Trained for Seduction (31 page)

It became so all she wanted to do was sleep, so he’d touch her. There was no sexual contact at all. He didn’t kiss her more than a chaste thing on the corner of her mouth when he had to.

He’d made no attempt at making love to her, even though they’d cleared her for that a week earlier. She’d told him, and the look he had given her was like an icy knife being driven into her heart.

He only had to twist the knife in her heart to kill her, and she was waiting for it… Waiting like she had when she almost died, waiting in that quiet, silent place where he said he would be. Waiting for him to return. Only this time, the room was full of pain.

Jake was right. She had to talk to him. She couldn’t bear waiting any longer. He needed to twist the knife and kill the love she had for him, so she could be free. She didn’t see him coming back from this, to love her again. She’d let it go way, way too far.

Chase stood at ease in the shooting range, loading the pistol, oblivious she was there, which surprised her because he noticed everything. He didn’t wear protection of any sort. Protection was for wimps, he had said once.

She remembered how loud the discharge had been when she’d been shot, and after, when she had shot the guard. She wished now she had practiced some without any protection. It might have been easier.

His blue flannel shirt draped open over a white T-shirt, jeans and he wore a military baseball cap—his favorite weekend attire. He was thinner than when she had met him, harder. Definitely colder. He took aim down range and effortlessly fired off the rounds, hitting direct center at a distance she knew she could never hit.

She forced herself to breathe around the lust that built, swirling, quickly consuming her. That she’d want him this desperately when he hated her had to be wrong. But want him she did, especially when he shot like this, dark and dangerous, beyond amazing, beyond perfect. The clip was empty so he reloaded again, not bothering to check his target.

She gripped her sweater tighter around her. It was now or never. “Chase.”

He glanced up, finished what he was doing and then walked over, his face guarded. “You want a turn?” he asked, holding out the gun.

“The last time I held a gun, I killed a man.” She stared at the gun, her stomach churning, and brushed the hair from her face. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, not when she wanted to touch him so badly. She tucked her hands back under her arms. “You never told me how that would feel. Just that it would get easier.”

“It sucks,” he said. “If you have any sort of a conscience, it sucks. It doesn’t matter how evil the target is. You have to believe what you did was right, for our country, and find peace that way.”

It was the most he’d said to her in ages. “We need to talk, Chase,” she said softly.

“I have nothing to say.” But there was a flicker of emotion that said he lied, and he had a hell of a lot to say. She bit her lip, unsure what to do.

Nervously, she tugged at the collar of her shirt, and his eyes dropped to her cleavage. His breathing changed just a little, and it took him a moment to tear his eyes from the small amount of flesh visible. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he finally dragged his attention to the gun in his hand.

She blinked, hope taking root. He wanted her. He was pissed as hell, but he still wanted her. She leaned in and grabbed his water bottle off the shooting bench, her hand brushing his. He tensed and took a step back, giving her room. She drank, then set it back down, deliberately bending a bit so her shirt fell away, exposing more of her breasts to him.

She heard his breath hitch then grow shallow. He swallowed harder and took another step back. She stood and knew how to scale the wall. She’d seduce him. She’d climb that wall of his naked and make him notice her. And at least, if he tossed her back over it when he was done taking her, she would have held him one last time.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

His gaze snapped to hers.

“I want you.” She took a step toward him. He took one back. “I want you to fuck me on your shooting bench, like you wanted to on our birthday weekend. Remember? But I was too sore, and you…you were just you, dark and dangerous. The devil with a gun, just like you are now.”

She leaned against the bench, more of a table, and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, taking longer than she would have if she were just undressing, just as he had once taught her. His gaze wanted to dip, wanted to take in the black bra she wore. She hoped he’d ignore the new scar on her stomach, where they’d removed the bullet and sewed up the damage. But it was a part of her now, like it or not.

“Put the gun down,” she ordered, because he seemed to respond when she gave him a command. He blinked, took a step to the side, away from her, and did as he was told. She ran her hand over her breasts and now his gaze dropped, his eyes flaring with desire as she cupped the flesh, her thumbs on her nipples. “Touch me.”

He closed his eyes, and she thought his hands trembled at his sides. Just a little because Chase never showed anything.

“Chase.”

His eyes opened and snapped to hers again.

“Touch me.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to make a decision. If he left, she’d curl up and die on the spot. Her heart hammered faster as he stared at her. He looked unsure, but who knew? He swallowed again and took a step forward, then two.

His hand rose, shaking, and touched her arm. The contact was electric. Shocks ran from his fingers along her skin straight to her core. He stepped closer and she could inhale his scent—guns and Chase. The air around them became supercharged, the current dangerous yet alluring at the same time. He glanced down at her arm, where his hand was, then he met her gaze again.

She didn’t like what she saw there. Fear raced with desire along the current between them. He was going to turn away. She knew it. She couldn’t lose him. She dug deeper into her training, remembering his words. She reached behind her back, unsnapped her bra, and let it fall so she stood topless, her breasts exposed, the autumn air puckering her nipples.

His gaze dropped again and his breath caught. He didn’t touch her, but her body responded as if he had, her breasts tighter, the strange connection between her nipples and her pussy coming alive with a pulsing heat. Her panties grew wetter as moisture gathered. She wouldn’t need him to touch her to be ready, not at this rate.

She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and tugged him closer, between her legs. He wasn’t immune to her, not if his cock was this hard, the bulge visible through the denim. She unbuttoned his pants, slid his zipper down, then tugged at his pants and underwear, setting his cock free.

Her hand trembled as she grasped his shaft at the base, stroking him long and languid, squeezing him just as he liked. He made a quiet noise in the back of his throat, not quite a groan. A drop of pre-cum beaded, and she bent, though the angle was awkward, and took just the head of his cock in her mouth, her tongue sweeping away his fluid.

He stiffened.

She sucked him deeper, harder, then released him from her mouth. She shoved him backward a step and knelt before him. She took his cock in her mouth again, sucking him deep, hard, the head at the back of her throat. His shaking hands threaded into her hair, his fingers against her scalp, and her heart sang at the contact.

She sucked harder, content to just blow him if that’s all he wanted. But she was doing this to get in, under his skin, to make him open up. In the field, she would eventually do this to some man to get what she wanted. It was sad that she had to do this now, to the man she loved, to make him talk to her.

His hands tightened in her hair and he tugged. She stood, unsure what he wanted, afraid he’d push her away. He bent and kissed her, hard, possessive, his tongue fierce, demanding. If felt as if he poured every ounce of anger and longing into that kiss, and she hung on to his shoulders and let lust respond.

He released her head and yanked up the skirt she’d worn without breaking the kiss. He slid his hands into the sides of her panties and ripped, the material shredding in his hands. His fingers delved between her thighs, stabbing between the damp folds of her pussy, jamming into her core with a roughness he’d never shown her before.

She welcomed him, spreading her legs, moaning into his mouth as he shoved two fingers in, thrusting hard. This would be hard, fast, and she probably wouldn’t get to come. Her punishment for being trained to seduce.

He lifted her to the bench, never breaking his kiss as he stepped between her thighs. He fumbled just a second, his cock homing in, and he grabbed her hips. He rammed home, claiming her, stretching her, the intense pleasure as violent as his need. Yes, she needed this. Had forgotten what it felt to be his, only his.

He broke the kiss and bit her neck, sucking as hard as he thrust. She leaned back and used her palms to support herself and him as his tempo increased, if that was at all possible. He shoved her down, flat on her back and followed her, his pecs pressing, his chest hair rough against her nipples as he pinned her down. She slid her hands to his shoulders, and he grabbed them, pinning them against the hard wood.

And suddenly she was reminded of when he had refused to force her and instead had made love to her. He would have claimed her then, like this. He would have ridden her just as hard, as violently, breathing like a dragon down her neck, every muscle tense, sweat beading on his brow.

“There’s a price for this,” she whispered in his ear, remembering how she had bargained with the guards to keep Jake safe. “If you come, you will have to talk to me.”

He tensed and stilled, panting, his eyes wild and feral. “I have nothing to say,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“If you come, you will talk to me,” she commanded. He was too far gone to pull out.

“I have nothing to say,” he whispered but lost himself in her again, thrusting like he was possessed.

She could feel the struggle, wanting to come yet holding back because he was so stubborn. His shoulders tensed, the conflict etched in the lines of his face.

“Chase. Come for me. Let me be your Trinitrotoluene. Your TNT. Detonate for me,” she whispered, urging him on. “I am 251 megajoules of high-explosive orgasm, baby.”

He shuddered and tensed. He loved her smart talk. She wanted to make him explode, to come harder than ever before, so the goods would be worth the price of talking.

“I’ll break your sound barrier at 6900 meters per second. Come for me.”

He trembled and let go, groaning as he thrust harder a few pumps. Then he stilled, his cum jetting deep inside of her, hot and wet. He thrust gently, then collapsed on top of her, shaking and panting.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him, missing the contact. His hands were still biting into her hips, and she ached for him to wrap them around her.

“You didn’t come,” he finally said against her neck.

“No.”

“Good.” He struggled out of her arms and withdrew, avoiding her gaze. He stood and yanked up his pants, shoving his cock where it belonged before he zipped up.

“You don’t weigh one-thirty anymore,” he whispered, then finally looked at her, super-composed. “One twenty-five, maybe.”

He had noticed she had lost weight. She should be happy that he noticed, but she thought for a moment and a cold chill ran over her skin. He’d done the math to her megajoules comment, relating how much energy TNT contained per kilo.

She swallowed nervously, because she had forgotten how smart the devil was. Just as smart as he was beautiful. “You know TNT.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “I used to know TNT. I think you’ve become comp B, and I don’t know a damned thing about comp B. Except it’s way more than I can deal with.”

Yes, maybe she had morphed into something else, just like when they added other compounds to TNT to make stronger explosives, like comp B. But he had done this to her. It wasn’t her choice. She steeled her resolve to get what she needed. “Do you want to talk here or in the house?”

“I have nothing to say.”

She called her inner Kate, the one who had boldly shot a man. She could face this Chase. “You got your orgasm. Now pay the price. Start talking.”

He looked…hurt. “I can’t believe you just fucked me to get me to talk to you.”

“What did you want me to do? Honest to God, I have tried. I have cornered you in the bathroom, in the gun room, in your study, in the car, and you made it quite clear you didn’t have anything to say. I have made appointments to see you at the office, and you canceled them.

“You owe me an exit interview because isn’t that what this is? You’re done. I know that. This is what you did to Diane, only I’m smart enough to see it before you go and cheat on me like you did her.

“You owe me, and don’t you stand there looking at me like I’m a whore. You trained me to seduce, to get what I want. You made me what I am. So if you have a complaint about what I’ve become, look to the devil inside of you because that’s where I learned it.”

His cold gaze snapped to hers, and the mask slipped long enough for her to see the fury boiling, hot in contrast to the iciness of his brown eyes.

“I never taught you about threesomes. I never went there. How the fuck does a threesome even come up while sitting in a cell, waiting for a madman to kill you? Normal people, they’d talk about how they were going to escape or maybe how they were going to accomplish the objective. But not you two.” His laugh was bitter. “What else did you talk about, for Christ’s sake?” He waved a hand. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

She blinked. That was the most Chase had said to her in weeks, and of all the things that had gone through her mind regarding why he hated her, this was not one of them. “Jake and I talked a lot about you, but the threesome came up because he told me about your past, how you shared endless amounts of women, and when you are out of control, like you are now, that is what you turn to.”

“That was then.” Chase looked away, toward the edge of the shooting range. “Makes me glad we were radio silent on that conversation. It was bad enough, watching you in the clearing and knowing every man in that tent had a hard-on. My God, you were so fucking hot and there wasn’t a guy who didn’t want to be Jake at that moment. Including me.”