Ryan leaned toward Carson slowly and this time she didn’t push him away. Her throat flexed and he could almost hear her gulp for air. There was a nervous, aroused energy coming off her he dug.

Carson was authentic. There were no airs, no performance.

He kissed her cheek and cupped the back of her head.

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

Her skin grew warmer. Was she blushing?

She turned her face. Just a bit, but it was all she needed to press her lips to his in a sweet kiss.

It was his turn to groan. She was too damn good for him. He should stay in his corner and keep his hands to himself. But he couldn’t. He’d never been that type of guy.

“What if they do come home?” Carson sat back.

Ryan shoved to his feet, dragging her up with him.

He led her down the hall and into his bedroom where he kicked the door shut. In the near darkness he reached for her, grabbing her around the waist. He’d show her they could be good for each other. Perhaps this could work out in the best way possible.

Her body tensed and she flattened her hands on his chest.

Too fast.

“Better?” he asked and kept his distance.

“Yes.” Her fingers curled against him and her arms relaxed.

He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them.

Her chin tilted up and her hands slid up over his shoulders. The risk of his roommates interrupting now was gone. They’d know better than to come knocking.

“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb swiping over her parted lips.

He felt the hitch in her breathing more than he heard it.

She wasn’t against the idea, but she wasn’t exactly begging for it either.

“Is this a good idea?” Her breathless voice sent a surge of arousal straight to his groin. It didn’t matter what she said, it was how she said it.

“I think it’s a great idea.” He dug his fingers into her hair, loosening the elastic holding the bun in place.

“A-are you sure?” A wavering note made him pause.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“That’s not a no.” But it also wasn’t a yes, and he needed her to want him.

“I don’t want you to regret things.”

Fuck if that didn’t hit him in the gut.

She was a better human being than he was.

“Sugar, I’d never regret you.” He kissed her cheek.

He took a small step closer, bringing their bodies into contact, and lowered his head. She stood frozen to the spot, her nervous energy teasing him.

This was going to be fun.

Ryan sealed his lips over hers and leaned into her. He took another step, carrying her with him, walking her backward until he had her pinned between him and the wall. She held onto his shoulders, no longer pushing him away.

He wanted to remember, to know what it was like to be with her. To make her groan and whimper, sigh and moan. He bent and grasped her by the thighs, lifting her until she had no choice but to wrap her legs and arms around him. Her nails bit into his skin and her calves flexed, holding him tighter, as if she were afraid he’d let her fall.

“Ryan...” She leaned her head back.

He bent and kissed down her neck, tasting her skin.

No cherry flavor there.

She turned her face toward him, finding his mouth with hers. There was no longer any hesitation. Her hand pressed against the back of his neck and her lips slid against his, her tongue teased his.

He’d never met a woman more concerned with him and what he wanted. He didn’t know what to do with that. Of all the women in all the bars, Carson was the one he’d fucked up with. And this might just be the best damn thing to have ever happened to him.

Shit.

She was pregnant.

And he’d just tossed her up against the wall.

What if he hurt her? Or the child?

He had to be careful. The rules had changed, and so would he.

Ryan gently cradled her against him and turned toward the bed. Carson continued to kiss him, oblivious to his revelation. He prayed he didn’t trip over anything left in the floor as he shuffled across the room until his knees bumped the bed. He allowed himself to shove his concerns to the back of his mind and just enjoy her kissing him. He lay her down on the still-rumpled sheets from last night and her death grip around his hips eased. Ryan braced his hands on the bed and stood there, one knee on the bed, her looking back up at him. The sound of her breathing was sweet, encouraging. Light glinted off her eager eyes and her hand coasted back up his arm.

He’d fucked up a lot in his life, but somehow he’d managed to find her. She was going to be it for him. He could feel it in his gut. Everything from here on had to matter. He couldn’t go back in time and fix things or make their first time special. All he could do was vow to do better going forward.

Carson sat up, forcing him to kneel with one knee on the bed. Even in the relative darkness he could see a change in her, in the way she looked at him. She grasped his shirt and pushed it up. He whisked the garment off and let it fall to the floor. In that short amount of time her shirt had disappeared, and she sat there in yoga pants and a bra.

This was on.

She reached for him, but he had other ideas. Things he wanted to make sure he remembered. Ryan took her hands and laced their fingers together. He leaned forward until he could press the back of her wrists to the bed. She gave up and lay back, staring up at him with her hair spread out on the sheets.

Moments like these he wanted to remember.

Ryan slid down a little then bent forward. He kissed her, starting at the top of her sternum and working his way up her neck. He could feel her erratic heartbeat against his lips and the flex of her throat. He pressed a chaste kiss to her parted lips.

“Stay there,” he whispered.

“Or what?”

He chuckled.

Carson had a little spunk in her. That quiet, shy girl act wasn’t going to work on him after this.

Ryan hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her pants, kissing her soft stomach. She sucked in a breath and her hands moved restlessly against the sheets. Her nerves were showing through. That was what he liked about the shy ones, they wanted in a way that was honest.

He slid the stretchy material down her legs until all she wore were her panties and bra. They even matched. Black satin with little cream bows at the front of each. He knelt next to the bed and slid his hands up her thighs. Her skin was smooth. Soft. Still, the only thing that tasted of cherries were her lips.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down her legs.

She hadn’t even dared to move. Did she realize that? It probably didn’t even occur to her to break the rules. He’d corrupt her over time and enjoy the hell out of every minute.

Ryan kissed her knee, her thigh, listening to the way her breathing hitched. Her whole body was sensitized and primed.

“Ryan,” she whimpered his name and stretched her hand toward him.

He had plans, but the sound of need laced with his name made it clear that her needs had to be met. That was the deal now, Carson first, everything else second. He shoved the rest of his clothes off in a rush and crawled up to lie next to Carson. She turned toward him before he could reach for her, wrapping her arms around him. Her eager little lips kissed his shoulder and neck. He hooked his arm around her waist, dragging her as close to him as he could get. Her warmth seeped into him as their lips found each other in the dark.

The taste test would have to wait.

He reached between them and cupped her mound. She gasped as his fingers slid through her folds and her arousal dampened his skin. She nuzzled his cheek, her soft lips caressing him, sliding toward his mouth. The moment her lips brushed his he thrust a finger inside of her. That little moan was music to his ears. Her body undulated, driving him deeper and her hands slid over his chest and arms.

Her kisses turned eager as he finger fucked her, rubbing against the sensitive walls of her channel. How did he not remember this? How drunk had he been?

The sex couldn’t have been that great. He sure as hell wanted to make that much up to her. Show her what it could be like.

“R-Ryan,” she whispered. Her hands tightened, nails digging into him.

Her pussy constricted around his fingers and she groaned, head tilted back, lips working soundlessly.

God damn. That was an orgasm.

Her hips rocked a few times, then grew still. He slid his hand out from between her legs. She’d need a moment to recover, then he could start again. His dick wasn’t crazy about that, but it would be worth it in the end.

Carson reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock.

Holy shit.

Ryan groaned as she stroked him with a firm, purposeful grip. There was nothing hesitant about the way she handled him.

“Fuck,” he groaned against her mouth.

The shyness was wearing off, at least for a few moments.

Ryan pushed up and reached for the top drawer of his night stand. He grabbed a condom and ripped it open before realizing...they didn’t exactly need it anymore. Then again no condom was how they got into this mess. Now wasn’t the time to have a conversation about should they, shouldn’t they. He wasn’t going to rock the boat. He rolled the latex on and reached for her, reaching for him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex and his focus wasn’t having the best damn orgasms. Now, what he craved was being closer to her. Yes, he wanted to give her pleasure, but more than that he wanted what they could be. He wanted all his broken bits to not matter, to be someone else, and she was his chance.

Ryan thrust into her and she gasped, curling her arms over his shoulders. He buried his face against her neck and rocked into her body. The rest of the world faded away and all that mattered was right now with this woman.

They shared something special, something he hadn’t known he wanted until now.

Maybe it was crazy to want more, to think about a future with a woman he’d known for a day, but he didn’t care. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting on, and he was going to hold on with everything he had.

Carson whimpered and dug her nails into his back. Her back arched, lifting her breasts toward his face.

Already?

Damn.

He clutched her and thrust, losing himself in the feel of her and what they could be.

This was the beginning of something new, and he wasn’t going to let go.

SENATOR JOE NEILSON paced his hotel room. He hadn’t let go of the drone photograph since it had passed into his possession.

Jules was alive.

For the last four, almost five, years his sister’s status as a prisoner had fluctuated. At times someone might admit she was captured. Others, they didn’t know who she was. Every now and then someone had heard about her through someone else.

Despite Joe’s efforts to push for her return he’d run up against a brick wall with the Secretary of State’s office through two administrations. Everyone agreed that it was too risky to try and bring her home when she’d gotten herself into this mess.

But it was perfectly acceptable to bomb the country and rattle swords?

Joe stared out at the city of Seattle.

He’d gone into politics because he didn’t trust anyone else to do the job right. His platform was one of honesty to the point that he’d hurt his ratings more than a few times by speaking his truth. Ethics were important to him. Without a strong, moral compass he couldn’t make the right decisions.

Time and time again he’d failed his sister because the greater good had to win out.

Over the last year he’d assumed Jules was dead. She wasn’t young. The people who’d captured her wouldn’t have her best interest at heart. He’d failed her.

Except now a man who hadn’t even told Joe his name said he could get Jules back, but at the cost of ignoring the rules.

The system had failed his sister. Could he keep doing the same thing to her?

While Joe lived a comfortable life with his wife and kids, his sister was hanging on in one of the worst parts of the world. That she was still alive, after all this time, was no doubt a miracle.

He couldn’t keep failing her.

Joe flipped the photograph over. Scrawled in neat print was a phone number. Still no name.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

The line rang. And rang.

Was it too late? Should he have made the decision to act in the moment?

“Hallo?” a man said.

“I’m trying to get a hold of a friend of mine. He gave me this number?”

“It’s nice to hear from you,” the mysterious voice said.

“I was thinking about our conversation. Giving it some more thought. I’d like a friend I can count on. One I can trust.”

Joe closed his eyes, a small part of him withering. This was for his sister.

BEN PICKED A YOGURT out of Carson’s refrigerator. Three hours and his password breaker was still running. There was no sign of Carson, and judging from the lack of toiletries in the bathroom, she was gone. Which meant he was free to cool his heels here for now.

Come Monday he’d be in hot water, which meant he needed access to his accounts today. He could fly out tomorrow and be set to retire. Returning funds to clients wouldn’t be a pleasant experience, but they’d rather have the money than be up a creek and in trouble with the FBI.

He grabbed a spoon from the dishwasher and pealed the top of the yogurt off.

In the year he’d worked with Carson he hadn’t learned much about her.

She was professional. Detail oriented. They’d had a few close calls when she looked too closely at things, but overall he’d been pleased with her performance. He could do with another Carson in his life.

Except he was getting out of this line of business.

The laptop beeped across the room and the screen threw bright light up against the wall.

Ben crossed the room and stared at a black and white stripe desktop.

He was in.

He sat on the sofa and pulled the laptop toward him.

This was going to work.

He plugged the web portal for the bank into a browser bar and hit enter. He then opened a new browser and typed in a web address he’d used when he was an employee. While his official login wouldn’t work, his backup should.

The user name and password were branded into his mind. He tapped them out, hit enter and held his breath.

A plain, gray screen with tabs and buttons popped up.

Holy shit, it’d worked.

Ben quickly plugged in the numbers for his personal accounts. Those would be the smallest numbers he dealt with. Transferring the funds was a mere handful of keystrokes.

He had to do this fast if he was going to make a break with it all.

The list of client accounts were jotted down on a piece of paper. It was the last thing he’d used his cell phone for before ditching it.

He typed in the largest account currently under his name.

The resulting account was grayed out.

What the heck?

He typed in the account using the generalized search, but the same account was untouchable.

Shit.

He tried anther account. And anther. His jabs on the keys grew harder and more frantic.

Every one of his other accounts were inaccessible.

Why hadn’t his back door code worked? Was it because his personal account predated the creation? Was it a personal versus business account problem? What was the deal?

He tried each one last time before admitting defeat.

Ben was screwed.

At best, he could run with his savings to try and hide somewhere. How long would that work?

Which was worse?

Running from the FBI?

Or running from his clients?

The FBI would use him to get to his clients with no regard for Ben’s life. They’d take everything they could get.

His clients on the other hand, they wouldn’t take kindly to having their money effectively stolen. They would blame Ben. Some might understand that this was the risk of doing business as they did, but the others? They wouldn’t understand.

“Shit.”

Ben closed the windows and wiped the browser history. He sat back on the sofa, reeling under the utter lack of direction. He stared at the desktop, the neat lines marching from side to side.

A single file folder occupied the space. It was marked, Recordings.

Recordings of what? Homemade sex tapes?

He wished.

Ben clicked the folder.

A half dozen media files, each labeled with the name Walker and a date.

They were all recent.

He clicked one out of curiosity. Anything to take the weight off his shoulders.

The speakers crackled.

“Hello, Agent Walker,” Carson’s steady voice said.

“What the fuck?” Ben muttered.

“Have you considered our offer?” a man, the Agent Walker, asked.

“It’s not much of an offer,” Carson replied.

“We’re being awfully generous considering the charges.”

It was Carson.

The feds had nailed his ass because of her.

They’d followed the money, and she’d caved.

He had to run. Now. If the feds had this much on him, they wouldn’t rest until they’d taken everything Ben had built. His chances were better running than staying.

CARSON GLANCED UP AND down the street, but nothing stuck out to her as strange. Would she even know what constituted as strange?

The front door whisked open without her ringing the doorbell of the condo.

“Who are you and what have you done with Carson?” Jessica stood on the tile floor still in her pajamas in all of her Monday morning glory.

“Are you seriously skipping work again?” Carson sighed and slid into the condo past her friend.

“I’m working from home now.”

“Are you working, or working?” Carson glanced over her shoulder at Jessica.

“Gah, mom. Ease up, will you?” Jessica gave her a playful shove up the stairs. “Coffee? Hungry? Where are you headed?”

“Actually, I decided I’m doing half days this week.” Carson figured it would be easier to lie low if she wasn’t at her expected client meetings or the office.

“To do what?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She swallowed down the mix of emotions. Ever since Ryan had led her into the bedroom last night, she’d been off balance.

“Yeah?” Jessica sat on the sofa and gestured for Carson to join her.

This conversation was either going to be a breeze or a nightmare. Jessica had much the same routine as Ryan. Lots of partying and lots of boyfriends.

Carson had debated not telling Jessica, to keep this fling with Ryan a secret, but she couldn’t. Jessica was possibly Carson’s only real friend.

“Do you remember that guy a few weeks ago? Ryan the Marine?” Carson set her things down and perched on the edge of the sofa.

“Uh, yeah.” Jessica chuckled and her eyes went wide.

“Were you still into him?”

“I wish. He’s not that kind of guy though.”

“Well, I went out with him.” Carson braced herself for the fallout of that admission.

Jessica stared at her, eyes wide and mouth open. “You—what?”

“It just kind of happened. I’m sorry.”

“You went out with him? The guy I hit on at a bar?” Jessica’s face scrunched up. “I don’t know what to say about that.”

“It’s weird, I know.” Carson closed her eyes. “I can’t not tell you, because—that’s shitty. But I don’t know how you feel about it. I don’t want to hide this from you.”

“You know he’s a player, right? He might not call you again. He could break your heart. That’s not the kind of guy who is going to go your speed, Car.” Jessica crossed her legs and twisted to fully face Carson. “He’s not my anything. Do I feel weird about this? Yes. I wish you’d have said something. I can totally hook you up with guys. Please, let me do that instead of messing with him.”

“I wasn’t looking for anything. I’m not looking for anything. This just kind of...happened.”

“Why can’t that just kind of happen with the right kind of guy?” Jessica laughed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to her chest.

“You aren’t mad at me?”

“Shocked, yes. Mad, no. Did you sleep with him?”

“I—uh...”

“You did.” Jessica’s eyes went wide. “Any version of this conversation is going to be weird.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Carson slid down on the sofa, relief making her body go lax.

“Yes, please.” Jessica chuckled. “Wait—how’d you two even hook up?”

“I left my pen pouch at the bar. It must have come out or something.” Carson had rehearsed this line. Delivering it soured her momentary joy, but that was the nature of the game right now. “He was there. We talked.”

“And then talking led do... Yeah, I don’t want to have this conversation. You and your planner shit. Of course that’s how you hook a guy.”

Carson sighed and stared up at the ceiling. She’d come here for some clothes and things that had accumulated at Jessica’s house. The FBI hadn’t yet given her the all clear, and she didn’t have enough to wear for too many more days. Going to her place was possibly the most dangerous thing she could do right now.

This was all supposed to be over, but she had the sinking feeling it wasn’t.

How much longer could she keep this ruse going?