Chapter 14

Ella stared out the window from the big recliner, watching the fat flakes fall from an ebony sky and contemplating her next moves. She’d gone back and forth with herself for hours about whether she should just unload the truth on Jude and let the chips fall where they may. Her gut said to do it.

Her training, her word to the Piper, said don’t.

Where did training end and loving Jude begin? Was it that easy?

He was her teammate, and there was every possibility the Piper was playing games with them all, reaching for a conclusion he wanted for reasons that weren’t quite as virtuous as he’d portrayed to Ella in the beginning.

She was tired but not sleepy. She hadn’t seen Jude since he’d left the kitchen earlier. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

Jude had taught her how to love. How to trust. The Piper had taught her how to survive.

She was missing something in the puzzle though. She traced back over what she did know, ticking off every fact she’d amassed over the last year. Horace Dresden was a monster who needed to be eliminated. Endgame had been brought on two years ago to effect that outcome for the Piper. The Piper was the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He’d served as the highest-ranking official in the military world for a long time and had the ear of the Secretary of Defense and the President of the United States. He had so many contacts in the world of intelligence that he was probably more powerful than any CIA or FBI director. And he had a hard-on for Horace Dresden, the reasons beginning to seem entirely too personal for Ella’s liking.

And why did she think that? Well, there was the matter of his daughters, Cameron Markov and Anna Beth Caine, former fiancée to Horace Dresden.

Ella needed her laptop. Hell, what she really needed to do was pick Vivi Granger’s brain and resources. Nobody infiltrated information like Vivi. Ella was good, but not Vivi good.

The Piper had originally wanted to put her into Dresden’s organization so he could watch Dresden from the inside. He’d seen a way to do that when Endgame Ops team’s mission in Beirut went bad. He’d been lucky they’d survived the rocket-propelled grenade that had taken down the helicopter. He’d hit the jackpot when Dresden hadn’t allowed Savidge to kill Ella.

There were so many things the Piper hadn’t been able to control on that mission—so many potential outcomes, most of them really bad—that his willingness to go ahead and give up Endgame stank of desperation. There was also the possibility he hadn’t given up Endgame; he’d just gone with the flow.

And now Ella understood why. His daughters were on the playing field too. What was the Piper’s endgame? She’d only be able to figure it out if she knew his motivation.

Ella bit a nail as she ruminated. She really needed her laptop and a sat phone.

“Stop biting your nails,” Jude said from the doorway.

Ella allowed her smile to show as she turned her head to look at him. His arms were raised, his hands holding on to the doorjamb as he leaned casually with one leg bent at the knee. He’d showered and now wore jeans and a long-sleeved dark-green T-shirt. A sliver of tanned, muscled abdomen peeked out at her. There was something so innately sexy about that space between his jeans and the bottom of his shirt that she had no choice.

She licked her lips.

His gaze zeroed in on her movement, and he licked his own.

She almost groaned.

“I need to borrow a satellite phone,” she told him.

Jude started to shake his head, but she cleared her throat. His gaze snagged on hers, and he stopped.

“Seriously. I need one now. There’s a woman in trouble, and somehow, some way, I need to get word to someone to help her.”

“Who?” he asked succinctly.

“Brody would be nice,” Ella responded, mentally crossing her fingers that Jude would let her contact the man who’d helped her survive Dresden.

It took him a long moment of staring her down, but eventually he left and returned with a satellite phone.

“Do not tell him where you are. Make it quick,” Jude demanded.

“You’re bossier than His Highness,” Ella muttered.

“Brody is speed dial number 4.”

Ella hit 4 and waited.

“Yo, Keeper. What’s up?” Brody’s broken voice was music to Ella’s ears.

“It’s me, Brody,” Ella said around threatening tears.

What they had been through together…sometimes it promised to rise up and choke Ella.

“Goddamn it, Ella-Bella! You haven’t contacted me in a week! A week! Where the hell are you?”

Ella smiled. Brody took that whole handler moniker pretty seriously. When the Piper discovered Brody had survived as well, he’d immediately recruited her big teammate to become her handler. Once he’d agreed, Brody couriered information between the Piper and Ella when they were unable to meet in person. He’d also stepped up into the role of bodyguard. Hence the anger she was getting from him now.

“Stop yelling at me, Madoc. Big girl here. I’ve got this,” she told him firmly.

“Then what do you need? Word on the street is that you’ve left Dresden, and he’s got the hard-on of all hard-ons looking for you. Where are you, Ella?”

“Safe,” she whispered, sneaking a glance at Jude.

He made a wrap-it-up motion with his hand.

“Look, Dresden has a woman in the cellars. She needs evac immediately, Brody. He’s going to end up killing her if we don’t get to her soon,” Ella pushed out.

“I need more than that, Ella. Who is this woman? Why is she important?” Brody asked.

“Hurry up, El,” Jude growled, now standing in front of her.

“I don’t have time for that now. Do what you do, Brody. I’m going to send you some information when I disconnect, and I’ll touch base with you in a few hours and give you more. Right now, I need you either prepping a resource or getting your ass to Ukraine to help her yourself.”

“Damn it,” Brody said on a heavy sigh. “You’re a pain in my ass, Banning.”

“One more thing, Madoc.” Ella breathed out. “Tell the Piper that Dresden has Anna. He’ll know who you’re talking about. Hell, he may even give you the details I haven’t amassed yet because that’s the woman Dresden has in the cellar. Ring this phone once you’ve landed in Ukraine, okay?”

“You owe me, dropping this in my lap and hanging up,” Brody said darkly. Then, “It’s good to hear your voice. I worry.”

“No need, Madoc. We’ve survived worse.”

Ella disconnected and let out a long breath.

“I need a laptop,” she said baldly.

“No.” Simple answer.

It pissed her off, his continuous resistance to letting her have the tools she needed to do her job. “I need a laptop, Jude,” she reiterated.

“No,” he answered again.

“Damn it, Jude!” she said, coming to her feet in a rush.

He walked into the room and stopped in front of her. “Give me a truth, Ella.”

She huffed. “I need a laptop. There’s a truth for you,” she bit out in frustration.

He laughed at her and then reached for her, tracing her lower lip with his forefinger. Then he stepped closer to her, bringing them chest to chest. “Why do you need a laptop? And what’s going on with this mystery woman Brody needs to save?”

“I need to search, and I’ll tell you everything once I have it all together,” she replied automatically, the need to find the truth damn near making her shudder. Or was that the proximity to Jude? Both maybe?

Yes.

“For what?” he asked, continuing to trace her lip.

“Huh?”

“What do you need to search for?” he asked again.

She stomped her foot. “You’re like a dog with a bone!”

“Only if the bone is five four and curvy as hell, with eyes that melt like frost in the sun,” he responded calmly.

“Do you have any chocolate?” she asked suddenly.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Yes.”

“I need it and the laptop. Meet me in the living room,” she demanded before she headed to the bathroom.

He caught her hand as she tried to pass, and before she could blink, his lips were on hers.

“Open up to me,” he pleaded.

She did.

He moved so gently, his lips covering her in a whisper, his tongue tracing, licking. It was nothing like the kiss they’d shared in Moscow. That had been heat and need and anger. Desperation.

This one was soft, pleading, holding too much emotion for words. He sipped at her, careful of her bruised face, loving her lips even as his tongue requested permission to enter her mouth completely.

She gave it, sucking on him, tasting him. She heard herself moan, felt his body harden, and knew she was going to lose herself to him.

Wait, he demanded only truth, and that had to begin with herself. She had to acknowledge this truth—that she was already lost.

He pulled away slowly and made his way out of the room with a husky chuckle. Ella went into the bathroom, ran some cold water, and splashed her face. She needed to cool down, get her mind right. Eventually, she took the same path Jude had, still in the fog of the heat he built in her so effortlessly as she slowly descended the stairs.

She stopped on a step and watched him. He sat on one of the leather couches, and on the low coffee table in front of him sat a laptop and a Hershey bar. His big body leaned back against the leather as if he hadn’t a care in the world, and the vixen in her responded. Yes, she had responsibilities—Anna Beth Caine, finding out who was controlling Dresden, figuring out what the Piper was doing—and they weighed on her. But she needed this with Jude. She needed what she found inside his arms to cement her to the present and make everything real.

His chest rose and fell as his fingers drummed on the back of the couch. His eyes were closed, the black depths of them hidden to her. She could lose herself in him for a little while—remember her reason for setting out on her journey a year ago. It was all about Jude.

Need thrummed through her, poignant and heartbreaking. She knew what she had to do. Slowly, she reached up and pulled her hair down from its ponytail. Ella wasn’t as weak as he thought her to be.

And she was about to put something on him he’d never forget.

* * *

It was late. She should be asleep, resting to refuel her body and heal. Instead she was up, thinking, plotting. Jude could practically smell it on her. She only bit her nails when she had a puzzle to solve—it was the analyst in her. She hated conundrums and had to solve them, determine every last piece and its place, before her brain would give her rest.

She’d demanded a satellite phone. He’d given it to her when everything in him said not to. He didn’t want a soul knowing anything about her or her whereabouts. He’d given in because his Ella was fierce when she demanded something. Then she wanted a laptop.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d give her his, but only after he knew what she was searching for. Give and take. That’s what they were now. Until he could trust her anyway. Or until she trusted him.

And now she walked toward him like every wet dream he’d ever had. Dressed in sweats and one of his ratty New Mexico State sweatshirts, with beautiful dark-chestnut hair down around her shoulders, she was a vision. He didn’t even see the bruises on her face, because all he knew was Ella.

His cock hardened behind his fly. Instead of acting on it, he nodded to the laptop. She looked conflicted for a few seconds but eventually grabbed the computer and sat across from him. Within two minutes, she’d handled whatever business she’d needed to—and he’d be asking her about that shortly—before closing the laptop.

She stood once again, teeth worrying her lower lip, tongue sliding along the curve of it. Heat flowed into his extremities, and he sat forward. But she didn’t hesitate, coming directly to him and pushing his shoulders until he reclined once again, before she climbed up onto his lap.

Goddamn.

She sank against him, aligning her core with his jean-covered hardness and rotating her hips just once. She played the move off as if she was simply settling, but he knew her. Knew her wants. Knew how she moved.

She tugged on his T-shirt until he lifted it over his head, and then her hands were all over him, stroking down his pecs, nails scraping his nipples. He groaned and she laughed, the sound a spear to his midsection because it was so damn sexy. His fingers flexed on her thighs, and she bit her lip. Then she settled her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging in, yet another indication of her need.

Ella lowered her head to his, her mouth hovering over his, sweet breath fanning his face. “Let me give you a truth, Jude.”

He moved his hands to her hips, and he nearly gave in to the temptation to move her over him, back and forth, until they both yelled in release. “I’m here,” he said in lieu of acting on his baser urge.

“You were the last thing I saw before Savidge shot me. I watched your face, saw your horror, and knew I was about to die. You were my last thought before my new existence began.”

He hissed in a breath, pain knifing his gut, rendering him incapacitated in the face of her words. “What was it?”

She cocked her head, still hovering right at his lips, so close he could taste her. “What was what?”

“Your last thought.”

Another infinitesimal centimeter eliminated as she lowered even more, hips fully cradling him now, fingers still digging in deep. “I love you.”

God, he’d never experienced pain like what she’d just given him. It was horrible. It was beautiful. Her truth was redemption. He lifted, taking her mouth firmly, swiftly moving to her neck, licking, tasting any inch of her skin she’d allow.

His hands took over, moving her over his hardness, seeking to meld it into her skin. She moaned, and he answered her with a harsh groan. He pushed her sweatshirt up, then her bra, then he just looked at her.

He’d uncovered smooth, creamy skin. His. All his. “Mine,” he growled. He watched her eyes as he lowered his mouth to her breast. Then she closed those gray orbs with irises like shattered glass, and he took her nipple in his mouth. She cried out as if her need were a violent thing seeking escape. Her hands settled in his hair, tugging, pulling, pushing.

He smiled against her, and then he let himself do nothing but feel—the softness of her skin, the pebble of her nipple, the ripest, sweetest of berries. He kissed the area over her heart before he began laving attention on each mound, unable to pull away, her cries in his ears, her taste and smell dominating his senses.

Her hips writhed over his even as he pushed up, trying to alleviate the bittersweet pain in his cock.

He reached for the drawstring of the sweatpants and lifted her slightly as he pushed the pants and her panties down one leg, baring her to his gaze. Her downy brownish-black curls taunted him. He gazed at her there, splayed over his lap, legs on either side of his, pussy open and hot. He could feel her heat through his jeans and wanted nothing more than to release his cock and impale her on it, move her over him until they both released.

Reverence slid through him, peaceful and calming. His need didn’t abate, but for this moment, he would please her and show her everything he felt for her with his mouth and hands.

“Please,” she whispered brokenly.

He’d heard that word from her too much. She’d never beg him for anything else ever again.

Slowly, half afraid it was all a dream, he moved his hand to her opening, sliding a single finger through her folds until the center of her heat was right there. He touched her, her wetness coating his finger, easing his way inside her body. Her hips moved, allowing him greater access.

She opened like a flower above him. So much heat. He wanted to taste her there, but with her head thrown back, her chest flushed, and his need hammering at him, he needed her to finish before he blew his top.

One finger surrounded by her warmth. Her body milked him, and he added a finger. Her breath blew out roughly, and she keened softly. Her head bowed, hair hiding her face from him as her chin came to rest on her bunched-up sweatshirt. With his other hand, he pushed her back until he could wrap his hand gently around her neck, holding her head up so he could watch her eyes as she exploded. Her hair was silk against his skin.

Had he ever wanted this badly?

With one hand between her legs and one around her neck, Jude worked Ella. She was so damn tight, clenching and releasing around his fingers. He sank deep, hitting the spot he’d longed for, and her eyes closed.

“Open them,” he demanded.

Her mouth opened first, on a gasp saturated with sex and desire. Her eyes followed, locking on his, and in them was every emotion he’d missed from her during the last year—need, love, joy, pain, frustration, followed quickly by need again. She was spiraling tighter, her body moving faster on his hand, her chest rising and falling, her nipples hard and begging for his mouth.

His tortured cock cursed him. Through it all, he watched her. Ella. His lady. The absolute love of his life.

“Give me another truth, Ella,” he ordered, his tone soft but uncompromising. “I need your truths, baby.”

“There are too many,” she pushed out around a moan.

“Give me the most important one,” he pleaded.

Her body rippled, their fire burning her up from the inside out. He scissored his fingers once and then swirled her wetness around her clit. One more entrance into her body, one caress of his index finger against her chin, and Ella gave in, crying out in her pleasure, her body undulating as it sought the last vestiges of pleasure from his hand.

She never looked away from him, their gazes locked, and in that moment he was both proud of her strength and humbled that she’d given herself over to him. She was magnificent in her release.

Slowly, because this was part of his reward for not taking more than she was ready to give him, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers. “Beautiful,” he said when finished.

“You’ll take it all, won’t you?” she asked.

He nodded. “But don’t worry, Ella. I’ll give it back tenfold.”

It was a vow from his heart.

She collapsed against his chest and snuggled, legs still spread over his, her core against him once again. She fit so perfectly in his arms. God, he’d missed this. More than being inside her, just holding her, being wrapped up in her.

He shook his head and wiped his eyes.

“Another truth, hmm?” she asked and sounded as if she was moments away from sleep.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he told her. “Give it to me, El.”

“I dream of you, even when I’m awake. I never let you go, Jude.”

Her voice was so low that he wondered if she’d said what he thought she had.

A shuddering breath left her limp against him, and he knew she’d gone to sleep.

With her words, she put a piece of him back in place. It was a piece he’d been missing since she’d “died.” He somehow managed to get her pants completely off, and then he started to work on her shirt. Once he’d removed those and her bra, he settled her against him and then lay down with her.

Jude pulled the throw over them both and finally relaxed. A sigh escaped him at the skin-to-skin contact. Outside, the wind howled and the sky wept snow. Inside, Jude held his woman in his arms. For now, his world was right.