Chapter Fourteen

“Finish undressing me, Cam, before I explode. Please.”

Holy hell. Sexy Audrey Jenkins was begging him to unwrap her like a damn Milky Way candy bar. As he stared at her pale, half-naked body like a hungry man, he flexed his fingers, resisting the urge to run them all over her glistening skin. Now that the subject of sex had been broached, he wanted her every way he could have her.

He wasn’t going to lie. He’d been thinking about her, dreaming about her, for a while. Like right now. He could imagine himself sucking on those nubby little nipples, their sweet flavor in his mouth. At the thought, he grew even stiffer and groaned. Shit!

She looked at him like he was some sort of Boy Scout. Right now, he was the furthest thing from that. What he wanted to do with her, to her, would rival a contortionist’s act. Honorable, his ass. Hell, he could be dirtier than a porn site with a million likes.

But not with Audrey. Audrey was different. Audrey’s feelings mattered. Audrey demanded sex, but he suspected she actually needed lovemaking. Slow, sensual caresses that lasted hours in a feather bed, culminating with an orgasm that would go on forever. She wasn’t just any woman. Though not fragile, she was still more important than Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. However, the way he was reacting to her request, how his body was clamoring for release, if he hit somewhere between dirty sex and sweetly romantic lovemaking, he’d be doing well. He was on fire just thinking about having her.

She continued to gaze at him, though the glint in her eyes dimmed. She expected a refusal because he’d taken too long to respond. He couldn’t do that to her, and he sure as hell wouldn’t do that to himself. Instead of verbally answering her, he chose the Army way of doing.

He folded her into his arms, crushing her against him and taking her mouth with starving lips. Now that he’d acted, he couldn’t slow down. He swallowed her yelp of surprise, kissing her over and over, growing light-headed with need. Her lips were soft, pliant, eager, tasting minty, perhaps of the toothpaste she’d used earlier. He covered them with his frantic ones. She returned his kisses with equal fervor, scraping his lower lip with her teeth, driving him mad.

She leaned into him, her mouth opening to invite him in. He swirled his tongue with hers, bringing one hand up to the back of her head to hold it steady, while the other slid into her loose pajama bottoms. He needed to feel her skin. Damned if she wasn’t wearing a thong underneath. He squeezed her butt cheeks, pressing her lower half against his straining dick. She moaned into his mouth. He ground himself against her, wanting more.

“I need…I need…”

Her voice came out in little pants that nearly made him come in his trousers. He kissed her nose, her eyelids. “I know what you need.” He took a second to congratulate himself on making her weak in the knees before he picked her up in his arms.

He laid her on the striped rug that covered a good portion of the floor before coming down on top of her. “Better?” He levered himself on one elbow, shifting to his side while hooking one leg over her possessively. He looked down into her face, his dog tags dangling between them. Her eyes were glazed with desire, lips swollen from his desperate kisses. She opened her mouth slightly, expectantly, while she nodded in answer to his question.

He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose, resting his free hand in the valley between her breasts. Her skin was hot, and just as smooth as he’d imagined. Sliding his hand to the right, he cupped her breast. Her nipple was hard. He fanned the palm of his hand across it, lowering his head and tasting her lips at the same time.

Peppermint candies. That’s what her mouth reminded him of. Delicious, sweet, addicting. He continued to kiss her, gently, thoroughly, while he plucked her nipple with his fingers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, mouth opening in blatant invitation. He lazily explored it with his tongue, resisting her efforts to make him move faster. Now that the first contact had been made, he could take his time. Well, maybe for a little bit.

Leisure had its own rewards, even if his body clamored to take her. He drifted from her lips, nibbling along her neck to that tender spot behind her ear. Her skin tasted like her mouth, sweet, soft, yet with a touch of heat. She turned her head, and he nipped her earlobe before soothing it with his tongue. She sighed. He kissed down her throat. Her hands went into his hair. It was his turn to emit a moan as she massaged his scalp.

He kissed down her chest to her breast, which he plumped with his hand before latching on to the begging little bud. Sweeter than hard candy. Irresistible. He used his teeth, just a tease. She cried out, writhing beneath him, arching when he sucked harder. Accepting the invitation, he slid his hand into her pajama bottoms, through that scrap of material, and cupped her. She pressed against his palm and breathed a thready little, “Yesss.”

The way she rocked against his hand told him she was on the edge. She promised to be wildly responsive, if what he’d already experienced was any indication. He didn’t want this moment to end, to crash back into a reality that had no room for lovemaking. However, he was only so strong, and his body was demanding to make her his.

He removed his hand from her pants, and her eyes snapped open. “Where are you going, Harris?”

He laughed and rose to his feet. Typical Audrey reaction. No beating around the bush. Holding her gaze, he shucked his clothes, yanking both shirts over his head and tossing them to the floor. He toed off his shoes. His pants and boxers were next, ending in the same pile, after he withdrew a foil packet from his wallet, dropping it beside his clothes.

“We can’t go much further with clothes. They’re overrated anyway, especially with the way you…” He swallowed the rest of his words, because she’d stood up and dropped her pajama bottoms, leaving only a hot pink thong.

Holy shit. He was going to go into geyser mode just looking at her. Her skin had faded tan lines that he would trace with his tongue later. The bandage on her arm stood out stark white against her skin, giving him a moment’s hesitation. But all that luscious skin beckoned, along with her wet heat.

He rested his hands on her hips. She shuddered, eyes dropping closed. He skimmed his hands up her waist to the sides of her breasts, keeping his gaze trained on her face. She licked her lips. He leaned in, kissed them gently, and watched her eyes open, focus on him.

“You’re an unusual man, Special Agent Cam Harris.” She gave him a sidelong look. He kissed her jawline. She leaned into him, squashing her breasts against him. It was his turn to close his eyes. He nibbled her earlobe as he pulled her closer. Hooking his fingers into that come-and-get-me thong, he said goodbye to it, sliding it down her incredible legs. She stepped out of it.

“I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for a while. It’s time to enjoy it.” He kissed along her shoulder, nibbling against her skin. She shivered. He skimmed his hands down to her taut ass, squeezing. Her body trembled. Damn. She was the play gym and he was the kid that wouldn’t leave it. He wanted to dawdle, to savor every part of her. She had other ideas. She grabbed his hands and knelt, pulling him down on top of her. He settled between her legs. This was good, too.

Bending his head, he kissed her lips. She kissed him back fervently. He ignored that for the time being. She was the drug that he couldn’t get enough. Moving away from her mouth, he kissed the soft underside of her left breast while squeezing and molding the other one. He was dizzy on her taste, her smell. The way she looked.

She stretched her arms above her head. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucked deep, placing one hand on her quivering abdomen. She bowed upward, wanting more. He gave her more. Her body undulated in time with each draw at her breast. If it was possible, he grew harder.

Intending on bringing them both to the edge before entering her, he scraped his teeth across her nipple, and she cried out. He did the same to the other one, alternating back and forth while she first held his head, then gripped his shoulders with strong fingers. “Damn it, Harris, what are you waiting for?”

This time he did laugh, sitting on his haunches to slide the condom on and to catch his breath. Her body was rosy from his kisses. She met his gaze, comfortable in her nakedness. He returned to her, sinking into one more drugging kiss as he eased his length into her. He groaned, savoring every sensation of being inside her.

She was tight. Tight, slick, and hot. He didn’t count himself as a romantic man, but right now, seated deep inside her, felt so right. Like coming home. Dazed by the notion, he focused on maintaining “slow and leisurely,” when he really wanted to slam into her, claim her. Which sounded so medieval.

He withdrew, then slid in deeper, repeating the unhurried pace, enjoying the prolonged sensations. She rose up to meet him, spearing her fingers into his hair, kneading his scalp. Her hands streaked over him, touching, smoothing, driving him mad, urging him on. Until he lost control.

He began to thrust, harder, faster, chasing that elusive pinnacle. Her hands dropped to his shoulders. He pounded into her, vision graying, head spinning. She wanted it hard, chanting “faster” or “almost” as she rose to meet his thrusts. Tingles erupted along his spine, radiating to every nerve ending, centering where they became one. Colors splashed across his closed eyelids. The finish line was close, hovering just out of reach. They raced toward it. And then it overtook them.

She gasped, throwing her head back as her inner muscles clenched around him, tightening, pulsing, as the orgasm roared through him a second later. He might have shouted, he thought he did, continuing to pound into her as he came and came. He scrunched his eyelids tight, raised his head, and rode out the greatest damn orgasm he’d ever experienced.

…

She wasn’t prepared for the climax. Like thunder, it rolled over her, harder, faster, until she screamed into the storm. The lightning struck next, shooting through her, igniting all her nerve endings, stealing her breath away. She gulped air, fuel for the inferno exploding inside her, around her. And she clung to the one constant throughout the fury: Cam.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except hold on to him as the tumult crashed over them both. The orgasm took her to the top of the wave, and then she was falling, tumbling through sensations of pain and pleasure, tingles so intense she prayed they’d never stop.

His voice came to her through the tempest, and she clung to his arms, soaring on the incredible high with him. He was in control of her body, and she rose to meet him, each thrust sending sparks through her, leaving her panting, hoping for more. And she got more, like a little rise in the road, with a drop off that left her squealing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, felt his heart pounding along with hers. And kissed his neck, his chin, that scar.

He fell on to his back after disposing of the condom, dragging her with him. He sucked in air. She smooshed against him after throwing her leg over his pelvis, rested her limp hand on his chest. His heart hammered beneath it. She sighed, eyes drifting shut.

“I don’t think there’s any saving this rug.”

His voice rumbled. He sounded like he’d just finished running a marathon. When his words sunk in, she busted up laughing. “Why Special Agent Harris, I do believe you just cracked a joke. While being buck naked.”

He rose up on his elbows, brow furrowed. “I have a sense of humor. What made you think I didn’t have one?”

She smiled and reached out one forefinger to smooth away his frown.

“You’ve been so serious ever since I saw you in the courtroom. You’re very dedicated to your career.” She traced the scar on his chin. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. So, he didn’t want her noticing the scar. Too bad. His behavior made her all the more curious of how he got it. Even if his gesture was uber-romantic, she’d still get the story of how he came by that mark on his chin. She looked forward to wheedling the information out of him.

“What Brett did was serious. Allowing him the chance to escape rests all on me. If I hadn’t requested that detail—” He broke off suddenly and cast his gaze to her hand that he continued to hold. Lifting her wrist to his mouth, he kissed it. He did it again. His lips were feather soft. Once more, he was attempting to distract her from what he’d obviously not meant to say. Interesting.

She pulled her hand free and sat up. He did the same, watching her like a person watched a strange dog, as if not sure if it would bite. Or, in her case, continue with her questions. Which she damn well was going to do.

“Why would you request a prisoner transfer? That’s gotta be one of the worst jobs in CID. Unless…” She paused as an idea hit her. Before taking the time to mull it over, she made a stab in the dark. “Unless you knew Brett personally? As a friend, maybe? Cam?”

He finally raised his head, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, we were friends since Boot Camp. He saved my life in Kabul a few years ago.”

“Your scar.” She’d known there was a story behind it. She hadn’t expected that one, though. Cam a friend of Brett’s? They didn’t seem like they could be buddies, though on second thought, they both had intense personalities. But where Brett had bent the rules to serve his desires, she already knew Cam would never change the rules to suit himself. Just like now. He was acting as guilty as if he’d committed some crime. He’d been Brett’s friend, not his partner in crime.

“Yes, my scar. It reminds me that I didn’t listen to that little voice that day that something wasn’t right. If it wasn’t for Brett, I would’ve paid for that mistake with my life. For that alone, I owed him my company on his transfer to Leavenworth. Apparently, he didn’t have those same feelings of loyalty.” His lips thinned.

“How’d it happen?” She nodded at his chin.

“We were interrogating some sources who knew about a weapons deal going down in Kabul. I still don’t know what set me off, but the whole thing didn’t feel right. Turned out the guys we were interrogating were decoys in an ambush. We lost Jimenez. He left a widow and two kids.”

She squeezed his hand. She’d been a terp. She knew what it was like to have to rely on the locals for information. Were they honest? Were they backstabbers? You lost hours, days, off your life on every mission. Would this be the day they’d turn on you? She understood his gut feeling, or “Spidey” sense. They all developed one out in the field.

“I’m sorry. And they would’ve lost you, if it weren’t for Brett.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, I owe him my life. I took that final detail with him because of that. And because we’d been friends. Instead, I got a toilet tank lid in the face. Escaping was more important than our friendship to Brett. This cause, this call to arms, must mean a helluva lot more to him than relationships.”

“If it’s for what I think it is, it’s a real game changer. Imagine, one world, at peace. No need for armies. Sounds almost like Heaven. Until you think about how many people must be killed in order to become that one-world organization.”

Sadness filled his eyes. Sadness, and guilt. A man like Cam would always feel guilty, ashamed, for losing a prisoner. He was supposed to be above those types of mistakes. That’s what he thought, even if it wasn’t possible.

“If only I’d—”

She put her forefinger over his lips. “Forget the ‘if onlys.’ You thought you mattered to him. You didn’t. Nobody did to Brett. Brett always needed a cause, and once he found one, he had tunnel vision. He makes a good soldier, especially for the wrong side.

“So quit beating yourself up. We know what he’s working for, who he’s working for, to a degree. We have to figure out how to stop him. And I guess attacking me is separate to his objective. The revenge hit because I put him away.”

“Unless he hid something with you, and when he couldn’t get to it, he threw a tantrum and torched your work and attacked your house.”

“I told you—”

“I know. He didn’t visit you much. But it’s the logical conclusion. Whatever it was, it had to be small so that you wouldn’t notice it. Maybe he hid it in your clothes, your purse? Those items would go to his place and back to you.”

He radiated hope. She hated to burst that belief, but the fact was, she’d never found anything suspicious in her belongings. She’d changed her purse since she’d turned Brett in, and she’d done laundry oodles of time since then. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, wanting to let him down gently.

The touch of his lips against hers ignited the desire she thought they’d recently quenched. A burning started low in her body, quickly engulfing her like a wildfire all over again. She wanted him. A chaste kiss wasn’t going to slake this craving. His hands, his lips, his tongue. She wanted it all once more.

She rose to her knees, braced her hands on his muscular shoulders, and deepened the kiss. He broke it off, resisting when she tried to push him backward to the infamous rug. She frowned at him.

“I didn’t come prepared, Audrey.” He sounded winded, his breathing harsh and uneven. “That was my only condom. And there’s something wrong with searching for another dude’s stash.” His words surprised another laugh from her. Just when she thought she had his personality down, he revealed another, more endearing quality than the previous one.

He looked like someone had killed his dog. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I’m on the pill,” she whispered against them. “I’m clean. And I want you. Now.”

He let out a breath. It fanned her face. His eyes darkened and heated, a combination she found sexier than hell. His hands came up to bracket her waist under her ribs.

He spoke, his voice gravelly. “I am, too.” His tongue slipped past her lips, tangling with her as it swept her mouth. He fell backward and she squealed. His body shook as he laughed. He slid his hands down her waist to her hips, adjusting their bodies so that she could take him in. She gasped as he filled her. She threw her head back, finding a rhythm that would assuage the need building within her.

His hands covered her breasts, molded them. “You feel so good,” he whispered as he continued to fondle them and stoke the flames within her. She leaned forward, wanting to feel his mouth on her, and he didn’t disappoint. He suckled one of her nipples and she cried out at the glorious sensation. She rocked her body in time to each draw of his mouth, until the tension inside snapped.

She cried out, riding wave after wave of pure pleasure until he arched one last time on a guttural groan, filling her with warmth. She collapsed on top of him. His arms wrapped around her tightly, holding her against his furiously beating heart. She drifted to sleep, safe in his embrace.