Coming Undone (5 page)

He snorted. “Keep dreaming. I don’t do sloppy seconds.” Jesus, why was he having this inane conversation with her?

“I say you do.” She winked then opened the door and disappeared into her mother’s room before he had a chance to counteract that fucking statement.

Like he’d have anything to do with her in that way. He wasn’t interested in any of Salim’s women. But for a second there, his body had responded to her. That wasn’t a big deal. She was gorgeous woman, and he’d been using his own hands on himself for longer than he cared to admit. Of course his body would react to her. It meant nothing.

Nothing.

Only halfway back to the warehouse did everything click into place. He pounded the steering wheel with a curse. She’d disarmed him completely. Instead of giving him the opening to ask questions about what he’d witnessed, McKenna had put him on the defensive, tricking him into defending his sexuality and the nonexistent attraction to her.

She was good. Too damn good.

Chapter Four

She couldn’t think. McKenna paced her house, pulling on her hair. Damn the man for not leaving her alone. Now he knew. He knew her weakness and, like Salim, he’d use it to hurt her.

In an attempt to control her.

Goddamn it, how had this happened again? How, when she’d worked so hard to make sure it didn’t? Now she’d be under the power of these two men, and McKenna didn’t know who scared her more.

Salim or that RJ dude.

She paused in her quest to wear out the carpet and stared down at the card in her hand. They’d have to talk, this she knew. What she didn’t know was who’d be making the first move. He’d probably expect her to. After all he’d caught her, had her dead to rights. With her nerves as raw as they were at the moment, she actually contemplated calling him and demanding to know what he planned to do. What his next move was. But she wouldn’t. He didn’t need that much more ammo on her.

She was desperate, but he’d never see it.

McKenna sank onto her couch and picked up the glass of cheap red wine she’d purchased at the liquor store on the corner. Morning had turned to afternoon, and now evening, and she’d heard not a peep from RJ. Or Salim, for that matter.

Salim would be silent until his business meetings were completed for the day. He’d let one of the bodyguards give her his schedule. She was supposed to know all his moves without question. That way she’d be available when he called, and he didn’t have to wait on her. Salim hated that. She knew better than to make him wait. Nevertheless, Salim was on ice for the moment. She only had RJ to hyperventilate over.

“I need a distraction,” she said into the empty room. Getting back to her feet, she crossed the floor and sat at her desk to fire up her laptop. She might as well get started on her paper for the business management degree she’d been working hard for through an online college.

As she typed away, she smiled sadly. Her mother would have turned her nose up at that.

What good will a degree do you on the streets?
She heard those words as if her mother were in the room, chastising her.
Street smarts beat any degree, every time,
her mother would say.

That was all well and good. Then. Now she had to make a living the honest way. Step away from what she’d seen as the norm, conning, lying, fronting as someone she wasn’t. If she went the legal way, she’d have nothing to hide from, and men like RJ and Salim wouldn’t be beating down her door, trying to keep her in her place with some well-placed threats.

She brushed angrily at the tears burning her eyes. Normal. She wanted normal. Where her mother recognized her daughter, where her face lit up when McKenna walked into the room. She wanted to not go to bed worrying, to not wake up worrying. She wanted her day back, a do-over where RJ hadn’t gotten his piece of flesh, his leverage.

Most of all, she wanted a different life. One where she grew up in a stable home with a parent who didn’t make her do things McKenna wished desperately to take back.

She couldn’t go back, but she could go forward. A different way, new direction. All she had to do was outlive Salim and his shit and diffuse the RJ situation. No ideas yet on how to do either one. If she had any suspicion the truth would work on RJ, the real story, she’d share. Tell him what he wanted to know. He’d get rid of Salim and she’d be all clear, but McKenna didn’t think that would be the case.

She’d seen the way he’d looked at her mother, a brief glimpse of compassion, of
sorrow. But she didn’t trust RJ, couldn’t afford to, and she’d wait until she had something concrete. Still, something whispered in her ear, a warning that she wouldn’t come out unscathed in her dealings with RJ.

Pushing all thoughts of her fucked-up life to the backburner, she focused on her school work with
Herculean effort, losing herself in the things that she could actually solve. By the time she finished and lifted her eyes from the computer screen, night had fallen and her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d skipped any kind of meal for the day.

After placing an order for Chinese from the restaurant two blocks over, she changed out of her jeans and sweater into a pair of bright blue leggings and a white tank. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and made her way into the kitchen. Her place was small, but she did her best to keep it clean, make it homey.

It wasn’t. This wasn’t a home, but it was where she laid her head at night so she had no complaints. There’d been moments of homelessness back when she’d been a toddler and again in her early teens. She didn’t want to go back to that.

She did her dishes, cleaned the kitchen she rarely cooked in, and finished in time to greet the delivery boy when he pounded on her front door. She collapsed on the couch with her food, only to jump out of her skin when a knock sounded on her back door.

What the hell? Who the hell? She clutched the white plastic fork in her palm, a hysterical reminder of exactly how ill prepared she was to deal with a hostile someone. But would an intruder knock?

“Open up, McKenna.”

Well, shit. RJ had arrived and her appetite fled in response. She remained seated, seriously contemplating not getting up, not answering, but she didn’t peg him as the sort to simply up and leave her be.

Nope, he wouldn’t go away unless and until he got what he came for.

Shit. She placed her food down on the couch and got up, muttering under her breath.
May as well get it over with.
The sooner she dealt with him, the sooner he’d be gone for good.

She yanked open the backdoor and stared at him. Again with the hood over his head, the patch over that one eye. He was dressed differently his time, gray sweater under a tan leather coat, faded blue jeans fitting him close and boots—looked like steel-toe—in deference to the still-melting snow on the ground.

He held her gaze, his green eye solemn, deep, and something else. She stepped back from that “something else” with a scowl.

“Since when do you knock before you barge in?”

His massive shoulders moved slightly. “I do what I want.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, that makes one of us.” When he didn’t make a move to enter the house, McKenna lifted an eyebrow. “Is there something in particular you’re here to bully me into, or did you come just to stand there and stare at me?”

His lips twisted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Pushing his face up to hers, he snarled, “You’d like it if I came just to watch you. That way you could pull out your bag of tricks, try to use it on me like I’m sure you’ve done to many men countless times.”

Well, te
ll me how you feel, why don’t you?
He really thought she was a whore, and McKenna was too damn exhausted to fight him. Besides, he was right. She used her body to keep a roof over her head, food in her belly, and her mother in the best health care facility possible. And she’d continue to do it, if it meant her mother stayed where she was instead of locked up. She didn’t tell RJ that, though.

Why fuck with the shitty image he already had of her? McKenna smiled at him, right in his face, making no move to step away. “You’re protesting too loudly, RJ old boy. There’s no one here but you and me. It’s cool to admit you want to know what the fuss is about.” She winked. “I’ll bet good money you lie in your cold bed at night and wonder why Salim keeps me around. Is the kitty that good?” She lowered her voice. “I keep it tight. Military style.”

His face didn’t move, not a muscle, but his one good eye did. The pupil dilated, green rapidly disappearing under the widening pupil. Yeah, proof he wanted her, but what the hell could she do with it? What did she want to do with it? Heat unfurled in her belly, a thread unraveling, the ground under her feet suddenly unsteady.

Her lips parted and she backed up.

RJ followed her though the door, a look of utter concentration on his face. McKenna wanted to turn tail and run, but she kept her gaze on him and continued backing into her living room. He stalked her, footsteps quiet, moves calculated and sexy.

Fuck. Why was this shit happening to her now? Why was she finding this man attractive? She bumped into the wall and stopped with a gasp.

RJ crowded her, arms caging her in. He leaned close, and she caught a whiff of him, all sweat and leather and…Jesus. A sound left her throat and he growled in response.

Growled.

Her panties dampened.

He put his mouth to her ear. “I’m not Salim,” he whispered. “My life isn’t about getting laid or how many women I fuck.” His breath tickled the side of her neck, and McKenna tried desperately to hide the shivers that came with the sensation of him.

The air grew thick, tense, until she couldn’t breathe it in.

“I can be attracted to you,” RJ continued, “and not do anything about it. I don’t think with my dick, and getting to taste you is not on my to-do list.”

Maybe it should be.
The words floated across her mind, but she clamped her lips shut before they spilled out. He was right, of course, but damn if she could remember the last man who made her want to just spread 'em. How fucked was it that she knew nothing about him, didn’t trust him, but could still consider getting fucked by him?

His lips brushed her earlobe, barely, and she whimpered. He didn’t move, she didn’t breathe, and they stood there, with her panties soaked and her nipples hard and aching. Jesus Christ. Her knees knocked together. How could this happen?

“I want to know about your mother.”

RJ shattered the tension into a million pieces with those words.

McKenna blinked and tried ducking out from under his arms, but he caught her wrist, the rough pad of his fingers rasping across her skin. She swallowed a moan and turned her face away

“She’s your weakness,” RJ said. “If I can see it, then Salim already knows. Am I correct?” His words were serious, almost apologetic. She couldn’t look at him to be sure.

“I’m not talking about this with you.” She pulled away from his hold and walked into the living room, but he was right on her heels. She felt his heat.

“You have to trust someone sometime, McKenna.” The timbre of his voice rumbled, low but reaching in the
quiet. Reaching out to her. “Let me help you.”

“I do not trust you,” she spoke without looking at him. “I cannot trust someone I don’t know. That’s a mistake I will not repeat.” One of so many mistakes.
Countless. Him being in her home, inches away from her, was also a mistake. When would she learn? She sat on the couch, and picked up the container of shrimp fried rice she’d opened earlier. Her appetite was nonexistent, but she forked some into her mouth anyway. Anything to keep busy, to distract her.

“We’re at an impasse, McKenna.”

Goose pimples blanketed her arms at the way he said her name. She fidgeted. Swallowing food with a dry throat was difficult.

“I want to gain your trust. You want to gain mine.”

She snapped her head up at that, narrowing her eyes when he peered down at her. “I do not want to gain your trust.” The fuck she did.

“You want to trust me.” The corner of his mouth tilted up. “I want to trust you. We’re at an impasse. How do we bridge it?” His face had gone all soft on her, his tone controlled yet expectant.

Like she had anything to add? Nope. She dropped her gaze to the food in her lap and continued eating. He towered above her, too close for her peace of mind, too quiet for her sanity. His presence hinted at a safety she couldn’t afford to accept, but she wished she could. He was an attractive man, in a scary sort of way, but what pulled her in most were his grit and the knowledge she got, from where she didn’t know, that he was someone to count on.

“I used to be his bodyguard. Salim’s. Until he framed me and got me locked up in an Irish prison for five years.”

She swallowed in surprise then doubled over coughing when the rice went down the wrong way. Shit. RJ dropped to his knees and patted her back carefully. His hands on her…McKenna wanted to pull away from his touch. She wanted to lean into it. Hell, she wanted her head examined.

“Here.” He handed her the bottle of water at her feet, and she took a grateful sip. “Better?” He lifted an eyebrow.

She nodded in embarrassment.
“Thanks,” she croaked. Blinking moisture from her eyes, she peered at him. “Why are you telling me this?”