French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) (20 page)

BOOK: French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2)
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Biting her lip, she took the scintillating torment knowing the reward when it came would be even sweeter. A half dozen, a dozen, two dozen more, she wasn’t sure how many, but finally when her body was a perpetual, writhing, quivering mass, she heard a thunk on the thickly carpeted floor.

The next moment, Arturo stood between her spread legs, his fingers slipping beneath the rope, tightening it against her the entire length of her slit, from clit to ass, but it didn’t last long as he pulled it aside. Then he was inside her, plunging between her hot, swollen lips, entering deep and fast into her juice sopped pussy.

She screamed immediately as she came, clamping down on his hard length as he began to ride her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried.”

“You waited,
ma petite
, but I want more. Now hush, enjoy the ride while I make you come for me again.”

She nodded, smiling up at him while she arched her back like a contented kitten.

“Not so fast,” he warned, as he continued to drive inside. “You better have another in there for me.”

Bringing his thumb to her clit, he circled and rubbed over the hard little nub sending her quickly to the brink once again. He leaned over her swollen breasts, taking one hard tip between his teeth and as he pumped into her fast and with more power, he sucked hard.

“Oh my god,” she screamed as her pussy quivered then convulsed all around him. He slammed into her gripping heat once, then again, and on the third downward stroke, he too shouted his release as he succumbed to the exquisite pleasure his
parfaite soumise
always gave him.

 

* * *

 

Late Sunday evening after dinner, they walked once more along the beach.

“I could stay here forever,” Mari said as she turned her face into the wind.

It was getting dark and a storm was expected, the slight coolness in the breeze telling him it was raining somewhere already. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of gold, red, and orange suffusing the sky through the breaks in the clouds that were quickly rolling toward shore. It was past time for them to be heading back in and readying for their return to Houston.

Suddenly tired, he couldn’t keep the heaviness of what lay ahead for them from entering his voice. “Re-entry into reality is the worst part of a holiday.”

He stopped near the edge of the waves and swung her into the circle of his arms, her back to his front as they both looked out over the gulf. It was some time before either spoke again, long enough for the incoming tide to begin tickling their bare toes and washing over their ankles.

“Must we go back tonight? I’d like to listen to the rain while lying in bed in your arms.”

“Nothing sounds better, but I have an early morning meeting I can’t miss.”

She sighed deeply. “I should probably go in early too, and give Adri a break. She’s opened every morning since she’s been back.”

He didn’t comment, staring pensively at the rapidly darkening sky. The thought of her spending any time with that woman rubbed against the grain of his deep-seated protectiveness, but it was too early to tip their hand.

Mari twisted to peer up at him over her shoulder. “Are you okay, honey?”

His arms flexed, giving her a little squeeze. “Yes. It’s likely the letdown after two perfect days.”

“They were that.” She twisted in his arms, clasping her hands behind him as she leaned back enough to gaze up at him with equally intense blue eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Arturo. I know it’s soon, so I don’t expect you to say it back, but I wanted you to know.”

An array of emotions slammed into him at her words: wonder, guilt, pain, regret, and there was love too, he’d been falling for some time now. Damn the circumstances that put their future at risk.


Je t’aime
, Mari,” he intoned against her ear, adding in a deep, husky rasp, “I will forever love you if you’ll let me.”

Confusion flickered briefly over her lovely face, plainly she didn’t understand the last part. How could she? It disappeared the next instant when she focused only on what she wanted to hear. Burying her face into his neck, she breathed a kiss there. “I never thought after losing so much, I’d ever be happy again. Thank you for giving me this unexpected gift.”

His arms tightened like steel bands, holding her as though he never wanted to let her go. And he didn’t. Yet, come morning, after viewing what was on the drive, he knew it might all come crashing down around him. But weakling that he was, he didn’t come clean, nor had he been strong enough to keep her at a distance, taking the selfish, coward’s road by spending this time with her, stoking their shared passion, and nurturing the affection that was building between them.

In his head, he was convinced she would have been suspicious if the lover she knew suddenly acted like her brother, which in hindsight may have been the kinder way. But would it have been worth the sacrifice of this weekend and the love that had grown between them? Hell no! With the shit storm that was headed their way, he felt strongly at the time he’d made the right play, and still did. Once the truth was revealed, they would need this bond between them, no matter how new and fragile, to see them through.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

“Meet me at my suite for lunch,
petite
. I have something to talk to you about.”

She held up a finger to the customer at the counter and stepped away, saying quietly into her phone, “This sounds serious.”

There was a brief pause on his end. “Can you be here at noon?”

“Yeah, sure, but Arturo—”

“I’ll see you at twelve.”

She frowned when he disconnected, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“Mari, what’s wrong? You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”

Looking up, she met Katy’s look of concern. “What does it mean when a man asks you to lunch to talk about ‘something’.”

The avidly listening customer made a noise, which didn’t sound the least bit promising, as Katy grimaced.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Damn! He was going to break up with her. Leaving the woman to be helped by Katy, Mari turned and walked to her office, going in and collapsing behind her desk.

What did you expect? A commitment from a man in town for business? Hell, he’d left her Friday night to come back to town, though she thought the rest of the weekend was good, great in fact. Maybe his business had concluded and he was done with it and with her.

He’d made no promises, had he? I love you wasn’t a promise of any sort. Although he’d talked in broad terms of some kind of future together, maybe she’d misunderstood and it was the global we and us. Or, maybe it was a language barrier. She only understood a third of the things he said. She’d meant to create a glossary, or take a refresher French class, but now the point was moot. The knot in her stomach settled like lead and she started to feel sick. Dropping her head onto her folded arms on the desk, she took in a deep breath trying to settle herself and her queasiness.

A soft tap on her door made her moan.

“Mari,” Katy said, poking her head in. “I’m so sorry, honey. What can I do?”

“Lay in a supply of chocolate and alcohol, please. A case of tequila and a bushel of limes will be a good start. I think I’m going to need it.”

“I’ll get Moose Tracks, a pallet full, and put it in the freezer in the break room. That always fixes me up.” She stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Want me to string him up by his heels and make him suffer?”

Mari choked. “No, thanks.”

She didn’t add that it was she that needed the beating, mainly for being so stupid, and because it was the one thing that might overshadow the pain in her heart.

 

* * *

 

At 11:55 AM she stood outside Four Seasons suite #1202. She’d been there for at least ten minutes, maybe more, but for the life of her, she couldn’t find the strength or the nerve to knock. As time ticked by, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it, she heard a phone ring. She couldn’t make out a word through the door, but she savored the low drone of his beautiful voice. She’d miss it.

Abruptly, the door jerked open and his handsome face appeared. He frowned. “Mari. How long have you been standing out here?”

“For a bit.”

“Why didn’t you knock?”

She shook her head.

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her steadily forward. “Are you hungry?” he asked as he closed the door. “I can order in.”

“No, thank you,” she replied, feeling quite the opposite, her stomach in knots.

She walked to the center of the room, not looking at the windows where he had stripped her naked and went down on her for the first time, or the open door to the bedroom where he had made her scream over and over, coming harder and more often than she ever had. That left either looking at him, which hurt, or at the floor. She stared down at her nails instead, thinking vaguely that she was a week past a manicure, as if that mattered in the least. Suddenly she felt like she couldn’t breathe and that the walls were closing in on her. She spun to face him, wanting to get on with her dismissal.

“Can you just get to the reason I’m here? The cryptic ‘I need to talk to you about something’ only left me with terrible ideas about what this was about.”

He approached, sitting on the couch. When she didn’t follow as he plainly expected her to, he grasped her hand and with steady but firm pressure, pulled her down beside him.

“There is no easy way to say this,” he began.

She blurted out, “You’re ending it.”

At the same time he told her, “I’m a British agent.”

“What?” they asked simultaneously, staring at one another in shock.

“Wait,” he said. “After this weekend and all that came before, why would you think I was ending it?”

“You aren’t?” she questioned, blinking back tears of relief.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, Arturo, I thought…” She threw herself at him, winding her arms around his neck and burying her face in the side. His arms coming around her strong and tight, healed the little shreds in her heart that her fears had created. “You’ve been quiet. And Friday when you left, I thought your business had concluded and you were going home.”

“This does have to do with business, Mari.”

She leaned back. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” His hand slid up to lay warm and comforting along her cheek. She leaned into it, seeking the reassurance of his touch as dread once again crept into her chest. “This will be hard to hear, but I want you to try to listen to what I have to say before you react.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I know that too. It’s about Derek.”

Her breath caught in her throat. That was the last thing she expected him to say. “What about him?”

“Some things have come to light about his activities prior to his death.”

“What kind of activities?”

“We suspect he was selling secrets to foreign groups.”

She pulled away and sat back, blinking in bewilderment. “How can that be? He was a computer engineer who worked as a systems analyst here in Houston.”

“He worked at BSE Systems, Mari. British Security and Engineering.”

“I realize that, but what does that have to do with whatever it is you’re accusing him of?”

“I’m sorry, but these are not merely accusations. We have evidence that sensitive technology secrets were sold to a group of extremists. Much of it led us to the Houston facility, but we had no concrete evidence prior to Derek’s death. Unfortunately, we believe he was becoming a liability to his associates or was planning to come clean. We suspect they took him out before that could happen.”

“That’s impossible. Derek was hit by a drunk driver. The police said—”

“You were told what they wanted you to believe.”

“But he was a computer engineer, a tech nerd. Nothing more.”

“We also have proof that his brake lines were cut and that the group he was associated with were the ones who did it.”

“No,” she whispered as her arms curled around her middle. “I can’t believe it.”

“It’s true. This group is notorious for bragging about their misdeeds.”

Dazed, her mind reeling from his outlandish claims, she stood, unsure where she was going and why, but she had to move. She staggered toward the windows, her hand coming up to lie flat against the glass, leaning into it for support.

“Mari, think about it. If he was just a computer nerd, how do you explain the millions he had in the bank when he died? He made a good salary, but not close to that kind of money, even if he was a frugal saver for decades. But you know he wasn’t, was he? Especially near the end.”

“He said his investments had paid off. I had no reason to question him.” She turned. “Why would he do this, if it’s true?”

“I was hoping you could fill in that piece of the puzzle.”

“I don’t know. It makes no sense. He was a good employee, a law-abiding citizen, a good husband and doting father. He loved us, wanted the world for us, and would have given it to us on a silver platter if he’d been able.”

“And he tried, Mari, but couldn’t, not through regular channels. His motives may have been pure, to take care of you and your children, but the temptation was too great to get what he wanted in other ways. Selling secrets was an easy way for him to make that happen.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“You had huge debt, until about two years before his death. Then out of nowhere, they were all paid in full. You moved into a bigger house, drove better cars, he began showering you with more extravagant gifts.”

“No,” she whispered when it started to make sense.

“He had opportunity.” Arturo’s voice was closer as he continued. In her distressed state, she hadn’t even heard him move. “Working for a multinational company, with defense contracts and new R&D for weapons, he had top level clearance, which gave him easy access to many of their secret projects. His department’s focus made him ripe for the picking, the perfect mole for what they wanted.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“His department specialized in cyber intelligence and electronic warfare.”

“He never—” When her voice broke, she stopped and swallowed, clearing her throat of the tears that were threatening to choke her. “He didn’t talk about his work—ever. He said he couldn’t.”

“I imagine that’s one of the few truths he told you,
chérie
.”

His words were very close to what she’d been thinking. Her stomach reeling, Mari bent forward, taking deep breaths to quell the rising nausea as all of the unbelievable pieces fell into place.

“Let me get you some water.”

“No!” As tears tracked down her face, she looked up, surprised to find him mere inches away. Although she wanted to run and hide from him, to block out and forget the unbelievable tale he was spinning about Derek, she pressed for answers. “Why now? He’s been dead for three years. Was it really necessary to shatter all of my memories of a dead man after it’s over?”

“That’s just it, it’s not over.”

Through watery eyes, she watched a shadow of pain cross his face and when he lifted his hand as if to touch her, she flinched away, knowing if he did, she’d fall apart. Blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay and her emotions from completely overflowing, she brusquely demanded, “What do you mean it’s not over? Is he spying from the fucking grave?”

“No point in getting nasty, come sit and I’ll explain further.”

“I’d rather stand.”

He frowned at her cool tone, but having dealt her a major blow he evidently decided to look past it. “Derek was smart, Mari, and he covered his tracks well. No one suspected he was behind any of this until after his death. That’s when mistakes started happening.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, a sudden pain behind her eyes bringing her hands to her head. She swayed slightly as she rubbed her temples. “Nothing about this makes sense.” Abruptly, she swung to face him. “How do you know all this?”

“I’m MI6, Mari. The secrets that were sold were British weapons technology, agents were killed, other lives are at risk. I was sent to investigate. Your government is working with us because this happened on US soil.”

“MI6? Like James Bond? Oh my god.” She gripped her stomach, and leaned her forehead against the glass. “You’ve been playing me from the beginning.”

“No, that’s not true.” He reached for her.

As quickly, she stepped back, cringing away from him, but she came up against the windows. Having nowhere else to retreat, she folded her arms like a shield in front of her hoping he would get the message. She didn’t want his comfort nor did she welcome his touch. “You expect me to believe you just happened upon the club I was a member at for a year, three hours away from where I live, the center of your investigation, and by sheer coincidence you formed a connection with me, your prime suspect’s widow?”

“You went by Mari and used your maiden name. I didn’t know who you were until weeks in, I swear.”

She cast him a cold glare. “Why don’t I believe you? How can I believe anything you’ve told me?”

“Because it’s true. When we were starting out, Mari, how did I lie? We shared very little, our names, our desires. We played,
minou,
and became attached, as simple as that.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You said you didn’t lie when we were starting out, but you have since then. You told me,” her voice broke before she finished. “You said you loved me.”

“That was the truth.” When her eyes shot to his, he corrected himself. “It is the truth.” He moved toward her, stopping when she flinched and pressed herself flat against the window. “I wanted to reveal who I was, but couldn’t with you as a suspect.”

“Me! What have I done?”

“You came into a great deal of wealth, which put you immediately on the radar.”

“So I’m guilty through inheritance, that’s a stretch, surely.” Her mind was in a whirl as it tried to assimilate all he had said and accused Derek of doing, and now he was pointing the finger at her. Her stomach churned, ready to rebel. She had to get some air, have some time to think, and get away from Arturo, who had used her.

“I need to go.”

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