Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“What do I think of my new partner? Agent Stone is intense, driven, and calculated. He would make for one very dangerous enemy.” – Emerson Marlowe, on day one of her partnership with Gray Stone
He should have control.
He should seduce. He should tempt. He should caress every single inch of her. Treat her like a queen.
Not pounce on her like?—
Like I want to do.
He was screwed. Gray shook his head.
Her hand tightened on the cover she’d just dropped. “Gray? Is there a problem?”
His dick shoved against the front of his pants. “Yeah.”
“I-I thought you wanted me.”
“That is not our problem. Will never be our problem.” Not in a million years.
Her tongue skated across her lower lip. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Trying not to pounce.”
She leaned forward. Her beautiful breasts did the best jiggle in the entire world. “Why not? I would love for you to pounce. Consider this your pouncing all clear.”
Fuck. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Why? I’ve been wishing for you since the first day we became partners. Seems to be working out so far.”
He was her wish? Seriously? In what screwed-up universe? “Try to remember you said that.” A nod. Then he began to unbutton his shirt.
Her gaze fell to his chest. Her eyes widened. That cute, little pink tongue of hers came out again. Her nipples were hard. Tight. He wanted them in his mouth. Wanted his mouth back between her legs as she cried out for him and pleasure made her whole body tremble.
He’d like more of that, hell, yes.
He popped a button off the shirt in his haste.
She gasped. Her eyes rose to lock with his. Her lips curved into the faintest grin. “Oh, no. Not your fancy shirt. You lost a button. However will you recover?”
He threw the shirt. Kicked out of his shoes and ditched his dress socks. “Emerson, don’t make me spank you.”
“Why not? Could be fun.”
Everything stopped. Every fucking thing. She was teasing him. Flirting. Playing.
He wasn’t. “You should…be careful.” A gritted warning.
Only Emerson was not careful. She slipped from the bed.
Naked. Her body driving him crazy. She crept toward him.
Stopped right in front of Gray. “I’m always careful,” she confessed.
“All the time. With everyone.” Her hands rose.
Went to the waistband of his pants. Undid his belt.
Pulled it out from the loops. Let it fall.
“With you, care and control aren’t what I want.
Like you told me, let’s stop thinking.” She unbuttoned his pants.
Lowered the zipper. Shoved down the pants and his boxers, and she dropped to her knees with them.
“Let’s feel.” Her fingers curled around his dick.
She brought the thick head toward her mouth. Blew lightly over it.
His feet pressed harder against the floor. “ Emerson .”
She opened her mouth and took his dick inside.
His hands clamped around her shoulders. She was hesitant. Careful, taking just the head. Licking him. Rubbing that sweet, sweet tongue against him, and then Emerson opened her mouth wider. She pumped the base of his dick with her hand and took more of him inside.
Yeah. I’m done.
His control ripped to shreds. He lifted her up even as he kicked away his pants and boxers.
“Gray? Did I—did I do something wrong?”
Hell, no. Too right.
He dropped her onto the bed. Yanked open the bottom drawer of his nightstand and had a condom out of that drawer and on in record time. Then he was climbing onto the bed. Pushing her legs apart.
He positioned the head of his cock at the entrance to her body.
Her breasts—those tight, tempting nipples—thrust up toward him.
He had to bend down. Had to lick. Suck. Had to taste. Had to use the edge of his teeth in a light, sensual bite.
“Fuck me, Gray. Fuck me. ”
He drove into her. She’d been tight when he put a finger inside her before. Now, around his dick… So tight that I am going to lose my mind.
She gasped and moaned. Her legs flew up to curl around his hips. He gave her an instant to adjust to him.
So good. So insanely good.
He withdrew. Thrust into her. Again. Harder.
Deeper. Her nails raked down his back. Her moans urged him on.
His dick was thick and swollen. Hard as hell.
He hammered into her. Pushed a hand between their bodies and stroked her clit, working her with his fingers even as he thrust his dick into her again and again.
Her body stiffened beneath him. Her head tipped back against the pillow. Her mouth widened, and she gasped out his name. He felt the contractions of her inner muscles around him, milking his dick.
Hell, yes. Hell, yes.
She came, crying out his name.
And that was fabulous. She felt incredible. But he wasn’t done.
He pulled out of her.
“Gray!”
He flipped her on the bed. Brought her up to her knees. “Lock those hands around the headboard.”
Trembling, uncertain, she did. She gave him one hell of a view of her ass.
And he remembered what she’d said about spanking…
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
His hand slid over the curve of her ass.
“Gray?”
“Hold tight, baby. I’m not close to done with you yet.” He drove into her from behind, sinking into her hot, tight sex. One hand chained her hips against him. The other slid around her body. Eased between her folds. Worked her clit again and again because he needed her wild.
She arched back against him as he thrust into her. Her hips rocked hard against his. She was thrusting and heaving desperately. He kept his hand on her clit. Thumb stroking. Fingers squeezing. Her hands whitened around the headboard as her grip became even stronger.
“Gray, I-I can’t, I can’t again?—”
Oh, she could. He drove relentlessly into her. Felt her spiral into another release.
He poured into her. Her release had ignited his own. His hips slammed against her. That lush ass. That tempting body. Those soft moans. She drove him to the edge and beyond, and he poured hotter and longer into her than he ever had in his entire life.
By the time the orgasm ended, he felt emptied out. Sated.
Fucking mated.
No, no, wrong word. Too primitive. It had just been sex. Just sex.
Just—
She looked over her shoulder at him. Bright eyes. Trembling lips.
Fucking. Mated.
He kissed her.
Her lips parted beneath his. One hand still gripped her waist as he held her against him. Pleasure had poured through every cell of his body. The moment was tense. The air hummed with a dangerous, consuming charge around them.
He lifted his head and realized he was in trouble. I don’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever.
She stayed the night with the FBI agent. Their lights finally turned off well after midnight.
He watched the house. A big house, one decked out with security cameras, so he hadn’t been able to risk getting too close. He was used to Emerson’s systems. Easy enough to bypass because he was always given access to her codes. But he didn’t know what tricks Agent Stone might have at his place.
Better to wait.
To watch.
To learn his new enemy.
Emerson should have been afraid. She should have understood his message. She wasn’t safe, not even with the FBI agent. The past could always come up and take her.
She didn’t get to walk away. She didn’t get to go off and start a life with someone else. He had plans for her. She would stay with him.
The house remained dark.
It was a big house.
Plenty of rooms.
Just because the house was dark, it didn’t mean that Emerson was fucking the FBI agent.
They were kissing near O’Sullivan’s. I saw them.
Just because the house was dark…
He reached for his knife.
I am going to kill the FBI agent.
Sooner or later, Gray Stone would die.
He’d always wondered what it would be like to kill someone. He thought it might be quite…fun.