It's Always Been You (15 page)

However, a few hours later, he heard the distinct rumbling of her stomach and decided it was time to feed her. He smiled to himself. He should write the manual on
The care and feeding of Caitlin Kincaid
.

“Caitlin? You want something to eat?”

No response.
 

Just the sound of her fingers flying on the keyboard and the voices from the TV.

“Caitlin.” Louder, and this time in a tone he used when he was talking to his crew.

“Huh? What?”

“Food.”

“Oh, yeah. Shit. Yes, I’m hungry.” She grinned sheepishly before returning her attention to the screen in front of her.

Travis sighed and lowered his own laptop on the coffee table. He scooted over on the sofa, touched her arm and said, “Save whatever you’re working on. You need a break.”

“But—”

“No buts. I want you to take a break.” He started prying the laptop from her.

“Wait . . . sheesh . . . okay . . . saving now,” she grumbled as she scrunched her nose at him in irritation.

Jesus Christ, is everything she does adorable?
Travis thought. A spasm in his chest strained against his sternum. He was more in love with her now than he was before.
 

There was no doubt; he was a goner.

He patiently waited for her to finish up because he knew if he left her alone, she’d never follow him into the kitchen.

“Chop, chop, babe,” Travis prodded again.

She finally lowered the lid on her computer, got up and stretched. She was wearing a strappy dress that left little to the imagination. Travis wondered if she was deliberately driving him insane, but maybe it was only in his screwed-up head. He’d seen those types of dresses women wore in the summer. As she raised her arms to flex, the hem lifted and exposed her thighs. Travis had always been a leg man. Even with Caitlin’s scars, all Travis could imagine was having those legs wrapped around him as he drove his cock inside her.
 

Shit, he was feeling light-headed as the blood shot to his groin, and the front of his pants started to get uncomfortable. He quickly walked ahead of Caitlin so she couldn’t see how little effort it took for her to affect him. Travis popped the lasagna into the oven to reheat.
 

“Wine?”
 

“Sure,” Caitlin replied, sitting on a bar stool in front of the center island. “I’m probably going to stop working on that cipher for the day.”

“Good idea,” Travis said. “I want you to relax, sunshine.”

“I just want the mob off our backs, you know?” Caitlin’s voice was rueful and if Travis could only wrap her up and tell her he’d take care of everything, he would. His wife always had an independent streak—that much of her personality had not changed. That didn’t mean he had not considered contingency plans. He wasn’t fibbing when he said he’d already made inquiries about a loan from the bank.

“I know, babe,” Travis whispered.

“Are you going into the office tomorrow?”

Travis frowned. “No. I’m working from home.”

“I can probably go in with you,” Caitlin offered. “They need you there, Travis. Emily traipsing all across Washington DC is just a waste of time.”

“We’ll see. Maybe Tuesday?”

Caitlin shrugged and took a sip of her wine.
 

“Here. Have some of this salami, it’ll go well with what you’re drinking,” Travis laid out a board with several selections of
charcuterie—
artisan cured meats. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat beside her.
 

“My parents are back in town,” Travis said. Caitlin froze beside him. “I’m not sure how long I can hide you from them.” For some reason, this made him smile. “They’re going on vacation again in a few weeks, somewhere in the Caribbean. You’ve always liked the beach. I think I can take a few weeks off from the office.”

“I liked the beach, huh?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yes. We made frequent trips to the Bahamas and St. Martin,” Travis said. “We had been saving up for a trip to Fiji . . .” Suddenly, his throat constricted. He took a gulp of his wine. “So, how about it?”

“Can’t say I don’t want to until—” Caitlin suddenly looked green. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got scars on the right side of my body, Travis.”

Fuck. Was he being insensitive? He knew enough about women that insecurities, especially when they were of a physical nature, simply couldn’t be brushed aside.
 

“Caitlin,” he spoke in a reassuring gentle manner. “I don’t care about the scars, babe. But we won’t go if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

“The beach sounds awfully fun,” she sighed. “I don’t remember . . .”

Her voice trailed off and then she muttered, “Damn.” Caitlin jumped off the bar stool and walked briskly toward the stairs. “Wait here,” she threw over her shoulder and disappeared up to the second floor.

Travis resisted the urge to follow her upstairs and forced himself to check on the lasagna instead. It could use a few more minutes. He glanced impatiently at the stairs. Fortunately, it didn’t take Caitlin long and she bounded down the steps with a rectangular black box.
 

“Cayman Islands,” Caitlin said. “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the accounts.” She opened the anti-static box and in its depths were an assortment of flash drives. Caitlin rifled through the storage sticks, until she selected one and held it up.

“Are you telling me that a hundred million dollars is stored in that little thing?” Travis eyed the piece she held up before glancing at the rest of the box. “What’s in there, another billion?”

Caitlin gave a throaty laugh that he felt all the way to his dick.
 

“Probably,” she said carelessly. “But what’s in here is useless without what’s in here.” She pointed to her head.

“It’s such a pretty head too,” Travis murmured. “I can tell you’re eager to hack into it, so why don’t you head back to the TV room, and I’ll bring the lasagna when it’s ready.” Caitlin grinned and gave him a resounding smack on his lips.
Damn. If she keeps up her playfulness, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.
She practically skipped into the next room.

It just occurred to Travis how blasé he was regarding the money. Sure he was thrilled that Caitlin could well be on her way to returning the hundred mil to the Russian mob, and they could finally start a normal life together. But at that moment, when she held up the flash drive, all he noticed was how lively her hazel eyes had become. The sparkle in them made his breath hitch. Travis realized without a doubt that his happiness hinged on hers.

*****

Two hours later, the dirty plates sat on the coffee table, the TV was stuck on a B-movie, and Caitlin was sitting on the couch, leaning against Travis. He had his arm stretched across the back of the sofa, so as not to crowd her, but every now and then he would play with the strands of her hair and lean in to press a kiss on the side of her head.
 

His gaze drifted to the weird code on her screen that seemed to be an altogether different language. Travis had no problem learning new computer applications and using them, but what Caitlin was messing with was on an altogether different level. This was no user-friendly interface; this was what ran behind it.
 

“Gotcha,” Caitlin whispered. She squirmed on the couch as if to get a better perspective.
 

“You hacked in?”

A file opened with a URL and a set of numbers. Another window opened with a list of words—passwords.

Caitlin highlighted the URL and pasted it on a web browser. The homepage of a bank in the Cayman Islands came up.

This time, Travis’s heart leapt to his throat. “Goddamn, sunshine.”

Caitlin’s tongue was caught between her teeth, a ridiculously pleased smile graced her face as her fingers continued to pound the keyboard. Soon, the bank account details came up.

Travis gave a low whistle. “Twenty five million plus change. Damn, babe. You had that drive in that box in your room? You should have let me keep it in my safe.”

“I didn’t exactly trust you,” Caitlin said bluntly.

The old Travis would have been offended, stomped off to his study, and brooded. But something subliminal had changed between them over the past week. Ever since their dinner date, there was this connection that snapped in place despite their discord. Fragile like a silken thread, he wasn’t about to screw it up.

“Fair enough,” Travis said in a measured tone. “Do you trust me now?”

She glanced up at him. “I do.”

Those two simple words felt like the vows Sarah had said to him on the day of their wedding. And just like the best day of his life, Caitlin was saying those same words now, all but entrusting him with her life.

He shifted her slightly in his arms and looked into her eyes. “Shut it down, Caitlin.”

“What?”

“Shut it down,” he repeated.

“My laptop? But I’m on a roll.”

His hand dug into the back of her head, pulling her closer. He said against her lips, “Shut—it—down. Because in less than sixty seconds, you’ll be flat on your back, your legs spread, with my mouth fucking that pussy.”

Her eyes doubled in size. Travis grinned wolfishly. “Fifty-five seconds, babe.”

“I—I,” Caitlin stammered as she dragged her gaze away from his. She frantically logged out from the website and started closing the open windows.
 

He nuzzled her neck, pressing open-mouth kisses on that sensitive pulse that seemed to quiver faster at his touch.

“Travis . . .” She was breathless now. Good. Because he could fucking come in his pants given the anticipation. And if anything interfered with him finally sinking into that lush heat of hers, he could very well kill somebody, probably himself.
 

His mouth trailed up her ear. He tugged on the lobe lightly and whispered, “Forty seconds.”

He relieved her of the laptop and laid it on the side table. Without another word, and with his eyes heatedly trained on hers, he gently laid her on her back, wedging his hips securely between her thighs, effectively bunching her skirt around her hips.

For a second they just stared at each other; then he lowered his head and took her lips in a persuasive kiss. Her mouth opened beneath his probing tongue, and he took the opportunity to taste her, to stroke the inside of her mouth and swirl his tongue around hers. One hand stole behind her neck to pull the string that held up the fabric covering her breasts. He lowered his head and nosed the scrap of material further down, and when his mouth reached the peak of one breast, he stopped and paid homage. Unintelligible sounds started to escape his woman’s lips as her hands gripped his hair and her limbs tightened around him.

He sucked on a nipple; her torso arched in response.
 

“Travis . . .” She sighed his name. His fingers trailed down her thigh and she abraded her hips against the ridge of his pants, rubbing desperately against him.

“You don’t stop that, sunshine, you’re not getting my mouth,” Travis groaned against her breast. He pulled back and sat on his haunches, staring at the vision before him.

Her arms were cocked at the elbows, hands beside her face, tits exposed to his starved eyes. Her legs bared, Caitlin tried to close them, but Travis stopped her. “Don’t.” Travis held her knees apart; then his hands slid down her thighs, hooking the waistband of her panties and drawing them off her legs.
 

He was rigid with the force of his lust.

He spread her legs wider; then he leaned in and feasted. His tongue laved the addictive nectar glistening from her core. Spreading the pretty pink lips with his tongue and stroking up and lightly sucking on her clit, Caitlin’s moans spurred him to stroke harder. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders and her legs tried to squeeze his head, but he growled and pushed one leg over the couch as he burrowed further into her softness, ravishing the tender folds of her sex with his devouring mouth. Her clit grew turgid with her arousal, and he felt her orgasm hit her.

She screamed his name, imploring him to stop, but his yearning for her taste, the musky honey that was uniquely her fragrance, fueled him to continue plundering on her supple flesh.

“I can’t, Travis . . . stop . . . oh, God.” Her mewls of pleasure threatened to snap his own control.

Finally, he pulled back and unbuttoned his jeans, lowering his zipper, he freed his cock. Grabbing his wallet, he took out a condom, ripped the foil, and sheathed himself. Crawling up her body, he carefully positioned himself at her entrance.

“Look at me, sunshine,” he entreated. He slowly pushed in, resisting the urge to shove inside her to the root. Fuck, she was tight. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she gasped, but her nails digging into his shoulders gave him a different impression. He eased in another degree and felt her shrink away from him.

“Babe—you have to tell me—”

“You’re too big,” Caitlin blurted out, and Travis would have laughed if he wasn’t in some sort of agony himself.

Cursing, he withdrew and pushed in again. Two years without sex, three years without sinking into the woman he craved, he’d probably come in five seconds. “I’m out of practice,” he confessed as he felt heat rising up his neck.

Their eyes met again—Caitlin’s crinkled in humor. “After that orgasm you gave me, I doubt it.”

He groaned and pulled out; this time he pushed all the way in and heard her whimper in protest. Her inner muscles clenched around him like a vise. He struggled to maintain his composure when his instinct was to rut madly inside her. “I’ll let you get used to me.”

“Okay,” she whispered. She wiggled her hips. Travis dropped his head to her shoulders and groaned again. She was going to kill him.

“Travis?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Please move.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
 

He withdrew carefully and pushed back in, mindful to keep his weight off her. One part of him felt like an insensitive brute for wanting to have sex with her when she was covered in bruises, but nothing felt more right at this moment. The slide of his cock inside her was everything he’d dreamed about. He was home. Her silken warmth melted away three years of loneliness and empty living, releasing an invigorating breath of exhilaration with every measured thrust.