Endgame (23 page)

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Authors: Mia Downing

Tags: #erotic romance

BOOK: Endgame
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“Whoa,” he said. “Let’s back up. First, I’m not sixteen. I’m a consenting adult. You can’t be bad for me if this is what I want to learn.”

“You haven’t seen half of what I’ve seen or done half of what I’ve done. I don’t want to teach you how to do any of this, sex or spy. I want you to stay you, Aaron. Not become cold, hard, and mean like me.”

He chucked his sunglasses on the dash and frowned, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “Okay, so this is two issues, surrounding our two camps. Sex and spy, am I correct?”

“No. Yes.” She frowned. Was it? “It’s all the same issue. I know more than you do, and I don’t want to teach you to become something you’re not. I don’t want you to become me.”

“Okay. So here’s what you’re not.” Aaron grabbed her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “You’re not coercing me to do anything sexually. I made up my mind when you sat on my lap that I was going to make love to you, come hell or high water. When we made love the first time, it was my decision and I coerced you into doing it.”

And there was the L word, disguised by sex. She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Fuck, Aaron. We’ve fucked. Stick to the facts.”

“I’ve never fucked you. I fucked Celia because I didn’t care about anything more than how fast I’d come. I care about you, and that changes the definition. If you want to agree to disagree on the fucking vs. making love issue, then fine. But I know what I’m doing in that department.”

Yes, he did know, thanks to her. She closed her eyes and sank down in the seat, her knees on the glove compartment.

“And if I recall, I researched and planned most of the sex we’ve had, except the first time I went to the South Pole. So if we want to be really clear, then I’m the one corrupting you, right?” He shrugged and looked contemplative. “Maybe I should ask for my money back on the sex camp part, since you’re not teaching me anything.”

Was he for real? “Aaron—”

“Shut it, Char. I’m not done.” He kissed her hand again. “Spy camp. It’s just a fun name, and like I said, I would be paying someone to teach me this anyway. But I want the best, and that’s you. I know my brother. When I got my ass kicked on the playground, he came running. He doesn’t even give me a second glance when he’s off to work, because he knows you’ve got it covered. That means you’re damned good, and he trusts you. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Jake trusted her more than anyone in the field, even Tia. He also feared her, for good reason.

“So I’m going to go one step further with this and tell you that I realize what you do that is immoral or illegal is to save your life. You have a rental car, so if you’re hotwiring one, then you’re in danger. If you’re killing someone, it’s because a life is on the line, or because whoever you’re killing makes the people behind nine/eleven look like picnic planners. Am I right?”

“Yes.” It didn’t make her feel any better.

Aaron tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. “Then you need to just chill and have fun with this. Spy camp will make me more marketable, more realistic as an actor. It’s refreshing skills for you. And the sex just rocks.” He tugged her over so her head rested on his chest. “Feel better?”

She rubbed her face in his shirt and inhaled deeply. “No.”

“There’s nothing to feel guilty about. I’m a big boy, and I’ve been more than capable of getting myself into trouble since I ditched the diapers.” He kissed her forehead and held her close for a moment, so spicy and soothing, yet arousing. Damn him for smelling that way. “Want ice cream, Ma’am? I have my wallet this time. I’ll let you go for four.”

The naughty tone in his voice made her mind go immediately to four of something better he wanted to give her. She sat up and shifted in her seat to stop the ache in her core that had started during the blowjob. “Is that your solution for everything? Four?”

“My solution would be to toss you on your back, tickle you so you smile, and then make you come, but I’m hungry. I want more lunch and you can be dessert.” He buckled his seat belt and started the vehicle, then gave her a panty-melting smile. “Research says use of food makes for better sex. I have a bottle of chocolate sauce and a can of whipped cream in the fridge. I say we see if they’re right.”

She shook her head. Maybe he was right. She was just Pandora, opening the box of naughty that was Aaron. “You’re really not pure, are you?”

“Nope.” He grinned again before he pulled out into traffic. “You’re worrying for nothing.”

Maybe she was worrying for nothing about the sex part. Aaron was turning out to be a force to be reckoned with in bed. The spy stuff…she was worried, but Chase had commanded, so she was stuck.

However, she didn’t like his fucking vs. making love argument. Anything that had love in it had to be wrong for a spy and her actor lover. She’d remedy that. No more sex that included cuddling, kissing, skin on skin. He was bolder now and he could take a bit of kink. Something inside her whimpered at the punishment, thinking it wasn’t fair to punish them both. Too bad.

She was only here for a few more days, and she wasn’t taking a chance with lovemaking. Not when both her body and heart wanted it very, very badly.

Chapter Thirteen

Two days later, Aaron searched the house, feeling like a jackass for holding the TV remote like a gun as he systematically cleared each room and searched for wherever Charlotte was hiding. She was an intruder. He held the remote because she wouldn’t unload her gun and give it to him.

“It’s not a toy,” she had snapped when he had asked for her gun. “If you point
my
gun at me, you’re asking to die. If
I
point my gun at you, I’m committed to you dying.”

“But the remote? Fucking lame.”

“Just point it at me and press ‘off.’ You win.”

“I think I have a better chance of trapping pixies with a milk crate out back.”

She laughed, a sound so pleasing he’d almost forgotten he was holding the remote like a gun.

“If you win, I’ll let you choose the sexual position,” she tempted. She knew damned well he was desperate to be on top, to the point that he’d roam through his house holding the TV remote, knowing he could have a whole fridge of ice cubes smuggled into hell by now. He was never winning anything, not the fair way.

His phone went off, a text coming in.
On your knees, punk
.

Christ, she was hiding and texting him? She’d done that the other morning, too. Jake left, she had sent the same text. He read it, and she snapped her fingers, a look of feral desire in her eyes. He’d dropped like a stone to his knees and crawled to her on her command. The power had shifted the minute he stuck his tongue in her mouth, but she had slung herself so seductively over the back of the sofa, her ass and pussy on such sweet display he had no choice but to make magnificent love to her right there.

And from that point on, she’d kept him from being on top, had even gone so far as to limit their sex camp sessions to two times a day instead of all they wanted. Fuck that, two times.

He’d gotten wake-up sex this morning, Char showing him how to slip in from behind and gently bring her to orgasm, which was so far from the pounding the day before that he was touched by their gentle passion. Now she was offering reward sex, and it was only ten in the morning, which would be his two sex sessions. They had the whole evening ahead, and he could be working on getting four from her.

Spy camp and sex camp pissed him off. He’d never been hornier. It all fucking sucked, the running, the sex limits, the no lovemaking. The idea of her hiding, ready to jump out and kill him made him harder than rebar. All he wanted was to make fantastic, hard love to her, make her scream, and then he’d come. Simple needs for a simple man.

He smelled her an instant before she leaped on his back, wrapping her long legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. “Bang,” she whispered in his ear.

His balls tightened, and he fought the surge of orgasm from shooting up his dick. “Christ, I think I came a little.”

“That’s all it took? You’re not learning a thing about being in control.”

“I can’t help it. You excite me.” He hefted her up on to his hips better and piggybacked her out to the living room. “Where did you hide?”

“I went outside to the back porch, and then came back in.”

“Cheater.”

“You going to tell the bad guy he’s cheating, and that’s why he shouldn’t kill you? Learn to check the doors and windows as you clear a room.” She kicked his leg with her left foot and made him head around the couch. “And turn your phone off. You shouldn’t be getting texts while you’re working.”

“Yeah, that didn’t help, texting me. You know that makes me horny, too.” He sighed. “So where’s the failure sex taking place?” It was only reward sex if he passed. He thought it was very fair of her to offer sex despite his failed performance, though he had tried hard.

“Kitchen counter. Hurry, because I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny.”

He piggybacked her into the kitchen double time. She slid down, stepped out of her pants and panties, and then hopped up on the counter. “Fuck me, punk.”

He grabbed her by the back of the head and dragged her lips to his, frustrated but wanting nothing more than to be inside her pussy. Obviously, she wanted that, too, because he slipped a hand between her legs to find her folds slick, soaked. He slid his cock out of his pants, palmed the rigid shaft a couple of times, then leaned into her, wanting nothing more than to claim his prize.

“Condom,” she panted against his mouth.

“I want sex without it. You’re on birth control or something. I used a condom with Celia. This is a committed relationship. Give me one good reason why we can’t.”

“Christ on a motorbike,
committed
?” She turned his shoulders and smacked his bare ass. He was fighting a jolt of scary when her foot pressed against his other ass cheek and she shoved him away. “You’ll wear one so you remember to wear one in the future, because you forgot the first time. Find a condom, punk.”

“I’ll remember.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out the condom. He turned, rolled the condom on and stepped between her long legs. She moaned as he rubbed his cock along her folds, gathering her sweet juices.

“Fuck me,” she urged.

With a groan, he shoved home between her pale thighs, unable to stop the shudder of need as he claimed her. She sighed against him and grabbed his ass, sinking him deeper.

She kissed him and immediately melted from frosty hard candy to the gooey center, the power shifting. He kissed her harder, his tongue more demanding, testing to see if the shift was complete. She sighed, bent to his will, his to command.

Perfect, now he could get what he wanted. He struck up a rhythm with his hips that would drive her wild. “If I have to wear a condom, I think we should work on coming together. We almost had it the other day, against the wall, but you were a hair late. If we worked at it, we could have fucking amazing orgasms together.”

Her cheeks flushed bright red, rivaling her hair color. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was pounding fierce into her tight pussy. “You may
not
come at the same time as me.”

“Why not?” He knew why not. It smacked too close to the whole lovemaking thing. Lovemaking and coming together were not going to be allowed, but he’d use the threat of them to get what he really wanted. He yanked up her shirt and sucked a nipple through the gauzy bra he’d dreamed of her wearing. So hot.

“Aaron,” she choked out, more of a moan as her pussy tightened and quivered.

“Okay. If I can’t do those things, then let me work on your four orgasms tonight, after dinner.” He stilled just as she got ready to shatter. “Say yes, and I’ll let you come.”

She narrowed her violet eyes but couldn’t control biting her bottom lip for a moment as she struggled for control. “What if I don’t want after dinner sex?”

“Naughty girl, then you don’t need to come until tomorrow, during wake up sex.” He deepened his voice a bit. That depth seemed to spark submissiveness, and he wanted her eating out of his hand for this.

She growled, frustrated, and nails dug into his ass again. “Fuck me or you die.”

So hot. His balls strained, begging for release. “Kill me and you still won’t get an orgasm.”

“Please?” So pretty as she begged, her lips swollen from his kisses, gently parted as she panted.

“Say yes to sex camp sessions, three times a day instead of two.” He pumped a little, just enough to stir the wetness, amp up her desire. “And I want sex with no condom, me on top before you leave here.”

“Manipulative bastard. Fucking punk.” She wrapped her legs tighter, pulling him deeper. “Let me come, and I’ll give you blowjobs. Lots of them.”

“You know what I want, baby,” he whispered, slipping a hand between them to toy with her clit for three pulses of his thumb. He stopped just as her insides readied themselves to erupt. “Say yes. You won’t regret it.”

She growled and drummed her bare feet on his ass. “Damn you, yes.”

Victory tasted almost as sweet as her lips. His hips began the furious pace of in, out, in, grind so he hit her clit. “Come for me.”

Charlotte closed her eyes and let herself shatter around his cock, the waves of pleasure strong and sinful, almost as much as his lips sucking her neck. Damn him, he came at the same time, shooting the moon just as the first wave hit her dead on. But he was right, it was fucking amazing.

She gasped for breath. “I told you that you couldn’t come at the same time as me, punk.”

“Oops,” he breathed, grinning, kissing her, his hips stilling. He held her tight and sighed, one she felt through his entire body. “I’m never going to be able to make a sandwich here again without being horny. So many places we’ve christened.”

She pulled back and smoothed his hair from his damp face. So handsome, and though she’d never admit it, she loved the way he challenged her. “You’ll christen more with your girlfriend someday, Aaron.” She loved his name. Loved saying it and wished she didn’t have to be truthful right now. He needed it, though. “There won’t be a spot in this house that won’t remind you of sex.”

He clenched his jaw slightly. “I don’t want a girlfriend.”

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