His to Take (29 page)

“What else do you remember?”

She bit her lip. “We went to a lake, maybe.” Bailey shook her head, wishing the details
weren’t so fuzzy. “We parked and got out. I remember being excited to be alone with
my dad. That almost never happened. But then when he opened the back of the car, he
didn’t have any fishing equipment, just a shovel.” The memory became sharper, and
she sank into it, recalling more. “I was confused by that. When I asked, Viktor said
he wanted to play a game instead.” The last of the recollection buzzed through her
brain, almost knocking the breath from her lungs. “He wanted to hide something and
show me how to find it. Oh my goodness . . .”

“That’s it, baby girl.” Joaquin cupped her shoulders, seemingly to steady her, provide
support. “Tell me everything you remember.”

“We’d been camping for a few days already. It seems like we were moving somewhere
new every day. We’d drive for hours. My dad would say he was going for a walk by himself,
then he’d come back and . . . It seemed like nothing happened until the day he said
he wanted to fish. That morning, we didn’t pack up and drive somewhere else. Instead,
Viktor woke me up early, and we drove away together. We didn’t travel long before
he parked, then we walked. He helped me climb a fence that had been painted green,
I think. People had carved their initials into it and someone had painted over it
again. Viktor stopped there and started singing to me. He wanted me to sing with him.
I remember jumping left three times from the fence post over and over until I fell
down giggling.”

“Then what?”

“We trekked a dirt path. He pointed out a sign to me about no lifeguard being on duty,
then he dug a hole in the dirt and . . .”

“And?” Joaquin quizzed.

“I don’t know. The memory just stops there. Viktor presumably buried something, but
I don’t know what or where that scene might have taken place. I don’t even know if
that’s really a memory of him hiding the research.”

He cupped her face. “One thing I suspect? He taught you the rhyme because he already
had a plan and had decided to spare you. So he showed you exactly how to find his
legacy when you were grown. That way, you could preserve it.”

“Why not my older brother or sister? He can’t have been sure I would remember any
of this.”

“We’ll never know,” Joaquin said sadly. “It’s possible he couldn’t bring himself to
shoot someone so young. Or maybe he thought LOSS would never believe you’d know anything
about his work and would leave you alone. I’ve looked at a few of the records. Your
brother struggled in school.”

“Russian was his first language. I don’t think he spoke much English before he went
to school. When I was little, my birth parents spoke mostly English. I remember my
mother saying it would be better for us kids. But she hated the language.” In fact,
Bailey remembered her mother tsking in the kitchen at what a silly language it was.

“And your sister’s aptitude was largely in dance, according to what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah. Even at seven, her dance instructors oohed and aahed about her abilities. I
went to the same dance school. They weren’t nearly as excited about me.”

“Looks like they were off base about that,” Joaquin pointed out. “But your school
records indicate you were the one who did best in English-language organized academic
settings. Maybe that’s why. Maybe he thought that someday, when you remembered his
nursery rhyme and put everything together, you’d decipher his research or continue
it.”

Bailey shrugged. “And maybe we’re crediting a very desperate man with a lot more rational
thought than he actually had.”

“Like I said earlier, we’ll never know.”

She shook her head. That made her sad all over again. “So now what? We know the rhyme
wasn’t referring to any location near the house.”

“And that’s why the FBI never found anything on the premises. They believe LOSS looked,
too, because the crime scene was contaminated and the house trashed when the sheriff
arrived. Sean said the FBI speculates that, after taking your father from the house,
LOSS searched it from top to bottom. They believe that the sheriff arriving sooner
than expected stopped the hunt, but after the murder scene had been cleared, they
came back. Your aunt in Russia hired someone to clean it up and try to restore it
as much as possible. The company reported that it had been ‘vandalized.’ But the walls
lacked any sort of graffiti, as you’d expect if the culprits had been bored teenagers.
They also didn’t find any drug paraphernalia, like you might find with addicts.”

“It’s probably safe to say that LOSS didn’t find anything there.”

“Right.” He sighed. “Do you remember anything you saw on this vacation with your family?
Any landmarks?”

“So far, no. I’ll keep trying. What will we do if we actually find the research? How
does having it stop them from coming after me?”

“I think we have to take a page from Sean’s book and be very visible and vocal about
the fact that we’ve found what your father left and given it to the feds. Whatever
we have to say to get these people off your back. I’m sure Sean and Callie will help.”

She nodded. If they found her father’s mysterious research that so many had killed
and died for, Callie would absolutely try to help. Sean had worked this case when
he’d been an FBI agent. He knew the stakes. He’d jump in, too. It felt good to have
friends.

Bailey pondered the family camping trip, her past, her future . . . and the man in
front of her, as she ate more pizza. Funny, she hadn’t eaten this stuff in two years.
It was better than she remembered. Or maybe it just seemed that way because she ate
it wrapped in nothing but a sheet while in bed with the man she loved.

He polished off another piece, then wiped off his hands. “Feeling any better? Tired?”

“Strangely happy,” she admitted. “I like being here with you.” She felt herself blush,
then smiled. “But I’m also scared. How long can we search for something I may never
remember how to find? What if we can’t find it? How long until someone catches up
with us?”

Joaquin shoved the pizza box out of the way, then dragged her against him. “We’ll
figure that out if it happens.”

“I can’t expect you to give up your life for a month or six or—”

“I believe in you. You’re smart. You’ve made tremendous progress already, just in
the past two days. I have no doubt it will come back to you. Relax. Be patient with
yourself.”

Bailey tried to follow his advice. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and melted
against him. Desperately, she tried to clear her head, scuttle her anxiety, and let
the memories surface.

Nothing.

“You’re still tense,” he pointed out.

“I need answers now. Later might not help me. McKeevy will probably be trying to kill
me later. So waiting isn’t really an option.”

“I’m going to protect you,” he swore. “We’re in this together.”

“Why?” She stared into his hazel eyes, seeking an answer. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.
You’ve definitely saved my life and helped me piece together a lot of my past that
I’d been unable to figure out on my own. I appreciate it, but . . .” She paused, looking
for the right words to explain. “You didn’t know me four days ago. Saving me cost
you your job. I know you prefer to be alone, so this constantly babysitting me has
to be a pain in your ass.”

Joaquin pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “You didn’t cost
me my job. I was pursuing this case even before I knew your name. I didn’t have any
plans to stop, no matter what it cost me. I . . .” He grimaced, then cursed under
his breath.

“You weren’t going to let more women die so horrifically, I know. Your selfless sense
of justice is one of the things I really admire about you.”

“Wanting justice served for those victims he tortured and killed because he sought
Tatiana Aslanov wasn’t really the reason I saved you. I had a friend.” He sighed heavily.
“His name was Nate, a private investigator, but we met in the police academy.”

Bailey watched him struggle for his next words. Whatever he was trying to say caused
him a great deal of pain. It creased his forehead and clouded his eyes.

“Tell me,” she murmured.

“Kata wasn’t wrong when she said that I pulled away from my family after my dad’s
death. I spent a lot of years wondering what the point of family and friends was.
Eventually, you’d just have to endure the fucking terrible tragedy of losing them.
In my head, the fewer people I gave a shit about, the less I’d have to hurt.”

“But you have a mother and two sisters who love you. I’d give anything to have what
you don’t want.”

“And I never considered it from that perspective until you. I’d convinced myself I
was just fine, that I was keeping life simple, that my family had moved on without
me. Nate was the first person I cared about since my father. We were pretty good buddies.
We drank together, did our share of barhopping. We trained together, became beat officers
together. I never really realized how much he meant to me until one of McKeevy’s victims
hired him. She feared she was being followed—and she was, by the long arm of LOSS.
And as soon as Nate stumbled onto the truth, they broke into his house and double-tapped
him in the head. After my shock wore off, an absolute cold fury set in. I’m not sure
I’ve moved past that.”

Bailey’s heart went out to him. “How long has it been?”

“Less than a week.”

She reared back and stared at him in stupefied shock. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been dealing
with so much. The death, the danger . . . the long-lost orphan you had to babysit.
You haven’t had time to grieve.”

“I don’t think I really ever do.” He sighed. “I just shove it down.”

Bailey hadn’t thought she could be shocked again, but Joaquin proved her wrong. “Did
you ever cry for your father?”

“No. I wanted to a few times, but I stopped myself. I had to be the man of the house.
My mom didn’t need more children, much less a baby.”

“Are you kidding me? Crying doesn’t make you a baby. I sobbed for weeks after my adoptive
parents supposedly died. I stopped going to college and barely went to rehearsal.
Heck, I hardly left my house for what seemed like months. Does that make me a baby?
And don’t you dare tell me that it’s okay for me to cry because I’m female.”

His sheepish expression told her he’d been ready to respond with an answer like that.
“I guess I’ve always seen emotions as a weakness. I’m all . . . up in the air about
Nate’s death. I couldn’t go to his funeral because I was trying to keep you from being
the next victim. It was a guilty relief. I also know Nate would have approved. He
always sacrificed to do what he could for others. That’s one thing I always admired
about him.”

“Was he married?”

“No. A loner like me.”

A frown wrinkled her brow. “Why?”

He looked puzzled. “I don’t know. He never told me his life story. We survived the
academy together, drank, and chased skirts. I didn’t let myself get close to anyone.
We didn’t talk or bond or become besties. We just . . . understood one another.”

Bailey didn’t think that sounded like much of a friendship, but who was she to judge?
She only knew lots about Blane because he was an open book. He only knew stuff about
her because he’d mercilessly pried it out of her. Maybe she’d shut a lot of people
out in her life, too. But she wouldn’t do it anymore, not when she could see a future
and a family in front of her with this man, if she could just get behind his protective
walls and convince him to let go of his grief.

“I’m sorry you lost him.” She hugged him and rubbed her cheek to his, reveling in
his scratchy-soft stubble. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about him or your dad,
your sister or whatever. You’ve been here for me, especially today.”

“You’re not mad that I took you away from your life because of Nate? You don’t feel
as if I did it for revenge?”

Bailey shrugged. She could see how some people might interpret his actions that way,
but she knew that under his anger at Nate’s death, he was the sort of man who wanted
to stop the murders. He really did want to save people. Now she just had to show him
that he didn’t have to stand apart as he did it.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. It felt good. Right. As she pulled
away, she smiled at him. “You know, we’re kind of good for one another. You helped
me find the truth about myself. And I pried your secrets from you.”

“Yeah, then you encourage me to cry,” he quipped. “Great.”

She winced. “I know that might not seem like a bonus to you. But really, you might
not be able to move forward until you get it all out. I’ll even be happy to dry your
tears.”

He rolled his eyes. “If you have to do that, I might as well hand over my man card.”

“You’d never have to do that in my book. You are
plenty
of man.”

Joaquin gave her a proud little grin, then it fell to a crooked scowl as he stared
at the skin just under her chin. He swiped a finger across a tender spot. “I left
a little bruise on you. Jesus, I’m sorry if I was too harsh. I get around you and
I lose all my fucking finesse. Next time, if I hurt you, I expect you to say something.”

Next time?
He expected they’d be in bed together again? What if they found Viktor’s research
soon? Would that be the end of them? Or was he just as addicted as she was?

“Well, I know another way you could guarantee your man card with me.”

He raised a dark brow at her. “What’s that?”

“Why don’t you show me again how much man you are?” Bailey tossed off her sheet and
lay back on the bed, blinking up at him with a sultry glance.

J
OAQUIN sucked in a breath, his entire body tensing. His cock certainly stood, loud
and proud, ready to go again. He’d had her an hour ago, tops. He wasn’t seventeen
anymore. Yeah, he liked sex, but with the nature of his job, he’d gone without more
often than not. So his obsession with Bailey made almost no sense . . . and he didn’t
really care. It felt good. He wanted more of her. He didn’t want her feeling undesirable
if he said no
. Right, like that would ever happen.

Flinging his own sheet off, he revealed just how much she aroused him, stroking his
length lazily with one hand. “This manly enough for you?”

She pretended to ponder him, but he heard her breath hitch and shallow, and he hid
his smile. “I don’t know. Seeing you isn’t the same thing as feeling you. How do I
know you’d be half as good for the second time tonight?”

He liked her hint of tease. “You know, you might have a point. You’d be far more convinced
of my abilities if I did more than stroke my cock. Let’s see . . . How would you like
me to prove myself?”

Bailey pursed her lush mouth. “I have an idea or two.”

“I have more ideas than that,” he promised, abandoning his erection to stroke her
nipple instead. “Wanna see?”

“Hmm, maybe.” She looked up at him with those hungry blue eyes that damn near dismantled
his self-control. Her hair spilled around her in a pale, golden-brown cloud, and he
almost mounted and impaled her in a single breath. “I might have to hear them first.”

“I’d rather surprise you. Will you trust me? Please.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Joaquin was even more relieved to see that she immediately grasped the shift from
playful to serious. He cupped her face. “I’d never hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I want to . . . explore with you.” He wasn’t sure how else to say that he wanted
to try so much of what he’d seen at Dominion with her—and a million other things he
hadn’t yet dreamed up. If a way to give her pleasure existed, he wanted to be the
man who gave it to her.

“You mean tonight, because we have hours to kill and TV is boring?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Joaquin gentled his expression. He’d felt a whole lot
of determination to fuck her, but he understood why she needed to believe what they
shared was far more. “You’ve got something I can’t resist. I don’t know what this
is or where it’s going, but I know I couldn’t leave your side right now for anything.
I wouldn’t want to.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Then she bestowed the most dazzling smile on him, so happy
and radiant. “That’s how I feel, too. Bet you never thought you’d wind up in something
more than a fling when you took me from Houston.”

He snorted. “Hell, I never thought I’d even have a fling from this situation. Sex
was the last thing on my mind, until I saw you dance.”

She frowned up at him. “When did you see that?”

“The night I abducted you. You danced around your living room and—”

“Oh my gosh! Where were you, peeking in my window?”

“Inside the armoire, with my knees crouched up around my ears.”

“Holy crap, that’s a small space.”

“You’re telling me. It only got smaller as my cock got harder.”

Bailey didn’t hide her laugh. “Really?”

“You think that’s funny?” he challenged her.

“Maybe a little.” But her eyes danced as if picturing him cramped up in a small space
and fighting a hard-on amused the hell out of her.

“You know, I can’t exactly prove my masculinity if you’re giggling at me. That kind
of disrespect deserves a little punishment, I think.”

The smile slipped off her face. “Punishment?”

He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, patting his thigh. “Put yourself over my
lap, ass in the air, baby girl. I didn’t get to finish my spanking last time we tried
this. And you didn’t give me an honest response.”

She bit her lip and squirmed, pressing her thighs together. Now that Joaquin knew
what to look for, he realized that she hadn’t been frightened by him previously. She’d
been shocked by her arousal. It had startled and possibly shamed her. This time would
be different.

“Bailey . . .” He grabbed her chin gently. “Do it or say your safe word. It’s ‘red,’
remember?”

She nodded. Her breathing turned choppy. “Yeah.”

“You need to pick. If you’re having trouble sorting through your thoughts, talk to
me so we can come to an answer together.”

Bailey licked her bottom lip, and Joaquin made a mental note to see what that mouth
felt like wrapped around his cock soon. For now, he waited patiently, damn near holding
his breath. This would be a good test to determine how much she really trusted him
in bed.

Finally, she sat up, then crawled across the bed, approaching on his left. “Help me?
I don’t want to do it wrong.”

“There’s no wrong, but I’ll always help you.”

He took her by the waist and helped her across his lap. Once she was facedown, her
ass directly in his line of vision, Joaquin lost himself in her scent, the warmth
of her body across his bare legs, the spill of her silky hair toward the floor, and
her pert butt so taut and small right in front of him. His hand would cover more than
one cheek at a time. That fascinated him, as did the pale pink of her skin, her slender
thighs parting restlessly, her erratic breathing.

“Joaquin?”

Petting a hand over her butt, then down a thigh, he silently comforted her. “Tell
me, are you green right now?”

“Like traffic light green? Yes.”

“Good. Let me have my way with you now. If it’s too much, you know how to stop me.”
When she nodded, he tugged on her hair, gently lifting her head. “Did you mean to
say something to me?”

“Yes.”

He knew he should let go of her hair, but he liked the feel of it too much. Instead,
he released the tension just slightly, then smoothed his left hand down the curve
on her ass. “God, this is turning me the fuck on. Do you like having your hair pulled?”

“I do,” she breathed out.

“Do you like being over my lap?”

“Yes.” Her voice became something closer to a whimper.

That turned him the fuck on, too. He swallowed. “Do you want me to spank you?”

She paused, and the silence ticked on. “Um . . .”

“It’s a yes-or-no question, Bailey. Just be honest.”

“It’s hard.”

Joaquin could feel how badly she didn’t want to answer him. “Because you’re worried
that saying no will disappoint or upset me? It won’t. I came on too strong the first
time. I didn’t have your consent. We didn’t have a safe word. I wasn’t in control.
I want to do this again, but the right way.”

“I even liked it the first time,” she finally admitted. “I told you I didn’t because
I was embarrassed. Who gets off on being smacked by the guy who kidnapped her? I didn’t
understand why I was that girl.”

“There’s always been a crazy chemistry between us, baby girl. It’s feeling a lot like
there always will be. We can’t do this right if we’re not honest. So you just have
to tell me . . . green or red?”

She dragged in a shuddering breath. “Green. I want this. I want it a lot.”

And Joaquin couldn’t even begin to describe how thrilled he was that she enjoyed one
of his kinks of choice. “You got it. I want this a lot, too.”

Then he didn’t bother saying anything more, just raised his arm and brought it down
again, using the pull of gravity more than any real force. As he stared at her ass,
a faint handprint appeared—then disappeared almost as quickly. He did the same thing
to the other cheek with the same result. Hmm, he didn’t want to truly hurt her, but
this mild paddling wasn’t floating his boat.

“Did that sting?”

“A little.” But her tone said she’d really felt
very
little—and probably wanted more.

“Did you like it better this time or last? Remember, be honest.”

“The last time.”

“Me, too. I’ll try again.”

Quickly, he raised his arm again. This time, he lowered it with a whoosh he could
almost hear. The sizzle of his hand striking her skin burned a hundred times hotter.
The gasp of her little bite of pain got him a hundred times harder. The print of his
hand on her pretty, pale ass looked a hundred times more vivid.

“
That’s
what I’m talking about.” Satisfaction poured through him. She looked fucking fine
with his mark on her. “Bailey?”

“Yes.” Her high-pitched reply told him he’d given her what she wanted, too. “Please
more.”

“My pleasure.”

Joaquin let the blows fall, one after the other, in a savage but steady rhythm all
over her upturned backside until it turned bright pink, then rosy, then vivid red.
He stopped for a moment, tearing himself from the hazy fog of his desire. Every time
he spanked her, his head swelled with the most amazing feeling, as if he was all-powerful
and linked into this one woman. This time, he swore he could read her mind.

Just to be sure, he hesitated and listened to her choppy breathing, watched the flush
of arousal crawl up her back. He tugged on her hair and turned her head to the side,
leaning over until he looked into her eyes. Dazed, glassy, utterly aroused. With a
smile, he dipped his fingers between her slender thighs and into the well of her pussy.
Soaking wet.
Perfect.

He tried to calm his own labored breathing, sucking in huge drafts of air and caressing
her backside.

Bailey arched to his hand. “That . . . When you rub my skin like that, it’s as if
you’re pressing the heat deeper into my flesh. It’s sinking into my blood.”

“You’re aroused.”

“Completely.”

“Your pussy ache?”

“Totally.”

The way she admitted it only notched up his arousal. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Right now.”

If she hadn’t sounded desperate and gasping for air, he might have told her that she
didn’t have the control here. But her voice indicated she dangled at the end of her
fraying rope. Damn it to hell, he was at the end of his, too.

Joaquin lifted her up from his lap and guided her to face him before he eased one
of her thighs over his lap. As she straddled him, he probed until he found her wet
opening, then gripped her hips. He surged up on one violent thrust, shoving his way
to the end of her passage.

Bailey gasped and blinked at him with a helpless stare. Her fingers curled into his
shoulders, nails digging. “Joaquin . . .”

“More? Softer? What is it, baby girl?”

“More. Not softer. I felt you everywhere inside me. The tingles prickled up my thighs.
The ache behind my clit is killing me.”

“You want to come again?”

She nodded feverishly. “Please.”

“We’re going to do it together, so you’ll need to wait for me.”

She winced, as if she knew the waiting would be its own form of torture, but she swallowed
her protest back. “All right.”

“Good. I want to hear you, Bailey. If it feels good, sigh, scream, call my name. My
goal is for you to run out of breath.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off with another plowing thrust.
All she managed after that was a high-pitched cry that almost didn’t sound human.
Her walls tightened on him. With a lazy thumb, he slid a few circles over her clit,
gratified when she repeated the sound, only this time it sounded like even more of
a wail.

Her sound raged through his blood like a fever. Urgency jacked his system. His fingers
bit tighter into her hips as he crashed up into her again. This time, she met him,
slamming down for another slow, deep stroke. As he withdrew, the sensations were so
acute. Peeling off his skin would affect him less. She danced like lightning through
his body as they fell into a rhythm. He spiked up, she gyrated down. Together, they
made a kind of bliss that sent his eyes rolling into the back of his head and a long,
loud groan falling from his lips.

Tighter and tighter, her pussy clamped down on him, signaling her rise to orgasm.
Even if he hadn’t felt that, Joaquin would have known by the flush of her skin, the
bite of her fingers in his scalp, the helpless begging in her blue eyes.

“I’m so close,” she mewled.

“Good. So good, baby girl. Yes . . .” Joaquin could barely wrap his head around a
coherent sentence right now. The pleasure steamrolled all thought. He couldn’t breathe
fast enough, couldn’t get deep enough. He couldn’t be with her enough to stop wanting
her—ever. The thought seared across his brain and jolted down to his cock. “Now!”

Joaquin seized her lips, certain if he couldn’t take her in every way possible at
once that he’d lose his damn mind. He plunged his tongue in, danced around hers, and
captured her screams as she let go.

Her hard, staccato pulses all around him launched him like a rocket. He surged inside
her again, releasing a torrent of need and flooding her again, this time right against
the opening of her womb. No doubt, they were playing a dangerous game—and he just
didn’t care. If he could be with her always, so much the better.

Their rhythm slowed, along with their heartbeats and breathing. She collapsed on him,
clung, head on his shoulder, embracing him like he was the lone pillar holding up
her life. Joaquin didn’t want it any other way. He was in no hurry to withdraw, shower,
and leave as he usually did with a lover. No, something primal inside him wanted to
stay as long as he could and plant his seed deeper still until she was ready to take
him again.

Something inside urged him to tell her that he loved her.

What would she say to that? Did he really know what love was? Maybe. Kind of. Who
the fuck knew? All he could say was that Bailey hit him on the most profound level,
and he couldn’t imagine her not being in his life.

So how the hell was he going to manage when LOSS and McKeevy came calling? He refused
to think about losing her. He hadn’t been there to protect his father or Nate, but
by God, he’d stay with Bailey every step of the way to keep her safe.