Deliciously Dangerous (6 page)

“Tasting cherries is one of my favorite things to do. I don’t mind sharing,” he said. His eyes ran down her body to her groin, where they lingered, frank and outrageous.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t move with the aura of sin around him like a halo. He was temptation personified.

She had the sense, as she looked up into that calm, stunningly handsome face, that he was running possible scenarios through his head. Hot, dark, erotic. The air around them seemed suddenly charged with his powerful sexuality. It enveloped her, penetrating through the pores of her skin and stoking her blood with fire.

A delicate shiver of arousal rippled through her, followed closely with an aching tension deep in her core.

She couldn’t help remembering the way his words about his father had touched her even though she hadn’t wanted them to.

Sympathy was equated with weakness in her line of business; it could draw a person into a situation where perspectives could become warped, and emotions took over where logic should rule. But she’d already succumbed to it once.

He startled her with his next words.

“You don’t trust me,” he whispered, tenderly brushing the wet strands of her short hair then grazing his fingertips along the line of her cheekbone. “You shouldn’t. I’m not good for you.”

The warning was diluted to nothing by the sadness
in his face. His mouth twisted into a half smile that was cynical and weary. His dark eyes looked a hundred years old. Bad Jammer. The devil in cutoff denim. Self-professed seducer. Warning her away. He didn’t see the paradox, but Callie did. He was nobody’s hero, but he would save her from himself.

She had spent too much of her life with truly evil people. Jammer claimed to be bad and she had the reports to prove it. But why didn’t she sense it in him? She wouldn’t want him to kiss her right now, touch her, hold her while the scent of desire and cherries surrounded her.

He’s deliciously dangerous.

Yes, she had thought that. And if Jammer himself wasn’t dangerous, then what she felt for him when he was this near surely was. She couldn’t fall for him, not for his body or his tarnished soul or his allure of the forbidden. There was no room in her life for a rogue. She couldn’t have her heart stolen by a man like him. She was above that. She had to be.

She told herself that. But then he touched her, setting off a fire in her blood.

He gripped her waist, pulling her close, his hands warm and firm on her bare skin.

“This isn’t what I ever intended,” he said, lowering his head, his gaze on her mouth.

“Yeah, I know. Me, either.”

He laid his mouth gently on hers, his kiss soft, but only for a moment, like testing the waters. Then it blossomed, and he kissed her as if the world was coming to
an end, rolling his mouth over hers, his hands molding her to him like a second skin.

His kiss stole her breath away.

Her head was swimming and her body came alive. Damn, he was good at this. She wanted it to go on—would have in that second risked her life to stay right here and let him take her like some trophy.

But to her surprise, he broke the kiss and stepped back. “Got to get this job done. Want to help?”

Regaining some of her equilibrium, she braced her hand on the smooth wooden workbench behind her. “Yes, if it’ll get it done any faster.”

He chuckled. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Patience sucks.”

“Exactly what I would expect you to say, Gina.”

She shrugged without apology.

He opened a jar and poured the reddish-black contents into a colander, straining it into a bowl beneath. The smell of the cherries filled Callie’s nose. The fruit remaining in the colander was soft from the fermenting.

Jammer picked up a spoon and selected a cherry. “Don’t take it whole. Lick it first.…” His lean jaw clenched, as if he was barely holding on to his restraint.

Fire licked through her, deep and low.

He smelled sweet and tasted tart, and she thought she’d rather eat him than the cherry he held out to her on the tip of the spoon.

She indulged him because he was making her wait. Callie put out her tongue and licked at the cherry on
the spoon, allowing her mouth to absorb the hot, spicy richness. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”

His gaze darkened with heat. “Now, bite it in half.”

He watched raptly as she did so, her lips tingling from the juices. She closed her eyes as the liqueur’s flavor burst on her tongue. When she swallowed, the brandy burned a path down her throat to settle in her empty stomach like a bomb, radiating heat outward like the concussion from an explosion.

She heard him exhale a deep breath and she smiled before she opened her eyes. Giving him an even badder bad-girl smile that told him she loved having the upper hand, she leaned forward and tried to take the half of the cherry still on the spoon.

He pulled it away and shook his head. He set the spoon down, grasped her around the waist and lifted her easily up onto the table. Spreading her thighs apart, he settled in between them, bracing his hands on either side of her hips.

“Are we done tasting?” she asked with a pout.

The feel of his lips on hers was exquisite, warm and heated, undeniably demanding. When their tongues touched, then tangled silkily, sparks ignited inside her stomach. He tasted like wild, untamed lust, and she thrilled at the amazing sense of feminine power that she could make this man so hungry for her.

With a low growl deep in his throat, he closed the scant distance between them and pressed his lean body up against hers, his strong thighs on either side of hers, trapping her so his thick, impressive erection made itself known. She could feel the heat and hardness of his
chest crushing her breasts and the breathtaking ripple of muscle in his belly and flanks as he shifted even closer.

Lost in the need for him, Callie reveled in the unadulterated passion exploding between them—without thoughts of the rules of the game they were playing, or her “job” getting in the way of her pleasure. Letting instinct take over, she slid her hands around to his jean-clad bottom, molded her palms to his firm buttocks and arched into him.

The effect was like a lightning strike, and he slanted his mouth over hers for a deeper kiss, a hotter, wetter possession. His hand stole beneath her top, and she shivered as his fingers skimmed their way upward, and then curled around the plump curve of her breast. Her bra was lacy and sheer, the fabric thin and insubstantial, and she was eternally grateful that there was no excess padding to separate the fire of his touch from her aching flesh. Then he found her nipple and rolled the taut, throbbing tip between his thumb and forefinger, and she nearly came undone right then and there.

As if sensing just how fast their encounter was spiraling out of control, he slowed their kisses, leaving her feeling flushed, and both of them breathing fast. As she tried to calm her erratic heartbeat, he licked the inside of her mouth, gently bit on her lower lip and soothed the slight sting with the soft, damp stroke of his tongue.

Eyes closed, she let her head fall back, exposing the column of her neck. With his hand still on her breast, he dipped his head, his silky-soft hair brushing her jaw as he suckled on a patch of skin, then nibbled his way up
to her ear. She inhaled a sharp breath and another surge of sensation swamped her as she drew in the warm, masculine scent that was uniquely his own.

Damn, he smelled delicious. She wanted to take a big bite of him and lick his burning, salty skin, feel the heat and steel of him against her lips, taste him with her tongue.…

She groaned and reached out to snag the T-shirt he was wearing. Pulling up, she ripped it off his body so that she could settle her hands against all that taut muscle.

His skin was like velvet as she ran her palms over the planes of his chest, brushing over his flat nipples and down the sides of his torso to the heavy muscle of his back.

“What about the cherries, the bottling?” she asked.

“We’ll finish up, don’t worry,” he responded. “Later.”

“I
’D RATHER FOCUS
on the fruit of your body right now.”

Jammer couldn’t get enough of Gina, her blue eyes wide with the same anticipation he felt thrumming through his veins. Her eagerness fueled his and he loved watching her come.

He’d have to absorb as much as he could of their time together, for too soon it would come to an end.

Once he screwed over Fuentes, the drug lord wouldn’t soon forgive or forget who had taken him down. Even from prison, Fuentes would wield the power to kill Jammer and anyone involved with him.

He would need to disappear and assume another identity, and he couldn’t take the risk of dragging Gina into that scenario. Not when he’d been responsible for so many bodies already. He couldn’t bear having her death on his conscience, as well.

But he wouldn’t think about that now. Now was the time to make some memories that would last him a lifetime.

The scent of her mingled with the aroma of fermented cherries like an aphrodisiac, rich and thick with sensual promise, tantalizing and seducing him even further.

As he’d demonstrated before, he wasn’t one to rush a good thing…especially when it came to sex. He liked to savor the seduction, enjoy the slow, arousing buildup of hot I-have-to-have-you-now kind of foreplay, make all the spine-tingling sexual tension last, so when they finally came together there would be no forgetting what sex with him was like.

“Hmm, on second thought…” He flashed her a wicked grin as an idea formed in his mind. “Maybe we can do both at the same time.”

“Oooh, I like the sound of that,” she said, her eyes flickering with interest and excitement.

He skimmed his fingers along the curve of her waist and watched as her nipples peaked against her top. Her natural response to his touch caused his own body to tighten in places, too. “Are you feeling daring and adventurous?”

She laughed breathlessly. “Absolutely. Bring it on.”

“You ever done body shots?”

“No, but I know what they are. What did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t we play it by ear,” he said, his lips dipping to hers again. Burying his hands in her hair, he moved his mouth over hers, slow and languid, his teeth nipping at her plump bottom lip. Then he slid his tongue inside, and she met every hot, moist sweep of his tongue with her own. She tasted like spice and sweet cherries as fine and appetizing as the brandy.

He used his mouth to seduce and tease. Pulling away, he kept his lips just out of reach of hers, taunting her. But Gina wasn’t a passive woman. She caught him behind his nape and pulled his mouth back to hers.

He laughed softly against her lips, accepting that he would never forget this woman. The thought of being without her made him press his mouth harder, the need inside driving him.

He lifted her and eased her against his groin. The heat between them flared and they both groaned.

He trailed his fingers up her quivering thighs to the crux of her sex, where he could feel the dampness, and he guessed she wasn’t wearing panties under her tight, hip-hugging shorts. He smoothed his palms over the curve of her buttocks, then leaned over her, holding her heavy-lidded gaze as he pulled the white peasant top off her in one smooth stroke, baring her upper body to his hungry gaze.

He brushed his fingers over the swells of her breasts, and her breathing deepened in anticipation as he dragged the stretchy, sheer cups of her bra down, releasing those two full, perfectly shaped mounds of flesh. Her nipples puckered, tightening into hard beads that looked as delicious as two cherries.

She curled her hand around the nape of his neck and drew his head downward. “Put your mouth on me,” she urged huskily. “Please.”

He pulled back slightly as she thrust her body toward him. Reaching into the colander, he grabbed a few cherries and crushed them, releasing the juices locked inside.
Then he smeared his fingers over each of her nipples and heard her suck in a breath.

He gently grazed a nipple with his teeth and another gasp escaped her. The taste of hot woman and sweet cherries burst on his tongue when he laved her searing, juicy breasts.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Sugar and spice and everything nice.”

And finally, a long-drawn-out moan sounded when he took her deep into his mouth and suckled hungrily on her soft flesh, cleaning up as much of the juice and crushed cherries as he could.

Her fingers raked through his hair as he gave the other breast equal attention, until she was writhing beneath him and panting in that needy way he recognized all too well. He blazed fiery, moist kisses up to her throat and along her jaw as he moved over her and settled his hips against hers. He pressed his solid erection—still confined behind the fly of his cutoffs—against the crotch of her shorts, exactly where he knew she’d need that firm, driving pressure the most.

He watched her eyes darken with desire, and could feel the heat and dampness of her through the heavy denim. Jammer did his best to keep his focus on her and away from the demanding ache in his cock.

Lowering his head, he kissed her, while moving against her in a slow, sensual motion that was as intimate as the act of sex itself.

Her hands caressed and kneaded his shoulders. She glided her palms over his taut belly and around to his back, where she kneaded her fingers into the muscles
in an attempt to urge him to a faster tempo. Wrapping her legs around his thighs, she grabbed his ass so she could control the depth and pace of his strokes.

He wrenched his mouth from hers and managed a laugh. “Damn, maybe patience is overrated.”

“Exactly,” she said, her breathing hard and rasping.

“You’ll have to find a little bit more patience, sweetheart,” he said as he curled his arm around her waist, lifted her and stripped the tight shorts off her body. He also removed the lacy bra, so that she was completely naked on the wooden table.

“No fair. You’re still dressed.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said softly. With his palm on her chest he leaned her back until she was resting against the wall. Then he grasped her just under the knees and pushed her legs apart until she was bared to him.

“Oh damn, Jammer. I want you.”

“Soon. Very soon, baby.”

He grabbed more cherries and crushed them, then rubbed his fingers over her clit. Gina cried out, but he didn’t give her a moment to catch her breath. His mouth captured her clit with suctioning pulls and swirls of his tongue, and she came with quick thrusts of her hips.

His restraint finally broken, Jammer undid his cutoffs and let them and his briefs drop to the floor.

When he moved back to the table, she was waiting. Her hand snaked out, captured his throbbing cock and guided him to her. He needed no encouragement as he slipped inside her, the juice from the cherries sliding along his shaft with a tingling, sensual burn.

The heat of her sex scorched him. Made him move with deep, slow thrusts inside her.

Then she tensed and quickened, captivated as she reached between them to feel him glide wetly into her, then retreat. Her touch was heavy and bold, and he loved this side of her. Most of the time she was out there for everyone to see, but this Gina, this intimate Gina, was all his.

Jammer wanted more, to connect when he hadn’t—wouldn’t—allow himself to have anything beyond casual and quick sex. Playing it safe had become ingrained in him for three long years. Then she’d opened that door in Paris and he would never be the same. Casual and Gina just didn’t mesh.

But he and Gina did.

In a profound and primal way that he hadn’t thought possible.

He knew that every moment he spent with her would only make it that much harder to separate when the time came. His chest and throat constricted at the thought, so he pushed it aside and focused on the incredible sensations she was generating with her sleek, sexy body.

“Jammer, please,” she begged softly.

His control severed and his hips plunged faster into the tight core of her. She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing hard and holding on to him as if she would never let go.

He deepened his thrusts, his possession raw and savage. Matching his rhythm, she finally came, holding nothing back and whispering her satisfaction. One more flex of thick muscle and his own climax roared over
him, joining hers. And she felt it, accepted the power of him, the brutal honesty of the moment.

Jammer threw his head back, caught, the wild grip of her flesh wringing him. Splintered rapture shredded his composure. Yet in the throes of release, he was aware of her smooth skin, the scent that was quintessentially Gina, the soft gasp as she absorbed the pleasure he was giving her. “Damn, Gina,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her, the last threads of passion dissolving under a slow, thick kiss.

Seconds passed as they held each other. Darkness had fallen outside the window and the rumble of Gina’s stomach broke the silence.

He chuckled and let her go. “Sounds like you need some food.”

“I’m starving. Those cherries made me a little tipsy on an empty stomach.”

“Let’s quickly finish this bottling and we’ll head into the house. I’ll make you a meal.”

She looked at him with one eyebrow cocked. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you cook.”

“I do.”

“If you also iron, I’m going to keep you.”

He laughed and felt that same constriction in his chest. He told himself it wasn’t possible. He dressed quickly, handing Gina her clothes, then made quick work of bottling the brandy, stoppering it and setting it on a shelf with the others to receive the special Craving Brandy label.

Holding hands, they left the shed and walked to the
house. Gina stopped suddenly and said, “Wow, check out the stars. The night sky is gorgeous.”

Jammer looked up and took in the beauty of the smudged blue sky dotted with lights. She was right.

“Let’s eat outside. It’s so pretty,” she exclaimed.

“No problem. There’s a patio by the kitchen door that overlooks the pool and the vineyards.”

“Sounds simply wonderful.”

They entered the house and headed upstairs, where they took a quick shower that soon got out of hand. Once again Gina’s stomach rumbling sent them back on course. Sitting at the island, she flipped open her cell phone. “Let me make some calls and see if I can put something together while you cook.”

He nodded and went to the fridge, pulling out what he needed. He set water to boil and when it was ready added lasagna noodles.

He started off with olive oil in a pan, followed by onions, mushrooms, garlic, basil, chicken broth and cornstarch. Once it was simmering, he added cream cheese, stirring slowly as it melted, releasing mouthwatering aromas.

“That smells heavenly. Is it going to be ready soon?”

“Nope. Got to layer it together and put it in the oven. You’re going to have to pull that patience out again.”

“Well, hurry it up.”

Jammer added sour cream, artichokes and crab meat into the pan, seasoning with salt and pepper. Next, he spread some of the mixture along each lasagna noodle, rolled it up and set it in a shallow casserole. When the
dish was full, he covered it with foil and popped it into the oven, setting the timer.

“Let’s go outside until it’s done. Enjoy the night,” he said as he opened the French doors and stepped out. The patio was tiered, gently sloping down to a sparkling turquoise pool. He walked to the second tier and settled into a chaise longue and pulled Gina into his lap. She curled against him, snuggling her head under his chin.

“So where did you learn to cook?” she asked.

“My mother taught me.” He lifted a hand and stroked it over her hair. His heart constricted at the thought of his mother.

“Oh,” Gina said, a cautious tone to her voice.

She knew as well as he that they were getting into personal territory, and he wasn’t sure that they should.

“Are they still alive?”

“No, they aren’t. It’s better that they’re not,” he said, then regretted the words.

“Because of what you do for a living?”

He shrugged, as if it was unimportant, when it was far from that. “Yeah,” he answered, but that wasn’t the truth at all. It had to do with the pain and agony they would have had to endure, knowing they had lost their only son. He wouldn’t have been able to participate in this plan to take down Fuentes if they had lived.

“Any luck with your contacts?” he asked, effectively changing the painful subject.

“Yes, I think so. I’m waiting for a couple of calls. A guy in Rome who I think will have some of what you need—namely the surface-to-air missiles—and I have
a guy in London who should be able to deliver on the other required items.”

“Excellent. Fuentes will be calling tomorrow for an update on his order. It’d be good to be able to tell him we’re moving forward.”

“What is he like?”

“Fuentes? A freaking little girl in a grown man’s body. When he doesn’t get his way, he has these tantrums that are ridiculous to watch. How he ever built an empire is a mystery to me.”

“Do you think there will be a possibility of more deals once you’ve supplied what he’s asking for?”

Not if Jammer had any say in the matter. But he had a role to play here and he knew how to play it well. “Of course. Drug dealers always need weapons for the movement of their product. It’s a fact of life.”

“Will the Ghost be at the meeting with Fuentes?”

“Yes, he’s going to make a rare appearance. Fuentes wants the transfer to happen in person. So my boss is committed.” The Ghost would be there, all right, but Fuentes wasn’t going to see it coming, and that gave Jammer great satisfaction.

“How about you let me go all the way on this deal? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Gina, Fuentes is an animal and I don’t trust him at all. I think it would be best if you stayed out of it.”

“Jammer, come on. I could make some really good contacts and boost my business. You wouldn’t deny me that, would you? Look at all the help I’m giving you. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been able to fill Fuentes’s order.”

“That is true. I would have been royally fucked.”

“Right, and not in a good way.”