After Con Man

  I chuckled.

  “Besides,” Benita continued, “Karis never would've forgiven me if something happened to you, and I really don't feel like having to train another partner.”

  I glanced at Karis, who rolled her eyes.

  “Don't let him fool you,” Karis said. “I'm pretty sure he punched that idiot because of what he called you.”

  Benita looked at me, and I shrugged. “It didn't help his case.”

  “Aw, Bron, how sweet.” She grinned as I flipped her off, then returned the gesture.

  “Nice to see we're all taking things seriously.”

  I fixed my most polite expression on my face as I turned toward Agent Colman Gau. He was Karis and Benita's immediate superior, and a total asshat. The fact that he couldn't stand me, I knew, was a combination of his belief that he didn't think criminals could change, and a severe dislike of my relationship with Karis.

  Well, that and the fact that I'd punched him when he'd gone too far with his sexually-laced comments and wandering hands.

  That might've been it altogether, actually, but I was fine with it. He'd deserved a lot more than a single punch for how he'd been running his mouth.

  “Did we get what we needed?” Colman asked Benita. He made a point of not looking at Karis. He'd done that a lot since I'd hit him. He may have been an FBI agent, but he knew there were plenty of people who'd back up any sexual harassment claim made against him, so he hadn't filed charges against me.

  “Better,” Benita said and nudged Finley with her foot. “We have a recording of this guy holding a gun on Bron, and I'm betting the other two will be ready to make a deal for what they know about Finley.”

  Colman turned toward me, and I fought to keep my face blank. Technically, this was my last case with the FBI, but I knew if Colman wanted to make trouble for me, he could. All he had to do was say that I'd screwed something up, and I'd either be back in prison, or under another probationary period where I had to consult with the FBI for barely livable wages.

  He held out an envelope. After a momentary hesitation, I took it.

  “Sir?” Karis stepped up next to my side.

  “Your copy of your release papers, Du Murier,” he said. “Signed, dated, and witnessed. I filed my copy and sent the original to the DA. You have to do some exit paperwork, but you're officially finished with the FBI.”

  Myriad emotions flooded through me all at once. Relief that I'd actually done it, that I'd survived. Apprehension at what came next. Joy that I could finally put all of this behind me and move on with my life.

  But above all of that was a need so deep and profound that I hadn't wanted to fully acknowledge it until this moment because it would've overwhelmed me before.

  I turned toward Karis, slid my hand around the back of her neck, and bent my head to kiss her. She stiffened in surprise, then relaxed into me. Her hands pressed against my chest, fingers curling into my shirt to pull me closer. I made it slow and deep and thorough, completely and unashamedly staking my claim.

  For the most part, it was basic knowledge that Karis and I were together, but no one talked about it, and we certainly didn't make physical contact at work. But now I wasn't working for the FBI, and I intended to make sure that no one doubted that she was mine.

  It wasn't until I heard Benita give a discreet cough that I finally pulled back. Karis's face was flushed, and I knew her pulse was beating as rapidly as mine. Probably not the most professional thing I'd ever done, but I'd been wanting to do it all year.

  Colman glared at me for a few seconds, then turned away, barking over his shoulder, “I want the paperwork on my desk before anyone leaves tonight!”

  The moment the door closed behind me, Karis was in my arms. We'd gone back to the agency where I'd done my side of the necessary paperwork to be released from my duties, and Karis had written up her official report of the sting. I didn't really remember much of what I wrote, but I must've done it right because I wasn't asked to redo anything. That was good because, by the time we got home, my self-control was almost gone. If I'd had to wait any longer at the agency, I might've said to hell with it and taken her right then and there.

  Now that we were home, we pushed and pulled and tore at our clothes, our movements frantic as we worked our way over to the couch. We'd eventually make it to the bedroom, but I didn't even want to wait that long. I needed to be inside her. As a free man.

  Her teeth scraped across my bottom lip as my legs bumped against the side of the couch. I yanked her hair out of its confines, burying my hand in her thick curls. My other hand went between us, cupping one firm breast, feeling her nipple harden against my palm.

  “I love you.” I spoke the words against her lips before kissing my way down to her breast. I kept a grip on her hair, holding her in place as my mouth closed around the soft flesh. She whimpered as I flicked my tongue against her nipple.

  “Need you.” Her fingers dug into my shoulders. “Please, Bron.”

  Usually, I enjoyed hearing her beg, enjoyed drawing out the anticipation, but, this time, her plea undid me.

  I spun her around and pressed my hand between her shoulder-blades. She bent over, steadying herself with her hands on the arm of the couch. Her pants were already twisted around her thighs, and I used my foot to push them lower. She wouldn't be able to widen her stance, but that was okay. This was going to be quick.

  I pushed down my own pants and underwear, then wrapped my arm around her waist. My fingers slipped beneath her panties, over the thin curls, then between her slick, wet folds. She gasped as I found her clit, then moaned when she felt the head of my cock pressing against her through the damp fabric.

  “We're going to do this fast,” I said directly into her ear as I pulled aside the crotch of her panties. “Then I'm going to take you to bed and take my time with you.”

  She nodded. “Do it. Fuck me.”

  Damn, I loved hearing her say that, knowing that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her.

  I pushed inside, one steady thrust that left me buried deep inside her pussy as her body trembled around me. I squeezed my eyes closed and took a slow breath. Being inside her always felt like coming home. I reached for her hair again, wrapping it around my hand to give myself leverage as I began to move. Short, fast thrusts that drove the most delicious little sounds from her lips. My fingers worked over her clit until she began to squirm in my arms.

  She was close.

  I leaned over her, pressed my lips against her spine. “Come for me, baby. I won’t last much longer.”

  Her head started to fall forward, but I gave a tug on her hair, pulling her up until her back was against my chest.

  “Play with your tits,” I ordered.

  Her hands moved to her breasts, fingers teasing and twisting her nipples even as I thrust up into her. I could feel her muscles tensing even as the pleasure coiling in my stomach told me I was just as ready.

  I put my lips against the place where her neck and shoulder met. As I sucked the skin into my mouth, I pressed my fingers against her clit. A shudder ran through her, and as I slammed into her one last time, she came. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her against me as we rode our pleasure together.

  “This is just the beginning,” I promised as I emptied myself inside her. “Just the beginning.”

  Chapter Three

  Karis

  My body was limp and pleasantly sore. Bron and I had made love well into the early hours of the morning, dozing at times, until we finally fell asleep in each other's arms. There had been other times we'd spent hours having sex, other passionate Friday nights, but last night had been different. This morning was different.

  It was different this time because he was completely free. Granted, there were still the obvious conditions of his probation like not associating with criminals and that kind of thing, but he wasn't required to report to the FBI, to help with cases, and go into dangerous situations. He could choose what he wanted to do next.

  We hadn'
t let ourselves talk about plans for the future, and I knew it was because we were both still afraid that what we had was too good to be true. We worried that something would happen to tear us apart again. That Colman would give a false report and land Bron back in jail. That a case would go wrong – like it almost had – and one of us would be hurt or killed. Even though the threat of Uaine hadn't hung over us for the past year, I'd still felt like I was holding my breath.

  Then, yesterday, when we'd walked out of the office with Bron's paperwork complete, his sentence done, I'd been able to breathe again.

  I rolled over as I came back to consciousness, my hand automatically reaching out for the man who'd been sleeping next to me almost every night for a year. I felt only cool sheets and frowned. Bron was rarely up before me, and when he was, it was usually because he couldn't sleep. They weren't frequent, but every so often, he still had nightmares about his past. An intense round of sex usually negated that problem, but apparently it hadn't done the trick.

  I sat up and made my way to the bathroom. It was late enough in the morning that the sun was up, so the apartment had enough dim, gray lighting for me to see. By the time I came back out, my brain had woken up enough to realize that I couldn't hear Bron moving around out in the main area. Couldn't smell coffee or breakfast, both of which he usually took care of when he got up first.

  My stomach twisted as a ripple of fear went through me. Something wasn't right. All of the peace I'd felt when I'd woken up vanished.

  I hurried back into my bedroom and got dressed, pulling on the first pair of jeans and sweatshirt I laid my hands on. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I yanked open one of Bron's drawers. His clothes were still there. Some relief tempered the anxiety that I was feeling, but it didn't really touch the fear.

  I quickly glanced in the closet and saw that it was full too. The FBI had paid Bron to be a consultant since he wasn't able to work any other job, but they'd barely paid him enough for the basics, which meant if he was going to leave, he would've taken whatever he could, including his clothes.

  But he wouldn't have run. Not now when we'd just gotten everything we wanted. He wouldn't leave me. Not again.

  Unless he had no other choice.

  My pulse spiked as I practically ran into the living room. It was empty.

  I checked the fridge, the table, the couch. Went back to the bedroom and looked on the dresser, the bed, the nightstands on either side of the bed.

  Nothing.

  No note.

  That’s when I realized what else was missing.

  Bron's coat and boots.

  Which meant he'd left the building. My car keys were still in their usual place next to the door, so he hadn't driven, but now that he didn't have to check in consistently, he could've gone anywhere.

  Like down the street to the diner to get us some of their mouth-watering cinnamon buns.

  I tried telling myself that was where he'd gone, that he'd wanted to further celebrate his freedom by slipping out to get us something special for breakfast.

  It worked enough for me to calmly retrieve my phone and pull up his number instead of running downstairs to see if I could find him. Still, I couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach as I watched the call ring through.

  And ring.

  And ring.

  When it went to voicemail, I hung up and called again.

  Same thing.

  This time, however, I left a voicemail. “Bron, hey, just got up and saw you weren't here. If you're at the diner, make sure you get extra icing for the cinnamon buns.” I paused, steadied my voice, and continued, “If not, please give me a call and let me know how long you'll be, and if I should wait breakfast for you. Love you.”

  I closed my eyes as I ended the call, second guessing every word I'd said. Should I have tried harder to make it clear that I didn't think he was taking off on me? That I trusted him completely? Had it been a bad idea to end with those two words? I didn't want them to sound flippant. I meant them. But maybe I shouldn't have said them. Maybe they made my message sound like I was checking up on him and reminding him that I loved him so he didn't do anything stupid.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  I couldn't keep thinking about this, running over all of the possibilities, going through all of the worst-case scenarios. I was going to drive myself crazy if I didn't stop, and I knew the best way to do that was to stay busy.

  So I made myself some breakfast, nearly burning my eggs because I kept staring at my cell phone. Then I only ended up eating a couple mouthfuls of it before I scraped it all into a container and shoved it into the fridge. I wasn't hungry.

  But I had to do something, so I pulled my hair into a sloppy ponytail and began to clean.

  Ninety minutes later, my tiny apartment was immaculate, I was getting out of the shower, and Bron still hadn't called me back. I made myself wait another half hour, and when there was still no response, I made another call.

  “Karis, I'm surprised to hear from you.” I could hear Benita's three kids in the background. “I thought for sure you and Bron wouldn't be coming up for air the rest of the weekend.”

  “He's gone.”

  Several seconds of silence ticked by as I waited for Benita to tell me what we should do next. “Have you tried calling him?”

  I bit back a smart-aleck retort. “Yes, and I texted him, but he hasn't answered me.”

  “I'm sure he's just busy. It's not like he took any of his stuff with him, right?”

  My eyes narrowed even though she couldn't see me. I'd known Benita for years, worked with her. And I knew she was hiding something.

  “Benita, what do you know?”

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  I heard a chorus of disapproval and laughter from her kids at the curse. Normally, that would've made me laugh, but all of the negative feelings I had toward Bron were churning up, and bringing with them some annoyance at Benita. My gut told me she knew more than she was saying.

  “Hold on a minute.” The background noise quieted, then faded completely. “Look, Karis, I can't give you any details–”

  “So you do know something,” I interrupted. “Spit it out, Alverez.”

  “Bron's got something planned, but he asked me not to tell you.” Her voice was even, and I recognized it as the tone she used when she was dealing with someone who was losing their temper.

  “I'm worried about him, Benita.” I forced myself to calm down. “You know that he doesn't always think things through.”

  “He did this time,” she said. “Do you trust me, Melendez?”

  “I do,” I admitted reluctantly.

  “And do you trust him?”

  I closed my eyes. Shit. “Yes.”

  “Then take my advice and trust him. He'll call you, and it'll be well worth the wait.”

  I sighed. “I'm going to kick your ass for this, Benita.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You and what army?”

  I hung up and tossed my phone on the couch. “Dammit, Bron! What the hell are you up to?”

  I headed for the kitchen. I wasn't going to get through this without at least one glass of wine.

  I ended up drinking two and eating a bowl of chocolate fudge ice cream before a text message finally came through. It didn't give any explanations, didn't tell me what he'd been up to. All it said was an address...and the three words I needed to hear: Love you too.

  I went downstairs to hail a cab.

  Chapter Four

  Bron

  I knew I was taking a huge risk, leaving Karis without a note or even letting her know that I was going out, but I wanted this to be a surprise. I wasn't stupid though. I had a back-up plan in place in case she started to worry. I knew that before Karis would completely freak out, she'd call her partner, so I'd confided in Benita from moment one.

  That didn't, however, make it any easier for me to crawl out of the bed and leave my naked, gorgeous lover to wake up alone. Part of me wanted to slip under the cover
s and coax her from sleep by bringing her to climax with my mouth, then slide right into her tight pussy and fuck her until neither of us could walk. That would be the perfect start to the best weekend ever, in my opinion.

  Thoughts of sex with Karis didn't only make it difficult to leave her, they made it damn hard to walk until the erection I was sporting finally went down. Then, I had to force myself to think about each aspect of my plan, concentrate on the details, so I didn't get distracted by Karis again. She was damn distracting.

  It took me a bit longer than I'd expected to get everything just right, and by the time I was ready to send Karis the address, I knew I was in deep shit. I'd seen her texts, listened to her voicemail, then gotten a call from Benita saying Karis knew something was up.

  I sent my text and spent the next two minutes with my stomach in knots, wondering if Karis had gotten the message, wondering if she was going to ignore it, or if she'd come. Wondering if she'd forgive me the subterfuge. By the time her response finally came through, I was starting to regret wanting to make this a surprise.

  On my way.

  No hint of her mental state, or just how pissed she was.

  I took a slow, deep breath and headed downstairs so I could escort her upstairs and see her reaction. All of my usually calm, cool exterior was gone. I'd learned from Uaine how to keep my head in nearly every situation, but that training was failing me now. When it came to Karis, however, my thinking was rarely clear. She'd always been my weakness, even in our years apart.

  When she opened the cab door, I held out my hand. For a moment, I thought she would refuse to take it, but then she slid her hand into mine, and I knew we were okay. Even if she was mad at me, we'd get through it. Honestly, after everything we'd managed to fight our way through so far, I doubted there was much we couldn't get through together.

  “This way,” I said as I started back inside.