Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) (17 page)

“Oh,
please
. Don’t turn this into some kind of feminist bullshit.”

“Feminist
bullshit
?” She fought to get free of his hands. “How dare you.”

“How dare I what? Give a shit? Want to keep you safe?”

Whack!
She slapped him. Just like that. One second she was struggling to get free of him and the next, because he said he cared for her, she nailed him.

He deserved the slap. He’d invaded more than her personal space. He’d manhandled her, and invaded her heart as well.

Walk away. Cool off. Give her some space.

Releasing her arms, he stepped back. He was out of bounds on all counts. “I’m sorry.”

Give yourself some space.

He started to walk away and got as far as the table when Sydney tackled him. She locked onto his suit jacket and jerked him backwards. “Oh, no, you don’t get to walk out in the middle of a fight. I don’t do passive-aggressive, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Passive aggressive? He’d show her passive aggressive. Facing her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her up against his chest. Before she could say a word—God, she was a talker—he bent down and kissed her. Hard.

Her pinched lips softened under his. He lifted her off the floor, placed his other hand behind her neck and bent her backwards, continuing to kiss her as he held her in his arms.

He waited for her to kick him in the nuts. When she didn’t, he slid his hand from her waist to the small of her back, massaging the tense knot there. She moaned into his mouth, grabbed hold of his shirt collar and pressed her breasts against his chest.

The tightness in his throat released. He breathed deep, drawing Sydney’s perfume into his lungs.

The kitchen table was right there, waiting for him to lay her down and possess her. But no one possessed Sydney Banfield. All he could hope for was a peek into her soul. For a chance to show her how much he wanted her. How much he appreciated her. To show her why he worried about her.

It wasn’t enough to fix the problems between them. In fact, it would complicate things further. Logic dictated he break off the kiss and set her down.

But her hands were inside his shirt now and apparently frustrated with the limited access they had, she fisted her hands in the fabric and pulled. Buttons flew. Sydney laughed.

Table, here we come.

Shifting both of them around, he sat her on the table and shoved a half-empty box of cupcakes to the side. He almost knocked them to the floor, but she said, “Don’t waste those, Fed Boy,” as she jerked his jacket down his arms.

The jacket dropped to the floor. “Or what, Sydney? You’ll shoot me with your girly gun?”

Her eyes danced, fueled by his challenge. She clasped the back of his neck and brought his mouth to hers. Their teeth banged together but she laughed again and kissed him thoroughly, both of them breathing hard when she broke it off. “Don’t make fun of my gun or you’ll be sorry.”

Gripping her thighs, he pushed her legs apart with his own. Her dress was tight and she couldn’t accommodate him the way they both wanted.

Until the fabric ripped.

Her legs spread wide, making room for him as he shoved his hips forward seeking the sweet spot he longed for. The dress ripped a little more, but instead of freaking out, Sydney grabbed his ass cheeks and slammed him home.

Sweet Jesus.

Their eyes locked and he couldn’t resist goading her. He lifted the lid of the box, grabbed a cupcake, and tossed it over his shoulder. “Idle threats.”

She narrowed her eyes, undid his belt buckle, and ripped the leather belt out of the loops. “Reach for another cupcake.” The belt made a soft snick as she smacked it against the tabletop. “Go ahead. Just try it.”

“I don’t need a cupcake,” he said, sliding a hand inside her dress’s top and cupping the soft flesh cocooned there.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she arched into his hand, the expression on her face priceless. Heat, lust, desire. Her hair was mussed and her lips were swollen from their kissing. When she spoke, her voice was soft and sexy. “What
do
you need, Fed Boy?”

Her. He needed her.

And the condom in his wallet.

But he was past talking. Need burned in his veins and his erection pushed painfully at his zipper. Sydney shoved off his shirt and went after that zipper, and although he’d planned to take their first time slow and easy, she had a different idea.

Dog on a bone.

A minute later, they were both naked, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. She guided his fingers into another place to create additional friction, the table squeaking on its legs and slamming into the wall over and over again as the rhythm they created built to a frenzy.

Her first orgasm came fast and hard and she called out his name, her fingers digging deep into his flesh. He held her through it, checking his body’s reaction, and trailing kisses over her jaw and down her neck as she pulsed around him and then drifted in weightless abandon.

Before he knew it, she wiggled her hips against him again. Captured his mouth for one of those soul-sucking kisses. He started a slow, teasing motion, pushing forward and drawing back, enjoying the tightness he encountered, but Sydney didn’t want to go slow. In another burst of motion, she grabbed his ass cheeks and took over their pace.

Her second orgasm came a few seconds later, taking him over the edge with her. He let go of everything—his anger, his frustration, that god-awful guilt that ate him alive every day—and just let himself disappear in Sydney-induced ecstasy.

In the aftermath, the two of them lay across the table breathing hard, limbs entangled, and the cupcake box perched precariously on the edge. His body in a happy fog of sexual release, he grabbed a cupcake and showed it to Syd. “Guess you won’t have to shoot me now.”

She smiled lazily but her eyes were filled with mischief. “Don’t count on it.”

“Oh, yeah?” He peeled off the paper, offered her a bite. “I can think of some pretty interesting ways to waste some cupcakes if it makes you act like this again.”

She laughed a full-belly laugh, jiggling him with it. “I can think of some pretty interesting ways
not
to waste those cupcakes and still have this kind of fun.”

He nibbled her lip where frosting was stuck to it. “Show me.”

Her eyes flashed at the challenge. “You’re on.”

And
sweet Jesus on a stick
, she loved a challenge as much as he did. An hour later, the cupcakes had been put to good use and Grey knew he’d never find another woman like the one using angry sex as a weapon and licking frosting off of him on her kitchen floor.

Chapter Fourteen

After her weekly visit with her mother and that bitch-on-wheels Number Seven, Syd stepped through her front door and found Fed Boy sitting comfortably on the sofa.

Again.

Was nothing in her control anymore? Not even her own space? Still, the man was a sight for sore eyes. She glanced at the bakery box sitting on her battered coffee table. Hopefully he’d brought extra they could make use of while she took her frustrations out on him in a purely carnal way.

“Hey, fella. You need to stop breaking into my house.”

He smiled, all white teeth and the sexy stubble on his unshaven face.
Oh, baby
. She wandered to him and pointed to the box. “What did you bring me?”

“It’s a surprise. Figured you could use them after your visit to the hospital.”

This man might be perfect.
In a psychotic sort of way.

He sat with his hands resting at his sides so she straddled him and rolled her hips into him. “Are they for eating? Or licking?”

He looked down at her hips. “Uh...”

How she loved to rattle him. Such easy prey. As irritating as he was, he was also sweet and generous and someone she knew,
knew
, would watch her back—among other things—when needed. When she decided this, she wasn’t quite sure, but after that monster fight last night, he’d proven he didn’t scare off easily. Whether that was a good thing for the lockdown she’d put on her emotions, she didn’t know. What she did know was she liked being with him. Even when he drove her crazy.

And she liked screwing his brains out.

A double win.

For all involved.

While rolling her hips, she slid her hand under his golf shirt and twirled her fingers into the soft line of chest hair. “You’re casual today. I like when you’re casual.”

He set his hands on her hips to still them. “Talk to me, Syd.”

Forget the hips. She’d nibble around his jaw. He’d cave. Men always did. “Conversation is not what I’m looking for right now.”

“I can see that.”

And yet, he remained immobile. Could he help a girl out here?

More nibbling and he finally tilted his head back giving her better access. “Atta, boy.”

“I won’t deny I’m enjoying this. But using me for angry sex to deal with your issues about your mother is not gonna happen.”

Perceptive man. What did she care? She just needed to feel good, to relieve the pressure stacked inside her like a hundred cement blocks, and Grey had proved—several times—he could make that happen. She laughed and licked him behind the ear. “We’ll see.”

In a flash of movement he’d flipped her onto her back and pressed his body—erection and all—into her. “Now we’re talking, Fed Boy.”

But no. He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head. “Are you going to talk to me?”

“I’ll talk. Just not the way you’re thinking.”

When she rolled her hips, he pressed his body further into hers. “I want you to stop. Please.”

Damn him. What the hell did he want? Did he want her to blubber about how Number Seven called her a slut again? How her mother’s sweet voice turned into something vicious and mean and Syd had to sit there week after week and listen to the band of crazies tell her all the things she didn’t want to hear? And well, hell, after the icing licking that went on in the kitchen last night, maybe Number Seven was right. Maybe Sydney was nothing but a whore who would spend her entire life thinking sex made one hell of a great diversion.

“Fed Boy, sometimes a girl just needs to get fucked. Are you up for it or not?”

His dark eyes sparked. “
Sometimes,
I’d imagine that’s true. Right now, the last thing you need is to get
fucked
. Which, by the way, I think I’ve proven I can be
up
for.”

“How the hell do you know what I need?” She pushed against his weight to lever herself up. Too heavy. “Let me up.”

He squeezed her wrists tighter. “Will you behave?”

Damn him. “I don’t like bullies. And as much as I enjoyed those multiple orgasms last night, right now I’m mad enough to happily put you out of commission for a few days. Let. Me. Up.”

Still holding her wrists, he boosted himself to his knees, sat back on his haunches and pulled her into his chest. He wrapped her in his arms and held her there as he ran one hand up and down her back.

She rolled her eyes. Coddling? Really? “I’m not an infant.”

“Never said you were. We all need to be held occasionally, Syd. Suck it up. Maybe stop fighting for one damned minute and enjoy it before my patience runs out.”

“Hey!”

“Admit you’re upset after your visit with your mom. Who could blame you? Why do you think I came here and waited? With cupcakes. You’ve gotten used to being alone. That’s a shitty deal. You don’t have to be alone. And that doesn’t mean angry sex either. You wanna bang the hell out of me after you get rid of the crap floating inside your head, great, fine, all for it, babe. But you won’t use me.” He backed away and grinned. “Not without my permission.”

She laughed. Couldn’t help it. “Do your parents know what an ass you are? I mean, they have to know, right?”

The amused mischief left his eyes. Just deadened him. From somewhere down deep she knew she’d hit a nerve. A big one. One that he wasn’t ready to talk about. She did them both a favor and leaned into him. Let him hold her close as she curled her arms around his waist.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad, this not-angry-sex way of dealing with her turmoil. For years, she’d refused to share her secrets about her mother, much less have a psych session about her feelings. So, when she had a man in her life, which wasn’t all that often, she’d become dependent on sex to provide intimacy that, in reality, wasn’t intimacy at all. It was simply a way to connect on some level without having to admit she was an emotional garbage dump.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You bet. Just remember later that you want to bang me. Okay? Still a guy here.”

“You’re a guy all right. I hope you bought extra cupcakes.”

“I did indeed. This is becoming an expensive habit. If we continue using them for sex toys, I’ll go broke.”

“You make me laugh, Fed Boy. Good for you.”

He kissed the top of her head and leaned back to face her. “I understand you, Syd. I don’t know what that says about us and our demons, but we’ll figure it out.”

Point there.

“What are you doing this afternoon?”

“I’m taking a nap. Why?”

“Screw the nap. Time for reconnaissance. Thought you’d want to help me follow The Lion around. See what that asshole does with his spare time.”

Could he have come up with a more unappealing offer? Truly? Bad enough she’d spent two evenings dealing with the stress of this mission. Now she’d spend her Saturday, after a visit with Number Seven, no less, doing it?

Spending quiet time with Grey wouldn’t be the worst thing though. He had a way about him. A strength that brought peace to her mind and the harsh realities that had been prisoner there for so long.

“Can I bring the cupcakes? I haven’t had lunch.”

He leaned forward and dropped a soft, lingering kiss on her. Oh, this guy. Destroyer of hearts. “Of course. I’ll even buy you a sandwich.”

Funny how things came full circle. There he was sitting in the Challenger in front of a row of Georgetown brownstones with his binoculars and his camera watching and waiting for The Lion to make a move.