Killian
In another life, Axel Rutherford and I could’ve been either best friends or bitter enemies, depending on whether I chose to have him in my life or not.
We’ll be neither because I don’t intend to give him a chance to stake a claim either way.
It could have something to do with what I heard—and immediately detested—in his tone when he spoke to Faith on the phone last night. It was…proprietary. As if he believes he owns a piece of my woman. From the hour I spent investigating him while Faith was sleeping, he comes across like the ruthless, possessive type, so I know that conclusion isn’t without merit.
The man who rises from the desk when we enter his office confirms that conclusion. I may be an arrogant bastard where she is concerned, but he looks like a possessive asshole. And that doesn’t bode well for either of us.
Besides, he’s got that brooding-face-and-intelligent-eyes shit going on that women eat up.
Take the brunette sitting on the sofa, for example. There’s a fevered intensity about her when she looks at him that would’ve bordered on the uncomfortable had I not recognized it in myself whenever I look at Faith.
Axel’s gaze, however, is not on his woman but on mine.
“B, I saw you on the monitors. I could’ve dreamed you said you wouldn’t be coming to work tonight.”
“Yeah, so I changed my mind.”
“Fair enough. And is there a reason you’re turning up to work with an entourage? Did you change the club’s policy again without letting me know?”
“What do you care, as long as we’re turning a profit?” she demands.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I still want to know why you need two SUVs to come to work.”
He’s still talking to her but his gaze has shifted to me. Direct. Nonthreatening but the promise is there. In fucking bucket loads. I let loose a feral smile of my own, close the gap between us, and hold out my hand. “Killian Knight. That’s probably my fault.”
“Axel Rutherford.” We shake hands, and his eyes narrow after a beat. “You’re the tech guy who invented that thing…What was it? A super-microchip?”
I nod. We lock imaginary horns for a few more seconds, and I get the feeling my other skills are not unknown to him. After another beat, he cocks his head at Faith, still without taking his eyes off me. “Does she belong to you?”
Her face stiffens, and her cheeks flush adorably. “What the fuck, Axel?”
My lips twitch. Okay, so maybe I won’t devise ways to destroy Axel Rutherford just yet. “I belong to her. It’s easier for both of us if we put it that way.”
Axel’s shrug suggests he considers it the same difference. I don’t argue with that. We study each other a moment longer before he focuses his attention properly on Faith. Whatever he senses makes his jaw flex. “Everything okay?” he bites out.
I hold my breath. She toys with her bottom lip for a bit. “I need to take some time off.”
Axel folds his arms. “Hell, no. Request denied.”
I shove my hands into my pockets so no one sees them ball into fists. Throwing punches will only delay us getting out of here. “She wasn’t really asking,” I say, very much aware my voice is granite-hard.
Axel’s gaze swings back to me. “Wasn’t she? I could’ve sworn—”
“Since no one’s bothered to introduce me, I’m Cleo McCarthy.” The brunette rises from the sofa and joins us, smiling at Faith.
“Sorry, Cleo,” Faith mutters. “I seem to be caught in the middle of a dick-measuring contest.”
Cleo attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite make it through the strain on her face. “Trust me, I get it. I was hoping to see you today.” Axel’s gaze swings to Cleo, locks, and stays. The look they exchange is furnace-hot but charged with something volatile. Whatever’s going on between Axel and his lover—and I have no doubt they are—neither of them are giving a quarter.
Kinda like what is going down in my own life.
“Yeah, something came up.”
Cleo nods. “Yes, Axel told me. Well, I’d love to have another lunch sometime.”
Faith bites her lip, and Axel’s gaze sharpens.
“Leave her be, Cleo,” he drawls. “Looks like she’s got bigger problems to deal with.”
Faith glares at him. “I can speak for myself, thanks.” She turns back to Cleo. “Not sure when I can. I’ll call and let you know, okay?”
Cleo nods, and even though she tenses a little when her gaze flicks to Axel, she smiles again. “Of course.”
Faith glances between them and frowns. “Is everything okay between you two?”
“Mind your own business, B,” Axel replies.
She rolls her eyes. “Cleo?”
“We were having a…disagreement,” Cleo says.
Axel smiles. “Not true. We were done disagreeing. She’d just seen the error of her ways and was just about to make friends again. Weren’t you, sweetheart?”
“In your dreams,” Cleo snaps, but I feel the charged longing behind her words.
“Since my dreams are all about you, too fucking right.”
Thick silence settles over the room.
I clear my throat. “Can we move this along?”
Axel’s gaze stays on her for another moment, and then he nods. “Now that that’s settled, sure. You were saying?” he drawls to no one in particular.
“Leave of absence. Unspecified length of time. Starting right now,” I repeat.
Axel rounds his desk and hitches one thigh over the corner. “Hell of a time to drop this on me, B.”
I try not to grit my teeth and realize I’m still not okay with the name he’s calling her. “It wasn’t planned,” I offer. “But it can’t be helped.”
He absorbs that and shrugs. “Well, if she belongs to you and you need to do this, then—”
“I swear to God, you say that again, and I’ll punch your lights out,” Faith snaps.
Enough of this shit. I walk up behind her and slide my hand under her hair to cover her nape. “You. Belong. To. Me. We’re doing this. Deal with it and let’s get it done,” I growl in her ear. “We’re wasting time as it is.”
Her lips part but she doesn’t say anything. After a moment, she exhales softly. I give her a quick squeeze, let go, and step back.
Axel’s brows spike, and he shakes his head. “Fuck me, I never thought I’d see the day.”
Faith throws him a glare. “Oh, whatever. Screw you, Axel.”
He rises and strolls over to his girlfriend. He stares down at her for a moment, drifts a finger over her mouth, and then turns around. “Fine, if you need to go, go. I have things to do, especially now that you’ve dropped this pile of crap in my lap.”
“Don’t be melodramatic. You’ll barely notice I’m gone.”
“You’re a fucking pain in my ass, B, but I’ll notice,” he says.
Now that I have evidence that Axel is obsessed with another woman who isn’t Faith, I choose not to let his words affect me too much.
“Jade will step in until you get one of the managers from your other clubs to fill in. The one at Viper Red should be fine,” she says.
I raise my eyebrow. “Jade?” I ask, although I don’t give a fuck who Jade is. But information is king, and gathering intel, no matter how useless it seems, is ingrained in me. Besides, I’m still one hundred percent sure that Faith is keeping something from me, so every fact is vital.
“She’s the receptionist downstairs. She’s started filling in on my days off, and she’s been great so far. I see no reason why she can’t step in for now.”
Axel nods, but his gaze and hands are moving over Cleo. “Great. Glad that’s sorted. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“One more thing.” I look at her but Faith hesitates. “Tell him, baby.”
Axel gives us his attention. “Tell me what?”
She holds up the thumb drives. “I also came to give you a heads-up that I’m taking a copy of the client list with me. And the list of the applicants whose membership we refused.”
Axel doesn’t seem particularly disturbed by the news, but his hands drop and his gaze turns vigilant. “Okay…what the hell do you need that for?”
I shake my head before she can speak. “We’d rather not say. But it’s important that we have it. All of it.”
Charged silence pulses in the room. It’s to his credit that he judges the situation and gets what’s at stake. Not that it would’ve mattered in the long run. Hacking the club’s database will be child’s play if Axel decides he wants to be precious about it. But it’s easier and time efficient if we don’t have to.
“Fine,” he says. He reaches into his pocket, takes out a card, and holds it out to me. “If you need anything else, give me a call.”
I take it from him. “Thanks. If I can ever return the favor, let me know.”
Axel strolls forward and stops in front of Faith. Everything inside me tenses. He fucking better not be thinking about doing anything like touching her. Or, hell, kissing her. His eyes narrow on her face for a moment. “Take care of yourself.”
She nods.
He turns to me. “Anything happens to her, I’ll fuck you up.”
Okay, fair enough. “Anything happens to her, I’ll let you.”
“Oh my God. How the hell do you hear yourselves over all this chest thumping?” Faith snaps. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost, because I know I’ll pay for the testosterone bombs we’re throwing around her. “If you’re done with the bromance and the cock swinging, I’m going to leave now,” she snaps impatiently.
Axel opens his mouth.
She holds up her hand. “You better not be about to use pansy-assed words on me, Axel.”
“Fine. Get the hell out of my office, B.”
She looks over at Cleo, and, contrary to her sharp words to Axel, Faith’s face softens for a moment. They share a smile, and she turns and leaves the room. I follow her back into her office. As suspected, she gives me the cold shoulder as she unlocks a safe built into the wall and grabs whatever else she needs. When I hold out my hand, she silently hands over the thumb drives, and her gaze sweeps over the office.
“How much longer do you need to stay? Do you need to do anything else?”
She shrugs. “No. I can leave anytime I want.”
“Well, let’s make that right fucking now, shall we?”
Perhaps she’s putting a brave face on it, but I’m still disturbed that she doesn’t throw so much as a fond, lingering look at the room before we walk out and she shuts the door behind her.
Was that how easy it was for her to walk away from me in Cairo? One moment she was unconscious, hooked up to machines with her life hanging in the balance. The next she was gone. The hours I spent wondering if she was dead were the worst of my life. The faintest trail in the form of missing funds from our joint agency expense account was the only way I knew she’d planned to leave me.
The discovery that she’d planned her exit meticulously left me stunned for days. It’s the reason I know I can’t let down my guard around her.
Her gaze slides to mine as we enter the elevator. Whatever she sees in my face makes her avert her eyes.
We stop at the bar to collect a stoic-looking Mitch and Linc. Five minutes later we’re back in the SUV.
“I want to go back to my apartment,” she says.
I shake my head. “Not gonna happen. Your security is shit.”
She glares icy fire at me. “My security is absolutely fine.”
“How do you know? Has it ever been tested?”
She frowns and shakes her head.
“Your surveillance is pretty adequate, I’ll give you that, but all it’ll take is a good kick to that front door of yours and it’s over. So, no, you’re not going back there. Besides, we’re not living in two separate apartments. Not while there’s a threat out there. Once this is all over, we can discuss it.”
She exhales long and slow. “Fine. What about my things?”
“Already taken care of.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“I said—”
“I heard what you said, Killian. I’m just wondering if we’re going to make it to tomorrow without me severely maiming you.”
I smile for the first time since we left the club. I feel a little lighter. But I’m pretty certain that’s not going to last very long when the vehicle bounces over a pothole and her body moves suggestively with it. The sight of leather and lace against her skin is driving me nuts. “You’re more than welcome to try.”
She catches the change in my voice and swallows. “How…” She clears her throat. “How wide are you going to search for Galveston?”
I let her change the subject pulsing between us. For now. “He went straight to his father’s house in Georgetown when he landed. So Galveston Senior is still very much involved. How deep is yet to be determined. We already know there’s a connection between the contracts he brokered for his son to start delivering aid to Africa and the trafficking picking up sharply. But the Galveston family has doubled its airline outfitting business in the last two years. So it could be they don’t need the shipping angle any longer. We never managed to get any actual eyes on what the insides of the planes look like, so we don’t know if they’re building secret compartments to transport their cargo or whether they’re bribing officials to look away. Or both.”
Her brows pleat. “We’re talking officials from over a dozen countries. That’s a hellish undertaking to check everything.”
After a beat, I nod. “Yes.” It hasn’t escaped me that asking my supercomputer to do all this searching is a monumental task. Not to mention the fact that the human angle is vital for any investigation. Without boots on the ground, there is only so much we can achieve.
I reflect on that as we arrive at my apartment building and head up in the elevator. Mitch and Linc come with us but step out one floor below.
She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t ask for an explanation, and I don’t give her one. She walks out ahead of me when we exit the elevator. The way she sways her hips and deliberately drums her fingers on her thighs as she waits for me to open the door tells me I’m getting a little payback for what happened in Axel’s office. I’m mildly sweating by the time I disable the alarms and let us into the apartment.
“I’m going to change,” she says the moment we walk in.
“I think that’s a good idea,” I reply as I cross over to the bar. “Can I fix you a drink?” I throw over my shoulder.
She gives a slow, uncertain shake of her head, and a tiny twitch of puzzlement crosses her face. I suspect she’s feeling a little off-kilter. Well, I’m feeling like my balls are about to fall off from the constant pressure she’s putting them under. So, guess we’re equal.
Her footsteps fade away as I pour a shot of Hine, knock it back, and pour another. This one I nurse as I walk to the wide window and look out over the stunning view of New York City at night. I shove my hand into my pocket and encounter Axel’s business card. I take it out and stare at it. There’s no job title or business address, just his name and telephone number embossed in gold on a black background.
The man’s military history isn’t a secret. Combined with his family’s mob history and the kind of work he does now, he’ll probably be the right person to sort out our manpower issue. And if he partnered with Faith for four years without once questioning her background, then he most likely can be trusted to be discreet.
I return the card to my pocket. Something to think about, maybe, but not right now. The other items in my pocket, the thumb drives, demand priority. I take another sip of cognac and head to my study. I download the information and feed it into my specialized search code, expanding the parameters to include every possible scenario I can think of.
Then I sit back in my chair, rolling the glass between my fingers. I don’t want to go to bed. Not without her. And with her in a pissy mood, it’s going to be a fucking long night.
My cock doesn’t get the message though. It throbs and jumps when she appears in the doorway. She’s still wearing those fucking control-shredding leather pants, but the lace top and corset have been swapped for a white tank top. Without a fucking bra. Jesus.
The memory of her gorgeous breasts in my hands, of her luscious nipples in my mouth, is as vivid as ever.
She nods at the monitor. “Anything?”
I shake my head without taking my eyes off her tits. Even from across the room I can see her nipples reacting to my scrutiny.
She walks over, rounds the desk to my side, and sets her tight little ass down on the edge of it. Her body doesn’t brush mine, but my every sense is attuned to her. She reaches over and plucks the glass from my hand and takes a delicate little sip.
“You’re in a mood for payback. I can tell,” I mutter, my tongue thickening just from the smell of her skin.
Her eyes gleam green fire at me but she doesn’t answer. She takes another sip and slowly glides her tongue over her lower lip.
“Which part upset you most?” I press. The earlier we get my sins out in the open, the quicker I can get my punishment.
“Oh, let’s see. The whole ‘you belong to me’ thing.”
I nod. “Okay. Anything else?”
“The general taking-over part.”
“I see.”
“Oh, and the not believing me about Axel bit too. That ticked me off big-time.”
“Uh-huh.”
She sets my glass down and traces the lip with her forefinger while staring at me with one eyebrow cocked. After a minute, her eyes narrow. “Well?”
“What, sweetheart?” I ask gently.
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
I rescue my glass from her finger-seduction and down the rest of the shot. “Sorry I didn’t believe you about Rutherford.”
Her cute little chin juts out. “That’s it?”
“I’m not going to apologize for telling him that you belong to me. You do. Just as I’m yours. You just don’t like hearing it.”
She huffs out a breath. “And why do you think that is?”
I shrug. “I could tell you but you’d just get madder at me. And I really want to get on your good side.”
My gaze, drawn like magnets, returns to her tits and the saucy pebbles of her nipples. She allows me to watch for a couple of minutes before she stands and paces a few steps to the window.
Her body framed against the glass like that, and with her back to me, I can’t help but stare some more, at her ass cradled by the skintight leather. My breath hisses out and my cock strains against my fly. Christ, I’m definitely going to need to jack off if I have any hope of sleeping tonight. For a second, I contemplate the to-hell-with-it approach to getting inside her, but then I remind myself that, even though it feels like a fucking decade, she’s been back in my life for just over twenty-four hours.
She raises her arms above her head and rises up on her toes in a slow feline stretch. Then her fingers sink into her hair. She plays with the silky strands, twisting and bunching them before she shakes the heavy weight down her back. The ends fall precisely on the rise of her sweet butt and pull my gaze back to that part of her body and that naughty little triangle between her legs.
Still perched on her tiptoes, she slowly swivels around to face me, displaying her supple body in all its curved and sleek glory.
My fingers grip the armrests. Saliva fills my mouth, and my whole body throbs with raging need. “Baby…” My voice is a hoarse plea.
She looks over, eyes at half-mast, and she gives me a bored yawn. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Killian.”
My head slams back against the seat, and I shut my eyes. “Fuck.” Five minutes after she’s gone, I’m still breathing like I’ve run a damn marathon. I’ve debated with myself, tried reasoning with my steel-hard cock to no avail. My fingers fumble with my fly. I’m ready to give myself some desperately needed relief when Betty cock-blocks me with a series of sweet chirps from her mainframe.
I drag my eyes open and stare at the screen. At first I’m not sure what I’m looking at. And then a few things become clear.
Fucking hell.