Hard, throbbing.
Wanting.
Then she stood up, a determined expression on her face. She held my gaze for another beat and then turned around to face the door. Instead of opening it like I thought she would, she pulled her pants down and looked over her shoulder at me.
I barely registered her look, however. I was too busy staring at her ass. Her panties were still on, a barely there piece of lace that made her all the more tempting.
A temptation I was in no way about to resist.
I reached out and put one hand on her hip, the other moving between us to pull aside her panties. I was balls deep inside her before she could change her mind, and we both groaned as our bodies came together. I slid my hands up under her shirt, cupping her breasts over her bra. I would've preferred touching her skin, but this wasn't some romantic tryst. This wasn't even the sort of sex that came from years of pent-up tension and waiting. This was down and dirty fucking.
I kissed the side of her neck as I thrust into her, sucking and licking the soft skin, listening to the moans falling from her mouth. Her face was turned away from me, but I could tell she was biting her lips, muffling the sound.
I shoved my hand down the front of her panties, my fingers slipping between her slick folds to find her throbbing clit. Her body jerked against me, pussy squeezing me tight enough to make me mutter a curse. Neither one of us were going to last much longer.
I nipped at her neck, then growled when she responded by clenching around me. I pressed my fingers harder against her clit as I drove deep. Once. Twice. And then she was coming.
I pressed my face against the side of her neck, body tensing as I followed her over the edge. I stayed inside her, breathing in her scent, listening to her panting, and wished that we didn't have to leave. I knew that as soon as we stepped back into the hallway, Karis would be reminded of all the reasons why this couldn't keep happening, why the two of us would never work.
She moved first, and I pulled out, taking a step back so she could pull her pants back up. She didn't look at me as she stepped out of the closet, but it wasn't until a few seconds later, when I tucked my still-sensitive cock back into my pants, that I realized we hadn't used a condom. Again.
I ran my hand through my hair, silently cursing as I left the closet. I knew better. I'd always known better. Karis was the only woman who'd ever been able to make me forget. Proof of how much she screwed with my head.
I knew I needed to apologize for it, but I wasn't sure how. In fact, I was pretty sure Karis wouldn’t want to talk about what we'd done at all. I headed for her office, doing my best to look casual, and hoping that I didn't look like I'd just had sex in a supply closet.
I could still feel her walls hugging my shaft, still feel the heat of her. I adjusted myself in an attempt to ignore the sensation but couldn’t. There was nothing I could do to ignore what just happened, even though I knew Karis would want to.
“Benita not back yet?”
Her voice came from behind me, but I didn't look at her as I answered, “Doesn't look like it.”
“Good. Now, let’s get back to work.” Her words weren't cold or cruel, but we were definitely back into professional territory. “Without any leads from last night, we have to think of another way to find Uaine.”
The edge to her voice suggested that she held me at least partially responsible for our lack of information, telling me I wasn’t completely out of the woods with her yet. I wouldn’t stop trying though. Even though she was trying to shut herself back down for work and cram herself back into that professional mold, I felt the difference between us. What happened in that closet, impulsive or not, had shifted something between us.
“Here comes Benita,” I murmured when I heard the other woman coming.
“Well, you two certainly seem to be doing better,” she said as she stood next to Karis’ desk and looked us both over. Her gaze returned to her partner and lingered. “Find anything?”
I threw the newspaper back on the desk. “This isn’t going to work,” I announced before Karis could answer the question.
They both looked at me, surprised.
I sighed. “If he didn't come out for Leticia's estate, nothing else is going to get him to show his face. We’re going to have to find another way to reach out to him.”
“Do you have anything in mind?” Benita asked, raising an eyebrow.
I didn't. Not anything to do with Uaine anyway. The only thing that kept circling in my mind was the realization I'd come to while sitting here near Karis, trying to figure out what might happen between us. There was desire, obviously, and plenty of chemistry, but I couldn't lie to myself that I didn't want more.
I wanted a relationship, and not because of what we'd had as children, or what I'd wanted for all these years. I didn't want some fantasy of who I'd always thought she would be. I wanted this Karis, the woman she'd become not in spite of her childhood, but because of it.
And I didn't just want her. I had to admit it now.
I loved her.
The girl she'd been and the woman she was.
She was the love of my life.
And I had no idea what in the hell I was going to do about it.
Chapter Twelve
Karis
Despite what had happened between Bron and me in the closet, I still caught myself trying to maintain my professionalism after work. What I'd said and what I'd done had been total opposites, which wasn't surprising since I felt at complete odds with myself. None of what happened had made anything any clearer or easier.
Actually, no, that was a lie.
I knew now, more than ever, that I wanted something with Bron that was more than what we had. I didn't want just a physical thing, no matter how good it felt. I didn't want flirtation. I wanted something real.
I wasn't sure what Bron wanted. Well, I knew he wanted sex, but beyond that, I still wasn't sure. A part of me couldn’t help but feel like he'd somehow manipulated me into screwing in the closet, even though I was the one who initiated it.
It was so hard to tell with him whether he was being genuine or manipulative. He was a world class con artist. He’d manipulated people in more cities and probably more countries than I could have named. But I also wanted to believe that he'd been honest with me at least. That the things that'd happened between us had all been genuine, no matter how confused.
Leaving the subway, I tapped his arm and nodded up ahead. “There’s a nice little diner about a block from my apartment. Dinner's on me.”
We’d stayed late at the office, pouring over every single lead we’d ever had on Uaine Leconte or any of his aliases. Bron had spent most of the afternoon on the phone, reaching out to old connections that may have bought his story about being dropped as a star witness by the FBI and needing help getting ahold of Uaine so he could get back on his feet and back to work. While I'd found nothing new in my stacks and stacks of names, he hadn't been able to find anyone willing to give him the time of day. At the very least, I felt like we’d both earned a warm meal prepared by someone else.
“Whatever you want to do.” His smile was a little tight, but I didn't sense any animosity.
“Excellent. You’re going to love this place.”
“It’s not just burgers, is it?” he asked cautiously.
“No, it’s more than burgers, but they have those too,” I said as I held the door for him.
It was nice to be able to relax while we ate and talked about the day. I tried to treat him like my partner and friend, not like my lover. I wanted more from him, but I was so exhausted from everything that I didn’t know if I could manage to deal with anything even remotely complex at the moment. And my feelings for Bron were beyond complex.
“So, what do you think?” I gestured to his salad.
“It’s a salad,” he said with a laugh.
“If you don’t like salads, why did you order one?” I came back with a grin.
He stopped, looked at his plate, then looked at
me. He shrugged. “I don’t know. It looked good on the menu.”
“What all’s on it?” I asked.
He sighed. “Grilled chicken and some other stuff.” He was down to just the lettuce and other green vegetables. “How was yours?”
I'd had a patty melt. I’d offered him a bite of it, but he said it was “just a cheeseburger on toast.” He wasn’t entirely wrong, but that hadn't made it any less delicious. “It was pretty good. Greasy. Made me feel human again after today.”
“I bet. It was a pretty rough day, coming up empty like that. Does that happen often?” he asked. He was expressing genuine interest, which I thought was strange.
“You’d be surprised,” I told him. “There are a lot of times when no matter what we do, we come up with nothing.”
“That has to be pretty frustrating.”
“Yeah.” I didn't mind when the conversation faded to nothing. That was the nice thing about small talk between two people who knew each other well. I grabbed the bills from the edge of the table and placed a few folded up bills under the side of my plate to cover the meal.
He finished his salad and wiped his mouth. “Well, it looks like you’re ready to go home.”
“I am.” My stomach fluttered at the word. If I was being completely honest, part of the reason I hadn't wanted to go back to the apartment just yet was because I wasn't sure I was ready to be alone with him in private.
He smiled at me. “Then, let’s go.”
On the way out, we waved to our server and the cook. Back out in the fresh night air, I felt some of the day's tension melting away. Without really thinking about it, I began to move closer to him, walking so that our hands brushed together. After a moment, he hooked his pinky around mine, a gesture that went all the way back to when we'd first started walking to school together as kids.
“Dinner was good,” I said.
“It was.”
I heard the grin in his voice, and I wondered if he was thinking back like I was, and if so, what the memories were that came to him. Did he remember the times we'd defended our friendship to the schoolyard bullies? Or maybe how we'd once gotten in trouble for rescuing a box of kittens and taking them into my house before checking to see if they had fleas.
Suddenly, from behind us, a voice broke through my memories.
“Bron!”
It was a familiar voice, but I wasn't able to place it right away. Bron and I turned around together even though I was already getting a bad feeling in my gut. My hand went to my weapon even as I took a half step in front of Bron.
“Uaine,” Bron said the name even as my brain registered what I was seeing
The man I'd been searching for now stood a few yards back from us, gun drawn. His hand was steady, his eyes cold – a dangerous combination.
“Leconte,” I shouted as I pulled out my gun. “It doesn’t have to go down like this.”
He laughed. “We both know how this will end, Agent Melendez.”
Time froze. From where I stood, I saw his eyes focus on me, and I knew what he was going to do.
Bron shouted, but it was all background noise.
I pulled my gun free and started to raise it even as I saw the muscles in Uaine’s hand squeeze the trigger. I remembered Bron’s face when he’d warned me about how dangerous this man was. At the time, I hadn’t been scared. After all, I had back-up and protection.
Now, I had no back-up. No protection.
And I was scared.
Very scared.
As the muzzle flashed, I realized I should have taken the threat seriously.
The story continues in Con Man Book 5. Turn the page to keep reading.
Con Man Book 5
Chapter One
Karis
The crack of the shot exploded through the air, but before I could make myself move, a pair of hands shoved me from behind, knocking me to the ground.
Bron.
Adrenaline flooded my body, clicking my brain into that hyperaware place it went when faced with a situation like this. Not that I'd ever been shot at before.
I rolled and sprang to my feet, grateful to see that my gun was still in my hand. Bron was on the sidewalk as well and for one heart-stopping moment, I thought he'd been hit. Then he looked up at me, his cerulean eyes blazing.
“Go.”
I turned and ran after the man who'd tried to kill me. Uaine Leconte was a good dozen yards ahead, pushing his way through groups of people, but I had almost half a foot on him in height, and a lot of that was because of my long legs. One of my strides was close to double of his.
“FBI!” I shouted as I ran. “Stop! FBI!”
I felt sort of silly yelling after Uaine like that since I knew that there was no way he would just stop and surrender. He knew who I worked for, and he'd tried to shoot me. Authority didn't seem to mean much of anything to him. But, identifying myself during a chase, gun in hand, was more important than how weird I felt shouting it. Aside from the fact that a defense attorney would have a field day with an agent who hadn't formally identified himself or herself, the people between Uaine and me needed to know that I was the good guy. The last thing I wanted was some Samaritan with good intentions coming after me because they thought Uaine was being harassed.
I followed him around the corner onto a less busy street, craning my neck to see above and around people. If we'd been running flat-out, I would've caught up with him, no problem, but the kind of dodging and weaving he was doing took more than just long legs. It was clear Uaine was used to having to get out of tight spots.
I just had to make sure I didn't let him shake me. As long as I could see him, I still had a chance to catch him. I kept my eyes on the back of his head, following that ridiculously expensive haircut as it weaved around people. At one point, he darted out into the street between two cars, narrowly missing being hit by one. I held up my hand and ignored the blaring horns as I ran into the street after him, cutting behind the car that had almost taken him down for me.
“Uaine Leconte!” I shouted his name again as I crossed onto a new sidewalk. “FBI! Stop!”
He cut into an alley between two apartment buildings and I scowled at the narrow space. I wasn't claustrophobic, but I wasn't fond of narrow spaces, especially the kind between tall buildings where I couldn't see the sky unless I looked straight up. The fact that it was late in the evening made it worse since the streetlights didn't really penetrate the shadows. And the guy I was after was carrying a gun.
I paused when I reached the alley and listened, straining to hear footsteps. When I didn't hear anything, I crept slowly between the two buildings, taking my time to check behind the garbage cans and other various things stacked up next to the houses in case Uaine was hiding. When a privacy fence emerged from the shadows, my stomach sank. Uaine wasn't hiding. He was gone. I looked over the top of the fence, hoping that it'd led to some small, enclosed space where Uaine was trapped.
No such luck.
“Uaine!” I called his name, then waited and listened. I heard traffic and people, but no sound of running feet.
“Damn!” I holstered my gun and walked back up to the street. “Dammit!”
I suppressed the urge to punch something as I stepped out of the alley. Uaine was gone, and I'd left Bron back near the restaurant. My pulse thudded in my ears. Bron had his tracker on, but I'd left him unsupervised in the middle of the sidewalk. No one would've noticed if he'd slipped away, even if someone back at the office was monitoring him. They'd just think that the two of us were walking back to my place.
I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to pull myself together. I needed to call in the shooting, especially since I’d drawn my weapon in public, but first, I needed to find out if I had to add losing Bron to my list of shit I would need to clean up. I pulled out my phone as I started to walk back toward the restaurant.
“Karis!”
My stomach did a flip, and I told myself not to get my hopes up. No matter how much I wanted Bron to have cha
nged, he was still a criminal. Then someone started across the street, and I saw the familiar tall, lean frame, the messy bronze-colored hair.
He hadn't run.
I met him at the curb. “Thank you for not running.”
He grinned at me, but his eyes were shadowed. “Where's Uaine?”
“He got away,” I said. I headed toward a crosswalk and Bron fell in step next to me. I didn't realize I was limping until Bron asked me if I was okay. Only then did the dull throb of pain make its way into my conscious mind. The adrenaline was wearing off. “I think I landed on my knee when you pushed me out of the way.” I gave him a sideways glance. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
“That was pretty impressive, Karis, getting to see you in action like that.”
“Still lost him,” I said grimly.
There were already people crowded around the restaurant and I knew it was a good bet someone had already called the cops. I dialed Benita's direct number even as I pulled my badge from my waistband.
“Benita, we've got a situation.” I didn't even wait for her to ask. “Uaine showed up and shot at me. I'm okay, but he got away. We're going to need CSU out here and some agents to deal with the locals. No one's here yet, but I know they will be.” I gave her the address, and she hung up without a word.
I held up my badge and began to push my way through the crowd. Bron followed, and I was sure his size helped clear the way as much as my badge did.
“Everyone back up. This is a crime scene.” I kept my voice loud and even. “FBI. This is a crime scene.”
I heard the sirens before I saw the blue and red lights flashing. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus. I could deal with the rest of this later. Right now, I had to make sure this all got done by the book.
* * *
It was nearly ten o'clock by the time Benita and the cops were satisfied that they had everything they needed, and I was told I could go home. Since I was involved, I wasn't allowed to work the scene, and my statement would become part of the official record, which meant I didn't have to do the paperwork either.