Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

PATCH

T he pressure of his lips moving over mine did more than hold me captive. It made me hungry—for more. Flashes danced behind my eyelids. Another place. Colder. The warmth of his mouth and a gasp of sound—his? Mine? I had no idea.

Fuck.

I wanted him.

Ice cold heat splashed through me even as he pressed his lean, trim, and tough body into mine. He was so polished and smooth it was easy to forget that he was also built for all kinds of heists. I didn't stumble or fall. If anything, it was like I glided effortlessly until my back was against the steel wall.

The contrast in temperatures between his heat and the metallic cool sent another shudder through me. His tongue plunged inside my mouth. Every stroke of it invited me to open further and I wanted to suck him in deep. Drag every drop of taste from it like he was the tartest, sweetest, best Jolly Rancher ever.

As soon as the urge presented itself, I put thought to action. A low groan vibrated through him and seemed to echo inside my soul. It had been a long time…

A really, really long time.

Fisting his shirt, I fought to pull him closer. Desire leaked through the cracks in my frustration and anger. So much was out of my control. So many irons in the fire. There was what I knew. What I thought I knew. What I had to know…

And what I'd forgotten.

Them.

I'd forgotten them. I'd forgotten their rescue and my own captivity. I'd forgotten a vital slice of life and it aggravated me so damn much. Locke gripped my ass and lifted me. It shifted the angle of our kiss and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Not once did he lift his head from mine. I only breathed when he did. The longer he kissed me, the more aware of him I became. The tingling sensation of his lips. How they went firm and then softened as though he were determined and savoring in equal measure. The scrape of stubble on his upper lip reminded me this wasn't a dream. The sharpness of teeth biting down showed me I wasn't the only one hungry.

The tension of the past days wound so tight through me, it threatened to snap. Fuck. I wanted him so goddamn much and the small voice of reason that tried to argue for patience grew quieter. Or maybe my need drowned it out.

"Do something for me," Locke ordered in breathless gasps between kisses.

"What?" I had my thighs resting on his hips, and his groin flush against mine. If not for all the clothing between us, we could already be…

"Tell me to back off," he said, his voice ragged and his control seemingly eroded. Justus Locke was one of the few "slick" operators I'd known for years. He could charm with a smile, and had a way of making even the most challenging security systems roll over for him.

"What?" The syllable burst out of me, surprise causing me to jerk back and I hit my head against the metal. Shock more than pain had me shaking my head. Locke's whole expression transformed as he slid a hand up to cup the back of my head.

"Don't do that," he ordered, the careful brush of his light fingers a gift against my scalp and bruised ego. Had I really just clanged my head off the side of the truck? I ran my tongue over my lower lip and savored the way he fixed on the motion with his gaze.

It was impossible to ignore how handsome he was or how much liquid heat filled his dark eyes. The growth of stubble on his jaw gave him a rugged look.

"Rugged looks good on you, Mr. Locke," I told him, and he let out a low groan.

"Goddammit, Beautiful. I need you to tell me to stop. To back off. Keep my hands to myself." A wry smile accompanied each suggested command.

"Nope," I said slowly, licking the taste of him along with that word off my lips. The fact his gaze seemed magnetized each time I spoke sent a thrill skating through me. "It's been a long time," I admitted.

"Fuck." He dipped, resting his forehead against mine. "Patch… Fallon… Goddammit, what do you want me to call you?"

A smile curved my lips, it lacked the reserve or hesitation of earlier smiles. For the first time since I woke in that house, trying to peer through the sooty pinholes of my memory for those lost shadowy weeks, I felt… whole .

"You can call me Fallon," I whispered. "If you want. I don't really know her anymore." I raised a hand to his face. "Right now, Patch seems on shaky ground."

His stubble scraped against my palm. The roughness of it was delicious. An incredible reminder that we were here, we were alive…

"The last thing you need are my demands," he said, the hoarse notes in his voice making me ache. "I'm not always a good man," he admitted. "I'm selfish. I like to take what I want. Sometimes, I like it even more when someone else has it and that means I have to steal it."

The confession bounced through me like some pinball fired in and stuck against a bumper that kept it flying.

"You… I've craved you for so long."

"I don't belong to anyone else," I reminded him. It came out a little snappier than intended but it didn't seem to dissuade Locke. If anything, his smile deepened.

"Hmm… For a while, I thought you belonged to your work. So deliberate in keeping me in my place. Yet, I could flirt with you and you never scolded me, even if you did politely slap me down."

A laugh worked its way through me. "I didn't know ‘slapping someone down' could be considered ‘polite,' but I didn't mind when you flirted with me. It was funny, but we were also working. When you're paying me to protect you and help… flirting is a distraction."

He let out a long sigh and then leaned more into me. Some of the tension seemed to bleed out of him but the lightness of his lips grazed my jaw. He kissed a path to my ear where he whispered, "I have a secret to tell you… whether we were working or not, I was always thinking about you. Flirting with you is like breathing air. I need it."

My hands found their way into his hair as he rested the weight of his erection against the apex of my thighs. Not for the first time, I really wished we were in fewer clothes. "Niccolò Machiavelli once said, "everyone sees what you seem to be, few know what you really are."

Locke bit down on my earlobe and my thoughts scattered. "He also said, ‘those few do not dare take a stand against the general opinion.'" The scrape of his teeth before he traced the whorls of my ear with his tongue sent another heated pulse through me.

"He didn't mean anything good by it," I fisted his hair as he began to kiss a path down my throat. "Just… don't worry about being something, just make sure you appear to be whatever it is…"

"Are you trying to warn me that you aren't what you appear to be?" The question came out so light, it sent a shiver over my skin. Maybe it was the way he sucked the skin over my pulse against his teeth. My nipples were taut, sensitive, and I swore my cunt clenched around nothing and I shifted my hips. It ground me against him and his groan gratified me more than I could admit.

"I'm saying…" Oh it was getting much harder to string syllables together much less thoughts because his hands were under my shirt. I had no idea when he'd done that or when he'd unhooked the bra. Such clever, beautiful fingers. "I'm saying that… you know the me I had to become. I think the most honest I've been about being me was when I was helping you guys."

That confession cost me everything. Wanting him? Wanting them? It was only going to complicate an already complicated situation.

"Well, your secret is safe with me," he promised, then he pushed my shirt upwards and the air seemed all that much cooler against my heated flesh. He glided his palms up my sides and I shuddered. "You really need to tell me to stop…"

"Are you asking me? Or telling me?" When his fingertips skimmed beneath my bra to cover my breasts, I was suddenly incredibly grateful to be wedged between him and the wall. I tightened my legs against his hips, holding onto him tightly. I didn't want to fall.

He nipped my lower lip, then slapped a hand against a control on the wall. There was a whirring noise as the sofa and table disappeared and a bed lowered from the wall. I gaped at it, the whole motion was smooth, nearly silent, and damn near magical.

"That's so…"

"Sexy?" He teased me with another nipping kiss to my jaw. "Amazing? Fantastic?"

"Hot," I corrected, and I twisted against him to look at the controls. It ground me against his erection again and I had to bite back a groan. Yet, I really wanted to know how it worked. It was fascinating.

"Fallon," Locke said, biting down gently over my pulse point. The sharpness jerked my attention back to him. Amusement glittered in his eyes and that well-defined, chiseled face of his with the high cheekbones and strong jawline was downright edible. I couldn't get over how intense and expressive his eyes were and right now, I was torn between drowning in them and figuring out all the fascinating upgrades inside the truck.

"Hmm?" I raised my eyebrows as he chuckled softly. "Don't take this personally, I still think you're amazing but that's…"

"Yeah, I'll give you a full tour later," he promised and then he tugged me away from the wall. His hands left my breasts, slipping around to balance me with his hands against my ass. Turning to the bed, he braced one knee against it and then locked his gaze on mine. "You can tell me to stop at any time," he whispered. "One word and I'll stop. I promise."

"Justus…" His first name slipped out. "Can I call you Justus?"

"You can call me anything you want," he murmured in a voice so soft it sent goosebumps prickling over my skin. "But I like the way Justus sounds on your lips."

It was hardly the first time I felt self-conscious and I was way too old to be shy or coy about it, but at the same time… "You are really good for my ego."

He huffed out a soft laugh that soon turned into chuckles. His humor pulled out my own laughter as we stared at each other. The amusement broke up the jagged pieces inside of me that kept grinding against each other. All the questions that haunted me about the missing time. All the shadows that crept out to torment me in my nightmares. They weren't erased, not even a little. But the laughter… It proved a balm to my soul I had no idea how much I needed.

The laughter rippled out of me and as soon as I'd tried to get it under control, our gazes would collide again and he would grin or I would—then we were laughing all over again. Finally, he fused his mouth to mine, merging our humor with a hot, tongue thrusting kiss that made me arch with need.

We landed together on the bed, dueling for control of the kiss and drowning in it together. His hot hands were under my shirt again and when he pushed the fabric up, I had to pull back from the kiss to wiggle it off and then I was bare chested cause the bra had gone with it.

All at once the moisture in my mouth dried up. The lights were still on, it seemed almost too harsh for the moment. His gaze drifted over me and I had to fight the urge to cover up. There were scars and marks all over me. My arms. My breasts. My stomach. I hadn't really thought about the fact they would be on display.

"I know they're ugly," I said, fighting for some equilibrium. "I didn't—you don't have to look at them."

Lifting his gaze to lock onto mine, Locke dipped his head until our noses touched and his breath feathered against my lips. "Nothing about you is ugly."

"Except—"

"Nothing," he said even more firmly. "Look at me, Fallon. Look in my eyes… I know beauty and art. I know magnificent pieces from the Greeks to the Renaissance. I know beauty in all its many forms. You… you are so goddamn beautiful you make me ache. I want to hide you away where nothing can ever touch you again. I want to give you a reason to smile every single day even if it takes me a lifetime to discover all the ways I can."

The unexpected poetry threatened to shred my heart. "But the scars…"

"Are scars," he said with a shrug. "They are a symbol that we survive, that we overcome, and they are a history of the path we've walked." Then as if to illustrate his point, he began to kiss his way down my throat to my shoulder. He mouthed each kiss gently, then traced some of the ruddy marks with his tongue while others he bit down around as though leaving his own.

Every single time his lips touched me, I forgot how to breathe. The ache inside of me unfurled.

"Nothing about you is ugly," he repeated his earlier statement, his hand closing over my throat. There was no pressure, just heat. The gentle stroke of his thumb over my pulse point encouraged both the rapid beat of it and my shallow breathing even as he soothed. "Nothing. When I look at you—all I see is you."

The words wrapped around me more effectively than any restraint. "You are a dangerous man." The need for him just seemed to amplify with each syllable.

"You need dangerous men," he whispered. "But I am never dangerous to you."

With his hand there around my throat, he rose up and he continued to drink me in with his gaze. Heat scorched through all of me as he looked his fill. Unease vied with embarrassment, but each time I squirmed, he dipped his head to kiss me again.

There was something just so fucking drugging about his kisses. They sent strokes of lust to curl through my body. Everywhere he touched with his lips or his fingers sent more liquid desire to flood through me. Then he was dipping his fingers down to my pants, he hovered, his fingers tucked into the edge of my waistband.

"What do you need to say to make me stop?" The hum of command echoed beneath the silky tone of his voice.

"Stop," I whispered.

"That's my woman," he said, then he let go of my throat and hooked both of his hands into my waistband. Still, he didn't move until I nodded, then his grin stopped my heart before he swept them down and took my panties with them. My boots fell off—I'd forgotten I'd even had them on— and I had to let go of his hips.

Then I was there, sprawled on the bed—naked and bare to his view. His smile didn't diminish for an instant as he ran his gaze over me.

"Fallon?" The presence of a growl underscoring my name had my thighs rubbing together and my nipples so hard I shuddered.

"Justus…"

"I think I'm going to lose my mind in a minute and do everything I can to make you lose yours." The certainty in his voice belied the hesitation in his words. "Just remember… you want it to stop, you just say stop. I swear to God, I'll listen to you."

My heart fisted at the declaration. "I trust you."

And I did.

I trusted him.

"I want you and I trust you…"

I knew what I needed to know where he was concerned. Then Justus closed his eyes.

"But…"

His eyes jerked open at the single syllable and his gaze clashed with mine. "But?" he prompted.

"But I'd really like it if you got naked now."