Only the devil, p.20
Only the Devil, page 20
“Like I said, I always want you, but you’re on the verge of tears. And if I’m right about why, making love isn’t really going to make it better.”
Making love. Did he have to use those words? What a subliminal scold for my choice of words.
I twirl the golden chest hairs mixed with caramel brown scattered across his broad, muscular chest.
“This isn’t really what they’re paying you for, is it? Comforting me when I’m having some kind of breakdown.”
“Darlin’, I’ve seen breakdowns, and this isn’t one. But let’s see, where to start.” His chest vibrates beneath my fingers when he speaks, and I like the sensation, the warmth emanating from his body. “Whether it’s a breakdown or just a bad day—this is where I’d want to be, and not because anyone is paying me.”
His fingers glide back and forth across my arm, ever so slowly. Maybe that’s the difference between us. For him, intimacy is connection. For me, sex is escape. Love asks for honesty, and right now, that feels terrifying.
“You got that?”
“I suppose.”
“Hey.”
His gruff tone could mean many things, but he cups my jaw and shifts until I can’t avoid his gaze. “You got that?”
“You’re too good of a guy to do something solely for money. I got it.”
And yes, I sound like such a spoiled whiny bitch and, again, I hate it. I should just shut my mouth.
“I think I know what this is.” He shifts back on the sofa, a smug smile on his lips.
I don’t see how that’s possible, as I’m not clear at all why I’m so emotional. When is my period due? Maybe I’m getting hormonal.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ve always felt like the only real way to be happy is for your head and your heart to be in the same place.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Is he going on about us? About sex?
“You know why soldiers can endure hell and still feel good about themselves? Because their actions align with their beliefs. But when your head and heart are in different places...” He lets the implication hang. “You ever wondered how you could have two sides at war, and both sides feeling good about what they’re doing? Like to the point they’re willing to die for their side? You know how that happens? Each side believes in themselves, believes what they’re doing is right.” His fingers trace my arms. The light touch soothes.
“Like the Iranians…or Iraqis…or let’s go all the way back to the Nazis… I’m not talking about who’s right or wrong. I’m just saying that all those soldiers, they had conviction. Life’s pretty shitty when you’re at war, food rationed, sometimes cold, hot, tired, but the men are usually in a pretty good headspace because each day their actions mesh with what they feel they should do. Serving a larger purpose. There are studies on it.
“I’ve seen men who took jobs outside of the military for the paycheck and sometimes…depending on what they’re tasked with…they go to a pretty dark place. A paycheck is a paycheck, and there’s no doubt you gotta have it. But you gotta feel good about what you’re doing.”
“Well, yeah, especially if you’re killing people.”
“Even if you’re coding.”
My palm flattens across his chest. His heart thumps beneath his sternum, rock steady.
His story, his words, slowly weave their way through. He’s making a point about me, saying that I don’t believe in what I’m doing… But I’m writing code to track the markets. There’s no believing in that. He’s making a comparison that’s not warranted.
“Are you judging me?” How dare he? Not all of us are soldiers.
“Come on now,” he drawls, accentuating his accent. “You’re smarter than that.”
The tip of his finger taps against my temple.
“Do I look like someone who would judge somebody? I spent years as a male whore. More than that, when I served, I racked up a sizeable body count. Worse, if it were up to me, I’d still be serving and adding to it.”
If it were up to him?
“We haven’t talked about what’s going on between us. But maybe you need to hear it. I’m on your team. I’ve got your six.”
I push up on my elbow, shifting so I can see his face.
“Military lingo? You’re telling me you’ve got my back?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not the enemy. I’m the one in your corner. No need to attack me. I’m here for you.”
Attack him?
“I’m being bitchy, aren’t I?”
“A mite. But I get it. You’ve got a big heart and a big brain, and you’ve got to sort through it all.”
That big hand of his caresses my hip, and my butt, and I relax against him, resting my head back down on his big bear chest, willing all the emotions bubbling up to go away.
The side of my ear presses against him, and I allow myself to focus on the rhythmic thuds, alleviating my cluttered mind. No words. I close my eyelids, lost in the absence of light, of place.
Thud thud. Thud thud.
His heartbeat anchors me to this moment, to this truth I’ve been avoiding. I know exactly why I feel like shit. I know exactly what’s eating at me from the inside. I’m becoming everything I’ve always hated. And worse yet—I’m good at it.
CHAPTER 26
JAKE
“I’m a mess.”
She’s not a mess at all. She’s brilliant. Sexy. Delicious. “If so, you’re the hottest mess I’ve ever seen.”
She sniffles, and I feel her smile.
Good. She’s gotta work through this.
“A hot mess isn’t the compliment you think it is.”
“Baby, all I’ve got for you is compliments.”
“Why? I can’t hold a job.”
“Who says? You’ve got two.”
“I’ve been through like fifteen.”
“There are a lot of boss-holes out there. You’re too strong-willed to put up with someone who doesn’t value your potential. You deserve more.”
“I forgot about Uncle Alvin’s gravestone. Who does that?”
“Someone who immediately sensed something wasn’t right about her loved one’s death, so she leaped in to investigate.”
She’s quiet against my chest, and I can feel some of the tension leaving her body. Her breathing evens out, and I know she’s letting herself accept my words.
“Anything I say—you’re going to try to make me feel better, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?” I ask, running my hand through her hair. I feel her smile against my skin before her lips press against my chest. Her thumb finds my nipple, pressing in like she’s grounding herself in the physical connection between us.
“You’re too good to know.”
“Ha,” I bark out. What a ludicrous statement.
“Seriously,” she insists.
“You got any idea what a mercenary is?”
“But you’re working for the good guys.”
“They’re better than the devil, I suppose. It’s a good team. Good people. They’re not angels. Definitely not too good to know.”
“Why were you forced to leave the military?”
This isn’t something I wish to get into, but she rolls onto me, her soft, warm body covering half of mine, and those deep, syrupy brown eyes telling me I’m not getting away without answering.
“Medical.”
Her eyes narrow, disbelieving. “You’re in fantastic health. I’ve never been with a guy in as good a shape as you.”
“Really?” Well, now, that’s almost better than a woman saying my dick’s the biggest she’s ever had.
And as if our mental wavelengths are connecting, she palms my erection.
“I thought you were talking about my muscles,” I growl, teasing.
“Isn’t this a muscle, too?”
“I think he’s more vascular.”
She grins, but what I want her to do is push my briefs down. Unfortunately, her hand advances in the wrong direction.
“What’s wrong? Tell me.”
There’s concern in her voice, and I’ll have none of that. “Heart. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“The military saw it differently?”
Yeah—smells like bullshit. “It’s rare. Something that may have been there for a while, just the tests didn’t pick it up before. And then when they did…I could’ve taken a desk post but, nah, I worked too hard to make the teams. It was my…”
I stop myself and meet her understanding gaze head on. Yeah, it was my life, but my life continued.
“And this KOAN group? They took you, no questions asked?”
“Recruited me, actually.”
“Do they know about your heart condition?”
“Yeah, but I won’t be doing the shit I’d do on the teams. And it’s a freak oddity. Chances are it’ll never give me any trouble. Nothing to worry about—it’s just, on the teams, there’s no room for risks.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I wonder if she’s thinking about what that means—how it must have felt to lose the career that defined me. Then she presses her lips to the center of my sternum, right over my heart, and the gesture is so tender it nearly undoes me. The warmth spreads through my rib cage, and I realize it’s not just physical. She’s not looking at me like I’m broken or less than. She’s looking at me like I’m the man she wants.
Ah, yeah, I’m falling for this one.
“Do you sometimes have trouble sleeping? Because of, you know, what you did? The body count?”
“Sleep like a baby. Makes me sound like a monster, right? But, like I said, I believe in the mission. I’ve known guys who really struggled with PTSD, but this old noggin had no issue. Sleep sound. At least, until—”
“Until you left the army?”
“Navy,” I’m quick to correct her—again. “But yeah. Now I lie awake at night worrying I’m going to take a check from the wrong guy. It’s easy when it’s your country. When it’s a small outfit calling the shots, bosses you don’t even know…” I let my words drift, and wonder if that whip-smart brain of hers is going to connect the dots. We’re a lot alike, Daisy and me.
“So if KOAN wasn’t out there as an option, you wouldn’t choose to work for Sterling?”
“Nah. That guy’s an asshole.”
“Do you think he’s a murderer?” She’s tentative. Probably back to questioning her choices.
“I’m not sure if he had someone kill Jocelyn. And I use the phrase ‘had someone’ because let’s be real…that stiff’s probably never cleaned his own toilet. He doesn’t have the mettle to kill a woman with his bare hands. But do I think he’s broken the law? Sure. Do I think he’d hire someone to kill someone else to keep his ass from landing in prison? Absolutely. Suits like that don’t treasure the idea of pissing in a stainless steel can and taking it up the ass by strong, horny men when they get cornered in the shower.”
She’s quiet for a moment, probably processing that image. Then she sinks her teeth into my chest and grins.
“What’s that for?” She didn’t hurt me, but still. The tension in the room has shifted—from the dark reality of Sterling to something lighter between us.
“You’re making me want to laugh when we’re talking about something serious.”
She shifts against me, and I can feel her trying to shake off the heaviness of our conversation. I haul her on top of me, wanting to help her forget about Sterling for a while.
“Sometimes you need to laugh, especially when things get dark.”
“I’m fairly certain Jocelyn uncovered something. But that’s okay. I feel lighter. You want to know why?”
“Why?”
She slides down, right over my erection, and Jesus, that feels good.
“Because we’re going to catch him. We’re going to find something he’s done and stop him from targeting another group of vets or retirees for his harebrained schemes. I’m going to figure out what Jocelyn uncovered. And you know what else?”
“What?”
Her hips rock over me. “I’m about to do very fun things with this horny, healthy man.”
“You want to try something new?” My fingers probe her backside, exploring to underscore the question.
I’m teasing. But with my hands on her fine ass, it’s a natural thought as I maneuver her over me. Fuck, she feels so damn good.
“If you want.”
Whoa.
The game just changed. “Really?”
She lifts up, eyes widening. “Do you want that?”
I tug on the hem of her shirt, and she understands, lifting it off, revealing those perky tits that I love. Then I pull her down to my chest, insisting on a long, slow, heated kiss.
She pushes up on me, breaking my hold, her lips inches from mine, and breathes out, “Is that what you want? Anal?”
“Hmm. Maybe one day. It can be fun.”
“You’ve done it?”
“Baby. Remember that bit when I said I’m a man whore? There’s not much I haven’t done.”
“But you like…” The insecurity on her gorgeous babydoll face slices like a knife. “With me? What we do?”
“I like us, Daisy. I like you. What we do is exactly what I want.” In a flash I roll her, so I’m over her, caging her in. “I love everything we do. The past…” I shake my head, searching for the words, “Water under the bridge. Long gone. When I’m with you? These evenings? Like this? The casual way we are with each other?” I dip my head and swirl my tongue around her nipple. “It’s the best. When I’m deep inside you?”
Her breath catches and her lips open slightly.
“The absolute best. You know why that is?” Her fingers tug on my hair, her nails scratch my skin, and those dark, deep brown eyes probe. My heart contracts with our connection. “Because I’m falling for you, Daisy.”
The words hang in the air between us. Her eyes search mine, and I can see her walls trying to go up; that instinct to protect herself warring with what she feels.
“Jake…” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Hey.” I brush her hair back from her face. “I’m not asking you to say it back. I just needed you to know.”
Hearts are fragile things, and I sense she’s carried around scars for quite a while. I can be patient, let her open up as she learns to trust.
She’s quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing patterns on my shoulder. Then she pulls me down, her mouth finding mine with a desperation that tells me everything I need to know, even if she can’t say the words yet. Her thighs lift, locking her legs around my waist.
With a groan, I break the kiss, wanting her, but needing to make sure she understands. “Be careful what you say about yourself, because this woman here, she’s the woman I love, and I’m going to be protective of the woman I love.”
Her eyes glisten, and that’s how I know she heard me.
Our clothes come off in waves, between kisses, bites, and moans.
Would I prefer that she say it back? Of course. But she shows me in her own way.
Her guard’s always up, wary of letting people close. Funny thing is…that wall of hers makes me want to protect her from anything and everyone, foes real and imaginary.
She takes me in her mouth, hair mussed, looking up at me, those dark eyes searing me. My breath hitches. My groin tightens, and I close my eyes, tilting my head back on the sofa cushion, reveling in the feel of her hot mouth combined with her tight grip on my base.
My fingers thread her silky strands, guiding her, bringing me oh so close. Too close. I tug on her hair, letting her know I’ve got plans and they don’t involve ending things right about now. The stubborn thing dives down until I hit the back of her throat, and fuck, if that doesn’t feel amazing.
“If this is your way of telling me you love me, I’ll take it.”
She chokes on my dick, snorting through her laughter.
I take the opportunity to reposition us, placing her on her back, and settling down over her.
“Hey,” she says, smiling up at me. Yeah, she hasn’t said it, but that’s love in her eyes. I feel it.
“Did you know, when I suck your nipples,” I flick one for good measure, “they go darker? A tawny rose.” I bend and suck and pause to examine my handiwork. “To a deeper rose.”
“Tawny? Who taught you that word?”
My mom taught me that word, but instead of answering, I kiss and suck my way down her smooth belly. She lifts my hair, tugging on the recently trimmed strands, in anticipation. Because yeah, this isn’t our first time. And yeah, she knows what I’m planning on doing, where I’m planning on taking her.
I love how she tastes. How she writhes beneath my touch. How her thighs squeeze me then release, how her back arches, urging me on, begging my fingers to work harder, how she loves what my tongue and the occasional scrape of my teeth do to her, and mostly, I love how she loses control.
When she quivers around my fingers, I withdraw and position myself at her entrance. Her eyelids flick open, and I slide my tip through her juices.
“Please.” Her words are so soft I barely hear her.
“What’s that baby?”
“I want you.”
We both watch as my tip moves along the edge of her channel, back and forth. The movement…it’s so fucking hot. When I finally sink into her hot heat, and her channel grips me, I swear I can feel the tremors of her remnant orgasm. Her nails drag across my back until she palms my ass, pulling on me, urging me deeper, and I give in.
I’m in all the way. And I don’t ever want it any other way.
“Is this what you want, baby?”
“Yes,” she breathes out.
There are no words for how we move together, in sync, roaming hands, mouths, lips as our bodies move as one…there’s really only one name for it—making love.
When her body arches and she grips me like a vice, that’s all for me, and the orgasm that rips through me is ecstasy. I collapse beside her, and she rolls into me, our legs tangled as our breathing evens out. She brushes my hair back off my forehead and with a wrinkled nose she says, “You get sweaty.”
