Chapter 12 - Ares
Ares
The text popped up while we drove toward the hotel. Neville Wilson said he had info for me and wanted to speak to me in person. This was Neville’s way of indicating that he had sensitive information meant only for me, and I needed to respond.
Except Tashi was sitting across from me in this limo, her eyes still bright from the tour’s success, her skin flushed from champagne and adrenaline, and every instinct told me to stay.
“Go,” she said, reading my face. “Handle it.”
For the first time in my life, I would rather not attend to duty. But I left the limo and double-timed it into the hotel, all the while regretting leaving Tashi there alone.
I took a private elevator to the security nest, where access was only granted to select personnel. I found Neville sitting at a multi-screen setup, running different programs that I assumed dug through data.
“Well?” I said, more gruffly than I intended.
“Aren’t you grumpy?”
“This better be good.”
“Hot date?” Neville said. He eyed my $6500 jacket, an indulgence to keep up with my peacock brothers.
“I didn’t bring you here at your inflated retainer for editorial. What do you have?”
He raised his eyebrows and swiveled to face his screens. “It’s sophisticated work, keeping the feeds intact but routing a stream to another location.”
“Which location?”
“I’m still working on that. But, Ares, this isn’t just top-tier work, it’s government agency grade.”
“What kind of agency?”
“Spy agencies.”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. “Why would—”
“I can’t tell you that, Ares. Is there something I should know?”
“Nothing that hasn’t been made public in the last six months.”
“Well, what I found out was that before Ms. George checked in, the security feed in her corridor had been disabled. We have no film on who entered that room and sabotaged that microwave.”
“Did you check the key card access?”
“Again, wiped.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Before she even arrived? Before that room was assigned to her? It doesn’t make sense that the microwave sabotage happened before her room got assigned.”
“Maybe she wasn’t a target?” said Neville.
I shook my head. “You’re saying that the saboteur planned an attack against the hotel, not Tashi. But it doesn’t feel right.”
“I’ve always trusted your instincts, Ares. Back in Afghanistan, you always knew when we were about to get hit. But maybe your instincts are dulled by all your high living, eh?” He cast a skeptical glance at my jacket again.
“I haven’t lost my edge, Neville. Keep digging and make yourself worth your retainer.”
He scoffed. “For that crack, you owe me a bottle of Macallan, thirty years old.”
“Just the thirty? It’s only five thousand a bottle.”
“I’m not greedy,” Neville said.
“Keep digging. Find something actionable. Then you’ll have earned that whiskey.”
I walked away, nagged by implications and shadows.
A government agency? No. I would know. Some old contact would have flagged it for me, because I was not a man to cross, and I could be helpful.
A rogue agent? Someone hired to disrupt our operations and make us vulnerable to threats from investors or the Gaming Commission? That made more sense.
Yes, my instincts were fired up. Orion and Leo were distracted, attending to other issues and not easily available to back me up.
Even if Tashi hadn’t been a target at first, she’d made herself one by making herself so visible with her successful marketing campaign.
Those damned photos. All three of us smiling, relaxing, and looking vulnerable. We’d made ourselves targets.
And Tashi, with me not knowing where the threat came from, was alone in her suite—the most exposed of all.
I pulled out my phone and texted her: Don’t let anyone but me in. I’m coming up.
Still, when I arrived, I stood at her door. Why was I here? I could easily hire security to stand guard at the door. Why did I feel the need to come here?
A little voice in my head whispered the answer.
That black dress. The one you wanted to take off.
Oh, hell. I could not let my feelings devolve toward this. I was supposed to protect her, not take advantage of her.
I turned, intending to head back to the elevators, when the lock to her door clicked open.
“Ares—”
I swallowed hard and turned.
Tashi stood in the doorway, wearing a silk kimono robe painted like a watercolor. A very touchable silk kimono.
“I’m just checking on you.”
“I’m fine, Ares. Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?”
I froze. Should I? It was at once a terrible and a fantastic idea.
“I’ll do a security sweep, if that’s okay?”
“Sure,” she said.
I moved past her, hyperaware of the silk brushing against my arm, the scent of her shampoo. Focus. Security sweep. That’s all this is.
I checked the windows first—locked, no signs of tampering. The closet next, pushing aside the clothes we bought her, seeing nothing but empty hangers and shoe boxes. The bathroom. Clear. Under the bed, behind the curtains, every corner my training demanded I check.
Tashi stood by the door the entire time, watching me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“Satisfied?” she asked when I straightened from checking the balcony door.
Why did that word flip a switch in my head? I looked over my shoulder to see a sexy smirk on her lips.
“The suite’s secure.” My voice came out rougher than intended.
“Then why are you still here?”
Good question. The professional answer would be about additional security protocols. The honest answer was that I couldn’t make myself leave.
“Because you shouldn’t be alone,” I said.
“I’m not.” She took a step closer. “You’re here.”
“I’ve been watching you,” I said. The words came out before I thought them through. “Since before you walked into our hotel, before the fire, from that first interview when you looked into the camera and told Leo exactly why his marketing strategy was failing.”
She blinked. “That’s—”
“The truth.” I leaned forward, close enough to see her pulse jump at her throat. “And seeing Orion carrying your unconscious body, smoke in your lungs—” My hands flexed. “Every protective instinct I trained into submission during my military years woke up and refused to go back to sleep.”
“Ares.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I’m direct. So here it is—I want you. I’ve wanted you since day one. I want to strip that kimono off your body and taste every inch of your skin. I want to hear you scream my name.”
Her breath caught.
“But I need you to understand something.” I shifted closer, the space between us shrinking to nothing. “If you say yes, I’m not gentle. I’m not patient. I’ll probably leave marks we’ll both have to explain later.”
“And if I say no?” Her voice was steady despite the heat in her eyes.
“Then we pretend this conversation never happened.” I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with deliberate slowness. “Yes or no, Tashi. But make it clear because I’m holding on by a thread here.”
She stared at me for three heartbeats. Four.
“Yes,” she said.
I moved.
One second I was across from her. The next, my mouth covered hers with no restraint. This was hunger, pure and simple, hours of watching her laugh while my hands ached to touch her.
She made a sound against my lips—surprise or need, I couldn’t tell—and opened for me. My tongue swept into her mouth, claiming, tasting champagne and desire and something uniquely her.
“Ares,” she gasped when I moved to her neck.
“Say it again.” I gently bit down on the spot where her pulse throbbed. “I want to hear how my name sounds when you’re coming apart.”
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, nails through the fabric of my shirt.
“Ares, don’t stop.” Her head fell back, giving me better access. “Don’t you dare stop.”
God, she was perfect. Responsive and brave, and completely mine in this moment.
I found the edge of her underwear and traced the lace with deliberate slowness while my other hand cupped her breast through the thin fabric of that kimono. She arched into the touch, her hips rocking against my hand.
“Tell me what you want,” I demanded against her skin.
“You. This. I don’t—” She broke off when my fingers slipped beneath the lace. “Oh God.”
“Specific, Tashi.” I caught her eyes and stared into them. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want—” She gasped when I found the right spot. “I want you inside me. Now.”
Direct. I fucking loved that about her.
I lifted her, pushed her against the wall, hands rough on her hips. Her breath came in short gasps. My belt buckle clinked as she worked it open with shaking hands.
“Protection?” she managed.
“Wallet. Left pocket.”
She found it, tore the packet open with her teeth while I fought every instinct screaming to take her without pause. When she rolled it on with hands that trembled, I nearly lost what little control remained.
“Ares.” She met my eyes. “I need—”
I pulled her down onto me in one smooth motion, and the rest of the sentence disappeared into a moan that made my vision blur.
Tight. Hot. Perfect.
“Move,” I commanded, hands gripping her hips. “Show me what you need.”
She did, establishing a rhythm that was part desperation, part demand. I helped, guiding her movements, my mouth finding her breast through the fabric of her kimono, teeth scraping against the sensitive peak.
“That’s it,” I muttered against her skin. “Take what you want.”
She was gorgeous like this—hair wild, kimono askew, completely abandoned to pleasure. Nothing held back. No performance, no pretense. Just raw need meeting raw need.
“Close,” she panted. “I’m so close—”
“Not yet.” I slowed my movements despite her protest. “I want to feel you come apart. Want to watch you lose control completely.”
“Ares, please—”
“Please what?” I shifted my hips, hitting a new angle that made her cry out. “Tell me exactly what you need.”
“More. Harder. I need—” She dug her nails into my shoulders hard enough to bruise. “Stop being patient and just—”
Without pulling out of her, I gripped her thighs, turned away from the wall, and carried her over to the bed. Her back hit the soft bedcover, me braced above her, still buried deep. The new position let me go deeper, harder, exactly what she’d demanded.
“Like this?” I thrust, watching her face.
“Yes. God, yes. Don’t stop.”
I didn’t. Couldn’t. Every sound she made, every clench of her body around mine, drove me further past control. Our passion wasn’t gentle. It consumed us both.
My mouth found hers again, swallowing her moans as the rhythm turned desperate. One of my hands found the headboard above her head for leverage. The other slid between us, finding where we joined, circling with deliberate pressure.
She shattered.
I felt it in every muscle, every breath, the way she clenched around me and said my name like a prayer or a curse. The sound pushed me over the edge too, pleasure crashing through me with enough force to make my arms shake.
We stayed like that for a moment, both breathing hard, Vegas lights casting shadows through the windows like the world hadn’t just tilted on its axis.
“Holy shit,” she finally whispered.
“Yeah.” I eased back, helping her sit up, both of us making ourselves decent with shaking hands. “That was—”
“Intense,” she supplied.
“I was going to say inevitable.” I found a tissue box and handed it to her with more tenderness than I’d shown moments before. “But intense works.”
She laughed, the sound breathless and satisfied. “You weren’t kidding about not being patient.”
“I told you what I was.” I tucked her hair behind her ear again, the gesture at odds with what we’d just done. “No pretense. No games.”
“I noticed.” She met my eyes. “Ares—”
“What?”
“I should tell you—”
A sharp pain struck my chest. Now that I’d had her, I knew I needed to have her again. If she said she didn’t want me, I didn’t know if I could accept that.
The vulnerability in her voice made my chest ache. “What do you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know how to say this, but I should.”
My phone exploded with notifications. Literally vibrated so hard it moved my jacket on the floor like a living thing.
I grabbed it, swore. “Security. They found something about the fire.”
Reality crashed back. We weren’t just two people who’d given in to desire—we were employer and employee, a complication that could destroy everything.
“Then go,” she said.
“I don’t want to.”
“I know.” She touched my face, the gesture unexpectedly gentle. “But whoever’s targeting me—targeting us—they’re still out there.”
She was right. I knew she was right.
At her suite door, I backed her against the wall before I could stop myself. Kissed her thoroughly, possessively, my hands framing her face like I could memorize her through touch alone.
“We’ll talk,” I promised against her mouth. “Soon. About all of this.”
“Promise?”
“I keep my promises.” I kissed her again, softer this time. “Lock your door. Don’t let anyone in except us.”
“You already said that.”
“I’m saying it again.” I pulled back, already missing the warmth of her. “Stay safe, Tashi.”
I made myself walk away, pulling out my phone as I headed for the elevators.