Elite Metal-ARE-epub (62 page)

It was over now, and all she had left was this memory.

Chapter Three

Sterling lay on the bed, holding Candy in his arms, struggling for purchase.
Christ Almighty
. That had been amazing. He’d known it would be, but he had never expected
that
.

Their mating had been wild, untamed and feral. A fast-and-vicious crazed ride. He’d never lost control like that with a woman. Never. He’d intended to seduce her slowly, to toy with her and bring her to the edge with exquisite precision, to get her hot and panting and begging for it. Mindless and forgetful of her true purpose.

But he was the one who’d been swept away.

He’d been on her and in her and skating the edge of release in minutes.

Surely he had more self-control than that.

He chalked it up to the fact that she’d come at him just as passionately, just as frenzied. And her passion had incited his insanity. Had tripped the urge to bury himself deep and hard in a relentless surge.

Sucking in a deep breath, he caressed her arm and then drew his palm over her waist and hip. He loved the way she smelled, soaked in sweat and cream. He loved the way she felt, pulled close and spooned in the curve of his body.

He hoped to hell she wasn’t what he suspected, because it would be a damn shame to find out she was the enemy. It would be a damn shame to never hold her like this again.

Because if she was investigating the team, the consequences would be harsh for her.

And, consequently, for him.

But lives were at stake. The lives of men and women he cared for very much. The team was his family, the only family he had left, and he would protect them with all he had.

There was no two ways about it.

When she finally stirred, he eased back and rolled her over so he could look down at her. Her eyes were clear and damp, her lips parted. Gently, he brushed a strand of silky hair from her face. She smiled; it was a lazy, languid effort. He had to kiss her. Just once. Just a soft buss. And then, of course, he couldn’t stop. She tasted of ambrosia. Soft, sweet and tantalizing.

And the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest made him dizzy. Her curves fit him in all the right places.

Soon, he would need to ask some hard questions, but not just yet. God, not just yet. Because when he confronted her with what he suspected, all this heaven would end.

So he ignored the impending disaster and explored her body as he should have done before, slowly, meticulously, with caresses and kisses and licks and laps. Not a word passed between them, only sighs. And when she met his exploration with her own, his passion started to simmer again.

It was shocking how quickly his reserves refilled.

Then again, given how fucking perfect she was, maybe not. That, and the knowledge that this would probably be the last time, urged him on. Thank God he had more than one condom in his wallet. A fluke of fate there, because he hadn’t been laid in…well, far too long.

He discovered she was ticklish, but only on the delicate arch of her foot, and proceeded to tease her there, simply because he enjoyed watching her squirm. The sight lit a fire in him, one long banked, and he pressed it down. Yeah, she had a lush, beautiful ass, one he itched to smack. And yeah, she had a thing for leather. But he couldn’t go there. He had to keep his inner beast chained up with this one.

This was business, not pleasure.

Although, there was pleasure.

When he stroked her silky slit, circled the nubbin hidden there, she began to pant, and her features tightened with a desperate arousal he now recognized.

She was so fucking hot, his Candy. So fucking ready.

He was ready too. It didn’t take much. Her hand wrapped around his cock, teasing him, pumping. The noises she made at the back of her throat, the moans and groans, drove him crazy. And the rake of her nails over his skin when she became too impatient, God, he really loved that too.

He expected the second time to be slow and easy, a steady climb to rapture, but he was wrong. When he left her on the bed to riffle his jeans pocket for his wallet, she whimpered. The sound gored him like a hot lance. How much would he love to see her tied to the bed, bound and blindfolded and totally at his mercy? He’d really make her whimper then. He’d really make her beg—

The vision that thought incited made it harder.

His cock, for sure, but also strengthening his resolve.

If he gave into his baser urges, took her the way he ached to, it would cross the line. Blur it at the very least. He was here for a purpose. And that purpose wasn’t fulfilling his dark, snarling fantasies.

Yeah, he wanted to tie her to the bed. But he wouldn’t. And yeah, he really wanted to smack that lush, creamy ass.

But he wouldn’t.

He had one purpose here. And it wasn’t warming his palm.

When he came back to her with the foil packet in hand, her eyes glossed over and her lips parted and she nodded. She slipped her legs apart ever so slightly. In every way, she welcomed him to take her. And he would. He would please her. But in a hard, cold, calculated manner. This time he would show some restraint.

But then she did something that nearly made him lose his mind.

She got onto her hands and knees before him and thrust out her ass, that perfectly proportioned, tantalizing ass. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she smiled.

“Like this?” An innocent query.
Hell.
The woman had no clue. No clue what that position, that glance, that expression did inside his bowels. They clenched in a knot.

He curled his fingers in an attempt to control the compulsion raging through him.

God, he wanted to—

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not now. Not yet.

He forced a smile and turned away to slip the condom on, but truth be told, he needed the moment to recapture his control.

This was business, he reminded himself. Business.

Seduce her and soften her. Then come in for the kill. Find out who and what she really was, no matter what it took.

But fuck. Taking her, staring down at that tantalizing bottom—and not giving it the tanning it screamed for—was going to kill him.

He kneed up on the bed behind her and cupped her ass. Shivers rippled over her skin, although, if he were being honest, they racked him too, from the inside out.

He couldn’t resist bending down to kiss one cheek. And then, he took a bite. Just a nibble. Just the scraping of teeth. She shuddered and sighed.

Fuck.

That sigh. It spoke to her pleasure at the rough touch, it spoke to her desire for more. Her submission to him.

And
fuck
. It sent a raging wave of heat billowing in his veins. His passion, already high, rocketed to a fever pitch. The beast within rose. Broke its chains and roared.

Fuck his restraint. He needed to know. Had to know.

“Do you like it this way?” he asked, his voice a low, choked rumble. The words caught in his throat.

She waggled her ass in response.

A flame flared in his gut.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He couldn’t hold back. Not if worlds depended on it. Without warning, he lifted his hand and smacked her cheek. She squealed but held preternaturally still. The look she shot him, veiled through the skeins of her tousled hair, ate at him. Her lips moved. He was sure they formed one word. One word he knew well.
Again.

And he complied. Oh God, did he comply. With smack after smack, he covered her ass with his handprint, heating her, heating him. Each smack overlapping another in a pattern he knew well. She didn’t protest, simply held herself there, soaking it in, glorying in the sensation of a wicked paddling.

Her skin turned a satisfying red, not just on her ass, but her back and shoulders as well. It was a tell, a dead giveaway, that she was in the throes of pleasure.

It didn’t make it any easier on him to know that she reveled in this, craved it. Not given who he was. Who she might be.

The thought made him ache somewhere deep in his empty soul, but he ignored it. He resolved to glory in this conflagration and let tomorrow worry about itself.

To that end, he decided to test her. Just how aroused was she? He slipped two fingers into her steamy channel and—

Holy ever-loving fuck.

Was she wet?

Dripping.

Her muscles closed around him and the tight grip sent a heinous shiver through him. He knew he could not resist. Not wait. Not tease her any more.

Playtime was over.

With remorseless insistence, he grabbed her ass cheeks with hard fingers and positioned her where he wanted her, shoving her knees apart with his own. Then he fisted his cock and aimed. Sank in. Everything in him seized at the hot, wet embrace. He closed his eyes and threw back his head and pushed deeper.

Bliss. Fucking bliss.

When he was buried as far as he could go, he brought his palm down on her ass and nearly came as she clenched in response.

God. Have. Mercy.

Digging deeper into her flesh, he held her still and yanked out. Then sank in again, hard, insistent, intent. And then he launched into action, pummeling her from this angle and that, searching for that spot that made her whimper, made her howl. He found it and then barraged it with thrust after thrust, ruthless and unrelenting in his onslaught.

Her body began to shake. Her breath came in pants. Words—words that heretofore had not been a part of their play—emerged, but they were not coherent or strung together in any recognizable pattern. Words like
yes, fuck, I need, now
. And
harder. More
.

His two favorite words.

Though her speech was disjointed, he caught her meaning, read her need, smelled her desperation. And he complied, giving her everything he had and then some. His breath was harsh, his pulse thrummed in his temple. His cock, hard and hungry, was on a mission to search and destroy.

And then she came. She came. Closing around him with a tormenting spasm that grabbed him by the balls and sent him hurtling off into oblivion with her.

Yeah. Oh yeah.

The first time had been unbelievable, but this?

This was fucking world shifting.

The rapture took him, spun him around, plunged him to the dark depths of his soul and then hurtled him into a world of light and sensation. And she was with him, by his side, urging him higher and higher with her snarls and growls and wailed demands. And then, as she returned to the world, she soothed him with her murmurs.

Damn.

Limp and drained and utterly ruined, he collapsed beside her. For the second time, he pulled her close and held her. His heart thudded in a manic pattern and his mind spun.

He struggled to find himself again, and couldn’t.

She’d done something to him here, in her shabby room, on this lumpy bed. Something that had shifted his center.

He’d always been a loner. Always been able to walk away from any woman.

It was kind of frightening the way he felt when he thought about walking away from her. Especially considering they’d only just met.

Especially considering, if she was what he suspected, he might be asked to make the threat…go away.

His stomach lurched at the thought.

Even as he knew it was a possibility, he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pull the trigger and extinguish her light. And that was the true horror here, wasn’t it?

He was Sterling, the hard-ass, heartless, determined, don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anybody operative. Never—not ever—had he let anyone or anything come between him and a mission.

That he was even entertaining these thoughts was a betrayal of who and what he was.

He steeled his spine and forced himself to rebuild the thirty-year-old wall this woman in pigtails had dismantled so easily.

She was using him. He was using her. For a night. Nothing more.

Nothing fucking more.

And if he needed to, he would do whatever Warbucks ordered.

Because that was who he was.

Aside from that, all this agonizing was a moot point until he figured out who and what she was. Until he found proof of her innocence…or guilt.

She snuffled and wriggled back against him and a shiver walked over his skin. He tightened his hold. He knew he couldn’t hold on to the moment forever, but he was loath to let it end.

She didn’t seem so sappily inclined. She pushed away and sat up, gazing down at him. Her eyes were wide and damp with tears, although he did not know why. He reached up and wiped one away with his thumb. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nibbled her lip and nodded.

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“No.” A whisper, threaded with something soft and satisfied. Still, she pushed off the bed. He hated letting her go but she smiled and said, “I need to use the bathroom.”

And
fuck
. There it was. His chance. Though he’d dreaded it, he knew he had to do what needed to be done. She padded across the room—sending him dreamy glances that cut him to the quick—and then slipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Fuck.

Keeping an eye on the door, he rose from the bed and slipped over to the chair where she’d dropped her purse. With quick, practiced moves, he riffled through it. The first thing he found was her wallet. He flipped it open and checked her driver’s license. California. Yeah, he’d expected that.

Her name wasn’t Candy—he’d expected that too, but it still made something coil in his gut—it was Veronica Banks. He quickly memorized her address and flicked through the plastic sleeve holding her credit cards. His attention stalled on the picture of a girl in a wheelchair, grinning from ear to ear, next to an enormous mouse with a castle in the background. He filed that away for future reference and then dropped the wallet into her purse and pulled out her phone.

It was not password protected. That was heartening. What hard-boiled reporter didn’t password protect a phone?

But his hope was dashed pretty quickly when he checked her most recent texts. They were all from some guy named Marcus, and all pretty incriminating, demanding updates on her search. He quickly flicked up to the first message in the string and his gut clenched.