Taken by Surprise (9 page)

He tormented the pulsing bud until it swelled, circling and nipping with his tongue and teeth. Her head fell back on her shoulders as the sensations raced through her system. Acute pleasure, intense wonder, wicked need combined to form a precipice that defied reality. Then he licked further down, drawing her closer as he speared his tongue through the drenched folds of her intimate flesh. Her thoughts centered on a single word that left her on a gasp of wondrous pleasure.

"Michael!"

This was Michael bringing her to places she never before visited. This was Michael, who drank from her like a man stranded in the wasteland. This was Michael, who she'd wanted for so very long her mind attempted to convince her that she must be dreaming, because no way could this be happening.

His tongue probed her sodden entrance, delving inside to lick the inner walls of her channel, before retreating to find her clit once more. Her channel throbbed, weeping from the abandonment. Only the replacement of not one, but two fingers prevented her protesting cry from leaving her.

"I can't stand it." Claws of ecstasy pierced her insides, climbing the torturous path from her pussy to her head. She had never experienced a want for a man that hurt so desperately and in such a pleasurable way. She had never needed a man the way she did Michael.

"Neither can I," he growled against her clit, the sound animalistic, giving evidence of his own tormenting need. "Feel it, Rhonda. Feel the way your hot pussy stretches around my fingers." He wiggled his fingers in her channel, stroking and stretching her further, filling her deeper. "Feel the way your clit jumps when I rake my tongue over the swollen bud." He danced his tongue over her clit, lapping and flicking it until her hips bucked in his hold. "Feel it, Rhonda," he said again. "Feel me."

She did, absorbing every sensation, every stroke and lick until she whimpered from the extreme pleasure. His touch invaded her soul, canceling out all thoughts of right and wrong, of safety and preservation.

"Don't stop." Her fingers gripped his hair in desperation, holding him as he brought her closer to the edge.

"You taste good, so hot and sweet." His voice took on the timbre of the savage animal she felt feasting on her pussy. "I need to taste you. Give yourself to me, Rhonda. Let me taste all of you."

His fingers and tongue went wild on her pussy, probing and licking until she couldn't anticipate which sensation she would feel next or where. He flicked her clit, thrust into her channel, licked away the pleasured edge of pain, and filled her to bursting. Her mind blurred on the rapid successions of riotous delight.

"That's it, baby. Come for me."

The orgasm tore through her in a violent rush of liquid flames. Her body jerked. Her knees wobbled. If not for his strong hold on her as he held her still, as he drank her dry, she would have crumpled. The sounds that left her couldn't be defined. The feelings that controlled her couldn't be stopped. She dissolved in a world of ecstasy she knew she would never occupy with anyone but Michael, and deliberately readied herself for the battle ahead.

Chapter Five

Silver Springs, Mississippi

"Have you ever been dominated by a woman?"

Jackson slid Tess Gerard a noncommittal look, studied her side profile. She drove like a man, all cool confidence and control with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift of her Ferrari HY-KERS. The woman oozed elegance and sex from her stylish clothes to her experimental hybrid car, leaving no doubt to her sensuality or the size of her pocketbook despite the Silver Springs Police Department badge she proudly wore.

She glanced at him when he didn't answer. One perfectly plucked chestnut brow arched in question over her cool green eye. She had been baiting him from the moment they met more than two years ago, attempting to wrinkle his collar with a lust appeal that made his dick rock solid. Not that he ever gave her the slightest indication of the effect she had on him. In truth, she reminded him so much of Mallory in so many ways that he found himself wanting to throw her over the hood of the car and fuck her until she screamed.

Jackson suppressed the urge to shift in the passenger seat, dealing with the pressure in his cock rather than giving in to the search for relief. He bit back a grin as he turned his attention to the front windshield. Mallory called him stuffy and uptight. She would be in for a hell of a surprise if she could read his mind.

"No," he finally replied slowly. "I can't say I've ever let a woman control me. I'm surprised you would offer, Tess. Word has it you prefer your bedroom escapades to be the other way around."

It didn't take him long to learn how to counter Tess's open advances and fire a bit of ammunition of his own. Recently married to Hollywood movie star Devon Gerard, Jackson knew his sister-in-law's sister didn't really want to play games with him, at least not sex games. That apparently didn't stop the teasing.

Tess threw her head back and laughed. "I do, and my man makes sure to keep me very obedient and satisfied."

Jackson shook his head, unable to hide a chuckle. "You, obedient? I never would've pegged you for the submissive."

"You didn't peg me for a cop when we met either, did you?"

No, he had been just a few steps away from showing her what it felt like to wear the cuffs rather than carry them. He'd been half convinced she was the arsonist mind behind the attacks at the family-owned Keaton Aire. If someone had told him then he would be working a case with her now, he would've laughed in his face.

She picked him up after his thirty-minute flight into Keaton Aire. Now, he sat in the passenger seat of her car as she cruised through the last dregs of Silver Springs's rush hour traffic headed toward the local DEA headquarters.

"It doesn't bother you, your life being so public?" Jackson heard himself ask. "
Everything
about your life." As one of the daughters of the most prominent family in Silver Springs, many aspects of her life had managed to become public before she married a celebrity.

Tess shrugged. "I'm still not quite sure how that bit of information got out about Devon and me. It's not like we walked up to the first reporter we saw at the wedding and bared all about the BDSM lifestyle we enjoy behind closed doors. We even checked behind those doors for hidden cameras!"

"In the bedroom," Jackson said, tongue in cheek. "Did you do a sweep through the hall, the kitchen, living room, closets…?"

The grin that unfolded on Tess's lips sparkled with a wicked mischief. "You're not as dull as you lead people to believe, are you?"

"I'm an FBI agent. Just because I have the whole, what do you always call it, MIB look going on, doesn't mean I'm so focused on the job that I don't understand fetishes."

Tess pursed her lips as she took a corner a little too sharply. "And do you share a liking for any of those fetishes?"

"Fishing again? Looking for a threesome to add another level of spark in that camera-free bedroom?" The instant the question left his lips, he knew he made a mistake. The devilish, little giggle she made confirmed the can of worms he opened.

"According to my sister and your brother, you're just the man to invite to the party."

Yeah, he figured Tess would know about the night he'd spent with his twin brother, Jason, and Tess's sister, Angelina. A misunderstanding and mistaken identity had put him in Angelina's path. A secret fantasy of his own coupled with an encouraging shove by Mallory before he left Waterston more than two years ago had put him flat on his back in his brother's bed with Angelina sandwiched between himself and Jason. Jackson walked away the next morning without an ounce of pain or regret and found himself itching to play again.

Not with Angelina or even Tess.

With Mallory.

God help me
.

"Devon and I have discussed it," Tess said seriously. "He's always looking for ways to, shall we say, keep that spark in the camera-free bedroom. It's incredible, really, having a man so focused on what makes me feel good, getting his own pleasure out of bringing me satisfaction."

"Why did you fight it?" More than the details of her intimate relationship with her husband had hit the newsstands shortly after they tied the knot. Stories of the couple's plight, Devon's acting career plummeting to an all-time low, Tess's abandonment of him and her aspirations to be the next Jennifer Aniston made headlines and juicy cover articles for the gossip rags.

"Call me stupid." She flashed him a quick grin. "It might be the only time I'll give you the chance and not knock you on your ass."

Jackson didn't doubt she probably could. Tess might be shorter, slimmer, and weaker, but smarts and skill often outweighed brute strength. He learned that in the academy. Mallory had reiterated it once when he made the mistake of pissing her off. She took him down, knocked him flat on his back, and gained the upper hand before he could blink. He forgot what sent her into a physical rage. He didn't forget the lesson any more than he could push away the memory of her long stems scissoring his waist as she stood over him, weapon drawn.

It had taken every ounce of control he possessed, and some he didn't know he had, to keep himself from sitting up enough to bury his face in the apex of her spread thighs. He remembered the heat flaring in her eyes, the way her nipples peaked to beckoning points against her crisp button-down blouse. He'd wondered if the combination of obvious anger and adrenaline made her pussy wet?

Tess's sigh drew him out of his thoughts.

"I fought because the idea of giving in scared the daylights out of me. I'm not submissive, at least not in everyday life. I'm in control. I say what happens to me and when. I say what I do and how I do it." She shook her head, started to slow for a stale yellow, then punched the gas when she apparently gauged the distance too short to stop before the light turned red. "Letting someone else do all of that, giving them that control over me, relinquishing myself to my desires, it was hard for me. It still is sometimes." She clucked her tongue. "I'm betting it would be for you, too."

"I don't have any desires to hand over control to anyone." He could, though. If it meant winning Mallory's heart, seeing the light of love in her eyes, knowing he brought her insurmountable pleasure, he would give her every ounce of control over him and then some.

"I hope you're good at pretending you do, because Christa Hutchens has a rep for being a masterful dominatrix. It's more than just a cover, my friend. She's real."

Was Mallory? Jackson's mind screeched to a halt as the thought train sped down a new track. Is that what she wanted from him, what it would take to win her?

"Her cover is solid because she's already a part of the BDSM scene in Billings," Tess told him. "People know she's DEA. They ignore it. She's one of them no matter her career."

"Has anyone considered that might be why she hasn't gotten the invite needed to break into the inner circle?"

"She never expressed a want to get the invite. She's been hiding her desire to be there, waiting for the right time to play."

"One day I'm going to stop hiding, Mallory
.
One day this tie is going to come off, and you and I are going to play."

Jackson's parting words to Mallory boarded the racing train. Though the games differed in their entirety, the situation struck him an ironic blow.

"That's where you come in, Special Agent Graham. Christa needs a submissive, someone who will help her convince the masses that she's decided to claim more than his delicious body." Tess smacked her lips.

Jackson jerked, her words causing his mental train to wreck into that final memory of the promise he uttered to Mallory.
"When that happens, it will be more than this delicious body I take
.
"

"Of course, if you have any doubts about your ability to carry out the assignment, I'm sure Christa can give you a few behind-the-scenes lessons before showtime."

"I know how to do my job, Tess," Jackson said, his tone bland despite the spicy plan starting to form.

"I bet you do." Tess's words practically sang with wicked meaning. "Are you planning to hook up with Jason and Angelina while you're in town?"

Jackson slanted her a look, wondering about her use of the words "hook up." The devious twinkle that had yet to leave her eyes answered his question without his bothering to ask. "It happened one time, Tess." And from the enjoyment oozing out of her, he would never live it down.

Not that he wanted to. He learned things that night that kept his mind reeling and his cock hard for months. Games. All the women in his life seemed to love playing games. Damn if he didn't find himself the pawn in another one now.

"I'll be visiting Jason and Angelina before leaving town." He already planned on it, figured he would pay his father a visit, too. He couldn't very well come to the coast and not see his family.

"I do have some things to discuss with them." He wanted to talk to Angelina more than anyone. It all boiled down to rules, and it was time to take advantage of the full resources at his disposal. Tess unknowingly taught him some things in the last few minutes. He would find more instructions in Angelina and likely his new partner with the DEA. Then he would take his lessons learned back with him to Waterston, where he would finally stop hiding from Mallory and start to play.

* * * *

The captain's office of the Silver Springs Fire Department looked exactly like one might expect, impersonal, tidy, and reeking of the disinfectant used by the nightly cleaning service. The expression on Captain Dean Wolcott's stern face as he glared in agitation at the newly appointed fire investigator came as a surprise.

It shouldn't have, Adrien mused. He crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and listened, grateful as all hell that he wasn't the one pinned to the hot seat by that impenetrable glare. He didn't know Dean Wolcott well. He didn't need to. The man's reputation as a dedicated, respected, and highly competent firefighter and captain gave Adrien all the necessary information. He had seen the man in action, heard the stories of his bravery and camaraderie with his men, and knew the man didn't take shit no matter how much got dished to him.

"That place was set to blow." Dean's tone left no room for argument. He sat rigidly behind his desk, the investigator's report on the super-lab fire in his hand and furious daggers shooting from his eyes. If he remembered anyone occupied the office besides himself and Regina Zimmer, it didn't show.

Fire Investigator Regina Zimmer obviously remembered. She wore a wrinkle-free blouse the color of a vibrant peach with pressed navy slacks and matching pumps. Her hair reminded Adrien of the fires she investigated. Flaming red strands cut boyishly short framed an ivory face with freckles and dimples that appeared at the corners of her mouth when she frowned.

Those dimples appeared when she smiled, too. Adrien remembered catching a glimpse of them when she greeted him with a firm handshake as she entered the office. A magnifying glass couldn't find a trace of that smile on her grimly set lips now. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, a basic blunder of anyone under interrogation, and shot a furtive glance his way.

Sorry, sweetie, can't help you here
.

Okay, truth, he wouldn't help her. If she wanted someone to leap to her defense, she would have to look somewhere else. Judging from the hard, unreadable expressions on Battalion Chief Tripp Barrett's and B-Shift Lieutenant Max Jasper's faces, both of whom stood on either side of the single window across the room, outside this office would be the suggested place to start.

"You're impression of the scene and initial findings are duly noted in that report, Captain Wolcott. As are my—"

"My
impression
of the scene."

The calm, seemingly controlled timbre of Dean's voice made the hairs on Adrien's arms stand on end. He found himself wanting to shift in his seat, and Dean hadn't even spared him a half-glance of acknowledgement.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus
.

"The initial findings are based on far more than my impression, Investigator Zimmer." Despite his obvious anger, Dean showed her the same respect she gave him, addressing her by her title. Adrien admired the man for that. "I was there. My crew was there. Every firefighter on my shift, under my command, responded on scene that night. Three of them nearly lost their lives when that trigger blew."

Regina nodded once. Her shoulders rose in a deep breath that she let out slowly through slightly parted lips. The uneasy shift betrayed her a moment before, but what Adrien saw as he watched her now showed of a determined, controlled, trained individual good at her job.

"I am aware of that as well, Captain. However, I have been unable to find exactly what was used to design this trigger you speak of or how it was set. Without something solid to go on, I cannot trace it outside of the burnt rubble you and your men left behind, much less to the culprit who put it there."

"Are you saying you don't believe there was a trigger at all, a booby trap set for the firefighters who responded?" As the former lieutenant of B-shift, Tripp Barrett's connection to the men involved obviously hadn't dissipated when he made the career leap to battalion chief. The tone he used to voice his question, devoid of its usual lazy Texas drawl, said as much. The fact that he'd married one of the firefighters in question, Engine Co. 1 Firefighter Bailey Lamont, only tightened his continued ties with this group of smoke eaters.

"No, I'm not saying that at all." Zimmer answered the chief, but her attention remained locked on the captain, gaining another point in her favor in Adrien's opinion. "Assumptions, impressions, gut instincts, we all have them, gentlemen. And each of us in this room knows none of that is enough to track down the party or parties responsible for starting that fire." She looked at Adrien, this time her expression assertive rather than beseeching. "You believe whoever is behind the fire wanted that super-lab found."

"It's our position that it was retaliation for the other labs we recently raided," Adrien confirmed. "As well as the lower level dealers we've taken into custody."

The DEA, himself and Michael included, saw the super-lab explosion as another message from the members of the Phay Cartel now operating on the coastal ground. The message was a great big fireball spelling out the statement: We're one step ahead.

Yeah, so far they had been. But the task force comprised of both federal and local agents along the coast was catching up fast.

"You've got the evidence you need, the drugs, the chemicals to trace it to the men you're trying to nail."

Zimmer said it as more statement than question. Adrien didn't bother to respond or to correct her use of the assumed "men" when they now believed the mastermind behind the coastal branch of the Phay Cartel to be a woman.

"That won't tag these bastards with arson and attempted murder," Max Jasper, silent until now, reminded.

Adrien considered the lieutenant and HAZMAT engineer for a long, thoughtful moment. The mad scientist was at his best, with “mad” being the operative word if the muscle ticking along his slightly stubbled jaw gave any hint of his mood. Jasper had spiky brown hair, dark eyes beneath gorgeously long lashes, and the nose of a drug dog. Adrien wished many times that Jasper had chosen to join the DEA rather than the SSFD. He credited Jasper's keen hazardous materials sniffing ability for the discovery of several drug-related chemicals leading to busts in recent months, including the super-lab currently under scrutiny.

"No, it won't," Zimmer agreed. "The investigation is far from closed, gentlemen. My partner and I will continue to investigate until we uncover something concrete." She turned to Adrien once more. "And if the DEA can use the connection of the drugs confiscated to solve the agency's case, it will make our findings stronger in court."

"Your partner," Jasper repeated. "Would that be Philip Mead? He's still a lead investigator in the arson unit, isn't he?"

Temper flared hot enough to spark a fire right there in the captain's office as Zimmer got to her feet. She turned on Jasper. Though Adrien could only see her back now, he couldn't miss the square set to her shoulders coupled with the white-knuckled grip on her shoulder bag. He didn't miss the way Tripp Barrett's lips twitched ever so slightly as he watched either. Adrien guessed the sudden rise in the fire investigator reminded the chief of his wife's reactions when someone implied that, as a woman, she couldn't do her job as well as a man. Poor Max. Adrien doubted he meant his question to sound as chauvinistic and condescending as it came out.

"He is," Zimmer answered with a calm that Adrien couldn't help but admire. "But, in case there is any question of my abilities to handle this investigation, Lieutenant, I can assure you I am fully trained and qualified. My record is exemplary. I have yet to be slapped with a case I haven't solved, nor have I ever taken the obvious and easy way out. This case will be no exception."

"I didn't mean to imply—" Jasper began, but Zimmer whirled away from him.

"If there are no more questions at this point, Captain, I'll be on my way." Her tone went from icy shards of fire to professionally cool in an instant.

"I guess that will have to be good enough." Dean didn't sound too happy about that, but his expression did soften a morsel. "You'll contact me the instant you learn anything new." He didn't ask. He told her.

She didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir, you can count on it." She turned on her heel and walked purposely to the door.

Adrien scooted to the edge of his seat, preparing to stand. "Captain, I need a copy of that report if you don't mind."

"I've got another in my bag if you want to follow me out."

Adrien shot a glance at the door. Seeing as how Zimmer had already left the office without so much as a backward glance, he didn't see much choice but to follow. Behind the desk, Dean pushed back his chair, obviously intending to get to his feet. Adrien rose and stopped the captain with a wave of his hand. "I'll just get the one she has. I'm expected for a meeting at HQ within the hour."

"Good enough." Wolcott settled back in his seat. "I would appreciate it if you keep me apprised on as much of your case as you can share as well, Agent Bingham."

"Yes, sir." Adrien stopped on his track to the door and addressed Barrett and Jasper in turn. "Good day, Chief. Lieutenant, thank you for your help in seizing the paraphernalia recovered."

"Don't mention it." Jasper gave him a curt nod, and Adrien swore he heard the man add under his breath,
unless you want to say it to the pit bull that just walked out of here.

"Careful out there, Bingham."

Dean Wolcott's words gave Adrien pause. He shot a look back at the captain, but met an inscrutable set of green eyes and matching expression. "Um, sure thing, sir. Will do. Thanks." He hustled out of the office and down the hall, finding Regina Zimmer waiting for him just outside the front door of the station house.

She dug in her shoulder bag, pulled out a copy of the report. "That man is ferocious."

Adrien blinked and took the report, wondering if she meant for him to hear her softly mumbled comment or not.

"Is he always like that?"

Thinking she meant Max Jasper, he felt the need to come to the other man's defense. "I don't think he meant that the way it sounded."

"Who? Oh, Lieutenant Ass." She shook her head, short red hairs lifting in the breeze the movement created and answered her own question before Adrien got the chance. "I meant the captain. I felt like an unruly schoolgirl sent to the principal's office in there. Worse, I obviously failed to come up with a satisfactory answer for my visit."

Adrien chuckled. "I don't know the man all that well myself. He can be pretty intimidating at times, but word has it, he's a real teddy bear."

Zimmer slowly started walking, hesitating slightly, as she obviously wanted to see if he would follow. He did, keeping an easy pace alongside her as they stepped off the sidewalk stretching in front of the office building. They crossed in front of the open doors of the truck bays, and his heart smacked his rib cage. When he arrived, the engine company had been out on a call. Engine 1 sat in its designated spot inside the dimly lit bay now, which meant Thaddeus was somewhere in the station house, too.

At his side, Zimmer gave a short chuckle and drew his attention back.

"He reminds me a little of my father." She glanced at him, tipping her head back slightly to meet his gaze. "The captain," she qualified. "Not age wise. He's probably closer to being my brother than father there, but he's got that air about him that makes me think parent, guardian, lover." She gasped, one hand flying up to cover her mouth. "I didn't mean…"

"I know what you meant. He's like Papa Bear around here, seeing after his cubs and making sure no harm comes to them. It's not just here either. I know of at least one kid whose life he's made better by playing the big brother role for years. Of course, that kid is the stepson of one of his firefighters now, Engine 1's nozzleman, Ryan Magee."

"The captain wears a wedding band. Does he have any kids of his own?"

"Not yet. He's married to Veronica Abbott, proprietor of Romantic Illusions downtown."

They reached her car, and she moved in front of him, turned back to face him as she kept talking. "I've heard of it. I even drove by it a few times, but I haven't been inside. I, um," she scratched her temple, drawing Adrien's attention to her short, unpolished nail, "don't have a use for sexy lingerie or intimate playthings."

Adrien's gaze snapped from her fingernail to her eyes.
No
.
Please, no
. Don't let that be a thinly veiled invitation, an innuendo for him to twist and make a move.

"Adrien, wait up."

Adrien recognized the voice, felt his heart slam into his rib cage for the second time in as many minutes, and repeated his previous thought.
No
.
Please, no
. He saw Zimmer shift her weight slightly to one side, watched her gaze flick past him.

She clucked her tongue. "Sorry, sweetie, can't help you here."

Adrien gaped at her, knowing he hadn't said those words back in the office when she'd looked to him for help. He thought them, though, and hadn't offered even a smile of comfort at the time.

"Good luck with that." She tipped her chin in the direction where he felt Thaddeus closing in and pulled her keys from the pocket of her slacks. "See ya." And with that, she got inside her car, started the engine, and pulled out, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"See ya," Adrien muttered and chuckled despite himself. Did the tension and longing he felt for Thaddeus come off him in waves when the man got within a hundred feet? Christ, how else would she have known he needed help to face Thaddeus Carter?

At least she wasn't hitting on him with her comment about the lingerie and playthings, he reasoned, and pulled his BlackBerry from his pocket as he turned. He thumbed through the text messages and missed calls that came through while he had been in the captain's office and frowned, shoving the cell back in his pocket.

"Whoa, sorry. I, um, should let you go." Thaddeus started backtracking his steps.