His to Take (15 page)

Who the hell did he think he was? “Do you push every woman you meet this hard?”

“No. It’s something about you. We share a high-voltage, almost chemical attraction.
I’m not denying it.” He thumbed her nipple again. “Why are you?”

As a fresh flare of tingles filled her, Bailey jerked away. “I didn’t come here to
screw, so get that out of your head.”

Joaquin dropped his hand and stepped back. Immediately, she missed the warmth of his
touch. Her body ached. Her nipples tightened in distress at his loss.

His jaw firmed, and he didn’t look pleased. “I didn’t come here to screw, either.
I came here to save your life and figure out who wants Tatiana Aslanov enough to leave
a string of dead bodies. We’re still waiting on information from our investigation
so we can solve the case. Until then, I don’t have much else to focus on beyond how
much I want you.”

He’d been nothing but starkly honest. She’d been evading his questions and refusing
to be completely honest. “Joaquin, can you understand this last day has been a lot
for me to take in? I don’t know what’s going on half the time. I don’t know you. I
don’t know my surroundings. I barely understand what happens inside these walls.”

Some of the steel left his stance. He stepped close again and held an arm out to her,
motioning her to step into his embrace. Bailey needed his comfort and understanding
too badly to refuse. Callie had been a lovely balm to her, a kindred spirit, not to
mention a kind soul. But the other woman’s comfort didn’t soothe her the way Joaquin’s
did.

Bailey stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around him. With a little sigh,
she closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
To others, it might seem stupid to look to him for comfort, but Joaquin was so solid—a
protector. He’d risked so much to save her. While he’d been open with both himself
and his desires, she had freaked out and clammed up. The realization made her feel
more than a little ashamed.

He stroked a large hand down her hair. “I know this has been a lot for you. If there’d
been more time, I would have convinced you more gently that you were a target and
that you needed to come away with me for your safety. I regret that I scared you initially
and that I didn’t stop to think about how difficult this must be for you. I’m sure
being even remotely turned on by the guy who dragged you from your bed in the middle
of the night seems foolish. You may even be berating yourself.”

“Totally,” she confessed, holding him tighter. He understood. After she’d been less
than honest with him, he had still given her compassion. And she’d needed it in the
worst way.

He skimmed her cheek with his fingers, then cupped her chin, forcing her to look up.
“I know. But honesty really is important between us.”

Bailey chewed on her bottom lip. She’d come from a world of art, where the perception
was far more important than the reality. No one in the audience during a performance
saw the blistered feet, felt the shin splints, knew the punishment a dancer’s knees
or ankles took. They simply enjoyed the choreographed elegance. Even the childhood
she remembered had been something of a performance, apparently acted out by two agents
she hadn’t truly known. She was so grateful to him for being honest.

Bailey felt more ashamed than ever. “I liked what you did to me last night and I didn’t
understand. I’ve never experienced anything like that. I panicked. I felt stupid and
ashamed for wanting more. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad about what happened.”

He cradled her face in his hands. “Thank you. I needed the truth.”

Joaquin paused, then looked into her eyes. She couldn’t miss the desire there, but
his expression held more. A yearning to hold her. A need to protect. A possessiveness
he couldn’t quite hide. Against her will and her logic, excitement invaded her belly
and settled with an ache a bit lower.

Then he bent his head. Bailey felt her body go taut, her excitement turn to thrill.
Her lashes fluttered shut and she turned her face up, anticipating his kiss. Maybe
it wasn’t smart. Maybe someone would write a term paper in Freshman Psych about her
someday as a case study in Stockholm syndrome. Right now, all she knew was that Joaquin
felt like the most solid part of her life and she couldn’t wait for his mouth to cover
hers.

Instead, he brushed his lips over her forehead and pulled away. Bailey tried not to
be disappointed.

“I’ve got to call Hunter and some of the other guys working this investigation. A
few things before I go. Thorpe made it clear to me when I brought you here that he
would only allow us to stay if you consented to be here. We have until tomorrow at
noon to convince him that I’m not forcing you to be here against your will.”

Of course he wasn’t. Bailey had seen a picture of what awaited her back home. No thanks.
“I’ll talk to him.”

He nodded once. “That would set him at ease.”

She gave him a little grin. “And get him off your back?”

“That, too,” he admitted. “Thorpe has stressed that Dominion is a completely consensual
environment. I understand that and I respect it. I wouldn’t want any woman doing anything
sexual against her will. I refuse to even have the question between us. So until I’m
absolutely sure you’re willing, I won’t touch you again.”

His words made her go cold. Was he serious? “What do you mean?”

“How was I unclear?” He studied her, his broad shoulders towering, his whole mien
daunting.

She thrust her hands onto her hips. “Weren’t you the one vowing to get me into bed
five minutes ago?”

“Yes. And I meant it. Whatever this attraction is between us isn’t going away. I’m
not giving up until I feel you under me, your sweet pussy gripping my cock. But I’m
not going to give it to you—or anything else—until you ask me for it.”

L
ATER that evening, Joaquin paced Dominion’s hallways. The afternoon had been too quiet,
way too full of time to wish like hell that something would break in this case. But
nothing yet. Bailey’s house hadn’t turned up any unfamiliar prints. The sketch hadn’t
been released so far. Sean had offered to see if anyone could get a pinpoint on LOSS’s
location and recent activities. The investigative standstill skewered Joaquin’s nerves.

Then there was Bailey herself. He’d brought her lunch, his stomach twisting with nerves.
He’d fought criminals, tangled with a hurricane, and hunted terrorists for almost
a decade. Why should a woman who barely came up to his shoulders turn him inside out?

Because he’d put the ball in her court and swore he wouldn’t touch her until she asked
him to. That didn’t stop desire from clawing his insides. And if she never asked him?
Joaquin didn’t want to imagine never feeling her delicate body against him, their
hearts pounding together as he claimed her lips and—

Not a helpful train of thought. Moving on . . .

A solid rap on his door had him whirling toward the sound. “Yeah?”

The door opened, and Sean stuck his head inside. “Can you join us for a few minutes?
Bailey is with my bride. We could use your help.”

Joaquin had no idea what this was about, but anything to stop pacing the same twelve-by-twelve
area would be a blessing. “Sure.”

He followed Sean down the hall, past Thorpe’s empty office, then out of the secure
area and into the public dungeon space. Immediately, his blood boiled. Was the place
open? Probably, since he could hear voices. Goddamn it, Bailey had shown her face
and risked herself again. What for this time? Knowing that spanking her was off the
table really chafed.

But as he drew closer, light from the dungeon spilled into the hallway. Someone turned
on a catchy pop tune, then the scraping of metal against the floor filled his ears.
When he and Sean turned the corner and Joaquin entered the room, he stopped.

The only people inside were Callie, Bailey, and Axel. The pretty brunette climbed
on top of a ladder and Bailey handed a bright blue streamer up to her. In fact, the
whole room was filled with multicolored paper swagged from the corners of the ceiling,
tables laden with food, and lots of balloons. To one side, a multi-tiered cake with
plastic handcuffs sported a big number “40” in black icing.

“Italian cream?” Axel asked, pointing at the cake.

Callie nodded. “His favorite.”

“What the hell is this?” Joaquin barked.

Everyone in the room turned. Callie frowned.

“A birthday party.” Sean leaned in. “We needed one more tall person to finish hanging
streamers and we’re running out of time. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Who?” Annoyance jabbed Joaquin. He didn’t know anyone here and didn’t give a shit
about milestones right now unless it saved Bailey’s life. The distraction from his
purpose bothered him.

“Thorpe.” Callie stared at him, her expression daring him to say a word or refuse.

Since the man had given him a safe place to stash Bailey, he didn’t. Forcing himself
to relax, he nodded. “Sure. It’s his fortieth birthday?”

“Today.”

“On April Fool’s Day?” Were they kidding?

“Isn’t it funny?” Sean was obviously having a good laugh from the situation.

“He ordered me not to give him a surprise party, but who doesn’t play a practical
joke every April first?” Callie flashed him a mischievous smile.

Joaquin couldn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated a birthday with anyone, much
less his own. Years and years ago. Hell, he’d turned thirty roaming a south Texas
swamp, wearing night vision goggles and dodging bullets. He hadn’t remembered that
he’d turned another year older until two days later. If he hadn’t been on a mission,
who would he have spent his evening with? Joaquin mentally listed his friends. It
took about two seconds. None of them were the birthday party type. Even Nate, the
only person he’d been close to in years, might have offered him a beer at most. They
would have spent the evening talking shop.

As Joaquin studied the room, he felt almost . . . envious. Thorpe was surrounded by
people who loved him. That had never mattered much to Joaquin, but now he wondered
what he’d been missing.

“Here you go.” Sean clapped him on the back, then handed him a roll of white streamers
and some tape. “In the far corner. It looks like Callie and Axel have this side covered.”

Within three minutes, he and Sean had hung the last of the decorations from the ceiling.
Callie checked the cake again, arranging the plates and forks, then glanced through
the snacks and drinks on the nearby table. Axel brought out a bag of ice from the
kitchen, and Bailey helped him dump it into a freezer behind the bar.

The atmosphere was festive, full of anticipation. Joaquin frowned, feeling out of
place.

“I think that’s everything.” Callie looked around the room in satisfaction. “I wish
everyone would hurry up and get here.”

“Everyone?” he questioned.

Sean’s phone dinged with a text message.

“Is it him?” Callie asked.

“No,” he murmured, reading his phone. “The Edgingtons. They’ll be here in less than
five.”

“Hunter and Logan?” Joaquin asked.

“And their wives.”

“My sister is coming?” He looked around the room. Beyond the tables and the decorations,
the play equipment still stood—a spanking bench, that big cross thing, a padded table.
Whips, floggers, crops, and other shit he couldn’t identify hung all over the wall.
“She doesn’t belong here.”

Callie slanted him a wry glance. “Her membership says she does.”

“The Santiago brothers and their wife aren’t far behind them.”

“Good.” Callie pressed trembling hands to her stomach. “I’ll get all my questions
answered.”

Sean smiled up at her and bent to press a soft kiss to her lips. “That you will, lovely.”

“Does the room look all right?” she asked anxiously.

With a sardonic glance, Sean looked around. “I’m sure it’s far more than Thorpe expected.”

That made Callie grin, and for a moment they looked at each other as if no one else
existed. Joaquin could actually feel the love between them, enclosing them together
in something so excruciatingly personal it nearly gave him hives. He’d never encountered
anything like it.

Watching them filled him with discomfort, yet he couldn’t look away. Coming home to
someone who was the center of his world . . . What would that be like? His father
had died when Joaquin was young, and his mother had remarried an absolute prick. He’d
been relieved to hear that she’d divorced him.

Joaquin glanced across the room at Bailey, who stood in shadow behind the bar, watching
Sean and Callie with a naked longing on her face that stabbed him in the gut.
Fuck.
Even if she ever found the courage to ask him for so much as a peck again, a smart
man would turn her down.

So far, when it came to Bailey, he hadn’t proven himself to be terribly bright.

A moment later, chatter filled the foyer area around the corner. A woman with a high-pitched
Betty Boop voice said hello—the woman everyone called Sweet Pea. Greetings ensued,
and Joaquin winced when he heard his sister a moment later. He still wasn’t quite
sure what to say to her.
Hi, I hope you’re having a nice life
? The thought not only made him uncomfortable, but sent guilt rolling through his
stomach. She reminded him of all the shit he didn’t want to remember.

Joaquin crossed the room to Bailey. “Let’s go.”

She looked up at him with big blue eyes, silently pleading. “I don’t want to go back
to that room. I’m bored and I’m not used to being cooped up.” She raised her chin.
“I want to meet your sister.”

Hideous idea. He could only guess what Kata would tell her. “No one can know you were
here.”

“There will be fewer than twenty people at this party. You know most everyone attending,”
Callie reasoned. “Bailey helped me a lot today. I’d love to have her here.” She looked
a little uncertain. “I don’t have many friends coming. The Edgington wives don’t seem
to like me.”

“They don’t know you well. Give them time,” Sean scolded her, then turned to Joaquin.
“I promise, no one coming would dare to breathe a word of Bailey’s presence. As you
can imagine, we’re a pretty tight-lipped community.”

Joaquin looked around the room again, at all the trappings of BDSM. So Sean probably
told the truth. That didn’t mean Joaquin liked any of it—risking Bailey, seeing family.

He gritted his teeth, but before he could grab Bailey and drag her from the room,
Kata came barreling around the corner, carrying a gift bag and wearing a black dress
that hugged her swollen belly. She was beginning to waddle.

“You didn’t say good-bye.” Kata came at him, hands on her hips. “Again.”

“It was kind of a life-or-death situation,” he protested.

She scowled. Obviously, she didn’t like it, but she understood. “Did you find the
woman you needed to protect?”

He turned to look for Bailey, who stepped forward, the light above making the golden
tone of her blond-brown hair glitter. “I’m Bailey Benson. You’re Joaquin’s sister?”

“When he remembers that he has family, yes.” She sent him a snappy stare, then directed
something kinder Bailey’s way, hand outstretched. “I’m Kata. Nice to meet you.”

Bailey shook her hand, looking so petite next to his sister, who was both taller and
very pregnant. “Nice to meet you, too. You have the same eyes.”

“So our mother always says. Did you know she’s remarried, by the way?” Kata asked
him.

No, he hadn’t had a clue. His mother sent cards to a P.O. box he almost never opened.
Sometimes, she left voicemails on his cell phone, but work had given him a different
phone and number. Since he didn’t have a personal life, he rarely ever looked at his
personal phone.

His ignorance must have shown, since his sister kept talking. “Yeah, she married Hunter
and Logan’s dad, Caleb, this past September.”

Whoa.
“Seriously? She married your husband’s father?”

“Yep, and they’re very happy. If you tuned in every once in a while, you would have
known.” She gave him an acid smile, then turned to Bailey. “Do you need anything?
Are you all right?” His sister sent him a knowing glare. “Is my big brother treating
you well?”

A flush zoomed up Bailey’s fair complexion and her stare trailed away. “I-I’m fine.”

“Oh, hell,” Kata muttered with an incredulous stare. “He tried to get you into bed,
didn’t he?”

Joaquin wasn’t sure whether to bark at his sister that it was none of her business
or ask her how the fuck she knew. Hunter saved him the trouble.

His brother-in-law set his big hands on Kata’s shoulders and spoke calmly. “Ease up,
honey. It’s a birthday party. Thorpe will be here any minute. Let’s play nice. You
can snap at Joaquin later.”

Like hell.
“Thanks, buddy.”

Hunter sent him a jaunty smile. “Don’t mention it. I have great respect for her hormones.
You should, too.”

Kata elbowed her husband, then sighed. “Fine. I’m going to put Thorpe’s present down
and get some punch. Where’s Tara . . .”

Joaquin’s sister glanced around the room until she found a little redhead next to
Logan. They were speaking to Callie. Even from a distance, he could see that the conversation
was stilted, and Logan was doing his best to smooth things over.

“Is something wrong between them?” Bailey asked.

“Tara has always thought that Callie wanted her man,” Kata said, “but I told her Callie
has always been stuck on Thorpe. I was right. I’ll see what I can do over there. Why
don’t you come with me so I can warn you away from my brother?”

Before his sister took more than a couple of steps, Callie broke out in a smile. Tara
returned the expression, and the two hugged. Sean hovered behind his bride, looking
pleased. The two men shook hands. Logan said something, and everyone laughed. Kata
and Bailey joined in, Hunter just behind them.

Joaquin’s sister introduced Bailey to the group. Tara smiled warmly and conversation
ensued. Logan dropped a hand on the petite ballerina’s shoulder and asked her a question
or two. She nodded and murmured a short answer, looking a bit shy. And so goddamn
beautiful she made Joaquin’s cock stand hard. But it was more because he also didn’t
like the Edgington brothers hovering around her. Joaquin’s head told him they were
married. The rest of him didn’t care because he didn’t want anyone else’s hands on
her.

Jack Cole and his redheaded wife breezed in a moment later, the man guiding her with
a hand at her back. He turned and dropped his head to whisper something in her ear.
She lifted a hand and let it glide across her belly. Her gauzy, flowy blouse almost
hid a baby bump. After setting another wrapped gift on the little table, Jack’s hand
joined hers over the emerging mound.

Joaquin grimaced. What the hell was the appeal of chaining yourself to a desk to come
home to the same woman every night, who’d eventually nag about what you didn’t do
to help around the house while raising snotty rug rats who would someday become defiant
teenagers? He’d always wondered that. But now?

He glanced at Bailey. Something vicious kicked him in the chest . . . then gripped
him lower. What the hell?

“Hey, man.” He watched Logan approach Jack with a slap on the shoulder. “Morgan, how
are you feeling?”

Jack shook Logan’s hand as Morgan smiled. “Really good. This pregnancy is much easier
than the last.”

“She’s getting the hang of hormone overload,” Jack quipped.

Morgan batted his shoulder, then turned her attention to Logan. “How are those precious
little baby girls of yours?”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “Sleepless. Tara needs to stop worrying and relax.
Mandy and Macy are spending the night with Grandpa Caleb and Carlotta, so . . .”