A Pair of Jacks (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

Marie wondered where she would be stationed next, hoping it would be somewhere less pretentious than Paris, but not as volatile as Africa.

Xavier’s secretary, Tina, buzzed into the office announcing Jack Benson had arrived. Xavier set his drink down, turning to face Marie again. “Jack’s a good man. Hard as nails, but I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more. Don’t give him a hard time.”

“I’ll behave,” she promised, finishing her drink and standing to greet her new, and unwanted, bodyguard. She told herself it was only a matter of time. Surely, she could handle a couple of weeks. By then, Yuri would make his move. Never a patient man in the best of circumstances, he also had to deal with time constraints. By the nature of his line of work, he would be forced to solve his problems quickly and permanently. He’d come after her soon.

The double doors of Xavier’s office opened slightly, and a muscular man wearing a dark suit stepped through onto the plush beige carpeting. Despite the fact he did nothing more than step inside the room, Marie could tell Jack Benson was coiled energy. She felt it radiating off him like a force field of power. His blue eyes missed nothing as they examined the room, and her, with a seemingly dispassionate interest, before settling on Xavier.

“Good to see you again,” he said to Xavier, and Marie’s heart speed up. Honest to God, the man had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard. It was low and husky, pitched barely above a whisper.

“Good to see you, Jack. This is Marie Maxwell. She’s been undercover in Europe three years. Her assignment to infiltrate the Russian crime syndicate was nearly completed when someone breached our security barriers and downloaded all our European operations files. We have to assume Marie has been compromised along with all the other ops we were running. Our agents have been called home, and safety precautions are being taken. As you know, the President has asked that you personally handle Marie’s case.”

Jack held out his hand to her and Marie took it, curious to feel his skin against hers. She wasn’t surprised to find his fingers were callused from work and martial arts conditioning. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

He didn’t mean it, of course, neither did she, but they were both playing nice for the time being.

“Like a drink, Jack?” Xavier went back to the bar to pour himself another one, no doubt trying to numb the loss of his European theater. Marie didn’t blame him for being upset. Everything was up in smoke with no way to get back in. GSA would have to start over again, building new contacts from the street up. It would take years to rebuild the system of street intelligence they’d lost.

“Not while I’m working, sir.”

Marie figured Benson as former military, special ops of some kind, by the look of him. He had that alert, hard-edged control men develop when they live under constant danger.

With his short, tousled brown hair and stern face, he wasn’t a man Marie would call terminally handsome, but he
was
utterly masculine, and therefore attractive because of the testosterone he exuded. By the way her body reacted to him, she wondered if it leaked out of his pores under the suit he wore. Jack Benson had rugged, alpha male down to perfection. She could understand why her uncle picked him for this mission.

Like a caged animal waiting to be released, powerful muscles rippled under the layers of clothing he wore. It crossed Marie’s mind that she’d like to see him undressed before she managed to give herself a mental slap back into the reality at hand. Jack glanced over at Marie as if he could read her thoughts, and she gave him a challenging smile that he didn’t return. Okay, so his personality sucked. He was still a sexy man.

Get a grip, Marie.

‘He’s not that sexy.’

Yes, he is
.

‘He’s dangerous.’

Ohhh, yes, he’s very dangerous.

‘The badass action hero is not your type.’

No, but he could be.

Pouring himself another small measure of scotch, Xavier gave a little shake of his head as if he needed to let his anxiety go, then he turned to face Jack and Marie, holding his glass up in a toast he didn’t get to verbalize.

One minute he was standing, the next, blood sprayed the room and he fell forward, spilling the scotch. The tumbler rolled out of his lifeless fingers, stopping just a short distance from where he fell. Then all hell broke loose.

Jack put himself between the window and Marie, positioning his body to take any stray bullets while he rushed her out of the room. He didn’t pause in the reception area. Instead, he hauled Marie toward the elevators, half lifting her off the floor with one arm while he pushed her along in front of him at a run. His right hand held a black plated automatic pistol that he’d carried in a concealed holster under his suit jacket.

“Xavier’s down. Get the hell out of here, Tina,” he yelled to Xavier’s secretary while sprinting for the elevator. “Take the stairs and go. You know the drill. I’ll be in touch.”

A man dressed in a conservative suit rushed out of his office when he heard Jack’s shouted warning. He headed for the elevators at a dead run, sliding across the floor in his slick bottomed dress shoes. From the panicked look on his face, it was obvious he wasn’t a field agent. At least not one used to dealing with operations that involved personal danger. The man cut in front of Jack, blocking his view of the elevator and surrounding area.

“Take the stairs,” Jack ordered with a look of annoyance on his hard features.

“No, I want out of here now.” The man’s voice came dangerously close to sounding like a spoiled child’s whine. “What if there are gunmen in the stairwell? I have a right to use the elevator. I’m getting on whether you like it or not.” Positioning himself squarely in front of the doors, he glared arrogantly at Jack, mustering up what Marie imagined was his best bureaucratic attempt to look threatening. She thought it might work with the clerks and secretaries in the office, but she doubted the glare would carry much weight for Jack Benson.

In a lightening quick move, using the butt of the pistol, Jack smacked the office worker on the side of his head, sending him sprawling face down on the carpet. “I said take the stairs,” he growled in his gravely soft voice.

The elevator opened with a soft
whooshing
sound, and the man scrambled back to his feet, lunging forward one more time. Jack shoved Marie inside the open doors with enough force, she stumbled against the back wall. He steadied her with one hand while aiming the pistol straight at the bureaucrat’s chest to stop him in mid-step. Jerking back in surprise, the frightened office worker sputtered as the metal doors slid closed blocking his protests.

“Damn it,” Jack muttered. He frantically dug a cell phone out of his pocket while glancing upward to make sure no one was riding on the top of the elevator car.

Marie knew the elevators had been designed with Plexiglas ceilings and strategically positioned lights that would show a silhouette of anything attached to the car, human or otherwise. Bombs were considered one of the most dangerous threats to government offices dealing with national or global security. Therefore, a great deal of effort had been put forth in designing the building in a way to make hiding explosives difficult, in not impossible. Obviously, satisfied they were alone, Jack punched a speed dial number and waited.

Marie looked down at the droplets of red splattered across her ivory suit. She wanted to cry. She began to tremble, and tears welled in her eyes as she stared at Xavier’s blood. He had a wife and kids. He had been a good man, and she would miss him.

Jack watched her as he waited for an answer to his call. She thought she saw a quicksilver flash of compassion in his eyes. His mouth formed a word, and he started to reach out to her. Then his call was answered, redirecting his attention back to the phone. Marie wondered what he wanted to say before the male voice on the other end distracted him.

“Reno, I’ve got a situation. I need you to pick me up at the rest stop on Interstate 66. I’ve got luggage.”

He listened for a second then flipped the phone shut, shoving it into his pocket before he edged into the corner of the elevator, pushing Marie behind him. “You okay?”

She nodded, realized he couldn’t see her, and choked out a whisper. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” He slipped another gun out of his jacket handing it to her butt end first. “Don’t use this until you have to. Trust me to take care of you, but if I go down, use it.”

Marie took the gun out of his hand, flipping off the safety as the elevator doors opened into a long, narrow corridor. The shrieking alarm masked all sound that might give warning of someone nearby. Jack inched his head out the door checking for hostiles.

It took Marie a second to realize they weren’t in the parking garage. Jack had stopped them one floor up on the maintenance and housekeeping level. He stepped out into the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure she was following.

Marie held the gun ready, keeping an eye on their backs as she followed closely behind Jack, mimicking his every move. Her head throbbed from the deafening alarm system as they made their way down the hall, checking doors for one that had been left unlocked. At last, halfway down the corridor, a large supply closet finally opened and they stepped inside.

Jack locked the door behind them. He immediately began searching the shelves and cabinets in a frenzy. “What are you looking for?” Marie asked. She glanced around, thinking he was searching for chemicals or something that could be used as a diversion. There wasn’t anything in the room but linens and surplus uniforms for the maintenance staff. Short of starting a fire, Marie couldn’t see any way to cause a diversion with what was available to them.

“Here.” He shoved a bundle of clothes at her. “Put these on and take your hair down.”

She frowned, thinking of all the pins holding the chignon in place. “It’s not that easy to get loose.”

“Then put a hat on,” he snapped, impatiently dumping the clothes in her arms and turning away from her.

Jack set his gun on a nearby shelf, beginning to strip down as she peeled off her ruined clothes. The navy blue uniform he’d handed her was approximately the right size, and the color designated her as one of the senior level housekeeping staff. Marie slipped the shapeless dress over her head in time to see him shrug out of his shoulder holster, placing it beside the gun on the shelf. Like a quick striptease, he loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and dropped his pants, stepping out of them without hesitation.

Marie’s mouth went dry and her pussy got wet. His legs were solid muscle—and his ass…well, it took a lot of control not to reach out and slide her hands over the tight muscles that were so invitingly near, covered in nothing more than thin blue cotton boxers.

Jack tossed the clothes they had been wearing into a hamper full of dirty linens. He placed a stack of uniforms over the gun and holster he’d taken off, but only enough to conceal them. They were still easily attainable. As he reached for the folded maintenance worker’s uniform he’d selected for himself, a loud pounding came on the door. “Open up in there!”

Marie jerked at the command, looking at Jack for his reaction.

“Put the hat on,” he whispered urgently, stepping into the pair of brown uniform pants.

“Just a minute,” he called to the door. Jack hurriedly shook the folds out of the khaki work shirt. Utterly confused by his actions, Marie watched as he tossed it on the shelf, making no effort to pull the trousers up over his bare legs. She silently wondered what the hell his problem was, because he sure couldn’t fight, or run, with his pants down around his ankles.

Whoever knocked on the door wasn’t waiting a minute. Marie heard the jangle of keys and her heart lurched. Just as the closet door slammed open, Jack shoved Marie back against the shelving. He pulled her leg up around his hips, kissing her with the passion of a man starved for sex.

Her traitorous body responded to the urgency of Jack’s kiss. Despite the awkward situation, a gush of warm liquid dampened her panties when Jack’s hard cock pushed through the opening of his boxers and thrust against her, grinding her between him and the shelves.

“What the fuck?” a voice said from somewhere behind Jack and a ripple of male laughter filled the room.

Jack jerked back guiltily, immediately holding his hands up when he saw the weapons pointed at them. He didn’t try to shove himself back into his boxers. “Don’t shoot us. We were just making out a little. We didn’t do anything wrong.” He made eye contact with the team leader. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

The security team lowered their weapons, still laughing. They looked a bit uncomfortable standing in the tight area with Jack still semi-erect and making no attempt to hide the situation.

The leader looked pointedly at Jack’s face to avoid his escaped erection. “Get some clothes on. I’ll give you one minute before I drag your ass out of here, naked if I have to. There’s a security breach. Can’t you hear the fucking alarms?”

Jack looked contrite. “I thought it was just a drill. We have ’em all the time. I don’t pay much attention anymore.”

The team leader ground his teeth in frustration. “It’s not a damn drill. Get dressed.”

Like the team, Marie tried to look everywhere but at Jack’s cock. She didn’t seem to have as much willpower as the men. Despite her best intentions, her gaze strayed to the front of his boxers, fastening on the thick male appendage that stood proudly semi-erect.
Impressive.
Maybe the reason he hadn’t put it back in his pants was because he had nothing to be ashamed of.

If he’d been trying to keep the situation awkward and off balance, Marie thought he’d accomplished that. At the command of the leader, they backed out of the tight storage room to give them some privacy.

While they waited, the guards stood on each side of the doorway with their weapons ready. Their collective attention was focused on the elevator and stairwells at each end of the hallway. Jack took advantage of their distraction to slip into the janitor’s uniform, hiding his weapons under the baggy clothes. He took Marie’s hand in his giving it a little squeeze.