“Are you going to join me or do you want to stay there and watch?” she said, letting one thigh fall open as she let her fingers drift from her throat down over the space between her breasts to her belly button. She had no idea what she was doing, making it up as she went along, but he seemed to like it.
“I thought you wanted dinner?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I changed my mind. I want you. Now,” she purred, simultaneously thrilled and curious where her new, sexy persona was coming from.
It was the mask, the clothes…it was just make-believe. It was all an act, right?
“You’ll get no arguments from me,” he said, putting the glasses down on a dresser and crossing the room purposefully.
Her heart clenched a little when she thought she saw his hands shake ever so slightly as he started to undo the buttons on his shirt.
He was
that
affected by her?
She sat up, sliding her legs over the side of the bed. “Let me,” she said. Though her own hands trembled, too, she quickly undid the buttons and pushed the shirt hastily over his shoulders, sitting back to enjoy what she’d only had a glimpse of the night before.
She lightly traced the muscles of his tapered waist and the six-pack abs that she couldn’t resist dipping in to kiss, touching his skin with her tongue and enjoying the vibration that worked through him when he moaned.
“You’re delicious,” she said against the warm skin of his stomach while she undid his slacks, the hardness beneath nudging her as she gently loosened the waist, only to discover he wore nothing underneath.
Oh my. Wetness soaked the thin strip of lace between her legs. How could she ever walk away from this perfect man? How could she carry out her plan when she wanted him so desperately?
He kicked the slacks to the side and gently pushed her back on the bed, but she knew if she felt his weight on her, his skin against hers, she’d never be able to leave. Her body ached to be filled by him again, and she had to stay in control.
Stay with the plan. Save Tracy.
Before he could cover her, she evaded him, sliding down and brushing her lips over the head of his cock,
then, craving the taste of him, going deeper. He caught a sharp breath as she slid her hands around to his backside, digging her nails in slightly. The hard touch earned her an exclamation of his approval.
His hands moved from her shoulders into her hair, not forcing, but just rubbing his thumbs rhythmically over the soft skin behind her ears as she paid homage to the length of him with her mouth, exploring and taking as much of him as she could manage. She’d never enjoyed this act as much as she did right now, and had never wanted any man as much as she wanted Mason.
It was sheer torture.
He was panting harshly and murmured a warning that he was close to coming. She pulled back, smiling up at him, her hands stroking him lightly where her mouth had been just before.
“How close?”
“Close enough to warn you so you can decide how far you want to take it,” he said huskily, his fingers stroking her hair, giving her control of the moment. She held her breath. She wanted to give him this, and so much more.
“How far are you willing to take it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can you give up complete control?”
His eyes narrowed. “How so?”
She smiled wickedly, dipping down for another taste, moaning against him when his entire body clenched tight. A bead of salty dew formed at the tip of his cock
and she darted her tongue out to catch it—could she? Should she bring him that complete pleasure, and then walk away? Would that make her feel better about this?
No
, her conscience nagged. It didn’t work that way.
She lifted up. “Let me tie you up, and when you’re at my mercy, you can see how far I’m willing to go,” she teased, her heart in her throat.
He paused as if considering. “What about you?”
“Believe me, this
is
my pleasure. Besides, I’ll let you be the boss later,” she promised with a naughty wink.
Maybe she needed to talk to someone and see if she had a multiple personality disorder, she thought randomly, because she had never been this sexy or bold in her life. Maybe she should just walk around everywhere wearing a costume. It seemed to bring out the vixen in her. But she was also hiding behind her mask, anonymous.
Mason smiled widely, lifting his arms to either side. “Okay. If that’s your fantasy, then I’m in. Where do you want me?”
“Why, on the bed of course. I want to have you where I can lick every delicious inch of you at my leisure.” She meant every word, and her heart ached for what she was about to do because of it. “Do you, um, have something we could use? Something to bind your wrists?”
His eyes darkened with excitement, and there was an answering response in her belly.
“I have some old neckties—in the bottom dresser drawer.”
They switched places as he got on the bed and she found the ties, proceeding to attach his arms to the posts, tying his wrists firmly but not so tightly that he wouldn’t be able to get free…eventually. It would give her the time she needed.
When she finished, she didn’t step back, didn’t think about the trust he was offering her—the trust she was abusing. Instead, she leaned in to kiss him, and found herself drawn deeper and deeper, levering herself over and sliding her sex, barely covered by the thong, over the ridge of his erection.
Bad move. She was so tempted to just rip off the scrap and take him for the ride of her life, but she couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Hey,” she said, her voice husky. He probably thought it was from desire, but it was really from the tears she held back.
Never, ever again,
she promised in her mind. From now on Tracy was on her own. But right then, her sister’s safety was on the line.
“What?” he asked, staring at her deeply.
“You have anything downstairs, you know, like honey or chocolate sauce?”
His eyes widened. “Uh, yeah, there’s some honey on the kitchen counter.”
“Perfect.” She pushed off him, her feet hitting the floor. “I’ll be right back.”
She hoped he couldn’t see how she quickly dipped and picked up her dress and pulled it on over her,
running down the stairs, skipping the creaking step lightly. She left her shoes there by the door. She’d get them on the way out.
Scurrying down the hall toward the office, she slid inside the room, not closing the door so that he wouldn’t hear the noise.
Gina found the drawer where the pictures were the day before and opened it, searching for the envelope with Rio’s name on it—it wasn’t there.
“How can you not be there? What the hell?” she asked the room on an urgent whisper. “Okay, okay, think,” she commanded herself, and saw a stack of files and Mason’s briefcase on the chair by the desk.
Looking upward, she knew she didn’t have much time before he got suspicious—she had to get the pictures and scoot. Pushing files aside she found nothing. They were gone. Peeking at the door, her breath came too quickly and she thought she might be ill.
Where could they be?
M
ASON STARTED TO CALL OUT
, but it hit him that he hadn’t asked her name…again. So he just yelled, hoping she would respond. It didn’t take this long to get to the kitchen and back.
Something wasn’t right, and as his desire diminished, his anger increased. Arousal was gone as he struggled himself out of the ties. Good thing his sexy seductress didn’t know how to make a decent knot. Having Amanda find him this way in the morning would not be his first choice.
Pulling his pants on, he walked out softly, noticing the dress was gone. Had she lost her nerve? He found that hard to believe. She’d seemed really into it.
Walking down the stairs, he noticed the shoes still there, and the coat. There was a shuffling noise, like a drawer opening and closing, coming from the vicinity of his office.
Grabbing the shoes, he marched in that direction. As he guessed, the door was open, and she was so caught up in rifling through his papers, that she didn’t realize
he was there for several minutes. He waited, wondering if she’d find what she was looking for. Her beautiful features were quite frustrated.
Looking up to where he stood, she gasped and ran for the other door, but Mason beat her there. Her heels dangled from the fingers of his right hand as he watched her, her chest heaving heavy, panicked breaths.
Caught.
“Hey, Cinderella—you forgot your shoes,” he said with no small amount of sarcasm.
She backed up another step, obviously unsure what to do. “Mason, please, I can explain.”
“And I can’t wait to hear it,” he said, stepping inside the office and closing the two of them inside. “Let’s start with your name and whom you’re working for, and we’ll go from there.” He stared at her, hard. “So, what were you looking for?”
“What do you mean?” she bluffed, and pretty lamely.
A part of Mason wished it wasn’t true, and it wasn’t the part that was still aching between his legs. Well, it was, but his disappointment drove deeper, leaving a well of something bitter and dull inside his chest. He’d wanted her in bed, sure, but for some reason, he thought he’d found…what? His perfect fantasy woman?
He watched her back away until her firm butt hit the desk where they’d had their clinch the night before. She was still gorgeous. For the first time he understood how men caved to treacherous women spies who promised them anything for the secrets they kept.
Taking in the way her breasts lifted and fell as her nervous breathing pushed them higher, he was almost willing to just give her what she wanted if she’d finish what they started upstairs.
Almost, but not quite. “So, how about we lose the masks and you tell me who you are and what you’re looking for.”
“I, uh,” she stammered, and then her shoulders slumped in defeat, her delicate hands rising to touch the back of her hair to work the clasp of the mask. When she pulled it away, there was a click in the back of his brain. Not only was she beautiful, but she also looked familiar. He’d seen her before…somewhere.
“I know you,” he said vaguely, waiting for her to fill in the blank spot, distracted by the cute way her nose tipped up a little at the end and intrigued by the heat that invaded cheeks that had gone pale when she’d been caught.
“Are you a private investigator? A reporter? Or a garden variety thief?” he guessed, trying to figure out where he would have seen her. He didn’t really think she was a simple burglar; there were valuables, including his computer, that she hadn’t even looked at.
“Do I look like a private investigator?” she asked with more sauciness than he would have expected, given the situation.
“I could just call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering.”
“I didn’t break in. You let me in,” she countered defensively.
“They won’t know that,” he threatened, even though he had no intention of calling anyone. Not yet.
“Do you work for Peter Dupree?” he ventured to catch her reaction and, sure enough, hit a target as he saw she recognized the name.
Damn. He reached for his cell phone, and she stepped forward, speaking, finally.
“No, please don’t,” she said breathlessly, her voice trembling slightly, eyes watery.
“If you’re in with Dupree, I want no part of it. I assume he sent you here to seduce me, so you could get the pictures?”
She drew back in surprise, as if he’d hit close to the mark again, but then shook her head.
“No, you don’t understand, I’m not working for Dupree…I’m, I’m…” She took a deep breath, and he saw her hand shake as it lifted to dash away a stray tear. “I’m Gina Thomas. I’m Tracy Alvarez’s sister.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised.
He studied her face and nodded. That’s where he had seen her, in one of the pictures that Rio had at his home. Mason had dropped by to give Rio some paperwork and saw a family picture on the table. It had been an older picture, and he never would have equated the quiet, plainly dressed woman in the photo with the dazzling, smart-mouthed seductress standing before him now.
“So you know Tracy is having an affair with Dupree. What’s your role in all of this? Some kinky three-way thing?”
Her face contorted in something between disgust and anger. “No. Are you a sicko or something? No!”
“You’d better start from the beginning, Gina. I want to know what’s going on. All of it.”
“Okay, just listen,” she said, sinking into the chair where she’d sat when he saw her the night before. Realization dawned.
“You were in here trying to find the pictures last night, and you didn’t. That’s why you agreed to come back.”
“No, I did find them.”
“Then why didn’t you take them?” And why did she stick around and have sex with him on his desk? To get the invitation back, he presumed darkly. He’d fallen for it, too.
“Tracy needed me to get those photos and I agreed because…she’s my little sister. She told me the affair was just a one-night stand that you and Rio were using against her. Considering how awful a husband he was, I couldn’t let that happen. Then—” Gina paused, and he didn’t say a word as she continued “—then I saw the pictures weren’t exactly what she told me. So I put them back. I didn’t take anything.”
“So why did you have sex with me, and come back for more?”
Her cheeks burned dark red, and he almost felt bad for embarrassing her.
“Because I wanted it,” she said, but then looked him in the eye. “I had sex with you last night because I got carried away. I enjoyed it. I was coming back because
I wanted more, to have that fantasy night with you, but I knew you couldn’t find out who I was. Then, Tracy told me about Dupree, and I knew I had to try to get the pictures. But that was
after
. It wasn’t why I did what I did last night.”
“I wish I could believe that. Do you have any idea who Peter Dupree is?”
She shook her head. “Not specifically, but Tracy was afraid of him. He threatened her.”
“Do you always agree to commit felonies for family?” he asked, drawing a sharp look from her.
“She’s my sister,” Gina said, as if that explained it all. “I’m sorry. I hated doing this, but I never intended to see it through—having sex—with you tonight, because I knew I was here to take the pictures.”
He couldn’t deny the smidge of admiration her words evoked. Would he go that far for Ryan? Probably, but his brother, while uninhibited, would never land himself in a situation that demanded it.
“Why should I believe you?”
“This guy, Peter Dupree, he’s dangerous. He told Tracy that he’d hurt her if she didn’t get the pictures back, or worse. She was really frightened. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you came back here to get them.”
“Yes,” she said with a defiant tip of her chin.
He said nothing.
She shook her head, then, her shoulders slumping.
“I wanted to help Tracy,” she said, her voice choking
again. “When I knew I’d have to steal those pictures, to trick you, I hated it,” she said vehemently. “Tracy is always getting herself into these messes, and she usually needs me to help her out of them. I knew she’d gone too far this time, but still…”
Mason cursed and shoved a hand into the pocket of his pants, pacing, unsure which instinct to go with. He trusted his instincts, and though it went against every ounce of common sense he had, he believed her. He wasn’t going to let her know that, not yet.
“Why didn’t you just go to the police, or come to me? Why not tell someone you were being threatened, that Tracy was in danger? And how do you know she’s not in with this guy, and helping him out by getting the pictures?”
He saw for a moment the flash of uncertainty. It didn’t occur to her that her sister might be involved with Dupree and playing her for a patsy.
“No,” Gina asserted, but weakly. “He warned her about going to the police. He said he had people on the inside and he’d know. She was truly terrified. She said he even scared his little boy, who hardly speaks, and is almost kept like a captive.”
Mason nodded. Agent Kelly had said much the same thing, that Dupree had feelers inside law enforcement. It wasn’t surprising. Cops could be as corrupt as anyone else, he knew. It added credibility to Gina’s story, but then he latched on to something else.
“Wait—she knows about the boy? His son?”
Gina shrugged. “She mentioned him. She felt bad for him. Said Peter keeps him locked up on the boat.”
“Well, Dupree supposedly killed the boy’s mother, and then kidnapped the kid.” Mason noted the horror in her reflection. It was more confirmation that this was new to her.
“You couldn’t find the pictures because I turned them over to the feds. They made it clear that anyone who knows is in danger from this guy. And it sounds like you know more than you should. So does Tracy.”
“I can’t believe this. I thought, at worse, that the guy was trying to hide from his wife or something. But kidnapping? His own son? Killing people? What has Tracy gotten herself into?” Gina’s voice rose with each question and she stood.
“The important part is that we know Dupree knows about the photos now, from Tracy—that changes everything.”
“Why?”
“The FBI agent thought we were probably safe as long as Dupree didn’t know—but he does.”
“Tracy said she had until tomorrow to bring him the pictures.”
Mason nodded. “Okay. That buys us some time.”
Gina sagged a little farther and he stepped forward, but then her back straightened, and she pulled herself up.
“Your brother-in-law and your sister are being investigated, to gather the degree of their involvement with Dupree.”
“There’s no way Tracy knows about this,” Gina insisted, stepping forward.
“The special agents I spoke with will want to talk to you. Anything you know, you have to tell them. It could help put Tracy in the clear, and protect her, if she comes clean with them. She was right, she is in grave danger. Rio, too.”
Brown eyes went wide. “You believe me?”
He hesitated before answering. “Yes, I do. Your sister has also put
you
in a great deal of danger.”
She closed her eyes. “Tracy is…Tracy,” she said with a shrug and a small smile. “She had no idea about Dupree. I’m sure of that. She’s just always been impulsive. She’s always needed attention, to be the focus, in the spotlight.”
“Even if she had to get in trouble to keep it?”
“I suppose, though I never thought of it that way. She’s…uninhibited. Adventurous. In many ways, I always admired that about her, because we’re total opposites. We always have been.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“Cut her a break,” Gina said loyally. “Rio was a lousy husband, and she turned to someone who would give her what she was missing in her marriage.”
“Dupree.”
“Yes. She said he was handsome, sexy and he was good to her. Until she told him about the pictures.”
“Well, she got attention from the wrong guy this time.”
“Tracy isn’t big on common sense, never has been. Most people find it charming, especially men.”
Mason quirked a curious eyebrow. “So you make a practice of bailing her out? How is that supposed to help her? She never learns from her mistakes.”
Gina stiffened defensively. “That might be true, but not this time. Tracy has made some bad decisions, but she doesn’t deserve this.”
“No, you’re right.”
Mason found Gina even more attractive when she had that fire in her eyes. Even more so now than he had before, which was strange, considering the circumstances. Mason valued commitment, maybe more than most people because of what he saw day in and day out. The fact that Gina was willing to do anything—almost anything—to help her troubled sister impressed him.
Who knew what Tracy Alvarez’s motives or methods were, but Gina, at worst, was a sister who cared too much. That had made her an easy target, especially if Tracy was used to Gina cleaning up her messes. Mason believed Gina, but the jury was still out on Tracy as far as he was concerned.
“You said you agreed to come here for your own reasons. Because you wanted to be with me. Was that true?”
He couldn’t help it. He needed to hear it again.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” she looked away, embarrassed. “I…Last night was…unexpected. I’d ordered a ghost costume, figuring I could blend in, and then I found myself
on stage, and then…in here, with you. You were…well—” She sputtered to a stop, and this time he did walk over to her, pulling her up close to him.
“What?”
“You…moved me. It was overwhelming. Exciting. I’ve never done anything like that, never dressed this way, or let a man I just met…do what we did. I never wanted anything so much as I wanted to be free to come here again and spend the night with you, but, well…now you know the truth.”
Heat shot through him in response to the clearly declared truth. Mason was a lawyer to his bones, and at the end of the day nothing mattered to him as much as the truth. He could hear it in her voice, see it in her eyes. There was no subterfuge. She’d tricked him, yes, but she’d done it out of love for her sister. How could he fault her that?
She said she wanted him. He chose to believe her on that score, too. He was willing to risk being a fool for this woman, he realized. That had never happened before.