THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series) (23 page)

“Touch me,” she pleaded, shocked by her outspokenness but not the least bit penitent
.

When he stroked his thumb over the nub tingling under the damp panel, her hips nearly came off the table. “Just like that,” she breathed. He repeated the motion, and her head fell back. Again and again he caressed her, sending her into a realm of ecstasy.

Without warning, he edged aside the barrier, ducked his head, and replaced his dexterous digit with his open mouth.

“Oh, my God, Ja—Abdul!” she cried.

He stiffened, shooting a wary look up the length of her body
.

“Abdul’s not your real name,” she said hastily. “Tell me what to call you when I come.”

Her brazen distraction worked. “Call me whatever you want,” he said thickly before plowing his tongue into the furrows of her flesh
.

“Mocha Man,” she breathed, scarcely capable of speech. “That’s what your skin looks like to me. Dark, sweet mocha.” Gripping the edge of the table, she teetered on the edge of an orgasm
.

A deep resonant chuckle followed her comment. Traveling up inside her body, it called attention to the emptiness there. She needed more; something only he could give her. She pleaded with him to take her.

“Tell me you trust me first,” he demanded between flicks of his tongue
.

Aware of what he was trying to do, she kept stubbornly quiet, causing him to still and lift his head with a challenging look.

“Oh, don’t stop. That’s not nice,” she reproached him with a gasp of disappointment
.
 

“Tell me you’ll trust me to help you,” he insisted
.
 

Damn him.
Was he really going to do this to her? “Fine, I trust you.” Amazingly the moment his hot mouth resumed its magic, she did feel a surge of absolute trust, which made her pleasure that much more intense. “Oh, God!” It overwhelmed her unexpectedly. Gripping the table for dear life,
Lena
rode the caps of the tallest waves before plummeting into an orgasm that crashed over her, drove her deep into herself, spun her around, then deposited her gently onto a shore of sweet contentment.

To her confusion,
Jackson
straightened with a grimace and started tucking his shirt back into his pants
.

“What are you doing?” she asked, flummoxed by his actions
.
Was he really going to stop now, in the middle of their tryst? 

“Scrounging up some self-control.” His grimace turned into a tortured smile
.

“Why?”

“Because I want to give you more.” He held out a hand, pulling her upright. “Dinner in a high-end restaurant, candlelight, a comfortable bed.” He brushed a curl from her cheek. “I can’t wait to date you. Just trust me to handle
Davis
my way and leave tonight,
Lena
. When I’m finished here, I will come for you.” He looked deep into her eyes. “And then I swear I’ll give you everything you ever wanted,” he vowed hoarsely. “Everything you deserve, including
Davis
’s head on a platter. I give you my word.”

But
Lena
scarcely heard him for the blood roaring in her ears. “You seduced me on purpose,” she accused. “You extorted a promise from me!”

His jaw tightened with frustration. “I only want to keep you safe. It’s that simple.”

What if it was? He seemed sincere enough.
Lena
bit her lower lip uncertainly
.

When the chime of the front doors reached her ears, she didn’t immediately react, but
Jackson
did, swiveling toward the monitors.

“It’s the cop,” he announced, snatching up her bra and thrusting it at her. “Quick, get dressed.”

“You’d better leave,”
Lena
warned, scrambling off the table to put herself together.

Jackson
backed toward the exit. “
Magdalena
?”

In the process of redressing, she glanced up at him. “What?”

“Remember that you can trust me,” he said, holding her gaze captive as he pushed the door open behind him. “My word is all I have to give you now, but I swear it’s all you need.”

Chapter
Twelve

The sharp knock on the door right next to Lena drowned out the sound of the service door closing as
Jackson
slipped out the back.

“Just a minute!”  she snapped, struggling to hook her bra.

From the other side of the door, Deputy Hazelwood demanded, “Why’s this door locked?” 

“No idea!” Flustered and furious, Lena tunneled into her top, grimacing at the damp patch over one breast as she tugged it down. Making one final adjustment to her twisted skirt, she stepped toward the door, took a deep breath then snatched it open. “What do you want?” she asked with all the grace of a defiant teenager.

“What are you doing?”  His gaze went straight to the wet spot on her blouse.

“Stocking the refrigerator,” she bit out.

Craning his neck to see inside, he took a good look around. “Keep the door open next time.”

“Who appointed you my keeper?” she groused, aware that she was taking out her temper on the hapless deputy. She already knew
Jackson
was responsible for the police presence at Artie’s.

“
No
idea
,” the deputy tossed back, using her own words against her as he swiveled toward the hot dog grill.

Lena
stalked into the store after him. Lathering her hands with antibacterial gel, she grilled the hotdog he ordered on autopilot while deliberating
Jackson
’s ultimatum.

Not only had he sworn to help her implicate
Davis
in her sister’s murder, but he’d pledged to woo her like a gentleman the next time they met. All she had to do was leave tonight.

The dilemma made her stomach churn with conflicting impulses
.

My word is all I have to give you now, but I swear it’s all you need
. Was it really? She had nothing in writing, nothing to guarantee he would fulfill his promises. From the fateful night she’d learned that her sister had been murdered by a cop, she’d trusted no man—not even one she intuited was a good guy.

Desire gave way to cynicism. Maybe if she still believed in fairy tales and princes in shining armor galloping to a fair maiden’s rescue, she’d take Jackson Maddox at his word. But she’d moved well beyond that stage in life.

More than that, she was this close to catching
Davis
on her own. How could he expect her to turn her back on everything she’d accomplished so far, all in the hopes that he had the integrity he said he did?

**

Jackson
stared up at the springs checkering the bottom of the bunk above him. Corey’s snores abraded his raw nerves. He couldn’t sleep. His body still hummed with sexual awareness. Visions of
Lena
, virtually naked and lying spread-eagle on the table top flickered before his eyes like an endless X-rated movie. The only way to loop his thoughts off the erotic film track was to picture her interviewing
Davis
. His blood ran alternately hot, then cold.

Twelve years of active duty in the Corps had accustomed
Jackson
to going without sleep, but if he didn’t keep his senses sharp and his guard up on this undercover job, he’d make a fatal error. Having stayed up late the last two nights, he already felt like he was running on fumes. Unless he got rid of this hard-on, sleep would continue to elude him.

With chagrin, he loosed the string on his pajama bottoms and took his steely erection in hand.

This was twice now in just days that he’d had to masturbate. For a man who hadn’t thought about sex in months, even years, his current state was nothing short of a resurrection. Not only had
Lena
brought his sex drive back to life, but she’d ratcheted it to the highest setting, making him as horny as a nineteen-year-old
.

Picturing what he would do to please them both next time, it took mere seconds to whip himself into a critical state.

I’ve fallen for her,
he realized with mixed dismay and euphoria. The one woman in the world with the potential to expose him as a fraud now had him by the balls. Worse than that, she gave so little consideration to her own safety that he had every reason to fear she wouldn’t make it out of Mechanicsville alive
.

Envisioning himself buried in her tight, slippery sex, he swallowed a groan of sublimity as he came in a powerful rush, wetting his own bare chest. A pleasant, sleepy stupor ambushed him immediately. He barely had the energy to grope for the T-shirt that was balled up under the bed.

Please leave town tonight,
he willed as he wiped himself dry. The plans that were forming in his head about the future hinged on
Lena
remaining safe, and very much alive.

**

The next evening,
Lena
pushed out of the store in the hopes of dispelling her agitation. Turning her back intentionally on Gateway, she admired the lavender sunset on the western horizon and dragged warm country air into her lungs
.

“Howdy,” called Deputy Doug Hazelwood out the window of his cruiser. “Nice evening.”

She sent him a tight smile and a barely perceptible nod of agreement. Concentrating on the scent of freshly mowed grass and a gust of summer air, she was nonetheless aware of every cell in her body clamoring for
Jackson
to come visit her again tonight. Only, she knew he wouldn’t.

He had given her an ultimatum—to surrender her plans for
Davis
or else never again experience the intoxicating thrill of getting to know him intimately. Of course, he hadn’t worded it in such black and white terms, but she was fairly certain that it was
Jackson
’s way or the highway.

The only sure method to get what her body and heart yearned for was to pack her bags and head for home
.

Still, she wasn’t leaving. Maybe if she got some kind of promissory note that would hold up in a court of law, she thought wryly, but probably not even then
.

If she could just explain to
Jackson
that it wasn’t strictly a matter of trust. She was days away from her interview with Davis, an interview she’d imagined countless times in the past ten years. How could she just walk away after all she had done to prepare for his entrapment? Especially when she fully believed in her ability to make him say something incriminating. She couldn’t just give it up.

Nor could she shake the sinking certainty that, as a consequence, she was letting something extraordinary slip through her grasp.

What if
Jackson
never sought her out again because she’d rejected his offer and therefore
him?
Would this longing inside eventually subside? Or would she end up looking for his face in every crowd, wondering what might have happened between them if she’d just acceded to his wishes?