Zero Hour Read online

The words jammed in her throat. With Roarke’s hazel gaze boring into her and the cab slipping in and out of traffic, she wasn’t ready to blurt out everything. It hadn’t impacted this mission yet. And it wouldn’t. “Just that we had enough on him for the night, and I should go before Darren talked me into leaving with him.”

  Roarke didn’t seem to be buying that. “Until we can dig into what unconventional things this guy has going on, I’m not comfortable with this plan. He’s too dangerous—”

  Oh no way, he wasn’t pulling the plug on this. “We can chat tomorrow when we debrief and plan my next date with him. For now, I have to get these clothes and eyelashes off and get some sleep.”

  “Wren,” he growled.

  “Roarke!” she shouted back at the height of maturity.

  “Why are you yelling at me?” He reached for her arm.

  She yanked away from him and plastered herself to the side of the car, ignoring the hurt flashing across his face. “Why am I yelling? I’m yelling because this is the result of an adrenaline crash. Because I just played someone for two hours and I’m goddamn exhausted. And you pop up like you’re my savior, telling me all of this is for nothing—?”

  “I never said it was all for nothing. We got some great intel—”

  “And we’ll get more.” She gritted her teeth. “Don’t do this right now, Roarke. Do not. I’m pissed off and a little scared, and you’re going to get the full brunt of my flailing emotions. Is that what you want?”

  “If it makes you feel better to get it out, then bring it on.”

  “Oh, fuck you. I’m not doing this just so you can use it against me to show why this is a bad idea.” She pointed at him. “And don’t think you’re going to get away without answering for this earring thing, you asshole.”

  “I didn’t want to freak you out with ideas on all the ways the mission could fail.”

  “So what if you freaked me out? I’d get over it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty damn capable. I got out of there without the safe word—”

  “Barely—”

  “So you can kiss my ass.”

  The cab stopped in front of her apartment building with epic timing, and she threw open the door, slamming it shut behind her and speed walking toward the stairs.

  Roarke was right on her heels and caught her arm before she could make the ascent. Once again, she found herself trapped between Roarke’s body and a brick wall. The lights of the cab faded as it drove away, and she lifted her chin. “Getting a little tired of men manhandling me tonight, Roarke.”

  His eyes flashed. “And now you’re lumping me in with Darren Saltner?”

  She huffed out a breath. “You know you’re not like him. I’m making a point though that I’ve had it with guys who want to prove to me how big their dicks are.”

  “Men who are concerned with your safety?” His nostrils flared. “Men who want to see you live past thirty-five? Men who give a fuck about you?” His fist pounded the wall beside her head, startling her. He inhaled, eyes rolling back as he fought to control himself, and he flattened his hand against the wall and dropped his head beside hers. “Jesus, Wren, this is killing me.”

  He pressed closer, and she shuddered as his chest brushed hers. There wasn’t much fabric separating the heat of his body from her hardening nipples. Why did her body always respond to him like this? She ached from keeping her muscles tense all night, from constantly being on guard, and she didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore. To fight this.

  She wanted comfort. She wanted to be lost in a feeling other than terror. After what happened in college, she’d sought out sex on her own terms, seeking to cover bad memories with good ones. So sex had always been an outlet for her, and although she knew intimacy with Roarke would be a web of complications, that didn’t really matter right now. It was either this or go into an adrenaline crash that would last for days.

  She’d rather have an orgasm.

  She twisted her neck so that her lips closed over the hinge of his jaw, and she rolled her hips forward. His breath caught in his throat, and the hand beside her head scraped down the bricks until his fingers closed around her hip in a punishing grip.

  Yes. Make it hurt a little.

  She ran her tongue along his jaw and licked at the corner of his mouth. She leaned back a bit, just to study his eyes as she curled a finger in his belt loop. A dim light over their heads reflected in his light eyes. There was hunger there, too. When she rolled her hips again, his arousal was unmistakable, a thick bulge in his jeans, and she wanted to unveil the prize behind his zippered fly.

  “Wren.” That syllable was a warning and a dare and a plea all in one harsh burst of sound.

  “You cut me off, and I’ll just go rogue.” She ran the tip of her tongue around the flower inked on his neck and tasted a bead of sweat that lurked among its petals. “But I’d rather have your support.”

  The five pressure points where he gripped her hip were spreading heat into every limb and pooling between her legs. She’d have bruises tomorrow, and she’d relish them.

  He pressed his full lips against the corner of her eye, then her cheekbone. “You like seeing me cave, don’t you?” His words sank into her skin like fishhooks. “You like breaking me in half, ripping me open, and getting me to show you what I’d never show anyone else.”

  She’d dreamed of this, of an emotionally naked Roarke desiring her. She wanted his respect more, his confidence in her that she could complete this mission. And while she didn’t have that, and wasn’t sure she ever would, she was able to make him putty in her hands. So she’d take that and run with it. So yeah, watching him cave, ripping him open, and picking at his insides would have to do for now.

  She wouldn’t get out unscathed though, and she hoped he took care of her once he inevitably saw all her ugly insides.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Wren was driving him out of his mind. Beneath his hands, her body was tight and hot, and his dick was painfully hard and pretty pissed off at his unyielding zipper.

  This was a bad idea for a thousand reasons. He was already in over his head with Wren on this mission and if he finally got to taste her? He was going to be fucked.

  But when she slipped those hands up the back of his shirt and scraped her long nails down his bare back, his brain went offline with an echoing click.

  He’d thought many times about what he’d do if he ever got to touch Wren, and all his fantasies involved taking care with her, slow and easy with soft, whispered words and lots of affection. But that wasn’t really him, and he was too far gone in a Wren whirlpool of anger and fear and desire.

  He gripped both her hips and thrust against her roughly. “This the kind of support you want?”

  She gasped, and her red lips, smeared with makeup, twisted into a smile as she let out a dirty laugh. “Well, I didn’t think I was being subtle.”

  “We didn’t agree to this. You’re changing the code on me.”

  “Maybe I am.” Those damn fingers scraped his back again, teasing above his waistline. “You’re not the only coder. Maybe I don’t give a fuck about what’s going to happen after this. Maybe I just want to live in the moment. With you. Right now. I’ve never been into beta testing. Let’s just live it.”

  He was done with the torture—the wishing and wondering if she was as delicious as she looked. He yanked her off the ground with his hands on the backs of her thighs, and as her legs circled his waist, he dove in for a kiss.

  She met him halfway, her hands gripping his face as she opened her mouth to meet him. They clashed in a mess of lips and tongue and teeth. He thought he tasted blood but it didn’t matter, because holy shit this was Wren. Wren. The first girl he ever wanted. The reason he learned to hack, so he could get back at her cheating boyfriend. The woman he’d spent the last decade protecting from behind a computer.

  Wren.

  And fuck she tasted good. Their lips slotted together like puzzle pieces, and their tongues moved in sync. He wasn�
��t aware he was thrusting against her until she let slip a pained whimper. He leaned back, and she winced, rolling her shoulders. Oh right, the brick wall, and her dress was backless.

  He turned and slid down the wall until his ass hit the ground. Wren sat astride his lap with a filthy twist to her lips. “What a gentleman.”

  “Don’t speak so soon.” He pulled her dress off one shoulder so it exposed her bare skin. He ran his tongue along her collarbone. Then with a glance at her face, he slid her dress down to reveal a breast.

  And oh fuck, she was perfect. Full and round with a dark nipple. He cupped the mound, kneading it slightly as Wren’s hips began to churn. He flicked the tip, and she gasped.

  “You want to know how many times I jerked off as a teenager thinking of these?” He slid down the other side of her dress until she was fully exposed. Her left breast was slightly larger than the other, and he decided he liked that one the best. He pressed her closer and leaned down, closing his lips around the hard peak.

  “Oh yeah?” she asked, her voice raspy. “I hope they live up to the promise.”

  It took all his willpower not to unzip his jeans and plunge into her right there. He closed his teeth around her nipple, just to test how she liked it, and she cried out, her nails tightening on his shoulders. He wanted to throw her on the ground, tug that dress up, and see how she reacted when he put his mouth between her legs. “They fucking exceed it.”

  While he could have stared at her tits all day, he wasn’t sure if there’d be another chance to get his hands on her. No life was guaranteed, and the one they lived was rife with ways to be snuffed out.

  While he kissed her mouth and sucked the skin on her neck, he ran a hand up her leg, over the cherry blossom tattooed from her mid-thigh to her hip. Under her dress, his fingers caught on a string. Just a string. He pulled back and lifted up her dress. What she wore underneath was tiny, a mere scrap of fabric covering her, held by thin string on each side. “Fuck me.”

  She squirmed on his lap, and he caught a glimpse of the damp fabric. Like a freaking beacon, he pressed his thumb there, feeling around for her clit. Her body jolted, and her head fell back as she thrust her hips against his thumb. Her responsiveness sent his arousal into overdrive. He’d never been one to talk much to his partners, but the sight of Wren had the words dripping from his tongue. “Oh baby.” He smiled. “That’s what you want, right? You want my hand on this heat?”

  Her mouth was open, her hands braced on his chest. “Roarke,” she gasped out.

  He yanked the fabric to the side and stared down at the glistening curly hair around her folds. He sucked his thumb into his mouth and placed it right on her clit.

  “Oh fuck,” she cried out, and rolled her hips harder.

  He was going to come in his jeans. The solid ridge covered with denim was wet with her arousal. He thought about pulling himself out and jacking off right there, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off Wren or interrupt her desperate chase to get off.

  He slipped two fingers inside her, and she gasped, stilling for a moment. She was picture perfect—tits out, skirt up to her waist, mouth open with kiss-swollen lips. A spot of red on the side of her neck, where he’d sucked up a patch, stood out against her light skin. Good, he hoped it was there for days. Weeks.

  Her hips swiveled, and he curled his fingers, possessiveness for her slithering into his blood every moment she let him touch her. He didn’t want to think about Wren with anyone else, but he had to know. “How long has it been, little bird?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “How long since you’ve been touched? Because I gotta say, you’re a tight fit for two fingers.” He slowly slipped a third inside, and she shuddered. “How long?”

  “Months,” she gasped out, a strand of hair sticking to her still-red lips. “But don’t make me tell you how no one has ever touched me this good.”

  That’s because no one cared as much as him. “You think this is good? You haven’t seen what I can do with my dick yet. But I want to see you come like this. I’m so fucking hard watching you.”

  She made a sound like a whimper and began to ride his hand. He could barely keep up, fascinated by the roll of her hips and her wetness coating his fingers and his lap. Her breasts bounced in his face, and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, clamping down with his teeth. Seconds later, her breath caught, her body shook, and her inner walls pulsed around his fingers.

  He pulled back just to watch her face as she came, the way her eyes slid half-shut, the way her mouth rounded into a soft O, and he listened to the high-pitched moans falling from her lips. He was still hard, but his brain was now coming back online after its Wren-induced shutdown. It occurred to him that he’d just finger-banged the girl of his dreams in a dirty apartment stairwell. In public. She was topless about a hundred yards from the parking lot and although they were fairly secluded, this was all kinds of fucking stupid.

  He righted her dress, covering her back up, and he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was trembling, the spring air still cold, and the heat between them had cooled somewhat. Or maybe it was her adrenaline crashing. His hands were a little shaky, too. He tried to rationalize it all in his head that they could go back to the way things were. That this could be it, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from all the places he’d marked her with his lips and teeth.

  They’d just rutted like teenagers. Maybe that was what happened when you finally touched the girl you’d lusted over for nearly two decades.

  He helped her to her feet and rose next to her, discreetly adjusting himself. As the realization of what they’d done sank in, he knew the truth—this would change things. It didn’t matter if he tried to tell himself it was just sex. It wasn’t.

  “So,” Wren said as she attempted to fix her hair, then gave up on it. “You agree to keep letting me do my job then?”

  That comment made him flinch. Was her intention to give him a taste so he’d keep her on the team? His gut churned, and even though he told himself to walk away, to let it go, he couldn’t. Not with Wren. She brought everything in him swirling to the surface like a damn magician. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “So Dade taught you how to use your body to get what you want, too? Thorough as fuck, that one.”

  She stared at him for a minute, like she couldn’t believe what he’d said, and her eyes widened. She shrugged off his jacket, balled it up in her fist, and threw it at his face. “Fuck. You. Roarke.”

  She turned on a heel and took off up the stairs. For a minute, he thought about letting her go. If she was mad at him, if she wouldn’t let him touch her again, then maybe it was for the best. But his feet were moving before his brain could tell him to get in his car and drive away. Wren had been hurt by his words. And he couldn’t deal with that, so he took off after her. While she was damn fast in those shoes, he had the benefit of flat boots. “Wren! Wait!”

  He finally caught up to her as she fumbled for her keys in her purse. She had the key in the lock and was opening the door when he reached for the knob. “Wait.”

  She whirled around and glared at him. Oh fuck, if looks could kill. She was furious, and the scrapes on her back from the brick wall made his heart ache. Her nostrils flared, and a bit of fight seemed to leave her eyes when her voice came with a little less heat. “Go home, Roarke.”

  She slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  He didn’t go home. With his palms flat on the door, he laid his forehead on the cool metal. “I’m sorry.”

  He listened intently for any sounds inside, and there it was, something brushed the door, and a heel clicked on the tile in the foyer.

  When she spoke again, her voice trembled a bit, even muffled through the door, and he wondered if she shut him out so he wouldn’t see her break. “How dare you?” She emphasized her words with a smack on the door, which rattled the hinges. “Like I can’t want sex or want sex with you on my own? It’s because I’m trying to manipulate y
ou?” There was a pause. “I can’t believe you said that to me.”

  “I said it as a reflex. What you said triggered me. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman tried to sleep with me or Erick to get what she wanted.”

  “Men do it, too,” she snapped back.

  Yeah, he knew Dade was a master at that. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

  She didn’t answer for a moment. “Do you—is that what you believe?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “I’ve done it though.” Her voice was calmer now, more muffled as she spoke more softly. “And I never regretted it, not once. It was my choice. But tonight, you made me regret it. You made me feel dirty about it.”

  He curled his fingers into fists and squeezed his eyes shut. “Let me in. I’ll say sorry to your face. On my knees. I’m sorry, Wren.”

  “Do you date?”

  The question came unexpectedly. “What?”

  “Do you date? Have you had girlfriends?”

  “No,” he said, maybe too quickly, but it was the truth. “I’ve met some women on jobs, but it’s always about release, and I usually drink first to loosen up.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “I’m not interested.”

  “Was there anyone specific?”

  There was a woman in France—Marie—sister of an art gallery owner he’d done work for. He visited her whenever he was in Europe. She called him mon beau ténébreux, which meant “dark soul,” and put up with him when he dropped in unannounced. He was fond of her, but it didn’t go much beyond like. “There’s a woman in Europe I see sometimes. But you have to understand it’s only about convenience.”

  “I see,” Wren said.

  He knew who she dated in college, but he asked anyway. “What about you?”

  “I had a boyfriend during my first few years in college.”

  His names was Charles Hannigan. He had red hair and a mole on his neck, and he played lacrosse. “Did he treat you well?”

  “Yeah, he did. We broke up because we just kinda fell out of like, I guess.” Another scraping sound from behind the door. “Look, I’m not going to pretend Dade didn’t teach me. But that was not the way it was with you. It’d never be that way with you. You understand that, right?”