Fighting (42 page)

"Maybe
you shouldn't get me worked up before leaving to see another man," I said,
already breathless.  He looked unrepentant and my mouth dropped open. 
"You did this on purpose!" I accused him.

For
some reason, seeing that it was
that
that he was worried about, and not
that I might royally fuck everything up, set me at ease. 

He
moved his hands to my hips.  "Ethan, you don't have to remind me how much
I want you, okay?  That's something I can't forget.  So
you
relax."

He
let me go and turned his back to me as he paced closer to the bed.  "I
can't help it.  This guy sets me on edge and not just because he's power hungry
and used to getting what he wants," he said.  "And he wants
you."

He
sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands over his face repeatedly. 
The sheer curtains in front of the open double windows blew into the room from
the light wind of the storm and the smell of rain filled the room. 

"Ethan,"
I said softly, searching for words to comfort him.

He
shook his head in frustration and looked up at me like he was about to give me
bad news that I wouldn't like.  "You're mine," he said fiercely.  I
felt a spark of electricity skitter through my body.  "And I know you're
not a prize or part of a game, but that doesn't mean you don't belong to me,
with me," he said firmly, like he was trying to convince both of us just
as much as Fletcher.  The muscle in his jaw ticked angrily and his hands were
fisted. 

Rain
began bouncing off of the windowsill as I furrowed my brow and walked over to
him.  He automatically reached out and pulled me to him by my hips.  My hands
landed on his shoulders and he looked ready to defend himself because he knew
I'd want to argue about my independence.

I
relaxed my expression and dipped my mouth to hover over his.  "Say it
again," I murmured.

He
looked conflicted between being surprised and mystified but when I slowly
straddled his hips and ran my nose along his, it clicked into place for him. 
He pushed his fingers under my bra strap right at the clasp.

"You're
mine," he rumbled softly.

"Yes,"
I whispered against his lips.

I
wrapped my arms around his neck loosely and kissed him, making sure to keep it
slow and sultry so he would know that it wasn't just an admission that slipped
out accidently in the heat of the moment.  That it was a conscious choice I
made to openly admit that he had me, that I
did
belong with him.

I
pulled my lips back but he chased me eagerly, so we were still kissing.  I
grinned against his lips and framed his face with my hands to hold him steady
while I successfully detached from him. 

"This
is the modern world, though," I said.  "That means you're just as
much mine."

His
gaze sharpened and he fell back to the bed and pulled me with him, so that I
was on lying top of him and my hair cascaded around our faces in curtains.  His
hands skimmed over my back and down to my ass. 

His
hands pulsed as he said darkly, "No doubt, baby."

I
felt him hard against me in just the right spot and my breathing hitched.  I
ran my lips along the sharp line of his jaw from his ear to his chin and
finally up to his lips, controlling our lazy pace.  Without forethought, I
flexed my hips to rock against him gently, grinding our bodies together and
creating friction between us that he definitely noticed and I didn't regret. 
He made a growly sound and his hands that were still on my ass did the work for
me, pushing and pulling.  My jeans weren't all that thick and he was straining
against his jeans, so it was a very memorable time for this to be the first
time I felt him.  And I was
really
feeling him. 

We
negotiated control as I paced our kiss and he slowly rocked our bodies
together.  He flexed his hips so that his erection thrust against me more
aggressively as he drove my hips down against him, which I liked enough that it
made me gasp into his mouth, which
he
liked enough to bite my lip.

Our
kiss deepened and I used one hand to hold myself up and the other to shove his
shirt up under his neck.  I ran my hand down his chest and along his ribs and
abs but stopped right on the button of his jeans.  I curled my fingers around
the waistband and pulled it away from his skin.  He felt it and pushed my face
away from his and looked at me with hungry eyes.

I
flicked my eyes to his lips and then looked down at my hand that was still
curled around his jeans.  I popped open the button and looked back up to search
his face.  His gaze scorched me as he ran his hands through my hair and held my
curls against my head so that he could see my face clearly, letting me take
control.  His lips parted and my heartbeat accelerated with anticipation as my
fingers brushed against him gently through his jeans and I tugged on his
zipper.  I barely moved it at all before someone knocked on the door.  I closed
my eyes and rolled over to fall heavily to the bed beside of him.  We both
scowled at the ceiling. 

"What?"
I yelled out in despair.

"You
need to get going," Brooks said through the door.

I
sat up straight and said, "I'll be out in a second."

"Ethan,
too," Brooks said knowingly.

"Oh,
go away," I snapped loud enough for him to hear.

He
chuckled and walked away.  Ethan reclaimed my attention by skimming his hand
down my spine from my neck down to my jeans.  I ran my eyes over him from his
head to his bent knees.  He was still lying flat on his back with his jeans
partially undone and his shirt crumpled over his collar bone.  He was looking
up at me in such a way that made me want to lick him from head to toe.  Damn,
that was a sexy look.

I
fought the impulse to finish what I started, ignored my hammering pulse and
spiking libido and said dismally, "We need to leave."
 But I
really don't want to
was implied.

He
gave me the ghost of a smirk.  "We have a minute," he said. 

He
fixed his shirt and pulled me back down to him but instead of picking up where
we left off, he tucked me into his side and pressed my face against his
shoulder.  We wrapped around each other and breathed each other in while he ran
his hands up and down my back soothingly, selflessly.  Just the fact that he
knew I needed
this
just as much as I needed him was another reason why I
chose him. 

A
few silent minutes later, his arm pulsed around me and we lumbered to our
feet.  He pulled a black shirt out of our bag.  "Raise your arms," he
ordered.

I
raised them and he fit my arms and head through the openings and pulled it down
over my torso, skimming his hands over my chest and around to the small of my
back. 

"Because
you let me," he said, even though I didn't ask why he did it.

I
wrapped my arms around his waist as he pulled my hair free from my shirt and
fanned it out across my shoulders.

"No
worries," I assured him, trying to alleviate his unease.

"No
worries," he agreed, trying to alleviate mine. 

Ethan
was in position at the bar of the restaurant and I watched from across the
street as Fletcher and his bodyguard entered the restaurant.  It was a fancy
high-rise building and our meeting place was on the fourteenth floor.  I
glanced at the clock and saw that it was only six o'clock.  I waited
impatiently with Spencer as Ethan kept up a play by play of what Fletcher was
doing. 

At
seven o'clock exactly, I left the coffee shop we were hiding in and rode up to
the fourteenth floor.  "I'm on the elevator," I reported.

"Get
it done, do it right," Brooks said through my ear bud.

I
spotted Fletcher almost immediately and before he noticed me, I searched the
crowded bar for Ethan.  He already had his eyes on me and winked as soon as we
made eye contact.  I smirked at him and then emptied my expression and
approached Fletcher.

He
was dressed in another suit and tie, as cultured and distinguished as the first
time we met.  He was waiting at the bar, informally snacking on bar nuts
despite his formal attire.  I walked right up to him and put a palm to the bar,
eliciting a pleased smile from him when he glanced over to me.

"Lucy. 
How lovely to see you again," he said pleasantly.  He stood up and
straightened his suit jacket.  "Except your name isn't Lucy, now is it?"
he mildly admonished me, like he was disappointed.

"No."

He
stared at me politely, waiting for an introduction.  A small smile tugged at
his lips.  "You're not going to give me your name?" he asked.

I
stared at him blankly and said instead, "Let's get this over with."

He
motioned to his bodyguard and the goon walked over to me. 

"Gary?"
I asked, mildly surprised.  "Is that you?"

Gary
scowled at me in annoyance but said, "In the flesh.  Spread your
arms."

I
did and he stood behind me to run his hands over my body for a quick weapons
check.  Ethan hummed menacingly in my ear bud but almost immediately caught
himself and muttered, "Sorry."

"You
get Gary but I had to come alone?" I asked.

"The
one in power controls the situation," Fletcher said sagely.  "I
wanted to speak with you alone, but didn't necessarily trust that you were
unarmed.  You know how these things go," he said, waving a hand through
the air casually.

Once
Gary was satisfied that I was unarmed, I looked at him speculatively.  "No
hard feelings, eh Gare Bear?"  I glanced at his leg that he was slightly
limping on.  "After all, we
did
think you were there to kill
us."

"You
know that Gary is not my real name," he said.

I
tilted my head at him.  "You'll forever be Gary in our hearts," I
said sweetly.

He
grinned slightly, thinking I was flirting with him.  Gary apparently wasn't the
sharpest tool in the shed.  If I were Fletcher, I'd have picked my bodyguards
more carefully.  That's the thing about goons, though.  It's tricky.  You want
someone who's smart and fast enough to protect you in a bind, but not quite
smart enough to overthrow your power and take over your operation.

I
reconsidered Gary and figured he was a suitable choice.

Fletcher
cleared his throat and put his hand on my back.  "Shall we?" he
asked.  He looked between us and our easy rapport and seemed displeased and,
dare I say,
jealous
?

My
skin crawled where he touched my back, so I turned on my heel and walked by the
hostess without so much as a glance, and right to a table that was pushed
against the wall sideways, so that both of us could comfortably keep the room
at large in our peripheral vision.  We sat across from each other and Gary hung
back against the wall behind Fletcher. 

A
waitress appeared with menus.  "Would you like to hear the specials?"
she asked.

"Yes,
thank you," Fletcher said politely.

She
glanced between us as she opened her mouth to speak, but froze when I shook my
head at her.  "Beat it," I said in a flat, uninterested voice.

She
looked confused, so I jerked my head subtly, motioning for her to leave. 

She
shrugged.  "I'll come back in a minute." 

I
focused on Fletcher and reclined in my chair with a casual air in open contempt
of his self-importance.  I rested my arms on the table in front of me and
waited patiently.

He
eyed my slight slouch disapprovingly, which was simply a bonus, and said,
"I suppose since you won't give me your name, I'll just have to call you
Lucy."  I didn't respond, and he tilted his head at me curiously, sliding
a sly glance over the part of my body that he could see above the table. 
"You look different from when I saw you last."

"You
didn't think I'd show up in a ball gown, now did you?" I asked.

"Of
course not.  You're still beautiful.  I just meant you seemed so regal
then."  He looked around the restaurant.  "Where's your arm
candy?"

"James? 
At home, slaving over the hot stove so that supper is ready and waiting on the
table for me when I get home from a hard day's work," I said breezily.

"So
you're still with him, then?" he deduced.

Don't flaunt, don't flaunt, don't flaunt
, I
chanted to myself.  "Yes."

His
mouth puckered just the slightest bit in distaste and I knew Ethan was right
about him wanting me.

"Why
settle for anything less than the best?  You could exceed even
my
skills
if you chose to be with brain instead of brawn."

I
inched forward to grab a bread roll from the basket between us and said,
"This has been fun.  Let's not do it again sometime." 

I
flattened my hand on the table and made to stand but he put a hand on mine to
stop me so that I hovered over my seat.

"We're
not through," he said sharply.

I
deliberately slowed my movement as I removed his hand from mine.  "We are
if all we're going to talk about is James' supposed incompetency," I said
with a tinge of bitterness, incapable of not defending Ethan on even the most
basic of levels.

It
was the first hint of emotion I'd shown toward him and he looked triumphant at
having broken through my apathy.  He gestured for me to sit down and I did but
negotiated by unraveling my napkin-wrapped tableware and picking up the knife
to butter my bread roll.  He assessed the knife and then me as our waitress
approached again.

"Do
you know what you want to order?" she asked.

I
gestured to the glasses of water already on our table.  "Water is fine for
me," I said.

"And
to eat?"

"Nothing,
I'm not staying long," I said.

Fletcher
tsk'd
his tongue at me.  "She'll have a salad."

"I
won't eat it," I warned him. 

"You
might change your mind," he said meaningfully.  He looked back to the
waitress and smiled.  "And I'll have the steak, medium rare.  Thank
you."

She
beamed at him, tucked her hair behind her ear and tilted her head at him, no
doubt finding him handsome, because he was, and charming, because he was a
slimy asshole who knew how to manipulate people. 

She
glanced at me and found me glaring at her with impatience.  I wanted her to
leave so that
I
could leave sooner, but she thought I was mad that she
was flirting with my date.  I wanted to tell her she could fuck him if she
wanted but then I figured I was doing her a favor by discouraging her, so I
didn't correct her assumption.  Her smile dissolved and something in my
expression made her take a small step back.  She busied herself with collecting
our menus and scurrying away.

Smug
son of a bitch ordered food for me?  I didn't think it was possible to hate him
any more than I already did, but then he ordered me a salad like he knew what
was good for me.  I wanted him to choke on his medium rare steak while I
watched.

Dude
really brought out my violent side. 

"I
didn't realize you were quite so volatile," he mused.

I
hummed my voice at him vaguely.

"It's
cute." 

I
rolled my eyes.  I was
not
cute. 

"Before
we continue, you're going to have to do something for me," he said.

"What?"
I humored him.

He
tapped his ear twice.  "I'd prefer us to speak in confidence."

Damn it.

"What
do you mean?" I asked.

He
furrowed his brow in moderate annoyance.  "The ear bud, Lucy.  Give it to
me."

I
hesitated, but then figured if I didn't give it to him, he would either shoot
me or command Gary to simply take it from me by force.  I sized Gary up and
knew I could take him, but someone would definitely end up getting shot and
there were civilians all around us, which was the point of our location. 
Safety all around.  I reminded myself that Ethan could at least still see us
and removed the ear bud and placed it on the table in front of me.  He picked
it up and examined it curiously and I took the opportunity to flick my eyes
toward Ethan and subtly shake my head, signaling for him to hold his position
at the bar.

Fletcher
held the ear bud close to his mouth and said, "My apologies, fellas. 
Private conversation."  He dropped it into his glass of water and after he
was satisfied that it was no longer functional, refocused on me.  "I'm
sure you're wondering why I wanted to speak with
you
,
specifically," he said.

"You
want to fuck me," I said indifferently.

His
eyes flashed and he glanced around us to see if anyone overheard me.  I zeroed
in on that and ran with it.  He was an elitist, among other things, and his
class condemned crass so I didn't hold my tongue.  I figured he had this
immortalized image of me in his mind as a sophisticated lady in a ball gown,
but that wasn't the real me, so I crushed that girl and hoped he would dismiss
me altogether.

He
noticeably did not contradict my last statement.

"When
did you make plans to attack the compound?" I asked while his attention was
diverted.

He
straightened his tie.  "Two days after you stole the statue from
Vasquez."

"I
don't know what you're talking about," I feigned.  "Vasquez had that
statue locked in a room protected by an alarm.  It'd be impossible to have
taken it."

"It
was possible."  I shook my head at him in pity and he narrowed his eyes
briefly.  "I know it was possible, because
I
did it.  But what I
took was a mediocre replica.  I knew as soon as I had it in my hands that
someone else had taken the original, and you were the last person I saw in the
hallway.  By the time I tried to find you at the party, you were leaving in the
same car as Brooks."

"Coincidences,"
I insisted.

"You're
lying."

"No
reason to lie," I said carelessly.  "How did your men find the
compound?"

"Brooks
was at that party and I knew he was behind the theft, even if it was you who
did his dirty work.  I had a mutual contact of ours seek him out for a meeting,
and one of my men put a tracking device on his car.  They waited outside of the
cabin until your security technician left for the evening."

"Not
too bright.  They tripped the alarm anyway."

"The
twelve year old is resourceful."

"Yes. 
He is," I said proudly.  "Where did you find the men?"

"They're
mine.  I have them on retainer."  He studied me for a moment, then arched
an eyebrow and smirked.  "You put a few men out of work permanently,"
he said.  There was a twinkle in his eye, like he could see me naked without my
knowing.

"Yes." 
Without looking away, I casually slid my finger along the side of the blade of
my table knife.  "Love a good challenge."

I
swear I saw his pupils constrict as he leaned closer to me and adopted a small,
wicked smile.  Well, that backfired in my face.  I was shooting for
threatening, not sexy.

"Ask
me.  I know you want to," he said.

I
frowned at him but relented.  "What do you want?"

He
leaned back and smiled in satisfaction.  "I want you to work for me."

What the fuck?
  As surprised as I was, I hid
it well and narrowed my eyes on his.

"
For
you?" I asked disdainfully.

"With
me," he hastily amended.

I
held my silence, which he took to mean that I was considering it. 

"Your
people aren't listening, so you aren't obligated to jump to refuse me right
away.  Think of the possibilities.  Much grander schemes, greater profit,
bigger opportunities."  He ran his index finger down the back of my hand
lightly.  "The possibilities," he whispered, turning his charm to max
power.