Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (15 page)

“Did you think I would judge you? Them? You make it sound like I wouldn’t think your family was good enough.” Phoebe’s relaxed state went by the way of the front door. She felt a sense of indignation but tried her best to tamp it down. They were still getting to know each other. Hadn’t he just called her a socialite? “Just because my father came from money doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work for a living. I do what is necessary to help those who don’t—”

Phoebe had still been talking when Lach stood up, taking two steps to pick up her coffee mug. It wasn’t until he leaned down to whisper in her ear that he had her teeth snapping shut. The warmth of his breath caressed her cheek, and instantly all thought fled from her mind.

“You’re getting bent out of shape for no reason,” Lach murmured after having placed one hand on the couch behind her. If she turned her head, their lips would touch. The magnetic pull was almost too much, and had he not spoken she would have made the first move. “I’ll reheat your coffee. Join me in the kitchen while I make us dinner.”

Chapter Twelve

L
ach heard the knock at the door, signaling John’s arrival to take third shift. When Phoebe had first entered her apartment, the smartest thing for him to do would have been to stay outside in the hallway. She’d looked disheartened with the pace of the investigation and all he’d wanted to do was make her feel a little better. What should have been a five-minute talk had turned into hours, dinner, and more conversation. All this evening had done was make him want her more.

“That’ll be John.” Lach had switched to water a couple hours prior. Looking at his watch and seeing the ten o’clock hour, he truly couldn’t believe the amount or how fast the time had passed. He stood and walked his glass to the kitchen sink. When he looked up, it was to see Phoebe standing in her stocking feet with her arms wrapped around her waist just as she’d been earlier today. “Kimmie’s in good hands. Whoever is threatening your father will slip up and it will be soon.”

“The snow hasn’t stopped yet.” Phoebe was biting her lip and she had no idea how appealing she looked with her hair tucked behind her ears. “If you’d like, you can use the spare bedroom. I promise not to tie you up and have my way with you.”

Lach gritted his teeth, not in anger, but in restraint. This was the third time she referred to taking control in the bedroom and while she had to know he was dominant through and through, she still prodded him. If she only knew how he really liked to have sex with his woman, he wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t resort back to her typical socialite proper tendencies and show him the door.

“I live in the city, so I don’t have to travel far.” Lach didn’t add on that if he had lived in the suburbs, he’d still get into his Land Cruiser and maneuver the treacherous roads. Being inside her apartment hadn’t been the wisest choice, but he wasn’t about to make the worst either. He walked to the door and took the time to look through the keyhole, assuring himself that it was John. Lach swung the door open. “I’ll be out in five to give you an update.”

“Take your time,” John replied, looking over Lach’s shoulder.

He didn’t have to be told that Phoebe had followed him into the foyer. Shutting the door, he turned around. Her left eyebrow was raised and had she been wearing glasses, she would have looked like a teacher about to give him a lecture. Knowing she’d eventually say what was on her mind, Lach took his time in getting his jacket from the coat rack.

“You resorted back to your ten word sentence,” Phoebe said, as if he’d committed a sin. That was laughable when the sins he wanted to execute had nothing to do with his vocabulary yet everything to do with his mouth on her body. “You’re really not as unfriendly as you look.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Lach shrugged into his jacket and made sure the collar laid just so. It was an old habit that was hard to break. He took his time thinking about what she’d said. They’d touched on his former career during dinner and he’d tried to keep it short and brief, not willing to relive or tell her how he’d fucked up. His team members on the HRT had thought him friendly as well, until all hell broke loose. “I say what needs to be said.”

“Then thank you.”

Phoebe was no longer holding onto her waist as if she were afraid to be alone. Lach felt confident that she would be fine on her own this evening and he didn’t regret getting to know her a little better. It just made solving these threats all the more vital to their potential future. He wanted her total and complete submission. It was that simple. At this point it was just a matter of when.

“For?”

“For saying what needed to be said tonight…at length.” Phoebe took a step closer and Lach curled his hands into fists to prevent reaching for her. “I enjoyed the company.”

Fuck it. Lach could see that Phoebe’s eyes had traveled to his lips. She might as well have lowered her gaze to his cock. He hardened at the thought of having her drop to her knees and take him in her mouth, but he knew this wasn’t the time nor place. Once again, he reminded himself of his oath to Crest and Lach wouldn’t break that. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a taste. He closed the distance between them and none too gently slipped his fingers into her hair, tilting her head just so.

“There will be a time when I won’t leave this apartment,” Lach murmured, his mouth inches from hers. He slowly kissed her bottom lip, tasting the wine she’d had after dinner. The culmination of the sweet, rich flavor greeted his tastebuds and he found he couldn’t get enough. “I just hope you’re able to handle what I want to give you.”

Lach didn’t give her time to answer as he sealed their lips together, exploring the hidden recesses of her mouth. Her tongue felt like silk as it came out to play. She gave as good as she got, never once letting him have the upper hand. He immediately wanted to take that challenge, and had he not been in full control he would have taken her up against the wall. As it was, she had no idea the lifestyle he truly led. It was something they’d have to discuss, but now wasn’t that time. He slowly ended the kiss, pulling far enough away so that he could see her blue eyes clearly. They were darkened, just the way he liked.

“Get some rest. Tomorrow will be like any other day.” Lach gradually released her and stepped back, making himself turn around and walk to the door. Before opening it, he spoke without looking at her. “I enjoyed tonight too, Phoebe, but it won’t happen again until the Secret Service takes over. Your reputation and life mean more to me than a quick fuck.”

*   *   *   *

Phoebe had anger running through her veins and there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to wash the emotion out of her body. She walked into campaign headquarters, already bustling due to a debate her father had flown out for this morning, and walked directly through the bullpen and into her father’s office. Last night had been simply amazing and Lach had to go and ruin it by having the last say before he’d walked out the door. A quick fuck? She threw her coat over a chair and yanked her gloves off.

She and Lach had spent hours getting to know one another and the more they’d revealed about their past, the closer she’d felt to him. He’d put distance between them when she’d brought up his time with the FBI. She’d immediately sensed it and tried to backpedal, but the moment was broken. Had he not kissed her so passionately, she would have said that was why he’d said those parting words.

“Is there a reason you’re acting like a cat who’s been dumped into a bucket of water?”

At the sound of Lach’s voice, Phoebe looked up from where she stood behind her father’s desk. The fact that he looked like he’d had a peaceful night’s rest and appeared more attractive today didn’t improve her mood. She threw her gloves down and took a deep calming breath, knowing that people could see them through the window. It didn’t escape her notice that Stewart and the young volunteers were intentionally leaning back in their chairs and observing their interaction. The additional oxygen didn’t help her mood.

“If that’s how you view me, Mr. McKinnon, then I’d watch out for my claws.” Phoebe had made sure to paste a smile onto her lips so that the crew thought she was having a good morning. Gossip ran strong through these types of campaigns. Isn’t that why Lach and she had postponed the inevitable, to keep her father’s canvass and the family name from being tarnished in the media? She had no doubt he knew how she felt about their relationship, yet he had the gall to basically say it would be a quick fuck like they’d had in Iraq. “They can be rather sharp.”

Lach had the audacity to laugh, and while it only raised her anger to fury, it did get Stewart to turn around and focus on the phones, which was his job. In the mood she was in, she just might send him out in this cold weather to pass out flyers. As for Lach, he was too large for her to physically remove him but she could make damn well sure that he didn’t want to be in her vicinity today.

“I’m not seeing where humor comes into play.” Phoebe waved her hand across the desk, making her point known. “I’ve got a lot of work to do and calls to make. Paul and Bill are traveling with my father, along with Connor and who knows how many members of his PSD. We’re all safe and sound, following our schedules like good little pets. So if you’ll excuse me?”

“No, Miss Socialite, I won’t.” Lach kept his smirk in place, but his eyes darkened to an almost pitch black and his jaw muscle ticked, warning her that what he was about to say was unmistakably important. “You have this annoying habit of running hot and cold, all the while implying that you have the upper hand should this continue any further than it already has. I’m here to tell you that when it comes to sex, I’m in control and I will make damn sure that both of us are satiated.”

“You think you can do that with a quick fuck?” Phoebe asked, shooting the question at him as if she’d had her words loaded in the clip of a semi-automatic pistol. She recognized his surprise, but the words kept coming. “There’s a reason why I have the type of personality I do and it’s because men don’t understand how to handle a woman with power.”

“After spending time with me, I’m surprised you’d think I would have trouble handling any woman.” Lach took a step forward, but as if realizing who was watching, he stopped and widened his stance. He crossed his arms in his usual fashion and she would have given anything to wipe that all knowing smile from his face. “To clarify, my reference to a quick fuck was to last night only. If I’d had a choice, I would have taken you up against the wall like the true animals that we are. Instead I chose to do the right thing. Call it a bad habit if you’d like, but I value my honor. And going back to last night’s conversation, it’s you that better be ready for when the Secret Service takes over your detail. We’ll see how you like being declawed.”

Phoebe’s heart was racing at his promise of what was to come and her body responded in ways that she didn’t know it could. Warmth spread through her lower region and she became breathless. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say her panties had just become a little damp. A thousand thoughts were racing through her mind and she wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. These eclectic emotions had definitely chased away her anger, but instead of feeling embarrassed by the slight misunderstanding, all she wanted to do was call the Secret Service and have them start immediately.

“I—”

“Phoebe, I need to talk to you.” Kimmie was in the doorway, unshed tears in her brown eyes all the while her chin was tilted in defiance. At that precise moment, Phoebe’s cell phone rang. Looking down at her device that she’d placed on the desk, she saw that it was Timothy from Crescent. Her sister’s plea contested the additional interruption. “Now.”

“Lach, could I see you for a moment?” Ethan asked, standing behind Kimmie with rage written across his boyish face. There was no dimple to be seen. Phoebe’s phone was still ringing and when Stewart came to the window, waving his hand that he had a question, she uncharacteristically looked Lach’s way. “Now.”

“I’ll take care of Stewart, Phoebe.” Lach’s professional side came to the forefront, his directives short and to the point. She appreciated his assistance. “Ignore your phone and talk to your sister.”