Midnight Captive (18 page)

Christ, he just wanted to get out of there. He wanted to see Bailey.

Ignoring the smacking of flesh and the prostitute’s squeal of pain, Sean marched out of the room without looking back.

*   *   *

Sean was angry. Bailey sensed it the second he strode into the apartment, but he snubbed her completely, not
even a look in her direction as he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

When the shower came on, she released a frustrated breath. Why should she care if he couldn’t be bothered to say hello to her? She was just his pretend girlfriend, after all.

Except . . . damn it . . . she
did
care. She hated being shut out, even though she knew damn well she was doing the same to him.

She marched into the bathroom without knocking, her pulse kicking up a notch from the sight of Sean’s naked body in the transparent shower stall.

His head turned, gaze locking with hers through the glass. “What do you want?”

Anger spiked in her blood as she threw open the door. Water slid down his muscular body in soapy rivulets, clinging to his pecs and abs, sliding lower, to his . . . no, she refused to glance south. No doubt he was sporting a raging hard-on. The man was virile and sexual and too damn tempting.

She raised her voice over the rush of water. “What happened tonight?”

“Nothing.” He glided the bar of soap lower, lathering the groin she was making a pointed effort not to look at.

“Is the bombing all set to go?” she said sarcastically.

“Yes.” He turned toward the spray to rinse off the soap, flashing her his bare ass.

Damn it, he had a great ass. Not one of those pancake butts you couldn’t grab onto, but round and taut and delicious. She could still feel those firm buttocks flexing beneath her fingers when he thrust inside her.

Focus.

Right, this was not the time to be ogling the man’s backside, no matter how spectacular it was.

“You’re really going through with it?” she demanded.

He kept his back turned and said, “Yes.” The tone of his voice brooked no argument.

Bailey spun on her heel and left the bathroom before she gave in to the urge to smack him.

A car bomb. He’d agreed to plant a damn car bomb and it didn’t faze him in the slightest.

She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and distracted herself by checking the screen, but Daniels hadn’t texted her back. Since she’d had time on her hands tonight, she’d spent hours poring over the copies of Flannery’s files, until she’d finally located the CIA’s potential rat. She’d sent Daniels the information and he’d said he would check it out, but the man was taking his time getting back to her.

Not that she cared. If it were up to her, she’d be just peachy never hearing from Isaac Daniels again. But she owed him for giving her the heads-up about Vanessa.

And talk about someone else taking their sweet-ass time—the director of her mother’s facility was dragging his heels on the transfer. Ironically, it was the security measures Bailey had implemented in the first place that were coming back to bite her in the ass. Dr. Levinson insisted she had to sign the permission papers in person, which she couldn’t exactly do at the moment. Luckily, there were three CIA agents watching the premises, and Flannery’s thug didn’t seem inclined to make a move, but she would feel better once Vanessa was off Flannery’s radar.

Sean reentered the living room a few minutes later. Buck naked. He’d dried off, but his hair was still wet, droplets clinging to the short blond strands and falling on his forehead.

When Bailey didn’t speak, a frustrated noise rumbled out of his mouth. “What the hell do you want me to say, Bailey? They’re going to plant that bomb whether or not
I help them. Cillian’s watching me like a hawk and reporting everything I say back to Flannery. Rabbit’s watching me just as hard. So yeah, hard place, meet rock. That’s where I’m fucking at right now, okay?”

He sounded so upset that her anger thawed, replaced by a reluctant pang of sympathy. She supposed he didn’t want to be in this situation any more than she did.

“Oliver checked in earlier,” she told him. “He tracked down Flannery’s hush-hush Dublin address, a mansion in Dalkey. He’s trying to get his hands on the blueprints and security protocol.”

“Yeah, he texted me the same thing.”

Sean disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of water. She watched his corded throat work as he drank, and then her gaze moved lower, resting on bare chest, and even lower, focusing on the long cock jutting from his groin.

“Are you going to put some clothes on?” she blurted out.

“No. Are you going to take yours off?”

“No.”

“Right. Of course not.”

His surly tone annoyed her. “What, you think I’m going to throw myself into your arms and beg you to fuck me?”

“You won’t have to beg. Just say the word and I’ll be inside you again.” His hooded eyes roamed her body as if he could see right through her clothing. Hot and sultry and gleaming with promise.

Bailey gulped.

He shrugged. “It’s all right, luv. I know you won’t say it.”

“I just don’t see the point in having sex again when we both know this isn’t going anywhere.”

“If you say so.”

She clenched her teeth. “What do you care anyway?
You wanted one night, remember? You wanted me to know who I was with,” she mimicked. “And I did. You got what you wanted.”

Something indecipherable crossed his eyes, but she couldn’t for the life of her interpret that cryptic look.

“What is it now?” she muttered.

Sean set down his glass and advanced on her like a predator. A very naked, very determined predator.

“I’m just wondering how long you’re going to keep lying to me. I mean, I know why you are, but I’m curious to see how far you’ll take it.”

“As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His mouth curved in a smile. “You knew who I was last year.”

Panic jolted through her, bringing a swift denial. “I didn’t—”

“You
knew
,” he interrupted. “You knew from the second I walked into your hotel room to the moment I came inside you.”

Before she could avert her eyes, he grasped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“You knew I wasn’t Oliver. You pretended to be shocked and horrified when I told you afterward, but you were faking it, weren’t you, Bailey?”

She could have tried to lie again. But what was the point? Sean had clearly figured out the truth, and he’d only keep pushing her if she didn’t own up to it.

“Yes.” She exhaled in a rush. “I knew.”

Triumph flared in his eyes. His thumbnail scraped the edge of her jaw, slow and sensual. “Don’t worry, luv. I’m not angry with you. I understand why you lied. You needed to give yourself an out.”

She tried to back away, but his fingers curled around the nape of her neck, rooting her in place.

“You wanted to fuck me but you couldn’t let me know
it, could you? Because that would mean admitting that I could get to you, that I made you feel things my brother never made you feel. But you found yourself a loophole, didn’t you, baby? You took what you wanted from me that night, and then you pleaded ignorance.” He mocked her with his tone. “You’re scared of me, Bailey.”

Her gaze flew to his. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re not scared—you’re bloody
terrified
. You’re terrified of how good I make you feel. You think it gives me power over you.”

She sucked in a shaky breath.

“But for a smart woman, you’re pretty fucking dense sometimes.” His hand dropped from her neck. “Don’t you know by now that you have just as much power over me?”

Bailey blinked in surprise, but Sean had already walked away, ducking into the hallway as she stood there, struggling to breathe. She didn’t hear the bedroom door close, but the mattress squeaked as if he was stretching out on the bed.

It occurred to her that he hadn’t offered her the use of the bedroom this time, though that was probably because he’d known she’d reject the idea. Sleeping on the couch allowed her to keep him at arm’s length.

But there’d be no sleep for her anytime soon. It was only eleven, and she wasn’t tired. She listened to the sounds of traffic on the street below them, trying to make sense of everything he’d said. He was right. She
did
have power. And not just to turn him on. She had the power to choose how much of herself to give him. The power to push him away if he got too close.

Her wobbly legs carried her to the bedroom before she even realized it.

“What do you want now?”

His deep voice drifted toward her in the darkness. He
was a shadowy blur on the mattress, but she could feel his gaze burning into her.

She sighed. “Can we please just call a truce?”

“We’re not at war, Bailey. You’re the only one who’s fighting.”

She approached the bed, uncertain, unhappy. She sat on the edge and fumbled for the lamp on the night table; she located the switch, and pale yellow light flooded the room, revealing Sean’s naked body. His cloudy expression.

Bailey took a breath. “I fight you because . . .” She searched for words. “Because . . . I just do. You piss me off.”

His lips quirked. “I piss everyone off.”

“I hate being kept out of the loop,” she admitted. “You’re always shutting me out or keeping me in the dark. I don’t like it, okay?”

“Christ, don’t you get it?
I
hate that you’re caught up in this mess. This bloody mess that I shouldn’t even be in. I have no loyalty to Rabbit
or
Flannery, yet I’m stuck between them like the damn meat in a really shitty sandwich.” He rubbed his eyes, his voice coming out hoarse. “I’m gonna have to kill him, Bailey.”

“Which one?”

“Flannery, for now.” He groaned. “But certain measures need to be in place before I do it. I want Ollie somewhere safe. You. The others.” He paused. “Your mother.”

“I’m arranging for a transfer,” she reminded him.

He searched her face, a crease of hesitation furrowing his brow. “Does . . . does she really have Alzheimer’s?”

Bailey’s throat tightened, making it hard to speak. So she settled for a nod.

“I’m sorry, luv.”

“Yeah . . . I used to be, too.” She swallowed hard. “But lately I think she’s better off.”

Shock filled his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.” Needles of pain pricked her chest. Her heart. She knew she sounded callous, but she was being honest. “At least this way she doesn’t have to remember.”

“Remember what?” he said softly.

“Everything that happened to her.”

“To her, or to both of you?”

She fought her discomfort. She didn’t talk about her childhood. Period. But the rare tenderness in Sean’s eyes coaxed the confession from her mouth.

“Both of us. But Mom suffered more than I did.”

His expression became knowing. “Your father?”

Bailey’s head jerked in a nod.

“He beat her? Beat you?”

Another nod.

She saw his fists curl into the sheets, as if the thought of anyone laying a hand on her enraged him.

“My beatings weren’t as bad, or as frequent. Usually he focused on Mom. Tormented her.” Involuntary shivers traveled up her spine. “But a lot of the times he’d force me to watch.”

Sean sucked in a breath. “Are you serious?”

“He said he was trying to teach me a lesson.” Bitterness combined with the lingering horror to form a queasy knot in her stomach. “He wanted me to witness every horrible thing he did to her. He wanted me to see the cuts and the bruises and the broken fingers and the ci—” She wheezed out a breath. “Cigarette burns. He wanted me to learn.”

Sean’s face painted a picture of pure revulsion. “To learn what, for Christ’s sake?”

“What happens when a woman tries to be more powerful than her husband.”

“How did she try to do that?” Sean asked in confusion.

“She didn’t try—she
was
. Her job was more important than his. She couldn’t help—” Bailey stopped. Her choice, she reminded herself.
She
got to decide how close Sean was allowed to get. And they’d just reached the line in the sand.

“What did your mother do for a living?” he pressed, but Bailey was done talking.

She placed her palm on his chest, stroking the light dusting of hair between his pectorals.

“Damn it, don’t distract me. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore.” Her hand glided down his stomach, and his abdominal muscles tightened beneath her palm. She reached the dark blond curls at his groin and grasped his semihard cock. One soft stroke and he was steel in her hands. Fully erect, precome oozing from his tip.

“
Talk
to me,” he ordered.

“No.”

He tried to move out of her grasp but she squeezed him harder, drawing a wild groan from his throat. When she leaned forward to take him in her mouth, his hips shot off the bed, seeking deeper contact.

It wasn’t fair what she was doing, but knowing that didn’t stop her from doing it. She’d given him enough insight tonight. Now it was time to armor herself again, to slam the door Sean kept trying to barrel through.

He shuddered when she sucked on the crown of his cock. “Bailey . . . you’re being . . . an asshole . . . right now.”

“Deal with it,” she murmured. Then she licked her way down his shaft and flicked her tongue over his tight sac.

The distraction ploy worked. Soon he was cursing under his breath and thrusting into her mouth. Pleasure stretched his features taut as his hand tangled in her hair,
guiding her along his shaft. He tasted soapy and salty and
male
, and Bailey couldn’t control the arousal that gathered inside her, throbbing in her sex and tingling her nipples.

She sucked him hard and fast, knowing what he liked, using that knowledge to summon groan after groan from his lips. She grazed her teeth on his sensitive underside and he grunted in pleasure.

But when he spoke, it wasn’t to urge her on. It was a command to stop. “No,” he said in a tortured voice. “You don’t get to do this.”

“You don’t get to stop me.”