Authors: Samantha Hunter
“I may need to take a closer look.”
Her voice was thready, coming in pants as he pulled her shorts off in one hard tug.
“I…figured…as…much….”
As he settled between her legs and swiped his tongue over her delicate skin, pushed his fingers deeply inside of her, she couldn’t hold out. He’d won and she didn’t care.
Arching back, she bucked against him, letting the quick release pour through her like liquid fire, chanting his name.
Still shuddering, she sat up slightly, and he hooked one of her legs over the back of the sofa, spreading her widely as his mouth closed over her again, sucking and lapping at her until she dug her hands into his hair and pressed him more tightly against her. Crying out, she rocked into him as she came again, animal sounds bursting from her unbidden as she forgot everything but the suffusing pleasure that he gave her.
“Oh, God…Ian…” She lapsed back against the back
of the sofa again, spent, sweating and exhausted though he didn’t join her but simply continued to kiss and stroke until she felt like melted butter.
Tiny residual orgasms flew from the ends of his fingertips through her body until she couldn’t even think. Eventually he lifted up next to her and covered her mouth in a scorching kiss that tasted like her own sex. Then the kiss gentled and he eased back, looking at her.
Somewhere in the foggy recesses of her mind she realized he hadn’t sought any satisfaction for himself and she smiled in anticipation of correcting that oversight. Once she had her energy back, she would show him two could play this game. Right now she was utterly slack. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t even know what. Words were lost to her.
Ian sat on the floor, his hand absently stroking the damp hair that clung to her forehead, and she swallowed a sudden lump of emotion clogging her throat. She hadn’t experienced a lot of tenderness from men in her life, and this little bit from Ian slayed her. She couldn’t see his expression, but his touch was gentle. She let her eyelids drop but opened them again, for a second fighting the drowsiness that overcame her. Then she just gave in.
I
AN SAT IN THE CHAIR
across from where Sage still slept soundly, watching her. He’d made a big mistake, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Of the women he’d known, he’d never tasted passion as he had with Sage.
Even though he’d kept himself tightly controlled, her responses had nearly pushed him over the edge.
All he really regretted was that it could never happen again. He would never know what it would be like to lose himself in her body and he half wished he had taken her completely the night before. But it was too late for that now.
He watched her shift on the sofa. She looked so innocent, her face peaceful in sleep, her head a mass of tangled curls that were just as silky as he had imagined. She’d be awake soon—he could tell she was making the slow rise to consciousness.
Guilt pricked at him. His plan had worked. She’d fallen deeply asleep, freeing him to search her place thoroughly, and he’d found what he sought. The envelope lay in his lap. He’d read the letter from the man named Locke, the man he’d seen the day before. Obviously an old lover. Obviously trouble.
She looked too young, too chaste in sleep to be the cause of so much chaos in his life. But he knew she was far from innocent. He studied her, knowing she was still half naked under the sheet he’d tucked around her. The scents and flavors of her skin, of her sex, from the night before swamped him, and he clenched his fist on the edge of the chair. He’d do his job. He’d take her in. And then he’d move on.
Her lithe body bowed in a stretching yawn and then her eyes popped open. She was momentarily confused, and he watched as she remembered. Her eyes closed again, a smile forming. He felt a jab in his gut—was
she smiling at the memory of what he’d done to her or at how she thought she’d fooled him?
Her head twisted, and she saw him sitting there. At first there was warmth in her eyes, but the second her gaze landed on the envelope on the table next to him, she snapped from sleepiness to panicked wakefulness.
Bolting straight up on the sofa, her face burned when she realized she was still nude from the waist down, and she clutched the sheet around her. The sight of her bare skin made Ian’s pulse jump, but just for a moment. He schooled his voice to be cool and casual.
“Good morning. Sleep well?”
She lunged for the envelope. He snatched it first and faced her fury calmly.
“You bastard!” He raised an eyebrow as she stormed, several creative curses spewing from her well-kissed lips.
“Oh, tut, tut, sweetheart. Not much of a morning-after person, are you?”
“How
dare
you?”
He felt his hackles rise at her indignant tone, but remained cool.
“How dare I what?”
As she paced, tears filled her eyes.
“How dare you do…what you did! Just to trick me so you could search my place! You’re slime. You’re worse than slime.”
Ian just chuckled. “Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. Like you weren’t doing the same thing with the same intentions? It was pretty obvious you were willing to do just about
anything to keep me from searching that room. I wanted to see exactly how far you’d take it.”
“I’m going to report you.”
He just shook his head. “There’s nothing to report. I didn’t coerce you, I didn’t force you, I didn’t threaten you. What happened happened because you wanted it to.” He saw her face flame with humiliation and softened his tone slightly. “And because I wanted it to, as well.”
She shook her head, obviously distraught, and sank to the couch. He steeled himself against any emotional reaction and tried to remember who he was dealing with. For all the wounded innocence, she was playing him as much as he was playing her. And probably had been for a while.
“I want to know what’s going on. Then you’re getting dressed and we’re heading down to the station.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want to go to prison.”
“Not up to me. We’ll have to see what the judge says.”
“Ian, you have to believe me. You know I’ve done well. I don’t deserve this. He just left it for me, I didn’t know….” She stood up and closed the distance between them, her expression desperate. He felt a small sliver of doubt and ignored it.
“I saw the whole thing. I saw the drop. I saw you get the package. You’re obviously involved in something. Something you shouldn’t be. I’m just amazed you couldn’t wait a few more days, but I guess the thrill of
pulling it off right under my nose must have been too tempting, huh?”
She stared at him in shock. “You were there the whole time?”
He nodded. “It was a coincidence but a lucky one.” He smiled harshly. “Though not for you and your friend, I guess.”
The next thing he felt was her hand slamming into his face and he shook his head in amazement—it didn’t quite knock him back but almost. Damn if she didn’t have a good right hook, and now she was planning to use it again. He stopped her fist midswing this time and threw her arm back at her side.
“Should I add assaulting an officer?” He didn’t even think she heard him, she was that furious.
“You rotten son of a bitch! You had it all planned! You planned to come here, to use me and then to arrest me! You’re disgusting! No matter what I’ve ever done, it’s nothing compared to what you did last night!”
She was crying, nearly hysterical with anger, and he grabbed her, pinning his arms tightly around hers, holding her next to him to avoid being hit as much as anything else. He squeezed her more tightly as she struggled, and finally she calmed but wouldn’t meet his eyes. He spoke, his breath moving next to her ear, which unaccountably he had to steel himself against tasting.
“No. I didn’t plan it. I never planned on touching you, ever, though God knows you’ve tempted me long enough. Last night just…happened. Though I’ll admit I used the opportunity to search your house and I’m
glad I did. But I didn’t come here with the intention of seducing you.”
She looked at him then, still indignant, and he felt anger push the words out of him. “Though from the looks of that letter, sweetheart, you’re hardly one to be calling me out on the moral carpet. You’re involved with this guy, but it didn’t stop you from letting me have you last night, did it? Though maybe Locke doesn’t care as long as you’re doing your part for
the cause,
huh?”
He expected her to explode, but instead she went slack. Her head dropped forward, and he rolled his eyes, shaking her lightly.
“Cut the melodrama, darlin’.”
She looked up, white as a sheet, her eyes almost black, and he experienced genuine concern. He’d gone too far.
“Okay, listen, I’m sorry for that last crack. I shouldn’t have made this personal.”
Nothing. No response.
“Can you stand if I let you go?”
She nodded vaguely, and he had no sooner loosened his arms around her than she pulled back and punched him in the gut. When he doubled over, she lunged for the package again, but he blocked her and grabbed her wrist in the process. She fought tooth and nail.
“Stop it now or I’ll cuff you. I mean it. I’ll take you down physically if you make me.”
She froze at that and turned on him, her eyes blazing.
“No one—
no one
—treats me like that.”
Ian felt a little stirring of admiration and quelled it. “Fair enough. So you’ll tell me about this?” He tapped the envelope.
“Yes. But I don’t know much.”
He arched his eyebrow doubtfully and stepped back more carefully this time, making sure she wasn’t coming in for another surprise attack.
“I don’t want to cuff you, but you’re under arrest, and we have to go down to the station.”
She nodded.
“You have to get dressed.”
“May I shower?” Her voice was distant, mechanical.
“I don’t think so. Just get your clothes on and let’s go.”
She walked over to where her shorts lay on the rug and stood for a moment, bending to get them.
“Turn around.”
“Sorry. No can do.”
She laughed then and it pierced him. It was a sad sound.
“Guess you won’t see anything you haven’t seen up close and personal, hmm?”
Quietly he watched her dress and kept his eyes raised as much as he could. When she was more or less put together, he grabbed the envelope and followed her to the door.
Some days his job sucked.
S
AGE SWALLOWED AS
I
AN
pulled into the parking space in front of the station. She only had one play left and she was willing to do just about anything not to be taken into that building.
She rubbed her icy hands on her shorts, trying to warm them. It was hard to act sexy and calm when you felt like vomiting. She was desperate and didn’t like the idea of what she was about to do, but the idea of going inside that building was making her physically sick. Anything would be better.
Ian opened the door and waited for her to get out. When she did, she did so slowly, swinging her legs out first, then raising herself up to stand just a bit too close to him. She anchored her lower lip between her teeth and looked up at him.
“Ian, I want you to listen to me just for one minute.”
She stepped closer and planted the palm of her hand on his chest. His heart rate increased—she could feel it through the thin material of his shirt. She smiled up into his face, hoping her eyes were seductive instead of mirroring the desperation she was feeling inside. He
looked around uncomfortably and pushed her hand away, removing it but not releasing it from his tight grip. His strong hands were warm and felt too good, though his voice was cutting.
“Don’t even try, sweetheart. Don’t lower yourself.” But he wasn’t immune to her closeness or the contact—she could tell. She saw it in his eyes. There was still a chance.
She stepped closer, keeping her voice just above a whisper so that only he could hear. Meeting his gaze head-on, she displayed a confidence she was far from feeling.
“Aren’t you more worried about lowering yourself than you are about me? You still want me, don’t you? Last night…last night, you only had a taste. A taste of what could happen between us. I’m willing to do more. To do anything you want. Just don’t take me in there—please.”
He blinked, considering her—or her proposition—for a moment. “I don’t think so. Let’s go.” He started to step away, but she didn’t budge. It was time to get down to it.
“Okay, fine. Let’s put it this way. I don’t know what’s on that disk, but if anyone can find out, it’s me. He gave it to me. Believe me, Locke won’t make it easy. By the time you have one of your flunkies figure it out, it’ll be too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“To stop it.”
His clipped tone was impatient and he stepped
toward her, menacing but closer, and she felt a surge of hope.
“Stop
what?
”
“I don’t know exactly. My guess is some kind of virus.”
“Your specialty, huh,
LadyBug?
”
She let the comment bounce off. “Yes. And you won’t be able to figure it out without me. If you take me in there, you can forget it. I won’t help you. I know him. I’ll be able to find things you won’t even know to look for.”
He snorted. Looking away in disbelief, he started to pull her after him again, but she tugged him back, hard, pulling out of his grip, feeling panic crawl along her skin. But she didn’t show it—she had to make him listen.
“I’m serious, Ian. You won’t be able to figure it out in time. I can. Locke knows me. I—” She swallowed deeply, giving him some of the truth. “I can hand you Locke. I’ll do it—but not if you bring me in there.” Her eyes turned to the tall brick building and then returned to his.
“Whatever’s on that thing, it’s in your possession, and you know what they say about possession. You’ll probably go to prison this time around.”
“I don’t care.” She kept her gaze locked to his and played her final card. “I may go to jail, and your new position will go up in smoke when they know you had a chance to stop what was going to happen and you didn’t.” She gulped in a breath, not caring if he knew
how anxious she felt. “And they may not believe you seduced me and maybe they won’t even care, but it might put a nice dent in your spotless reputation if a rumor gets out. And I can make it sound far, far worse than it was.”
She saw something change in his eyes, if only for a second, and knew she had him—she’d found the key. His job, his reputation. The only things he cared about. She pressed the advantage while she had it. Her tone became pleading and eager.
“We can get him, Ian. Please. There are only three days left to my sentence. Do you really think I would get involved in something this stupid now? I’m not with him—”
“You’re his lover.”
She nodded slowly. “
Was.
Years ago. Not now. Not ever again would I be that stupid.” He was teetering on the edge, and she drove her point home. “Don’t take me in there, Ian, and I’ll stop this, whatever it is he’s doing. Give me a chance.”
He grunted in disgust and walked away, turning his back on her. Relief started to ease its way through her; he’d gone for it.
“How long have you been in contact with him?”
“I haven’t been, I swear. Yesterday was the first time I’d seen him in years.” Disbelief flooded his features and she stepped closer. “I’m telling the truth. I haven’t had any contact with Locke at all—I was shocked to see him yesterday and I know I shouldn’t have picked up that envelope….”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda, sweetheart. Why
did
you pick it up then? You know the rules.” His eyes searched hers, and she opened her gaze to his—she needed to show him she wasn’t hiding anything at this point, as much as he would believe that.
“I don’t know.” She stumbled a bit, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I was shocked to see him. I just acted on reflex. I didn’t know what he left there, but I didn’t want to take a chance.”
“A chance on what?”
“That whatever was in there could harm innocent people. And believe me, it probably can.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
She swept past his hurtful tone and pressed on.
“I know it was stupid, all right?”
“No. You had options. You could have come to me, told me, or brought the thing to me first instead of hiding it.”
She barked out a laugh, watching him blink in surprise. “What? And you would have believed me and not thought I was in cahoots with him anyhow? Like I could come to you on anything like that. There wasn’t anyone I could go to.”
“And I am supposed to believe you haven’t seen him, your old lover, at all, in years?”
Her face was close to his as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Couldn’t you tell last night, Ian? How hungry I was, how I reacted as soon as you touched me? Couldn’t you feel that I haven’t been with anyone? Not for a long while.”
He lowered his eyes from hers, his hands planted on his hips, and she wondered if she hadn’t pushed too far. But when he looked at her again there was a flicker of temptation in his gaze.
“If you’re yanking me here, sweetheart, I’ll take you down.”
“I know. I’m not. And the offer stands, Ian. I’ll help you get Locke and I’ll do…anything else you want.”
I
AN FIGURED HE WAS LOSING
his mind, letting her get to him, letting her swing the game. But what if she was telling the truth? What if she was right? Bringing down this guy would be a much higher priority than busting Sage on a sentence violation, even though the rules said differently.
He looked into Sage’s face, trying hard to be ruthlessly honest with himself—was he making a good judgment call, taking the lesser of two evils, or was he giving in to his baser instincts? She wasn’t just offering him Locke, she was offering him herself. That was a dynamite package. One that could easily blow up in his face.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d had doubts about bringing her in since they’d left the house. Even after finding the envelope he’d wanted to kiss her again as much as anything.
In for a penny, in for a pound,
a voice in his head mocked him. Was what he’d done last night any less damning because he hadn’t been inside her?
But he had already made up his mind, for better or
worse. He looked closely at her. “How do you know I won’t just turn you in anyway when this is all said and done? I could use you to find Locke, sleep with you and bring you back here. You could go to jail anyway.”
He reached out and touched her chin, though it wasn’t a tender gesture as much as a taunting one as he tipped her face up toward his. Her eyes remained steady on his.
“You’re not that kind of man.”
“You have no idea what kind of man I am. How much do you really know about me? Nothing. But I know everything about you, don’t I?” His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears.
She smiled a little at that, not willing to let him grab the reins. “I guess I’ll find out. I’m willing to take my chances. Anything is better than going in there.”
“Even giving me your body, knowing there’s nothing in the future for us? Not knowing if I’ll keep my end of the bargain?”
She nodded, pinning him with a frank and open stare. “I’ve already given you my body. What I wonder is if you’ll give me yours. I want you, Ian. It’s simple as that. And I don’t want to go to jail. Maybe I’m the one using you.”
He was testing her, putting their situation in the coarsest terms he could, but she’d answered him without so much as a flinch. She was either being very honest or she was just very, very good.
He didn’t touch her anymore, didn’t stand closer—they were in a public place where people would recog
nize him, so he couldn’t risk it—but he was burning with the desire to haul her next to him and show her what she was doing to his sense of control.
He’d like to think he could hold out, that he would never touch her again. That he would just work with her to find Locke, then let her go. But her scent was still on his hands from the night before, seducing him. He knew he would take what she wanted to give him. He’d have to deal with the consequences of that later on.
“Get in the car.”
With those four words he sealed both of their fates.
A
PPEARING TO BIRD-WATCH
, Locke sat on the park bench, staring up at the trees through tiny binoculars. He didn’t like what he was seeing.
LadyBug was standing outside of the police station with the fed, and he was holding the envelope in his hand. Had his baby girl ratted him out? Gone to the other side? Was she doing the cop? He spat in disgust as he focused the lenses on her face. He knew that look. He’d missed seeing it. Pure sex. If those two weren’t doing each other yet, they would be soon.
Anger faded as he contemplated the idea, and a smile curled his lips. Maybe that was how she was working him. The weakness she’d found to exploit. LadyBug was a hacker to her bones, not as technically skilled as he was, for sure, but she was inventive. She had good instincts and she could figure out how to get into any system—maybe she’d gotten into the cop’s via his dick.
In which case, he supposed he could forgive her, but he’d have to watch some more to know for sure. He’d hoped she would wait for him. He’d wanted to have the pleasure of sinking in between her sweet thighs for the first time in five years. But if she had to make that kind of sacrifice for the cause, he could understand.
On the other hand, if she’d really turned, well…then he’d have to come up with a more severe punishment.
S
AGE STARED OUT THE WINDOW
as they turned the corner into the historic neighborhoods of Ghent and pulled to the curb. This was a place she knew well from her childhood. Her parents had several friends who lived in the wealthy section of the city, and she’d often played in these immaculately groomed yards, though she hadn’t kept in contact with any of the friends she’d had here.
Ghent was the city’s first “planned community,” created at the turn of the twentieth century, far different from the cookie-cutter housing developments that littered costal areas nowadays. The place had real Southern charm. A variety of gorgeous Dutch Colonial- and Greek Revival-style homes nestled comfortably next to each other. The area was very peaceful and serene even though it butted against some very busy main streets.
When they’d hit high school, all of her friends had become involved in pep squads and cheerleading, yearbook club and sports, but she just hadn’t been interested in those things. They all seemed so…light.
So she’d spent more and more time hacking, more
time sitting alone at the computer, honing her skills. The separation between her and any of the people she knew, including her own family, had widened. They certainly hadn’t been able or willing to understand her lack of interest in cultivating a proper social life, particularly one befitting a teenage Southern belle.
Sage snorted to herself—she never had been and never would be a
belle.
Life might do its worst—send her to jail, deny her a decent job, whatever—as long as she was saved from being a
Southern belle.
“What are we doing now?”
“We’re going to see what’s on this disk.”
“Ian, I haven’t eaten, showered or even brushed my teeth. I feel gross.” Sage thought wistfully of the Starbucks down at the corner, exhausted and feeling the lack of caffeine in her system now that she had won the battle over being arrested.
“EJ will have something to eat. The rest can wait.”
He got out of the car and headed toward one of the oldest, grandest homes Sage had ever seen in the area. This one had been kept in pristine shape. The austere look of the porch columns was softened by pink magnolia trees that blossomed in the yard. Dense ivy crept along the lower parts of the columns. Blooming flowers sat in pots in the corners of the porch, surrounding them in fragrance.
“Who’s EJ?”
Her question was answered seconds after Ian rang the bell. The man who answered the door smiled widely at Ian, obviously happy to see him, and then politely ac
knowledged Sage’s presence with a nod and a soft-spoken hello. As the two men exchanged words, Sage noted that EJ was a local—his accent was typical to the area, not the old-timer’s thick accent that sounded like a foreign language, but the upper-class cadence that spun even casual speech into silk.
Even though Sage had the female version of the same accent, she could still appreciate how it made men’s voices incredibly sexy and refined. It was a sign of someone born and bred—very well bred. EJ Beaumont—she caught his last name from the mailbox—was a real Southern gentleman.