Chapter Six Benson
My head feels like it’s been hit with a sledgehammer.
The pounding ache is unrelenting as I shift to sit up in bed, blinking several times against the rising sun.
I glance down, wondering how the hell I managed to get undressed and neatly drape my uniform over the chair in the corner, given how shitfaced I was last night. Then it all comes flooding back to me.
Karmen.
She was here, in my apartment.
“We’ll find out who’s doing this. I promise.”
“Fuck,” I grit through clenched teeth, clutching my throbbing head. I let my liver handle what my heart couldn’t last night, now my head is paying the price.
I throw on a pair of sweatpants, take a piss, then head to the kitchen in search of some pain relievers. I’m downing my second glass of water when my door slowly swings open, and Karmen walks in, holding a tray with two coffees.
My stupid fucking heart kicks up at the sight of her.
Dressed to kill in a dove-gray pantsuit with a white button-down open at the collar, exposing her delicate throat.
Her hair is pulled back in that severe ponytail she usually wears when she’s working, and her thick-frame glasses sit on her freckled nose.
I try to remind my dick that we hate her, but the horny bastard doesn’t give a fuck.
“Morning,” she greets softly.
I grunt, unable to manage words now. Not only because my head is still pounding like a motherfucker, but because I don’t know what else to say.
Part of me wants to yell at her to get the hell out, but the other part—the fucked-up part of my heart—likes seeing her here in my space.
“You were out of coffee,” she says, handing me a cup.
“Thanks,” is all I manage to get out before removing the lid and tossing it onto the counter. “How’d you get in here?”
She smiles, a glint of pride in her silver eyes. “You taught me how to pick a lock the second week we were on duty together, remember?”
I try not to grin as my mind drifts to the past and the first time we met…
The rain had tapered into a mist, coating the black SUV with a fine sheen as the motorcade idled on the private runway.
Flashing blue lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a pulse-like glow over the dozen black, suited agents stationed around the area.
I adjusted my earpiece, eyes sweeping the perimeter.
“Eyes on the fence line,” I relayed to my team.
Weather elements like rain, wind, or snow always require an extra layer of caution. Too many small details could go unnoticed. But my team was the best, and I knew that without the order, they were all already hyper-aware.
“Agent Cunningham, your new transfer is here,” Agent Miles said over the line.
We’d been stationed here for the last three days, with two rotating teams, as the Vice President visited the areas and families affected by the recent floods in Texas due to Hurricane Uma two weeks ago.
“On my way,” I replied, making my way to the command tent.
Upon entering, my eyes immediately fell on my new agent.
With her back to me, she spoke to Agent Miles.
Although women were the minority in this field, I’d worked with plenty of strong, smart, remarkable women.
Some were tougher than men. I thought this would be no different.
But when she turned around and those blade-colored eyes cut to mine, I knew I was in trouble.
She was only a couple of inches shorter than me, and her long brown hair was secured in a ponytail.
Not a strand out of place. Her honey-toned skin was flawless, free of any makeup, and her full lips were the prettiest shade of pink.
But it was her silver eyes that had my pulse stuttering in my veins.
They were unlike anything I’d ever seen, and the way she held my gaze made me want to know everything about her.
I have never let my personal life interfere with my professional life. I would never cross those lines. But something deep in the pit of my stomach told me that this woman could very well destroy those lines.
Closing the distance between us, she extended her hand. “Agent Ashford,” she announced.
The smell of her perfume assaulted me as a zap of heat shot up my arm at the feeling of her soft hand clasping mine. Something feminine and exotic.
Fucking intoxicating.
Her handshake was firm.
Confident.
And I immediately wondered what it would feel like wrapped around my cock.
Fuck, I needed to get my shit together.
“Agent Cunningham, welcome to the team,” I said in an even tone.
“Where do you want me?” she asked.
Under me.
In addition to the many depraved, insanely unprofessional thoughts running through my mind, I had this overwhelming urge to protect her, to keep her close.
Was that unreasonable?
Yes.
Did I give a fuck?
Absolutely not.
“I want you where I can see you.”
Her jaw clenched, lips tightening to a thin line before she parted them to say, “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Good.” I collected a step, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because I don’t babysit. Our job is to keep people alive, so if you’re going to be reckless, tell me now so I can adjust my expectations.”
She stepped forward, our bodies inches apart as she looked up at me, without backing down an inch. “You can expect me to do my job.”
I had only known her for a handful of minutes, but the urge to kiss her berry-stained lips was an unwavering tug in my gut.
“And please refrain from wearing perfume while on duty. It can be distracting to other agents.”
A deep red flush painted her cheeks as her body tensed in anger, her hands curling into tight fists at her sides.
We had a strict policy against fraternizing, and as her superior, I was held to a higher standard. I absolutely could not cross that line. I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and self-control. But this woman was shaking that foundation to its core.
“Our principal is wheels up at oh-three hundred. I want you on my left flank. Got it?”
Her gaze held mine for what felt like an eternity before she finally replied through gritted teeth, “Yes, sir.”
Those two words undid me. Utterly and completely.
Yep, totally fucked.
In the years since, I have often thought about that day and the months that followed. The choices I made, the choices she made—how it all led us here, standing in my kitchen, mere feet apart but worlds away from one another.
She blows on the steaming coffee before taking a tentative sip.
I eye her over the top of my cup. “What?”
“Nothing. Just…”
Her gaze travels leisurely down my bare chest before zeroing in on the imprint of my dick.
She smiles seductively. “Memories.”
I set my cup down and walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” she asks, laughing.
“Shower. You’d better be gone by the time I get out.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she shouts as I slam the door.
I can’t do this. I can’t have her here. It’s stirring too many emotions. I’m over her. I don’t want her.
Stop lying to yourself, asshole.
I brace my hands on the sink, trying to get a hold of myself.
How can I trust her after what she did to me?
I buried her years ago. Inside every woman I fucked.
At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.
But who am I kidding? None of those women ever even came close to measuring up.
They could never replace what I had with Karmen.
I close my eyes, letting go of a long, deep breath. How can I trust myself to be around her when all I want to do is strip her of that fucking suit, yank her hair out of that ponytail, and fuck her until she’s mine again.
I turn on the shower, steam quickly filling the room as I strip and step inside. I take my time washing up, then turn the shower to the coldest setting, praying she’s gone when I get out.
I brush my teeth, then dress in jeans and a T-shirt. When I come back out, she’s sitting at my kitchen table in front of her laptop, tapping away.
Standing beside her, I cross my arms over my chest. “I told you to leave.”
“And I told you I’m not going anywhere,” she says, not looking up from her screen.
My blood heats with anger. “Wanna bet?”
Her determined gaze shifts up to mine as she digs her heels in.
Her and those fucking eyes.
She gets to her feet but doesn’t pack up. Instead, she retrieves her coffee from the counter, spinning to face me.
“Look, can we just forget the past and focus on the present?” she asks.
“I forgot about you the moment you walked out that door.”
The hurt in her eyes almost makes me regret my harsh words.
Almost.
She recovers quickly, as only her cold heart can.
“Why are you being such an asshole?”
“Why are you such a heartless bitch?”
She flinches as if I slapped her, and I instantly hate myself for going so low, but this woman is bringing out the worst in me right now. My emotions are all over the place. I drag a hand through my hair, anger and frustration warring inside me.
“If I’m so heartless, then why the hell did I risk my job to help you?”
I throw my arms out to the sides. “Fuck if I know, but I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“Well, it’s already done.” She slams her coffee cup down on the table. “So how about we work together to figure out who’s behind all this?”
I blink several times, trying to wrap my head around what she just said. “You quit?”
“Resigned,” she says.
I stare at her in disbelief. “Why would you do that?
She releases a long breath. “Because, despite what you might think of me, I care about what happens to you, Benson.”
Her revelation is like a punch to the chest. My heart twists, aching to close the distance between us, to pull her in my arms and never let her go.
Why?
Why would she do that? She’s always guarded her career as if it were the only thing she truly loved, and now she’s thrown everything away.
For me?