Chapter 2
The next morning Chaya met with the team that had been pulled in to work the investigation Cranston had managed to get operational status for.
The six men were older, late thirties to early forties, and would blend in well. Their various covers worked for the area and would provide rationale for their seeming nosiness.
That would work in her favor, Chaya thought as she headed back to her room after the first, early morning meeting. They would gather bits and pieces of the gossip drifting around about the events of last year, and then Cranston could begin a list of persons of interest and the questions Chaya would ask.
They were working in the blind though, and she knew it. The problem was they had been working in the blind for five years. It had to end here. She just couldn’t do this much longer. The reason she was back this time was Cranston’s bribes. Her resignation was still awaiting the stamp of approval.
Gritting her teeth at the thought of Cranston dragging his feet on her resignation, she swiped her key card through the security pad and waited for the light to flicker to green before pushing the door open and stepping through.
She allowed the door to close slowly behind her. She shrugged her jacket from her shoulders, unclipped the holstered weapon she carried just behind her hip and smoothed her free hand down the side of her skirt. She wished she had worn jeans.
She dropped the jacket and weapon on the table, just inside the small suite, then turned and moved for the bedroom. The door was open, and when she stepped inside, she felt her heart catch in her throat.
Natches.
She swallowed tightly as she caught sight of him, sprawled out in the easy chair by the window, long jean-clad legs stretched out before him as his hand lifted.
She felt the flush that suffused her features as she saw the heavy, latex vibrator in his hand. The molded penis was her toy of choice, especially when visions of this man drove her crazy with need.
She hadn’t managed to get over him, no matter how hard she tried.
Swallowing tightly she watched as he tilted the erotic toy toward his face and inhaled slowly.
She swore her knees nearly went out from beneath her, and arousal, sharp and hot, shot through her core.
“You amaze me,” he said then, reaching out to lay the toy on her pillow. That wasn’t where he had gotten it from. “You bring a toy to do a man’s job, knowing the man is more than willing to provide the service. Where does that make sense, Chay?”
She braced one hand on her hip, the other on the doorframe and stared back at him, forcing her features to bland interest even though she knew she was eating him with her eyes.
“Considering the fact that the man offering comes with strings, I decided it was the safer option.”
He would always demand more from a woman than was comfortable. More than Chaya had been able to consider in the past years.
He chuckled at that, his forest green eyes roving over her, taking in the skirt, the silk shell she had worn beneath her blazer, and the pumps on her feet.
Maybe she should have worn stockings rather than panty hose? She had a feeling he knew exactly what she had on beneath her skirt.
“Everything in life comes with strings, darlin’.” He shrugged and looked entirely too comfortable in that chair.
Shaking her head, Chaya stalked across the room, not thinking—she never thought when it came to Natches—to jerk the incriminating dildo from her pillow.
“Oh, you didn’t do that.” He laughed. It was the only warning she had before he was behind her, one arm going around her waist, the other catching her wrist and the toy as he rolled her to her back.
Her little screech didn’t even slow him down. His legs trapped hers as he came over her, and he ignored her hands as she pushed at his hard stomach.
She could have made him let her go. She knew how. But God, she couldn’t consider it. Besides the fact he would find a way to block her, she had no doubt in her mind that he would come up with a way to make certain she regretted it.
“These games are beneath you, Natches,” she snapped, wishing she didn’t sound so breathless.
“No, the games aren’t, but you are.” His brows arched, a smile curved his lips and humor flashed with suspicion in his gaze. A gaze turning hot with arousal as she glimpsed the thick wedge at the front of his jeans.
“Let me go, Natches.”
He lifted the dildo and stared down at her. “How do you use it?”
Her flush became hotter. “Duh. Figure it out.”
He leaned closer, his lips turning into a wicked smile now. “Do you suck it first? Do you taste yourself on it and remember how much I loved going down on you and tasting all that hot cream?”
That hot cream as he called it was flooding her vagina, saturating her panties. Was there anything more wicked than this man? Anything that tempted her past her pain more than he did?
“You’re insane,” she whispered, weak now. She could feel the weakness flooding her, the need. The need that had forced her to use that toy just that morning.
“When you suck it, do you think of me?”
She fought to breathe as he brushed the head of the toy over her cheek.
“Let me watch you use it.”
Shock rounded her eyes, had her fighting to swallow.
“Are you crazy?”
“Oh yeah. Because the minute it sinks past those pretty pink lips I’m going to remember the feel of your mouth on my dick. I might come in my jeans. I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”
Her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive now, the nipples pressing hard into her bra and the thin material of the top.
“Come on; let me see.” He smiled, so wicked, so erotic, as he brushed it against her lips. “Let me see and remember, Chay. Just for a minute.”
She knew better. She had known better than to return to Somerset. The minute she did, she knew exactly what Natches was going to do: He would destroy her with her own desires.
Her lips parted.
A tight, erotic grimace contorted his lips as he stared down at her, at the toy within touching distance of her lips, and sparks of anger filled his gaze.
The next second it was his tongue filling her mouth. His lips covering hers. She didn’t know what he did with the toy; she didn’t care. He was kissing her again. He was possessing her lips, eating at them, and she was eating back.
He always tasted so good, so dark and male. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers spearing into his hair as she felt him jerking her skirt over her thighs, his fingers pressing her legs apart.
He was going to take her. She could feel it. She wasn’t going to escape this time. Last year he had been kind, even for him, and let her go. This time, he wasn’t letting her go.
“Natches.” She breathed his name out in protest as he tore his lips from hers, pressed kisses along her neck, moved to the heaving mounds of her breasts.
Her nipples ached for him. For his mouth, his tongue.
“I should spank you,” he growled. “Damn you, Chay. You knew better than to come back here. I know you did.”
Yes, she had, and she’d had no choice but to return. But she would have anyway. She knew she would have, because the fight to stay away from him had been too hard. It had been more than she could bear.
One more assignment. Just this last operation and then—they would have time then. Not now.
She shook her head as she arched to him. Now wasn’t the time. She couldn’t divide her attention like this. She would end up getting killed.
His mouth buried between her breasts, his tongue licking, stroking as she moaned his name. She needed. Just one more taste of him, then she would be strong.
“Damn you.” Suddenly, his head jerked up. “Why are you here, Chay?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t drawing him in to this. It wasn’t happening.
“Just questions,” she panted. “Follow-up. I have to follow up.”
She was going to have to do some heavy talking if he ever found out where those questions would lead.
“Liar.” The accusation was soft, wickedly knowing. “You can’t lie to me, Chay.”
He pressed her legs apart with his and the toy; he still had that damned toy. He stroked it over the damp cotton that shielded her from him.
“Let’s play a game,” he whispered. “I ask a question, you tell the truth, and I give you something you’ll really like.”
“Kiss me, Natches.”
As he had once bragged, his kisses were potent.
He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers.
“Scared?” he asked softly, his eyes knowing.
“Let me get drunk on you,” she urged. “Just kiss me.”
“Just kiss you?” The head of the toy pressed more firmly against her hungry core. “But, Chay, you’re so wet and so wild beneath me. Let’s play my little game first.”
She arched and cried out as he pulled back.
“First question.” He licked over the top of a breast revealed by the material he nudged lower with his chin. “Did DHS send you here?”
Okay, that one was easy.
“Yes,” she answered carefully.
A soft approving murmur against the curve of her breast and he was nudging the cup of her bra lower to lick at her nipple. Heat sizzled in her veins and sent her hips thrusting, grinding against the toy he held pressed to her panties.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Am I involved?”
Was he? She didn’t think he was. He shouldn’t be. She could be honest there.
“No.” She lifted her hips again, wanting more. Damn him, she was honest. Reward time here.
He nipped at her nipple and nearly sent her into orgasm.
“Why are you here?”
Her lips parted to answer, to spill her guts just for another taste of the pleasure he could give her.
“Follow-up.” She moaned.
“Hmm, Chay, my little liar.” He pulled the toy back. “Come on, baby; fess up.”
Her eyes opened as she stared back at him, aching, hurting for him.
“Follow-up,” she repeated, the tormented whisper dragged from her throat. “It’s the only reason I’m here.” And it was partially the truth. Enough of the truth, and all he needed to stay safe.
He knelt above her. She watched hungrily as, tossing the toy aside, he loosened his belt, unsnapped his jeans, then lowered the zipper slowly. She licked her lips, her hands poised to help him, to catch the heavy length of his erection when it was free. To taste it. To fill her mouth with it.
“Why are you here, Chay?” She barely missed the hardening of his voice.
“Follow-up.” She felt dazed, off balance, impatient. Like an addict anticipating a fix.
And just that fast he rolled away from her, moved to his feet, and was fixing his jeans, his expression still, silent with anger.
Damn. There went the fix. Her body was screaming out in protest, reminding her how mean she was being to it. How long had it been now since she had known his possession? Five years, two months, three days, and how many hours, she thought morosely.
“I guess that means I don’t get any more rewards.” She sighed as she adjusted her skirt and top. She didn’t bother to roll from the bed. “Lock the door behind you if you don’t mind. I may need some privacy after you leave.”
He glared at her. The next thing she knew, the thin cord was jerked from the base of the dildo and as she watched in horror, he tore it in half.
“Oh my God. Natches, you didn’t do that.”
“If you need privacy, then by God you can make do with your fingers. That’s what you’ve reduced me to.” He tossed the pieces to the floor. “When you’re ready to tell me the fucking truth, you know where to find me.”
With that, he stalked out of the room. She stared at the floor in disbelief then at the door as the echo of the main door slamming penetrated her mind.
He broke her toy and left?
She was going to kill him.