Dark Ops: Hotshot Part 22

Her throat closed up.

Her feet plowed forward all the same. Stalking past a silver coffee carafe and spray of hothouse flowers, she spiked divots in the plush carpet as she set her eyes on Don. She tapped her moody lover on the shoulder. "Don? A minute of your time."

He flipped his cell phone shut. "Sure, but we should make it quick. I need to meet up with Lieutenant Colonel Scanlon."

That ripped it. "We need to talk."

Slowly, he tucked his phone inside his sports coat. "Actually, I was planning on talking to you right after I finished up with Scanlon."

Yeah right. "If you're worried about your daughter, that's fine. If you're mooning over your ex and wanting to end things with us, that's not okay, but either way, speak up like a man."

His eyes narrowed at her final words. The air crackled between them with that same dangerous spark they'd succ.u.mbed to last night.

"You don't pull any punches, princess."

"I think we already established that with our workout at your condo." Her body still simmered from the intensity of the coming together, a heat that could swallow her whole if she didn't tend it carefully.

His face stayed closed, too cla.s.sically handsome for his own good, attractive in that way that just grew better with age. She thought for a moment he would walk away right here and now.

Then he crossed his arms over his chest. "I forgot to use a condom."

"Right. I noticed. I was there, remember?"

"d.a.m.n it, Paulina, what if you're pregnant?"

His words sank in with a thud. Because of his heavy-with-doom tone? Or because she suddenly realized she didn't want his baby, not this way.

She looked deeper into his expressionless face and found a glimmer of something in his eyes, something that looked incredibly like outright horror.

"It's fine." Words tumbled out of her mouth ahead of her brain. "I started my period this morning."

Of course she lied, but she couldn't live with this awkwardness for even a few days until she started for real. Or didn't.

Right now she needed to focus on not slugging him for the mammoth relief flat-out shuddering through him. She might not want to get pregnant this way, but the thought of carrying his child did not fill her with horror.

Dumping his a.s.s would be a lot more satisfying than any punch.

She threw back her shoulders and thrust her chest out just enough to give him a peek at the lilac lace he would not be seeing up close later. "I think we both know it's time to call it quits."

"What?" His incredulity was almost ego soothing.

"Last night was . . ." She struggled for words and could only come up with, "Too much. Destructive, even. We need to end it while we can still be civil to each other."

He stepped closer, sliding a hand along her neck, stroking his thumb behind her ear. "Come on, Lina, we had a fight. We'll do better next time. When this is all over, let's crawl into bed for a week."

She stared at him through narrowed eyes. "Did I ever mention I really would like to have a baby?"

He jolted back like a man struck by a live electrical wire.

"Exactly." She fought tears. Angry tears. Not the other kind. "Now go away, to your ex-wife or your own lonely corner. I don't care. But please do not insult me by going on about how I'm wrecking a good thing." So much for not having words inside her. Now there were too many to contain. "You think this is a good thing? Never talking about what's important? Never going anywhere together except work and our apartments? I think what we have is c.r.a.p." Paulina spat out the last word and turned on her heel away from him.

He gripped her shoulder. "Can't we agree to finish this conversation later?"

"I don't have time for this now or later, Don. I have members of Congress and their aides to keep track of, as well as your daughter. Then I have a life to live."

She jerked free, determined to make it to the door before he could see the tears gathering behind her eyes. She would hold on to her pride. She wasn't that poor, needy little mountain girl in the Kentucky trailer park.

Don watched Paulina stalk away. There was no other word for it. Certainly not swish or sway or anything at all meant to entice him. He stood stunned. He hadn't planned on forever, and he was relieved about the baby issue.

But he hadn't foreseen her reaction or his disappointment.

A rattle in the hall startled him-for all of two seconds until he saw a maid pushing her cart down the hall. Thank G.o.d this was a secured area, or anybody could have taken him down. Some agent he made today, no good to Paulina, Shay, or himself. He was always careful. Always in control.

Last night, nothing had been about control.

Don pressed his palm against the pinch in his chest. Had all the females in his life gathered to stage some collective intervention to convince him he was a f.u.c.ked-up dude? He looked down at his hand and wondered for the first time if maybe those chest pains had less to do with age and more to do with stress.

Somebody needed to alert the media.

He didn't need persuading anymore.

Shay didn't need any more persuasion.

Hearing Vince say meeting her had changed his life for the better delivered an aphrodisiac stronger than anything she could imagine. His words soothed the old hurt inside her.

But thinking about that hurt, that night, made her wonder. "How can you say that when I slept with your best friend?"

"That event happened later, if you recall."

She stared down at her dog, sleeping peacefully in the chair beside her. What a thoughtful gift from Vince. He'd seemed perfect to her back then. He still seemed amazing, but more real. "If I was so important to you, why did you turn me away?"

"Respect for your old man. Respect for you."

Oh G.o.d, she needed air. She'd been so mired in insecurities then she'd missed out on a chance for so much. With her restraint already falling fast, this tipped her the rest of the way over the edge. "If I could go back to that time . . ."

"Well, I have to admit I wasn't all that sure you really wanted me as much as you wanted to p.i.s.s off your dad. That stung my pride more than a bit. Little did I know it would hurt a h.e.l.luva lot worse when Tommy threw your panties at my chest."

She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers burying deeper in her dog's fur. She'd wanted something like that to happen, having no clue how much she would regret it now from an adult perspective. "I'm so sorry."

Silence hung heavy with her memories of driving over to see Tommy. Of intending to tell him she'd made a mistake sleeping with him. Instead, she'd found Tommy and Vince circling each other, knives drawn. The fight had sucked in more teens, until finally the police arrived.

A gun was drawn.

Bullets flew, and Tommy dropped.

A horrible possibility bloomed in her mind. Her eyes snapped open. "Were you two fighting about me?"

Vince stared back at her, his dark eyes totally somber for once. "He threw your underwear. I threw a punch. Things went downhill from there."

As if she hadn't already felt guilty enough about that night. The truth was even worse than she'd imagined. The stab of guilt went deep.

That night rolled back over her. How much she'd hated herself for giving away her virginity out of anger. The ache in her heart and between her thighs over how raw the rough, brief encounter had been in the arms of someone who didn't really care about her.

Now to hear that Tommy had lorded it over Vince . . .

She sat up straighter. Tommy had arranged for her to meet him that night. Could he have planned the whole explosive event? As much as she wanted to hate him for that, she couldn't scrounge anything more than a deep sadness. They'd all been so young, reckless, even outright stupid.

No one deserved to die because of the ignorance of youth.

Shay saw the same weight of guilt etched on Vince's bold face. "How do we get past feeling responsible for what happened to him?"

His fists opened and closed on his knees. "I wish I had the answer."

She couldn't even hold his gaze and looked down at her dog again, her sweet little spoiled pet that Vince had gotten for her. Somehow he'd known how much she needed the comfort Buster would bring in the middle of this chaos.

An image of Vince from that night came back to haunt her. Vince wrapping himself around her to shield her after the cops came. That vision collided with memories of the drive-by shooting at the center when he'd covered her yet again. And here he was again, putting himself in harm's way for her, protecting her, comforting her even.

Shay stood and walked to his chair. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He stiffened in her embrace, but she forged on, urging him to rest his head against her chest, hugging him close, offering comfort.

His hands slid up to palm her waist, then circled around. She wasn't sure how long they held on to each other. n.o.body cried or spoke, but the air thickened with something she couldn't quite define.

But it was something she absolutely couldn't miss.

He tugged, catching her off guard and off balance. She tumbled into his lap as he sealed his mouth to hers. Urgency pulsed from him into her. She blinked through her surprise to find her body already burning for more.

Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. Raw emotions from the past and from the present scoured through her, and she couldn't resist the outlet his kiss, his body offered. She suspected much the same feelings stirred through him.

Twisting, she knelt to straddle him without breaking their kiss. The bold sweep of his tongue over hers sent a fresh jolt through her.

Her legs clamped against his as she wriggled to get closer, yet she was already as close as she could get without crawling inside him. He cupped her head, palmed her bottom, wrapping her in heat.

She stroked her fingers over his smoothly shaved scalp. So sleek. So s.e.xy. She nipped the corner of his mouth. "Don't you want to ask me fifty questions like, am I sure this is what I really want?"

He teased her earlobe between his teeth. "Or why the change of heart?"

"Or what are we going to do once tomorrow is over?" She arched her neck to give him better access.

"Or how about, when are you going to stop talking, because tomorrow is the very reason we need this?"

"I can't argue with that."

She stripped off his shirt, and wow, she'd shortchanged herself in not taking the time to look him over last night. The hard cut of muscles twitched under her gaze, the tattoos shifting with the roll of tendons as if coming to life. The phoenix tattoo draped over his shoulder, wings down his back, was familiar. "I remember this from when you used to strip off your shirt to work on your motorcycle. Did you know how we girls drooled over you?"

"G.o.d, I loved that rat bike." His fingers rasped up her sides, his thumbs grazing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Rat bike?" She shivered at the wash of tingles.

"Rat nasty," he explained between nipping his way down her neck, into the vee of her shirt, "held together with baling wire and a prayer."

Shay kissed her way over his shoulder for a better look, and yes, she'd remembered correctly. The wings flowed down his back with the word Freedom interwoven in the feathers. An amazing piece of art, it must have taken a full day to create.

Shay skimmed her hands over his broad shoulders, thinking of that first night of his return when he'd walked in and nearly scared her to death with his intimidating size. Now her mind filled only with memorizing every inch of him. She crawled across his chest, Carpe Diem etched on his abs, another mark from his teen years, an earlier tat, this one not as expertly scrolled.

He peeled away her shirt and unhooked her bra in a smooth sweep and toss, teasing over her skin. She gripped his arms and found the roughened texture of another tattoo on his other biceps. Could she have forgotten? No. She remembered everything about him. She broke the kiss to look.

"Yeah, it's a new one," he growled, his hands rising to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, plucking lightly on both until she beaded harder with pleasure.

Her lashes fluttered shut for an instant before she forced them open again, determined to look her fill this time. She found a dagger with Chinese lettering on the handle.

The blade gave her pause.

She forced herself to lean forward and press her lips to the tattoo, to own it as a part of him and not a part of her past. "Any other new inkings I should know about?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself." His callused hands rasped along her skin as he stroked from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s around to her back, fingers dipping below her waistband. He gently snapped her thong.

She would have to get naked soon, totally bared in the light. Her scars would be out there for him to see. She should tell him. She wanted to and didn't at the same time.

Maybe he simply needed to rediscover the new and different her the same way she was relearning him.

SEVENTEEN.

Who the h.e.l.l needed sleep?

Vince had never felt more completely awake.

He wondered how the woman kissing him senseless could feel so intensely familiar and new at the same time. Not that he intended to waste even a second thinking right now.

He had a willing Shay in his arms and a bed a few steps away.

She clutched his shoulders, urgently wriggling against him. He scooped her up and carried her to the wide bed. Finally. He propped his knee on the edge and eased her onto the mattress, holding their kiss as he positioned himself over her.

He'd spent so many years avoiding thoughts of her, he'd missed out on the possibility that she'd changed, too. He'd focused on thinking about the negatives they brought out in each other, until he'd lost sight of her positives that had enticed him in the first place. The way she always listened, really listened to what he and other people had to say.

Her uninhibited laugh when she rode on the back of his bike.

Vince elbowed up to keep the bulk of his weight off her. The feel of her smooth hands on his body, exploring his tattoos, sent his pulse into overdrive. Not many women understood, just seeing them as a sign of danger, either a turn-on or turnoff. Shay seemed to understand how the markings were simply a part of him, past and present, with maybe more in his future.

She reached for the fastening on her jeans.

He placed his hands over hers. "I've got it."

Smiling, she let her arms fall to rest above her head. With her shirt and bra already on the floor, she made for pinup material. Her pert b.r.e.a.s.t.s high and creamy white with pretty pink tips. Her tousled curls fluffed around her face in a halo belied just a little by her hint of a wicked smile.