Chapter Eighteen
Mac stared at the double bed with its limp pillows and ugly brown covers, then at Tess.
“I swear the clerk said it had two twins.” The lying sack of shit.
“In that case, someone stole one of them.” Rather than turning tail, she dragged her carryon luggage into the room and parked it on a chair.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered.
Tess shuddered visibly as she eyed the carpet. “You’ll catch something and die. I’ll end up in prison because they’ll assume I did it. Look, we’ve both had a shitty day.” She sounded resigned. “I’m going to shower, change and sleep. You keep to your side of the bed and I’ll keep to mine. This is no more intimate than us sleeping together in the car.”
She had a point.
She’d had a harrowing day, although he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed the adrenaline rush—not of seeing her in danger—but of ferreting out clues pertinent to his investigation. The information justified his coming to Idaho at such a crucial time.
His phone rang and MC Hammer’s “Can’t Touch This” blared out. He swore.
Tess laughed and the tension on her face eased. “You never struck me as a rap fan.”
He turned it off without answering the call. “My ex. Once again proving she has terrible timing.”
“She’s persistent.”
Mac rolled his shoulders. “She doesn’t like to be told ‘no.’”
“You playing hard to get?”
He narrowed his gaze. “I’m not playing.”
“Maybe she still loves you.”
“If she loved me she wouldn’t have fucked her boss.” Mac stopped speaking. This wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with Tess.
“You sure it isn’t pride that stops you calling her back?”
Everything got very quiet inside his head. “You think I don’t know the difference between pride and love?”
“It’s not that—”
“It’s exactly that. Would you forgive someone who cheated on you?”
Her eyes flashed to his. “No. I wouldn’t. But I’ve never loved anyone enough to marry them, have I?”
With that she opened her case, took out a toiletries bag and something to wear and walked into the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind her.
Christ.
He scrubbed his face again, trying to wake up his tired brain. He shouldn’t have snapped at her, but he didn’t like being made to feel guilty for ditching a bad marriage, although maybe it was just Tess. Everything about Tess made him feel guilty, especially the thoughts he was keeping strictly to himself.
He checked the message from Heather—more nonsense asking if they could go for coffee. He shook his head in frustration. Why? Was she hoping Lyle saw them together? Why would she even want Lyle back after the guy cheated on her? Was Mac naïve to believe fidelity should be integral to a loving relationship? He thought of the people he knew in healthy relationships. No, he wasn’t naïve. Heather was selfish and greedy. Lyle was the same.
Looking back now, he realized he’d married Heather partly out of lust, partly because she’d seemed like the kind of woman who’d make him look good to his bosses. She was social—too social, evidently—and knew how to suck up to the right people. He didn’t want to think about what a disaster it would have been if she’d focused on one of his co-workers rather than one of her own. And Heather wasn’t really a bad person. She was a liar and a cheat, but her main fault was being needy. She needed attention. She needed to be the center of people’s attention and didn’t mind causing a scene to make it happen.
He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the nearest chair. He should get a few hours’ sleep while he had the chance. He eyed the narrow confines of the bed. It should be okay as long as neither of them crossed that invisible line.
He was a professional. He could do this.
If his bosses found out he spent the night in the same bed as David and Francis Hines’s only remaining daughter when there was even the slightest possibility she might be involved in these murders—say goodbye to running his own field office any time in the near future. Except, sticking close to Tess made it easier to do his job. He might be able to gain her trust, which was something she obviously didn’t give easily.
She was probably innocent, in which case there was no issue with this situation. Finding out her brother wrote computer code raised alarm bells what with the whole chatroom on the dark web thing. The average citizen wouldn’t know how to mask their online identity, but Cole Fallon would.
The pipes rattled as the water turned on.
Even in his sleep-deprived state he had no trouble imagining Tess naked.
The light flickered, snapping him out of his base thoughts.
Use the enforced proximity to forward the case.
Mac casually lifted the lid of Tess’s baggage and peered inside. There was nothing more damning than a change of clothes, including some rather sexy lingerie, and an ereader. He turned it on and checked out the books she liked. His eyebrows stretched high at the titles and covers: The Devil’s Doorbell, Taking Turns, The Dom’s Dungeon. She evidently enjoyed erotic novels. He made a mental note to check out some of the books—for research purposes.
She had a laptop, but he didn’t have permission and wasn’t proficient enough to bypass her password—which he assumed she had—before she got out of the shower.
He dumped his duffle on top of the drawers beside the bed. At least this way he kept an eye on the woman. A very close eye… Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all that. Not that he thought of Tess as his enemy. Never had.
That was the real problem.
When it came to Tess Fallon he wasn’t objective.
He sat down on the edge of the mattress and the springs squeaked. Great. He kicked off his shoes and lay back, staring at the brown water stains on the ceiling. They’d removed the hard drive from Jessop’s PC at the FBI field office and the hardware now resided in an evidence bag inside his duffle. That evidence wasn’t leaving his side.
He yawned. To hell with it. He’d close his eyes until she came out of the bathroom.
Next thing he knew he woke up with a start in a pitch-black room to the sound of a mattress squeaking in the next room.
Where was he?
Then the moaning began.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered irritably.
A voice murmured in the darkness. “At least they seem to be having a fun.”
Tess.
Mac let out a long breath. He’d forgotten where he was and who he was with. He glanced at the digital alarm clock. One fucking a.m.
Shit.
“If my experiences are anything to go by the whole thing will be over soon.” Her voice was a velvet whisper.
At least she had a sense of humor. He turned toward her. His eyes were gritty, but light from the parking lot shone through the skinny drapes making it relatively easy to see. He made out her outline buried up to her nose under the covers. He was fully dressed on top of the bedding. Definitely a good thing.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” His voice was husky. He shouldn’t be talking to Tess about sex again, but he was curious. And until the guy in the next room got off no one was getting any sleep.
“Three minutes?” She sounded warm and languorous. “Four tops.”
“Three minutes? Who the hell have you been dating?”
She snorted in a decidedly unladylike manner. “Apparently, I’m so incredibly sexy it’s my fault.”
He grinned. “There are pills for that.”
Her smile flashed in the shadows.
“So I’ve heard. It’s kind of hard to introduce that into the general conversation before you get naked with someone. Maybe I should have sprinkled some in his salad.” She was silent for a moment as they listened to the wallbanger next door. “He cheated on me with my best friend even after I told her the sex was lousy,” she said quietly. “They actually eloped to Vegas.”
“Bastards.”
“I haven’t been able to forgive either of them, so I do understand your feelings for your ex. Sorry if I made you feel bad earlier. It was none of my business.” Her voice was small, as if she’d worried about his hurt feelings.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
Their mattress creaked as she turned to face him. The rusty springs made them sink toward each other. All the saliva in his mouth evaporated, though sheets and two layers of clothing separated them. Everything about this felt intimate. More intimate than he’d been with anyone in years. Maybe ever.
“Julie always said she was a sex goddess so it probably was me.” Tess sniffed.
“Your best friend declared herself a sex goddess?” Mac asked. He felt her nod. “You can do that?”
“Evidently,” she mumbled.
“Does that mean I can declare myself a sex god?” He kept his voice low although there was no way the neighbors would be disturbed if the rhythmic knocking of the headboard was any indication.
Tess laughed. “Only if you’re any good at it.”
“I can last more than four minutes—”
“Sex god.” Laughter echoed around the room. He hadn’t heard much laughter from Tess. It was a nice sound.
“And the woman always comes first,” he added, unable to resist even though he should know better. He closed his eyes, determined to try and get back to sleep.
“Super sex god.” She sighed.
There was a crescendo of noise and screams—the good kind—from the adjoining room. Then blessed silence. The show was over. Thank God. He closed his eyes. The room was warm and he began to drift into that half-doze state.
“Not that it’s always possible,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
“Yeah, baby. Get on your knees.” A third voice joined in next-door and the sound of a slap came clear through the wall.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Mac growled.
“Are there three of them?” Tess said, aghast.
Mac smothered his frustration and squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck. “Apparently so.”
“Oh, my God.” She scooted up the bed and stuck her ear against the paper-thin barrier.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Tess, you can’t do that!” Christ.
“Why not?” She tried to tug out of his grip but he didn’t let go.
“You can’t spy on people having sex.”
“But they’re invading my privacy with their antics. How can it be my fault if I listen?”
He kept up the pressure on her arm until she reluctantly lay back down.
“Lying in bed and listening is one thing. Pressing your ear to the wall is something else entirely.”
“You’re no fun,” she complained.
Some sex obsessed thoughts entered his brain at that. He could be fun. They could be having a whole heap of fun right now if it wasn’t for the fact Tess was a former, if unwitting, member of the Pioneers. He swallowed and reminded himself to let go of Tess’s hand.
“How long ago did you break up with the guy who cheated on you with your best friend?” Keep it casual. Dig for information. Don’t think about what they might be doing in the next room, or what the two of them could be doing in this one if only circumstances were a little different.
“Last summer,” she said glumly. “When they got back from Vegas they were hitched. That was the first I heard about it. They were both very sorry.” Her voice got quiet and he could barely hear her over the rhythmic banging next door. Hell, the combination of listening to someone else having sex and lying in bed next to an attractive woman was having an unwanted effect on his man parts.
Great. Just what I need.
“Jason and I were both instructors at a taekwondo club. I’d persuaded Julie to start taking some self-defense classes.”
“At least you found out before you got too serious.” But betrayal always hurt.
“True love seems to be a vicious myth.”
“No kidding,” he agreed. “You haven’t dated since?”
The bed moved as she shook her head.
“The only male attention I’ve been getting is from my brother’s college buddies who seem to think they’ll get a credit for seducing anyone with a vagina.”
Mac could imagine exactly what the frat boy type would think when they looked at Tess. His jaw clenched.
“My little brother is mad at me,” she confessed quietly. “He overheard me saying that I thought an older woman being with a younger guy was gross, and then discovered he’s serious about an older woman. Tact was never my strong suit.”
Mac filed the information away for when his brain woke up. They were still banging next door and he was considering going in there with his gun.
“I received a lecture on equality from him and his buddies. It was humbling because they are so young and naïve and yet they were right. I was being sexist.”
He grunted. “I guess it all depends on the age difference. Once people are adults who gives a damn as long as no one is being exploited.”
Some days he was impressed by how mature he sounded.
“When was your last relationship?” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “Sorry. I guess that’s too personal for our relationship. It’s just you know pretty much everything about me—”
“I didn’t know your ex was a limp dick asshole.”
She laughed but she sounded sad now. His silence had made her feel like an outsider, again, but there was no way he was discussing his dubious list of nameless hookups. The reminder of his “relationships” over the last two years made him a little ashamed.
“Well, it’s nice to know I have some secrets left,” she told him.
“You always this chatty in bed?” he asked. Amused.
“No.” She sounded horrified. “I’m not chatty at all. I’m quiet. Too quiet.” That statement seemed to hover between them like a challenge he was doing his best to ignore. The idea of making her scream…of touching her, of taking that peck on the lips they’d shared earlier and investigating the fuck out of it? It was killing him.
Her hands covered her cheeks as if they burned. “I’m mortified by the fact someone, well three someones, are having kinky sex about two feet away from where we’re lying in bed like a couple of corpses. Not,” her voice rose, “that I think we should be having sex. God.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she seemed to hyperventilate.
She might deny it, but he knew she was attracted to him. He’d seen the way she watched him. He knew that even though she didn’t want to, she had a thing for him. She always had.
And now she was all grown up, that attraction wasn’t one-sided.
He could use that.
Even as he considered it he pushed the idea away. If Tess was as innocent as he believed she was, she’d already been used enough. He would do his job but he would not hurt her. Still, no harm in pushing things a little. “You said earlier that sometimes it wasn’t possible. What did you mean?”
The pounding was getting louder and louder. If he hadn’t been running on fumes he’d have been cheering them on.
“Nothing,” Tess mumbled.
“Did you mean orgasms?”
She buried her head under the sheets. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Are you saying your ex never gave you an orgasm?”
She muttered incoherently.
“You know that makes him an asshole, right?”
“Sex is overrated.”
The woman in the neighboring room started screaming.
Whoa. “I don’t think she got the memo.” Heat poured off his skin. “I’ve had enough.” He sat up. “I’m gonna knock on the door, show them my badge, and scare the crap outta them.”
She shoved the covers off from over her head. “Careful they don’t drag you in for a kinky foursome.”
He blinked. “What?” Then he remembered the covers of the books she had on her kindle.
“You know—a sexy cop comes to the door and they invite him in to play with his handcuffs?”
“Sexy cop?”
She slapped him on the stomach.
He laughed. “Do you have group sex fantasies, Tess?”
“What?” She gave a strangled cry. “No!”
“I’m FBI.” He reminded her with mock seriousness. “I’ll find out if you’re lying to me…”
She slapped him on the stomach again and he grabbed her hand just in case she accidentally made contact a little lower and got more than she bargained for.
He lay back down and rolled onto his side. “BDSM? Emphasis on the ’S’ for slapping?”
She growled. “I just like hitting you.” She pulled her hand away, and he let go before he did something really stupid like move it lower. He was playing with fire, but he didn’t intend to take this further than teasing.
“I’m not into anything. The idea of some guy blindfolding me and smacking my ass makes me want to punch someone.”
“But you like reading about it?” he guessed. He could feel the heat coming off her face in waves.
“How on earth do you know that? Did you have my reading habits investigated? Is that gonna turn up in some case file somewhere? Tess Fallon likes to read Lexi Blake and Beth Kery—put her on a goddamn watch list?” She was getting angry and he caught her hand when she went to smack him again.
He leaned up on his elbows, edged closer and smoothed the hair off her face. She was getting upset and no wonder. He wouldn’t want someone prying into his life in such detail. “It’s okay, Tess. It isn’t in any report. I’m joking with you. I snuck a look at your ereader earlier,” he admitted.
“Because you thought I might be reading what? Some Neo Nazi crap?”
“I was curious. That’s all,” he soothed. He held fast to fingers that fought him with all her strength, but he didn’t threaten. He didn’t want her to break his nose with a ninja trick.
“I was just curious,” he whispered again. He lay back down, their shoulders touching, still holding her hand as the ménage-à-trois did the bump and grind close by.
“When I was a little girl they tried to control everything about me. What I did, what I learned, what I thought, what I read.” Her words crashed down on him like a hammer.
Ah, shit. He remained quiet. He hadn’t thought about that when he’d been prying into her life. They’d tried to control everyone with their authoritarian system. Mac had always admired how strong Tess had been to resist the ideology of hate when that was all she’d ever been shown.
“No one is going to shame me into not reading whatever the hell I want.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I read all sorts of books from erotica to fantasy,” she said fiercely. “Now I’m pissed that I don’t even get to keep that kind of secret.”
He squeezed her hand. “I shouldn’t have pried. I’m not gonna put it in any report.”
Her shoulder shoved him but he gripped her hand tighter.
“But it’s my business, Mac. Not the FBI’s.”
“I won’t tell the FBI, sweetheart.”
“You are the FBI,” she gritted out.
“Not tonight.” For once he wished that were true. “Tonight, I’m plain old Steve McKenzie discovering new things about a woman he likes and is getting to know better.”
Which unfortunately was true.
And there was a weird silence that filled the space between them. After everything they’d been through together there was no denying they shared a bond, something that usually took years to establish. It made him a little sad that this attraction between them was so forbidden. Or maybe that’s why it was so compelling.
“How long can they last?” She sounded anguished as the pounding started up again next-door.
He laughed. “If it was one guy then maybe an hour if he paced himself.”
“That’s a damned lie.”
God, she was funny. And the idea of proving how long a guy could last was becoming mighty tempting.
He squeezed her fingers.
“If it’s two guys and one girl, which it sounds like, then this shitshow might go on all night.”
“I’m so tired I might go sleep in the bathtub.” She pulled the pillow over her head.
He remembered something he should have thought of ten minutes ago. He dug into his duffle, fingers searching in the darkness.
“Here.” He had ear plugs he used for the gun range. She took them from him and put them in. They both stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before fatigue gripped him again and smothered him like a pillow. Just before he fell asleep her hand slipped into his again and she gave his fingers another gentle squeeze.
His heart gave a jolt. For one terrifying moment, he considered tasting her lips again, letting his hands roam that body and play out a few of her favorite scenes. Then she let go of his hand and turned away.
The sense of loneliness that engulfed him took him by surprise. FBI agent. SAC by forty, he reminded himself.
He wrapped the words around him and tried to make them matter.
His daddy’s bitter smile flashed through his mind, a reminder of what happened to people who didn’t follow some sort of moral compass. Tess was not for him, not even for a one night stand, assuming she’d be interested in something that shallow and brief. It wasn’t her fault. It was a matter of optics and didn’t that make him feel like a sonofabitch.
But even if she was interested he couldn’t afford to be. Didn’t matter how tempted he was, the only thing that mattered was proving he knew how to do his job. Proving he was worthy of his vow and honorable enough to protect the American people, one unimpressed soul at a time.
* * *
Tess opened her eyes. Sound was muted as if she was underwater. A heavy weight pressed down on her, crushing her lungs. Thick darkness surrounded her. She couldn’t inhale enough oxygen and the air she did breathe was cloying and stale. She was hot, suffocating, buried alive. Fear drumrolled in her chest and she cried out, bucking, trying to get free.
“It’s okay. Tess. Jesus, Tess!”
Strong hands ripped away the blanket that covered her face and grabbed her shoulders.
It was still dark, but there were shadows now, shades of gray. She could move. She could breathe. Sound was muted and she finally remembered she had ear plugs in. She pulled them out as she kicked off the remaining covers, her lungs pumping, sweat making her skin clammy.
Steve McKenzie stared down at her, a dark silhouette of a man. Her heart beat sped up for a different reason.
“I couldn’t breathe. I panicked.”
“I gathered.” His voice was soft. Deep but not gruff.
She had always loved his voice. It soothed her, made the fear lessen its grip on her body that was as tense as stone.
“Sorry,” she said.
He smiled.
She reached up and stroked her hand over his jaw. Sandpaper roughness grazed her palm. She loved it.
“Tess.”
She put her finger against his full lips, feeling the heat of his mouth burn her skin. “When I was a little girl I was completely head over heels in love with you.”
The quiet of the room pressed around them.
“I know.”
She inhaled the warm scent of him. Wondered what it would be like to wake up with him every morning. Emotions squeezed her throat. Pain. Bitterness. Acceptance. “But you left me anyway.”
“Yes.”
Something glittered in his eyes as he smoothed the hair off her forehead before he leaned down to brush his lips against hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She let the silence stretch. Let their shared history settle.
“I know.” She leaned up and returned his brief butterfly kiss. Tasted him. He stiffened against her and she thought he’d retreat from her now. He didn’t. His hands still gripped her shoulders and he shifted his weight until he was lying on top of her, settling between her legs as he eased her lips apart with his.
She opened for him. Touched, tangled, explored his mouth with her lips, tongue, teeth as he did the same. Her hand slid over his shoulder and up into his short hair.
“We can’t do this,” he told her, but at the same time his hand cupped her breast and found her nipple through the soft cotton.
She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his back, feeling the ridges of muscle that flanked his spine. Her fingers found the groove in his back as he pulled her pajama top up and exposed her breast. Then he dipped his head and took the sensitive tip into his mouth and pleasure shuddered through her body, making her toes curl.
Impatiently, he dragged the top over her head and stared down at her nakedness.
Heat expanded in her chest as the cold air licked her skin. And then he was kissing her again, her nipples abrading against the cotton of his shirt, hot sparks of desire shooting right through her. She kissed him back, gripping his hair as his fingers slid down her body, pressing against her clitoris, gently stroking her. Lazily. Steadily. Like there was no need to rush. No need for haste.
Her hips rose, her body yearning for a release that was just out of reach. And still he drove her gently, refusing to change his pace until she was frantic with want and need. She held her breath as he slipped those clever fingers under the material of her pajama bottoms, but didn’t dive inside. He teased the sensitive flesh of her labia, stimulating her leisurely, keeping up a gentle motion when part of her wanted hard and fast. But hard and fast with a man had never given her an orgasm.
How did he know how to drive her crazy? How did he comprehend her body needed this when her mind wanted something else entirely?
She’d climaxed on her own but never with a partner. She could feel him hot and hard against her thigh and wanted him inside her, but what he was doing… What he was doing made every cell in her body unwind and rewind, over and over again until she couldn’t take it anymore. But she never wanted this feeling to stop.
Her body started to shake and she lost the ability to think, to process. Every sense focused on the coaxing touch between her legs.
She parted her thighs, silently begging him for what she thought she needed, but he kept on stroking her, slowly, lightly, inexorably pushing her toward that pinnacle, until she wavered on a shallow ledge.
He pressed one fingertip barely inside her as he pressed his palm against her mound and pinched her nipple harder than she expected at the exact same moment. She crashed over that edge, going into freefall as she shuddered and shook all the way to the bottom of the cliff, smashing onto the rocks in an avalanche of pleasure that made every particle of her being shatter.
As she lay there gasping he withdrew his hand and leaned down to kiss her tenderly on the lips.
He eased up into a sitting position and went to climb off the bed.
She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t you want to…”
His lips turned into a frustrated smile. “I can’t.”
Then he stood, gathering his duffle bag and heading into the bathroom, leaving her to the cold, stale air and the quiet anger of not being quite good enough.