chair. Next to, close enough to feel the furious heat radiate off the other man’s body.
“I watched it all on the internal security feed. They came out of his office and he took her upstairs.” Elijah wiped a hand down his face. “Paraded her through the halls naked.”
Wade swore under his breath. So much for all those calls for revenge and promises to destroy her if she ever walked across the D.C. border again. In those early days after the arrest and as the scandal hit the papers, Jarrett had lived for the scenarios he created to go after her. Now, within ten minutes of seeing her, he already had it bad for the woman again.
“Not his most subtle move, but probably not a surprise.” Wade shifted and turned until he faced Elijah with their knees touching. “I told you, when it comes to her, Jarrett thinks with his dick.”
“Jarrett Holt, one of the few men
I
view as dangerous, and I’m a trained killer.” Elijah touched a hand to his chest. “This guy has a brain misfire over pussy?”
Wade winced over the new round of fury rising in Elijah’s voice. “You might not want to say it that way to him.”
“Fucking women.”
Wade barked out a laugh. “Don’t ask me. They’re not my thing.”
He balanced his elbows on his knees and stared at the thick black rug in the center of the room under his feet. He tried to reason this through, figure out the right words to say to Jarrett to get him to give Becca some money and send her away. The public viewed Jarrett as ruthless and cold, until someone wanted something, then all of a sudden he was the only man in town worth talking to. But Wade knew better. Jarrett rose from a pile of crap and created something. Then Becca broke him.
The arguments stopped screaming in Wade’s head long enough for him to notice the dragging quiet. He glanced up and caught Elijah staring. The heated anger had left his face and his gaze roamed now.
His fists unclenched and he spread his fingers on the thighs of his khaki cargo pants. “What is your thing, Wade?”
The change in the mood, the new type of tension swirling in the room, had Wade’s mouth going dry. “I think you know.”
“I know what worked for you last night. How you begged for my mouth as you grabbed the headboard.”
Images flashed in his head. Elijah between his legs, sucking as he worked a hand up and down on his cock. Wade had to swallow twice to get the words out. “The club opens soon.”
Elijah sat up, shifting to the front of the cushion and dipping his head until only inches separated them. “You saying no?”
Looked like Jarrett wasn’t the only one having trouble hanging on to an ounce of control. Wade wondered if the weakness for sex was contagious. Something circulating through the building’s air vents. “Have I said no since you got here?”
A small smile played on the corner of Elijah’s mouth. “Not once.”
“Then you have my answer.”
He pointed at the carpet. “Get on your knees.”
Wade wanted to say no this time. Wanted to keep the conversation, the pent-up anger, aimed at Becca and exhaust it so Eli could move on. Wanted to but failed when Elijah reached over and cupped his hand over the zipper of Wade’s pants.
His cock jumped to life under Eli’s palm. When his fingers traced the length and gave a squeeze, Wade forgot all about the other people in the building.
It had been this way from the beginning. Eli lay in bed for days as he recuperated. His fury against the CIA festered. Wade would visit and stand by the bed and listen, hoping to hear something that would help Jarrett’s case. Then one day Eli’s hand knocked against Wade’s leg. He ignored it, wrote it off as a strange gesture, until the next day when Eli’s palm rested against the outside of Wade’s thigh for more than a passing second.
Every offhanded brush had burned through Wade and shaken his up-until-then solid hatred for Eli, but Wade tried not to let the break in his defenses show. He lasted
“I watched it all on the internal security feed. They came out of his office and he took her upstairs.” Elijah wiped a hand down his face. “Paraded her through the halls naked.”
Wade swore under his breath. So much for all those calls for revenge and promises to destroy her if she ever walked across the D.C. border again. In those early days after the arrest and as the scandal hit the papers, Jarrett had lived for the scenarios he created to go after her. Now, within ten minutes of seeing her, he already had it bad for the woman again.
“Not his most subtle move, but probably not a surprise.” Wade shifted and turned until he faced Elijah with their knees touching. “I told you, when it comes to her, Jarrett thinks with his dick.”
“Jarrett Holt, one of the few men
I
view as dangerous, and I’m a trained killer.” Elijah touched a hand to his chest. “This guy has a brain misfire over pussy?”
Wade winced over the new round of fury rising in Elijah’s voice. “You might not want to say it that way to him.”
“Fucking women.”
Wade barked out a laugh. “Don’t ask me. They’re not my thing.”
He balanced his elbows on his knees and stared at the thick black rug in the center of the room under his feet. He tried to reason this through, figure out the right words to say to Jarrett to get him to give Becca some money and send her away. The public viewed Jarrett as ruthless and cold, until someone wanted something, then all of a sudden he was the only man in town worth talking to. But Wade knew better. Jarrett rose from a pile of crap and created something. Then Becca broke him.
The arguments stopped screaming in Wade’s head long enough for him to notice the dragging quiet. He glanced up and caught Elijah staring. The heated anger had left his face and his gaze roamed now.
His fists unclenched and he spread his fingers on the thighs of his khaki cargo pants. “What is your thing, Wade?”
The change in the mood, the new type of tension swirling in the room, had Wade’s mouth going dry. “I think you know.”
“I know what worked for you last night. How you begged for my mouth as you grabbed the headboard.”
Images flashed in his head. Elijah between his legs, sucking as he worked a hand up and down on his cock. Wade had to swallow twice to get the words out. “The club opens soon.”
Elijah sat up, shifting to the front of the cushion and dipping his head until only inches separated them. “You saying no?”
Looked like Jarrett wasn’t the only one having trouble hanging on to an ounce of control. Wade wondered if the weakness for sex was contagious. Something circulating through the building’s air vents. “Have I said no since you got here?”
A small smile played on the corner of Elijah’s mouth. “Not once.”
“Then you have my answer.”
He pointed at the carpet. “Get on your knees.”
Wade wanted to say no this time. Wanted to keep the conversation, the pent-up anger, aimed at Becca and exhaust it so Eli could move on. Wanted to but failed when Elijah reached over and cupped his hand over the zipper of Wade’s pants.
His cock jumped to life under Eli’s palm. When his fingers traced the length and gave a squeeze, Wade forgot all about the other people in the building.
It had been this way from the beginning. Eli lay in bed for days as he recuperated. His fury against the CIA festered. Wade would visit and stand by the bed and listen, hoping to hear something that would help Jarrett’s case. Then one day Eli’s hand knocked against Wade’s leg. He ignored it, wrote it off as a strange gesture, until the next day when Eli’s palm rested against the outside of Wade’s thigh for more than a passing second.
Every offhanded brush had burned through Wade and shaken his up-until-then solid hatred for Eli, but Wade tried not to let the break in his defenses show. He lasted
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