Exposed (18 page)

The ball was in his court.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I have that car registration for you.”

“Go on,” Geist said.

“It’s registered to a Frank Castello.”

“Address?”

The man on the other end of the line rattled off the address of the townhome he’d just left.

Geist cursed inwardly.

A silent pause came from the other man, then he cleared his throat nervously. “There’s something else.”

Geist waited. Silence often drew out more information than threats ever could.

“Castello is a Deputy U.S. Marshal.”

Shit
.

He tightened his hold on the steering wheel. Pushing all the sudden tension into his knuckles then relaxing. The old man hadn’t told him a marshal was involved in this mess. Killing a nobody like Sydney Peele wouldn’t be noticed by anyone. Killing a U.S. Marshal was going to bring all kinds of unwanted heat down on him and the old man.

“Peele’s cellphone?”

“It’s offline. They must’ve turned off the GPS.”

“Turn it back on.”

“I tried, but couldn’t access it. My best guess is it’s been disabled.”

Fuck.
It was bad enough he was going to have to inform the old man about the marshal’s involvement in this, but confessing he’d lost his prey? It felt unprofessional.

“Is there anything else you need from me, sir?” his source asked, fear still in his voice.

“Yes. Keep on the phone, if it comes online again I want to know where, immediately. And dig into this Castello. I want to know everything about him.”

He disconnected without waiting for the man’s response. Several years back, he’d nearly killed the little hacker, then realized he could use him as a resource. The man knew his life depended on just how useful he was. The moment he stopped, his life was forfeit once more.

Stepping out of his car, he hit the electronic door lock and headed into the small neighborhood bar. No one should know him inside. Thanks to the cop’s car he’d been in earlier, the tinted windows had helped disguise his face from anyone who might’ve witnessed him hitting the marshal and the woman.

“What can I get you?” the leggy brunette asked from the other side of the bar.

“Whisky, neat.”

“A man who knows what he likes,” she said, producing the bottle and a glass in front of him. She poured in two fingers’ worth and waited for his nod, which he gave. “Anything else?”

The look on her face said she was offering more than food.

He sized her up from head-to-toe. Tight jeans over a firm ass. Too-tight sweater showing off a pair of tits he was pretty sure weren’t natural. She’d do. For the night. But first, he needed something else. “I’ll take a burger. Well done. All the trimmings.”

He had a phone call to make tonight, but when dealing with the old man, it was best to be in control.

Once he’d settled his hunger, he’d take out some frustration with the sexy bartender.

* * * * *

Frank stood outside the guest bedroom.

Sydney’s striptease in his kitchen had both thrilled and shocked him. Never had he had a woman take off her clothes and throw them at him in anger. All that righteous indignation and fueled ire focused on him.

She’d been…magnificent.

He’d been frozen in place as she revealed herself to him. His own Venus, stalking away as if the world should drop down at her feet.

Only the slamming of the bedroom door above him snapped the spell she’d created.

She was right. She wasn’t a client, a case, or a job. She was a flesh-and-blood woman, and she’d just confessed that she wanted him. Wanted him the way a woman wants a man.

She’d called him a coward.

Was he? Was he so in need of control that he couldn’t claim what she was offering?

If he was smart, he’d turn and head to his own bedroom. He’d leave her alone and keep things as they were. Her in need of protection. Him the law officer in charge of seeing to her safety.

He closed his eyes. The vision of her, naked, flushed with both anger and desire, challenging him.

Inhaling, he reached for the door knob. It twisted easily, opening the door and he stepped inside the darkened room. The only light coming from the attached bathroom where she stood. Brushing her teeth. Naked.

She finished. Wiped her mouth and shifted his direction, the light silhouetting her from behind.

A goddess
.

“You’re not a job, Sydney.”

She waited, comfortable and confident.

He swallowed the fear inside him. What he said next was important. To him. To her. To whatever this was between them. “You’re not a case. You’re not charity. I don’t pity you.”

“What is it you want, Frank?” she asked, reaching up to release all that wild hair from the ponytail, letting it fall down over her shoulders. The ends covering the tips of her nipples.

Lady Godiva.

“You.”

“You want me?” She padded softly across the wood floor, stopping inches from him.

“Yes,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t think you do,” she whispered back, her voice all husky and seductive.

“Oh, believe me I do.” He reached for her, but she took a step back, evading his hands.

Turning, she sauntered to the bed and crawled to the middle to stretch out on her side. “Bad enough to want to put aside all your precious self-control and just take me?”

It was like offering a drug to an addict.

Moving away from the door, he toed off his shoes and pulled off his socks. At the bedside, he unstrapped his holster, setting it and his weapon on the table.

“Still protecting me?”

“Best to be prepared,” he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the foil-wrapped packet he’d gotten from his room before coming to hers. He laid it on the bedside table, too.

Finally, he shucked off his clothes and climbed onto the bed, barely giving her time to turn onto her back, before he covered her body with his. When she reached to grip his hips, he stalled her, catching her hands in his and slowly raising them over her head.

“I don’t think so,” he said, before capturing her mouth with his. Sliding his tongue in deep, he tasted the sultry heat of her, a hint of the mint she’d eaten earlier teasing his senses. Her breasts pressed so tight to his chest, the hard nipples still tantalized him with every breath she took.

Holding both her tiny wrists in his left hand, he slid the right one down the length of her arm, never breaking the contact of their mouths. He trailed his fingers over her cool flesh, goose bumps appearing along the path over the side of her breast, down her ribs and across the flare of her hip.

With a little moan, she parted her thighs and he settled into the cradle of her heat, his hand moving down the outer side of her thigh until it reached her knee. Slipping his hand around, he teased the little erogenous zone in the back.

As he eased his mouth from hers, letting their lips cling for a moment, he stared down into those deep purple eyes, his hand trailing back up her thigh, this time on the inside. A shudder ran through her and he fought the urge to growl in triumph.

“Nothing. Wrong. With. Control.” He emphasized each word with a nip to her lower lip. Stretching her arms until their hands reached the Craftsman-style headboard, he pressed her fingers into the space between the slats. “I want you to hold on. Don’t let go. No matter what.”

Her eyes widened and she slipped her tongue out to moisten her already swollen lips. He took her mouth again, this time in a slow, sensuous sampling, until he elicited another sexy moan from her. Then he began his exploration anew.

Slowly, he slid his lips down her jawline towards an ear, kissing it softly, then biting on the lobe, pulling it just enough to make her gasp, but careful enough not to really hurt her. Down her neck he went, until he met the juncture of her shoulders. He stopped to enjoy the feel of her pulse against his lips. A slow gentle suck that built until her body responded by arching against his.

He chuckled. “Not yet, sweet Sydney. I have way too much planned for you tonight. No easy orgasm for you.”

Sliding his body lower, her breasts pushed down then up, free of the constraints of his chest.

“Just what I was looking for,” he said with a smile, then trapped one hard nipple in his mouth. He sucked gently, at the same time running his hands back up her arms, checking that she was still holding on to the wooden slats.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he switched to the other breast, laving it with his tongue before sucking it in.

She wiggled her hips, adding heat to his already hard cock.

“Soon, Syd, soon,” he murmured as he inched his way lower, letting his fingers replace his lips on her nipples. He tweaked and rolled them between his fingers as he laid a trail of kisses down the center of her abdomen.

“I hate that name,” she said in a husky voice as he lowered his mouth to the edge of her pussy.

Dipping his tongue into her wet slit, he teased the hard nub of her clit back and forth. She whimpered, and he felt her body tighten, then relax, as if she were fighting for her own sense of control.

The soft mewling sound she was making threatened to undo him. She’d teased him about being too disciplined, and right now he was fighting to maintain even a sliver of restraint—the need to drive deep inside her threatening to take over.

Sitting up on his knees, he reached for the condom. Not trusting his shaking fingers, he ripped the foil with his teeth. Sheathing himself, he used his knees to push her thighs open wider, exposing her to his gaze in the dim light from the bathroom.

“You’re beautiful.” Too beautiful to be with him.

As if she could read his mind, she slid one delicate foot up his thigh to his ass. “I need you, Frank. Now.”

At her command, he lost all thought, simply acted on instinct, hauling her up by her hips, until his cock was at her entrance.

“You’re sure?” he asked, wanting her to know she still had a choice. He’d die from the need to join his body with hers, but if she said no, he’d stop.

Still gripping the bedframe, she lifted her head to stare at him, trying to push herself onto him. “Never been surer about anything.”

“I could stop,” he teased.

“Frank!”

With a low chuckle, he slid in to the hilt. “Oh, fuck,” he said, at the tight heat that enveloped his cock.

“Uh, yes,” she moaned, letting her head fall back, and clenching him tight.

Once he had his control back, he eased out to the head then slid in deep again, watching her face as he moved. Eyes wide, she stared at him, her arms stretched tight above her head, her mouth wide open. Her breasts rocked with each breath she took. He repeated the process—slow and deep.

“Damn it, Castello. Faster.” Her legs tightened around his hips, her heels digging into his ass, encouraging him to continue.

Obeying her command, he quickened the pace, striving to bring her to completion. He’d be damned if he’d leave her hanging just to find his own orgasm. Balancing her hips with one hand, he slid his other up to stroke her clit, keeping the rhythm going.

“Oh, oh. Oh,” she moaned, her body going taut as ripples of spasms rolled over her. The sensation so hot and tight around him, he finally gave up control, slammed into her body a few more times and growled as he came.

* * * * *

“So you missed again?” the old man’s cold voice asked over the phone.

“She’s traveling with a man.” Toying with the belt in his hand, he stared at the woman spread eagle on the bed, her back rising and falling as she slept. The crisscross pattern on her back was just starting to become more raised and visible. He’d done excellent work tonight. “You’re sure the email came from the woman’s address?”

“Certain. The Congressman assured me the information was legitimate.”

“Just wanted to be sure the information hadn’t gotten mixed up with another case. Perhaps one with involving witness protection?”

A silence on the other end made him smile. For once, he was making the old man nervous.

“What makes you think it might?”

“Because she’s traveling with a Deputy U.S. Marshal.”

Again silence.

He flicked the buckle on his belt. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“What’s his name?” the old man finally asked.

He lifted the paper he’d written the name on. “Frank Castello.”

“Sit tight. Do nothing more until you hear from me.”

The line went dead in his ear.

The old man had called on him for this assignment because it had required finesse, not guns going in blazing. But even he needed all the facts. Not to worry. Patience was one of his strongest suits.

Slowly, he strolled over to the bed, trailing the leather belt up the naked woman’s body. Soft whimpers filled the room, the gag in her mouth muting it to anyone outside the hotel room door. Sitting on the side of the bed, he moved some of her dark hair off her face. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered, lowering his lips to her bruised cheek. “Don’t cry. Turns out I don’t have to leave after all.”

She clenched her eyes tight, squeezing the tears out to run down her cheeks to mingle with the blood around her nose and mouth.

“That’s right. We’ve got all night to play.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The bed shifted, waking Sydney.

In the soft light of dawn, she shifted and watched Frank wiggle into his boxer shorts then haul his T-shirt over his head. Unlike so many men she’d photographed over the years whose bodies had been defined and honed by working out for hours in a gym, Frank’s body reminded her of an old-time warrior. He definitely had well defined muscles, and she imagined he did keep fit for his job by working out, but she suspected part of his work-out routine was manual labor on this house.

More telling were the scars. Two round, puckered scars near his lower left side, and some wicked long scars up the other side. He’d literally put his body in harm’s way to protect people.

Last time he’d gotten up, he’d left the room naked, except for his knee brace and thigh bandage. The moonlit view of his backside had been quite…enjoyable. A few minutes later, he’d returned with another condom and made love to her again, slower and with great detail.