Beneath the Secrets: Part One (3 page)

Blake tossed his jacket that was still on the bed and slid in front of her, lacing his hand into her hair and forcing her to look at him. “What are you hiding from?” he asked, and he wasn’t just talking about sex. “Me or something else?”

Her eyes went wide, sparking with emotion. “Nothing. I’m not hiding from anything.” She slid close to him, pressing her soft, perfect body against his. “What are you hiding from? And why aren’t you inside me already?”
 

The challenge ripped through him with the intended effect. He was instantly hotter and harder and that was a pretty sizable order considering how hot and hard he’d already been. Blake’s mouth closed down over hers, and this time, he did devour her. This time, he took all she had to give, and give she did. She met each stroke of his tongue with fervor, drinking him, taking when he thought he’d be the one doing the taking.
 

She shoved him to his back and climbed on top of him. “I can’t save you when you have your clothes on.” She reached for his jeans and stroked the thick ridge of his erection. “And you really feel like you want to be saved.”

He would have laughed at her using his line on him, but she distracted him by sliding down his zipper, her breasts eye-candy as she did. She tugged at his jeans and he gladly helped her walk them and his boxers down his legs.
 

“Your condom or mine?” she asked. “I assume you have one.”

This time he leaned up on his elbows. “Back pocket. Where’s yours?”

“My purse.”

“You came prepared.”

She retrieved the wrapper of two condoms. “I told you I’m efficient.” She climbed onto the bed and between his legs, right in front of his shaft, her soft hand wrapping his width.
 

“It appears you are,” he commented, only to find turn around was fair play as she bent down and sucked the head of him into her mouth.
 

“Sweet mother of Jesus,” he murmured, but unlike her, he didn’t lay back. He watched her lick him, suck him, for as long as he dared, before he reached for her. “Either put the condom on me or give it to me to do it.”

She wet her lips, making his cock jerk. “I want to finish.”

“Finish on me, baby. That’s where I want you.” He found the wrapper where she’d dropped it on the bed and tore it open, rolling it down his length, while she watched with so much admiration, he wasn’t sure he or his cock could bear much more.
 

He scooted back against the headboard and pulled her across his lap. Her delicate fingers dug into his shoulders and he lifted her, fitting his cock to the silky opening of her body, and pressing inside. His breath lodged in his throat at the tight, wet heat surrounding him, and only when she’d taken him all did he feel it trickle past his lips, did his eyes open and met hers.
 

The connection took him off guard, the crackle of awareness that he felt both in his body and yes, beyond. Emotion expanded in his chest, and it made no sense. He didn’t even know this woman. Tiffany. She’d said she was Tiffany. The name felt wrong, but she felt right. What the fuck was she doing to him and why was he letting her.
 

Suddenly, Blake needed that old high of intense pleasure, of driving himself over the edge of bliss where he felt nothing but a rush. He laced his fingers into her hair and buried his tongue in her mouth, devouring her, and pressing her down against his cock. Moving inside her, urging her into a rocking motion, and then pressing her backwards until her hands were on his thighs, her breasts thrust into the air.
 

“Ride me,” he ordered, caressing her breast, kissing her nipple. “Ride, baby.”

Her head dropped backwards, all that silky hair behind her, the creamy silk of her neck as sexy as the rest of her, moving against him, pumping his cock. He could feel her urgency growing, her need, and he had to taste it.
 

He pulled her to him, molding her close and dragging her mouth to his. His tongue stroked against hers and she gasped into his mouth. Suddenly, her body spasmed around him, grabbing his cock and milking his release. They clung to each other, shaking with the intensity of what had just happened between them.
 

When finally they stilled, he rolled her to face him, back the way they started, sliding one leg over hers, certain she was going to try to escape. She wasn’t looking at him, and he tilted her chin up. “Is this where we exchange files?” she asked, before he could say anything.
 

“Not even close,” he promised, brushing his lips over hers. “You haven’t even told me your real name yet?”

“Tiffany. My name is Tiffany.”

He stroked her cheek. “Tell me I’m the first you’ve ever done this with.”

She laughed nervously. “Did it seem like the first?”

“Yes,” he said. “The first time like this, for him.”
 

She scraped her bottom lip. “I didn’t do this for him. I wouldn’t have done this for him. I did it for me.”
 

The passion behind those words, the vehement force, spoke volumes. She’d made choices, just as she’d said she had, but she resented where they’d led her, where she felt she couldn’t escape.
 

He rolled her to her back, keeping one leg around hers, framing her body with his elbows. “Did what?”

Her eyes glowed with challenge. “Fucked you but now we need to exchange files.”

He saw the words as the wall they were. She was afraid he was seeing beyond what she thought he should. “We have all night and I’m far from done with you.” Blake slanted his mouth over hers and showed her just how not done he was with her.

The Escape...

Blake blinked awake as the maid walked into the room and screamed in embarrassment. He tried to sit up and felt the wave of nausea hit him like a head-on collision. Drugged. He knew the feeling. He’d lived it once before, on an assignment in Mexico City gone bad. The maid ran out of the room and the door slammed shut and thank God, because he was naked and headed to the toilet. He barely made it to the seat before he threw up. And threw up some more. He’d been screwed over by a beautiful woman. He would have laughed if he wasn't so fucking sick. He wasn’t a fool. Not by a long shot, yet, he’d acted like one.
 

And six hours later, when he’d finally dressed and confirmed the file was gone, he was finally capable of trying to figure out what had happened. He sat in the hotel room and dialed the offices where Tiffany Snow should work and asked for her. And just as he expected, she didn’t exist. Rachel, the woman who was supposed to meet him, wasn’t in.
 

Fifteen minutes later, Blake found where Kyle, one of the Walker tech experts, and a close friend keeping his pursuit of Alvarez off his brother’s radar, had parked a rental car in front of the hotel at a meter to wait on him.

Blake climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door, snatching Kyle’s sunglasses and putting them on. “Tell me you got an address on Rachel.”

“Of course,” Kyle said, giving him a sideways look from his too knowing green eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah. Thanks. You look like a smart-ass.”

“Really?” he asked, pulling into traffic. “I had no idea smart-asses looked like blonde blue eyed Adonis.”

“You don’t have blue eyes.”

“And you must be sick as shit because by default you just agreed I’m an Adonis.”

Blake slid down into the seat and didn’t bother answering. The movement of the car was pissing him and his stomach off. “Drive faster.”

Thirty-minutes of hell Denver traffic later, Blake and Kyle entered the back of a small house owned by Rachel. When she wouldn't answer her door, they entered and found her tied to a chair and gagged. “Who are you?” she screamed the instant Blake pulled the tape off. “And where is the bitch who tied me up? I’ll pay good money to kill her before my boss kills me for letting her do this to me.”

Blake knelt down beside her. He’d failed to prove himself to the boss beneath Alvarez and he had to find a way to fix that and fix it now. “I’m the guy who is going to save your ass so your boss doesn’t kill you.” He’d give her the list and arrange to get her out of the country a few weeks later, before she decided to spill his identity. It didn’t take long to convince Rachel of his plan.
 

There was just one lose end. Tiffany Snow. What had she wanted with that list? He didn’t like unknowns. He didn’t like being a victim. And he didn’t like letting himself do what he swore he wouldn’t do again. Get fucked. People got killed when you were that sloppy.
 

He was going to find Tiffany Snow. She could count on it. He was...

Part One

One week later....

Chapter One

“Don’t get on that elevator.”
 

Blake Walker ignored the warning spoken into his cell phone headset by fellow Walker Security pal Kyle Suther, and stepped onto said San Francisco elevator. He punched the button for floor twenty-five. “Too late,” he replied, watching the doors close. “I’m already inside.” And headed straight to a 4:30 meeting with Milo Mendez, the CEO of Newport Industries; a massive holding company that looked legit but laundered money for the Alvarez Cartel.
 

“Damn it,” Kyle cursed, “I know how badly you want Alvarez, but this meeting is trouble. Get off now.”

“Why?”

“Get off and then we’ll talk.”

“Translation,” Blake drawled cautiously, certain he was being monitored. “You don’t think I’ll approve of your explanation.”
 

“Because you never listen to reason.”

“Try me.”

Kyle made a frustrated sound and caved. “I just tapped into the company security feed. Tiffany Snow is sitting at the desk outside Mendez’s office.”

Tension shot through Blake’s body at the name of the dark-haired beauty who, only a week before in Denver, had fucked him, drugged him, and stolen a file that was supposed to prove he was trustworthy to the cartel. “Tiffany Snow is here? In San Francisco?”
 

“That’s right. You only thought you covered up the mess she created. She set you up and you’re headed to your own funeral.”

Blake’s mind raced with the real possibility Kyle was right, but he quickly discarded it for logic. If Tiffany Snow was working for Mendez after stealing documents meant for the cartel, then she’d double-crossed them in Denver. That meant she had as much to lose by exposing what had happened in Denver as he did. That didn't mean she wasn’t dangerous, or working for one of the cartel’s competitors, but she wasn't working for Mendez or Alvarez either.
 

“I can handle this,” Blake finally replied. “I’m staying the course.”

“Whatever you’re thinking about this woman, think again. It’s too big a coincidence that you were just put on a plane to San Francisco from Denver with no notice, and she’s there waiting on you.”

“I’m doing this.”

The elevator dinged and Kyle cursed, clearly having heard it. “Damn it, Blake, stay alive. If your brothers find out I helped you go after Alvarez and let you get killed, we’ll both be dead.”

“Thanks for the concern,” Blake said dryly, “but don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere but to my meeting.” The doors slid open and Blake ended the call before stepping onto the shiny white and gray tile of the sleek triangle-shaped lobby.
 

“Nice to see you’ve arrived safely, Mr. Wright.” the pretty twenty-something blonde behind the massive oval- shaped desk greeted him, using his alias. He’d never met her but he was clearly expected by her and, no doubt, Ms. Tiffany Snow.
 
The woman waved him to his left. “Straight down the hallway. It leads directly to Mr. Mendez’s private offices.”

The fictional character he’d carefully crafted as Blake Wright, down to a birth certificate, and a name close enough to his own to make any slip-up seem an accident, was arrogant, an egomaniac who would expect to be escorted to his destination.
 

Appropriate to that character, Blake shot her an annoyed look and headed the direction she’d indicated. No doubt Mendez was trying to downplay Blake’s importance, to shoot down his confidence despite a fictional track record of being good enough at neutralized threats of a lawful affiliation to those who lived unlawfully, to make him worth pursuing. What Mendez didn’t know, but soon would, was that the only thing Blake planned to neutralize was him and his Kingpin boss, and no one, not even pretty little Tiffany Snow, was going to get in the way of making that happen.
   

***

He was tall, dark, and deadly if she’d ever seen a man who fit the description. Impossible to forget. Impossible to avoid apparently, too, since he was here in San Francisco where she was, and not in Denver where he was supposed to be.
 

Kara Tatum (AKA Tiffany Snow and Kara Michaels) watched Blake Wright saunter towards her desk in a loose-legged swagger, his jeans and a leather jacket and all that thick raven hair tied at his nape, giving him a rough, tough, edgy look that was sinfully hot. And somehow, some way, she managed to remain cool and composed on the outside when she was a volcanic eruption of fire and ice on the inside. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d found out about his arrival an hour before and had time to strategize his impending visit; she was far from ready for another dose of this man.