Read Never Say Spy Online

Authors: Diane Henders

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Espionage, #Mystery & Detective, #Hard-Boiled, #Women Sleuths, #Suspense & Thrillers

Never Say Spy (31 page)

BOOK: Never Say Spy
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“Ya know how ya can pay me back, darlin’,” he growled, his voice hitting that low note that vibrated through my body.

I shivered, all the heat and desire rushing back in an instant.

Goddammit, you only live once.  And I’d come damn close to not living through this at all.  My heart sucker-punched my ribs before launching itself up to beat a hasty tattoo in my throat.

“Yes.”  My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, and I pulled away to sink my face into my hands.  “God help me.  Yes.”

Silence.

“Aydan, I was just jokin’ around.  Ya don’t owe me a thing.  An’ I don’t want anythin’ ya don’t wanna give.”

I sighed and raised my head.  He was frowning at me.

“What kind of an asshole d’ya think I am?” he asked.

I took his hand, stroking his lean, strong fingers.  “I don’t think you’re an asshole.  I know you were only joking around.  But you got me wrong.  I didn’t mean ‘God help me, I don’t want to do this but I have to’.  I meant ‘God help me, I want this so much and it’s probably a really bad idea’.”

I met his eyes, willing him to understand.  “Arnie, I really want you tonight.  But I’m so fucked up I should come with a warning label.  The smartest thing you could do is take me home, kick me out of your truck, and drive away as fast as you can.”

He grinned.  “I never did the smart thing before, so why start now?”  His smile faded, his brows coming together.  “Ya kinda surprised me, darlin’.  I got a few warnin’ labels a’ my own, so if you’re serious, we gotta talk.”

I gave him a faint smile.  “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

He chuckled.  “Let’s get the warnin’ labels outta the way first an’ see how it goes.”

“I was talking about the warning labels,” I said with dignity.

“Come on,” he said.  “I gotta go home an’ feed the cat anyway, an’ there’s beer at my place.”  When I eyed him uncertainly, he added, “No hard feelin’s, no strings attached.  Whichever way it plays out.”

We left the restaurant holding hands.

Chapter 44
            
 
 

At Hellhound’s apartment, Hooker greeted us with purrs and hoarse meows, winding around our ankles until his dish was filled.  Reaching into the fridge, Arnie pulled out a couple of bottles and handed me one.  “Sorry, no Corona.”

I shrugged.  “Beer is beer.”

We went into the living room, and he sat in his chair while I curled my feet under me on the couch across from him.  We drank a few swallows of beer in silence and assessed each other awkwardly.

Hellhound cleared his throat.  “Aydan, I like ya a lot, so I’m gonna be straight with ya.  If you’re lookin’ for a little romp an’ a few laughs, I’m your man.  But if you’re the type to get attached, you’re gonna get hurt.  ‘Cause I don’t do attached.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding.  “Thank God.  You took the words right out of my mouth.  I’ve done attached.  I don’t want to do it again.”

His face brightened.  “It’s not that simple, though,” I warned him.  “I don’t have any gifts that keep on giving, and I don’t want any.  Is there anything you need to tell me?”

He laughed.  “That was gonna be my next question for ya.  I got a clean bill a’ health, too, darlin’.  I done a lotta dumb things in my time, but bein’ dumb about protection ain’t one of ‘em.”

I relaxed.  “One more thing then.  I’m not offering you any kind of commitment, and I don’t want it from you, either.  Strictly casual.  No expectations, no strings attached.”

“Darlin’, we’re on the same page.  No possessive, needy bullshit.  No lies.”

“Deal, as long as you promise not to lie to me, either.”

He nodded, and we smiled at each other in the short silence.

“Any other warning labels?” I asked.

He shook his head, his smile becoming more intimate.  I dropped my gaze to concentrate on my beer bottle while I picked at the label.  “I have one really, really big warning label left.”  I met his eyes, making sure he was listening.

He sobered.  “What is it?”

I paused, fumbling for words.  This was harder than I thought it would be.

“My husband…” I began.

“You’re married?”  He leaned back in his chair, frowning.

“Let me finish.  My husband died two years ago.”

“Oh.  Sorry, darlin’.”

I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees.  “It was a heart attack.  He was only forty-eight.  Your age.”

I paused again, staring at the carpet.  I took a deep breath.  “He had a massive heart attack while we were having sex.  He died in my arms.  Fair warning.  I wasn’t joking when I made that crack about you having a heart attack if I took you to bed.  The last man to get on this ride didn’t get off alive.”

The couch dipped as Hellhound sat beside me, and his arm closed around my shoulders.  “Darlin’, when it’s your time to go, it’s your time.  That hadta be tough.  But my heart’s just fine.  Nothin’ to worry about.”  He stroked my hair, then tilted my chin up to study me.  “So, what d’ya say?”

I smiled up into his ugly face and gentle eyes.  “Yes.”

He ran his fingers slowly through my hair and kissed me softly.  “I been wantin’ to do that for days,” he breathed.

I kissed him back harder.  Our kisses heated up, hands beginning to explore.  His fingertips traced the curve of my breast as his tongue brushed my lips.  Lightning shot through my body and started a three-alarm fire in the underbrush.  I sucked in a breath of pure hot lust and pulled him closer.

I felt his smile against my lips.  “I’m a little too old to be makin’ out on a couch, darlin’.  Let’s adjourn to my office.”  He stood, raising me with him, and we exchanged a few more blazing kisses on the way to the bedroom.

Inside, he swung the door shut with his foot.  “No need to corrupt the cat.”

I giggled.  “Or risk him taking a swing at the dangly bits.”

I linked my arms around his neck and he kissed me slowly, sliding his hands under my T-shirt.  When he lifted it over my head, I arched my back to press against him.  My breath caught when I made contact with the hard bulge in his jeans and a shiver of hunger shook me.

His hands slid down to cup my ass and pull me closer while he kissed my throat.  I couldn’t hold back a moan when the kisses trailed down to my cleavage, his whiskers an erotically rough counterpoint to the smooth heat of his lips.

He paused, his breathing almost as unsteady as mine.  “I don’t wanna hurt ya.  You’re so beat up.”  His fingertips glided over my black and blue stomach.

I giggled and pulled away.  “Don’t, I’m ticklish.”

He gave me a slow smile.  “I got a cure for that.”  He reached over and undid my jeans, sliding them slowly down my legs.  “Darlin’, ya shouldn’t hide a body like that under clothes,” he said hoarsely as I stepped out of them.

“Then you’d better hurry and get them off me.”

He pulled me close and kissed me deeply as he backed me further into the room.

My God, the man knew how to kiss.  If I’d actually needed any convincing, those lips and that tongue would have been more than enough to do it.  My knees went liquid with anticipation, my breath coming faster while his strong musician’s hands slid over my body.

When we reached the bed, he lowered me to it, still giving me those magical kisses until I lay on my back, smiling up at him.

He straightened, his gaze fixed on me.  When he peeled off his T-shirt, I moved my hips in sensuous invitation and parted my legs, and his eyes blazed hotter.  He dropped his jeans at the foot of the bed and knelt between my feet, his hand skimming lightly from my ankle to my thigh.

And I froze at a horrid glimpse of Sandler at my feet, his loathsome touch slithering up my leg.

Hellhound hesitated, then stretched out on the bed beside me without touching me again.  He propped himself on one elbow and scrutinized me, looking puzzled and uncertain.  I quickly shook off the bad memory and reached to pull him to me.

He refused to be pulled.  “Aydan, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”  I scooted closer to make contact between our bodies and reached to fondle him, but he caught my hand and held it.

“If ya don’t wanna do this, just say so.”

I moaned frustration.  “I want this.  I want you.  Now.  Please.”

He frowned.  “Then tell me what I’m doin’ wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong.  Don’t stop.”

“Bullshit.”  He shook his head, confusion turning to hurt in his eyes.  “Ya went stiff as a board.  D’ya think I wouldn’t notice?  I thought we promised no lies.”

I debated arguing further, but I could tell from the stubborn set of his jaw that he wouldn’t buy it.  And the way his expression was closing down, I was pretty sure if I didn’t come up with a plausible story, I’d be spending another frustrated night flying solo.

Goddammit!

I sighed and gave up hope for easy, uncomplicated sex.  “I… Like I told you earlier, I’m a little messed up right now.”  I searched for words.  “I was just… dealing with some shit from yesterday.  That’s all.  Nothing to do with you.”

The wheels turned behind his shrewd eyes as his brow furrowed.  His face darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice was like flint.  “That fuckin’ asshole Sandler.  He tried to rape ya yesterday.”

Shock convulsed my body.  “What?”

His expression hardened.  “Tried?  Or succeeded?”

“Tried,” I said dazedly.  “What… how…?”

“Aw, darlin’,” he rasped.  He cuddled me close and stroked my hair.  “It ain’t rocket science.  Ya already told me, I just didn’t get it right away.”

“What?  I didn’t…”

“Ya said, ‘if that asshole Sandler was still alive, I’d shoot the fucker to ribbons all over again, startin’ with his big fuckin’ ugly dick’,” he quoted my own words back to me verbatim.  “Ya were in rough shape when I found ya yesterday.  An’ the way ya tensed up when I touched ya just now, it ain’t hard to figure out.”

I pulled away, gaping at him.  “That’s the last time I mouth off to you.  I keep forgetting you’re a P.I.  Do you have a photographic memory or something?”

He raised his eyebrows, his expression wry.  “That’s why I’m good at what I do, darlin’.  Nobody expects a dumb, ugly biker to be payin’ attention.”

I gathered my scattered wits.  “I certainly never thought you were dumb.”  Which was true.  But I hadn’t recognized exactly how smart he was, either.  Chalk one up for the dumb biker disguise.

Suddenly realizing what I’d not said, I added, “And there’s nothing wrong with the way you look.  It works for you.”

He chuckled.  “No need to be tactful, darlin’, I look in the mirror every mornin’.  That’s why I was surprised when ya said ya wanted me.”

I poked him in the ribs.  “As if.  I bet you’ve got the ladies falling all over you.  All you have to do is pick up your guitar and sing them a song, and down they go.”

He gave me sly grin.  “That might’ve happened once or twice.”  He sobered.  “But…  Are ya okay?  That asshole Sandler…”

I hesitated.  “Arnie, I shouldn’t have said anything about Sandler to you.  I shouldn’t have even said the name.  I was… out of control.  Not thinking straight.  Would you do me a big favour and forget you heard that?”

“Darlin’, it’s already forgotten.  But are they still investigatin’?   What-”

“I’m fine,” I interrupted.  “And there won’t be an investigation.  His official cause of death will be a heart attack.”

Arnie drew back slowly.  “They’re coverin’ it up?”

“No.  It’s not a cover-up.  Kane and the team know the truth, but there’s nothing to investigate.  Nothing to prosecute.  He’s dead.”

“It’s pretty fuckin’ hard to convince the medical examiner a guy died of a heart attack when he’s full a’ bullet holes.”

“NDA.  I can’t explain.  I’m sorry.  I just need you to forget it.”

He scowled.  “Okay,” he agreed slowly.  “Long’s he’s dead.  ‘Cause otherwise I’d hafta hunt the fucker down myself.”

I shuddered at his expression.  “Can we please not talk about this?  It’s kind of spoiling the mood.”

His face softened and he stroked the hair back from my face to brush gentle lips across my forehead.  “Maybe ya should forget about bein’ in the mood tonight.  Ya might wanna give yourself some time.”

I slid my arms around him.  “I don’t want time.  I want you.  Now.  I want you to make dirty jokes and laugh and kiss me and touch me and fuck my brains out.  That’s why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place.  Now you’re all serious and I’m not getting laid,” I joked, trying to make him smile.

He searched my face, his expression troubled.  “Arnie...” I pleaded.  “It’s fine.  Everything’s fine.  Let it go.  Please.”

I kissed him and trailed my lips around to nibble his ear.  “Please, can we finish getting naked now?”

He drew back to study me, smiling, but his eyes were serious.  “Ya sure that’s what ya really want?”

I dragged him over on top of me.  “I want it so much, you have no idea.  I haven’t had sex in two years.  If you don’t start giving me some action soon, I won’t be held responsible for the consequences.”

Arnie chuckled.  “Sounds dangerous, darlin’.  Lucky I’m a brave man.”

He kissed me slowly, and I reached for him with demanding hands.  He pulled away, teasing.  “Slow down, darlin’, we got all night.  Don’t rush a good thing.”

“Rush?  It’s been two damn years!” I panted.

“Lemme take a coupla seconds to enjoy the view.”

His hands drifted across my thighs with feather-light touches that chased hot shivers over my skin, making me moan with sheer need.

He grinned, his eyes devouring me.  “I wanna see how hot ya look in my bed, with your gorgeous hair spread out on my pillow an’ your long legs open for me.  ‘Cause ya know I’m gonna remember it.”

He propped himself above me on one elbow and leaned down to kiss me again, his magic tongue seducing mine with sensual promises.

“I’m gonna find out how to make ya come your brains out, seven times,” he murmured against my lips.  “Or more.”  He kissed me again, harder and deeper, sending electricity sizzling through me.

“I’m gonna chase those bad memories away,” he whispered as he unfastened my bra with a deft hand.

“An’ by mornin’…”  He made the bra disappear.

“…the only thing you’re gonna remember…”

His lips moved lower.  “…is me,” he rumbled against my breast.

Thought evaporated while he explored the new territory lingeringly before working his way down my body, hands and lips and tongue and whiskers combining in mind-melting harmony.  By the time he hooked his fingers under the sides of my panties and eased them off, I could barely breathe.

He ran a strong hand down my leg and lifted it over his shoulder to trail spine-tingling whiskers up the inside of my thigh.

Moments later, he began to deliver everything his kisses had promised, and more.

Two years of deprivation washed away in the torrent of exquisite sensation, and I gave myself up to it, almost weeping with gratitude.  Rising moans escaped me while the sweet pressure built.

BOOK: Never Say Spy
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