Beneath the Secrets: Part One(25)

He met Kara at the hood of his truck and he didn’t miss the nervous look on her face, but she shivered against the year-round chilly San Francisco night air and quickly headed toward the door. “Home sweet mansion,” she said when she’d unlocked the apartment and flipped a light on the inner wall.

Blake stepped inside the warm entryway, and glanced up a flight of stairs that seemed to lead directly to a dimly lit living area. Kara flipped the lock into place and he followed her to the next level.

At the top, Blake found himself standing inside a small studio with light hardwood floors, a living area with one red leather couch and a chair, and to its right, a canopy bed. Kara’s canopy bed, where he would be sleeping with her. The wild, wicked things he could do to her in that bed heated his blood, as it would most men, but for reasons unknown to him, his chest tightened with emotion right along with his groin.

Kara delicately cleared her throat. “Let me take that pizza. You’ll be glad you brought it. I don’t have much in the fridge.”

“I’ll fix that tomorrow.”

Kara wet her lips, reminding him of how soft they were pressed to his, and looking nervous in the process. He didn’t think she got nervous often. “Right,” she said. “Of course.” She rushed off to the small kitchen opposite the living area and he let his bag drop to the ground, taking in the room.There were pictures of San Francisco and little trinkets on a table and bookshelf, but not one personal item. It looked like one of the places they would set up as part of a cover.

Kara returned and motioned to a partitioned wall near the bed. “I’ll change so we can get out of here.”

Blake watched her disappear around the makeshift wall, her shadow reflecting from behind it, a teasing silhouette of her undressing. He ground his teeth against the tightening of his groin. Kara wasn’t what she seemed, but she awakened something inside him, something he’d thought died with Whitney, something more than passion. The raw, seeping wound inside him, dark with emotion, was still there, but there was more now. There was…hope.

Grimacing, he ran a rough hand through his hair and turned away from the screen. If he fell for this woman and she burned him, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to get back up again. He wasn’t going to fall for her. He’d protect her. That was it.

Blake drew a deep breath and turned right back around again, proving to himself this woman did not have him by the throat, just the balls and he could pry her hand off those. His gaze went to her silhouette, the shadows outlining her naked body as she reached for a pair of pants. Blake’s cock went instantly rock hard and his control, the control he’d claimed to own so fully, threatened to snap. After a moment of fighting it, he decided to embrace what he was feeling and make sure she did, too. He stalked across the room and around the panel, the sweet, feminine scent of Kara slamming into him almost as fiercely as her creamy-white naked body.

She gasped as he drew her into an embrace, his mouth closing down on hers, commanding her to give herself to him, his tongue seducing hers into a response. Her body softened almost instantly, and it turned him on, and then pissed him off. She was good at turning him on. Too good.

He pressed her against the wall, twined his fingers into the dark silk of her hair, and forced her gaze to his. “It would be better for you to tell me who you are now, on your own.”

“I’m Kara,” she panted. “I’ve always been Kara.”

“End the game here and now,” he growled. “Don’t make me do it for you.”

“You think this is a game to me? This has never been anything further from a game to me.”

“What do you call secrets and lies? A game. A dangerous game. You have nothing personal here, not even a picture of your mother.”

“If I have her picture, that makes her important to me. There are people, like Ignacio, that might decide that means she’s worth hurting.”

“And yet you told Mendez and Richter.”

“I did what I had to and a public announcement isn’t required.”

He glared at her, probed her eyes. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

She sucked in a breath, a tormented look flashing in her eyes. “No. If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

More of the game, but beneath it was real pain and it spoke to him. He knew it, understood it, and owned it with far more gusto than he wished to claim. And he wanted to own her. It was a barbaric thought, but he owned it for that, and for where it came from. If he owned her, he’d take her someplace far away from here, and keep her safe. He was damn near desperate to keep her safe and he knew why, he knew the past was messing with him, he knew he couldn’t escape it, or the guilt over Whitney’s death that ate him alive.

Bitterness ripped through him and acid burned in that open wound that was a cavern inside him. His mouth came down on Kara’s again, rough with anger, at his loss, at Kara for making him care enough to be here right now, ready to bury himself in her, not some nameless woman who didn’t give a shit about him. Who wouldn’t be around to worry over the next day.

His tongue delved deep into the warm, sweet recesses of Kara’s mouth, his hands sliding over her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples. A haze of lust and desire overcame him, fed into her, and she responded, touching him. He lost himself in the rush of heat over his skin, the silk of her floral-scented hair on his face. He didn’t remember how his pants got down or how the condom ended up over his shaft. There was only the sizzle, the touches, the taste of her on his tongue, and the moment he lifted her leg and watched the lines and shadows of desire on her beautiful face as he pressed deep inside her.