Midnight Fire (17 page)

He could do it. He’d done it before.

With a wordless sound, Summer wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and melted into the kiss which was spreading heat throughout her body.

She could feel Jack’s muscles against the inside of her arms, against her breasts. He’d always been muscular but these muscles were a man’s not a boy’s. Hard, dense, fascinating. All that strength, all that heat—she needed it all next to her skin. She took her arms from around his neck—it felt almost painful not touching him—and with a shrug her blouse was on the floor. Then she scrabbled for the hooks at the back of her bra.

Oh
why
weren’t her breasts smaller so she could go without a bra? And why hadn’t she splurged on that La Perla bra that closed in front, that was all silk and frothy lace? Why had she opted for the plain cotton sports bra that closed in back?

She made a sound of disgust in her throat as the hooks stupidly refused to disentangle. Argh!

Jack lifted his head and looked down at her. He stilled her hands with his own, flattening them against her back. “Shh,” he murmured. “There’s no need to hurry.”

“Yes,” she said. “There is.”

Jack made a sound that was like a laugh and it unnerved her. Angered her. Fine for him to say, to establish the pace. She was cold and hurting
now
. Needing heat
now
. Wanting sex
now
. As a matter of fact, if she could push a button and both of them could beam to the bed naked, him on top, inside her—well, she’d push that button in a heartbeat.

A slow undressing, gentle touches, foreplay. Summer didn’t want any of that. She felt too shaky, out on a limb with nothing beneath her. Maybe if he took his time they’d have to...talk. She didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want anything but straight up sex. Right now.

Jack pulled her arms down to her sides and dipped his head to her neck. His lips and tongue moved up and down some kind of nerve there that only he had ever discovered. Goosebumps broke out all over her skin.

But his arms were not only holding her, they were holding her hands down. She couldn’t move them. Summer tried, gently, to lift her arms to her back to attack the hateful hooks but she couldn’t. Jack simply pressed a little harder against her arms. He wasn’t using force. He didn’t have to. He was so strong the weight of his arms kept hers down.

“Let go.” Summer had never liked being held down. Jack knew that, damn him. “Let go of my arms.”

“Shh,” he said again. “I want to undo your bra. Will you let me?”

Summer shifted her weight from foot to foot. She felt...something. God only knew what. Like her body was swelling and her skin couldn’t contain it. Itchy and scratchy and restless. She twitched herself away from Jack’s mouth. He was kissing his way up and down her neck, and every single inch of the skin under his mouth burned.

But she didn’t want seduction. She didn’t want slow sighs and soft touches. She didn’t want to think, she wanted only to feel and she wanted to feel him on her, in her,
right now
.

“Can I?” His teeth took just the slightest nip of her skin. Not pain, just a tiny little shock. “Can I take off your bra?”

“Only if you do it fast.” Summer clenched her teeth. “And then you get naked fast.”

“Tsk, tsk.” Jack’s voice was deep and lazy. The beast. “Such haste. Now why is that, I wonder?”

It was a miracle Summer didn’t crack a tooth, she clenched her jaws so tightly. “I thought we agreed on sex. I didn’t agree to spend hours standing in your bedroom.”

“This
is
sex.” Jack nipped her skin again and she shuddered, all through her body. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Surely, even in the penumbra, he could see them. “It’s all part of one continuum.”

“It is
not
part of a continuum.” Summer was so frustrated she wanted to scream. His hand was hovering over her back, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to undo her bra. Jack Delvaux, who’d made bra unfastening an Olympic sport. “You know precisely what sex is and I want...”

Her voice died away as her bra fell and her naked breasts came against his chest. He had on a tee but the muscles underneath were ridged and she felt every one as he rubbed himself against her. She rubbed back, hungry for the contact, hungry for his warmth.

This wasn’t the sex she wanted, but he was right—it was a form of sex. Particularly when Jack pulled off his tee and pulled her to him so tightly she could feel him breathing against her breasts. Skin to skin. What an amazing sensation. Heat skittered across the entire front of her body. His chest hair had thickened. He’d had a neat little vee of chest hair at twenty and now it covered his chest in a springy mat, from nipple to nipple right down to underneath his loose jeans waistband.

Below that was the biggest erection she’d ever felt, right there against her belly. Her nipples hardened with the abrasion against his chest hair. Her sex felt like a furnace. He thrust his hips against her, hard, and her womb clenched.

The prelude to an orgasm. Just from holding him bare-chested. They still had their pants on and she was about to come.

It was crazy, it was wonderful.

Every single problem seemed so far away, outside the miraculous things that were happening under her skin. The world was a few dark clouds on the horizon of an amazingly blue and bright sky. Hardly worth noticing while her body was singing with joy.

Why oh why didn’t she have sex more often? What was wrong with her? Why had she forgotten how incredible it felt to have every single nerve ending on fire? Why did she deprive herself of this?

Jack was still working on her neck, every touch of teeth and tongue shooting sparks through her. Her neck muscles felt lax, unable to hold her head up. Her knees were about to go. She opened her mouth to say that they should get to the bed because she couldn’t stand any longer, when Jack unzipped her pants, swiped his big hands over her hips and carried pants and panties down with them.

Awkward moment. Yeah, this was one of those awkward moments and maybe one of the reasons she didn’t have much sex. All these fiddly things—getting undressed in an attractive way, not fumbling with your clothes, getting shoes or boots off while standing—that was why not many dates ended up in bed.

Awkward, embarrassing moments.

But it turned out not to be awkward or embarrassing at all. Somehow Jack had some magic wand, probably connected to his magic penis, that did everything for him. His mouth left her neck for about two seconds as he kneeled and then voilà! Like magic. There she was, naked, in his arms. He was somehow naked, too. Nothing awkward or embarrassing about it.

Everything about him was so exciting. Impossibly broad shoulders, smooth skin over hard muscle...

Not so smooth skin.

Her fingertips wandered over his back and oh, God. He was covered in scars. Raised keloid tissue over his rib cage, two round puckered scars that could only be—

She pulled away, looked up into his face.

His expression was harsh, closed. “They bother you?”

“The scars? No. Well, actually yes. There must have been a lot of pain attached to these.” There was distance now between them and even in the semi darkness, Summer could see more scars on his chest. Two that must be the entry wounds to the puckered round scars she felt along his back. And another long, raised scar with staple stitches along it. She hadn’t seen scars like that since her childhood in third world countries. Nowadays no scars left stitch marks like that.

It must have been a field dressing.

For a second she mourned the old Jack, who’d been scarless, inside and out. Such a happy golden boy, to whom nothing bad had ever happened, and nothing ever would. The Jack that had been blessed by fate.

This Jack was scarred, darker, tougher. He’d been to war.

Jack shrugged one massive shoulder. He gave a small smile. “If the scars don’t bother you, then can we get back to what we were doing before?”

Oh God. Just like that, her body simply lit up. Her spirit had darkened feeling Jack’s scars, knowing how much pain each one represented. But he was revved and whoa, so was she. Sorrow and darkness and the past simply vanished, like the mist at morning. What was left was fierce heat and electric currents running over her skin. What was left was hard, aching breasts and wet heat between her thighs.

“That’s my girl,” Jack murmured and bent to her neck again, licking behind her ear. Even Summer could hear her breath coming more harshly.

“I didn’t say a word,” she protested, but her voice came out weak and thready.

“You don’t need to say anything, darlin’. Your body talks for you. It’s tellin’ me what ah need to know.”

She sighed heavily. In bed, Jack slipped naturally into a soft southern accent and it had excited her enormously. She assumed that it came from his mother, Mary, who’d been from South Carolina and had spoken with a honeyed southern accent. Jack obviously equated affection with that accent and it simply spilled out of him. It had turned her on like a light bulb.

Still did, apparently, because her sex clenched again. Just from his tone.

“What’s my body telling you?” Summer tilted her head so he could kiss that special spot where her neck met her shoulder.
Yes
, she thought.
That one.

“It’s telling me exactly where you like to be kissed.” Jack’s mouth moved up to just under her jawline and nipped again. She jumped as an electric current shot through her body.

“It’s telling me exactly where you like to be touched.” Jack’s mouth settled over hers, tongue licking her lips until she opened for him. One big hand smoothed its way over her back, down over her buttocks, down, down...

With his hand he silently told her to widen her stance and she opened her legs and oh my God! His fingers found her slick heat and she shuddered. He touched her just so. A Goldilocks touch. Not too hard and not too soft and oh! A probing finger rubbed over her clitoris then dipped inside her heat and she clenched. She clenched with her entire lower body, it was so intense.

She opened her mouth under his and gasped.

“That’s my girl,” Jack murmured.

“Jack,” she whispered.

“Darlin’,” he whispered back.

Something came from her throat and though it was impossible, it actually sounded like a growl. Jack chuckled.

He was
chuckling
! It meant he was in control while she was losing hers. That was wrong. They had to be on equal footing here.

She brought his head down to hers for a fierce, aggressive kiss, tongue licking into his mouth, teeth nipping at his lower lip. She rolled her hips against him and felt his penis swell.

Jack made a noise in the back of his throat, stepped to the bed. Three steps. Her legs followed his, as if they were dancing. The backs of her knees hit the bed, then her back and Jack covered her. He was amazingly heavy but it didn’t bother her, all that heat and power felt so delicious. His mouth hadn’t left hers, her arms hadn’t left his shoulders.

“Open your legs,” he whispered hoarsely.

Oh yeah. Her legs slid apart quickly, because she needed him like she needed air. A big hand reached down to her sex and, like before, circled her, rubbing her at the top of her sex, exactly at the pleasure point.

She’d had clumsy lovers who pressed too hard there, until it became almost painful. They didn’t understand women’s bodies, that a touch had to be just right. The perfect amount of pressure, but never too much.

Jack understood a woman’s body. Though his hand was huge, strong and had become rough with calluses, his touch was as delicate as could be. He circled her slowly and her thighs began to tremble, the prelude to orgasm. Just from his touch.

She could feel him, hot, heavy, swollen, against her thigh. When she contracted around his finger, his penis moved against her thigh, swelling even further.

The last time she’d been this excited had been with Jack. That Jack had filled her with joy. This Jack filled her with heat, heat that prickled up and down her spine, pooled between her legs.

She pressed upward with her hips and Jack understood. He could read a woman’s body like other men read books. He lifted his head and looked down at her. They were so close she could feel his breath wash over her face.

Jack had always looked so happy when making love, big grin on that beautiful face. Right now he wasn’t grinning, he looked serious, eyes narrowed as they watched hers. He shifted his hips until they were in alignment with hers and held her open for him with two fingers. She felt the big head of his penis against her and he was as hot as molten steel. Maybe they would blow up where they were touching, it felt that explosive.

Summer placed her open hand on his hard buttock and pressed. She didn’t have the words to say it. There was no breath in her lungs, her throat was too tight for words. But the pressure of her hand was enough. She could feel his buttocks tighten as he filled her slowly, watching her face so carefully.

His look was intense as his body filled hers. She closed her eyes because the ferocity of his gaze was simply too much, and because she had to concentrate on him inside her, at last.

So hot, so hard, so...right. It was like a homecoming, something she’d wanted, missed for so long. Her legs rose, wrapped around him as tightly as her arms around his shoulders as she savored a connection that was a missing piece of her. As if she’d been half dead and was coming back to life.

Jack withdrew slowly, pushed back in, and it was sheer bliss, her body had missed this, she’d missed
him
so very much. To her horror, tears sprang to her eyes but her body saved her in the nick of time. She tipped over into orgasm and tears were perfectly normal while climaxing.

And she could pretend it was just sex instead of her heart opening to Jack Delvaux once more.

Chapter Eight

Jack moved his hand under the covers, expecting to feel warm woman and felt cool sheet instead. Moment of cognitive dissonance here because he knew for a fact that he should be finding a warm woman.

An amazing warm woman.

A woman he’d spent the night loving.

Last night he had come alive in her arms. The memory of his lost family, the last painfully lonely six months with everyone thinking he was dead—that had faded into the background instead of being the fabric of his days.

There wasn’t even a lingering warmth, so Summer had gotten out of bed some time ago. There was a slight noise from the kitchen. Aha.

Smart CIA agent, highly trained, lots of field experience. He could guess where she was.

Jack rolled out of bed and was so eager to see her, hold her, he was halfway across the bedroom before he realized he was naked and his eagerness to see her was stiffly waving from his groin.

Better cover up. He didn’t want to. He wanted to walk in, grab her—if he could grab a cup of coffee too that wouldn’t be too shabby—and carry her right back to bed. He could get her aroused fast because he’d made a study of Summer last night. Pilots had check lists and now he had a Summer check list before take off.

Neck. Mouth. Neck again. Breasts. Both of them. Not at the same time. Hands caressing her between her legs.

That did it. If only they could go back to bed, spend the day in bed together. God.

It had been so fucking
long
since Jack had had a woman in his bed. And even longer where the woman was so sweet and soft and giving. So long ago he couldn’t even remember. Maybe never.

Maybe he’d never had a woman like Summer in his bed before.

That exquisite sense of closeness when he’d been so freaking lonely. Lost and alone with his grief over the loss of his family. Night after night alone in this barren place, knowing he was alive only by the dull beat of his heart. Mourning his losses, trying to find the strength to go out the next day in search of clues, risking discovery, and finding very little. Doing that over and over again.

He’d had to let his little sister, Isabel, think he was dead. That was the hardest thing of all, but it had had to be done. Isabel wore her heart on her sleeve. She would have been totally incapable of pretending her brother was dead if she knew he was alive.

Such a horrible, heartbreaking six months.

Last night he had come alive. He wanted more of what he’d just tasted last night. More of it right now, more of it in the future. A lot more of it in the future. Oh yeah.

They were a little stretched for time, he thought, as he pulled a pair of pajama bottoms from the single chair in the room. He sniffed the crotch because, well, he did his laundry, but he’d been a bit lax lately. But yeah, it passed the sniff test.

At some point, the ASI jet would arrive and they’d have to be there on the tarmac, unrecognizable, operational. There wasn’t that much time. But if they could grab a little quickie...hmm.

Ordinarily Jack didn’t like quickies. He liked to take his time, enjoy the journey. They would have plenty of time in the future, because Summer was definitely going to stick around—or rather he was going to stick around her—so there’d be lots of opportunities to fool around.

But he’d tasted her and he wanted more, right now, a little joy after a long, sad barren stretch, so if he could get her to agree to a fast little roll in the hay...

“Hey.” Jack stopped on the bedroom threshold and watched as Summer rinsed a cup in the sink. The smell of his crappy coffee filled the air. Another steaming cup stood on the counter. She was fully dressed. “Thanks for making coffee.”
Let me drink my cup and let’s go back to bed and do some more of those amazing things.
It was on the tip of his tongue and he was just about to say it when Summer turned slowly around and
uh-oh
.

His dick deflated almost instantly.

That was not a look conducive to sex he was seeing on her beautiful face. She was cool, completely unreadable, pale-gray eyes as expressionless as marbles.

Jack hadn’t really thought much beyond wanting her back in his bed. “Hi, uh.” His mind whirred uselessly. “Sorry there isn’t much for breakfast.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“There isn’t anything for breakfast,” Summer answered coolly. “Except this terrible coffee. I made you a cup, though.” She gestured to the counter. Jack knew for a fact that it was gray and unappetizing.

She was standing straight, very stiff, nearly every line in her body a big back-off sign.

There were all sorts of things Jack could do or say. He could offer to suit up in his homeless kit and go get some bagels at the corner deli, which wasn’t really around the corner but four blocks away. He could run it fast, get back here in ten minutes.

He could talk logistics, using his low and gentle voice. Outline their day, the trip to Portland, touching her, smiling, getting her used to his touch again.

He didn’t do any of that. Seeing her so stiff and cold terrified him. His feet carried him across the room before he could stop them and he gathered her in his arms and held on tightly, as if they were in a storm.

He couldn’t stand that look on her face, simply couldn’t go there. He wanted his Summer back, the Summer who’d smiled up at him as he was inside her, the one who kissed him so fiercely, the one who held him so tightly, the one who didn’t make him feel so alone in the world.

She stood stiffly in his embrace but he wasn’t backing away. No. He was going to hold her forever, if he had to. Certainly until he could feel the coldness melt, the stiffness soften.

Jack buried his face in her neck. He needed her to embrace him, smile at him. Together with Isabel, Summer was the only person on earth he cared about. He couldn’t lose her.

He kissed her neck. “Don’t pull away from me,” he said, his voice muffled against her skin. “I couldn’t bear it.”

Summer’s arms came up slowly, clutched his back.
Yes
,
darlin’
,
cling to me because I sure as hell am clinging to you.

They stood there, swaying in the dim morning light. “Last night was amazing,” he said. Just in case she hadn’t gotten the memo. He waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. It hurt his pride, but he finally said the words. “Was it amazing for you?”

He felt more than saw her smile. “Really, Jack? You’re really asking me this?”

Jack nodded against her neck. Kissed it. He was going to ruthlessly use every trick in the book. “I have to know.”

Summer sighed. She sounded exasperated, but her body language had changed. Jack spoke woman very well. He understood the body language of women. Back in the day he’d been a master. He was no longer fluent but he was still okay. Summer’s back was no longer stiff and her tense muscles had relaxed.

“It was fine.” He could practically hear her eyes roll in her head.

“More than fine,” he said, nudging her with his shoulder.

Another big sigh. “Fine. More than fine. Are you happy now?”

“Sort of.” Jack straightened, looked down at her lovely face. Some color was back in her cheeks and though she looked annoyed, annoyed was much better than that blank, cold façade. “I’d give anything to get back in that bed again but I think we’re going to have to get going.”

She gave a faint smile. “You always were insatiable.”

He clenched his jaws. “Is that what you think this is about?” He waved a finger between them. “Me getting as much fucking as possible?” He was deliberately crude to hide the fact that he was genuinely hurt.

Horribly, she looked blank. Now,
that
hurt. “Well, yeah. I mean you’d use any possibility to go to bed. And my roommate said—”

She broke off, looked to the side.

Oh God. Jack barely remembered her roommate. Some chick with long brown hair. He couldn’t even remember her name. He did remember Summer’s blank look when he showed up at the dorm room to take the roommate out and not her.

Jack looked her straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you. More sorry than I can say. All I can tell you is that the Jack who was such a dick is gone. Dead and buried. I don’t know what he was thinking. Not much, apparently. He sure wasn’t thinking with his big head. But this Jack—” He thumped himself in the chest hard enough to hurt. He welcomed the little bite of pain. “This Jack thinks with his big head and with his heart. This Jack hasn’t had sex in more time than I care to think about. These past six months were sexless for security reasons. But I hadn’t had sex in a long time before that because there wasn’t anyone I cared about. I had sex last night because I cared about you. Care about you. What I feel is real and what we had last night was real and I’m not letting it go. Not letting you go.”

She stared at him while he babbled, utterly astonished. Jack shook her a little by the shoulders.

“Are we clear on this?”

Summer nodded shakily.

This broke every single one of the relationship rules. Jack was showing his hand early, laying down his cards, each and every one. You don’t do that. You showed your cards one by one, and only after your partner showed hers.

He didn’t give a fuck for the rules.

Jack had spent the past fifteen years masking who he was. Showing a bland fake façade to the world, never ever revealing his true self. He’d been trained, and trained hard, to do it. It was the essence of his job, and he’d been really good at it.

At times, over the course of his career in the NCS, he’d wondered whether he could ever show his true self, ever again.

The answer was yes.

Jack opened himself up completely to Summer. He put a little distance between them so she could see him. Really see him. Every inch, from his face to his toes, including his slightly inflated ever-hopeful dick.

Everything he felt was right there. He’d been hopelessly lonely. Not just these past six nightmare months, but before, too. Lonely and dispirited and a little bit lost. When he’d seen Summer again, something had clicked for him. Just lit up something inside him and he recognized that he’d never forgotten her. He’d thrown something good away but he’d been young then. Hadn’t understood what he’d had.

He understood it now.

“Look at me,” he said. “Really look at me. See what I am now and not what I was then.”

Summer understood exactly what he meant. And he realized she had always understood him. He could talk to her and not have to explain the subtext because she got it. Maybe because she was a journalist and sensitive to nuance, maybe because her horrible childhood had forced her to develop antennae, maybe they just vibrated on the same wavelength, but Summer got him.

“I’m looking,” she said, gazing straight into his eyes.

“This is not like before. I’m not leaving you. As a matter of fact I’m going to stick to you like glue. You’re going to be sick of me.”

“Because I’m in danger.” Her voice was flat.

“That, too. But I’ve been on protection detail before and this is different. You’re in danger and I’m here to protect you, I’m here to make sure you come out of this intact. And you will, because anyone gunning for you will have to go through me. But most of all, when all of this is over and everyone who has to be dead is dead and everyone who has to be in jail is in jail, after that—I’m still going to stick to you like glue. We bonded last night.”

“We had sex last night, sure,” Summer said evenly.

“That wasn’t sex.”

She smiled for the first time. “Sure felt like sex.”

“I mean, yes, it was sex, of course it was, but—” Jack’s tongue got all tangled. He knew what he wanted to say but he didn’t know the order. Or he didn’t have the right words. Something was wrong. The things he wanted to say were...big. And let’s face it—a little scary.

He opened his mouth again, hoping to not put his foot in it, when his cell pinged. Joe. Joe Harris. His sister’s lover and the reason he could be across the country from Isabel. Isabel was safe. Joe was in love with his sister and he would protect her with his life. Had saved Isabel’s life not long ago.

“Yo,” Jack said, stepping slightly away from Summer.

They were in the middle of something really important, but he didn’t mind the interruption. Gave him some time to work things out in his head before saying them to Summer.

“So the ASI plane should land in about an hour at Reagan. Can you and Summer get there unobserved?”

“Absolutely.” Jack was already walking back into the bedroom. “We’ll be there.”

“Get to the general aviation section, I’ll text you the plane tail number and the pilot’s cell. Don’t let anyone see you.”

“Dude.”

“Okay, okay. I’ve got Isabel on my back about this. Big time. I swear to God, Delvaux, if anything happens to you and Summer, my life won’t be worth living, so make sure nothing does.”

“Hen pecked,” Jack said. “How does that feel?”

“Great. Love it. Food’s definitely worth it. So we’ll call while you’re in the air. I’ve never met Summer but tell her she’s got a lot of fans around here. Lots of admirers. And that we’re all sorry about her place.”

“Yeah.” Jack scrabbled for his jeans. “Sarin’s no joke.”

“No. I mean the bombing.”

“Wait.” Jack froze. His eyes met Summer’s, she’d followed him into the bedroom. She sensed something. “What is this about Summer’s apartment?”

“Shit,” Joe swore. “Don’t tell me you don’t know. That Nick didn’t call you.”

“Fuck.” Jack had done the unthinkable last night. He’d toned down his cell ring so that if someone called in the middle of the night it wouldn’t wake Summer. And then he’d fallen into a sex-induced coma and had missed a call. This was unforgiveable. “I didn’t get the call. I’ll ping Nick right now. So what happened?”

Summer was close by him, a hand on his arm. He put his hand over hers, watched her eyes.

“Her apartment was blown up around 4:00 a.m. Nick will tell you about it. Right now the best guess is a grenade launcher. The place looks like Beirut, man. Nick showed me pictures.”

“Fuck.” Summer was clutching his arm, staring up at him wide-eyed. “Talk to you from the plane then,” he told Joe and thumbed off.