Mercy (14 page)

“What?”

“Put a wall between us.”

“You mean like a prison wall?”

God, he just wouldn’t stop. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“We’re not dating.”

The verbal thrust slipped right through her ribs, pinning her to the cabinet. Her stomach ached. Without thinking, she held a hand to her middle before her insides could spill out. “I’m aware of that, Jarrett.”

“And I don’t trust you.”

For some reason, that cut sliced even deeper. He launched his shots so fast and so furious she couldn’t take cover or find an inch of armor. “Maybe, but you need to talk with someone.”

“What I need is a good hard fuck.”

Every word carried a zinger. With each syllable he tried to bat her away. This was about flailing and thrashing. About throwing verbal punches and landing them faster and faster as she fought back but lost ground.

The obvious choice was to stomp off and say no to him for the first time since she showed up at his door. She considered it as she bit her bottom lip. Then her gaze slipped to his hands and the death grip on the counter behind him, and she decided to hold on tighter.

“Okay.” That’s all she said. One word.

His eyes widened. “You’re volunteering?”

“Do you have another woman waiting somewhere to service you?” If he said yes, she might just find that killing spoon.

“Not right now.”

She took that as a green light and moved. Her hands skimmed up and under the edges of his suit jacket. “Then I’m here.”

“Just like that?”

“You need relief.” She kissed his chin. His neck. “I’ll provide it.”

He grabbed her hands and held her out from him a few inches. “Why in the hell would you agree to those terms?”

“That was the agreement I made when I walked into the building.”

“Tell me to go to hell.” His grip eased, but he didn’t let go. “Christ, Becca. I’m not one of your assignments.”

The blows kept coming. His face flushed as he found new vicious ways to phrase things. Ways that would hurt the most.

“You think the sex is just for you? That I don’t want it, too?”

At her words, his thumb traced a pattern against her palm. “I’m the one demanding it.”

“And I’ve taken the lead.” Little did he know there were times when she wanted to cross that huge room between their bedroom and bust down the door. “Do you want to know why?”

“No.”

“You are raging and fighting me, but deep down you hear me. You understand the wanting runs both ways.”

He shook his head. “This is about bodies.”

“You’re telling me
any
female body would do?”

He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say got lost when he shut it again. A few seconds ticked by before he finally came up with something. “It’s just sex.”

“Not for me.” Her hand brushed over his cheek. When he didn’t push her away, she caressed his lips and chin.

“What are you saying?” The words whispered between them.

She smiled when the puff of air blew across her lips. “Let me show you.”

Before he could back away or come up with a new sentence to show her how little she meant to him, she closed in. Her hands went to his tie. With a tug, she pulled him into the family room. He turned to head for the guest room. She was having none of that.

“The floor.” She kissed him then. A long and lingering touch of her lips against his. “You on your back.” She licked her tongue around the outside of his ear. “Me straddling you.”

“Fuck, yes.” He said the words on a harsh breath.

Not giving him time to change his mind, she slid her fingers into his hair and held him close. He swept her up in a kiss that robbed her balance. Heat wrapped around them and his muscles tensed. No longer trying to duck out of her hold, he had his arms around her waist now.

“You remember my favorite position, don’t you?” She nuzzled the sensitive space just under his ear and felt him shudder. “How you suck my nipples as I ride you?”

He ripped his jacket off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She stripped off his tie. Four hands and deep breathing. In the rush to get to his bare chest, she tore at his shirt. The expensive material ripped but he didn’t even flinch.

“Now you. Take the shirt off.” He ripped his hand down the front of the dress shirt she wore. The buttons pinged as they flew off and bounced against the floor.

The room tipped and her feet left the floor. When the blur of movement focused again she was on top of him on the area rug. “Impressive.”

He swept a hand down her stomach then lower. A finger rubbed against her. “I want your pussy, your nipples. All of you.”

She sat up and threw the shirt off. When she lay down again his finger inched into the crease of her ass. It traveled lower with the tip rimming her. “Right there, Jarrett.”

His gaze searched her face. “You make me . . .”

He kissed her until the last of her breath left her body. She clung to him as she rubbed her lower half over his cock.

She smiled when he groaned. “Hot?”

“Weak.”

The compliment sent a shot of light through her. “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk.”

FIFT
E
EN

Jarrett had no idea how he got downstairs an hour later. He’d tried to ignore the text messages he’d been getting since yesterday. When he got up to number four, he threw up the white flag.

Leaving Becca proved harder. He’d never be able to sit in that family room again without seeing her looming over him as she pressed her breasts to his mouth.

Damn.

He got off the elevator and headed for the bar. With a quick wave of thanks to the chef who stood guard, Jarrett cleared the room. All except the woman at the bar.

He took in the black skirt and slim-fitting sweater and knew he was going to regret this. “Kyra?”

She spun the stool around and flashed him a welcoming smile. Her shoulder-length blond hair fell around her face but her long legs stayed crossed. “If it isn’t D.C. powerhouse superstar Jarrett Holt.”

“Have you been reading my email again?” He leaned in for a hug and short kiss on the cheek.

“As if you share your emails with anyone.”

“Very true.” He slid onto the stool next to her and leaned against the bar. “What are you drinking?”

“Club soda.” She shook the glass and the ice cubes clinked. “Your award-winning chef was nice enough to scramble around behind the bar and find this for me.”

“Probably had something to do with how cute you are. He has a weakness for twentysomethings.” Jarrett hitched his chin in the general direction of the glass. “Still, nicely done.”

“Thought you’d approve.”

After diving into one whiskey bottle after another when he got out of jail, he refrained from alcohol. Losing control qualified as one of his greatest fears. Between the member issues and running his club, he didn’t have time to waste recovering from a hard night.

“Now that we’ve exchanged greetings, what’s with all the secret phone calls and requests for a private meeting?” He held up his phone and shook it.

“Can’t a girl say stop by and say hi?”

He saw the trap right there in front of him ready to spring. “Sure.”

“That’s convincing.”

Laughter filled her voice and he wondered how the boys at college resisted her. For their sake, he hoped they did. He’d hate to have to kill some kid for looking at her funny. “Since you never do, I’m wondering what you’re doing here.”

“I wanted to see you.”

That sounded bad. “Really?”

“You underestimate your charm.”

But he recognized hers and stayed on his game. She was about to try to wrangle something out of him. And she was one of the few people with that gift. The other was upstairs in the shower. “Not even a little.”

Kyra shrugged. “Well, I tried.”

Jarrett glanced at the hidden camera over the bar and started the countdown to Wade storming in. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

“That’s awfully dramatic.”

“There are security cameras in here, you know. Wade is probably on his way downstairs to beat the crap out of me right now.” When it came to being a big brother, Wade took the role seriously. Since Jarrett thought of Kyra as a sister, he did, too.

“I’m not afraid of Wade. “

“Then you’re one of the few.”

“He’s an overprotective big brother but pretty cuddly underneath.”

Jarrett wondered how hard he’d get punched if he called Wade cuddly to his face. Hard to image the former enforcer tolerating that nickname. “Let me assure you that you are one of the only people on earth who thinks so.”

She frowned at him. “Tell me why would he care if we were talking.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m trouble.” Not that Jarrett played with women this young or so close to home.

“Oh, Jarrett.” She put her hand on his knee. “Any woman with half a brain would recognize that.”

There was nothing sexual about the touch. She was one who hugged and reached out. It meant nothing, but that didn’t promise it would translate that way for the camera. “Always knew you were a smart one.”

“Got the whole ‘hide the women and lock the doors’ speech about you from Wade long ago.” She waved her hands as she talked in an exaggerated drawl.

“I’m thinking I should be insulted.”

“Nah, it was typical big brother stuff.”

“Just so you know, Wade has threatened to beat me to death if I even look at you for more than two seconds.”

“He’s an idiot, but I love the big lug.” She shook her head. “And I can’t believe he threatened his boss.”

“He likes to think he’s tough.”

She winked. “Your virtue is safe with me.”

“Good to know.” Now that they’d circled and stalled, he went in for the hunt. The club didn’t open for hours, but he had mounds of paperwork and a call from Bast that needed a return. “So, if you’re not here to drag me to bed, why are you here?”

She wrinkled her nose, something she’d been doing since her gawky teen-girl days. He’d known her for more than a decade and watched her grow and change. There was nothing awkward about her now. The braces were long gone, as was the stick figure.

Her ability to gain his full attention wasn’t. “Kyra? Spill it.”

“A job.”

Not the request he expected. “Excuse me?”

“I want to work here.”

He glanced at the kitchen door, then to the dark back hallway. There was no place for her in his world, which made his response quick and easy. “No way.”

“I am finishing up my master’s degree. I need some cash.”

International business. He knew this part because he’d helped her decide between graduate programs. “I’ll give you money.”

She shoved against his arm. “Now who’s being insulting?” She rolled her eyes, looking every bit the troublemaker she’d always been. “What I want is a chance to make some money.”

“Pick one of the million other businesses in the D.C. metro area. Tell me what you want and I’ll make some calls.”

“I don’t want you pushing people around to get me in somewhere. I want to be here.”

“Wade will never let that happen.”

“He insists the business is legitimate.”

A kick of satisfaction hit Jarrett at that. Seeing where Wade was now, strong and sure of who he was, compared to before never got old. He was self-made with his criminal past well behind him. “It is.”

“Then why can’t I put on an apron and help out? Metaphorically, of course. I doubt the women here wear aprons.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Not sexy.”

His mind flashed to the overzealous, too-much-drinking dinner groups that set up in his club at least once per week. Gambling was a regular part of the club activities, and Jarrett could see some of the conscience-light losers make getting her naked a sick game.

No fucking way
. “I’m thinking the objection has something to do with all the men who hang out here and how Wade wants you fitted for a chastity belt.”

“For God’s sake. I’m not a virgin.”

The reveal skidded across Jarrett’s brain. “That is not information I need to know.”

“Give me a chance.”

He stood up and held out a hand to her. “What you can do is come into the office and we’ll figure out where else you can work, preferably in an office that won’t lead to my death at the hands of my club manager.”

Her shoulders fell. “You ruin all my fun.”

•   •   •

Becca sat in his condo office and stared at the empty space at the bar downstairs through the security feed. Ten seconds ago Jarrett stood there with a hot blonde. Now Becca saw nothing but abandoned barstools. She clicked on random computer keys trying to track them but nothing happened.

Then she tried the up arrow.

Then the tab . . . ah, there he was.

With a swipe of his card, he guided the woman holding his arm into his office and shut the door behind them. After nine slaps of the tab key, Becca realized the camera coverage didn’t extend to his private office.

How freaking convenient.

She stood up, forgetting the files and notepads and even the computer, and moved to the doorway. She was debating the trouble she’d cause if she smashed the monitor against the floor. Or she could rip off the front door and pound down the walls until she got downstairs.

Yeah, nothing irrational about any of that.

Jealousy. She wasn’t a fan.

Sure, the fact he “tried” out the female staff shouldn’t be a surprise. She shouldn’t care. She’d had sex on the job. Hell, he started out as her sex on the job. But there had been no one since him. The idea of letting another man touch her, kiss her, enter her . . . no way. Not yet.

She rubbed her forehead as she paced her way into the family room. Nothing about her surroundings registered. She couldn’t get around the fact she’d been all over the man less than an hour ago.

Glancing down, she stared at the spot on the floor where they rolled over and she straddled him, taking him deep and riding him until they both sprawled out exhausted. He’d showered and gone downstairs, claiming he was already late. Unable to hold off another second, she’d headed for his office for a quick look around the computer. Now she was sorry she hurried or ever even ventured into that room.

“What are you doing?” Jarrett’s voice cut through her mental wanderings.

She’d been so lost in her pacing and internal whining that she missed the lock and the door and any other noise that could have signaled his arrival. She froze in the middle of the floor and stared at him, wondering how long she’d been lost in her internal raging. Then she looked at him, really looked, for any sign that some part of his suit had spent a few minutes on the floor or around his knees.

Nothing obvious.

She squinted as she scanned him for evidence. “You were just in your office.”

“I see you checked out the security system already.” He threw his keys on the couch cushion. “Didn’t take long.”

“Was there supposed to be a waiting period?”

“Fair enough.” He loosened his tie and dropped onto the couch cushion in front of her. He reached for the water bottle he stole from her earlier and abandoned.

The damn man even whistled.

“How did the meeting go?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“Fine.”

“She was pretty.” Becca meant to hold that piece in and prove she didn’t care. The misfire wrecked that plan pretty damn fast and had her swearing under her breath.

He took a swallow of water then slowly lowered the bottle again. His throat moved but he didn’t say anything.

“What, no comment from Mr. Super Businessman?”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “What do you want me to say?”

“For a guy who . . .”

“What?”

“Never mind.” She waved him off. No way could she go there. The peace between them was shaky, at best. Bringing up his past—the forbidden subject—would guarantee more snapping and fury. The constant smash of anger exhausted her.

“Finish the sentence,” he demanded.

She pretended not to care. Even flicked her wrist and waved him off. “It’s your life. You can do whatever you want.”

“I am aware of that.”

His nonchalance finally broke her. The words came spilling out before she could call them back. “You throw around the word ‘whore’ and—”

“When?”

“Talking about your mother.”

The relaxed stance disappeared. Now he sat up straight, fully engaged. “What does she have to do with this conversation?”

“Nothing.” Becca expected an abrupt end, possibly followed by him leaving the building. Wouldn’t be the first time. She got a confused stare instead.

“I have no idea what we’re talking about.”

“The blonde.” When his mouth fell open, Becca picked at the wound one more time. No matter how she tried to block the image, it kept floating through her head. “What, did you forget her name already? Typical male. The bra is back on and her name is gone from your head.”

The jackass had the nerve to smile. “Do you honestly think I had sex with you, then went downstairs and had sex with another woman ten minutes later?”

The arguments flooding Becca’s brain just a second ago vanished. “What?”

“You fucking drained me dry, woman.”

A sudden heat moved over her cheeks. Not one to embarrass easily, the sensation freaked her out. “But I saw—”

“Damn, Becca. I’m not sixteen.” He leaned forward with his elbows balanced on his knee . . . and a stupid grin plastered on his face. “A guy needs some recovery time.”

Now there was new information. “You haven’t that I’ve ever noticed.”

“Admittedly, I tend to bounce back quickly with you, but I can assure you I did not run downstairs and have sex with someone else.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she swallowed it. Yeah, that news made her far too happy.

She waved him off, hoping he didn’t see the slight shake in her hand. “It’s not my business.”

“It is to the extent a woman has the right to know who’s been climbing all over her.”

Her hand fell to her side as her mind went blank. “When you put it that way . . .”

“There were days, long ago, when I did have sex with the staff. It was part of the strip club benefits. The women wanted perks and, well, I didn’t exactly say no to much back then.” He stood up and joined her on the same side of the couch. “It’s part of the reason I wanted out of that business. I ended up playing part-time bouncer and full-time rescuer to some of the women. Not my thing.”

She once craved the information, needed it for the job. Now she wanted to plug her ears and wipe it from her brain. “Okay.”

“Point is, I don’t have sex with the staff now. I have a pretty firm rule against it, actually.”

And like that, he blew apart every rumor winging around town. People said he had a knack with the ladies, which she could attest to. Many people saw the private club as a front for sex. He probably would have been investigated for that if the membership rolls didn’t included judges, prosecutors and quite a few elected officials.

The party line insisted this was an old-fashioned supper club. Food, business talk and that was about it. For a long time Becca questioned what happened in the back rooms, but something in Jarrett’s stunned tone and calm body language told her he was telling the truth on this.

But Becca still had one question. “The woman?”

“Wade’s sister.”