Chapter Six
Elizabeth opened her eyes. There was a wooden ceiling over her head. She frowned up at that wood. The ceiling in her bedroom was white. Not a cherry wood.
Her heart started to beat faster. She turned her head—and met a pair of dark, glittering eyes.
It wasn’t a nightmare. Oh, damn. Wesley is dead, and I’m being—hunted.
She swallowed. “I don’t care what you see in movies, that shit is creepy.”
Saxon frowned at her. “What?” He was sitting at the little table, his chair turned toward her.
She sat up in bed, making sure to keep all of her important parts covered. “Staring at a woman while she sleeps. It’s not sexy. It’s straight-up stalker-like.”
He blinked. He might have even flushed a bit. With his tanned skin, it was hard to tell for sure.
“It’s creepy,” she continued, “so don’t do it again.”
“I was keeping watch on you,” he muttered.
“Uh, huh…”
“And you’re fucking cute when you sleep.”
Now it was her turn to blink.
“Besides,” Saxon continued, voice deepening a bit. “You were the one calling my name.”
She shot out of the bed. “I was not!”
He leaned back in the chair and his gaze slid over her. “Yes, you were. So I thought I’d stay close in case you…needed me. I’m a helper like that.”
He was lying. Had to be lying. There was no way she’d called for the guy in her sleep. She put her hands on her hips and stalked toward him. “Did you talk to Agent Monroe?”
“Um.”
Um was not an answer. “Did they catch the guys at the motel? Have they found out who killed Wesley?” Do I get to return home now?
“Not yet, but Victor’s working on things.”
Right. Good old Victor.
She raked a hand through her hair. When she glanced over at him, his gaze was locked on her—and the darkness seemed to shine with intensity.
“Damn, but you are pretty,” he told her. “Shouldn’t your hair be all messed up when you wake? It just looks tousled and…sexy.”
“Wh-what?” She had to look like a wreck. No make-up. Crazy hair. So far from the land of sex appeal.
“Why are you wearing my shirt?” His right hand lifted, and the back of his fingers —those scarred knuckles that shouldn’t be oddly attractive to her—lightly caressed her arm, right beneath the edge of the t-shirt. “Not that I’m complaining. You look far better in it than I ever do.”
Talk. Elizabeth pushed the words out as she said, “I…just wanted to be in something that wasn’t stained by blood.” She’d used the little shower, too, was that wrong? After he’d left her, she’d been tired of being covered in blood and the sweat that came from fear. So she’d showered and crashed. It hadn’t been as if she were actually going to run out in the swamp after him. With the snakes? No, thank you.
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of that sooner…I could have picked you up more clothes.” His hand fell away from her. “I’m just not used to dealing with someone like you.”
Someone like her? He better not be insulting her. “What do you mean?”
His lips hitched into a half-smile. “Folks in my world are more likely to kill you than to help you.”
But he had helped her. Again and again. “It sounds like the wrong kind of world to me.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m getting out.” He pointed at her. “You’re the last job.”
Ah, so she was just a job now. Wonderful.
“After you, I’m home-free. No more staring into mirrors and wondering who the hell is looking back at me.”
There was a pain in his voice that pulled at her, and Elizabeth found herself edging toward him. A dangerous move, especially when his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened even more.
“Why did you start working undercover?”
“Because I can pass for a killer far too easily.”
She just stared at him. Shame burned through her. When she’d first seen him, she hadn’t doubted for a minute that he was a killer. He’d looked so deadly and dangerous when he burst in that back room at The Blade.
He shrugged, seeming a bit uncomfortable. “My skill set is limited, all right? Some men were born to be criminals.”
“But you aren’t a criminal. You’re the good guy.” The guy who’d saved her life.
He paced away from her, heading toward the lone window in that cabin. “Are you really so sure about that?”
She was. “You saved me.” Twice. Not that she was counting.
“And there have been others that I didn’t save. Too many of them.” His shoulders were stiff as he stared out the window. Sunlight poured in on them, spilling through the window. “A few months back, I ordered the complete destruction of a cabin just like this one. One of my best friends was inside—she was there with her lover. The cabin was his. By the time I was done, the place was burned to the ground.”
A chill skated down her spine. “You had a reason.” The words were pulled from her.
Startled, he glanced over his shoulder at her.
“You’re not some cold-hearted bastard,” Elizabeth said. Sure, there was a lot going on that she didn’t understand, but this part? She got it. “If you had been, you wouldn’t have saved me. You would have turned around and walked out of The Blade.”
I want an hour with her.
“Instead,” Elizabeth cleared her throat, “you spouted that bull about wanting an hour with me so that you could catch Taggert off-guard and get me out of there.”
Slowly, he turned to fully face her.
“So why don’t we play a game?” Elizabeth whispered. “You try telling me the truth…and I’ll try believing you.” What else did they have to do until Agent Monroe gave them the all-clear?
His head cocked. “The truth?”
“Why did you burn down that other cabin?”
His lips thinned. “Because I was working an undercover mission, and I had to find a way to get Jasmine the hell away from that scene so she could disappear.”
Her breath expelled in a relieved rush. “So you were being the good guy again.”
“A good guy wouldn’t have torched the cabin.”
“If you hadn’t…what would have happened to your friend…Jasmine?” And had that just been a hot lick of jealousy that stung her? It sure felt like it.
“My boss…” He shook his head. “The prick I was working undercover to bust wanted her dead. I wasn’t going to let that happen. She and Vic are the only family I’ve got. No one hurts my family.”
She was certainly getting the vibe that he was an any-means-necessary kind of guy. Strong. Dangerous.
So beyond my normal life.
But then, this whole experience had been surreal to her.
Elizabeth forced a smile to her lips. “See?” Her voice sounded a little too high even to her own ears. “I was right about you. You’re the good guy. The hero.”
His gaze swept over her. That dark stare heated. Oh, crap. She was still just wearing his shirt. She’d actually stripped off everything beneath the shirt, too. And as he stared at her, as that dark gaze of his seemed to devour her, Elizabeth was suddenly far too aware of the fact that her breasts had tightened into taut peaks. Her nipples pushed against the fabric.
He walked toward her. Moving with the same slow grace that a lion probably used right before he attacked his prey.
Elizabeth wanted to retreat from him, but she didn’t. She didn’t move at all.
“You want to hear another truth?”
Probably not but… “Yes.”
“I wanted that hour with you. I still want it.”
It seemed as if every bit of moisture dried up in her mouth right then. His voice had done that thing where it deepened even more, turning into a hard growl of sound, and her knees wanted to do a little jiggle because that growl—yes, it was hot.
“One hour…” Saxon murmured. “How many times do you think I could make you come in one hour?”
Let’s please find out. No, that thought had not just run through her head. But…when he kissed her—Bam.
Her cheeks didn’t just flush—they seemed to be scorching hot. “You shouldn’t say things like—like that to me.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t know. Her thighs squeezed together. “I want to go home.”
“What’s waiting at home that’s so great?”
Her gaze fell from his. Nothing. Both of her parents were dead now. So there was no mother who’d fret if she didn’t get a phone call from Elizabeth. No father who’d come by to check and make sure she had everything she needed at her condo.
Actually, she had no other family at all. There was no one waiting with baited breath for her to return. Just an empty apartment. She didn’t even have pets—they weren’t allowed in her building.
“Sweetheart?’ he pressed. “What’s so great at home? What are you missing?”
She didn’t want to talk to him about her life. Because talking about her life made it seem even emptier.
Elizabeth started to turn away from Saxon, but he caught her wrist, stopping her. “Truth,” he pointed out. “It’s what you wanted.”
She’d wanted to hear this truths, not share the jagged shards of her past with him. So Elizabeth lifted up her chin. “I don’t have anyone waiting for me.”
A faint furrow appeared between his brows.
“My parents passed away two years ago. They were killed in a car accident.” Because, once, she had gotten frequent calls from her mother. Calls that had made her smile. Calls that had made her frown. Calls that had made her know that her mother was always thinking about her. Always there. And her father had popped by her place—to make sure her locks were working. To check the faulty wiring. To eat lasagna with her late at night.
“I’m sorry.”
So was she. “My mother was a lawyer and my dad owned an accounting business. They were having dinner, going home one night and—well, they never made it.” She had originally planned to be at that dinner with them, but a last minute stomach bug had kept her home. “They were on a secluded road when their car crashed. Their…their bodies weren’t found until the next morning.” She’d had to go in and identify them. No, that can’t be my parents. They…they shouldn’t look like that.
“It’s harder when they love you.”
Now it was her turn to frown.
“Because then when you lose them, it’s like someone cut into your chest. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.” His hand lifted, and those scarred knuckles of his brushed over her cheek. “My dad cut out on me when I was five, and my mom couldn’t wait to kick me out. I lived on the streets for too long after that, and by the time I finally heard that my mom had overdosed, I don’t think I felt anything but numbness.”
He was alone, too.
“But you knew that your parents loved you,” Saxon said. “That matters. You have to always hold on to that.”
A tear leaked from her eye. He caught it—on those scarred knuckles.
“Knowing that should make the memories easier.” Now his hand slid down and pressed right over her heart. “And I think in time, it should make you feel, I don’t know…stronger. Better.”
Her own hand rose and curled around his. “Thank you.”
“Getting easier to say that to me, huh?”
She shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t quite understand you.” There were so many layers to Saxon. Elizabeth had the feeling that she might never fully understand him. Talk about a man of mystery.
“That’s fair. I don’t understand you, either.”
And she realized she was holding his hand to her chest. She was still just wearing his shirt, and the bed was a few feet away.
Elizabeth hurriedly stepped back from him. “I, um…” Think. “Should you go check in with Victor? I mean, with Agent Monroe?”
“Not for at least another hour.”
An hour…he’d wanted an hour with her.
In an hour, he’d call Victor. Get an update. And then, she could be walking away from Saxon. She might never see him again. The thought left her feeling oddly…bereft. That didn’t make sense, of course. There was no point in missing someone that she’d just met.
But Elizabeth knew she’d never forget Saxon.
“What was it like the last time you had sex?” Saxon asked her.
She frowned.
He laughed. “Sweetheart, if you frown, then that means it wasn’t good.”
No, it just meant…she couldn’t remember. Had it been a year? Longer?
“Pity,” he said as his hand pulled slowly from hers. “I could have given you an hour that you’d never forget.”
She believed him.
He turned his back on her.
“Saxon.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“I’m not going to have sex with you because you saved my life.”
“Twice.”
“Twice,” she muttered. “I don’t trade sex for favors. I don’t trade sex for anything.”
He walked toward the window. “Message received.”
Her heart was pounding too fast and her palms had started to sweat. Saxon wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met and…no one else is here. No one to judge. No one to know. It’s just our time. “And the truth is…” Because she’d agreed to play this game. “The truth is that I’d give you an hour that you’d never forget, too.”
His hands flew up and grabbed the wooden frame around the window. “Don’t.” That one word was close to a snarl. “Don’t play games with me. I’m not the kind of guy who—”
“I won’t have sex with you because I’m grateful to be alive. I won’t have sex with you because I’m trying to trick you into getting my freedom.” She’d used that technique when she’d kissed him in the alley. “I’ll have sex with you…because I want you.” Because she kissed him and—Bam.
He whirled toward her.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. Her hands went to the hem of the t-shirt she wore and she slowly lifted the shirt up…and then she tossed it to the floor.
***
The FBI agents and the local cops were swarming the little motel on the edge of Miami. He watched from a distance, making sure not to get too close. Elizabeth had vanished, and he couldn’t have that. The woman was too much of a loose cannon out there.
He believed in tying up loose ends.
I should never have involved Taggert. But he’d been trying to keep his hands clean. He’d forgotten, though, that blood could wash off so easily. Getting back into the business of killing—it had been like riding a bike. I’ve still got the skills.
Elizabeth Ward was a piece of unfinished business that he would be eliminating. And when she was dead, he’d be able to go back to the life that waited for him. A life he’d been living for two wonderful years. Ever since he’d put Elizabeth’s parents into the ground.
But Elizabeth might have remembered me…I couldn’t risk her putting the pieces together.
His gaze fell on the swarm of cops around the motel. Really, why the hell were folks making such a big deal out of these kills? Those three men—Haines, Mayo, and Gustav—hadn’t exactly been innocent victims. They’d been at that motel with a mission to kill, too. Only they’d become his prey. He’d gotten there just minutes after Saxon and Elizabeth cleared out. Minutes. Taggert’s three bozos had still been in the room. He’d demanded information. They hadn’t given it to him, so they’d died.
Simple.
The young desk clerk at the motel…his death had been unavoidable. The fool had seen him when he went to leave. He’d chased the kid back inside the little office. Before he’d killed him, he’d tried to learn where Elizabeth and Saxon had gone.
The boy had remembered seeing them leave in an old, gray pick-up truck.
He’d shot the helpful fellow after learning that tidbit.
After all, he’d learned never to leave witnesses alive. If you did, well, those people would just come back to haunt you in the end.
The way Elizabeth Ward is haunting me now.
When Wesley Locke had called to tell him about the woman, when the guy had finally put two and two together and realized just who his new love interest was, the shit had really hit the fan.
Elizabeth Ward was infamous in certain circles. Circles that she probably didn’t even know about. And if he didn’t kill her, soon…then someone else would just do the job.
I won’t lose out on this payday. I can’t.
Because if he failed on this hit, there would truly be hell to pay.
***
Saxon fought the urge to pounce on her. Elizabeth stood before him, her body totally revealed to him, her breasts full and tempting, her sex—bare—and just begging for his touch.
Her nipples were pink and pebbled and he’d be kissing them first. He’d lave them with his tongue and make her moan and twist against him. Then he’d work his way down her stomach. Licking and kissing, maybe giving her a few bites, and when he reached her sex, he’d lay her out. He’d spread her legs wide and devour her until Elizabeth’s moans turned into screams.
“Uh, Saxon? You’re kind of just standing there.”
“Working out my plan of attack.” No, he was trying to keep his control. Because his dick was shoving against the front of his jeans and he wanted to pump full and hard into her—so deep that he owned her, but he had to hold back. Because…
This is Elizabeth.
And this hour, it might be their only time together. So he hadn’t been bullshitting when he said he’d give her an hour to remember. He’d give her an hour to make her forget every other man who’d come before—and any dumb assholes who were lucky enough to know her after he was gone.
Her hands twisted a bit nervously in front of her, moving down to shield her sex.
Saxon shook his head. “I like seeing every bit of you.” He forced his eyes to rise once more and meet her stare. “That hour is starting now.”
“It is? It—”
He was on her. He lifted her into his arms, holding her easily, and he put his mouth on her breast. Sweet fuck, but she was perfect. His tongue slid over her nipple, and her breath caught on a hard inhale.
“Saxon?”
He pulled her nipple deeper into his mouth. More honey. Everything about her was sweet honey. He lifted her higher and his mouth made its way to her other breast. He licked her. He sucked her sweet flesh, and her moans had him nearly coming in his jeans.
Saxon took a few fast steps, still carrying her, and then he put her down on the bed. He eased back a moment to just look at her. Her nipples were wet from his mouth—so pretty.
She pushed onto her elbows. “I—”
He spread her legs apart. Sensual pink flesh stared back at him. Saxon leaned forward and kissed his way down her stomach. His fingers found her sex first, sliding over those slick folds—and she was wonderfully slick. Creamy and hot, driving him in-freaking-sane. He pushed two fingers inside of her. Tight. She was going to feel incredible around his dick. But first…
Her moans needed to turn into screams.
He withdrew his fingers, pushed them in again, and, this time, his thumb slid right over her clit.
Elizabeth nearly shot off the bed.
A nice start…let’s do more.
His knees hit the floor, and he pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. Saxon turned his head, and he kissed her thigh. Her skin was silky soft. So soft everywhere. And when he touched her, he forgot all about the hell he’d lived through as an undercover agent. He only thought about her.
He put his mouth on her clit.
“Saxon!” Her fingers sank into his hair and her hips surged up against him.
He held tight to his control, and he explored every inch of her sex. Licking. Kissing. Caressing with his tongue and his fingers. She was going wild against him, shuddering and gasping, but still not screaming.
He pushed his tongue into her sex.
Her whole body tensed.
He blew lightly over her clit. Stroked her again. Again.
“Saxon!” She screamed and she came, and he didn’t stop. He kept licking her and caressing her because he loved the way she trembled against him. Loved the way her sex quivered and she grew even more slick for him.
Her thighs trembled around him, and, with one more lick right over her clit, Saxon rose from the floor. Her legs were still spread, her nipples still tight, but now her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes glittered up at him.
He yanked up his shirt. Tossed it aside. His hands went to the snap of his jeans.
Elizabeth started to close her legs. She reached for the bed covers.
“Don’t.” A guttural demand. “I like you that way.” With her taste on his tongue and the marks from his mouth on her skin. He kicked his shoes away and then finished stripping. He yanked a condom out of the small chest near his bed. Fuck, yes, he believed in being prepared. He’d never brought another woman out to this cabin before, but he knew better than to take chances.
His cock was fully extended. The head already glistened when he shoved the condom on. “I’m going to be rough,” Saxon warned her. Because he’d used the last of his control.
Her eyes were on him. Wide. She licked her lips. “I can be rough, too.”
His control shattered. In the next instant, he was on her. One more second, and he was in her. He drove as deep as he could go, shoving his dick into her tight sex and it was—
Too good.
Saxon stilled. She was a hot heaven around him, and when he stared into her eyes, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, he saw her desire for him burning bright.
“Saxon, move.” Her nails raked down on his back. “Keep going—give me everything you have.”
He withdrew. Thrust. Slammed into her again and again, but he wanted more, too. He caught her legs and lifted them over his shoulders so that he could go into her even deeper. Each thrust of his body sent his shaft sliding right over her sensitive core, and he felt her jerk beneath him.
For an instant, Saxon stilled, afraid that he’d hurt her. Afraid that he’d been too—
Her nails bit into his shoulders. “Stop now, and I will hurt you so much,” she promised, her voice a dream of sex and temptation.
So he kept thrusting. Kept driving into her tight sex, and when she came, he felt her inner muscles contract around him even as she screamed for him once more.
It was a real good thing his cabin was isolated…
He surged into her. Again. Again—
Then he was the one to bellow because the release was that fucking good. Good enough to gut him. Good enough to make every muscle in his body shake.
Good enough to tell him…
I must have more.
Her lashes slowly lifted and her bright stare met his once more. Her breath was coming fast, so was his, and he waited for her to speak.
“That was…” She smiled. “Can we go again?”
Fuck, yes.
***
In the last twenty-four hours, five men had died…men all connected to Elizabeth Ward.
Victor paced in front of the Moontree motel. None of those five men had exactly been amateurs when it came to the criminal underworld. Yet they’d been taken out with brutal efficiency.
Why?
He ran a hand over his face. “I think we’re looking at this all wrong,” he told Tracy.
“Then how do we need to look at it?”
“We need to look at her. Elizabeth Ward.” She was the one in the middle of this clusterfuck. A woman that he’d thought was just an innocent who’d been targeted for death…
But that had been before her would-be executioner wound up with a knife in his throat and before the three flunkies sent after her were found with bullet holes in their vital parts. “We can look at it two ways,” Victor said. “Either someone is hunting Elizabeth Ward and killing anyone who gets in his way…”
Tracy waited.
“Or else,” he said, and this suspicion was making his gut clench. “Maybe someone is out there, eliminating any threats to her.” Making absolutely sure that she didn’t have to fear from Taggert or Locke again. Or fear an attack from the guy’s goons.
“You’re thinking she’s not so innocent?”
“I’m thinking I want to know every single detail about her life. I want to know the name of the doctor who helped bring her into this world and the first boy who kissed her. Everything.” Because by looking at Elizabeth’s present, they were limiting themselves far too much. A bigger game was at play there, a game centered completely around Elizabeth.
“Get Gary to start digging into her life. Tell him I want those answers yesterday.” He headed for his car. It was getting close to his check-in time with Saxon, and he needed to warn the guy to be on guard with Elizabeth. The woman might not be the victim he’d assumed.
She might be something entirely different.
Someone that Saxon would need to take down.