ELEVEN
H enner ripped his mouth away from May’s. But her plump lips beckoned him right back. “Fuck, I love kissing you.”
He lunged in again, claiming her in a long, tongue-teasing kiss that stretched on and on and on.
Passion ignited a fuse inside him—a slow burn at first though it was a bright flare shooting through his body. It was a quiet satisfaction, a humming that started low and grew in speed as it arced toward his chest.
Her breath quickened. His muscles grew taut with the energy thrumming through them. His cock surged with need, his balls full.
Again, he ripped his mouth free and stared down at her beautiful face, panting for control. “We have two boxes of condoms.”
Her lips twisted in a smile she was reluctant to give him, but once it started, she couldn’t stop.
She slipped her hand around his nape and jerked him back to her. The tip of her tongue teasing over his set his blood on fire. The rush of need stole the rest of his mind. All he could think about was getting both their clothes off.
In a series of rolls and the yanking of clothes, they managed to undress each other. Her silky fingers skimmed over his stiff cock for only a split second before he stopped her by sliding down her body.
He anchored her ankles over his shoulders and sank his tongue into her pussy.
A cry echoed around the room, and those nails dug into his shoulders—all but one nail. The one he saw her bite off in the car on the drive from the base.
He swirled his tongue inside her with an insatiable hunger before gliding the tip through her folds to her clit.
She bucked, arching, pleading for all he had to give.
He delivered it and more. Licking and thrusting his tongue and fingers inside her until her desire slicked his lips.
She bit back a cry, but he felt her stirring against him, restless and at the pinnacle of her release. When she choked on a louder cry, she bowed upward and came in a throbbing pulse.
Applying light pressure, he sucked and lapped her pussy, pushing her higher and longer until her legs quaked. When she collapsed to the bed, he caught her ass in the palms of his hands and slowly lifted his head.
Christ, that look on her face stole every thought but one: getting inside her.
Need pounded through him, an untamed force of nature that drove him to wrench one of those condoms over his cock and position himself at her core.
“May. I want you so damn bad.” He ground the words out through clenched teeth.
Her eyes softened into twin midnight pools. He melted into the depths as he sank inside her gripping heat.
She rocked into his thrust and locked her arms around him, dragging him close…closer…closer.
When their lips met, it was with the same softness he saw reflected in her eyes. What must be in his own? The tight hold this woman had on him right in this moment had to be clear on his face. He couldn’t mask it if he tried.
Nice and slow, he withdrew, dragging his length through her clenching inner walls. With each jerk of his hips, the world blurred. Everything dialed down to things he could feel—heat, the tight clench of her pussy and the sensation of her arms and legs wrapped around him.
This was the last thing he needed. He avoided women who might be looking for more from him. It was breaking all the rules.
But he couldn’t shove away the notion that May was getting to him—and not just driving him crazy with her fierce intelligence and the way she stood up to him. She was infiltrating his heart and soul.
Sex with May was beyond good. That had to be it.
When he stared down at her lovely face, her eyes were pinched shut in bliss as he drove her to a second orgasm. If he had his way, he’d keep her in this bed all night and through the next day.
Keep lying to yourself, Henner. Tell yourself that you’re only here because you like sliding inside her.
He liked being in her company. Talking to her. Arguing with her.
And he was growing very… very …protective of her.
He didn’t like leaving her alone on that base, and liked even less that she had been compromised, placed at risk. If anything had gone down with Simpson or the kid, Henner wouldn’t hesitate to take any action necessary to ensure May was safe.
Her breaths came faster. The sweet music blazed a path through his chest.
Perspiration glistened on the sweep of her flawless skin, and her rosy lips parted on a gasp that matched the tight grip of her pussy on his cock.
His length surged, his release suddenly seconds away. “May, look at me!”
Her eyes flew open and fixed on his. At the moment he watched her splinter for him, he let go too.
With hard, uncontrollable jerks, he came in violent spurts. The waves engulfed him and knocked him flat. He lost all sense of reality. The only thing that mattered right that moment…
Was in his arms.
Long moments throbbed by. Small aftershocks rolled through her like echoes of an earthquake. Though subtle, he recognized them for what they were.
More surprising, his own body responded with a sensation that lingered and refused to fade.
His muscles twitched with the faint reverberations of fading intensity.
Her fingers stroked a sinuous path down his spine, painting heat along his skin. When she clamped her hand on his hard ass, he released a low chuckle.
Warmth moved in the depths of her eyes. “AJ—”
The ring of an incoming call cut off whatever she was going to say and made him groan.
“At least we weren’t in the middle of sex.” He rolled off May and reached for his phone. Then realized he wasn’t receiving the call.
Swinging his attention to May sprawled naked on the bed, he said, “It’s your phone.”
Her lips formed an O of surprise, and she scrambled out of bed to search for her device. In a flurry of fabric, she rifled through her discarded clothes and finally located her phone three rings in. When she brought it to her ear, she kept her eyes on Henner. But her focus was on the speaker.
“Major General. What a surprise.” She zeroed in on Henner, her eyes wide.
Tension wove through every fiber of his muscles. His shoulders bunched as he braced for the impact of that call. As he listened, his jaw clenched until his teeth began to ache.
May’s breasts rose in a sharp heave as she inhaled. “Yes, of course. Thank you. We would love to come. If you can just text me your address… Yes, Shaw. Can’t wait.”
As soon as she ended the call, Henner pounced on her. Taking her by the shoulders, he stared into her eyes. “What the hell was that?”
She let her arm hang loose at her side, phone still clasped in her hand. In a daze. “Simpson invited us to dinner.”
“When?”
“Tonight.” She lifted the phone to glance at the time. “We need to get ready. He wants us there by seven.”
Seven o’clock was hours and hours away, wasn’t it? What the hell time was it? He peeked at her phone, astounded that so much time had passed since they arrived at the hotel. They’d been in bed for over an hour…yet it felt like he’d only had May in his arms for mere minutes.
He shot a look at the shopping bags. “I didn’t buy clothes for dinner. I only have a pair of black pants and a T-shirt.”
“I picked up a knit dress. I thought it might be comfortable for travel. It’s casual but will have to do.”
He rushed into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. Then he let her take the bathroom first to get ready while he paced to the window, far away from the bathroom so May wouldn’t overhear his call with Con.
But the call went to voicemail, leaving him time to stare out at the terrible view—scrubby bushes and a cracked parking lot filled with shoddy cars—and think up all the things that could go wrong at a dinner with a man who might suspect their reason for being on his base.
For a woman, May emerged in record time. He took in her flawless face. Her cheeks had a light flush that might be an afterglow from the two orgasms he gave her. Or it might be her emotions about going to Simpson’s home. Or it might just be blush.
She’d added lip gloss a shade darker than her natural rose lips and enhanced her eyes so her long lashes stood out.
The knit dress was simple. Minimal.
“ Now you pull out the understated dress.”
She rolled her eyes and breezed across the room to grab her boots. “Why do you always have some comment about my attire? I don’t mention your…your…” She realized he stood there in the buff.
Her eyes dipped over his chest and abs, lingered on his stiff cock for a moment. When she brought her focus back to his face, she let out a groan at the smirk he wore. Feeling the stroke that look gave to his ego, he strutted into the bathroom and hurried through a swift routine.
When he emerged, May stood there, barring his way. He took in the pinched expression she wore. “What’s wrong?”
She held up his phone. “Con’s on the line.”
He took the phone and brought it to his ear without shifting his attention from her.
“Listen up, Chickie. I need you to meet with one of ours.”
One of ours.
“Where?”
He recited the address, then continued, “He’s handing off some bugs, which you will be planting in Simpson’s home.”
He gave nothing away to May. She wouldn’t like what he was ordered to do, but she didn’t have a say in the matter. Obviously, Con—and the Blackout commander—had reason to suspect Simpson enough to surveille him.
“Copy that. We’re headed out now. I’ll be in touch when it’s done.”
The moment he lowered the phone from his ear, he took off across the hotel room in search of his forgotten boots.
May blocked his path. “What now?”
“May—”
“I’m not budging until you talk to me, AJ.”
As if he couldn’t make her move with a single well-placed stroke of his finger.
He responded with a short shake of his head. “I’ll tell you on the way. We don’t have any time to spare.”
* * * * *
As they pulled up in front of Major General Simpson’s house, May’s nerves hummed like she was electrified. She glanced across the front of the sprawling brick mansion with tall columns and manicured hedges that exuded old wealth.
“Looks like he earns a big paycheck…even for his rank,” AJ commented.
“He must come from old money. Families do.”
He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. She heard the accusations about her family friend in his silence.
Okay, she could understand what made AJ think that. The estate came with the kind of price tag that didn’t make sense for a man in the military, even one of Simpson’s rank.
And why would he need such a big home if he was divorced? She was certain his children were grown too.
The home was situated on several acres and was surrounded by wrought iron security gates. The curlicues and flourishes flanking each side of the curving driveway formed the letter S .
“Shaw Simpson,” she murmured under her breath.
AJ snorted quietly. “Full of himself.”
Irritation rolled through May. She hated how cynical AJ was about her old family friend. Her father trusted this man, and that counted for a lot in her view.
“Just park the car please. We’re already running late.”
He continued to roll at a slow pace down the winding driveway and parked in front of a five-car garage. “Looks like somebody is a car collector too.”
“So what? A lot of men are.” She glared. “Are you ever going to tell me why we made that stop on the way here? Or what that guy on the street gave you? Or what Con told you on the phone?”
He threw the vehicle in park and twisted toward her. His dark eyes gleamed with a warning.
For a moment, she didn’t know if he would answer her. The way he contemplated her for a long heartbeat both unsettled her and sent a spark of defiance through her.
“I don’t know how much to tell you. It’s easier to pull this off if you don’t know.”
“What exactly does that mean?” She folded her arms and scowled at him, aware that the clock on the dashboard already revealed they were three minutes late, and she knew from experience that military men despised tardiness. If the military was late, there would be chaos.
“It means,” AJ said slowly, “that I can be an actor or you can be an actor. But if we’re both acting, then one of us is bound to slip up. If that happens, our cover is blown.”
“You’re saying that if I’m ignorant of the plan, there’s no way I can trip you up.”
“Something like that.”
“Have a little faith in me, would you? I was on that base flanked by two men with plenty of cause to be suspicious of me, remember? I’m capable of pulling this off.”
His lips quirked at one corner, amusement she did not wish to see on his handsome face right now. Not when they were in the middle of an argument. Did he find her funny? Because she wasn’t in the least bit entertained.
“So you finally admit that Simpson might possibly be somebody other than the family friend buying all your tall tales?”
“God, you are an annoying man.”
“An annoying man who’s about to plant these”—he reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a handful of tiny listening devices—“in Simpson’s house.”
She blinked down at the small devices no larger than tiny insects. “You plan to play spy games while we pretend to eat dry roast, and you were going to leave me in the dark on this?”
“Are we having a roast?”
She unfolded her arms long enough to throw her hands in the air. “How would I know?”
He leaned over the console, bringing his spicy scent close enough to make her senses spin and his hard lips near enough to cause her insides to flutter.
“Planting bugs could be romantic, May.”
She darted a glance at his lips. “Oh yeah? How?”
“Because we’re doing it together.”
His words were low and gritty, not at all the kind of thing that would cause her to rock in her seat. But she had to grip the seat to remain in it—and not end up in AJ’s lap.
Kissing the hell out of him.
Rubbing against him.
“So now we’re in it together?” she challenged.
“I told you what you wanted to know, didn’t I?”
“Only after I forced you to.”
“No one can force me to do anything I don’t want to, darlin’.” He reached out and hooked his knuckle beneath her chin, catching her even more off guard. Tingles scattered through her lower belly…and kept on sinking oh so low between her legs.
“AJ.” She meant for her voice to sound like a warning, but it came out breathless.
He studied her face. “You know you love working with me.”
“If you mean I love sneaking around in the house of an old family friend, trying to distract him while you plant bugs to spy on him, then you’re wrong.” Her voice came out too husky. Too heated by the desire mounting in her core.
He stroked his fingertip under her chin in an infinitesimal caress, but her body ate it up. Desire arced through her at a high voltage.
She squeezed her thighs together and reached for the door handle. She had to get out of this car before she jumped his bones and to hell with the op.
She leaped out and didn’t take three steps before AJ was there, reaching out to take her by the hand. She tried to ignore the acceleration of her pulse when his warm, callused hand enveloped hers.
The way he shifted his shoulders as he led her to the big wood-and-glass double doors dripped with sexy confidence.
His posture…the way he moved…
Everything showed her that this man was a professional, already deep in the game.
May straightened her back and focused on what she needed to do. What began as a chance meeting when they ran into Simpson at the ball now felt dark and fraught with risk.
Simpson just extended a friendly dinner invitation to me because of his relationship with my family. Nothing deeper than that.
But she wasn’t stupid. Popping up at the ball, then at the base where Simpson was in command, did look a little fishy.
She and AJ came to a stop in front of the impressive doors and traded a look.
He extended a long finger and pressed the doorbell. In moments, the shadow of a form was visible behind the glass door, and then Simpson opened it to greet them with his usual reserved smile.
Out of uniform, he looked even more like the old friend she knew, the one who visited during summers to go fishing with her father. In fact, he lacked the formidable demeanor that came with the uniform.
“May! And Alfonso. So glad you made it.” He acted like his old self too as he leaned in to plant a peck on May’s cheek and grasped AJ’s hand in a handshake. “Come in. Care for a martini?”
Did she imagine that Simpson’s attention stayed on AJ when he offered them a drink? Back at the ball, both of them had only pretended to drink. Now there didn’t seem to be any getting out of it.
“I’d love one, thanks.” AJ’s carefree tone clued her in about the direction to take her role.
She relaxed and replied with enthusiasm that she could use a drink as well. She wasn’t lying either. A sip or three of alcohol would soothe her rattling nerves.
Once they had martinis in hand—shaken, not stirred—Simpson sank into an enormous leather armchair. May took the sofa across from him while AJ walked around the room, pretending to peruse the shelves of books that lined one entire wall.
May looked around. Everything about the major general’s home oozed money.
She struck up a conversation, offering a couple stories about her father and uncle she hoped would put the man more at ease. He engaged in the discussion with his old, familiar warmth.
She only prayed she distracted him from AJ’s movements. His back was to them as he faced the bookcase full of books and trinkets. May was careful to keep her eyes off him. Now was not the time to enjoy the view of his broad shoulders and carved planes of his back.
Or his ass…
Using his index finger, he drew a book off the shelf and turned the leatherbound volume over in his hands to read the cover.
“Do you read?” Simpson called out, including AJ in the conversation.
Or distracting him from planting that bug?
AJ half turned, a smile fixed on his rugged features. “I can read.”
They shared a laugh that sounded too forced to her ears as his little joke fell flat.
She jumped in by directing her attention to the floor. “What is this flooring, Shaw? It’s absolutely amazing.”
He turned his focus from AJ, who was still browsing the bookshelf, to what she guessed to be imported Italian flooring.
She was right.
She didn’t want to be right.
As Simpson gave her details about how he chose the flooring himself, she widened the scope of her attention to the rest of the space.
The place was filled with antiques and art.
She set aside her martini on a low table and got up, drifting toward a gallery wall filled with oil paintings. Though she pretended to be engrossed in the subject matter, it was the signatures she took the most interest in.
Her mind started reeling. But the paintings were nothing compared to what else the major general had in his collection.
When she strolled to a wooden pedestal that held a single sculpture in a place of importance, she almost choked on the bile rushing up her throat.
From the corner of her eye, she saw AJ lean close to the shelving, absorbed in his inspection of a modern sculpture comprised of carved links of a chain.
“Darling,” she called out softly.
AJ turned.
She smiled at him. “What do you think of that sculpture? Don’t tell me you want one for your study at home.” She threw an amused look at Simpson.
Returning her smile, AJ wandered over to her side. “I have a love for fine things.” He took her shoulders in his hands and stared deep into her eyes.
At first, she thought he might be playacting for Simpson’s sake, but then she caught the glimmer in the depths of those bright blue eyes—the same gleam she’d seen when he was moving inside her.
Simpson cleared his throat, breaking into their moment. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sit down with some good food and great company.”
Together, she and AJ swung to face their host. The man they were spying on.
Had AJ managed to plant any of those bugs?
She kept her eyes from wandering back to the chain sculpture and offered Simpson a smile. “I can’t wait to hear more about your beautiful home.”
As AJ passed by the side table, she saw him run his hand along the edge of the fine-grained dark wood before grabbing his untouched martini and following them to the dining room.
They finished the appetizer and were halfway through the main course before May’s nerves finally settled enough to ask about the art.
Lifting her crystal water goblet, she eyed Simpson. “My father never mentioned you were such a collector of art.”
He gave her a sharp look. Then he set aside his own water. “Ah, but I’ve forgotten—you have a degree in art history.”
She felt AJ’s stare on the side of her face but didn’t react. It wasn’t something the SEAL would know, but they were supposed to be married. He would know her whole life story.
She nodded toward the wall behind their host. “That watercolor is magnificent. Where did you ever find it?”
He leaned back in his chair, eyeing May. “One of the spoils of war.”
“Oh?”
He smiled. “I do a lot of traveling in the military. I’ve been stationed in Europe off and on for many years. You pick things up in junk stores.”
She nodded at him as if she knew exactly what he was talking about. But she didn’t. She couldn’t see how the hell this man was ever able to amass such a collection of art and sculpture. Even if they were knockoffs, the sum just didn’t make sense with his salary.
“Do you have more art around your home? If so, I’d love to see.”
He agreed to give them a tour, and they all pushed back from the table. She glanced down at their plates. “Can I help you clear this away?”
Simpson waved a hand. “No need to trouble yourself. My housekeeper will be around to take care of it.”
Housekeepers and art and fine Italian tile floors. Where was he getting all this money?
During the short tour of the kitchen where Simpson showed off his marble countertop, her senses crackled.
She became hyperaware of every move AJ made. When he ran a hand across the counter. When he stroked a finger along the intricate dentil molding of an alcove where yet another sculpture stood in the soft ring of some mood lighting.
“May?” Simpson’s voice broke into her thoughts.
She turned to him. “Yes?”
“You’ve been quiet. Everything all right?”
“Yes.” She pressed her fingertips into her temple. “Just a little headache.”
AJ’s hand was suddenly planted on her spine, his touch solid and comforting in her moment of need.
“You’ve had a long day, sweetheart. Maybe we should head back to the hotel?”
She nodded and reached out to embrace her family’s old friend, Shaw Simpson, in farewell. When she drew away, she felt more than a little off-balance, sure of only one thing.
This man was not the person she thought she knew.