Just the Messenger (13 page)

* * * *

The first thing Grace noticed when she came fully to her senses was the comforting heat at the back of her head. She heard the sound of a jet engine, felt the uneven movement of air travel and looked around only to realize she was lying straight across several seats lining the side of the plane, her head on Gene’s lap. She looked up into his stormy eyes, and the sadness there turned to joy, their edges crinkling as he smiled down at her.

“Marco,” he said, not looking away from her. “I think she’s actually awake this time.”

Instantly, Marco’s face hovered over her, and she studied it openly, the cleft in his quivering chin, the stubble lining his jaw, the sheen of perspiration covering his cheekbones, the turn of his sultry nose.

“Hi guys.” Her voice sounded weak, far away.

“Shh.” Marco held a finger to his lips.

“He’s right,” Gene said. “Don’t use your energy. We got out by helicopter then changed to the jet I’d chartered to bring me to Esposola. We’re almost back to New York now. You’ve been out for quite a while. We’ve got to get you checked out as soon as we land.”

“You’ve been coming in and out of sleep and consciousness for hours,” Marco added. “I…we were so worried.”

He and Gene shared a glance.

“Hey! Our girl’s awake!” Warren appeared in the doorway of the cockpit, where he’d been grilling the pilots for anything they knew about the Colombian drug trade. “Welcome back, Gracie!”

She tried to smile, but her face felt numb. Gene stroked her hair gently, and she let the movement lull her.

“That’s right,” Marco said. “Just relax. We’ll take good care of you.”

Grace pondered the words, shutting her eyes. Would they take care of her? Could they? An IIB agent bent on righting wrongs and doing whatever it took to save the entire world, and a hardened, cynical businessman who would do either what was right or what was wrong for a price? Did they have the capacity to love? Was that even what she wanted from them?

The answer hit her through the maze of questions like an anvil to the chest. Yes. They would take care of her. She knew it like she knew her name. Gene, for all his tough-guy act and money, had a heart, and a strong one at that. She’d seen it in him that night at her apartment, before things got heated. He did care for her, and for Marco, too, even against his better judgment. And Marco. Grace had a feeling Marco would bring her the moon on a platter if she asked him to, though she didn’t know why. She couldn’t figure out what she had done to deserve the love of such an honest, good man. Would she have to choose?

No matter her choice, someone would get hurt. No matter her choice, she would be unhappy, too. The what-ifs and what-could-have-beens would plague her daily life. She knew herself, and if she chose one man over the other, the ostensible loser would be the one to capture her daily thoughts and enliven her nightly imaginings. It was all a recipe for failure.

Maybe it was time to retire from her short career as a spy. She could move to a small town in the middle of the country and start over. Gene and Marco would haunt her dreams, but at least she’d have these memories, unaltered and not ruined, to hold on to. What they’d shared thus far would sit on a pedestal in her mind for eternity. She wouldn’t risk losing it. She would leave before she ever had to choose.

As Grace’s mind hardened around her decision, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep, not waking again until the jet touched the ground in the city.

Chapter Ten

Gene was just about to leave his gutted office when his secret cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number and didn’t answer, choosing instead to give one last, wistful glance at the room that had earned him so much clout and money in the private spy business. He’d start up somewhere else. Chicago, maybe. He studied the ticket in his hand. He didn’t have to be at the airport for another three hours.

He considered paying a visit to Grace, but he decided against it as he pushed the elevator buttons for the final time. The girl had been through enough in the past few weeks. After she’d recovered from her injuries, which included a severe concussion, Gene had had to tell her to find a new job. He didn’t fire her, but he wasn’t taking her with him, and his business was shutting down. He couldn’t bear the thought of ever putting her in harm’s way again. The best thing for everyone would be for him to just disappear. At least he was good at that.

To visit her now would only open the wounds afresh. He’d have to deny her again. He’d have to keep his secrets. She’d feel abandoned, and he’d feel guilty. Still, Gene desperately wanted to see her face one last time. He clamped down on the feeling. There was no room for sentimentality in his line of work.

Plus, Marco was keeping her occupied. When Gene had stepped out of the picture after their return to the city, he’d kept tabs on his crew. He knew Grace and Marco had been together more nights than not.

His secret number rang again. This time, he picked it up. Anything to get his thoughts away from the people he would soon leave behind.

“I need to talk to you about Grace.” Marco gave no hello.

“How did you get this number?”

Laughter rang on the other end of the line. “I’m IIB, Gene. We’re not all idiots, you know.”

“No, only most of you. What do you have to say?”

“I’m at your apartment, but it’s empty. I want to talk in person.”

“Yeah, I’m moving.”

“Well, I’ll be sitting here on the floor in your living room. At least you had the place cleaned.”

Gene checked his watch. “Fine, I have a few minutes. Make it quick, though.”

“Have I ever disappointed?”

Gene felt heat crawl up his neck at the memory of the last time he and Marco had ‘talked’. It had been fast then, too. Fast and dirty and raw. Just what he had needed at the time. Very much what he needed now. His pulse quickened as he pulled the rental town car out of the office lot and headed back to the home he’d thought he’d abandoned for good just a few hours ago.

* * * *

Marco paced the small living area, looking out the large, bay windows at each pass, hoping to see Gene’s car. He didn’t realize the black sedan he’d seen pulling in was Gene until he saw him exiting it, though he should have known that Gene would not be driving his personal vehicle since he wouldn’t want to leave it at the airport.

When the man walked in, Marco’s heart pounded. Power and confidence oozed from the tall, blond business guru, a result of having been in charge of so much for so long. A necessary reward for always getting the job done. Marco admired his ruthlessness, though he didn’t have the same traits within himself. He preferred to take the orders rather than give them. He felt being on the ground gave him the opportunity to do more good than being in an office barking orders.

“Is Grace okay?” Gene asked, dropping his small briefcase before shutting the door and striding across the room.

“She’s fine, just about moved out,” Marco hedged. “She misses you, though. And she’s confused.”

Gene cocked his eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

Marco smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that there’s trouble. It’s that our paradise is missing a key player.” He shot a meaningful look at Gene. “There is no paradise without Gene Hardy.”

“You’ve got that wrong. There’s no hell without me.” Gene walked to Marco and put his arms on the man’s shoulders. “You guys will be way better off without me. I’m on a plane in a few hours, anyway. It will be as if I never existed.”

“Not to us,” Marco argued. “I wasn’t lying when I said she was in love with you.”

“What about you? You’re chopped liver?”

“That’s the thing…I think she’s in love with both of us. And who am I to deny my lady the delicious Gene Hardy?”

“Well, it’s a good thing one of the three of us still has a head on his shoulders, then. You two belong together. I’m a loner. I don’t belong with anyone. Plus, even if you think you’d be okay with sharing her, eventually it would be too much for you.”

Marco bristled and shook Gene’s hands from him. “I’ll ask you not to tell me what I can and can’t handle, thanks.”

“No offense meant—”

But Marco cut him off. “And who’s to say it wouldn’t be Grace and I sharing
you.
”

Gene grinned. “I was hoping you might be convinced of some goodbye action before I have to take off.”

“Action, yes. Goodbye, no.”

“I’m not staying, Marco. I’d mess everything up. I already have—”

Marco cut him off again, but this time not with words.

He took Gene’s lips in a passionate kiss. The heat from the other man stoked the desire that had been building in Marco since he’d arrived alone an hour ago. After spending so much time with Grace, he’d realized it would never be complete without Gene. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to her about it, his male ego too strong to allow another man to take precedence, but he thought if he could get through to Gene, then they could go to her together. If Marco orchestrated the whole thing, he’d at least have a little control. Kissing Gene now, though, he knew he’d never have any control where either of them was concerned.

Gene’s hand came up to caress his cheek, and Marco shuddered into the touch, grateful to know the passion flared on both sides after all they’d been through.

He moved his mouth to the businessman’s neck, nipping and sucking, breathing in the rich cologne that was so distinctly Gene. Too much clothing. He slipped his fingers between Gene’s pants and hardened torso. He undid the belt buckle, unbuttoned the well-worn jeans and slipped the garment over Gene’s slim hips, down his toned thighs to the floor. Gene’s hardened length sprang free from his boxers, and Marco felt the man’s heated desire butt up against his leg. His own cock filled at the thought of Gene taking him, and what had been meant as a slow seduction turned into a frenzied fit of torn clothing and searing kisses.

Gene walked Marco over to the wall and threw him against it. He captured the agent’s hands above his head, bearing down on him with a fierceness Marco had never experienced.

“Floor,” Gene whispered.

They sank down to the carpet together, Gene’s naked body covering Marco’s. Their erections rubbed together, and Gene let go of Marco’s hands to grasp around the pair of dicks. Pleasure shot up Marco’s spine, and he cried out in need.

“Take me, Gene, please God.”

Gene only grunted in reply, inching his mouth away from Marco’s skin for just a moment.

“Lube?” He asked on a hiss.

Marco had come prepared and pointed at his jeans, crumpled on the floor. “Back pocket.”

In the seconds that Gene was gone, Marco studied his sleek form with appreciation. The broadened shoulders tapered to a thin waist. Compact muscles flexed and bunched as Gene bent to find the small bottle, which also gave Marco a prime view of the man’s ass. The pale skin glowed invitingly in the bright lights of the apartment, and as Gene squatted down, Marco got a glimpse of the rosy, hairless balls he remembered so well.

His mouth watered to take them in, and when Gene returned, object in hand, Marco ravaged him, pulling him down to his knees and taking him into his mouth. He teased the flared head of the silky smooth length, dipping his tongue down and retracting it with a feathery pressure. Gene groaned and thrust deep, taking Marco by surprise. The agent opened wide to accommodate the girth and relished the feel of Gene’s desire moving back and forth within him. He sucked hard as Gene pushed in, and he heard the other man gasp. He released with a pop, and Gene growled, pushing him down onto his back.

On his knuckles, Gene loomed over him, his full lips opened just slightly. It was enough of an invitation. Marco pulled him down, capturing his mouth in a plundering kiss. The spicy-sweet taste of Gene filled Marco’s senses as his tongue tangled with the other man’s. Gene’s hands ran through Marco’s black locks.

Without breaking contact, Gene reached to the floor where the lube and condom had fallen, almost forgotten. He finally broke the kiss, lifting Marco’s legs and setting them upon his shoulders then squirting the liquid onto his palm. Marco felt a coolness around his hole, and he tensed in anticipation of the welcome intrusion. Gene unwrapped the foil package slowly and sheathed himself before tracing a circle around Marco’s anus.

At the entrance of a finger, Marco gasped and writhed. It had been so long since he’d been with a man. Gently, Gene moved forward, stretching him, preparing him. Arrows of pleasure shot through Marco, replacing the initial discomfort. He began to push back on the pressure. Suddenly, the digit left him. He let out a muffled cry of annoyance, and Gene chuckled above him.

“Patience, my darling,” the businessman said. “It has been too long. I want to enjoy you.”

Marco felt the covered tip of Gene nudge his inner thigh as the man made his way to the opening. Waves of sensation washed over him as Gene pushed in slowly. When he was finally seated, the two men stilled, staring at each other, just enjoying the closeness. Then Gene’s nostrils flared and the implication was too much for Marco; he clenched and felt the man above him shudder.

A thick vein pulsed just under the skin of Gene’s neck, and Marco concentrated on it to slow the escalating pleasure tight in his balls. A sheen of sweat slicked their chests, and when Gene leaned down for a kiss, he caused Marco’s breath to catch in his throat.