Fatal Pursuit (The Aegis Series)

  “It’s about time,” she said on a breath of both anticipation and relief. “I think I’m waking up.”

  “Well then, we’d better make sure you stay that way.” His gaze seared her legs, her hips, and her sex as he scanned every inch of her flesh with fierce hunger. Then he gripped one thigh and pushed it wide, slid the other hand beneath her ass and lifted at the same time he dropped his head, covering her with his mouth.

  Sensation rocketed through Marley’s body, taking control. “Jake. Ah, God, Jake.”

  He hummed against her, lips suckling, tongue stroking, exploring, tasting. “Mm,” he murmured between kisses and licks. “You taste incredible.”

  As if to prove it, he took her clit between his lips and suckled.

  “Oh.” Marley arched, unable to stand the intense pleasure, unable to stop herself from lifting into his mouth.

  Her orgasm came out of nowhere, rising too fast for her to do anything but hold on. She gripped the headboard in her hands. “Jake . . .” He hummed in response, licking faster, stroking harder. “Jake . . .” She pulled one hand from the headboard and fisted his hair. “Holy Go—”

  Pleasure peaked, closing her throat and twisting through her body in hot shards of ecstasy. The pressure eased, his tongue gentled its frantic stroke, but the friction continued to create little spasms of excitement that coursed all through her.

  He kissed her inner thigh, her hip, her belly as her limp muscles finally relaxed and she melted into the bed beneath her. Then he shifted to the side, and she realized he was sliding off the mattress.

  She grasped his arm, pushed him back before he could get away, rolled him over, and straddled his hips. “Don’t you dare leave.”

  “Like I could.”

  He was breathless as he looked up at her, his voice gruff with lust. And as her gaze raked his bare chest, down to the open button of his jeans, every inch of her desire roared back to life. Inching back, she grasped the denim and pulled it from his legs, then dropped the garment on the floor. But before she could explore with her hands and lips and tongue the way she wanted, he pushed her back, climbed between her legs, knelt down, then sat on his heels, gripping her hips so he could roughly pull her into his lap.

  Gasping, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and looked down into his face. The dim light cast shadows across his intense expression, made her heart beat faster. But his erection pressing against her wetness sent a shiver through her entire body, one she couldn’t ignore. Groaning, she lifted her hips and slid over his length until they both trembled.

  “God, I want you.” He pressed a gentle kiss across her collarbone. “Want you so much I can’t stand it. But I need to get a condom.”

  She tightened her arms around his shoulders, preventing him from leaving. “If you walk out of this room I might fall asleep. We can’t chance it with this possible concussion I’ve got going.”

  He chuckled. Kissed the base of her throat. Smiled against her skin in a way that made her entire body shiver. “Are you sure?”

  She’d never been more sure about anything. Cupping her hands on each side of his face, she lifted so he could see her. “Absolutely.”

  He growled, closed his eyes a brief second, then lifted his lids to look directly into her eyes. Rocking his hips, he positioned his cock at her entrance, then slowly pushed into her. The head pressed past the tightness, and he paused. “Mm, I like that. Tell me you like it too. Tell me.”

  “So good.” Her eyes drifted shut at the delicious stretch he created. Her hands slid to his shoulders, holding on as she tightened around him. She tried to lift to cause friction, but he held her too tightly, preventing her from moving.

  “Open your eyes, Marley. Look at me. Say my name again. Tell me where you belong.”

  The possessiveness in his words should have annoyed her. But instead it excited her. Electrified her. Made her hotter than she’d ever been. And it also confused her because she didn’t know what the words truly meant, and right now she didn’t want to wonder. She just wanted him.

  “Jake.” She rocked her hips to take him deeper. Needed more. Needed all of him. “I belong right here with you.”

  He pulled her mouth down, swept his tongue in and circled hers. His hips lifted, driving his length deep. Then he stilled, broke the kiss, and pressed his face to her neck. “Ah, God. Just want to stay here. Just want . . .” He lifted into her again, spread his knees, pushing her legs farther open, forcing himself deeper. “Just want all of you.”

  Warmth spread through her chest, circled her heart. Using his thighs, he lowered and lifted in full, deep, slow strokes, murmuring confusing, almost desperate words and phrases against her skin that didn’t make sense—“want it all, can’t, need more, yes, don’t let go, Marley, fuck, Marley . . .”

  Every stroke grew stronger, harder, deeper, rocking her beyond mind and body, straight to her soul. He sounded desperate, sounded frantic, sounded lost. And all those things he’d told her about his parents, about growing up alone, about being nothing but a disappointment, they echoed through her mind, shot straight to her heart, and made her love him even more. Because underneath all his aggravating alpha male-ness, he was just like her. Struggling to find his way, fighting to make something of himself, searching for a moment that would make everything else worth the battle.

  “Right here.” She gripped his face, tipped it up to hers. “I’m here.” Holding on tight to his shoulder, she lifted and lowered, driving him toward his climax, wanting to go over with him. She pressed her lips against his. “I’m right here, Jake.”

  He pulled back, clasped his hand against the back of her head, placed the other at the base of her spine, guiding her hips to his thrusts. His hair clung to his handsome, damp face, and his eyes looked both dark with passion and open with vulnerability. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Crazy. This is so fucking crazy. Crazy hot. Crazy good. Ah, God. Come with me, Marley.”

  Finally. “Yes.”

  With a groan, he picked up the speed of his thrusts, dug his fingers into the base of her spine, holding her steady. And as soon as Marley relaxed into him, her orgasm blossomed in stages—first mild, then intense, and finally, a blinding spasm of ecstasy spilling through her body as Jake released his own climax in shudders and guttural growls of pleasure.

  She fell against him. Sweaty, limp, unable to move. Heavy breaths lifted and lowered his chest. His damp skin pressed against hers—everywhere. He drew in a deep breath, then muttered, “Holy hell. That was . . .”

  Her eyes squeezed shut tight. Don’t say a mistake. Please don’t say it was a mistake. She wasn’t sure her heart could take that right now. Not after the things he’d said and the emotions he’d made her feel. Tomorrow she could handle rejection but not now. Not when—

  He fell back on the mattress and pulled her on top of him. “That was fucking amazing.”

  The tension leaked out of her. Relief rippled through her belly. She relaxed into him and pressed her face against his neck as his arms wound around her back, holding her close.

  “I think my muscles are broken,” he mumbled into her hair, “but it was amazing.”

  She smiled, pressed her lips against his throat, loved that he was him.

  And oh, the truth she’d tried so hard to ignore was plainly obvious. So obvious her heart squeezed tight. She wasn’t just in love with him. She was head over heels in love with him. She loved what he’d made of himself. Loved his determination and drive. Loved the way he cared about the people in his life even when he acted like he didn’t. She even loved his moodiness because it meant he wasn’t the hard, cold shell of a person his father had been. He might see himself as a disappointment, but she didn’t. She saw a man who’d risen above neglect and abandonment and become more than a child of abuse, he’d become a warrior.

  “You’re not falling asleep, are you?” he asked, his voice rumbling in his
throat, tickling her lips.

  “No.” She blinked back the warm wetness threatening her eyes. Told herself she was being silly and that she needed to get in control of these stupid emotions before he saw them. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  He rolled her to her back, drew away, and gazed down at her. And though she tried not to look, the minute she met his heated, sultry gaze, she knew she wasn’t tired. And neither was he. Not even close. Fire flickered in his dark eyes. A fire she knew just how to stroke to a full-blown flame even if the result might burn her in the end.

  The edge of his lips curled. “Then we better do something about that. Don’t you think?”

  Her pulse raced. Her stomach tightened in anticipation. She braced her hands on his muscular forearms and then bit her lip. “What do you have in mind?”

  “This.” He lowered his mouth to her throat. Kissed her neck. Slid his lips to her collarbone, then lower to the edge of her breast. “And this.” He moved down and laved his tongue across the tip of her nipple, sending shards of arousal straight back to her center. “And a hell of a lot more of this.”

  Oh yes . . .

  He lifted his head before she got lost in the sensation and captured her gaze. “But mostly, tonight, I just want you to be mine.”

  Those were the words she’d been waiting to hear. Warmth bloomed all through her chest, and a hope she’d been afraid to let herself believe in spread through every cell. It was foolish and reckless and made zero sense, but she wanted that too. Wanted everything.

  She drew in a breath for courage. Licked her lips. And decided now—right now—she’d finally take the chance. “Then do it, Jake. Make me yours.”

  Jake rolled to his side, spooning in against Marley’s back. His skin tingled everywhere they touched, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Draping his arm over her side, he pulled her back into him, loving the soft little moan that drifted from her lips, loving the way every inch of his skin heated, loving mostly the way her hand slid over his against her belly and her fingers closed to hold on tight.

  She was asleep. Or maybe she was drifting in that semiconscious state between rest and alertness. He’d been there for a while, enjoying the feel of her against him, not wanting to think too much about how what they’d done in this room was going to change things between them. Savoring the moment for what it was: pure delight.

  It was different from what had happened in the jungle. He knew that even without opening his eyes. Then, they’d both been a little high and way tipsy. Adrenaline had been pulsing. Drums had been beating. Neither of them could have stopped that night from happening if they’d tried. But this . . . this was a definite choice. He’d come back to her even though he’d known the smart move was to leave. She’d welcomed him without a single protest.

  His eyes slid open. He glanced toward the window beyond her. It was still dark outside, but he knew it was getting close to dawn. In a few hours he’d have to figure out what he was going to say to her about all this. What it all meant. God knew she’d want some kind of answer—this was Marley after all. The woman planned everything.

  He glanced down at the soft skin of her neck, her jaw, the edge of her lips. Remembered the things he’d whispered, the things he’d felt. Gently tugging his hand out from under hers, he brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek, awed by the silkiness of her skin and the way her lashes fluttered against her flesh.

  What was he going to say? He wasn’t quite sure. But he liked this. Liked the feel of her against him, liked the way she reacted to his touch, liked being with her way more than he ever should.

  His chest grew tight. A familiar sense of panic pushed in, one he’d learned long ago meant he was getting too close. One that made him vulnerable. Pushing away from her, he rolled to his back, rested his hand on his bare chest, and stared up at the dark ceiling while he tried to get hold of the crazy emotions pinging around beneath his ribs.

  This was why he’d kept his distance. Not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too much. She thought the reason he’d chased her down to Colombia was because he thought she couldn’t handle herself in the field, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was simply that he couldn’t handle the thought of anything bad happening to her. Not when he knew he could be the one to make sure she stayed safe.

  The pressure intensified in his chest. He rubbed his hand over the spot. He needed to tell her about Gabby. Marley knew about his parents, but she didn’t know about Yemen. Maybe if she did she’d understand why he was the controlling ass he’d become. But even as he thought the words, he knew there was no way he could come right out and tell her. It wouldn’t change the past. It wouldn’t make any kind of difference. It wouldn’t change him or this relationship growing between them.

  Relationship . . .

  He blew out a long breath. Wished like hell that spot against his sternum, the one that seemed to be cinching down tighter with every passing second, would just go away. That was the crux of the issue here, wasn’t it? She wasn’t just his assistant anymore. She wasn’t his friend. She was more. And the hard reality was that he wanted more. Wanted more of this, wanted more of her, wanted more of the lighthearted warmth he felt whenever she was close.

  What-if scenarios filled his head. Ones that didn’t scare the shit out of him, surprisingly. He rolled toward her once more, needing to touch her, needing to feel her, needing to pull her close, and draped his arm over her waist again as he pulled her in tight. Something rigid brushed along his foot.

  He pushed up on his elbow and glanced down her leg. The sheets were tangled between them, but her bare foot was tucked on top of the white cotton, and even in the darkness he could see the woven leather band tied around her ankle. The one that matched the band still tied around his ankle, which they’d both gotten in that jungle village.

  The pressure eased. Warmth filled his chest when he realized she hadn’t taken it off. She’d had multiple opportunities to do just that—in the helicopter when she’d been pissed at him, in the shower on his plane after they’d argued, at her father’s house the last two days—and still hadn’t. Which meant, to her, this was more than just physical too. It meant—

  A buzzing sound echoed from the floor. Startled out of his thoughts, Jake glanced over his shoulder toward his jeans lying in a heap. The buzz sounded again. He looked toward the clock on the bedside table, thought about ignoring the call—after all, nothing good happened at 4:47 a.m.—then cursed under his breath and slid out from beneath the sheet.

  He had a couple guys stationed overseas. If something had gone wrong on one of their ops, he needed to be available. Plus, if Miller had more info about who was checking into his background and properties, he wanted to know.

  He grabbed his pants from the floor, tugged his phone out of the front pocket, and stared down at the screen. The message wasn’t from Miller, though. It was from Dominic Brooks, his contact at the State Department, and it simply said, Check your e-mail.

  Thoughts of McKnight pinged through his head. Marley would be pissed if she knew he’d been digging around in McKnight’s background, so he purposely hadn’t told her. But curiosity got the best of him, and he tugged on his pants. He’d just take a quick peek, then come back. Glancing once more at Marley to make sure she was still asleep, he tiptoed out of the room and closed the door softly at his back.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he moved down the steps and thought about sliding back into bed with her. About waking her with his hands and lips and tongue. It was crazy—this whole thing was crazy—but for the first time in he didn’t know how long he was starting to think maybe he’d been wrong to keep his distance from people all these years. Maybe what he really needed to break his father’s cycle of neglect was someone who could see through his bullshit, who knew how to deal with it, and who didn’t take no for an answer.

  Maybe what he’d needed all this time was
Marley.

  He moved into his office and sank into the chair behind his desk. After powering on the monitor, he pulled up his e-mail, then opened the message from Dom.

  Ryder—

  Interesting bit of info I was able to dig up. Omega’s raid on Jose Moreno was indeed a State Department contract. Addison sent four men in on the job—McKnight, Sanders, Jones, and Reynolds. Jones and Reynolds were both killed in action. Sanders and McKnight were officially listed as MIA. McKnight eventually turned up. No clue where Sanders is.

  Also found these photos, which I thought you might want to see. Doesn’t look like your assistant has the same worries you do.

  —Brooks

  Jake sat back and read the first paragraph again. Before looking at the photos, he grabbed his cell and texted Pierce Bentley.

  RYDER: I need you to find Darren Sanders. He worked for Omega until he was listed as MIA on a raid in Colombia five years ago. Find him or find me his death certificate. I need to know if he’s still alive.

  He set his phone down, confident Bentley would get right on it in the morning. The man was fresh from a week’s vacation and didn’t have another op scheduled for a while.

  Setting his finger back on the touchpad, Jake scrolled down to look at the pictures Brooks had sent, then drew in a breath as if someone had sucker punched him straight in the gut.

  The photo was of Marley and McKnight. It was clearly several years old—her hair was shorter and a little darker, and her face appeared younger, not as mature as it was now—but it didn’t change Jake’s gut reaction. They were standing on the patio of what looked to be a golf course. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, and she wore a formfitting red dress that hit just above the knee. Both were holding drinks and smiling. But what caught Jake’s attention was the way she was looking up at McKnight as he stared at the camera. As if he were the center of the world. As if she’d found the key to happiness.

  Jake scrolled down to the next picture. In this one, the two of them were seated at a candlelit dinner, neither looking at the camera, both focused only on each other. He paged down again and found one where they were both dressed in camo gear, green paint smudged over her cheek, his arms wrapped around her from behind, both holding paintball guns and laughing toward whoever had snapped the photo.