Burn (Page 91)

"I thought you were leaving," he said, sounding almost disappointed.

"Nope. This is my stateroom, after all," she said. "They’d probably kick you out of this room if I left the cruise, and wouldn’t that be a pain in the ass. The difference now is, I’m not a prisoner, I’m a partner."

"Like hell you are."

She gave him a very satisfied smile. "And honey, I’m not nearly as easy as you seem to think I am. Once we get off this damn boat, where are you going to take me on our first date?"

Chapter Twenty-eight

JENNER CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM IN HER PAJAMAS, her face freshly scrubbed, her nipples pebbled against her thin tank. It was all Cael could do not to groan. He had to be the biggest fool on earth, to think he was in control of anything where she was concerned. He’d known she was going to be trouble the first time she opened her mouth. He just hadn’t known how much trouble – or what kind.

She picked up the conversation they’d been having before she’d changed as if there had been no break. "So," she mused. "CIA? NSA? FBI?" A hint of a smile teased the corners of her lips. "Coast Guard? Since we’re partners now, there’s no reason for you to hold out on me."

He had to set her straight, sooner rather than later. "We’re not partners."

She was unshaken, completely unaffected by his edict. "I say we are. So, details, please. What have you gotten me into?"

He considered turning his back, but that could be dangerous, and ignoring Jenner Redwine was getting more and more difficult. In the end, he didn’t even try. Maybe she’d earned the truth. "Let’s just say that not everyone who does work for the government actually works for the government."

"That’s as clear as mud."

"No dental, no pension plan …"

"Contract work," she said, without even a hint of alarm in her voice.

It was dangerous for her to know too much, but she was already in a dangerous position. She already knew too damn much. He nodded once, and returned his attention to the audio and video he’d been reviewing before she’d interrupted him. Larkin had opened his laptop tonight, but it was hard to tell if he’d signed onto the Internet or not. If he had, Faith would have the details shortly. Might be nothing, but then again, maybe there would be a clue about what he was up to with Mills.

He didn’t handcuff Jenner to the chair. Why bother? She’d had several chances to blow his cover and she hadn’t done it. If she’d headed out the door when he’d told her she was free, would he have stopped her? Maybe, maybe not. Didn’t matter; she was still here.

A date?

She crawled into bed, pulled the covers to her chin, said good night, and closed her eyes.

Like it or not, she was into the shit damn near as deeply as he was.

JENNER WOKE A COUPLE OF TIMES, realized Cael still wasn’t in the bed with her, and opened one eye to see that he still sat in the chair by the bed, watching and listening to the man next door. What could be so important that he’d rather be over there than in bed with her?

She sighed. While she knew very few details, she knew what he was doing was truly important. She’d heard enough, seen enough to know that much.

The bed dipped, waking her, when Cael finally came to bed. She sighed, rolled toward him, and found him propped on his elbow watching her. "What is it?" she asked, then blinked when she saw he was naked. Completely.

"My turn," he said, and pulled her under him.

She shot awake, her heartbeat going from normal to shuttle blastoff in something like a tenth of a second. His heavy weight crushed her into the mattress. "What? Wait!"

"Wait, my ass," he said in a goaded tone as he grabbed the hem of her tank top and dragged it off over her head. The sudden exposure sent her senses reeling, and she would have done something totally silly like covering her breasts if he hadn’t shackled her wrists with his hands and pinned them to the pillow on each side of her head as he looked down at her. In the lamplight she could see the way his features clenched, and her nipples pinched tight in response – not from the cold, not a simple reaction to being touched, but a response to him, all heat and power and dark sex.

He slid farther down in the bed, still holding her wrists, and clamped his mouth over one thrusting nipple. Pleasure so sharp it was almost pain shot through her breast. She made a keening sound as his tongue stabbed at her nipple, circled it, before he sucked hard and deep. She bucked under the lash of sensation, straining against his grip, his weight, those wilds sounds still coming from her mouth.

He made a rough sound against her breast, and released one hand so he could reach down and give a mighty tug at her pajama bottoms, shaking her out of them as if he were shaking a pillow out of a pillowcase. He had to completely turn her loose to accomplish the job and she tumbled to the other side of the bed. He dragged her back into position and covered her, putting his hands behind her knees and lifting them around him.

If the past few tumultuous minutes counted as foreplay, that was all she got. He reached down between them, said, "Fuck!" in a strained voice, and reached for the bedside table. Blinking in confusion, Jenner turned her head and stared in amazement at the number of foil packs scattered across the tabletop.

"Holy hell," she blurted.

He tore open the foil, rolled the condom on with a few fast, rough motions, and pushed into her – that fast, that hard, that intent.

She sucked in a deep breath, half-closing her eyes as she absorbed the sensation. She was just barely wet enough to take him, and he was so thick and long … another of those helpless, keening sounds burst from her throat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she tried to anchor herself, but he was taking exactly what she had offered. As he’d said, it was his turn, so she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave herself over to him.