Wanted by a Dangerous Man (11 page)

I swallowed. “I understand.”

“You don’t. You can’t.” His gaze was fixed on a point just to the right of me, and I nearly turned to see what he was looking at. “I was married once.”

“How old were you?” He seemed too young to be married and divorced already.

“Twenty-two. She died three years later.”

Time stopped, and it felt like an invisible fist had punched me in the chest. “Oh, Corbin. I’m so, so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I put my free hand on top of his, then turned the bottom hand over so that I was cradling him between my palms. He continued to stare at that point behind me, and I realized that he was seeing something else. Someone else.

“Her death changed everything. I didn’t care about myself anymore.” He inhaled, and it sounded like he was swallowing a word. “I swore that I’d never be close with another woman. I’ve mourned her for five years. Until I met you, I didn’t realize that my grief had become a habit that I couldn’t break. Even now… some days it tears me apart. I thought you should know.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled his hand back and picked up his sandwich, and I slowly opened the wallet. Then I closed it and slid it back over to him. It didn’t feel right to do it just then.

“What was your wife’s name?”

He looked at me with a small, heartbreaking smile. “Audrey. Her name was Audrey.”

I insisted on cleaning up after dinner, and chased Corbin into the den. Knowing that I shared a name with his dead wife freaked me out a little.

When I asked him why he had saved me, he’d said because he felt responsible for me. I wondered what had happened to his wife. Maybe he felt responsible for her death. I wondered if I’d be able to find anything about her online.

Of course that assumed she’d changed her name when she married him.
 

It also assumed that Corbin Lagos was his real name, which I didn’t assume at all. At the same time, it would be highly unlikely that the FBI would have the wrong name for someone. So what was in that wallet?

Sandwiches didn’t create much of a mess, so rather than load the dishes into the machine, I decided to wash them by hand, hoping that a few more minutes alone would help me clear my head.

There was something very strange about Corbin, I decided. Not the obvious, which was that he was a damaged widower ex-chef who had turned into a killer and did heaven-knows-what in other countries. He was too
comfortable. Yes, he took care not to be seen, but he wasn’t paranoid. And his situation demanded paranoia.
 

I thought back to what he’d said about Syre, how he’d demanded a bribe to distract him. Was Corbin trying to distract me from something?

I shivered. What if he’d timed the earlier fight and the dropping of the bomb about his wife to distract me from his wallet? What if he’d never intended to let me look in it?

What kind of criminal had credit cards with limits befitting a multi-millionaire?

I braced my arms on the sink and stared at the floor, stretching my tense shoulders. There was something big I was missing—something enormous, and whatever it was would explain everything.

Or maybe I just wanted to believe that it might be that simple.

It took me all of three seconds to find the open bottle of wine. Not much left, but maybe enough for two half-glasses. I grabbed it and went into the den. No Corbin.

“Sexy boy? Where are you?” I found him in front of the television, watching international news. I slid my free hand into his hair, drifted down to caress his neck, then dipped into his shirt to explore the hard curve of his collarbone.

He grabbed my wrist. “Be careful,” he growled in a sexy rumble.
 

“Or what?”

He flipped me over into his lap, and wine went everywhere. It was worth it, though, to see the shock in his eyes. I couldn’t stop laughing, but Corbin just stared at me, trying to look annoyed.
 

“Stay still.” Still laughing, I ran into the kitchen for towels.

When I came out, Corbin was standing bare-chested, holding his wet shirt. That sobered me right up. The man had a body to die for, and just when I thought I was getting used to it, he’d catch me off-guard again.

He undid his pants, pulled them off, and kicked them to the side. I knelt in front of the couch and dropped several sheets of paper towel on the fabric, trying to soak up the liquid. Then I dropped towels on the floor and started to wipe.

“That’s good,” Corbin said. I glanced up and saw that he’d divested himself of underwear, too. Most of the wine hadn’t even gotten on him.
 

I knelt up so that I could reach his cock. I looked up at him, keeping eye contact as I leaned forward and accepted his stiffening sex into my mouth. His dark brows furrowed, and he swallowed. Within seconds he was filling me, and I had to back off a bit to give myself room to breathe.

He gathered my hair and held it out of my face, and I anchored my hands above his knees. The steely hardness of his leg muscles surprised me. Incredible that someone’s body could feel like that.

He pulled on my hair, slowly urging me deeper on his shaft. I tensed up.
 

“It’s ok, Audrey. I can see your hands, and I’m watching your face. All you have to do is relax. I’ll do the rest.”

I glanced up and saw that the dominant expression had settled over him. Frightening how easily he slipped into this mode. But I trusted him, and the edge of danger was sexy.

I closed my eyes and squeezed my hands into fists, then relaxed them against the wall of his thighs. He moved himself into and out of my mouth, slow and shallow, and I began to time my breathing with his thrusts.

“I’m going deeper now.” He pressed forward, and the head of his cock touched the back of my throat.
 

I started to panic. My shoulders hunched forward and I curled my body, trying to move away from him while still moving close to him at the same time. Then I gagged, and he moved back a little.
 

“You can do this,” he soothed, his voice firm. “I’ve got you. I’m watching carefully, and I’ve got my mind-reading senses focused on you. You are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He tugged on my hair, adjusting my head, and I didn’t resist him. Suddenly his cock slipped past that gaggy area and into my throat.

I’d never had a cock so deep before. This was total submission, and I realized that I hadn’t given him attitude first.

Corbin rocked back, slowly, and I breathed in a few times, relieving the ache in my lungs. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me.

“Relax,” he almost purred, his voice like silk. Deep inside me he went. “I’m going to move now. You’re safe.”

He was right. I was. I felt so protected by this dangerous man, and I moaned, excited. Oh, all the naughty things I wanted to do. I shifted and realized my pussy was wet.

“That’s good for now,” he said, pulling his throbbing erection away.

I smiled, wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, and popped the end into my mouth. I squeezed and sucked him, working my hand up and down his shaft. My reward was instant. Corbin was nearly panting, and I sensed from the tension in his body that he wanted to stop me but couldn’t.

Take that, powerful dom.

“That’s good,” he said, warning in his voice.

I slowly allowed him to rock back from me, but I kept up a bit of wet suction, just to torture him. His erection popped free of my mouth with a wet little smack. I looked up at him, smirking. Corbin’s mask-like expression made me all cold and hot at the same time.

He grabbed my upper arm. “Disobedient? No sex for now. Go take a shower.”

I crossed my arms and pouted, but Corbin turned my shoulders and sharply smacked my ass. It sent me scurrying across the floor and up the stairs, my hands thrust behind my butt in case he was coming after me. Sadly, he wasn’t. When Corbin said no sex, he meant it.

After I showered, I dressed in my own pajamas and went to find Corbin. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. I stared. He was shirtless perfection, and he was proof, yet again, that flannel pajama bottoms were sexy.
 

“Your phone rang.” He folded the paper and stood, his broad chest a lesson in muscle anatomy. “I was thinking that we could go snowshoeing tomorrow. I know a great spot in the mountains.”

“Nice,” I said, eyeing his sculpted abs. “And snowshoeing sounds good, too.”

A dark eyebrow lifted. “Your phone.”

I wandered into the living room and found my phone. Henry. He’d left a voicemail. I wouldn’t have checked it except for the fact that he was chasing Corbin.

Audrey. Gimme a call. Got a question for you.
The scowl was still on my face as I returned to the kitchen.
 

“What’s wrong?” Corbin asked.

“Henry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about him. Whatever information he thinks he has is wrong.”

“I don’t see how you can be so cavalier about it.” I poked a finger in his face. “If you’re going to get caught, I should get the money. After all, I found you first.”

“Hush.” He grabbed my waggling finger and easily twisted my hand behind my back, pulling my body close against his naked chest.

The ache deep inside me was back, and Corbin felt yummier than ever. “I’m horny,” I whined. If he didn’t want to fuck me, he needed to put on some damn clothes.

Releasing me, he sat and pulled one side of the string holding his pajamas closed, then eased the fabric down under his balls. His cock was already hard, curving back toward his body.

“If you want to get fucked, you’re going to have to earn it. Strip.”

Gladly. Half a second and I was nude before him. He took his time drinking me in, his face expressionless. I’d never had a man stare at my breasts so openly and for so long, and my nipples stiffened as surely as if he’d touched them.
 

His attention lingered on my pussy. “Go upstairs and get a condom from the bathroom. I want you to walk slowly.” He fisted himself, and I did a half pirouette. “No. Turn back around.”

I did, shooting him an evil look that didn’t seem to bother him in the least.
 

“I said to move slowly. So turn slowly.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I guess you can masturbate.”

My evil look must have been funny because he was holding back a laugh.
 

“The woman is supposed to be the one who decides when sex happens,” I protested as I turned slowly, feeling like an idiot.

“Never had a man tell you no, Audrey?” He shook his head. “Nope. Slower.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously or playfully. But slowly.”

“Argh!” So damned frustrating.

“You sound like a pirate. That would be a new one for me, but you’ll find that I’m more than willing to explore your kinks.”

I glared at him.
 

He stood with a lazy, cocky smile and kicked off the pajamas. I hoped that I’d won, that he was going to fuck me right there. Instead he gripped my shoulders. Taking his time, he moved them. His breath stirred the fine hair on the back of my neck, and his warm erection jabbed into my lower back. “This is the speed I want. Feel free to wiggle your ass as much as you like.”

His commanding touch made me even wetter. I closed my eyes, swaying, ready to lean into him. To my dismay, he released me. He sat again, then stroked up and down his swollen length.
 

It was degrading, being made to act like his own private peep show. And yet… it excited me to see him turned on, playing with his cock.
 

So I turned deliberately, even slower than he wanted, making the semicircle with about twenty mincing steps, swinging my hips back and forth and making sure that my breasts bounced with every movement. Corbin had a lot of talents, but even he couldn’t keep the lust out of his eyes.

When I was facing away, I pulled my curly, messy hair free from the bun and tossed my head. My hair drifted down around my shoulders. I bent over and carefully scratched my ankle. I knew that my pussy was peeking out at him. I cast a glance back and saw him lean forward in the chair, the chair creaking in protest under his solid weight. His eyes hungrily feasted on my plump, glistening folds.

I shifted my weight, hoping that my pussy would disappear and reappear. I couldn’t know if I’d pulled it off; it wasn’t exactly something I’d practiced in a mirror.

“You are playing with fire,” he murmured.
 

“Then why are you the one being burned?”

He stood and came close, grazing his hands on my ass, passing his fingers teasingly over my slit before pressing his erection between my ass cheeks. He squeezed his cock between my buttocks. “You’re so hot that I could easily come on your back like this, you know. Leave you horny.”

His dirty words were the final straw; I couldn’t endure any more frustration. I slid a finger into my tight flesh. Corbin caught my wrist and pinned my arm behind my back. “No,” he said, warning in his voice.

That was so not the way to stop me from doing something. But before I got my other hand near my aching sex, he’d locked it behind my back, too.
 

He moved my captured wrists together until he was controlling me with one hand. With the other one, he slapped his cock lightly on my buttocks.

“I could still come all over you. I could make you suck me.” He spun me and pulled me to him, and I moaned as his hot shaft pressed against my belly. Then he tossed me over his shoulder as if I were weightless.

“This reminds me of the night I found you,” he rumbled, and I punched his lower back. I mostly missed, my knuckles sliding off to the side. He sighed and shifted me so that I was hanging over him at a most precarious angle, everything from my waist to my head perpendicular to the floor. I went completely still, and he laughed. His deep voice vibrated through his entire body.

He carried me up the stairs.

“I’ll be good,” I pleaded. “Put me down.”

Instead he threw open the bedroom door, went into the bathroom and retrieved a box of condoms from a shelf under the medicine cabinet. When he turned, I glimpsed my butt in the tall mirrors. Corbin noticed and stopped a moment. “Hey, now. Look at that!”