Running With the Devil (4 page)

After stumbling, she righted herself and zigzagged to the darkest, most deserted corner of the building. She’d hide until the coast was clear.

Nearly home free,
Kenna thought right before a large hand clapped her on the shoulder.

Damn. Not enough air in her lungs to scream.

Double damn. Agent March was fast.

He yanked her arms behind her back and shoved her against a shed hard enough to get her attention. The metal—still warm from the heat of the day—bit into her cheek.

His labored breathing exploded across the back of her neck. “What the hell are you doing? You want to blow my cover?”

“I don’t give a crap about your cover.”

Agent March paused. Swore. Muttered something about his supervisor kicking his ass, then layered his hard body to hers, from hips to chest, settling his chin into the vulnerable bend of her neck. His warm breath seared her skin. A second later he tugged her earlobe between his sharp teeth.

Desire raced from that stinging spot straight to her core. Pathetic. How could she be turned on at a time like this?

“
Kenna Jones
might not care about my cover. But I’ll bet you
Kaye Anne Ennis
does.” He bit her earlobe again and laved the mark with a long, wet lick of his tongue.

She gasped. “How—”

“—did I found out who you really are?” His lips skimmed the fine hairs standing at attention on her nape. “I know all about you.” He trailed his mouth along the slope of her shoulder. “Age: twenty-nine. Residence: apartment 17C at the Aspen Leaf Complex. Vehicle: a 1996 Ford Explorer, white. Occupation: doctoral candidate in geology. Want me to keep going?”

“You bastard.”

“Yep. You shouldn’t have lied to me, Kenna. But I tell you what. I’ll let you make it up to me.”

“This ought to be a stunning suggestion.”

“Not what you think, cynical girl. Just act as my girlfriend for the next couple of days until I get the information I need on Diablo.”

“Or what? You’ll turn me in for solicitation?”

“No. I’ll turn you in to the IRS for unreported income.”

Tangling with the IRS was almost worse than the head of her department learning how she’d earned her tuition last year.

She was dead broke. Her grant application had disappeared again. Already up to her neck in student loans, she couldn’t get another one at this late date. And to make matters worse, she’d been a victim of online identity theft. Until her financial mess was straightened out, no bank would even loan her a pen.

“No deal. If I’m helping you I lose my only chance to make some cash. Then I forfeit my place in the doctoral program.”

He paused. “I can arrange to pay you.”

Rage distorted her vision. She reared back until her head connected with his nose.

“Ouch! Goddammit! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I am not a whore.”

“I know. I wouldn’t be paying you for sex. You’d be paid as an informant.”

“No difference.”

Drake spun her around and loomed over her. Dangerous. Sexy. Ill-tempered. In short, an alpha male used to getting his way.

“Big difference. We will be working together.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Not negotiable, Kenna.” His silky hair brushed her forehead when his soft lips grazed her ear. “But cheer up, there are other fringe benefits.”

Her knees went weak, her fickle body softened. How was she supposed to resist him when he was so…overpoweringly male? “Like what?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

His eyes and his body silently spelled H-O-T S-E-X.

“I can’t believe the federal government would condone this type of behavior.”

“Not only does Uncle Sam condone it,” he muttered thickly against her throat, “it is expected that we’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done. Goddamn you smell good.”

Kenna forced herself not to react to his bone-melting touches and shoved him away. “Including ‘doing’ me?”

“Yes. But don’t play coy. You reluctantly agreeing to act like my girlfriend doesn’t explain the chemistry that erupted between us from the moment I saw you.”

She didn’t deny it. There’d been an unusual, unexplainable magnetism drawing them together since the fateful moment they’d set eyes on each other at the Broken Arrow Campground.

His enticing lips moved closer. Hers parted in response.

To prove his point, he caught her face in his hands and leveled her with a brutal kiss. He explored every inch of her mouth. Slicking his tongue over her teeth, tickling the roof of her mouth, gently sucking her tongue. His lips were hard and then fleeting.

Kenna melted, losing herself in the way his long lean lines molded so perfectly to her lush form. The way his uncontrollable hunger made her feel wholly feminine and surprisingly secure.

Yet despite the soft tangle and retreat of his tongue, the strange rightness of his mouth controlling hers, she withdrew. Scared her to death, the sexual longings he brought to the surface.

Not to mention the power he had to screw up her life.

What the hell had she been thinking? She shoved him away. “Forget it. I-I have to go.”

Drake asked mildly, “And where’s the fire?”

“Besides in your pants?”

He smiled. “You put it there, hot stuff.”

“You are a menace. I’m going back inside to tell Marissa this whole thing was a big joke.”

His playfulness vanished. “I’m not laughing. You
will
be at that party with me even if I have to fasten one of those fancy rhinestone dog collars around your neck and muzzle you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Yes, I would. Be warned: if you try to run from me again, I’ll break out the handcuffs.”

“Forget it, perv.” She threw her purse strap over her shoulder and spun on her heel.

Kenna didn’t get far in those ridiculously sexy shoes. When she stumbled Drake caught her and whipped her back around.

His steel-toed boots bumped her sky-high red sandals and he completely invaded her personal space.

The little spitfire stood her ground. “Back off, March. I need time to think.”

“No. You need to wrap your brain around the fact this is a goddamn federal case. You help me and I won’t have you arrested. Simple. Doesn’t take a doctorate to figure that one out.”

“This sucks,” she retorted.

“Yeah, so tough it up, doc. Enough stalling. Come on. We have things to do.” He grabbed her hand and towed her behind him as he strode toward the parking lot.

She jerked him to a stop, digging into the hard clay despite the trash catching her high heels. “Where in the hell are you dragging me off to in such a rush?”

“My motel. I’ll brief you and introduce you to my team.”

“There’s more of you?”

“How do you think we followed you today?”

“Damn devious government spies are everywhere,” she muttered. “Hey, I thought you said you were staying at the Broken Arrow Campground?”

“We didn’t know if we could get a room in Sturgis on such short notice. We kept the registration as a precaution in case anyone double-checks my cover.”

“Are people chasing after you, Agent March?”

“Unlikely.”

“But if they are—”

“For christsake, you think I haven’t been doing this job long enough that I can’t shake a tail?”

“Doesn’t matter how good you are at chasing tail. I’m not staying in a sleazy motel room with you.”

“Ha ha. You’re fricking hilarious. You’d rather sleep in a tiny canvas tent with me and share a communal shower with a thousand other women?”

“What makes you think I’d want to stay with
you
anywhere?”

“Doesn’t matter what you want. I’ll be glued to your side 24/7. Get used to it. You’re completely mine for the next few days.”

“As your girlfriend? Great. I’m thrilled your partners will think I’m a pro.”

“My partners know you’re cooperating as an informant and are pretending to be my girlfriend.”

Drake slowly traced a shadow from her defiant chin to the tops of her breasts. When she shivered, his smile evaporated. “No one has to know we’re really lovers.”

“You wish. Got all your bases covered, huh, slick?”

“I won’t be covering bases, I’ll be covering you. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about our bodies slick with sweat, sliding, straining together in the dark. I can read the anticipation in your face right now.” His thumb lightly brushed her full bottom lip. “We’ll be lovers, Kenna. Soon. When it happens I won’t be an agent and you won’t be an informant. I’ll just be a man and you’ll just be the woman who’s all mine.”

Heat blazed in her eyes and she swallowed hard.

Not so confident now
, Drake thought.

“This is crazy. I don’t even know you.”

“You will. You’ll know me very, very well.”

“You’re pretty goddamn sure of yourself.”

“About some things.” He leaned closer. His smile grew bigger when her breath caught. “You react to the way I touch you. Even when you don’t want to. Bugs the shit out of you, doesn’t it?”

Kenna didn’t answer. Her chin rose a notch. “Back to business, March. Which motel are you staying at? I’ll meet you.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Nice try, but no chance. I don’t trust you.”

“The feeling is mutual, pal.”

Drake rocked back on his boot heels and waited, suspecting his silence would drive her crazy.

It did.

“God!” She gave him a frustrated look, growled and smacked him in the arm with her bulky purse. “You are such a control freak. Fine. We’re going to my apartment first so I can get my stuff.”

He smirked. “Good plan. I’ll follow you.”

“Don’t think I’m leaving the door unlocked.”

“I wouldn’t dream of making such an assumption.”

Her cat-like eyes gleamed. “Then is there a secret knock I’m supposed to know, Agent March?”

“No.” Christ, she had a smart mouth. Maybe he was masochistic but it was turning him on beyond belief.

She granted him a cool once over, then rapped the rhythm “shave-and-a-haircut-
pause
-two-bits” on his chest. “Doesn’t take a decoder ring to figure that one out, secret agent man.”

Amazing that she didn’t get whiplash from whirling away so quickly. He waited a beat, then caught her by her swishing hips, snaked his arms around her lithe body and clamped his lips to hers.

A token protest burst in his mouth before she kissed him back just as voraciously as he’d predicted.

This woman pushed his buttons. He pushed back. Oh yeah. They were
so
gonna set the sheets on fire.

Drake reluctantly released her ripe mouth an increment at a time. “Drive careful.”

Kenna rolled her eyes and straightened her clothes. “Why? You gonna sic the highway patrol on me?”

“Smartass.”

As she sauntered into the orange glow of the sodium lights, Drake suspected it might be easier to figure out who was behind Diablo than figuring out who was the real woman behind the different faces of Kenna Jones.

She’d escaped to the bathroom alone after letting him in her apartment. Even when his interest about conserving water had been apparent. Mostly in his jeans.

She’d packed hurriedly, locked the door, needing time to shed the trappings of Kenna—physically and mentally.

The man had knocked her for such a loop from his first touch she feared she’d never recover. The kisses in the shadows of the bar? Nothing short of phenomenal. Spontaneous. Passionate. Everything she’d heard a kiss could be but hadn’t experienced firsthand.

His clever mouth, his naughty tongue, his demanding hands… Oh mama, what those hands could do.

In a hazy, dreamlike state, she imagined the rivulets of water racing down her body
were
his hard-skinned palms. Teasing her. Touching her lightly, but with intent. Liquid heat shot between her legs. Her breasts grew heavy. Nipples tight. Throwing her head back into the fine spray, she gave in to the uncontrollable driving need for release.

Kenna parted her lips and let droplets of water trickle inside as she remembered his dark masculine taste. The sensation of his velvety tongue sliding against hers. She imagined the heat from his muscular body would warm her bare skin as his large hands cupped and squeezed her breasts. He’d twirl her nipples, searching for that spark of pleasure that bordered on pain. She arched her back, pressing closer into the steamy water. Wanting more, wanting everything from this phantom lover.

His hungry lips would trail from her mouth to her ear. The soft, unintelligible words he’d whisper would send chills racing through her. He’d stoke her tremors of desire with each fiery touch from his hot hands.

He’d lick away the water flowing over her skin. His sharp teeth would score the column of her throat as he inched his way down her body. Nipping. Marking her flesh with tiny love bites. Then again his deft fingers would pinch and roll and tug her nipples until she cried out.

He’d laugh. Not cruelly, but with confidence.

She widened her stance and her hand slowly slipped across the wetness of her flat belly until it reached the moist thatch of curls.

Touch yourself for me
, he’d urge.

No. I want you to touch me.

And in her fantasy, he’d obey.

Her ragged breath echoed in the tiny stall space. Cool water flowed over the smooth skin of her shoulders as her questing fingers parted the moist folds of her pussy.

Between the water and her juices, she was already slick. He’d murmur how hot it was that she’d gone wet and soft for him. Then he’d slide his middle finger up and down her slit. Teasing her. Tormenting her clit until it peeked out from its hiding place.

She’d gasp as his rough thumb began to stroke little circles around that swollen nub. Back and forth. But it wouldn’t be enough. Crazed with need, she’d bump her hips at him, an invitation for him to push a finger inside her.

He’d comply. One finger in. And out. Coated with her wetness he’d push even deeper on the second stroke.

Like that?
he’d ask.

More,
she’d demand.

He’d breathe heavily in her ear as he jammed another long, callused finger up inside her warm channel.

Yes. Don’t stop.

He’d pump in and out in a primal rhythm that matched the thick throbbing of her blood. Lapping the sweat and water from her skin like it was liquid candy. Whispering how he’d taste the cream between her thighs and make her scream his name.

Kenna moaned, rubbing the plumped bud harder and aching to feel his thick fingers inside her, not her own.

She’d fill her lungs with his seductive manly scent as his soft hair tickled the sensitive curve of her neck. The rasp of his stubble would scrape her breast as he strongly suckled her nipple into his hot mouth. Deep enough the tip would hit the back of his throat.

The exquisite pressure of her own fingers thrusting inside her and the continual stroking of her clit pulled every internal muscle taut in anticipation. Her belly swooped and the spasms began. Water streamed down her face and into her open mouth as the detonation inside her body sent her freefalling.

Lights burst behind her lids. Blood pounded in her ears.

After the throbbing slowed, Kenna blinked the mist from her lashes. Whoa. She reluctantly removed her hand from her swollen sex, still feeling delicious little pulsing aftershocks. She squeezed her thighs together.

Stunned by the intensity of her orgasm, she fell back against the tile shower wall. Her shaking knees knocked over the shower gel, releasing the heavy aroma of gardenias.

If the real thing with Agent March was anything like her fantasies…

Geez. Talk about quick on the trigger. Hadn’t taken her very long to get off. She snorted. When did it ever?

But what if he’d walked in on her?

So?
the bad girl inside her countered. Would he have just watched her pleasuring herself with those steely blue eyes? Or would he have joined in?

Not only would he have joined in, he’d have taken over.

And would she have let him?

Well duh.

Kenna shook her head to banish the erotic thoughts. Water droplets splattered against the plastic shower curtain covered in daisies.

It’d be interesting to explore this potent attraction, which seemed equally baffling to him. Was it inevitable they’d do a little mattress dancing? Probably. Still, she had no intention of spending the entire week with him. She’d do her civic duty and get him into the private party, score a couple of primo orgasms. After that, he was on his own.

Would he really toss her in jail? Or call the IRS?

Most likely.

She shouldn’t chance it. But she needed the money and would do anything to stay in school.

The water ran cold but she was slow to move, knowing he prowled in her apartment, waiting for her to emerge. The real her. No wigs. No makeup. No revealing clothes.

Why was she stalling? Afraid he’d prefer the brash, take-no-shit Kenna—who could make herself come in two minutes—to the demure, sexually repressed Kaye Anne? She climbed out of the shower, toweled dry and wiped the steam from the mirror.

For several moments she stared at her reflection.

With shaking fingertips she fluffed up the funky layers of her chin-length hair. The bronze highlights gleamed beneath the incandescent lights. She smoothed moisturizer over her face and squinted at the dark circles beneath her eyes. Definitely needed concealer. She slicked a coat of black mascara on her lashes. Better. But still nowhere near the glammed-up version Agent March had seen.

Kenna slapped on some gardenia lotion, slipped into her clothes and shoved her toiletries into her travel bag.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.