Part 6 (1/2)

”So I swear. It's the twenty-first century, women are allowed to do that.”

”Allowed? Yes.” His gaze drops to my mouth. ”I didn't say I had a problem with it.”

”Then what's with the commentary?”

He barks out a cold laugh. ”You're such a good girl. I didn't expect you to have a filthy mouth.”

”Maybe your expectations were all wrong.” And maybe mine were, too. Because the way he's looking at me...it's anything but cold. But as quick as I see that flash of heat, it's smothered again.

He swears under his breath.

”Now who has a potty mouth?”

”Come on. The sooner we finish this up, the better.”

”Why?”

”Hailey.” That's it. He just says my name without any inflection or implied further statement. What the h.e.l.l am I supposed to do with that?

”Cole.” I say his name loaded with meaning. Cole, you're inscrutable and don't think for a second that's a good thing. Cole, stop dancing around the issue. Cole, please finger-bang me again, I really liked that.

He laughs again, his voice strained now. ”That's why. Get in the car.”

-eight-.

Cole.

Hailey's glowering at me from across the sitting room, probably wondering if I'll notice if she tries to escape.

I will. A dark, hungry part of my soul leaps at the idea of prowling after her, caging her against a window just before she tries to climb out. Licking my way down her neck and under that blue blouse she's wearing. She looks like a s.e.xy librarian.

A p.i.s.sed off, s.e.xy librarian, because we still haven't gotten to the meeting part of the evening. Her father is drinking port and watching Taylor hit on Tag. I don't like the gleam in his eye, because I know he doesn't like Tag, so that's some f.u.c.ked up s.h.i.+t if he's enjoying whatever game Taylor's playing there. Of course, it's not a hard leap for me to make to think the man's a pervert. I don't like anything about Morgan Reid, or our dealings with this family, except for Hailey, who doesn't belong.

Dinner was stilted, awkward and fake. I don't blame her for not wanting any part of this world. I'm used to the pa.s.sive aggressive layers of this social cla.s.s, but it's different with her here. I'm not used to being judged for merely being in their presence.

She may have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but Hailey's shucked the trappings of her wealthy upraising. Tonight she's wearing knee-high brown leather boots, tights and a jean skirt that had me taking notice of her legs as soon as she walked out of work. A b.u.t.ton down s.h.i.+rt makes it a work outfit, just barely, and the lace top of her cami underneath makes me think of all the ways I want to get her naked.

She's got curves that just won't quit, and now I know how f.u.c.king sweet and soft she is under those layers. I have this fantasy of her, naked in my bed, clutching a sheet in front of her as she yells at me. Her hair tumbles down around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her eyes will do that thing where they turn to emeralds when she's p.i.s.sed off.

Maybe I could drag her to a back hallway somewhere in this palace and tell her how her black and white view on the world is ten kinds of f.u.c.ked up. That there's no good and bad, just bad and worse. She'd yell at me at the same time as she arches her p.u.s.s.y into my hand, hating how wet she gets when we fight.

I'm a f.u.c.king a.s.shole for wanting to needle her, make her spitting mad, then slide my hand between her legs and get her off. And I don't really want to do that, because she actually is good, the exception that proves the rule. Beautiful and innocent, and I want her to stay like that for the rest of her life. She can't see what I see, it'll break her heart.

One of the hardest adjustments for me in moving from the military to the private sector was adjusting to clients like Morgan Reid. If Jason didn't have his own agenda, I'd never have taken him on as a client.

If Jason didn't do what he did, I wouldn't be in this line of work. I'd be on a beach somewhere, teaching Hailey how to surf and making love to her in an outdoor shower.

But in the hierarchy of what really matters, my base urges don't rank anywhere near international security.

I shutter my filthy thoughts as she makes her way around the room. By the time she's in front of me, I'm back to the cold motherf.u.c.ker she's used to. I give her a feral smile, because the best defense is a good offense.

”Why are you smiling?” she asks, rightfully suspicious.

”Thinking of ways I can torture kittens,” I mutter under my breath, keeping my eyes on her sister as she talks to Tag on the other side of the room. The last thing I need to see is Hailey blus.h.i.+ng if she gets it-or the adorable frown between her eyebrows if she doesn't.

”I'm not surprised.” A long pause, then she sucks in her breath. There it is. ”Wait, was that a p.u.s.s.y reference? Do you want to f.u.c.k my sister? Because that's disgusting. Which I guess would be par for the course for you.”

f.u.c.k. There's a part of me that wants to leave it at that, but her voice catches on the idea that someone would prefer Taylor-with the fake b.o.o.bs, fake laugh and fake food, no calories please-to Hailey's depth and s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l natural beauty.

”I wasn't thinking about your sister. Not now, not ever.”

”Then...” She trails off, and I glance sideways at her, unable to resist. Her cheeks are in fact pink, her lips slightly parted, and I'm totally screwed.

I turn toward her and drop my voice, ensuring that my words are for her ears only. ”Your p.u.s.s.y is the only one I want to devour. I want to lick you up and make you scream. Have you come all over my face and then drive my c.o.c.k so deep you'll feel me for a week.”

”That doesn't sound like torture,” she whispers.

”My plans always have a way of going off the rails around you. But if you want me to, I could bend you over that wingback chair, slide my hand up the back of your thighs and tease you while your family drones on about meaningless bulls.h.i.+t. Make you wet and aching, and leave you like that until I take you home.”

She gasps, her lips dropping into a perfect O', making my nuts ache and my d.i.c.k throb at the promise of her sucking me into her hot little mouth. A promise she didn't make, I need to remind myself. Even though we've shared a kiss and I've gotten her off, most of the time she doesn't like me.

With good reason, because I'm about to tell her she should do something she really doesn't want to do-put herself out there, give up some of her privacy, and all for her family, who don't seem like they'd do s.h.i.+t-f.u.c.k-all for her.

I'm not a nice man. I don't deserve to have her mouth anywhere near my d.i.c.k, that's for d.a.m.n sure.

As if we've arrived at the same conclusion at the same time, she tightens her face into a smooth mask that would rival a Kennedy and steps away from me. ”No, I don't think that would be a good idea.”

No f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t. ”And yet you're going to let me drive you home.”

”Do you still have a girlfriend?”

Regret pangs through my chest at the memory of hurting her like that. ”That relations.h.i.+p-and I use that word loosely-has been terminated.”

”Because of me?” She asks the question quietly, face still blank, but her lips are a bit darker. Her eyes a bit wider. Just enough that I think, she has no clue how much she affects me. She's full of hope, has no clue, and I'm a f.u.c.king a.s.shole for playing with her heart.

”Yeah.”

She stares straight ahead and slowly bites her lower lip. And I get a f.u.c.king hard-on again. ”Then maybe you can take me home,” she drawls with unexpected sa.s.s. ”If you're a good boy and get me out of here quickly.”

I clear my throat and step into the center of the room. ”Shall we talk about why we're all here tonight?”

-nine-.

Hailey.

I'm a complete idiot. It's like my panties just take themselves off as soon as Cole wanders past and whispers something filthy in my ear.