Bent (The Gifted Series) (13 page)

              She wielded around, eyes wide and laughter bitter.  “Are you kidding me, Bret?” She then pointed at Tiago. “I love that man, but he’s lashing out like an overprotective boyfriend, and you know it!
 
If any other
female
agent had to dress this way for a cover,
 
no one would think twice about it.”  She looked them all over before meeting Mattis square in the eye. “And as far as you and everyone else holding the
golden agent status
over my head, well, I really don’t give a shit anymore.  Consider me out!  I have more pressing issues to deal with than my rep within the SAA.
 
The agency can fuck off!”

              “Leah!” Tiago, Declan, and Mattis admonished in unison.

              She continued practically, as if it all suddenly made sense, even though she’d understood the reality of her predicament from day one, “Don’t you all see that in the greater scheme of things my place in the agency doesn’t matter.  Until the Landons are dead and gone, my career is a mute point.  My sole purpose in life is to off them before they sink their claws into me.  I have no future until their gone.”

              “True,” Bowen said loud and pragmatically.

              “Shut up,” Tiago growled. He focused on Leah again, but forced his tone to soften. “Baby, come on.  Just get in the SUV.  We’ll get some needed sleep and talk about this rationally in the morning.”

              She looked at him as if he’d grown two heads.  “Ya know what, Gracen, save your pacifying.  I know you’re pissed at me and can’t wait to rip me a new one.  Hell, you just watched me suck face with another man! I’d be furious if the roles were reversed!”

              His entire body tightened, but she continued, “So halt the placating tone and just be pissed off.  Oh, and while you’re at it, unclip the dog leash you’ve double wrapped around my neck.  It’s beginning to chafe.”

              Bowen muffled a snort of amusement almost clapping his hands together. “McGafferty women ...” he muttered low.

              “Shut it!” Mattis fervently whispered toward Bowen as Tiago growled, “Leah, I’m in no mood for your sharp tongue.”

              She then stepped closer, her eyes narrowing.  “No.  No more!”  She glanced at all of them, but settled back on Tiago. “I’m giving you harsh truth, Tiago, so listen up. We all know you trump me with years of experience, marksmanship, and hand to hand combat—you probably always will—but as far as
gifts
go, I can mentally kick your ass.  So the coddling stops now.
 
And that goes for the rest of you, too.”

              Tiago’s jaw further tightened. “Is that right?” 

              Leah knew how much Tiago hated being challenged—common amongst readers—but this wasn’t her intent.  She simply wanted to get real; she had to get it through his brutish head where the two stood.

              There wasn’t an ounce of arrogance in Leah’s tone when she replied, “That’s truth, and you already know this.”  With that she spun and stalked off toward the van, slamming the door once inside.

              A few seconds of silence ticked. Then, an amused bark of laughter burst from Bowen. “She’s a spitfire, that one!”

              Quick as whip, Tiago spun and cracked Bowen in the face. 

              Bowen grumbled a curse while picking himself up off the ground.

Chapter 9

The day had ticked by, and neither Joss or Carter spoke much.  Both were separately pulled out and allowed to run the treadmill that sat desolately in the corner of the dark basement.  Patrice wanted fit assassins, so this “indulgence” was tolerated. 

              Oddly, Stephan didn’t arrive for a torture session, and Carter wasn’t complaining.  Though he couldn’t resist getting a jibe in when one of Samuel’s flunkies, Nick, came to toss them dinner—cheeseburgers and fries from McDonald’s.  Joss looked at the bag with wonder as Carter sneered, “What? No beat the surfer dude today? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re gettin’ soft there, Nicky. Where’s Stephan and Samuel?” 

              Again, the man didn’t flinch, just closed the door and sauntered off.  As he stepped away, Joss added a dumbstruck “Thank you,” holding up the bag in her left hand.  Nick halted and glanced over his shoulder.  With his expression gratingly
expressionless
, he stated, “Patrice and Stephan had to leave, and I hate cooking.”

              That was it.  All he offered.

              Joss wielded with wonder.

              Carter’s gaze narrowed on the bag.  “I take it Mickey D’s isn’t a norm.”

              “Never,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to think.  Is this an act of kindness or a … last meal of sorts?”

              Carter didn’t want to contemplate that because, again, there was nothing he could do about either scenario, but he certainly hoped it was a last meal for Joss—that she would break free tomorrow and never be found again. 

              He cleared his throat.  “Regardless, I say we eat.”

              Joss smiled, a bit of sadness hinting, but the two dove in.

    *     *     *    *

              Joss turned the shower off and the lights above followed.  A darkness she once loathed was now something she desired because it meant moments of deliciousness with Carter.

              She turned around and gave a start as Carter wrapped her in a small itchy towel.  How she longed for plush Egyptian cotton, but at this point, she didn’t care if Carter toweled her off with sandpaper.  His touch was all she desired.  Especially knowing what lay in store tomorrow. 

              In the recesses of her mind, she’d known her days were numbered until Patrice sent her on what she called “tart” missions.  They dolled her up and pranced her about, luring in whatever menacing sorts had crossed the Landons or those who were financially advantageous.  She’d become a lethal first-class whore.

              Her eyes slammed shut, and she dropped the thought, forcing herself to tune into the man before her. 

              “Thought I’d help,” he said low, gently drying her with the towel and then trailing his bare hand across her warm skin, massaging, caressing, and leaving every bit that he touched tingling with expectancy.  He treated her body with such reverence.

              “Hey, sweets, I can’t see your face, but I can feel your tension.  What’s goin’ on in that mind of yours?  Second thoughts about your earlier request?”

              She blushed, glad he couldn’t see, but answered honestly. “Absolutely not. I … I’ve never needed anything as much as I need you in this moment.”  Her cheeks flamed even hotter.  Did she just admit more neediness to the man?

              He kneeled down, drying her legs, but said nothing in reply as his bare hand followed the scratchy towel to smooth and massage away the prickly sensation. Finally, he spoke, “I hope you don’t mind me asking but when you’ve”—He halted clearing his throat— “been with others, did they use protection?”

              “Always.” Her answer was firm and assuring.  “Surprisingly, Patrice requires this.” A snort.  “Only because she cares about keeping her assassins free of STD’s and not laid up with gonorrhea.  We’re checked regularly.”  She hesitated for a moment and cringed.  Her hand came down on his. “Look, Carter, I understand if you’re not—”

              He flicked her hand away, then reached for her ass, giving a massaging squeeze.  “Don’t ever think that.  I’m one hundred percent into this.  Dreamin’ about it all week.”  He heard her soft chuckle and then he continued to dry each cheek, enjoying the task.  He then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss directly above her tiny patch of hair.  She gasped as he whispered low, “I wouldn’t dare use that towel to dry this, but my tongue will do nicely.
 
Besides, I want this area dripping wet.”

              She adored his naughtiness.  A smile cut across her face which quickly died in a hiss as Carter’s tongue dove between her clefts and lazily stroked up her center.  The tip of his tongue gave the slightest flick at her clit, causing her to shiver.

              “So good,” she drawled.  Her head fell back and her fingers dove into his hair, holding him in place.

              “Lay down for me, sweets.
 
I want you comfortable, so I can work you right.”

              She complied, lying across the bed and boldly spreading her legs wide as he dove into her just like he’d done throughout the week.  As usual, she bit back moans of bliss.  The man’s tongue received a triple X rating.  If it could be replicated, he’d be a billionaire and every woman on all seven continents would use artificial Carter tongues to slake themselves daily, maybe even morning and night.

              “Wet and perfect,” he mumbled, barely halting his attack.  Then he inserted his finger, and in between finger fucking her, he continued to lap at her clit but added the occasional swipe of his thumb across her sensitive nub.

              Her back arched.  He knew how to rev a woman.  A thought she both despised and appreciated.  She bit back the need to scream. Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph, how she longed to scream.  “I’m going ta …”

              “I know, baby,” he whispered, but stopped his actions and rose above her. She wanted to protest, but refrained because she knew he was ready to give her what she longed for—his powerful cock thrusting inside her.  She’d dreamt of this moment.

              He sat back on his knees and pulled her up.  Once she was sitting up, he surprised her by flipping her around—his chest to her back, then pushed her back down to all fours.             
 

 
“You want me from behind?” she asked breathlessly, albeit slightly hurt that this was how he chose to take her for their first time.
 
She had romantic visions of gazing into his eyes, candle light, music, nonsense that could never happen in Shangri-hell.
 

              He leaned over her body, engulfing her with his, and then whispered in her ear, “Just to start.”

              She still felt the urge to protest, although her nether regions quivered with anticipation, but her urge halted as he thrust inside her.  One long easy thrust and he was seated deep and full.
 
His cock felt utterly sublime.

              “Christ above,” she hissed as he moved her hair to one side and began peppering her shoulder and back with soft kisses.

              “Paradise,” he breathed against her.  His hands roamed and caressed as he began a sensual rhythm.  She was so wet for him, so desperate for him.  His hands squeezed her breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching her nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through her body.  He then palmed her chest, forcing her to rise upward with him, so they were both on their knees.  This shortened the depth to which he penetrated but teased and taunted her in delicious ways.  Joss slid her hand down her body as Carter nipped her ear.

              “Touch yourself,” he ordered, placing his hand over hers.  She didn’t hesitate and took their hands straight to her folds.  With her middle finger she began to lightly stroke herself as he continued his steady rhythm from behind.  He grabbed her wrist, halting her, then raised her middle finger to his lips and sucked it off. 

              “Tangy and perfect,” he growled low.  “I love your taste, Joss.  I could feast upon you for days.”

              Again, she was glad of the darkness, knowing her cheeks burned.  Although Patrice’s hypnotics had forced her body to perform various sexual acts, it wasn’t truly her desiring these things.  She’d never willingly experienced such wicked pleasure before, but oh how she liked it.  “Let me taste.” She all but drooled, feeling a slight shock that she had actually uttered those words.

              He met her request with an approving growl in her ear and guided her hand down to her center.  He then swirled her finger and his around her wetness, even stroking his cock as he continued his subtle pump inside her.  Her body trembled from the utter ecstasy of it all; it was sinful in the best way. Especially when he raised her finger back to her mouth.

              “Taste yourself, sweet thing.  Taste how much you want what I’m doing to you.”

              Her mouth greedily captured both of their fingers, and she sucked off the tanginess that was her desire. With that, something inside Carter must have snapped because he gritted a curse and pulled out, spinning her around and pushing her into the mattress.

              Before Joss had a moment to catch her breath, he was on top of her and sheathed within.  “Fuck, you crank me,” he whispered at her ear, as his thrusts became savage and his tongue and mouth nipped and lapped at her lobe and neck. 

              Ahhh! Can you say erogenous zone?  She tilted her head, giving better access, and he lifted her calf, placing it over his shoulder.   He drove so deep that a cry escaped her.  His hand came up and covered her mouth, as her hands landed on his ass, digging in.

              “As much as I want you to get loud,” he began. “And I love earsplitting screams of pleasure from the woman I’m giving it to, I don’t want this moment interrupted by the dick weeds above.”  His hand remained over her mouth until her tongue snaked out and licked his palm.  She could still faintly taste herself.  He groaned and shifted his hand so she could suck his finger.  “Damn, what you’re doing to me,” he growled.

              She dragged her fingers up his ass to the top of his broad shoulders, enjoying the muscular curves along the way.  Her walls began to clench and she knew she was seconds from release.  “Carter …yes, I’m …”  She lost the words to raging passion that blasted her body.  His mouth crushed down upon hers, swallowing her uninhibited moans as the orgasm coursed through.

              “Fuck, baby,” he gritted. “So good.” Then he drove into her again, grinding as his body began to jerk in a frenzied release.

              The pain of the last two years escaped Joss’ mind for this perfect hazy moment.  She’d just
willingly
been with a man.  A gorgeous desirable man with whom she felt too much for.