Killer Secrets (22 page)

with. Nosy bastards. They shouldn't be here. Sorrell had
taken out more Special Forces teams than he

wanted to think about. They had wives, families. They had
no business here.

"I wouldn't dare push the big bad cartel lord,"
she drawled, that soft Georgia accent stroking over his

senses and tightening his balls as the last button gave way
beneath her fingers. "Why, Ian, what would

make you think I'm that brave?"

"Because you're a hellcat," he accused her
roughly.

"Can I be your hellcat?" Something, a softness, a
need in her voice, shredded the last threads of control

that held his hunger back.

Lust surged through his system. The defiance that poured
from her did something to him. He didn't want

to make her submit, as he should have. Hell no, he wanted
to burn inside her fire. He wanted to feel her

come apart in his arms and know he controlled it.

Making her submit wasn't what he needed. Controlling that
fire, that burning sexuality and energy, that

was the challenge. And the male animal inside him was hard
and eager to face her defiance.

"You. Are making a mistake." He jerked the short
skirt of her stretchy dress over her thighs, his hand

finding sweet, slick flesh ready for his touch.

"What mistake?" He heard the moan in her voice,
the whimper of need.

"Where are they, Kira?" He parted the folds of
her pussy. "I don't have a damned problem letting them

watch me fuck you, but you might not like it."

She arched closer. "Exhibitionism turns me on,"
she panted, her fingers working on his belt, the clasp of

his pants.

Fuck it. He knew they were there. She knew they were there.
And her body was covered. His former

team might be able to tell what they were doing, but they
wouldn't see a damned thing. And that was

besides the fact he couldn't have made it back to the room
before getting inside her if he had to.

Excitement coursed through Kira as she felt Ian's fingers
caressing the swollen, sensitive folds between

her thighs. The rasp of his fingertips, the warmth of them,
were driving her crazy. His finger swirled

around her clit, dipped and pierced her core.

She held on to him because her knees wouldn't hold her
steady. Her legs were weak, breathing was

almost impossible. All she knew was the heat and pleasure
of his touch.

And how much she needed it. Ached for it. She didn't give a
damn who was watching, though she knew

Durango team, knew there was only one of that crew that she
had to worry about actually keeping his

eyes on them at the moment.

Right now, nothing mattered but easing the pain she could
feel coursing through Ian. She heard it in his

voice, felt it in his touch. Something had happened with
Diego Fuentes that had torn inside him with the

force of a dull knife and left a ragged, aching wound.

"I need you," he bit out as she released the
straining length of his erection.

"I'm here," she whispered breathlessly.
"Right here."

Two fingers pressed inside her pussy, stretched her, opened
her for him, and she couldn't help but

tremble, but whimper for his touch.

He was her weakness. She had known it a year ago and she
knew it now. His touch made a lie of a

decade of sexual certainty. His kiss reminded her that she
was a woman, a woman who was created to

submit to her man. And Ian was her man.

"Come here, kitten," he groaned, his arm reaching
beneath her rear and lifting her close.

He was fierce, uncontrolled. She was shaking and out of
control. Her legs wrapped around his hips and

her cry pierced the night as he began working his cock
inside her.

"Oh God. Ian." She arched back into the wall, her
nails biting into his shoulders as she pressed her hands

beneath his shirt.

"You're tight, Kira," he groaned at her ear, his
teeth catching the lobe to nibble at it erotically. "Tight and

hot and so sweet."

She felt his knees bend, his hold tighten on her. A second
later a fractured cry tore from her lips as he

thrust farther inside her, deeper, harder.

The impalement stole her breath from the pleasure and the
pain. She writhed on his erection, trying to

work it deeper, loving the burning pleasure, that edge of
pain that she had never imagined could be so

damned erotic.

She could feel every bulge of vein, every hard throb of
pulsing blood. The way his ass clenched beneath

her heels, the way his back tightened as he worked deeper,
and it only made her hotter, wetter. It only

made her crave him more.

"Are they watching, Kira?" His voice was
tormented as he stilled inside her, and buried his face against

her neck. "Where are they?"

She heard the torment in his voice. They were his friends.
Friends who he believed thought he had

betrayed them. Friends he would have willingly given his
life for.

"I don't know," she panted out breathlessly. She
didn't know, not for sure. She suspected. She assumed.

But she didn't know, and it was best that way.

His hold tightened on her as he half-lifted her and
stumbled to the door.

"Ian?"

"Goddamn you, you're mine!" His voice raged with
possessiveness, the tone, his hold, sending a piercing

shaft of aching desperation through her soul. He sounded as
though he meant it. "I'll be damned if they

need to watch this."

He turned to the wall within the room, pressed her to it,
and began to thrust.

His cock pounded inside her, he took her ruthlessly,
thrusting, penetrating, groaning her name as she

watched the stars explode in front of her vision as she
tightened around him.

"Ah God. Yes, baby. Come around me," he groaned.
"Let me feel it. Every ripple . . ." His head fell

back, his breath heaving through his chest as his hands
clenched on her ass.

Kira couldn't think. She couldn't plot a next move. She was
lost in the pleasure, coming apart and

wondering why the hell he was holding back.

"Easy, kitten," he soothed as she shuddered
against him. He was moving again, stumbling, until seconds

later her back met the sofa and he was pulling free of her
grip with a shattered groan.

It was only then that she realized he hadn't donned a
condom. And she hadn't considered it. Hadn't

thought about it.

"Ian." She tightened her ankles on his back.
"I'm protected."

He stilled, only the thick head of his cock remaining
inside her as she watched his jaw bunch.

"Protected?"

"Birth control." She swallowed tightly. "I'm
protected, Ian. Don't leave me."

He shook his head, his hands clenching on her hips as she
felt his cock throb imperatively.

"I haven't fucked without a condom since I was a
kid," he groaned, but she heard the need, the hunger in

his voice.

"Neither have I, Ian." She blinked back the
sudden moisture that wanted to fill her eyes. "I want to feel

you. All of you . . . Ian!" She screamed his name as
he plunged inside her again. Sweat dripped from his

forehead, perspiration covered her body, soaking them both,
as she felt the ecstasy consume her again.

Surely she couldn't orgasm again so soon? Surely he didn't
have such a hold on her?

But as she heard his harsh groan, felt the first spurt of
semen fill her, she exploded again. Arching in his

arms, shaking, shuddering, she gave what she had never
given before, and accepted something she had

never accepted before. She gave herself, and she took all
of the man in her arms.

It should have been frightening. It should have terrified
her, knowing what she had just opened herself to.

Instead, it felt right.

When he collapsed over her, the deep shudders racking his
body, matching hers, she could do nothing

but hold on to him and let her tears mingle with their
combined perspiration. What the hell would she do

now, if she lost him?

IAN KNEW TEARS WHEN HEsaw them. He knew the jerk and
shudder of a woman's body when

she held back her sobs. He'd known those signs for the
better part of his life, but he hadn't thought he

would ever see them in Kira.

He carried her to their bed, tucked her in, and got in
beside her before pulling her into his arms.

He felt her fingers clench at his arm, felt her slender,
lithe body as it tried to sink into his. And he had

seen her eyes. In the dim light of the room he had seen the
shattered realization in her gaze before she

could hide it.

She was a trained operative, but she had never gone into an
assignment quite like this one, against a man

that her heart was involved with. The Chameleon didn't get
involved. That agent couldn't be tempted,

couldn't be bribed, and not just because no one knew if it
was a he, a she, or a figment of someone's

imagination. But because whoever, whatever it was, the
Chameleon was ice. Unaffected. Unsympathetic

to the enemy.

He smoothed her hair back from her face, realizing he
didn't want the truth of why she was here, with

him, in his bed. A part of him just didn't want to know if
she was there to betray him. But he suspected it.

There was guilt in his lover's eyes, and it stabbed at his
heart.

"You make me forget," she finally whispered,
causing him to still against her.

"Forget what?" he asked

"Who I am."

His lips quirked at her reply. "You're Kira."

"I'm more than just Kira," she whispered.

She was the Chameleon. The woman and the agent were
struggling now, he had seen it in her eyes, he

felt it in her responses to him. He had avoided it each
time he had seen her, each time he had held her

since she had come back into his life.

"Right here, there's no room for anyone but
Kira," he warned her, careful to keep his voice low, to keep

her close. "Don't make that mistake. Don't bring
something else into this relationship."

She was silent for long moments.

"It's who I am," she finally whispered.

Ian ran his hands over her hair before pulling her head
back and staring into her eyes.

"We both know better than that." He wouldn't let
her believe otherwise. He couldn't. Not here. Not

now. He was not going to face the Chameleon.

Ian watched as she licked her lips nervously, the way her
gaze darkened with feminine uncertainty. At

that moment he realized, he knew. Yeah, she had a mission.
The Chameleon had been sent to him. But it

was the woman he was dealing with. It was his woman.

He couldn't lie to himself any longer. Kira was here for
more than a fun time in the sack, or to cover his

back. She was a contract agent, the Chameleon, and he could
see the battle waging in those beautiful

eyes. She was there for much more than the man the woman
was claiming. The agent was also there.

And it was the agent's agenda he needed to know.

Fourteen

SLENDER TENDRILS OF LIGHT STREAKEDacross the sky as the sun
began to rise over the

horizon. The faint light eased the darkness that filled the
bedroom and allowed Kira to ease up in the bed

and stare into Ian's sleeping face.

She had known the moment he slipped into sleep, just as she
knew that the slightest movement by her

now would awaken him. And how she longed to move, to touch
his face, to ease the lines of strain from

his brow.

He had sold his soul to his father for his friends' lives.
For Nathan, for Kell's lover, for the men he fought

with, for a single chance to break the hold Diego Fuentes
seemed to have with anyone he connected

himself to, and she knew it. There was no other reason that
he would risk his soul this way.