Mercy Page 8

  Jarrett mentally calculated the bills and thought about the condo he could buy in D.C. with that money. “Jesus, really?”

  “You didn’t read the bill before you paid it?”

  “I would have handed you a million dollars and not asked any questions. God knows what you did was worth even more than that.” Keeping the government’s eyes off Jarrett’s past and negotiating a deal that bordered on bribery could have landed Bast in prison as well.

  “Good to know for the future, but for the record, I’m not looking for more work. I don’t want to do this dance with you again. I’d rather you be free.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Bast shrugged. “After all, if you go away and the club closes, then where would I eat and conduct after-hours business?”

  Jarrett knew his friend of more than a decade was kidding, but still . . . “That’s moving, really.”

  “I’m here for you.”

  “But I know what I’m dealing with this time.”

  Bast groaned. “Cut the bullshit.”

  He was one of the few people on the earth who could utter those words and remain standing. Jarrett didn’t take shit. Despite the expensive suits and command he exercised over the floor of his club, underneath he still could drop a man to his knees without guilt. “Excuse me?”

  “This woman left you in pieces last round.”

  Jarrett shook it off because the memory shoved him back in the dark hole he struggled and fought to break free from . . . with Bast’s help. “That’s an overstatement.”

  “Is it?” Bast stood up and rebuttoned his suit jacket. “Jarrett, we’ve been friends a long time. Back before you were respectable—”

  “Am I now?”

  “—and before my private life got paraded around every bookstore.”

  “I don’t like where this conversation is going.” When Bast whipped out the “we’ve been friends” speech, a lecture usually followed.

  “You are not alone in that.” Bast rolled his shoulders back, stretching to his towering height. “You want me to tell Richard to be on call and get the law firm ready to do courtroom battle because this time it could go the distance, fine. You want me to step in and get you out of trouble, and with Becca around trouble is coming, my friend, I’ll do that, too. But maybe we can cut this off before you have to rebuild your life again and just kick her the hell out.”

  All good options. Jarrett didn’t plan to follow any of them. “Let’s say I don’t send her away.”

  Bast blew out a pained breath. “There has to be another woman in the D.C. metro area you can fuck.”

  The word slammed into Jarrett. Mindless fucking mixed with a touch of revenge had been the plan when he first saw Becca standing in the alley. But something inside him rebelled at the thought of hearing the label now. He’d engaged in that behavior back when he got out of jail. Nights with women he barely knew, names he couldn’t remember, all while trying to screw Becca out of his head for good. So, he recognized the concept. He just couldn’t get it to work for him when it came to her.

  Bast held up his cell phone. “Hell, I can call four women right now and set you up for the night of your life.”

  And he was a guy with that kind of access. “This isn’t about sex.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I know what I’m doing.” But since he just made the sex comment, Jarrett wondered if that were true. This was supposed to be sex only, and now he denied it. Becca had him spinning in circles.

  Bast rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Clearly.”

  “Have you ever known me to be out of control?” Jarrett regretted the words as soon as they were out because Bast actually did.

  “You don’t want me to answer that.” Whatever he was going to say next cut off when his cell rang. After a brief check he glanced at Jarrett again. “Just promise you’ll keep me on speed dial.”

  “I’m not stupid.” Jarrett put it out there. Now he’d have to hope to hell that was true.

  • • •

  Becca spent some time after he left the condo searching the place. The move wasn’t about setting him up or violating his privacy. It was more about taking an inventory and seeing what tools, if any, were at her disposal to hunt down the CIA information she needed.

  For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to open his bedroom door, the same bedroom they once shared. She knew he could hide documents and files in there. She also understood how tight a rein he held on his anger when he touched her. He might think she couldn’t feel the tremble in his fingers, but she did.

  The initial fears about him hurting her dissipated with each passing moment but crossing the threshold to his private space might be the one push too far. So, for now, even though skipping that room nearly killed her, she fought the impulse to storm inside. She tried to focus on something she sucked at almost as much as waiting—taking a few minutes to relax and not strategize.

  After ten minutes of fiddling, Becca finally figured out the expensive new stereo system he’d installed since she moved out. One last button and music filled the condo. The steady beat bounced off the white walls and high ceiling. She hummed as she walked back to the kitchen because humming helped her think, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t help but think about her life now and what it could become.

  Part of her couldn’t believe less than twelve hours had passed since she showed up in the alley. Being in the safety of the condo helped settle the jumping in her stomach and the constant racing of her mind. For the first time in months, maybe years, she wasn’t looking around corners or waiting for the next gunshot or random fire.

  She’d escaped the last attack, but only by inches. They—whoever they were—set off a flash bomb in her kitchen, blocking her path to the front door. Good thing she always had a second and third way out. She didn’t hesitate to throw the emergency rope out the bedroom window and climb down three floors. She’d hit the ground before they started firing into the street.

  She’d been ducking and hiding ever since.

  But right now her biggest concern was her wavering control. Once she fought through the humiliation and harsh whip of Jarrett’s voice, she found her equilibrium. He wanted to use sex to control her, but truth was she had the same weapon at her disposal. She enjoyed sex with him, craved it even. The way she could make him react gave her an advantage.

  It all sounded simple. She could find her release, work off tension and be safe. Or so she thought until her needs and his response burrowed under her skin. She never should have straddled him. Something about the intimacy of that position had her remembering the days when she fell fully into her cover and longed for her relationship with him to be real.

  Attuned to every sound, when she picked up the soft click of the door, she yanked open the top drawer and grabbed a knife. With her back shoved into the corner of the kitchen cabinets, she crouched down, ready to spring.

  Jarrett walked in and came to a sudden stop. His gaze zoomed right in on her, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Not the usual welcome home.”

  Words tumbled out of her in relief. “Maybe not for you, but this is my life lately.”

  “What’s with the attack mode?’

  She forced her fingers to ease up on the death grip on the knife handle. “I’m a bit vulnerable up here all day.”

  “Ah, I see.” He nodded as he closed the door behind him. “But what you aren’t right now is naked.”

  That again. She set the knife on the counter and picked up the coffeepot. “I didn’t want to burn myself.”

  “Does that happen to you a lot?” As he walked toward her, he draped his suit jacket across the back of the sectional and loosened his tie. “You, the woman who blows up buildings and can carve up a man three times her size in ten seconds.”

  Forget walking. The man was stalking her. She put the po
t down and held on to the counter behind her for support. “You forgot to mention my sniper-like shooting skills.”

  His gaze traveled along the length of her open shirt—his shirt—and the significant slip of skin open to his view. “The shirt comes off now.”

  Something about his hands mesmerized her. Always had. Lean fingers, nice clean nails but hints of calluses on his palms from the harder life he once lived. He wore a stainless steel watch. Nothing fancy. Just practical, expensive but subtle like he was.

  Her fingers clenched against the cool marble countertop. “Why are you upstairs?”

  One of his eyebrows lifted as he undid the top button of his dress shirt. “Why do you think?”

  A ball of desire whipped around inside her. “Afraid I’m digging through your drawers?”

  “I could probably say something crass, but I’ll refrain.” Still, he did smile. “The shirt. Remove it.”

  She looked down. Thanks to her stance, the opening between the edges of her shirt now reached down to her stomach and one of her nipples peeked out. “It’s basically unbuttoned.”

  “That’s not the same thing, now is it?”

  A thought whispered through her mind. She glanced up at the clock above the mantel. “It’s only eleven. The club is in full swing, yet you’re here with me.”

  “Making sure you’re not causing trouble.” But his voice turned husky as his gaze dipped, skimming over her exposed breasts then lower.

  Her body, so in tune with him, reacted to the rich sound and visual caress. Her heart rate ticked up and she struggled to keep her breathing steady. “That’s not what you want? Me being naughty so you have to control me?”

  “Your mood changed, grew less cautious and certainly less submissive, since you were hanging out in front of my security cameras.” He leaned against the counter, facing her.

  “Maybe I’ve decided if I’m going to be here and be your sex toy, I’d really play the role.” No, she needed the desire to run both ways. If she was going to be vulnerable and needy, so was he, damn it.

  “That’s not exactly what we agreed to.” He pushed off from the counter and stood up.

  In a long, leisurely sweep, she ran her palms down the front of his shirt. From his shoulders to his stomach his heated skin burned under her hands. “Are you complaining about me enjoying my assigned role too much?”

  He swallowed visibly. “Enjoying and controlling are two different things.”

  “You’re in charge.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  She leaned in and placed a kiss at the base of that sexy throat. The thumping beat she felt there made her smile. He might act indifferent, but his body signaled something else. Something primal and hot and ready to bend her over.

  Pulling back, her hands went to her shirt. “Then you tell me. Should I be naked for this part?”

  His knuckles turned white where he curled his hands into fists. “For every part, actually.”

  She let the oversized shirt fall to the tile with a whoosh. “Better?”

  Before he could say anything, she closed in and slowly, with aching precision, opened one button after the other, revealing miles of his sleek skin underneath. “And you need less clothing, too.”

  His hands found her hips as she stripped the shirt open and down his shoulders. When she tugged, he let go of her but only long enough to let his shirt fall.

  Something about seeing his chest and tracing a line along the scar under his collarbone made her pulse race at sprint speed. He could wear his pants if he wanted, but she loved having this part of him open to her view. Like this, she could forget about the past with its cycle of lies, drugs and rumors. Seeing the mix of his new business legitimacy and the reminders of the harsh existence he’d overcome got her hot every single time.

  “Tell me what you want.” She whispered the question as she undid the buckle on his pants.

  “Your mouth sucking my cock.”

  He always did give good naughty talk. “That was the plan.” She pressed her lips to his bare skin, caressing and licking over his flat nipples. Savoring his taste as she traced a line between his developed pecs. She dragged her mouth over him, tasting every inch as she moved lower. She didn’t rush. Every exposed bit of flesh enjoyed her attention. And when she kissed his stomach and it dipped on a harsh intake of breath, she did it again.

  By the time she dropped to her knees and she reached the top of his pants, his hands were tunneled in her hair and his harsh breathing hammered in her ears. As she lowered his zipper, he pushed her hair to the side and off her neck. She could feel his heated gaze burning into her from above.

  Still, she didn’t skip one luscious step. She slid her fingers inside his pants and past the waistband of his black briefs. With her palms brushing over his ass, she stripped everything off and down his legs. When his belt buckle clanked against the cool floor, she started a trail of kisses back up his firm thighs.

  She could smell him, feel the energy vibrate off of him. She watched him open his legs as much as the dropped pants would allow and smiled when he swore about the confining material.

  Not that she planned to free him. Oh, no. She had him where she wanted him.

  A slight tremble ran through his hands and his chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath. All while he watched her, and since he did, she decided to give him a show. Licked her tongue over him before taking him deep inside. She sucked and kissed and worked her mouth up and down his length while her hands caressed and squeezed his balls.

  His hips shifted forward, drawing him in until she deep-throated him. She could taste him and feel the sweat gather on his skin. His fingers clenched against her skull as he whispered her name. “Rebecca.”

  Exactly what she wanted.

  She traveled up again, spending time licking the tip of his cock and touching her finger against the dampness there. With a slight lift of her head she looked up and saw his gaze boring into her. Her lips smacked against his skin and a grumble escaped his lips.

  “Stand up.” His order sounded breathy and the tension etched across his mouth spoke to waning control.

  She treated him to one last sweep of her tongue across his balls before getting her feet under her. Her fingernails raked against his skin as she stood, trailing her hands up and over him. She’d almost straightened when he grabbed her around the waist and her body took flight. She landed on the counter with his body between her legs.

  He pushed the hair back off her face then held it in his hands. “I’m going to fuck you.”

  Instead of kissing her on the mouth, his teeth skimmed over her breasts. One nipple then the other, touching just enough to entice but not enough to relieve the ache building inside her.

  “Jarrett, please.”

  He continued to suck on her nipples while his fingers dipped between her legs. With an arm around her butt, he pulled her to the edge of the counter and slipped his middle finger inside her.

  From the kissing and touching, she was ready. Her body grew wetter with each pass of his finger, and her heels rested against the back of his thighs, pulling him in tighter against her.

  He put her hand on his cock and pumped it up and down. Using her palm as a guide, he slid his tip over her slit. Back and forth until she lifted off the counter in an attempt to drag him inside.

  His shoulders stiffened. “Wait.”

  “What?” Lost in a sensual haze she almost shouted the question. “Now?”

  “Condom.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Give me a second.”

  He blew out long breaths. With his teeth clenched, he shoved away from her and bent down. She heard the rustle of clothing and the ding of his belt buckle. Then he was back. His face swam in front of hers.

  “This time will be quick.” His fingers fumbled with the condom packet.

  “Here.” She grabbed it out of
his hand and rolled it over his cock, watching him grind his teeth as she touched him. “I vote for rough and fast.”

  His nod turned to a groan as he pushed inside her. He withdrew then slowly plunged again.

  “Faster.” She grabbed on to his bare shoulders and flattened her chest against his.

  “I want it to last.” He whispered the words, right before he licked a line from the bottom of her ear to her neck.

  “Harder.” She dug her fingernails into his skin for emphasis.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  The words ground against her as his tempo increased. His finger found her clit and he rubbed as he pushed. The joint pressure had her gasping. She’d been so primed, so ready for him, that her body responded to the friction as if they’d been rolling around naked for hours.

  “Jarrett.” She put her mouth against his ear. “Make me come.”

  “Yes.” Whatever he said next got lost in a grunt.

  But her patience expired. “Now.”

  She shivered and the tiny muscles inside her pulsed and tightened. When he thrust into her the fourth time, her orgasm exploded. That’s all it took and she felt it in every cell and every fiber. Her toes pointed and her back strained. Her heels dug into his legs as a harsh breath ripped out of her.

  “Jarrett . . .” She whispered his name right before her head fell back.

  Her body left the counter as he pulled her up and into his arms. One hand balanced under her ass and the other traveled over her back. His hips never stopped moving. He pumped into her. His breath blew over her neck as he kissed her there.

  With a final shudder, he buried his face in her hair. His hips punched forward as the orgasm roared through him.

  A good minute passed before she roused herself again. Her body had turned to jelly. When he lifted her off and let her body slide down his, she worried her feet wouldn’t support her. Good thing he continued to hold her tight.

  When he finally pulled back and glanced down at her, her heart flipped. Actually shifted, stopping her breath. Somehow she forced out a word. “Impressive.”