Only (6 page)

This time he broke into a full laugh. “No. I didn't come for any of this, but I did enjoy that last part.”

It seemed indelicate to give herself a cheer, so she refrained. “Okay.”

He picked up his jacket and shrugged his way into it. With a few steps, he stopped at her underwear. Without any fanfare, he picked up the black silk and slipped it in his pocket. “I have your bag. I wanted to get it back to you. Seeing you was the bonus.”

She stood there like an idiot, not moving or speaking until he raised an eyebrow. “Oh . . . yeah. Right. The bag. I wondered where it got to.”

With his hand out, he stood in front of her. “Give me your keys and I'll put it in your car.”

Never mind the fact she had to bite her lip to keep from chanting his name a few minutes ago, or how he stuffed her panties in his jacket. The conversation was so normal. So mundane. Something people dating might talk about and it threw her off.

“Kyra, you're going to trust me to enter your body, I think you can trust me with your keys.”

“Right.” Still she couldn't figure out how to move.

He snapped his fingers. “Hello?”

The clicking sound broke through thoughts barraging her brain. “It's not that.”

Not that she could tell him where her thoughts had wandered. She'd barely gotten him on board for an offer of unlimited sex. One whiff of the word “relationship” and he would bolt. No way did she want that.

“Then what's wrong?” he asked.

But she could give him something to think about while she walked around the club half naked. If she was going to feel uncomfortable and on display, so was he. “I want you outside of this building. Over me. Inside of me.”

Heat flashed in his eyes. “Soon.”

She opened her locker and dug around her purse for her keys. The move seemed to take forever but she knew it was more like seconds. Turning, she returned to him. The keys jangled when she reached over and dropped the chain into his jacket pocket.

“I thought you'd want to spend more time with me . . . what was the word you used?” Refusing to move back, she straightened his tie, taking her time with the task and making sure her body rubbed against his. “Bare.”

“Oh, you will be naked.” That sexy voice had plunged even deeper.

“Good.” The word didn't come close to expressing how she felt or the nerves jumping around in her stomach.

“Oh, I'm betting it's going to be great.” His satisfied expression didn't change. “Slip me your phone numbers at some point tonight.”

If she waited one more minute before going out on the floor she'd likely get fired. Worse, Becca could come hunting for her.

Despite the risks, Kyra couldn't drag her mind away from Bast and to where it should be. “Will you call me tonight?”

“We'll see each other tomorrow.”

Close enough plus the delay would give her time to look perfect. “What do we do about Becca?”

“You worry about pleasing me and I'll take care of everything else.” He cupped the back of her head in his palm and treated her to a lingering kiss.

Just when Kyra lifted her hands to join in, he broke away. He went to the door and removed his impromptu lock. After a quick glance both ways down the hallway, he stepped out.

She didn't want it to end, so she called him back. “One request.”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“When you finally get naked for me, wear the glasses.”

His smile promised the scenario would be happening very soon. “They turn you on?”

“Everything about you does.”

“Good to know.” He winked at her and left.

It took her another few minutes to adjust her stockings again.

Elijah sat in the club booth and counted to twenty for the second time. Then he tried a third round. The mindless activity didn't do anything to ease the twitch in his neck or his pants. Seeing Wade had the same effect it always did. The churning started, then the rush of heat. It had been that way from the beginning and the epic fight that ended with Wade kicking Eli not only out of his bed but out of the building hadn't cooled Eli's need one bit.

Watching Wade flirt with the blond with the swimmer's build and expensive suit forced a different kind of heat through Eli's veins. So did the way Wade smiled before the guy returned to his table across the room.

Eli knew the other man. Recognized him from a photo he saw in one of Wade's nightstand drawers in the condo above the club. Eli hated the live version of the man.

But Wade's smile brought back memories. Eli remembered months ago waking up from his wounds, including the one Jarrett inflicted when Eli showed up on his doorstep after almost being killed in an attack made to look like an accident. Wade had stood guard over Eli's bedside. He was the six-three enforcer with shoulders as wide as a doorframe, or so it seemed.

Back then the military haircut and scruff around Wade's chin had Elijah wishing for something other than an escape from the building. And when he'd brushed the back of his hand against Wade's fly and got a look of smoky interest in return, it was fucking game on until Wade called an end to everything.

They'd lived and slept together upstairs for months while Eli recuperated and after. As he began investigating who was systematically eliminating his CIA Spectrum front and why, the rage inside him had simmered. Most of it was directed at Becca, and finding her back in Jarrett's protection set Eli off. His hate spewed and Wade walked in at the wrong time.

It all ended after that. Wade refused to listen back then and they'd been apart ever since. Eli could count almost down to the hour since he'd last run his hands over Wade or been inside him. Wade put up the wall. All the calls and texts did nothing to knock it down.

And now this fucking blond popped out of nowhere.

Elijah couldn't sit still another second. He walked up to the bar and stood right in front of Wade to force a confrontation. Up close, Eli saw the ease on Wade's face. The comfort, as if their time apart had been good for him while it scratched and scraped at Eli.

Wade used his towel to dry out a glass. “Elijah. It looks like you're getting along well with Bast.”

“The job is fine.” The last thing Eli wanted was mundane bullshit chatter, but since some old guy with a bad comb-over sat at the bar two chairs down and didn't seem to be moving on, Elijah had little choice.

Without asking, Wade put a glass in front of Eli and poured a beer. The right one. His favorite.

“Not exactly like your last job,” Wade said.

“Bast prefers if I don't kill people on company time.”

That comment got the intruder moving. He grabbed his glass and headed for a booth filled with three other men in gray suits.

“Sounds like Bast. Lawyers are funny that way.” Wade actually smiled as he looked at the retreating man's back. “You scared that guy away.”

“He shouldn't eavesdrop.”

“That's a favorite pastime at the club.”

Enough mindless talk. Eli had a point and jumped to it. “You were talking with Shawn a few minutes ago. When did he start sniffing around again?”

Elijah knew exactly who the blond was and what he once meant to Wade. They were together for months before Eli arrived at the building.

“Excuse me?” Wade's smile was long gone now.

“You heard me.”

Wade slammed the glass against the counter with a loud whack. The rattle of silverware and rumble of conversation in the club's dining room covered it, but did not hide the scowl. “It was your tone that ticked me off.”

“If the problem wasn't the subject, then answer me.” Elijah did a quick look around before lowering his voice even further.

“Maybe you forget but I'm not a fan of being ordered around.”

A rule that didn't apply to the bedroom where Wade had ceded control to Eli but he didn't point that out. “I thought you had a rule against screwing club members.”

“I'm trying to figure out what makes you think you get a say in who I talk to.” With the towel draped over one shoulder, Wade balanced his palms on the edge of the bar and leaned in. “You gave up that right when you made it clear sleeping with me was nothing more than a way to pass the time and not something that meant anything to you.”

“I never said that.” Elijah had no idea what he'd said back then. In his fury, words had spilled out of him until even Becca went silent. That was when he noticed Wade in the doorway and knew he'd blown it.

“I was standing right there. You said I was easy, a diversion, and one you could walk away from.” Wade shoved away from the bar and stood up again. “So I gave you your wish.”

What Eli wanted was the stubborn man standing in front of him. Before Wade sex amounted to a release or a job requirement. Eli had been with men and women and it all blurred together into one forgettable pile.

No matter how hard Wade had pushed, Eli refused to tag his sexuality with any sort of label because that never mattered to him. And he'd spent years running away from that and the judgment and all the other crap heaped on him by his father. If Eli had known back then a few simple words meant so much to Wade, Eli would have said them. Would have said anything.

“You missed the part where I was in the middle of a fight with Becca when you walked in,” Elijah pointed out.

“You're forgetting the part where I've moved on. We're done.”

The blow landed right in Eli's gut. He felt the devastating thud of the killing blow and forced his body to stay upright. “You think kicking me out of your bed changed anything between us?”

“Everything.” Wade's word came out rough, grating. “Every damn thing.”

“Don't fuck him.” The words shot out of Eli louder than he wanted, enough to have a few heads turn in their direction.

Wade's eyes bulged. “Who the hell—”

“Do not fuck Shawn.” Eli hesitated between each word, forcing them out through clenched teeth. The anger raging inside him boiled and sprayed until it washed through him and drowned out everything else.

“You no longer get to have a say in who I see and who I sleep with.”

The fury in Wade's voice matched Eli's. They traded whispered rage, neither one giving any ground.

Eli wanted to reach across the bar and shake Wade. Shake him, then draw him in for a kiss that would knock the shitty words right off his tongue. “You're angry with me, fine. Then talk to me. Yell at me so we can get past it.”

Whatever Wade was going to say died when he opened and closed his mouth, once then twice. Each time he moved back until he stood away from the bar with his back tight up against the shelves of bottles behind him. “We said all we needed to say to each other.”

“You got pissed and went on a rampage.”

“Said the guy with the anger management problem.”

“I'm working on that.” Watching Bast work every day helped with that. The man stayed steady while the world crumbled around him. Eli liked the style.

“Now you do that? When it's too late to help us?” Wade grabbed the counter behind him and held on until his knuckles turned white. “You're lucky I'm working and can't take you apart.”

Eli held his arms out, taunting and ready to go. “If that's what it takes for us to move past this, do it. I won't even fight back.”

“This conversation is over.”

He'd already lost ground and pissed Wade off. Knowing he couldn't lose any more, Elijah went for it. He snapped the top off of all those words bottled up inside him. At least Wade finally provided a reaction, which was more than he'd done so far.

“Does the ongoing punishment make you feel better? That's what this is, right?” Elijah did a quick glance around and saw Bast staring at him but ignored the boss's interest. “You want me to pay for not saying the right words when I was pissed off at someone else—not you, but the woman who had pulled a gun on me and held a knife at my throat.”

“Your fight with Becca had nothing to do with me but you pulled me in by mentioning our relationship.” Wade executed the perfect exaggerated pause and held up his hand. “Oh, that's right. We weren't in a relationship. That's what you told her, right? We were just engaged in mindless forgettable fucking.”

“I warned you before that day how she set me off.” Elijah inhaled, searching for a final hold on his temper and finding the tether frayed. “Or were you looking for a reason to move on? To get rid of me? Maybe you were the one who wasn't into it but it's easier to blame the end on me.”

Wade's jaw snapped closed with enough force for Eli to hear the click. But he didn't back down. Not now. Not after he finally got Wade to at least say something.

For a second, Wade stood there, staring as his chest rose and fell on heavy breaths. When he did speak, his voice carried a slap. “You are so far out of line.”

“You going to kick me out again?”

A red wash covered Wade's face as he pointed at Eli. “You don't belong to the club, so I can throw your ass on the street if I want to. It's only out of respect for Bast—a loyal member—that you're still standing here. Jarrett is willing to bend the rules to make Bast happy and I'll go along with it for now, but do not push it.”

As if saying his name conjured him up, Bast appeared at Wade's side. “Is there a problem here? People are starting to stare.” He walked with his usual confidence and his voice sounded as calm and unruffled as ever.

Whatever club policy might be about dealing with members, Wade didn't back down. “Tell your guest we have rules here.”

With his hands folded on the bar in front of him, Bast kept his attention centered on Wade. “I'm pretty sure Elijah knows that.”

“He's not acting like it.”

For the first time, Bast glanced at Elijah. “What exactly happened?”

But Wade jumped in, his anger still raging. “The same thing that always happens with Eli, he pushes the boundaries too far and things go to hell.”

“Okay.” Bast cleared his throat. “Could you be more specific?”

Eli had had enough of being ignored and of Wade's wrath and of wanting something he clearly could no longer have. “Wade doesn't want me on the property.”

“That's not his decision,” Bast said with the same steady calm exterior he used when negotiating with clients.

“My fight isn't with you, Bast.” Some of the tension spinning around Wade eased.

“That's pretty clear.”

Wade took the towel off his shoulder and threw it on the bar. “I'm not dealing with this situation right now.”

“Or ever, apparently,” Eli mumbled under his breath.

“I have someone I
want
to talk with.” Wade pushed on the hip-height swinging door that protected his area from the rest of the room and stepped from behind the bar. He glanced at Shawn and then back to Eli again.

The second kick, this one a gesture instead of words, hit Elijah's gut just as hard. “And you say I'm the one who's pushing.”

“We're done here.” Wade treated Elijah to an expression that matched his words then walked over to Shawn's table.

•   •   •

Bast wasn't clear about what just happened, but he sure as hell knew it wasn't good. The raised voices and pointing and general feeling the club was one second away from breaking into violence gave that away. Wade kept his cool on the job. Eli had perfected an icy exterior. Seeing them both go off proved to be quite a show.

Not sure if he should defuse or investigate, Bast turned to Elijah, who had not moved from his spot in front of the bar. “Want to tell me what's going on with you two?”

“Nothing.”

“Give me a break.” For a trained killer Elijah looked like he was on the verge of shutting down and Bast didn't like it at all. He'd take Elijah's smart mouth and poor timing over the quiet seething any day. “Adults don't stomp off like that and Wade is not one to stage a public screaming match. And you look like hell.”

“I've about had it with being told what's wrong with me.”

“Then tell me what happened and I'll shut up.” Bast looked over Elijah's shoulder and saw Jarrett standing in the doorway to the dining room with Becca. With a shake of his head, Bast telegraphed for Jarrett to stay back a second. “It's either tell me or tell Jarrett, and I know how you two get along.”

“See that guy?” Elijah didn't turn. He nodded in the direction Wade traveled.

“The blond Wade's talking to? Yeah.” Bast had seen the guy before. Used to see him a lot and always with Wade but usually after club hours. He worked at some big-time security firm. The type Bast pegged as a private military firm, sending people to war-torn areas to do no one wanted to know what. The guy wasn't a club member, as far as Bast knew.

Elijah downed his beer in two gulps. “It's Shawn.”

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” But Bast was starting to suspect he knew where this was going.

“The guy Wade slept with before me.”

“Wade sure does have a type.”

That got Eli's attention. His head snapped around until he faced Bast. “What does that mean?”

“Look at him. You two have the same build.” And theoretically they both could kill on command. Wade clearly liked his bedmates deadly.

“I'm Japanese and he looks like he walked out of a Viking poster.” Eli spun his glass around on the bar, making it clank as the heavy bottom hit the wood. “I want to fucking punch the guy in the mouth, then we'll see if he smiles at Wade.”