Chapter Thirty-Seven
Phoenix
Jealousy bled from her swollen lips. “Did you ask the other woman you were with tonight to do something for you? Did you give her a nickname too?”
I could’ve eased her concern.
Instead, I drove two fingers into her wet cunt and twisted.
Her animalistic groan matched the violent jerk of her body. Arching away as her hips bore down, she gripped my wrist. “Stop.”
“Do you have a safe word, ma petite intruse?” Intentionally using what was no longer a nickname but a goddamn obsession, I stilled my hand.
She ineffectively pulled on my wrist. “That’s not stopping.”
“Is that what you’re choosing?” I feathered my middle finger.
Her eyes briefly closed, and for two beats, she didn’t react. Then her chest rose, her expression morphed to righteousness, and she laid into me. “Stop. Is not. A fucking safeword. It is a right. Remove your hand.”
“As you wish.” Slowly, so she would feel it, I slid my fingers out.
Then I deliberately wiped across her lips as I issued an order.
“Don’t move.” Leaning over her, I brought my mouth to hers.
“Not if you want me to make you come.” I swiped my tongue across the mess I’d just left, then I was out of the bedroom.
With my precum and her desire soaking the front of my pants, and the taste of her cunt in my mouth, I double-timed it down the stairs. Grabbing the stack of hundreds from her tactical pack, I was back upstairs, striding into the bedroom, dialing out on my work cell in less than thirty seconds.
Meeting her gaze that was equal parts fury and lust drunk, I waited for the call to go through as I took in her position.
My little trespasser hadn’t moved.
Cypher answered on the fourth ring. “You’re turning into a bad habit tonight.”
“Need you to run these serial numbers.”
“Of?” Cypher asked as my intruse stared at me, legs still spread.
“C-notes.” I glanced at the first bill, read off the number, then riffled through enough to see that they were consecutive before giving him the last number.
“Ninety-five total, serials sequential.” I looked back at the woman I’d unlawfully detained a second time and gave Cypher an order. “Track them.”
“Origin or owner? These the bills the woman has on her?”
“Both and yes.”
“Roger that. Hold.” Cypher typed. Then he swore.
“Bank around the corner from the hotel. Withdrawal after a transfer from an offshore account two days ago. All other digital intel wiped, including the security cams during the time of the transaction. This is becoming a fucking theme. No way to even tell which teller it was, not without canvasing the bank employees. Even then you won’t get credible intel for an ID. ”
“Copy. Does the bank have a parking lot?”
The little intruse closed her legs and looked out at the dark ocean.
“Affirmative,” Cypher replied. “And I already know where you’re going with this. Running plates from the bank parking lot during the time of the transaction against that footage from the hotel valet…. It’s a match. Same rental associated with Stanton was at the bank.”
Stanton—alias—was her brother, and he’d given her the money. I’d confirm it with her, ideally before I fucked her, but I was sure I was right. “Good copy.”
“Anything else?” Cypher asked.
“Negative.” Ending the call, I pocketed my cell and waited.
She turned her head and looked at me.
When I didn’t react, she raised an eyebrow.
Cataloging every damn inch of her, ignoring the erratic rhythm my heart beat each time I looked at her, I assessed. Then I went at her as the operator I was trained to be, asking a question I already knew the answer to. “Did your brother give you the ten grand?”
As skilled as any intelligence agent, she both evaded the question and put it back on me.
“You tell me. You’re the one who accused me of being a prostitute.
” Pushing herself up the bed until she was leaning against the headboard, she crossed an arm over her breasts but gestured toward the suite with the other. “For all I know, you’re projecting.”
“Clever.” I’d give her that. “Ask what you want to know, intruse. Don’t turn shy on me now.”
“Who’s Maila?”
I took no satisfaction in the undisguised jealousy in her tone. “My sister.”
She blinked. Then a glimpse of the woman she was, the shy submissive she usually hid, came out. “She’s very beautiful.”
“You’re stunning and have my attention.” Unfortunate for her.
Her face flushed, but she wisely ignored my statement. “Your sister was angry with you.”
I didn’t question how a woman who carried a journal for other people’s thoughts could discern the emotional state of others.
Intelligence training aside, I recognized an observer when I met one.
“My sister has every right to be angry with me. Today was the first time she’d seen me in a decade. Are you ready to talk about you?”
I’d lied to Helios earlier. I hadn’t known who the sniper was before, not with one hundred percent certainty. Now that I had confirmation it was her brother, I’d put a few crucial details together.
This little intruse had skills, but no one was stealth enough to avoid my security cameras on the Antibes estate for two months.
Cypher was right. This was a theme. Sniper, hacker, brother—all the same person.
Her brother was erasing her digital footprint.
Protective behavior, yes. But the much more plausible reason would be her brother’s profession.
Independent contractor, Agency, or a JSOC SMU. I hadn’t decided which.
Merc for hire would be a problem. So would SAC if he was Ground Branch, but on a different level. And if he was active duty with one of the Special Mission Units, then it’d be a serious problem.
Ignoring my last question, her face fell. “I’m sorry I interrupted your dinner.”
The unfiltered reaction, her expression, the apology—they confirmed my suspicion she hadn’t planned tonight, but that didn’t mean her brother hadn’t.
“I interrupted yours, and if I’d wanted my sister to stay, I would’ve given her a compelling reason to.
” I would’ve told Maila my plan. Which would’ve complicated matters more than the naked intruse in front of me.
Not that Isla Sennan wasn’t a dangerous complication.
The intersection of our two worlds was problematic at best, and the timing absolute shit. But the threat to my plan? That was a risk assessment I should’ve had handled before I’d walked into this suite.
Because now I was staring down at a trespasser, waging the hardness of my cock against consequences.
Against how much I wanted to fuck this woman.
Never mind the fact that somewhere between her trespassing onto my estate, stripping in front of Helios, and bending under my interrogation, a switch had flipped.
The little intruse I’d been obsessing over for the past month had gone from trespasser to mine.
All fucking mine—except I didn’t do ownership, couldn’t afford the distraction, was on a timeline, and I had a far greater mission.
But the tenure of possessing this woman was already playing on repeat in the fucked-up depths of my depraved mind, and I was stacking justifications like rounds in a magazine. Shoving each excuse into a compartmentalized chamber, they slammed against my new bar for reason.
I was trained to infill deeply complex and chaotic situations and perform.
I’d walked into firefights unarmed.
I’d absorbed the ripple of battle.
I’d spent a decade eliminating the world’s worst terrorists.
I saw through the dark because I was the darkness.
This woman, I could handle.
My justifications fully fucking loaded, I slammed my proverbial magazine home like my axiomatic reasonings were gospel and racked the slide. Then I aimed at my other problem.
I’d never get enough of this intruse in only forty-eight hours.
But I needed at least that to execute my plan, and detaining her while I did so would mitigate risk.
Not to mention, two nights fucking her would give me ample opportunity to interrogate her further on any intel I needed.
Lastly, if Conlon was right about a former SEAL gunning for me, and if her brother had been on the Teams, this would give him time to make a move.
Which brought me full circle. “Who’s your brother, Isla?”
“Why did you kidnap me again?”
I didn’t play into her only hand. “This is a tired conversation, intruse. You have two choices.”
She tried to throw attitude, but naked on my bed, her smirk landed short. “Where have I heard that before? Should I get on my knees now?”
“If that’s how you prefer to answer the question.” I’d accommodate.
She rose to said knees.
Then my little trespasser played with fire.
Dropping to all fours, she prowled across the bed like a goddamn seductress.
“You’re right, William Phoenix Nilsen Erikson.
” Grabbing my tie one-handed, she pulled herself up as she walked her fingers up my chest. Then she angled her face against my neck, licked my throat just above my collar and whispered, “This conversation is tired.”
I held still. “Are you asking to be fucked, ma petite intruse?”
“Would that be bad?”
“Very.” She was one second away from losing her agency again. Only this time, I would be keeping it.
“Then yes.” She greenlit me. “I’m asking to be fucked.”
Like a man possessed, I moved.