Conning For Keeps (An Agents of TRAIT Novella) (Entangled Flaunt) (7 page)

She shouldn’t want him.

With everything that had happened last night, she should have walked the hell away from him…but she couldn’t. They were stuck here—
engaged
for the rest of the week. With the focus required to make it through their ruse, she wouldn’t have anything left to put into pretending she wasn’t aching for him.

Glutton for punishment, Marissa, always coveting what you shouldn’t have.

To hell with playing passive. If he was going to make her feel like nothing, she was going to make him come right out and say it. “Kiss me, Trevor. Unless you really aren’t interested, unless being with me like this is nothing but a job for you, kiss me like you mean it.”

More violent than a single battle, an entire war raged on his face. “Marissa, we shouldn’t.”

And that definitely wasn’t an
I don’t want to
. There were ways to deal with TRAIT, if that was all he was worried about. Rules or no rules, Josh would probably throw them a damn party for hooking up since it would solidify her commitment and force Trevor to be more amicable.

“Screw shoulds. You and I both know damn well what will happen once we get back if we don’t. It’ll be uncomfortable, and we’ll avoid each other so no one suspects. And
nothing
will come of this. If you don’t want me, that’s fine. I’ll deal. But if you do, if what I felt when you kissed me last night was real, then I don’t want to let this suffer some agonizing death because we’re too scared to touch it. Because you’re too much of a coward to touch
me
.”

That strange expression was back, haunting his eyes, and his jaw clenched so hard, it was as if his entire face turned to stone. For a minute, she thought she’d gone too far again. Pushed him away by pushing his buttons.

Then his lips crushed against hers with so much force she forgot how to breathe. He ground his erection against her until she moaned into his mouth.

“I love that sound.” He rolled off her. “Make it for me again.” His fingers slid beneath the edge of her panties, pressing against her aching clit.

That first touch nearly sent her over, and she arched off the bed, groaning as she tried to shift her hips and direct him. More. She needed more.

“Uh uh, baby girl.” His hand moved up to pin her hips against the mattress. “Your time to be in charge of this ended when I decided to let go of my self-control. You belong to me now.”

Thank you, God. I promise to hit church again before I die…and not to steal anything while I’m there.

The way he said it, the pressure of his hand, all of it made her want to surrender to him. She’d never been one for pet names, but she’d be whatever he wanted her to be as long as she had him. Breathing slowly, she nodded, stilling her movements until he released her wrists.

“Better.” He sat, yanking her t-shirt up until her breasts were free. His mouth found one nipple, sucking and teasing it while his fingers inched toward her clit.

Marissa whimpered. If he stopped now—again—she didn’t know if her ego would allow her to try later, even knowing this exquisite torture awaited her.

It was too much and not enough.

His fingers found her clit once more, circling slowly, winding her higher and higher. She pushed her muscles into the mattress as she lost herself to his touch.

A loud rapping on the door paused everything.

No. Goddamn, mother-fucking, son-of-an-ass-licking-bitch,
no
!

The cheery voice of Amy, the wedding planner, filtered around the door. “Mari? Trevor? Breakfast in fifteen…”

The mission. The damn mission was going to…

“We’ll be down for lunch,” Trevor growled.

“But…”

“Not a minute before.” The look on his face as he glared at the door said he might kill Amy if she argued. Hell, Marissa would happily help and gouge the woman’s eyes out. Only when the stomping of an over-sized cranky child faded down the hall did Trevor turn back to Marissa. “I guess with everyone else heading to breakfast, you can be loud in fifteen minutes. Until then…” He teased slowly at her clit, dipping a finger inside her warmth.

Torture.

Perfect, beautiful, amazing torture.

She mewled her pleasure and frustration and want, and a devilish smile crossed Trevor’s gorgeous lips. A smile? For her?

Oh, she was in the very best kind of trouble.

He leaned in close and whispered, “You’re so wet. Have you been this way all night, waiting for me?”

Her eyelids fluttered as she turned toward him and nipped at his jaw. “I’ve been like this for a year waiting for you.”

Lips moved against the pulse in her neck, and his fingers hooked, rubbing her G-spot until she arched off the bed again. “That’s way too much time, but you have to tell me where Mari stashed the damn condoms.”

A tiny laugh escaped Marissa, but then Trevor pressed harder, and she gasped. Now. Sex now. “In the nightstand right next to you.”

Thank God Greta had packed for them as if they were a real couple. No risk in running out of protection unless they never left the room the rest of the time they were here. Which she wasn’t against.

Trevor put the edge of the foil packet between his teeth as if to tear it open so he didn’t have to stop touching her.

Marissa raised one hand from where he’d held it insistently to the mattress. “Let me?”

The heat in his gaze warmed her right to her core, and he laid the condom in her hand. As soon as she had the square opened, she wriggled to the edge of the bed so she could sit up. Judging by the way he’d kept up his attention on her clit, he wouldn’t have been happy about her breaking contact. As the angle changed, she closed her eyes and let out a low groan. If his fingers felt this good…

One look at his cock, though, and she knew there’d be no comparison. Swallowing hard, and trying desperately to hold back the orgasm that was surging, she took him in one hand, holding him steady as she rolled the latex over his head and down his engorged length. Touching him was enough to make her insides tighten.

“Baby, come for me.”

She shook her head, trying to breathe as she fought against the urge. “I want you inside me when I do.”

“With how hard you’re squeezing my fingers, I’m not sure I can get inside you right now.”

She didn’t care if it hurt. If Trevor didn’t bury himself in her, she was going to lose it. “Please, Trevor. I need you.”

With her words, his eyes softened. The hunger didn’t disappear, but a tenderness joined it. The expression looked so much like love it made her heart clench. But he eased his fingers from her and planted a soft kiss on her brow.

“Then you shall have me.”

He poised between her legs, the head of his cock pressing lightly against her opening. So gently she wanted to scream. By the tiniest increments, he pushed inside her, filling her, making her yearn for more. All of him. Every glorious inch.

And she wanted it now.

Screw his control.

Marissa twined her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss. When they broke apart, she’d barely caught her breath when she said, “I. Need. You.”

Without another word, she wrapped her legs around his waist and yanked him toward her. He thrust into her so hard, her eyes rolled back into her head as the strongest orgasm she’d ever felt ripped through her body.

She hardly had time to recover before he pulled out and eased into her again, letting her savor every second now. Time was about to lose all meaning when it hit her.

This was so worth everything she’d gone through to get here. She would be as good as Trevor wanted her to be, if he was willing to keep her as his own.

As long as he never stopped making her feel like this.

Chapter Six

Avalanch
e

It had b
een so long since Trevor had bothered finding a woman he really connected with that he’d forgotten what amazing sex could be like. With the taste of Marissa still on his lips, he nuzzled her neck, his dick rising to attention again against the curve of her ass.

A part of him still screamed that this was a bad idea. They were supposed to be working, but Marissa undid him. She’d gotten under his skin long before he’d gotten under her clothes, but now? With her naked and pressed against him?

It wasn’t like the world was in immediate danger. This was, as Marissa would call it, a long con that the Canalis family was playing. A couple of carefully planned murders teamed with knowledge of the painting and its curse, and all the right people would fear them. It wasn’t a today or even a tomorrow specific issue. Why the government wanted the painting didn’t matter, so long as it was out of the mob’s hands sooner rather than later.

“Oh my God, stop thinking about work. They can have you the rest of the day. I promise,” Marissa purred, wriggling against him until his stiffening member was positioned where she wanted it.

Where they
both
wanted it. He groaned into her hair. They didn’t have much time before they had to get cleaned up for lunch. Duty called…unfortunately.

He started inwardly. Had he really just thought that? Unfortunately? As much as he was enjoying it, he wasn’t here for a tryst with Marissa.

This was work.

Important work, and he needed to…

She took his hand in hers and ran it down the length of her body. “I know it’s almost lunch. Do you think we have time to go again? I mean, I have a protein source handy, but you might need to eat at some point.”

He growled against her throat, nipping at her skin. They had time. Not much, but enough. “I could eat you forever.” She trembled in his embrace, and the first touch of warm wetness licked at the base of his cock. No matter what she said, her body spoke louder. Right or not, she wanted him again as much as he wanted her. He tugged her hips closer, grinding against her ass until her breath caught. “If you behave, I promise to have you more than ready for lunch.”

Her words came out like ghosts, nothing more than air and meaning. “Yes, please.”

His fingers plunged into her without warning, and she cried out, arching against him. Her ass pressed against his cock until it was nestled in the space between her cheeks. He gave a couple shallow thrusts against her skin, wanting to be inside her already but planning on taking every minute they had.

Her nails dug into his arm. “Please, Trevor.” She gasped for air as she rocked against him, clearly trying to wiggle high enough on his body to gain access to his dick. “I need you.”

Now. He’d think about work and the consequences of their actions after. Until they were done, he was going to focus on the glorious creature begging him to take her. He rubbed against her g-spot, grinding the heel of his hand against her clit, and bit down on her shoulder until she cried out. She screamed his name as she came, squeezing his fingers and riding them hard until her body went slack in his arms.

He kissed across her shoulder, and she purred, drawing a smile from him again. “Feel better?”

She nodded languidly and drew his hand up her body, running it over every hollow and curve until it met her mouth. Kisses trailed from his wrist to his knuckles, and then she wrapped her lips around the fingers that had been inside her, sucking and flicking at them with her tongue.

Trevor closed his eyes and shivered, savoring the intimacy of the gesture, the moment. “You know we’re not done yet.”

Her teeth closed on his fingers as she smiled, and her tongue toyed with the space between them like his had earlier with her slit. His balls tightened, and he breathed heavily against her neck, blowing hair across her cheek.

With a growl, he pulled his fingers from her mouth, rolled on one of the condoms Greta had so politely packed, and knelt up. Before Marissa had time to protest, he flipped her onto her back and yanked her to him. His cock teased her entrance as she gazed up at him, her eyes still hooded with a kind of desire he’d never seen before.

“I said, we’re not done.”

“And I didn’t argue. So what are you waiting for?”

“You smart-mouth little…” He drove into her in one long stroke, her saucy grin erased with a sharp inhale. It returned an instant later as she lifted her hips to rotate them against him.

The knocking at the door was enough to make him growl again, but Marissa just laughed, wrapped her legs around his waist, and started to piston her hips, drawing him in and out in short thrusts.

“Fifteen minutes to lunch!”

Trevor’s fingers dug into Marissa’s hips as he fought to keep his voice steady. “Woman, if you knock on our door for anything short of the wedding again, I’ll take it off its hinges and everyone will see exactly why we aren’t out yet.”

This time he didn’t bother listening for Amy’s footsteps to signal her departure. He had a siren beneath him that he wanted very badly to hear sing again. He pried Marissa’s legs from his waist, propping their length against his shoulders. His thumb pressed against her clit as he drove every inch of his length inside her. She arched off the bed, crying out his name.

And that was just the first verse.

…

Marissa could hardly walk as they made their way to the turret dining room. All the right places ached in
all
the best ways. As many times as she’d wondered what being with Trevor might be like…she’d never expected it to be this amazing. And to think, last night she’d been worried she’d never be good enough for him.

Now his hand rested on her back, right above the curve of her ass, and all she wanted was for him to slip his fingers a couple inches lower. She couldn’t resist smiling when she realized it probably took all his self-control to keep from doing just that.

Everyone turned their way as they entered, and Evangeline’s lips quirked to the side. Marissa was sure she’d be cornered at some point for details. She’d have to make up most of the story so it didn’t sound quite so much like it was their first time.

Or their second.

Amy-of-the-horribly-timed-door-knocking stood at the end of the table nearest them. “Glad you two could join us. You missed meeting our surprise guest this morning.”

The man at Amy’s back stood, and Marissa feared it was the minister. How embarrassing to be caught the first morning having pre-fake-marital sex.

The laughter caught in her throat when he turned around, and her feet tripped over themselves. Trevor caught her by the elbow, but his fingers flinched, squeezing tighter than necessary. They both recognized the man in front of them and were none too happy to see him already.

A full head of thick, dark hair framed a chiseled face softened only by age. Leo Canalis smiled at them, but it was the kind of smile that screamed he’d kill them as easily as embrace them. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’d ask if you were sleeping in, but I was young and in love once. I’m Leonardo Canalis.”

Next to him, Frankie flinched, his hands squeezing into fists that screamed of murder taking place in his mind—the slow and painful type. Marissa tried to keep her face impassive, but she’d heard the rumors about Leo and Jasmine Canalis. Judging by his reaction, Frankie wasn’t convinced they were lies—which only confused her more about his role in this family drama.

A man who would have his own wife killed wasn’t one to be trifled with, but Frankie clearly wanted to trifle with his father. Probably to the point where only one of them would walk away.

Knowing damn well that Trevor wouldn’t speak until he had no choice, Marissa regained as much of her composure as she could manage. “Mr. Canalis, I didn’t think we’d get to meet you until the rehearsal on Friday.”

“Work let me get away early, so I wanted to come join the party.” His eyes shifted back toward Frankie.

Work. Right.

More likely, Evangeline had made sure Daddy-dearest knew all about his son’s plans to play runaway-groom. She had to give Frankie props, he didn’t act any more nervous with Leo here than he had before. Angry, yes. Nervous? No. Either that, or it meant he was a coward and only willing to run if there wasn’t any resistance—the perfect husband for a woman like Evangeline. Marissa would have felt sorry for him if not for the fact that he was part of the problem and running wouldn’t be the solution. Offing his father though…

“Well, it’s a lovely surprise. I’m Maris…” Shit. Mari. She was supposed to be Mari.

He gave her a shrewd look. “Maris?”

“Marisol Jones. Most people call me Mari, though.” Not perfect, but hopefully it would pass. This was yet another reason she preferred being under—no slip-ups.

Amy clucked her tongue, and the problem hit her. Paperwork. Too late now.

“Lovely name, either way. And this strapping young man?” His gaze roved over her fake fiancé like he was assessing a piece of art rather than a living, breathing person.

Trevor stuck out his hand. “Trevor Smythe. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Marissa prayed no one caught onto the stupid name. Smythe and Jones. Who at TRAIT had thought that was a good idea?

But Daddy Canalis shook his hand without even blinking. “Nice grip.”

Trevor’s lips twitched, and he glanced down at her. “It comes in handy for a few things.”

And just like that, she was back to thinking about sex. Pinned to the bed, while he did wicked, wicked things to her with his tongue.

This was going to be the longest few days of her life if she couldn’t tame her raging hormones. And she had a sinking feeling Trevor wasn’t going to be very happy about the arrival of Leo Canalis.

Which meant he’d argue about fulfilling that fantasy later.

She sighed and strode to her seat. At least they’d get lunch first.

That wasn’t a fight she wanted to have on an empty stomach.

“You know why.” T
revor paced the length of their suite, feeling like a caged animal. Too many things had gone wrong on this mission, and they still hadn’t set eyes on the stupid painting. And what had he done? Gone and gotten himself tangled up in the allure of sex with the hottest criminal mind he knew. He caught sight of Marissa reclining against the couch, her long legs crossed, the top one bobbing in time with his footsteps.

He stopped his movements. As much as he hated to nip this in the bud, her posture screamed disinterest. They had a damn job to do, and all she wanted was to play at romance.

“No. Keep walking. It’s kind of yummy the way you’re all worked up, but can you at least take your shirt off?” She shrugged when he glared her way. “What? If we’re going to play this game, don’t I get to decide on at least some of the rules?”

He jerked back at the echo of his thoughts before her nonchalance hit him. She didn’t care about the mission at all, did she? “No. You don’t. Because we’re not playing the same damn game right now.” He scrubbed at his short curls, but the motion just made him think of Marissa doing the same thing. His fists fell to his sides, and he stalked over to her.

As much as he wanted to yell to get through her thick skull, he kept his voice calm and quiet to prevent it from carrying into the hallway. “We have a job to do. No more fun, Marissa. No more sex. This morning was supposed to take the edge off. Get that out of the way so we could focus on what we came here for.”

“Wow. One and done. I didn’t take you for that kind of guy.”

“Damn it, you know I’m not.” He stepped to the couch, kneeling. It put him at nearly eye-level with her. “You know how I feel now.” Too bad he wasn’t even sure at the moment considering everything she did only reminded him that he couldn’t really trust her.

“No. I know you like to have sex with me. That’s different than how you feel. Unless you have no emotions—which, believe me, has been discussed as a possibility among the women at the office.” She winked like she was teasing, but he knew better. He’d paid attention.

Playful expression or no, when her snappy comebacks turned biting, she was pissed.

He wanted to take her hands, hold her, but he was afraid if they touched, it’d lead right back to them in bed—or on the couch. This morning had proven it would take a very long time before they’d explored each other enough that they’d be willing to slow down. He hated it, but he had his self-control or he had Marissa in his arms. He couldn’t have both at once. And they clearly weren’t on task when they were having sex.

Beyond which, her behavior now had him second-guessing himself all over again.

What was he? Her partner or her mark?

Every time he mentioned the painting, Marissa’s fingers twitched. The motion was slight but, whether or not she realized she’d moved, he saw it. There was more going on here than met the eye, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Things were dangerous enough with his personal issues regarding Leo Canalis’s part in Delray’s death. Whatever was going on with Marissa and the art only made things worse. “Are you here for sex or for the mission? Or are you actually here for the damned art?”

“Oh. My. God. Is that what you really think? That when Josh brought up this mission I said, ‘Hey, I know who’ll screw up and pull me out early so I can steal a painting. Let’s get Trevor.’
I
wasn’t supposed to be here. Mari was.”

“And it shouldn’t matter, Marissa! Do you think you’re the only one who wants something beyond the mission? Canalis killed my best friend when we were just kids. Every instant since we met Frankie, I’ve been itching for revenge, but I held back because I chose a long time ago that I was going to serve my country instead of myself.” He hadn’t intended to bring up Delray—she didn’t need to know about his past, no one at TRAIT did—but it was too late to take it back.

She chose to focus on the now anyway. “And you think I didn’t? God!” She threw her hands in the air. “Is
that
why you blew me off last year? Because I’ve got too much of the criminal in my blood for your taste?”

Yes. No. He clenched his hands into fists when he found he wanted to shake her. There was no answer for that. Not a good one at least. “I didn’t know you.”