Trained for Seduction (23 page)

“Enough,” Chase commanded.

Jake went to break the kiss, and she hauled him back with her hand in his blond hair, her mouth more insistent, her hand sliding down between them to cup his cock in her hand—

“Enough!”

She grabbed Jake’s hard cock and squeezed, then broke the kiss, panting as she stared into Jake’s startled blue eyes. She’d done her job. Jake’s gaze was filled with lust, his breathing just as ragged as hers.

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, glancing over her shoulder at Chase, then back at her. “You’re going to kill him, Kate. Don’t do this to him. He has his reasons, and he has every right to go here, as bad as this hurts.”

“He doesn’t give a fuck.” She climbed off Jake’s lap and finally turned to Chase. Fury boiled under the surface of his perfect features, his lips thin, his eyes glittering. Her old self—Emma—would have been terrified. His anger stoked Kate’s defiance, Kate’s anger. “Did I convince you?”

Chase swallowed, the proverbial mask returning, a little askew, but in place. “You’ll live.”

“Are you sure? I’ll fuck him if you command it, sir.”

“Kate,” Jake whispered. “This is part of the job. He has no choice, and I’m telling you, he’s right.”

“Really?” She turned to Jake, then back to Chase. “In the real world, I would expect my boss to think that if I was up for a job, then I would have been trained appropriately. I would be able to complete it without having to degrade myself in his office. So I want to know. Who are you right now—my boss or my lover?”

“Your boss.”

“Wrong. This is something a lover would do out of spite, so he could convince himself that what he had to do was the right thing, that commanding me to hate him was the right thing.”

Chase remained tight-lipped, so she turned back to Jake. “How many times have you kissed a woman in front of him, for job-related missions?”

Jake looked away.

“See?” She turned back to Chase. “You want me to hate you, so it will be easier for you. You watch us because it hurts, and that makes it easier for you. You said I was too much Emma, and I’m letting you know right now, I am all Kate. So I ask you again, do you want me to fuck him, sir?”

“Get out.” Chase’s voice was barely a whisper, his face unreadable, but a droplet of blood ran from his finger where the paper clip bit into his skin. She stared at the blood. Maybe this bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Maybe he cared, just a little. “Did you hear me? I said to get out.”

She did as she was told, hating Chase, hating herself, and mostly, hating this job of theirs.

Chase watched Kate go and closed his eyes for a moment, hating this damned job. She was right about some of it. Yes, he’d made her kiss Jake to feel the pain, to make it easier on him if she didn’t return. But a part of him was terrified she’d freeze in action, like he did in Paris, and it would get her killed. Jake had saved his life then. Expecting him to save hers, too, was asking a lot.

Chase narrowed his gaze at his friend. He wanted to kill Jake, throttle him with his bare hands, but it wasn’t Jake’s fault. He was caught in the middle. Chase found a bandage in his top desk drawer and wrapped it around his finger, wishing the physical pain deadened the pain he felt inside. But it didn’t.

After what seemed like endless minutes, Jake said, “I’m sorry.”

“Why? She’s the brat. You did as you were instructed.”

“You have to tell her.”

Chase shoved the desk drawer closed. “Tell her what? And leave Paris out of this. You gave your word to keep silent.”

Jake stabbed a hand in his blond hair, running it through the strands. “Tell her that you changed the mission, and this is the only option for her to return. You just asked her to do the impossible—make out hot and heavy with her work partner—your friend, let him beat the shit out of her, and I know you told her where she stands as far as expendability, because you’re an asshole like that. Give her a bone, man. Give her some hope.”

“What will it change? Besides the fact that I could get in a hell of a lot of trouble for sharing those details with you. You have much higher clearance. Imagine the general’s wrath when he discovers I just went and spilled all to her. She’s expendable.” Chase was terrified of his uncle, but the idea of Kate loving him, leaving him, dying, was enough to stand by his decision to let her think he was the bad guy. It was much easier. For both of them.

“Then you need to tell her how you feel about her, so she understands something. Christ, Chase, you think you’re hurting?” Jake pointed at the door. “You just annihilated her. Killed every hope and dream she ever had about you. I can take it. I’ve done this a long time, and I know where our friendship stands. But you’re not going to have a woman to go home to if you don’t say something.”

“Isn’t it better for her to think I hate her? That this is easy for me to do?” Because if she knew I loved her and did this, it would be so much worse.

“And if she doesn’t return? You want her to die thinking you hated her, used her, and she was nothing but a task for you? Damn, I’ll do my best to bring her back, but what if? Once she leaves that cell, I have no control. That madman can beat her, rape her, slit her throat, or give her the keys to his castle. I can’t do a thing, Chase.”

And that was exactly what scared the shit out of Chase. Even sending Jake, he had no control of the outcome. It all came down to what he’d trained her to do. If she died, it would be his fault because he hadn’t done his best. “I need to make a rule that drinking at work is now approved.”

“You don’t need to drink. You need to be honest. This is going to kill you, Chase. Just tell her.”

Late that evening, Kate opened the door to Chase’s house, exhausted, drained, and terrified at what she’d find when she walked inside. She had pushed Chase more than she had a right to, had taken her kiss with Jake too far. And now that her anger had cooled, she was sorry.

It didn’t help that Chase had warned her she’d hate him as a boss. He’d been very, very clear on that, and she had ignored his warnings. He’d never gone into any detail about how he felt about her, ever, but she thought she’d read that he cared in the way he kissed her after he’d given her multiple orgasms, the way he held her tight, as if he was afraid to let her go. The way he’d refused to force himself on her and instead made love to her, claiming her like he’d never claimed her before.

She shut the door and leaned against it, listening. It was late. They’d kept her forever with their notes, tests, gadgets, advice. Jake had sat with her, holding her hand as she said nothing, just absorbing what she had to do to come home.

To what, though? Chase didn’t want her, had only fucked her to get her ready for this. And as if on cue she’d think about this during the day and Chase would pop in, see her hand in Jake’s and then walk away, and that made her even more sad.

It shouldn’t kill her that Chase had known the extent of the plan—hell, the plan had been his—but it did. He knew, right from the moment he’d taken her virginity, where this mission was going. He’d handed her over to Jake, watched as Jake worked his magic, allowing her to slowly adapt to him so she could do this. None of it was right. Normal. Yet, he’d done it all behind that stupid mask of his, so unemotional, uncaring.

God damn Chase. She wanted him to care. She needed him to show it. She needed him to be sorry. There had to be something there that would prove that her love for him was justified. That he was the man she believed him to be, just hidden, unable to surface.

Chase came out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a rag, pausing as he entered the foyer. She met his eyes and wished she could read him better. Par for the course, she had no idea what he was feeling. No idea if he was gearing up to say he was sorry or to boot her to the curb or just turn his back and walk away, because she was expendable.

He stood, so still, as if he were stone instead of the man she loved. He was always so beautiful, even in plain old jeans and a polo shirt, an apron covering most of him. What should she do? Turn and run—that’s what she wanted most.

No, she wanted to sink into his arms and cry and wish the hands on the clock would turn back to that first weekend when he so sweetly made love to her for the first time and looked at her as if she were a special gift, just for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, to break the ice, honestly sorry she’d pushed the boundaries.

An expression flitted across his face, too quick for her to name. He yanked off the apron and tossed it into the kitchen. He crossed the foyer and pulled her to him, kissing her, his mouth fierce, hard, more than demanding. Desire exploded inside, the shock waves vibrating through her limbs, the impact triggering her need. Dampness pooled between her thighs, her pussy instantly ready for him.

She opened her lips to him, letting him take whatever he wanted. He ripped the buttons from her shirt, kissing her neck, his mouth hot, sliding to her breast, his thumb and forefinger tugging her nipple, his hands yanking at her jogging pants. She helped him, kicking free from her pants, then her underwear. She undid his pants, and his cock sprang free, hot, ready, and insistent.

He grabbed her hips and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked a step to the door. He leaned her against the wood and guided her down on his cock, sheathing himself deep in her pussy in a single thrust.

It felt so good, right down to the slight burn as he stretched her quicker than usual, having him bare, slick, and hot inside her pussy. He stilled a moment, his breathing ragged, steamy against her neck. Then he thrust again, once, twice and he shuddered as he came.

She pressed his head to her neck, holding him, her legs gripping him tightly, tears blurring her vision. This was Chase, her lover, and he cared. He didn’t say it, but he had shown her with how urgent he’d been, how quickly he came—wanting to possess her, unable to wait to claim her. If she allowed herself the luxury, she could make the leap that maybe he loved her just a little. But knowing he cared was enough.

“How soon before dinner,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

“An hour.”

“Then why don’t you take me upstairs and make me come? Or take me to the sofa, or the tub. Somewhere where there isn’t a doorknob in my leg.”

He smiled against her neck and kissed her there, tickling her skin. He slid her to the side, away from the knob. “I don’t want to put you down.”

“Then carry me to the bed, sofa, tub, shower, kitchen counter. Wherever.”

He carried her to the living room and they tumbled to the sofa. He flipped her until she sat on top of him, his cock still deep inside. So unreadable still, despite the passion he’d just shown her.

“Isn’t that better?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed her neck, his hot mouth slipping down to capture her nipple. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the path his lips took. Then something beeped in the kitchen, and he patted her hip, signaling her to let him up. She scooted off and he rose, tugging his pants over his hips, and went to check whatever he needed.

He returned a moment later, looking far less stressed, but guarded. “After dinner, I suppose I should let you shower and whatever else you need to do, so you can sleep and be refreshed for tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so,” she whispered. “I plan on spending the night making love to you. All night.”

“Kate—”

“What do you think Jake is doing right now? He told me he was going to the club and getting laid. I could join him, if you tossed me out.”

Chase didn’t answer, which was odd, because usually any mention of Jake got a reaction, so she said, “I’m tired of my boss butting his nose in where it’s not wanted. My lover met me at the door tonight—unlike my boss, he’s scared as hell. I can feel it. I’m scared as hell.

“But I’m not going to bed like a good girl because that’s what would make my boss happy. Fuck him. He doesn’t care if I return or if I fuck Jake or any of that. But I think you do.”

Chase swallowed and nodded once, but he didn’t meet her eyes. He stared off, trapped inside his own personal hell. She knew that hell, and she wished he’d share it with her. But he wouldn’t. Ultimately, he was the boss. Always the boss.

If he was going to be lost, then she’d find him the only way she knew how. Through sex. “Then feed me, and then make me scream your name over and over. Your pleasure. I can take control or you can. Whatever you need. I’ll sleep on the plane.”

****

Chase fed Kate as instructed then led her upstairs, angry with himself. He’d practically raped her in the doorway, unable to control himself, unable to wait. After the control he’d shown the night before during their role-play, he couldn’t believe he had lost every shred he’d ever owned.

She’d been so lost when he walked into the foyer. So scared because there was no way she could even guess what she’d find. He gave her credit for coming home. He couldn’t have done it if the roles were reversed. Yet she’d stood there like a cornered kitten, terrified but unable to flee, whispering that she was sorry.

She was sorry. As if she had reason to be. Her reaction in his office had been expected—strong but expected to some degree. If she hadn’t blown, he would have doubted that she loved him.

As he had stared at her, in the foyer, he had found himself tongue-tied. He couldn’t even find the words to express how he felt, how scared he was, how much he loved her, so instead he’d gone with the base feeling—lust. He had wanted her, wanted to own her, possess her, and now it embarrassed the crap out of him.

But more importantly, after losing control like that, he needed to take it back. Though he no longer feared hurting her and didn’t need to go to that extreme, his base need was still there. He had to control her. She had to submit to him.

The need was fierce, consuming, and if he didn’t take her to the dark side he had so avoided to this point, he knew he’d have to leave—right now—and find someone else to control. He needed her to be a part of that control, because he loved her too much to leave. But he didn’t know if the Emma left in her could handle the intensity.