Midnight Velvet
They drove for awhile, Nevada not even paying attention where they were headed. Finally, Tyler exited the freeway and turned down a dark road. She looked around at unfamiliar surroundings. They were well out of town, heading into a sparsely populated area. Where were they going?
This was too much. She couldn’t get her mind around what had happened in such a short space of time. First, she found out that she’d actually been assigned to a case. Okay, that part was pretty exciting. But to have to go home with Tyler? That part confused her.
“Any particular reason I have to go with you?” It sounded childish even to her. She didn’t care. She needed time to think about all that had transpired. And she wanted to do that alone.
“Yeah, because our superiors ordered it. It’s settled. Out of your hands now. Your little harebrained scheme screwed everything up. Nice job, Agent Velvet.”
“Hey, that’s not fair.” Maybe she did screw up by going in when she shouldn’t have, but he didn’t have to be such an arrogant prick about it.
“Tough. Life’s not fair. Neither’s this job. Better get used to it.”
Oh yeah. This was going to be fun. And she had to live with this guy? “How long do I have to stay with you?”
He flipped a glance in her direction. “Too damn long.”
Now she was getting steamed. Being assigned to Tyler was the commander’s idea, not hers. “I agree any amount of time is too much. But since I’ve been assigned to you, the least you could do is try to be pleasant.”
“Yeah. I’ll give that thought all the effort it deserves.”
Which meant none at all. Maybe her desk job hadn’t been so bad after all. And she’d fantasized about this moron?
More and more trees appeared along the side of the road, their density increasing the farther Tyler drove down the dark, deserted two-lane.
“Why aren’t we going back to the agency instead?” At least there she could plead for a safe house or hotel. Anywhere but with Tyler Call.
“Protocol. Once an agent is compromised, you can’t go anywhere near the agency.”
She groaned, wishing she’d driven straight home tonight. “This situation is not entirely my fault, you know.”
He glanced at her. “Really. How do you figure?”
“If you hadn’t grabbed me and thrown me down on the floor of the warehouse, I’d still have my bag.”
“Uh-huh.”
He wasn’t buying it. How typical. Always the woman’s fault. God forbid he should take blame for any part of this debacle.
“Tell me about your home. Any pets? Family members living with you?”
“No. I live alone.”
He shot a glance in her direction. “Any lovers planning to come by this weekend?”
“That’s personal.” Not that she had any.
“No, babe. It’s not personal. It’s agency business. If anyone lives in or plans to stop by your house, the agency needs to know so they can arrange to intercept or rescue.”
Oh. Mark two on her idiot’s list. “No one. No family, no pets, no lover.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
What the hell did that mean? If she wasn’t boiling with irritation she’d push him further.
Before she had a chance to think of any more reasons she disliked Tyler right now, he turned left into a dense crop of trees. What was he doing? Did he live in the woods? Then she saw the almost non-existent dirt road. Cleverly hidden, the opening would easily be missed unless one was specifically looking for it.
The road snaked along forever before they came to a house. Actually, it looked more like a vacation home. Set amidst a wooded area thick with gigantic trees, the one-story ranch-style cottage was nestled dead center in the tender arms of Mother Nature.
Tyler pulled in front and stopped and they both got out. He walked past her without looking, pressing a button on his key ring that sounded three quick beeps. The lights inside the house came on instantly. An alarm system. She followed as he opened the front door and directed her inside.
It was sparse, with very little furniture and definitely bachelor decor. A large stone fireplace centered the small living area, which held a couch and a desk with a computer.
Off to the left of the entry was a kitchen complete with an early-garage-sale-style chrome and laminate table. Two matching chairs in the same icky yellow as the tabletop sat at opposite ends. Other than a few scarred walnut cabinets for storage and some old, greasy appliances, there wasn’t much.
“You live here?”
“Sometimes, when I’m able to stand still for a minute.” He walked away, leaving her in the middle of the living room.
Could this be any more awkward? He could at least show her around. Not much of a host, was he? Then again, charm didn’t seem to be high on his list of qualities. Disgruntled arrogance ranked right up there, though.
She blew out a breath and looked around the rustic cabin, feeling out of place and thinking that perhaps she’d bitten off more than she could chew.
Not much she could do about that now.
Determined not to be treated like a piece of furniture, she followed him, but stopped dead when she realized he’d stepped into the bedroom. The only bedroom, from the looks and size of the place.
He’d removed his shirt and stood next to the bed, eyeing her with impatience. She’d gotten a peek at his tanned, muscular back before he turned to her. And he was tall. Well over six feet would be her guess.
“What do you want?”
Did he have time for her to make a list? She tried to focus on the style of the furniture, the walls with no pictures, the room leading into the bath. Anything but his naked chest, covered in dark, curling hair that formed a V as it tunneled its way into the waistband of his jeans. Oh, my. “I want to know what happens now.”
“I’m going to take a shower. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
What did she want? She wanted to go home. Since that wasn’t possible, he was going to have to give her more information. “That answer isn’t good enough. I want to know how long I have to stay here and why I have to be at your house instead of a safe house or a hotel or somewhere else.”
“Look, Velvet. This wasn’t my idea, so I’m not any happier than you are about the situation we’re in. I’m tired and I’ve got grease all over me from riding under that truck. I need a shower first, then a drink. So just go cool your heels and I’ll answer your questions when I’m done. Unless you wanna follow me into the shower and ask them there.”
Tyler suppressed a smile at the widening of her shocked brown eyes when he began unbuttoning his jeans. Was she going to stand there and watch him undress?
If she was, the twitch in his cock was going to be a helluva lot more in a few seconds.
Shooting him a scathing look, she quickly pivoted on one heel and scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Good thing, too. If she continued to watch him with that I’m-going-to-eat-you-alive look, he’d have had a hard time dropping his pants without letting her know how she affected him. He shook off the image of her little pink tongue sliding over her full lips.
He turned the shower on and stood under the warm spray, letting the heat and moisture linger on his stiff shoulders.
What a mess. First the mission and now Nevada.
Or Velvet. Whatever. Her appearance matched her voice, both exotic and smoky. Her long brown hair begged for a man’s touch, as did her slender body. His mind strayed to images of sliding his hands around her waist, grasping that well-rounded bottom and pulling her against his heat.
Bad enough her voice had done things to his body. Now that he’d met her, his thoughts strayed to sex. Hot, nasty sex. Up-against-the-wall sex, his dick slamming into her sweet cunt until she screamed for him to make her come.
Nevada had attitude. And attitude made him hot. His desires strayed to confident, ballsy women, not fluffy little bunnies who’d cry the first time a guy looked at her sideways. She was the ballsy t
ype. Hell, he gave her a ton of credit for taking the risks she had tonight to rescue him. Granted, it had backfired, but she wasn’t afraid. And he admired a woman without fear.
Not that he’d ever tell her that. Because no matter how much he may have admired her guts, she was in his way. And considering it had been a long damn dry spell since he’d had sex, having Nevada underfoot was only going to cause trouble.
Because he sure as hell wasn’t going to fuck her, no matter what his cock wanted.
He took his wayward hard-on in his hands and stroked it, the water and soap streaming down his arm to slicken his hold. No, he wasn’t going to fuck her, but he could damn well jack off thinking about doing it.
She was petite, yet had womanly curves. Her eyes were amber brown, almond shaped and intense. He’d like to see those eyes turn a molten gold as he slid his shaft deep inside her pussy. She’d be a wildcat in bed, too, he just knew it. He bit back a groan as he imagined her full lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him as deep as she could take him.
Christ, he didn’t want to come this way. Not when a woman whose mere voice could get him hard in seconds stood only a few feet from the shower. A woman he wanted to taste from head to toe. A woman whose creamy cunt would welcome his thick cock and squeeze the cum right out of him.
His balls tightened and he stroked faster, bracing his hand on the shower glass and tensed as his cock shot a hot stream of cum onto the floor. He breathed in and out steadily as his orgasm shuddered through him.
Hell, if masturbating while thinking about her gave him that powerful a climax, what would fucking her do? Kill him?
Shit. He shook the water out of his eyes and chided himself for his wayward thoughts. The idea was a hot shower, not a cold one, and if his mind kept straying to Nevada, he’d be turning the water to frigid any second now. Better to focus on the mission and his next steps. First, he had to cover his tracks and fix the disastrous results of tonight’s escapade.
After his shower, he threw on a pair of shorts and went in search of his new houseguest. He found her sitting ramrod straight on the couch, hands clasped in her lap like a bad student waiting for the principal to show up. Yeah, he’d like to treat her like a bad girl. Over his knee, panties down to her ankles and his hand on that fine ass of hers, giving her swats that would make her cream.
Focus, dammit.
When he walked in, she shot him that deer-in-the-headlights look, then quickly disguised it to one of irritation.
Maybe she wasn’t as cool and calm as she’d led him to believe. “You can relax, you know,” he said as he passed by to grab something to drink.
“I am relaxed.”
Right. She was as calm as a cornered animal.
“Would you like a drink?” he called out from the kitchen.
“No, thank you.”
Polite, too.
The bourbon and water would help him unwind before sleeping. Too many conflicting thoughts rolled around in his head right now, not the least of which was parked like a stone statue on his couch.
He flopped in a chair next to her. She looked over at him, sort of. Actually, she looked at him, the wall, the computer, the front door and the hallway. Then, every few seconds her eyes would dart back to him.
“You haven’t looked at the ceiling yet.” He hid his smile behind the glass.
Her eyes met his. Direct, golden and pissed off. “I’m not exactly thrilled to be here, you know.”
“Why?” Though he already knew the answer.
“Why? Let’s see.” She began to tick off a list on her fingers. “First, we almost got killed. I lost my bag, my driver’s license and my credit cards. It held the keys to my home, which is probably being ransacked as we speak. And to top it off, I’m stuck here in the middle of nowhere with a man who quite obviously doesn’t want me around. I don’t know why I was so stupid to think that the mighty Midnight might actually need my help. Yes, I screwed up, okay? And it cost me my freedom and for what? To be stuck here with an arrogant ass like you? That’s why I don’t want to be here.”
And edgy. He leaned forward and held out his glass. “Take a drink. It’ll help.”
She looked at him suspiciously, but took the glass from his hand. He tried to ignore the punch to his gut as her lips covered the same spot where his had just been. She swallowed and handed the glass back to him. He fought the urge to lick that exact spot on the glass where her mouth had been.
“The agency has already cancelled your credit cards and put a watch on your apartment. If anyone tries to get in, they’ll know.”
“That’s so comforting.”
He sat back and watched her fidget. Finally, she stood and paced the room.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink?”
He was shocked when she whirled on him, golden eyes flaming. “No, I don’t want a drink! I don’t want to sit here making idle conversation with you. I want to know what’s going to happen next. What about my job? I was supposed to start a training program on Monday. A program I’ve spent a year trying to get into. I want to know how long I’m going to be here and how this affects my training. And what the hell am I supposed to wear? I need some answers, not a goddamn drink!”
Whoa. A spitfire lurked under that icy calm. He resisted the urge to smile, hoping to hell his cock would resist the urge to stand up and salute a woman with some spirit.
Shrugging, he answered her truthfully, which he was fairly certain wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “As far as your job, quit worrying about it. The commander wants you to start field training first. Since you already tossed yourself, unwanted I might add, into this case, you’re staying here to work with me. As far as the rest, I’d like to say I had all the answers for you, babe, but I don’t. Sorry.”
Her eyes flashed anger and her body language told him everything. She crossed her arms—protecting herself. She paced—nervous. She chewed her bottom lip—apprehensive. The woman was seriously stressed.
Maybe she just needed a little old-fashioned sex to calm her down. Yeah, right. The sex would be for him, not her. He was so aware of her right now his nerve endings were screaming for him to jump up and take her. Take her hard and fast and force her to turn that wild energy to something productive, like fucking his brains out.
He paused mid-drink and considered it, then just as quickly discarded the thought. Just what you need to add to your list of major foul-ups today. Sex with someone who works for the agency. Idiot. He needed to go to bed.
Alone.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“What happens now?”
He yawned. “I have no idea. We’ll figure it out in the morning after I’ve had a chance to do some reconnaissance.”
“And in the meantime?”
“You stay here. With me. I protect you and train you—you continue to live. Pretty simple.”
She looked over the walls, ceilings, doors and windows. “Are we safe here?”
“As safe as you can be. I have a security system that alerts me if anyone comes within one hundred yards of the house. Plus, a few little surprises should someone breach the perimeter. And I’ll know if someone comes close. Trust me.”
“Oh.” Her gaze darted around the room, searching for hidden traps.
“Don’t bother looking for them. You’d never see them. No one can. That’s what makes them effective.”
“I’m not stupid, you know. I realize how security is structured. We work for the same agency, remember?”
How could he forget? That voice of hers was his lifeline on nights when he felt alone. She warmed him, made him feel things he shouldn’t feel about someone he was supposed to protect. And now that he’d seen the face and the body that went with the voice, it was so much better than it had been in his fantasies. And worse. “Analysts don’t get the same training agents do.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Which still doesn’t make me stupid. And besides, didn’t you say you were my training officer? I was accept
ed as a field agent trainee. I have had intelligence training and I don’t expect to sit here and be protected by you. I want you to teach me.”
Feisty little thing. He admired her for that. She was in the wrong, had screwed up and she damn well knew it, and yet she wasn’t going to give up. A point in her favor.
Teach her? Hell yeah he’d like to teach her a few things, none of which had anything to do with the agency. He blew out a quick breath to get his libido under control. Somehow he got the idea she wouldn’t be very happy spotting his growing hard-on.
To start, he’d have to teach her some basic self-defense moves, if for no other reason than an added security measure. But not tonight. He’d been awake almost twenty-four hours and was dead on his feet. So was she, as evidenced by the dark circles under her eyes. Eyes he wanted to press his lips against, easing away her strain, her fear.
He stood abruptly. “I suppose we need to find you something to sleep in.”
“That would be a good start.”
He went to the bedroom and came back with one of his T-shirts and tossed it at her. “This will have to do.”
She fisted her hand around it. “Thanks. I need a shower, too.”
He directed her to the bathroom, then sat on his bed and listened while the shower ran. Listened to the water running, imagined her slipping out of her pants and silk blouse. Sliding out of whatever undergarments she wore, which in his imagination were lacy, silky and utterly decadent.
He groaned, then decided he’d better think about the mission instead.
Thinking about work helped get his mind out of the gutter. Until she stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, stopping at the foot of his bed. His old gray shirt was way too large for her and more seductive than if she’d been clad in a see-through nightgown. Her long hair cascaded in a dark waterfall, resting over small, well-shaped breasts outlined by the clinging, worn cotton. Her long legs tantalized him, peeking out from under the ragged hem of his favorite college shirt.
Her gaze swept to the thin sheet covering his hips. Then she looked into his eyes and licked her lips nervously before quickly looking away. He caught a brief glimpse of feminine awareness that made him ache and want to throw the pillow over his lap. Or throw her over his lap.