Chapter 11
Wave after wave of emotion flowed over Dallas, driving him mad. He was furious that Gemma had been used and manipulated, that she’d been alone and scared and held under the CIA’s control for six years. He tucked her foot back under the covers then crawled up the mattress and stretched out beside her.
No wonder she’d always been so touchy when it came to getting close to her.
Any sign of something more than physical and she’d run, only to return when she needed sexual satisfaction. Now, he didn’t see it as a personal punishment. She’d been trying to protect herself, and him, in a life she couldn’t escape.
But now she could. If he could make her believe she wasn’t alone anymore.
Gemma turned to face him as he stayed elevated on his elbow.
“It fucking kills me that for almost the whole time we’ve been together, you’ve been in this situation,” he said, bringing his knuckles to the tiny hairs at her temple and smoothing them away. “I’m sorry I didn’t push you more then to find out. I thought you were just... this elusive, sexy being, and I’m not going to lie—it was fun.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, but sadness crossed her eyes. “Like I said, who wouldn’t want sex with no strings attached?”
He slid his palm over her cheek, cupping the delicate skin. “It all makes sense now. Why I couldn’t find a damn thing on you—”
She sat up. “Wait, what?”
Ah, shit.
“Like a background check? How on earth were you able to do that?”
He scratched his neck. After the day of utter peril at their heels, he’d forgotten how limited their conversations had been. She really didn’t know fuck all about him or his brothers. Trying to figure out how to put their “unusual” resources into words made his throat dry. “To be honest, babe, there’s not much I can’t do.”
One eyebrow swooped up. “As in?”
“Background checks, bank-account records—”
She gasped. “Is that how you found me at the hotel?”
Rubbing the scruff on his jaw with his fingertips, he nodded. “Yeah.”
She smacked his shoulder, and then confusion puckered her brow. “I used an alias that the CIA gave me. You couldn’t possibly—”
“Facial recognition.”
She reared back an inch and shook her head. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”
“Yeah, well. You kept me at arm’s length for five years,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
She held out her hand. “No, I get that. There’s a lot I didn’t tell you, too. I’m just... it’s wild. Not many people have access to things like that unless they’re, like, the government.”
“Powerful companies do as well.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to go down that route.”
He pulled her hand into his and stroked her knuckles. “I wouldn’t have lied to you five years ago had we been up-front, and I won’t lie to you now. I’m involved in dangerous shit. That’s why I haven’t held down a relationship. My brothers are just as bad, if not worse. So if you want nothing to do with me, I understand.”
Her face softened. “I didn’t say that. It’s just a lot to absorb.”
Her hand stayed firmly in his. The fact that she wasn’t pushing him away eased some of the tension in his body. He tugged her back down to the mattress. “Will you let me help you?”
She wet her lips, her expression tight and tentative. “How?”
“Get you out of this alive, for one. Two”—he brought his palm to the outside of her knee, well below her injury—“let me take care of your wound. And three, ensure the CIA stays the hell away from you.”
She brought her hand to his cheek. “You’re not a superhero.”
He caught her wrist. His mouth itched to kiss her palm, but he held back. He’d just unloaded a lot of dirt, and while she didn’t seem terrified, she might run for the hills when all this was done.
“Never said I was. But I can promise those three things.”
Her cerulean-blue eyes shined with warmth and gratitude. Her eyelashes flicked over her cheeks on a blink, and it took every ounce of control in his body not to lean down and kiss her.
“Thank you,” she said, her tone feathery. A note of huskiness pulled down the words, making desire scorch his skin.
Her hand slid to the back of his neck, and she pulled his lips down to hers. Desire strummed his nerve endings as he balanced his weight on his hands so as not to crush her. The faint taste of tomato soup from their dinner hit his lips, tangy with a hint of her sweetness. Her tongue eased between his teeth, and his dick throbbed with need.
Her fingers toyed with the nape of his neck, and he met each stroke of her tongue with his. Heat blazed beneath his skin. Pressure built against the wall of his chest.
He needed more of her.
Gemma tasted like sin and bad decisions—a flavor he couldn’t run from if his life depended on it. He brought his hand to her waist. Too much damn material covered her flesh.
She wiggled against him, and he shifted so he could nestle his hips between her thighs. Her arms closed around his neck. Her tongue massaged his mouth earnestly and the warmth of the apex between her legs touched his groin, driving him wild.
Not breaking the kiss, he moved his fingers beneath her shirt onto the cool, smooth skin of her abdomen. He slid his fingers up to her bare breast. Circling the satiny globe with his palm, he swiped the pad of his thumb over her nipple.
The little bud responded, puckering into a hard nub.
She gasped and her legs tightened around him. “Ah, my god,” she said, between kisses.
Her hand pushed between their bodies, and she shimmied her fingers into the waistline of his briefs. Her soft palm touched his cock and his eyes rolled back behind his lids.
He moved his mouth from her lips to her jaw, kissing down her neck. The neckline of her shirt—his shirt—stopped him. He needed to get her naked. Now.
He reached for the bottom of the shirt, but she sat up, pulled both shirts over her head, and tossed them aside. Her breasts jiggled with the movement—pink-tipped softness that made his mouth water.
“Now you,” she said.
After fisting his hand into the cotton at the back of his neck, he hefted off his shirt in one swoop. Her hands went for his abdomen, and he jumped and caught her wrists. “Easy. Your hands are cold.”
She chuckled and shook free from his grip then caught the front of his pants. “You didn’t say that a minute ago.”
“Honey, I don’t give a damn how cold your hands are if you’re touching my cock.”
Her mouth lifted on a chuckle. Her dark braid lay over her shoulder, her breasts were thrust forward, and her gaze was tethered to his. Her eyes blazed blue fire and goddammit, just looking at her made his chest constrict. He caught the waistband of her yoga pants and peeled them down her legs.
She giggled at his urgency.
“There. That’s better.” He brought his hands to her knees, and his palms traveled up the lustrous path of her skin.
She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip and caught his biceps. “You still have pants on.”
“If I take them off this will be over way too fast.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips then dipped his head to take one strawberry-colored nipple into his mouth.
Gemma arched her back, her nails digging into his muscle. Her chest quivered beneath him as he circled his tongue over her delicious flesh. One of her hands swept up to his head and caught his hair.
His cock twitched in his pants, needing to be inside her more than he needed oxygen. Dallas broke away from her breast and kissed his way down her abdomen. Her legs squirmed against him, and her fast little inhales echoed through the plane.
“Now, Dallas. I can’t wait.”
“Mmm.” No surprise there. Whenever Gemma had shown up for sex over the years, she’d been hot and heavy and ready to go. And usually, he was a man starved, too insane with lust to do anything but fuck her against the wall or rip off her panties and do it over the couch. “Not this time.”
She made a sound of protest, but he brought his hand to the mound between her legs. Closing his palm over her sex, he let out a growl. God, he wanted her as bad as she wanted to come, but there was no way he was enrolling in another closet quickie.
“Dallas, please.” Her voice broke.
He dragged his fingers over her wet folds and her shoulders trembled. He brought two fingers to her opening and pushed them inside. She gasped. Wetness coated his fingers, and the walls of her pussy clenched around his digits, reminding him just how damn tight she was.
He lifted his gaze to watch her face. Her head tilted back, giving him a view of the long column of her neck, her full lips open on a moan, and her eyelashes kissing her cheeks. Christ.
Her fingers stayed looped around his neck as her panting grew heavier. “Oh, god. Don’t stop.”
“Not a chance.” His mouth went dry with need.
Her tissue pulsed around his fingers and her wetness became thicker.
“Dallas,” she wheezed. “Oh, my god.”
He continued a steady rhythm, and her hips bucked to match his penetration. She cried out again, and her body shook on a violent orgasm. He brought his lips to hers, unable to avoid the temptation of tasting her again.
She held his neck steady and bit down on his bottom lip as the waves of her orgasm ceased.
The metallic taste of blood touched his tongue and, without missing a beat, he pulled his hands away from her sex and shucked his pants. He settled between her parted thighs and plunged deep inside her into pure nirvana.
***
Gemma clung toDallas as he filled her, his grith spreading her heat and stretching her. A torrent of pleasure seized her limbs, locking her around his body. Her legs still trembled from her last orgasm, but a second one was already building.
She closed her eyes as Dallas’s scent surrounded her. Warm, familiar, masculine, and oh so intoxicating. The heady cedar was like a balm on her bruised nerves.
His weight rocked against her, and his shaft struck her clit with each motion. Her walls tightened as every cell in her body vibrated with pleasure. Ecstasy pervaded her veins and she pumped her hips again, driving him deeper.
Dallas let out a curse as his biceps locked around her shoulders. He buried his face against her throat, and his breath scalded her skin. He slipped his tongue over her neck, and the sensation curled her toes and sent her spiraling into another orgasm.
Her folds contracted, squeezing every inch of him as her release spun colors behind her closed lids. Dallas’s thrusts became more feverish. He pumped inside her in one long stroke after another.
“Christ, Gemma.” He jerked, and every muscle in his body coiled.
His rhythm slowed and he nuzzled her neck. Then his lips found hers, and he kissed and sucked on her lazy, sated mouth.
Her body zinged in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
Oh shit.
No, no, no. She wasn’t making love. Just having sex. The reliable, knock-your-socks-off, fucked-sideways, heart-stopping sex that Dallas guaranteed. That’s why she ensured he was the only man who delivered her orgasms. Once a year.
That’s so messed up.
Dallas pulled away carefully and reached for the box of tissues that Gemma had taken out of the trunk earlier. He passed her some and cleaned himself.
They hadn’t even used a condom. Pregnancy was one thing she didn’t want to risk at this time. Especially with Dallas. That was a surefire way to kill their hot sex.
“We should be more careful,” she said softly.
He massaged his forehead and grimaced. “I... uh. Shit. I’m sorry.”
He balled up the tissue and took hers from her hand then tossed them in the garbage bag near the bed. He pulled on his briefs and then his pants, all his glorious man-muscles flexing and on display. He handed over her clothes then finished dressing.
“Don’t be silly. It’s my responsibility too.” She pulled on the shirt he’d given her then scooted into her underwear and pants and got under the blankets.
“I didn’t use one in the closet either.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I mentioned it. Usually we do.”
He lifted the blanket and got under next to her. “I always wear condoms. So you have nothing to worry about as far as cleanliness. I just... don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation. Are you on anything?”
Seconds ticked by. Well, this was awkward. “No.”
He stiffened but slid his arms around her, and she cuddled to his side. “No, huh?” His tone lacked judgment. “I guess that’s what condoms are for.”
She licked her lips, and heat settled into her cheeks. He probably had a different girl in his bed every night of the week, but she didn’t bother with birth control because there was only one man she let herself get entangled with.
“You’re quiet.” Dallas shifted and glanced down at her. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just... I don’t worry about using birth control because I don’t...” She cleared her throat. “Uh, sleep around.”
The air turned thick. “You mean to tell me that you don’t have casual sex between our yearly activity?”
She winced and squinted at him. “No...”
Dallas whistled. “Damn. I didn’t see that coming.”
She shot up to lean on his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He held his free hand up in surrender. “Nothing at all. Except I took you for a very sexual woman and figured you had a string of guys panting behind you.”
She screwed her lips to the side and lowered herself back down. “Well, I don’t. Not like you do.”
“Hey, I never said I didn’t.”
She poked him in the ribs.
He flinched and caught her hand. “Didn’t say I liked any of them very much.” His words fell into the space around them.
So he liked her very much? Interesting.
His hand moved up and down her bicep. “I’ve got condoms in my bag. We’ll use them from now on, okay?”
She nodded, but a knot of uncertainty filled her belly. Yes, she wanted to be responsible. No, she didn’t want a baby at this point in her life. But being intimate with Dallas, feeling every ridge and swell of his manhood—it was a closeness she’d craved since their escapade in the closet.
“We should get some sleep,” she said.
He shuffled into a sitting position. “We will. After you let me check out that leg.”
She groaned and pulled the covers to her chin. “It’s too cold. Let’s do it in the morning.”
Dallas stood and grabbed the first aid kit then lowered back down to the mattress. “That’s a good way to risk an infection.”
“I just got dressed,” she whined. But as if on cue, her wound began to throb.
He lifted the bottom of the blanket, exposing her legs. Before he could strip her from the waist down, she huffed and sat up. After wriggling out of her pants, she turned her leg so he had a view of the outside of her thigh.
He tsked. “Blood came through the bandage.”
“I mean, I did jump out of a plane and walk through the jungle all day.”
“Yeah, you did,” he said, his tone pensive.
He unrolled the gauze and peeled off the strip closest to the wound. She winced as her skin stuck to the bandage. “Ouch.”
“Sorry.” His warm hand pressed against her skin as he examined the gash.
Blood was crusted around the area, but the stitches were still in place.
“Looks pretty good considering,” Dallas said. “No sign of infection. We need to clean it again though.” He pulled out a tube of ointment.
“Should we get the stitches wet?”
“Yeah, they’ve been in almost twenty-four hours, and ointment will keep infection away.” He took out a cotton swab and dabbed the ointment over and around the thread holding her skin together. Next, he took out fresh gauze and rebandaged the area.
He slapped her knee. “Good as new.”
She fit her legs back in her pants. “It does feel better actually.”
“Good.” He put the first aid kit up to its spot on the wall and scooted under the covers with her. “Now we can go to sleep.”
He stretched out his arm and clicked off the lantern. Darkness sealed itself around them, and her heart stalled.
In the plane’s silence, the din of the Amazon grew deafening. She burrowed into Dallas’s side, and he folded her into his arms.
The steady rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his breathing finally tugged her into a restless sleep.