Sake Bomb (37 page)

Kizzie didn’t slow down, circling her thumb
over the engorged head of his cock. Her other fingers lightly
gripped satiny steel; found a new motion to repeat and locked in on
the action. She closed the gap between them, found his mouth with
hers. A tentative kiss at first—she really was swimming in
unchartered waters here—then more confident.

She wanted to feel good.

More than that, she wanted to make Xander
feel good. To wipe away whatever could make her tough Dom shake
like a leaf.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, his hands
gripped her ass, pulling her against him as his tongue made another
maddeningly slow circuit of hers. Kizzie couldn’t breath and didn’t
want to. She wanted out of these clothes; to feel his wet skin
sliding over hers; to feel him slipping inside her.

He broke the kiss abruptly. “Stop.” Almost a
whisper, soft and husky, his erratic breathing running step for
step with hers.

Her lids fluttered open, seeing her own lust
reflected in his eyes. Beneath the desire something cold glinted in
their depths, small enough for her to ignore it. “I know,” Kizzie
pecked his chin, kissed up his jaw. “YesSir, pleaseSir,
thankyouSir,” she said quickly. “Now, can we—”

“No.” His hands went back to the wall on
either side of her head, caging her in. “Stop.”

That brought her fully out of the haze with
a frown.

Xander was angry.
Really
angry. Brows
low and knotted, nostrils flared, mouth compressed into a thin
line. Not the controlled Dom kind of angry she’d seen before. He
looked close to hitting something, or her, and for half a second
confusion gave way to fear. But Xander wouldn’t hurt her. So…

“What’s the problem?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Plenty. Did they really need to go into that
right now, though? “Uh…”

“What the hell were you
thinking
!”
His voice went way past normal, and Kizzie’s spine stiffened, her
wall of indifference shot back up.

She took a deep breath, searched his face.
“Why are you angry?”

“Angry?” A short, sarcastic chuckle. “You
think I’m just
angry
? Have you seen your face?”

“Way to make a girl feel special, X,” she
joked. His eyes went murderous. Her shoulders slumped. “It’s just a
scratch or two.”

“A scra—? Jesus, Kizzie, I could shake you
right now.”

“I’m all for you spanking me.”

“What kind of stupid ass move was that!” He
groaned. “You just couldn’t wait, huh? Couldn’t trust I
might
know what I’m doing?”

“I wasn’t—”

“Thinking! Yes, I’ve established that. Pay
attention. You should have told me what you were planning.”

“
Told
you
?” Kizzie fired back.
“Told you when, exactly? In the past couple days you weren’t
speaking to me?”

“So instead of apologizing for assuming I’d
ever
take
what you didn’t want to give, you ran head first
into an ambush?
That
makes a shit ton of sense.”

Her head drew back, the disappointment, the
hurt
on Xander’s face clawing through her. “I…I saw an
opening, I took it,” Kizzie said reflexively. “What, you wanted me
to wait around while you and Sumi had a civil chat over tea and
crumpets? S’not what I do. Me waiting, me even
hesitating
means people die—
innocent
people die. So I go in and get
what I need, however I need to get it. That’s how I operate.”

“Not anymore, you don’t,” he grit out.

“I don’t answer to you, Xander. And I’m
doing my job, tracking down the bomb that you
—
”

“Goddammit, woman!
Fuck
the job!” he
roared. “Quit hiding behind that and understand it could have been
you! What if…Christ, Kizzie…” His voice cracked and he swallowed
hard. When he spoke again it was hoarse, strained. “What if when I
came through that door it was
your
lifeless body laying
there? What if…I’d lost you?”

At the torment in his eyes, an unfamiliar
burn pressed hot behind hers. Warning bells clanged in her head.
Xander was too close to breaching all of her defenses and she
couldn’t allow that. She forced her shoulders into a half-hearted
shrug. “Guess you’da had to find another way to get Harvey.”

He slammed his palm into the wall inches
from her head and she jumped. “You think I give a good goddamn
about that bomb, Kizzie?” he said gruffly. “Do you honestly think I
care about it more than I care about you? That I could live with
you being hurt or killed going after it?”

Kizzie’s eyes widened and all her snark
lodged in her throat. She needed to back away from his words but
couldn’t. Some asshole had inconveniently built a wall behind her.
A charged silence hung between them, broken by the soft pelt of
water streaming from the shower head.

“Fuck,” Xander bit out, chest heaving. He
looked down, dragging in ragged breaths before eyeing her again.
“We gotta talk.”

Fatigue tugged at Kizzie’s muscles, the
adrenaline spike choosing this inopportune moment to dissipate.
Trembling, she dropped her head back against the tiles, unable to
hide the exhaustion in her voice.

“Please don’t do this…pretend…” The V in
Xander’s forehead dug in deeper. “I’m not asking you to care about
me, Xander. Don’t need you to, don’t even want you to. I don’t
matter. The job matters. Stopping that bomb
matters
. You and
me could’ve just…” She circled her hand lazily through the air, a
synonym for sex, let it drop again at her side. She exhaled
heavily. “…then you could’ve gone back to the wife and I— Look, it
was stupid, but…it didn’t have to mean anything.”

That small, cold glint in his eyes
crystallized, grew into something harder, bigger. “Get out,” he
growled through bared teeth. She held his fiery gaze. “Get out, get
dry, get dressed. Be sitting on that bed when I come in there.”

The threat/command combo rolled off her
shoulders, cool as the water falling from the shower head. She
breathed a chuckle through her nose.

“Kizzie,” he warned, grabbing her wrist as
she slipped by.

“Don’t tou—” She spun and jerked out of his
hold. Both hands shot up fast, palms stopping just short of
striking his chest. The move that would have fractured his sternum
had she followed through. Her whole body shook hard, and the deep
breath didn’t smother it. A corner of her mouth curled up into an
empty half-smile.

“Gonna need a new pair.” Pointer fingers
turned down toward her wet boots, her blank stare never left his
face as she backed away. “Jet black. Nine and a half.”

* * * *

X
ander didn’t
move until she’d left the bathroom. If he went now, after that
snarky comment and forced apathy, he was bound to spank her raw.
Best he calmed down. He’d been in a silent rage from the moment he
noticed Kizzie and Sumi were gone, and the fury only grew once he
realized how they’d slipped out. Finding Kizzie in that apartment,
hands wrapped around a dead woman’s throat, eviscerated his last
shred of control. It also made up his mind for him: He had to tell
her the truth.

About everything. About every
body
.
Connolly…Tate…Naima… Phil…

Himself.

The next move would be Kizzie’s. She’d
either run to him or run from him, and Xander knew he couldn’t
handle the latter.

He killed the flow of cold water and slung a
towel around his waist, exiting the bathroom mildly calmer than
when he’d entered. But the litter across the floor ratcheted him
back up to DEFCON 1.

Two wet boots just outside the alcove that
led to the bedroom. Wet jeans six inches farther, socks peaking out
from beneath the denim, soaked blue panties still in the seat.
Another foot yielded a wet bra and shirt. Xander seethed, muttered
“Phil had better hope his ass is gone.”

He rounded the corner. Phil was still
stretched across the bed, stupid grin on his face and hands tucked
behind his head. He stared at whatever was coming across the
TV.

Xander spun around, ready to let fly. Phil’s
room was a standard—no separate common area, no additional rooms or
cubbies. So unless Kizzie had stuffed herself in the closet…

“Where is she?”

“She left.”

“I can see that, you ass,” Xander barked,
not liking the mirth in Phil’s voice. “You didn’t go after
her?”

“Nothing gets by you, ace.”

Xander flung the door open and looked both
ways down the hall. Empty. What the hell was she doing? He turned
back to Phil. “Go find her.”

“Let her cool off. I’ve never seen a woman
dress so—”

Rage carried Xander across the room. Enough
of the jokes. He wanted to break something. Phil would do.

Lightning-fast the big man shot to his feet,
fists balled. “Bad idea.”

The best moments of Xander’s life started
out as bad ideas. A reckless smile split his face. Phil had been
itching for a rematch since they’d fought as kids and Xander was
happy to oblige. “You better not have any hard feelings after.”

A wry chuckle flitted across the room.
“
Harvey
.” Phil sidestepped carefully, still in a fighter’s
stance as he inched out of the corner. “Harvey’s the goal, not her.
When you’re thinking—straight or otherwise—you’ll realize how
stupid it was to get your ass kicked over a woman who’ll be back in
a couple hours. You don’t want this fight any more than I do.”

“You don’t know
what
the fuck I
want.”

“That makes two of us.” Phil shot back. He
sighed, shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides. “She was
pretty upset. Give her some space to think.”

Xander’s fists were still balled. He took a
step closer. “How could you let her go head first into an
ambush!”

“
She
went head first, knowing
full-well I’d track the lock, which I did. Kizzie came to me the
other night, talking about spiders and flies and…hell, I dunno.” He
shrugged. “She asked for a head start… Her mind was made up; she
was going whether I helped her or not. ”

And there it was.

Kizzie trusted Phil to have her back, but
didn’t trust Xander at all. He ground his teeth, nostrils flared.
“It’s not your job to protect her.”

“Whose job is it, yours? Fine, you want it
that way, stop being a dick and bring her on. Until then, it’s my
job to protect
you
, and you’re making my job so goddamn
difficult…

“This is the last crack at Harvey. No
storybook third time’s a charm, no fairy godmother to wave a wand
and make it magically appear. We lose it now it’s lost. So, yeah, I
let Kizzie take the risk, ‘cause she’s damn good at what she does
and ‘cause I’m not the one falling for her.”

Xander forced his fists over his scalp and
then laced his fingers behind his neck. Groaning, he tipped his
head back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Apology accepted.”

His heart beat harder than a bass tube.
Xander inhaled a deep breath into his constricting lungs, trying to
clear the haze of worry threatening to suffocate him. Kizzie was
out there alone, wandering through Tokyo late at night. Trained CIA
agent or not, it didn’t stop a thousand horrible scenarios from
rushing through his head. Another deep breath and he sighed
heavily.

“She’s gonna drive me to drink, Phil,” he
said, almost plaintively. “Hook me up to a whiskey IV,
would’ja?”

“You always did have a weakness for strong
women,” Phil said, chuckling. “Seems you finally found one as
stubborn as you are.” He motioned toward the food on the table
before plopping down on the bed again. “She ordered for everybody;
even Sumi, though I can’t be sure it’s not poisoned.”

Xander puffed out another breath and trudged
over to the table. Three full plates sat on the surface, one empty
plate beside them. He knew who’d cleaned that one. “She didn’t
eat.”

“Short of force-feeding her, I doubt Kizzie
was hungry. I’m surprised she stayed put as long a she did after
what happened. Sumi still alive?”

Xander grunted. True to his word, he hadn’t
laid a hand on her, and the amount of control that took far
exceeded anything required to throw a whip or work a tawse. Sumi
had no limits; wanted to be treated roughly. Exhibited the kind of
blind devotion that could get a sub seriously hurt. Or dead.

Kizzie didn’t understand by not punishing
Sumi he was torturing the shit out of the girl. In just a short
time Xander had seen the effects, and the technique had proved
useful in keeping her in line…right up until Kizzie decided to run
off with her.

Another deep breath. “Stix?”

“Promises delivery tonight.” Phil checked
his phone. “I’ll head out in a bit to meet him.”

Good. They’d get the info they needed and
go. And once this was done, maybe Kizzie would come with him.

He bit off a hunk of her cold burger,
forcing it down through the doubt in his throat. Another mechanical
bite, chewing without tasting. Kizzie was fine. He had to believe
that. She’d come back, they’d both have cooler heads and then he
could get to the bottom of why she kept pushing him away.

“Wouldn’t have got my ass kicked,” Xander
mumbled around the food in his cheek. “For the record.”

“In a fair fight? Nah...” Phil flipped the
channel to yet another station he couldn’t translate. “Lucky me, I
don’t fight fair. Yank the towel, feint left, knee to the balls.
‘Down…goes…Xander.’”

T
he fourth blow to
her side should have brought Kizzie to her knees, not so much by
the strength but the location, right over her previously damaged
ribs. Ribs that still gave her problems, especially after a brawl
with a blue-haired lunatic
and then
this new asshole decided
to hit there repeatedly. A fifth strike connected and she winced,
clenched her teeth.