Chapter Three
I felt someone toe me.
“I’m not dead yet,” I said weakly.
“I know,” Jake said. “So why are you still on the ground?”
“Because I’ve been shot.”
Jake paused for a beat. “No, you haven’t.”
I rolled over onto my back, which exhausted more effort than it should have. “Then why do I feel like I have a punctured lung?” I asked in a raspy, whispering voice. “I can barely catch my breath.”
“Sorry,” Jake said, hoisting me to my feet. “I must’ve knocked the wind out of you.”
He hadn’t lied when he said he held back during our earlier fight. A macho, all-American male. Probably even played football at some point. I wouldn’t have been any match for him unless he had tried to keep me from getting hurt in that alley. This time I got hurt, but that’s because he was trying to keep me from getting…well, dead.
“You’re bad luck,” I told him.
“I saved your ass twice tonight. How am I bad luck?”
“It’s the third time I’ve scuffed the floor with my face since you’ve been around. If you’re the undercover agent, how come I always end up being the one on the ground?”
“I like being on top,” he said smugly. “Besides, none of those incidents were my fault.”
“Two of them were,” I argued, shaking glass fragments from my hair and dusting off my clothes as an ambulance came up the driveway.
“Look at the bright side. At least you’re not the one who got shot.”
“What, someone was shot?”
“Officer Stevens.”
I covered my mouth. “Is he…?”
“No, he’ll be fine. Stevens caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, but it doesn’t look bad. He’s lucky they were aiming for you.”
A wave of nausea welled up from my stomach, making me woozy. “I…I need to sit down.”
Jake spoke to the officer with Stevens. “I’m getting her out of here before she ends up on the ground again. Let me know if you find that car.” He grabbed my arm and speed-walked me over to a black Yukon in the side lot, stuffing me into the back seat.
I drew in slow, deep breaths as he slid behind the wheel and cranked the engine.
“You look a little pale, like you’re going to be sick. Need some Pepto?” His incredibly smug face peered back at me in the rearview mirror.
“You’re such a prick.”
Jake turned to face me, draping his right arm over the seat. He didn’t dare laugh, but the smirk remained on his face. “So where to?”
Damn. He wanted me to say it.
I had refused the FBI’s protection and demanded to go home, but had since changed my mind. Someone flinging bullets at you tends to have that effect. He already knew, but he wanted to make me eat crow. I seriously doubted it tasted anything like chicken.
I sighed. “Are you going to tell me how the stupid program works or not?”
“I knew you couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head. He turned around and drove us out of the lot. “Okay, in exchange for your testimony, you’ll be entered into Witness Protection. You’ll receive a new identity, be relocated to a safe house, and given twenty-four hour protection since it’s a high-threat situation. FBI and U.S. Marshals are assisting each other on this case.”
“Then what happens?”
“We put the bad guy behind bars.”
“Sounds easy.”
“It is…for you. We have the hard part,” Jake said. “We have to keep you alive until then.”
“That going to be a problem?”
“Nope. Everything’s under control.”
His reassurance should have put my mind at ease, but it didn’t. I may have been new to the program, but I wasn’t new to men. Jake was confident to a fault, which led me to believe he wasn’t telling me everything. In fact, I was sure of it. Nothing about this would be as easy as he said.
We drove for half an hour when Jake pulled into the parking lot of a run-down motel off I-74. The vacancy sign was half lit, and the landscaping consisted of weeds and spent cigarette butts.
“We’re here,” Jake announced.
“Does the FBI have a suggestion box?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you f*cking kidding me? Thirty minutes outside of town and a crappy motel is the FBI’s idea of relocating me to a safe house?”
The corners of Jake’s mouth threatened to erupt into a full-on smile. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. This is more of a transition station. Have a little more faith in us than that.” Jake got out and opened the back door, keeping his eyes alert as he shuffled me toward a nearby room.
A female agent awaited our arrival. She had on black slacks, a cream silk top, and a pair of chic horn-rimmed glasses. Nerdy, but she had great hair. She smiled at me warmly, then nodded to Jake.
“Agent Ward, I presume? I’m Agent Vickie Rawlings from the FBI’s Indianapolis Division. Two more agents, Agent Franklin and Agent Schafer, are with me. They’re posted outside for the time being.”
“I spotted them when we pulled in,” Jake told her.
Agent Rawlings motioned to me. “Well, are you ready to do this? I have everything we need.”
“Huh?”
“A new identity requires a new look. Lucky for you, my mother owned a hair salon, and I spent every weekend there until I graduated high school. I used to practice on my dolls when I was a child. Actually, you look like one of my old Barbie dolls with all that curly, blond hair.”
I glared at Jake. “You didn’t tell me I had to change my appearance.”
“You have to change your appearance,” he said, mocking me with monotone.
Rawlings grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back of the motel room. “It’ll be fine. You’ll love it when I’m finished.” She pushed me past the vanity and into the bathroom, closing the door with an echoing clang. It may as well have been the cell door closing on my freedom, leaving me with no control and completely at her mercy.
The tiny bathroom didn’t have a mirror, so I couldn’t see what she was doing. My scalp tingled, and the dye smelled caustic, but the color stayed a mystery. Leftover purple gunk in the bowl fueled images of me as a punk rocker sporting a Mohawk.
When it was time to rinse, Rawlings stepped out and came back in with a cellophane-wrapped plastic cup. I wanted to peek in the mirror outside the bathroom door, but didn’t want Jake to see me with a towel draped over my shoulders and hair glued to my head. I was sure I looked as stupid as I felt.
Rawlings rinsed my hair over the tub, toweled it, and combed it before making the first cut. Every snip made me cringe as pieces of my now-brown hair fell to the floor, some segments at least ten inches long. I bit my lip to keep from crying.
Normally, I used a curling iron every day, since my hair is naturally pin straight. When she stopped cutting and blow-dried my hair, Rawlings suggested I keep it that way as part of my new look. My head felt strangely light, as if she’d shaved me bald.
Rawlings stepped back, admiring her work. “Done. You can look now.”
Reluctantly, I opened the door, letting her lead the way, and was glad when I realized Jake wasn’t still in the room. I stepped over to the vanity mirror and peered at my reflection. My hair was a mousy brown color, and the layered cut sat barely past my shoulders. She had given me some face-framing pieces, blended them into the front layers, and added side swept bangs.
“I look like you,” I told her, admiring my cut.
“That’s the point,” she replied, handing me a bag. “Here, now put these on.”
We stepped back into the bathroom, and I opened the bag, half-expecting an ugly turtleneck or a pair of hideous polyester pants. Surprisingly enough, I found the exact outfit Rawlings wore, including a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
Rawlings changed into my clothes, stuffed her own outfit into the bag, and put on a long, curly blond wig she adjusted on her head. When she put on a Kevlar vest, that’s when it dawned on me. She was my decoy.
“Don’t I need to wear one, too?”
“Won’t be necessary,” she said. “If someone is out there watching, then I’ll be the one in danger. They won’t recognize you.”
She tried to comfort me, but I wasn’t feeling warm and fuzzy. I had a knack for attracting unwanted attention. Sergio was proof of that. A vest would’ve made me feel safer but, then again, it wouldn’t keep them from shooting me in the head.
By the time we came out again, Jake was back and joined by three men. Jake stopped talking and looked me over. He didn’t smile or comment, just stared with piercing, impolite eyes. I imagined he liked the new look as well.
“Agent Franklin and Agent Schafer from Indianapolis,” Jake said gesturing to the two men standing behind him. Then he motioned to the third man on his right. “My boss, Harvey Brockway. He’s the Director of the FBI’s Chicago Division.”
The man wore a wrinkled navy blazer, light blue dress shirt, and a loose, slightly askew tie. His thinning gray hair was unkempt, and his bloodshot eyes drooped with bags underneath. He didn’t look like anyone’s boss. He looked like someone who’d rolled out of bed after a rough night.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I only wish it was under better circumstances,” Brockway said, offering me his hand. “Let me assure you we’ll do everything in our power to keep you out of harm’s way.” I nodded, and he gestured to the table. “I brought some documentation for you, Miss Foster.”
I looked at him with confusion. “That isn’t my name.”
“It is now. From this point on, your name is Emily Foster. In the envelope is your new identity, complete with background information. You’ll need to memorize it all. Agent Ward will oversee your transfer to the safe house we set up. From there, three U.S. Marshals will rotate shifts. Someone will be with you at all times. I took the liberty of having some of your personal items from your apartment sent ahead, but if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” I said, thinking Jake could learn a lesson from this man. The consideration Brockway showed in the last five minutes was more than I got from Jake all night long.
After Brockway left, Jake gave the agents their instructions and told them to get moving. Agent Franklin opened the door, looked around, and then walked out. Rawlings followed him closely, keeping her head down timidly as if she were a scared witness. Schafer fell in line behind her.
Jake watched through the peephole, making sure they were gone. “Okay, it’s our turn, Emily.”
Whoa! Emily? That would take some getting used to.
“I’m not going to walk beside you this time,” he explained. “Don’t act nervous or jittery. You’re supposed to be another agent. Stay calm and get in the front seat. Got it, Emily?”
Jeez. I haven’t had the name fifteen minutes, and I’m already sick of hearing it. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Let’s go.”
I walked out casually, sauntering over to the Yukon, and slid into the front passenger seat. I tried to convey confidence and coolness, but I was sweating like a preacher in a whorehouse. As soon as Jake drove us out of the parking area, I blasted the air conditioner and turned the vents toward myself. It wasn’t a good idea. I love silk shirts, but you can’t hide hard nipples under thin material. I thought maybe Jake wouldn’t notice, but of course, he did. After all, he’s a man.
His lingering gaze gave me a slight rush. “What?”
“Nothing,” he replied, grinning. “I’m waiting.”
“For what?” It wasn’t like my nipples were going to sprout tassels and dance for him.
“The nervous breakdown you haven’t had yet.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You’ve had some rather calm responses to what most people would deem disturbing situations. I thought you’d be crying by now.”
I put on a brave face, not wanting him to know how scared I really was. “I’m more of a screamer. But if you want to cry, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
“Jesus. Always a smartass,” he said, focusing his attention back to the road. “Get some rest. We’ll be on the road for another couple of hours before we get to the airport.”
“Airport?”
“A private jet is waiting to take us to a safe, undisclosed location.”
“Which is where?”
“You do know what undisclosed means, right?”
“You’re not going to tell even me?”
“Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. “You still have phone calls you need to make to your family. I have a secure line you can—”
“No.”
His eyes widened. “You can’t call them later. It’s now or never.”
“Fine,” I said with a shrug. “Never.”
He stared at me strangely, not understanding my refusal. “You might want to reconsider and call them. You won’t be able to attend family reunions or even their funerals if someone dies. You need to say good-bye—”
“I don’t…have anybody to call.”
He was taken aback by my response, his brows lifting in questioning slants.
“I buried both of my parents when I was fourteen and don’t have any siblings. I’m alone.”
“Who did you live with when your parents died?”
“Foster homes. Lots of them. Nobody wants a smart-mouth teenager. I figured that out quick.”
“Any other relatives?” he asked.
“No. Probably some distant cousins somewhere who I don’t know, but no one who would know I’m missing, except Gina and Dale. They’re the closest thing I have to family.”
“Your friends from the club? Why don’t you call them?”
I kept my eyes on the window, watching the trees blur past. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t—no, I won’t—say good-bye to anyone else I care about. I’ve already done it too many times.”
“Look, it’s your last chance to contact someone from your former life. It doesn’t matter who—family, friends, an old boss, or even an old boyfriend. You won’t be allowed to do it later.”
I shook my head and, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. He kept looking at me as if I were going to change my mind. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Then you’re officially in federal custody.”
“Now will you tell me where we’re going?”
Jake smirked. “Omaha, Nebraska.”
“What happens when we get there?”
“There are some rules you’ll have to follow.”
“Wait. You didn’t say anything about any rules. I hate rules. Too damn restrictive.”
Jake rolled his eyes at me. “Heaven forbid the feds have rules that could save your life.”
“Too many rules in life already,” I argued. “Wear sunscreen, buckle your seatbelt, practice safe sex. Nothing good ever came from following rules. Okay, well, except for maybe the ‘practice safe sex’ one.”
Jake smiled. “It’s simple. You’ll lay low at the safe house under a new identity until we need you to testify. No outside contact of any kind.”
“And what if my cover is blown?”
“You’re the only one who’ll blow your cover. Don’t ever tell anyone your real name. It would be like voluntarily ejecting yourself from the program and would most likely get you killed. You are Emily Foster. Remember that, because one slipup can change everything.”
“Anything else?”
“Refrain from doing things you’ve done in the past. Change your routine…in fact, don’t even build one. It’ll keep you alive longer.”
“You say that like you don’t expect me to live.”
“Some haven’t,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“What happened to the other three witnesses?”
“Not sure. It’s possible they did something to endanger themselves, like using their real identities.”
“No, I mean…how’d they die?”
He shook his head, and his jaw tightened. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Okay, then you don’t need to know.”
“Come on, Jake! It’s my life we’re talking about. I have a right to know what happened to them.”
Jake stared at me for a full minute before he spoke. “One woman was beaten to death with a hammer, one was shot in the head seven times, and the man’s body was decapitated and dismembered…all five of his limbs.”
“Five? But there’s…oh, never mind.” Jesus. What have I gotten myself into?
“Their bodies were all dumped in cornfields a few days after they disappeared.”
“Eww,” I said, cringing. “I’m never eating corn again.”
…
We were landing just after sunrise when I remembered why I’d always hated flying. The plane was sure to crash on landing. I gripped the armrest tightly, turning my knuckles white, and closed my eyes. A warm hand touched mine and squeezed my fingertips. I cracked an eyelid.
Jake gave me a half-smile. “You’ll be fine,” he said.
Then I felt the jarring bump of the landing and said a silent thank you to the pilot, God, and my digestive system. The plane slowed and taxied down the runway. More relaxed, I opened both eyes. By the time the jet stopped on the tarmac, I was breathing normally. I followed Jake through the exit door of the plane, stopping to blink and adjust my eyes to the bright morning sun.
A black Suburban waited for us, along with two male agents, both wearing dark blue suits and aviator sunglasses. Like that wasn’t a dead giveaway. Jake stepped out before me, shielding my body with his, while visually searching the immediate area with caution.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Just staying alert,” Jake answered. “Quit worrying.”
Easy for him to say. Hard to remain calm when he scrutinized my every move, as if I’d be executed any minute.
The driver opened the back passenger door for us. “I’m Special Agent Riggs and this is my partner, Agent Murphy.”
“I’m Agent Ward and this is Emily.” There’s that name again. Jake gave the agent a quick handshake while steadily shoving me into the backseat. He didn’t bother walking around to get in on the other side. Instead, he pushed me toward the middle and slid in next to me, sitting close enough that our legs touched.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a driveway with a two-car garage attached to a large house, and entered through the front door. I expected old and dilapidated. What I got was far from it. Well hidden on the back side of a lake, the three-bedroom, two-bath home had a stone fireplace, jetted tubs, hardwood floors, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. It was like my own private spa.
Jake was more impressed with the split entryway and walk out basement, explaining how it gave me a choice of exits if anything went wrong. Probably the reason they chose it. The pool table in the basement must’ve been a bonus for the unfortunate souls stuck guarding me for any length of time.
“We’ve already swept the house for bugs,” one of the agents told Jake.
“Good,” I said. “I hate bugs.”
Both agents glanced at Jake, not knowing if they were supposed to take me seriously.
“She has a wisecrack for everything,” Jake told them. “You’ll get used to it.”
Agent Riggs shook his head. “We’re the security detail for the transfer, not babysitters. They won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“What?” Jake yelled. “Three U.S. Marshals were supposed to be guarding her upon arrival. Who authorized the twenty-four hour delay?”
“Director Harvey Brockway from Chicago. He asked us to inform you of the change once you arrived, since four marshals from the Nebraska district were caught in an explosion during the night. They’re down some manpower and adjustments had to be made. Director Brockway said to tell you he cleared your schedule for the next few days.”
“Brockway, huh? I’m surprised he didn’t call me himself.”
Riggs shrugged. “You two are on your own, at least for tonight.”
Damn. They were leaving us alone overnight. Probably not a good thing. Maybe I could avoid Jake and keep from talking to him. Yeah, right. Like I could go twenty-four hours without talking. Hell, no woman could do that.
Riggs smiled, reading the sheer panic on my face, before he continued. “The fridge is stocked, and there are clothes for each of you in your rooms. Brockway sent them. Explorer in the garage has a full tank of gas and is equipped with a tracking device in the GPS. Keys are on the counter, along with the code for the security system to the house.”
As soon as the agents left, Jake locked the door behind them and activated the alarm. I went upstairs to the master bedroom to look for my clothes and the nearest bathroom. Jake followed me, then stood leaning against the bedroom wall. He watched as I dug through the dresser drawers and found a pair of bikini underwear, a white tank top, and a pair of green striped pajama bottoms.
I headed for the bathroom.
“Don’t lock the door in case I need to get to you fast,” Jake said.
“But I’ll be naked.”
He paused. “So let me get this straight. If the bad guys storm the castle, you’d rather be dead than for me to see you naked?” He glared at me with a controlled intensity that forced me to look away.
“Fine. I’ll leave the door unlocked. But you better hope no one storms the castle while I’m in there.”
I had planned to soak in the tub for a while, but after what Jake said, I opted to take a quick bath instead. He stood in the same position when I came back out, except some clothes had materialized under his arm.
As soon as I stepped clear of the bathroom, he walked in and turned the water on. I sat on the king-size bed across from the bathroom, thinking he’d shut the door. But I was wrong.
He removed his shirt, baring his nicely chiseled abs and well-defined pectoral muscles. A sexy treasure trail of hair led into his pants, and I salivated as I thought about following it. He was all hard muscles and tanned, firm skin. I had the sudden urge to run my fingers up his back and my tongue down his front.
He removed his pants, then pulled off his boxer briefs as I watched in anticipation. Please, no ass hair. Please. Aha! There is a God. I started to smile, but glanced up from his rear to see him looking back at me in the mirror. Oops.
“Might want to shut the door,” I told him. “Especially if you’re going to use my bathroom.”
“Sorry, but without someone else here to keep an eye on you, we’ll have to make do. If you don’t want to look, then turn your head.”
If I don’t want to look? Was he f*cking crazy? Of course, I wanted to look. That was the problem.
To spare my sanity, I averted my eyes. But it chewed my insides raw with frustration. As soon as Jake stepped into the tub, I thunked the back of my head against the headboard several times.
“What’s that noise?” Jake yelled over the sound of the water.
Jesus. I couldn’t even bang my head on something without having to answer to him. “It was me. Sorry.”
Moments later, Jake turned the water off. I could hear him in the bathroom shuffling around, but didn’t look. His glorious, naked body was a twist of the neck away, and I refused myself the view. It was cruel and unusual punishment.
Just so I wasn’t tempted, I stepped over to the bedroom window and peered out at the backyard, watching a small bird flitter from tree to tree in the late morning sun. I didn’t hear Jake approach me from behind, when he grasped my arm, startling me.
“Stay away from the windows,” he said, moving me toward the bed. “It’s the last place you want to be standing if someone shoots at the house.”
Gee, thanks a lot. Like I needed that neurosis for the rest of my life.
I sat on the bed, but he stayed standing. His hair was damp, which made it look a darker shade of brown than it actually was. He was more relaxed and comfortable now that he put on a pair of Levi’s and a T-shirt. It was strange, though. I didn’t picture him as a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. It looked good on him.
“I’m surprised you aren’t wearing pajamas,” I told him. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I don’t sleep in pajamas.”
“You sleep in jeans? That’s weird.”
Jake gave me one of his incredible smiles, showing his gleaming white teeth. “I don’t usually have anything on me in bed…unless it’s a woman.”
I struggled to maintain my composure, but practically melted into the mattress. I smiled back, though I think mine came off more like an Elvis impersonation. What the hell is wrong with me?
Seconds later, I answered my own question.
My mind did a mental rewind of the evening and paused on the memory of Jake kissing me in the club—not once, but twice—and my nipples tightened. Okay, I was obviously attracted to him. But he was a jerk, right? Before I knew he was an agent, I’d toggled between wanting to kiss him or slap him. So far, kissing had won out.
“We should probably talk about what happened between us last night,” Jake proposed, sitting next to me on the bed.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want him to apologize for anything or tell me it was a mistake. It was his job…I knew that. But hearing him say his memories of our kiss weren’t as fond as mine would be damaging to my mental well-being. I didn’t want to rehash the evening with him because then I’d have to wallow in self-pity, something I refused to do with an audience.
Jake sat quietly, waiting for me to speak. His eyes met mine, and the swell of inner emotions restricted the blood flow to my brain. The intense way he focused on me made my mind and body feel out of alignment. I liked him. A lot. There’s just something hot about a guy who’s willing to take a bullet for you.
I tried to conquer the voice in my head, but it was no use. God, I was falling for him. Again.
After a dizzying deliberation, my brain went on hiatus, and I made a ballsy move. I grabbed Jake and kissed him. It was eager, aggressive, impulsive…and not returned.
Jake grabbed my arms firmly and pushed me away. His eyes trained on me as he gave me a pensive look and tightened his jaw. Jake’s lips pursed as he breathed out through his nose, his eyebrows gathering over the bridge. Yep, definitely mad.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. I felt rejected, not to mention embarrassed. Was I so self-deluded that I hadn’t realized the little effect I actually had on him? Okay, he could’ve faked the kiss in the club. But there was no mistaking the giant beanstalk in his pants.
“I-I’m sorry,” I said, though I didn’t feel particularly guilty. “I just thought…”
Without warning, Jake stood and crossed the room, putting distance between us. I didn’t dare look at him with my heated cheeks. They were probably as red as I was stupid. Instead, I plopped back, pulled a blanket over my head, and tried to smother myself.
Naturally, I wanted to smooth things over, but I doubted he’d give me the chance. He made it unmistakably clear he wanted nothing to do with me. Maybe he was cranky and sleep deprived. Or maybe he didn’t have to pretend anymore. Whatever it was, it left me scratching my head, but I refused to be interested in a guy who wasn’t interested in me. Well, it sounded good, anyway.
I don’t know if the long, traumatic night finally caught up with me, or if the oxygen deprivation had something to do with it, but I must’ve passed out. When I opened my eyes again, the sun had already gone down. If the clock next to the bed was correct, then I had spent the entire day unconscious.
Jake sat across the room in a chair with his laptop, notebook, and a pen. He didn’t look up. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, hoping he wouldn’t talk to me.
“I know you’re awake.”
Crap.
Jake clicked his pen, and I heard him set it down. “We need to talk.”
I opened my eyes to see him moving toward the bed with a masculine saunter. “Talk about what?”
“You know what.”
I avoided making eye contact, but knew he watched me. His laser-sharp stare sliced into me with surgical precision. It was nerve-racking, though I craved his attention. The problem with Jake was that he was addictive. I don’t know why I felt so strongly for a guy I barely knew, but I desperately wanted to quit him cold turkey. I needed a distraction until he left. Then, problem solved.
I shook my head and played stupid. “You have to be more specific.”
“We need to talk about you kissing me this morning.”
“No, we don’t,” I said, though I meant I’d rather gouge out my eyes with a dull pencil.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re impulsive…and stubborn…and you don’t think things through…and I—”
“I don’t need you to point out anything. I’m not oblivious to my flaws.”
“You’re actually admitting you have some?”
“Jerk.”
He grinned. “If I’m such a jerk, then why throw yourself at me?”
We both went silent. My eyes fastened to his, and I realized we were sizing each other up. I began to sweat. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice growing more hostile. “I’ve regretted that decision ever since. It won’t happen again.”
He shook his head and sat next to me. “You know what your problem is? You’re mad because you kissed me, and I didn’t fall over with my dick hard.”
My nostrils flared, and I saw red. “Funny, I don’t recall your dick having any problems getting hard the other times.”
“You know what? I was wrong. You don’t need sex. You need a f*cking Valium.”
“Who said anything about sex? You’re quite presumptuous. It was just a kiss, nothing more. No offer of anything else.”
Jake grinned. “Oh, you made an offer all right, whether you admit it or not. Now you’re mad because I didn’t take you up on it.”
My head spun, and my heart pounded. What he said was true, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Better hope no one comes for me and accidentally shoots you between the eyes. It might puncture your ego and let all of the swelling out of your head.”
“Excuse me for being a gentleman. I’m not a guy who takes advantage of someone in an emotionally vulnerable state.”
“Laaaame.”
“What’s lame?”
“You are. And stupid. That’s your idiotic attempt at shifting the responsibility onto me. Gentleman, my ass. You weren’t such a gentleman in the club, either. So don’t think for one second I’m buying it.” Jake sat there stewing in his own juices. I had pushed his buttons, rendering him speechless. “Do you know what bothered you about that kiss?” I asked, not waiting for him to answer. “You obviously wanted it to lead to something more.”
“Jesus Christ, woman! We don’t have to have sex. There’s enough damn friction between us to last a lifetime.”
“What’s wrong? Afraid you might enjoy it?”
“It’s sex. Of course, I’d enjoy it. That’s why it can’t happen.” Jake held my gaze. I recognized a battle of wills when I saw one. Not only that, but he was losing. That’s why his feathers were ruffled. “Sex is intimate and has a psychological element to it,” he added.
“Take the intimacy out of the equation.”
“I can’t,” he said, giving me a contemplative look. “You know I’m leaving tomorrow. That leaves a moral and ethical dilemma to consider.”
“You said it yourself, Jake…I know what this is. It’s been clearly stated. There aren’t going to be any issues to air out later. No strings attached. Just keep it casual.”
Jeez. Either I was twisted, or my brain had taken a leave of absence. Everything coming out of my mouth was bullshit. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop the flow. I’d relish in the moment and suffer the consequences later. And, as bad as I had it for him, there would be some definite consequences.
I didn’t want him to leave. When my parents died, I refused to say good-bye to anyone else. Jake would be my first good-bye after all these years. He’d leave, and I’d be alone. It was a vicious circle.
With no warning, Jake grabbed me by the back of my neck and covered my mouth with his. I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back as he dipped his tongue inside and swirled it in time with mine. His warm hand found its way under my shirt, cupping my breast, rubbing my nipple between his fingers.
I pulled at Jake’s shirt until he released me long enough to help jerk it over his head. He tossed it to the floor and yanked mine off as well. Then, he pushed me back onto the bed, sliding his hands over me. He slipped a nipple in between his teeth and gently tugged on it. Pleasure raced through my body in surges, making me arc farther into his awaiting mouth.
My nether region was on fire. The sensations were well worth surrendering to, but I’d pay dearly when it came time for him to leave. This was all we would have. One night together.
“Do you have a condom?”
“The FBI taught me to always be prepared,” he said, grinning.
I smiled back. “Even when it’s meaningless sex?”
His face turned serious. “I don’t do meaningless sex.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t have time to respond before his hand found its way inside my pants and pushed them down. I kicked them off my feet as Jake hovered over me, staring down the length of my body. He wasn’t moving anymore. One minute, he was unbuttoning his pants, and the next, he was frozen in time.
“Okay, what the f*ck is that?” he asked.