Polar Opposites (In Aeternum Book 4) (25 page)

“Thank you. That’s what I asked him.” She burrowed in closer, inhaling deeply and allowing his rich masculine scent to wash over her. “He said he had to get her out. And I understand that. He’d not been sleeping so I sent him to my room to do that and I stayed up. While he was out, Lynn came to me asking me to help her get away.”

“Get away? From what? Or should I say who?”

“McNeal.”

“Did you help her?”

“No. I was tempted to, though. Really tempted.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“How would she survive? I’m not about to let her go to live on the street. I told her she had to talk to McNeal. Their talk turned more into a shouting match.”

“So she’s not scared of him?”

“I think it’s more scared
for
him. She’s still under the impression that they will be coming after her and if he’s discovered they will kill him.”

He grunted. “I have a feeling McNeal will be a lot more difficult to kill than she may believe.”

“He would be. Man’s crazy deadly.” She tapped a finger along his side. “But this woman is making him different. I don’t know what it is with her. Or about her.”

“How old is she?”

“Mid-twenties I would estimate. Why?”

“Is she his daughter?”

Bailey sat up, eyes wide. “I never thought about that. She may be.”

“It would be a reason for him to be so protective. I’m guessing you all have rescued numerous people from situations like she was in. And if this one is the person who’s making him different, there is a reason for it.”

“Well, not just like that situation, it was”—she shuddered—“unspeakable.”

“Does he have children?”

Bailey climbed off him and shuffled back to the kitchen. “I don’t know. McNeal is my boss. Not a friend. We don’t hang out or exchange Christmas cards. That’s not our relationship.”

Ivan joined her. “But he is close enough to you he wouldn’t hesitate to ask you to look after a woman.”

Is that jealousy I hear?
“That’s different. We have that kind of relationship. I trust him and respect him. He knows he can come to me about anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand you two but if it works then fine. My point is that she must be something more than the others if he’s willing to go through what he did to get her out and bring her to you. It’s obvious he thinks the world of your ability and he trusts you as well if he thinks you could keep her safe.”

“I suppose. I never thought she may his blood.”

“Will that change your mind about keeping her with you?”

“No. I’m still not the right person for that. I don’t have that caring gene and she needs love and nurturing.” She looked at Ivan when he laughed. “What’s so funny?”

“The ridiculous notion that you don’t have a caring gene, as you called it. Baby, I hate to break this to you, but you are very caring.”

She pulled out the rice casserole. “I’m a woman who takes lives for a living.”

“Yes. But that’s your job. You, Bailey Hyde, are a warm, loving woman. If you weren’t, why would you have checked on Lynn and told Kevin she needed to get out of there? Why would you have taken Safa with you and risked your easy escape to ensure the child was put in a much better situation? Then gone to visit her and check on her yourself?”

“That’s different.”

He snorted. “Nope. That’s caring. You have a big heart in that chest of yours. No matter what you try to convince yourself of.”

She withdrew the sheet of rolls and placed them on the bamboo trivet. “Children are different.”

“Lynn isn’t a child.”

“She’s younger than me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “You win. We’ll go with you’re a cold, heartless bitch.”

“Good,” she said.

She wasn’t sure what to make of his assessment. If she grew too soft, would she be able to continue her job? Bigger question, did she want to? Was she at the point in her life where she wanted to do something different?

How much sense did that make? She’d always done what she did. Bailey the homemaker didn’t sound like her. What did assassins do when they finished their careers?

Why am I thinking about this? I do what I do and I make no apologies for it. I have no intentions of giving up my work.

Did she?

Chapter Twenty

She stood there, lost in her own thoughts. Ivan watched her as she worked whatever it was out in her head. He could practically see the wheels churning in her mind.

He’d missed her. Bailey and her crazy personality. Not crazy like she was psycho or anything but crazy in that she never failed to make him amazed. She was like Jaydee in a way—there were some things that just didn’t matter. She didn’t complicate things—she spoke her mind and was brutally honest.

He stared at the thin orange camisole strap that had slipped down her shoulder as she continued to stand there. Her white and orange sarong had him ready to unwrap her. She didn’t have any shoes on and her nails were short and clean.

Bailey blinked and came to awareness. He smiled as she met his gaze.

“You okay over there?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Ready to eat?”

He was ready for something. “Sure, what can I do?”

They ate and he filled her in on how his work was going. Together they cleaned up and took a walk. Back at her place, she cut them each a piece of cake and they sat side by side on her sofa, plates in hand.

“Are you over whatever it was that was in Oregon?” She ate a bite of cake.

Ivan had known that the talk was coming, but that didn’t mean he wanted to deal with it. He’d already acknowledged he’d been an ass. “Yes.”

“I know this relationship is not the most common, given I’m gone a lot and you’re extremely busy with your work, but I won’t be in one where you think you can tell me crap like you tried to say there. I just won’t put up with it, Ivan, and if you weren’t you we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I don’t put up with it.”

“But you are not breaking it off?”

“No. I meant what I told you before—whatever this is between us, I feel it too. And that is why I’m not calling it quits. But it can’t happen again.”

“I’m possessive. And I’m not going to be apologetic for being me.”

“Not asking you to. Just that you realize what you’re doing. How many women would have been okay with the situation in Oregon?”

“Not many. You know there’s not anything between myself and Jaydee, Bailey. I told you that.”

“Nothing but a long history. An intimate history. Such that when you first got there, I was sitting with her husband for fifteen minutes while the two of you conversed in Russian, as if you’d forgotten we were even in the room.”

“She loves her husband and children.”

“Not saying she doesn’t. But when you come hard on me because I’m talking to a man who’s not only her brother-in-law but a fellow Theta Corps member, I take exception.”

“Understood.” He finished his cake and set the plate aside. “I had blinders on to everything but you and him, looking all cozy together.”

“Trust has to go both ways, Ivan.”

“I know. I’ve apologized and while I can’t promise I won’t become a stupid male who’s blinded by jealousy and does something you don’t agree with, I will promise to try not to.” He slid closer to her. “I do trust you, Bailey. On that, you have my word.”

He took the fork from her and fed her the next bite. Her lips formed a lovely and tempting O as she drew the food off the utensil. He watched her chew and swallow before he kissed her.

She shuddered and he captured the plate before it fell. Without breaking their kiss, he fumbled around for the table and set the remaining cake there with the fork. He was pressing her into the couch and took advantage, deepening the kiss. Ivan cupped her breast in his hand. The nipple drew tight and poked his palm through her thin camisole.

Bailey widened her legs and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, skimming along his back. He ground against her, mimicking what he longed to do to her without a single shred of clothing between them.

“I want my dick in you, Bailey. I want you coming all over it as you scream in pleasure.”

“Yes,” she mumbled back, tugging up his shirt. “Off.”

He obeyed, tossing it over the couch. She purred as she spread her fingers out and leaned forward to lick at his nipple. With the flat of her tongue, she lapped at him. One then the other, and goose bumps popped up all over his body. He encouraged her to lie against the armrest.

Reaching out, he lifted her left leg and hooked it over the back of couch. Her right she had around him. He took advantage of the access. Her sarong rode high and he could see a flash of her panties. He trailed his fingertips back along her smooth leg to her center.

“Silk,” he muttered. “A thong?”

She shifted beneath him, attempting to come closer, whimpering when he pushed her back and held her there.

“My turn, Bailey.”

White silk. Damp. He ran his fingers along her pussy, toying with the edge of the smooth material as she watched him, need blatant in her gaze.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Ivan, please.”

“No. I get to take my time. All these nights I’ve spent without you. My hand is a poor substitute for your pussy.”

“So is mine,” she admitted.

He tore his gaze from her panties and stared at her. “You’ve been playing with yourself, Bailey?”

“Nightly,” she said, arching her hips, seeking more of his touch.

“I want to watch that sometime. Watch you playing with yourself. Watch you finger your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers. See them come out of you covered in your cream before you suck them clean.” He slipped one below the elastic and touched one of her lips. She mewled and moved restlessly. “Will you let me watch you bring yourself pleasure?”

“Yes.” Her response was more of a gasp than anything. “If you do the same.”

“You’ve got a deal.” He allowed his finger to sink into her pussy.

She cried out, softly, hips gyrating and her leg around him tightening.

“Show me your breasts.”

She grasped the neckline of her shirt and tugged it down. Her white bra and the breasts it held were exposed. He used his free hand and dragged two fingers along the bra, freeing her breasts to his gaze. Dipping his head forward, he sucked a nipple in his mouth, swirled his tongue around it then bit lightly.

“Ivan!” Her cry was louder this time. He wanted her to scream until she lost her voice.

He pistoned his finger inside her as he shared his attention between her globes, ensuring to pluck and tweak the one not in his mouth. His cock dug insistently into his jeans, wanting out. Wanting her.

Her gaze, hooded. Her teeth captured her lower lip as he released her with a pop. They that begged for more attention. The way her shirt sat, they were offered up like a delicious temptation.

He trailed his hungry gaze over her. Rumpled. Her breasts were bared and wet from his administrations. The way her legs were spread bunched up her skirt, allowing him a direct view of where he had every intention of being. And soon.

Ivan turned and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. She trembled. He did it again, his tongue lingering as he traced an abstract design upon her skin.

Bailey tightened her grip on his shoulders. “Ivan.” Her cry was breathless.

“You are wearing a thong, aren’t you?” He nipped her again.

Her chest heaved with each desperate attempt to breathe. He ran his finger to pull the material away from her pussy, careful not to disturb his other hand, which he held still, his digits buried within her.

Her body responded to his touch like a harp did to a harpist. Every touch creating a reaction, so raw, so pure. So real.

Ivan jerked once, hard, breaking the material of her thong so it was no longer in his way. He worked his wrist again, keeping her on edge.

He moved to the knot securing her sarong and untied it. Nearly impatient, he flung the soft cotton pieces back. Her pussy had a single strip of hair, leading him to where his fingers were buried. Where he wanted his cock to be.

Withdrawing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, savoring her essence, before touching her right thigh.

“Why are you still dressed?”

“Shh. No questions. God, look at you. Laid out before me like you are. Do you know what you’re doing to me?” He touched her clit, pinching it lightly.

She shuddered. “Th-thought you said no questions.”

“To you. I can ask them.” Another pinch.

“Ivan, please.”

His cock screamed its agreement. Not moving back away more than he had to, he stood and kicked off his shoes. “Don’t move. Stay just like that. No, play with your nipples for me.”

He groaned as she did, her unpainted nails running over the beaded tips, plucking and rolling them. Pants undone, he shoved them down his legs, taking his boxers along the way. Her gaze riveted to his cock and he gripped it. The hunger in her eyes overflowed and he bent to grab a condom.

“Please.” The word fell from her lips as a beg.

He ripped the packet and unrolled the sheath on his length then got back on the couch. One hand he positioned under her ass and he lifted her slightly as he guided himself into her.

Her gasp turned into a low purr of pleasure as he slid in slowly with one continuous thrust.
Damn, I missed this.

Her tight pussy held him with the familiar warm heat no memory could ever properly recreate, nor compare to. She clenched and her muscles rippled. Ivan began to move. Bailey’s entire body responded.

He pistoned and she rose to meet him, her hips undulating as she worked with him, in tandem to heighten their experience. Her breasts jiggled as he drove into her. Over and over.

Her leg went from the back of the sofa to his shoulder. Bailey released her nipples and grabbed at his wrists. He allowed it.

Back and forth he powered his hips.

In and out he sank, only to withdraw then do it all over again.

Harder. Faster. Deeper.

He couldn’t get enough and needed more. Craved more.

Sweat trickled down his back and temples as he continued, desperate to prolong their pleasure and yet needing to explode.