Beneath the Secrets
Page 42

Blake stepped in front of her and snatched the gun from her hand. “Did you really think I didn’t expect this?” Flipping the safety into place, he slid the gun inside the back of his jeans, and then trapped her soft, too-feminine, too-tempting body between him and the couch.
“You only took that from me because I let you,” she declared, her chin lifting defiantly.
“I couldn’t agree more. We both knew you weren't going to shoot me.”
“If you knew I was going to pull a gun, why leave me alone?”
“Trust, sweetheart,” he drawled. “I want you to have it, so I have to give it in return.”
“That’s why you asked one of your men to check up on me? Because you trust me?”
“You wouldn’t respect me in the morning if I didn’t check on your story, any more than I’d respect you if you hadn’t listened at the window.” His gaze lowered, lingering on her full kissable lips he wanted pressed to his, before lifting. “Find out anything interesting?”
“Whoever you called wasn’t Mendez.”
“You would have chased me out the door with the gun if you’d have thought I was calling Mendez.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe,” he repeated, his lips twitching.
She shoved him. “Must you always crowd me?”
“Yes.”
She glared. “I didn’t shoot you this time, Blake, but if you try to shut me out of the cover I’ve worked long and hard to develop, I will.”
Damn, she was hot when she was pissed. “Is that right?”
“Try me.”
Blake stared down at her, the fire licking at his limbs at her challenge, telling himself not to act, not to do what he burned to do, before he cursed, and did it anyway. Tunneling his fingers into her hair, he dragged her mouth to his and said, “I will,” before he kissed her, slanting his mouth over hers, with a hot, demanding slide of his tongue that demanded her response and told her who was in control. And it wasn’t her. It was impossible for him to keep his hands off of her.
Kara moaned into his mouth, her body softening against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her submission should have been enough. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough with this woman, which was exactly why this had to be it. This last taste of pleasure, before he got her the hell away from him, where she couldn’t distract him from killing Alvarez.
One of his hands slid from her face to her breast, caressing her, teasing her nipple. She arched into his touch and tugged at his shirt, trying to press her fingers beneath it. Blake shackled her wrists and pushed her hands to the couch behind her. “Keep them there,” he ordered.
She glared up at him, her lashes heavy; her lips swollen from his kisses. “Not a chance in hell that’s happening. You want to touch me, I’m damn sure touching you.”
His c**k thickened, his anger magnified. He leaned in and nipped her lip. “This isn’t a negotiation.”
“You’re right,” she assured him. “It’s not. You want a woman you can control, and she’s not me. Not in bed or out.”
“We’ll see about that.” He turned her to face the couch, forcing her to press her hands to the cushions.
“Blake—” She moaned as he palmed her br**sts, his thick erection nestling against her delectable little backside.
He leaned in near her ear, drawing her sweet floral scent into his nostrils, and pinching one of her ni**les as he whispered, “We’re doing this my way.”
“You can’t just claim me like property,” she hissed, her hand covering his, molding it closer when he knew she meant to push it away.
“I can and I will until I know you’re safe.”
“I’m FBI. It’s my job to never be safe.”
He wasn’t going to think beyond this mission and the cartel, or he might go insane. He nipped her ear roughly, making her yelp. “My way, Kara. That’s how this works. And the FBI wouldn’t put you in the danger you’re in now.”
She laughed bitterly. “You don’t know my boss.”
“I’m your boss now.” He shoved his hands under her shirt and pushed her bra down, covering her bare br**sts with his hands. “I own you until I say otherwise.”
“Making me moan means you have skills, not authority. And using it against me means you’re an ass**le. It means you’re a momentary escape, not the answer I’d hoped you were.”
Blake went completely still, and something dark, something he refused to let take shape, started to burn in his mind. He tugged his hands free of her shirt and gripped the sides of the couch. “If anyone is using sex against the other, it’s you, sweetheart.”
“Me?” She shoved back against him and then laid a hard elbow in his ribs.
Blake grunted and lifted his body enough so that she twisted around, grabbed his shirt, and lifted her knee to his groin without making contact. “You’re lucky I don’t really want to hurt you, Blake.”
He laughed and pulled her leg round his hip, fitting his c**k into the V of her body. “That’s more like it. And I was trying to f**k you, sweetheart, not hold you captive, but I guess I should have remembered—you like to strike when my pants are down or headed that way.”
She flinched. “That’s unfair. I thought you were part of the cartel when I drugged you.”
“Life isn’t fair and I don’t know what answer you’re looking for to your problems, but, like it or not, I’m the only one you have.”