Beneath the Secrets: Part One (9 page)

“Yes. You were and we are, but know this, Kara. Whatever the outcome of this game, I’m going to win.” His mouth slanted over hers, crushing her lips to his, his tongue stroking against hers with rough, angry thrusts meant to claim her, claim everything about her, and them, and this night. She moaned and leaned into him and that punch in his gut she so easily created happened all over again. Damn it to hell, he thought again.
 

Blake flipped her around, pressing her knees into the mattress, and holding one hand on her lower back. “Don’t move.” He felt the tension in her spine, her desire to resist, and he held her there, waiting for her spine to soften into submission, before he lifted his hand and rolled the condom over himself.

He came back to her, widening her legs and ignoring her anxious look over her shoulder. Blake fit his cock into the slick V of her body and ignored his instinct to ready her, wasted no time with a prelude. He drove into her, hard and deep, and she arched her back, pushing her hips into him. His fingers curled into her hips, and he thrust against her, pulled back, thrust again. Trying his damnedest to send her a message of who was in control and to fuck her out of his system, to fuck himself into the kind of bliss that tore away the memories, the pain, the need, he could never fill. This is what he did. He rode the ride, the woman, the adrenaline, until there was nothing but pleasure. Nothing but release. And then there was just nothing. At least for a while, until next time.

Too soon, the blood pounded deep in his groin, tugging at his balls, at his body, forcing the moment of release, forcing him to let go of the escapism of the moments before he came, and the adrenaline slid away into the muddled darkness of the aftermath of the sex.

Sweat gathered on his brow, his muscles bunched beneath his skin. Blake groaned with the tug of his release, trying to hold back, unable to succeed. He lunged hard into Kara and shook with the intensity of his shaft hitting the deep center of her body, of her muscles clenching around him and pulling his release from him. Time faded into shadows, sensations, pleasure, until he collapsed on top of Kara, and she flattened onto her stomach. The sounds of their breathing filled the room, the sense of reality returning slowly seeping into Blake’s mind. The sense of Kara beneath him, of him liking her there, of her feeling right there, with it. The scent of her teasing his nostrils, sweet and feminine, and soft.
 

Blake started to roll to his side and take Kara with him, but he caught himself a second before he did. What the hell was he doing? Cuddling? Flipping cuddling? He was losing his f-ing mind. Blake rolled off of her and shoved off the bed, standing up and giving her his back, before stalking toward the bathroom, ridding himself of the condom and tossing it into the trash. He glowered at himself in the mirror a moment, but didn’t dare leave Kara alone. He had no idea how she’d pulled off drugging him before. He wasn’t leaving her an opening to do it again.
 

He stalked back to the main room and found Kara sitting up, her knees curled to her chest. “Why after you insisted I come here do I feel like you now want me to leave?” she demanded.
 

Blake snatched up his jeans and started to tug them on. “I don’t fucking want you to leave.”

“You aren’t very convincing,” she snapped back.
 
“And you say ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ a lot.”

Blake’s hands settled on his hips. “You have a problem with the word ‘fuck’?”

“You use it in every other sentence.”

“So I’ve been told.” By his brother Royce’s wife, Lauren, who was one of the only women he knew who came off sweet and still fought like a tigress. Until Kara. And he liked it. He liked it a little too much. His cock thickened. Apparently, it did too.
 

“But you don’t care enough to stop,” Kara commented.
 

“It’s not that I don’t care.” Blake ran a rough hand through his hair, and he forced his shoulders to relax on a breath. “It’s a habit. I picked it up from a client I worked for.” He sauntered to the desk chair and sat down, trying not to think about Kara spread wide on the desk. He failed and adjusted his jeans.
 
“Someone would say ‘Good morning’ and he’d reply with something like ‘Good morning and fuck you. Now where is product I ordered?” Kara’s eyes went wide and Blake grinned. “Or there was this time he took a bite of his food in a restaurant and dropped his fork in distaste and grumbled ‘fuck’, then glared at the people walking in the door and told them to ‘run for their fucking lives’.”
 

Kara laughed, a soft, feminine note that did funny things to his insides. “He sounds both horrible and entertaining.”

“He was a jerk but a damn entertaining and efficient one, too. He did his job.”

“Which was what?”

“Security.”

“Sounds like he might need some protection of his own.”

Their eyes locked and held and the air thickened instantly. His muscles bunched, tension rippling through him. If anyone needed protection, it was him from this woman. For now, he’d settle for a distraction. He reached for the phone. “You hungry? I’m ordering pizza. You can go over the restaurant staff with me while we eat.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’m hungry.”

The air crackled and damn if he wasn’t ready to say “fuck the pizza” and go with her instead. He arched a brow. “For pizza?”

“Pizza. Yes. Cheese.” His lips hinted at a smile that said she knew what he was thinking.
 

“Cheese. Somehow I thought you’d be more complicated than that.”

“Sometimes the answers are simple.”

Blake snorted. “Rarely.”
 

“I didn’t say easy. I said simple. There’s a difference.”

“Touché,” he murmured, releasing a heavy breath on the word. After all, what he wanted was pretty cut and dry, pretty damn simple. Find the enemy. Kill the enemy. And damn it, to save Kara, which should
not
be on the list. And save her from what anyway? Mendez? Richter? Herself?
 

Blake scrubbed his jaw and turned away from her, reaching for the phone, and hesitating. Kyle was right. She could be undercover with an agency and he could get her killed if he wasn’t careful. Considering the last woman he’d tried to save had ended up dead, maybe he needed to just get the hell away from her. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
 

Fuckfuckfuck and add about a thousand more “fucks”, because not only was he entangled with this woman, and on dangerous ground, he knew he was going to try to stop saying “fuck” because she wanted him to. He cared what bothered her. He hadn’t let himself give a damn what anyone thought in a long while and he didn’t want to give a damn now. But he did.

Oh yeah. He was fucked up where this woman was concerned. He might as well order the pizza and stop wasting time trying to convince himself he wasn’t.
 

Then he’d “fuck” her again and hope she didn’t do him “Denver style” afterwards.
 

Chapter Eight

When Kara heard Blake order four pizzas, her blood ran cold at what seemed the certainty that guests were coming.
 
She wasn’t waiting around to be dessert for a bunch of Blake’s crew, who surely he’d called to San Francisco. What had she been thinking to come here alone? And why did she keep thinking that sleeping with a monster was anything but sleeping with a monster? He was one of them. She hated them.
 

Kara waited until Blake turned his head to try to locate the address for the delivery order and she scrambled across the bed and snatched up his shirt (since he’d destroyed the buttons on hers, damn him) and tugged it over her head. Next, she darted for her skirt halfway across the room. She silently cursed when she heard him hang up the phone and adrenaline raced through her with the urgency to dress. A second before she’d been about to claim her garment, his hand shackled her wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded as they both straightened.
 

“I’m not your crew’s chew toy, Blake. I know you think I’m some sort of whore, but I’m not. I’m—”

“What? What in the hell are you talking about, Kara? Chew toy? My crew?”

“You heard me. I’m not a toy for you and your crew to pass around. I don’t care what Mendez told you. I’m not. Let me get dressed and either treat me with respect and let me help you do your job or I’m leaving.”

“Wait.” He shook his head, looking truly baffled. “You think I have people coming here and I plan to let them use you however they please?” He glanced at the phone and back at her. “How did me ordering pizza turn into this?”

“Don’t play naive. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t even naive the day my mama popped me out and the doc slapped my ass. But apparently I do need the just-born-yesterday version of where this assumption came from because not only is no one else coming over. I’m not big on sharing.”
 

Kara drew back to study him closer, taking in the strong lines of his masculine face, the openness of his normally shielded dark eyes. He really seemed sincere in his claim. “But you ordered four pizzas.”

“Well, yeah. Of course I did. There are two of us.”

“I won’t eat two pizzas.”

“One for you and two for me. Then an extra for breakfast.”

Her brows dipped. “You can eat that much pizza?”

“I like pizza.” Amusement danced in his dark eyes. “So…you assumed I was bringing in ‘the crew’ because of the pizza I ordered?”
 

She blinked. “Well, I—”

“Overreacted,” he finished, pulling her close, his strong arms wrapping around her and his long dark hair tickling her cheek, and her senses right along with it.
 

 
“If you’re telling the truth,” Kara bargained, trying to ignore the slow spread of heat through her limbs, “prove it and let me get dressed.”
 

“I like you better naked.”
 

She ground her teeth and tried to push away from him. He held her easily. “No one is coming but you aren’t getting dress. You drugged me, Kara. I’m not giving you a chance to do it again.”

“I can’t be naked every time we’re together, Blake.”
 

“Every time we’re alone suits me just fine.”

She ignored the erotically charged reply that only made her more aware of his broad, well-muscled, bare chest. “How are we going to work together if you don’t trust me?”

“And you trust me?” he challenged.
 

“No, I don’t trust you. Why would I?”
 

“Exactly. No one trusts each other in this world.” He surprised her, sliding his hand under her hair and pulling her mouth to his. She surprised herself by not even trying to shove away. The feel of his hard body next to hers, his powerful arms holding her, was just too overwhelmingly right, even when it should be wrong.
 

His lips brushed hers, tongue teasing hers in a feather-light touch that left her trembling with need. “Taste that?” he murmured, his breath a soft, hot whisper teasing her lips with the promise of another kiss she desperately wanted. “Taste how much we want each other?”

“Yes,” she whispered before she could stop herself, but then it wasn’t like he didn’t know she’d just melted into him, that he possessed the power to easily seduce her.
   

“And how easily,” he continued, “we escape the distrust between us when we’re touching each other?” The words lingered in the air, the crackle of desire between them nearly combustible. He was right. At this moment, she could forget everything but him. She could get lost and…and just like that, he released her, stepped back from her, denying her his touch.
 

“Our hot encounters, Kara, are the closest thing to trust you’ll get in this life, and with someone else, they might get you killed. They make you drop your guard like you did to me in Denver. Get out while you can, Kara. My offer still stands to help you do it. Mendez will never know. I can make you disappear and whatever problem you are trying to deal with by working for him.”

An offer to be his kept woman shouldn’t make her stomach flip-flop, but it did. In some demented and odd way it called forward her long-dead schoolgirl Prince Charming fantasies. Only in those fantasies, Prince Charming hadn’t been a criminal. It was a sobering thought that snapped her back to reality. “No,” she whispered. “That’s just another way of being on someone’s payroll. I’m not interested.”

“I’m offering to get you out, not keep you in with me. Cash, living comfortably, and anything else you need, for as long as you need it.”

Baffled, she stared at him. “Why would you want to help me? You barely even know me. And I didn’t think…”— she stopped herself from saying “men like you”—“…just why?”

Shadows danced deep in his brown eyes, the same tormented kind she’d seen that night in Denver. “You aren’t lost yet.” His voice was a rasp of sandpaper. “Not like me.”

Her mind replayed something she’d said to him back in Denver. If I can be saved, then so can you. He’d replied We aren’t even in the same universe. Believe me. I’m lost. You can still be found. Emotion welled in her chest with the certainty of some deep pain haunting this man. She was right. There was more to Blake than met the eye.