Blue Blooded (20 page)

“Yes.”

He looked deep into her eyes. “I'm clean. I don't want any barrier between us. You okay with that?”

“I trust you.”

He kissed her, making love to her with his mouth and giving her a taste of what was to come. A few short minutes later, he tore his lips away and jumped to his feet. He divested himself of his pants and crawled back onto the bed in between her waiting thighs. “I'm sorry I can't give you more foreplay right now, but if I don't get inside of you in less than ten seconds, I'm going to explode.”

She reached down to caress his stubbled cheek. “Then quit talking and fuck me already, Soldier Boy.”

He nipped her inner thigh and then kissed the spot. “Haven't you figured it out already? I like to do both at the same time.”

He rose up above her, lifting her leg and resting her ankle on his shoulder. “The ropes helped you learn how to relax in order for you to learn how submit to me, but you don't need them anymore. You belong to me, Tiger. And it's time I prove it to you.”

She smiled, knowing it was true. “Give me all you got.”

He notched his cock to her opening and, on a groan, thrust inside her. “I'd go on the run for the rest of my life to stay inside this pussy. You were made to take my cock, Rach.” He pulled back before slamming back inside her, his pelvis rubbing against her clit. “So take it. Take me. All of me.”

Although Logan dominated her with his cock, he was also out of control, lost to the world where only they existed. The cords of his neck bulged as he threw back his head with a snarl on his face. Chasing his own release, he was primal, consumed by the friction and heat inside her pussy. In this moment, he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him.

With his hand on her ankle, he lifted her leg off his shoulder and spread her wider. The new angle allowed his cock to hit that magic spot that she hadn't known existed until him. Her body trembled harder with every thrust. The added swivel of his hips drove her higher and higher until she could no longer see the ground.

“I feel your pussy tightening on my cock,” he said, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “It's time to let go, Rachel. I want to feel you let go. And then I'm going to come so hard inside that tight pussy of yours, I'm going to fill you up.”

She couldn't deny him.

From inside out, her body tensed as if frozen in time, and then everything exploded into fireworks of heat, waves of pleasure rolling over her.

“You're clamping down on my dick so hard, I can't hold back any longer. Feel what you do to me, Rach. Feel how much . . . ” His motions frenzied and a guttural cry roared from his chest. He stilled, his dick jerking and bathing her with his come.

He collapsed on top of her, laying his head on her chest as if listening for her heartbeat. She swept her hand over the top of his head and down his neck, over and over, embracing an intimacy she'd never experienced.

Sure she'd fucked before. But tonight was the first time she'd ever made love.

N
AKED AND ON
his knees on the marble floor, the Senator prayed at the altar of his lover, his arms secured behind him by thin bands of steel that dug into the flesh of his wrists and sent warm trickles of blood down his fingers and onto his back. They had completed the rest of the three-hour-long ritual that would purify his soul and prepare him for today's event.

His parents and brother still knew nothing of the plan, not because they would try to stop him but because of plausible deniability. Their concern for the life of their youngest son had to appear genuine when they learned he'd been infected with the deadly Leopold virus. Of course even then, they wouldn't truly give a damn about him other than they'd lose their chance to rule the country for another eight years. Once he explained to them how he'd orchestrated the whole thing, they'd finally accept him as a worthy equal in their family.

His lover squeezed the vise around his cock and balls tighter, stopping only when the cry of surrender ripped from his throat. If he hadn't been sterilized as a child as punishment when he'd lost his sixth-grade election to become class president to a girl, this torture would have likely done the trick. But he didn't care. He was flying high on endorphins, the hot rush of expectation simmering through the blood in his veins.

He couldn't have planned it better. Since Evans and Fink had fucked it up, he'd acted presidential and had adjusted the plan accordingly. What were two more murders in the scheme of things? The two were nothing, weaklings who in Darwin's evolutionary scale would fall below the canines. They were followers, their sole existence perpetuated on their ability to serve the alpha. Since his birth, he had been treated like the omega, but it was time to show everyone he was the alpha in his family. With his wife by his side, they'd return the country to better times, when the international communities didn't just respect the United States, but feared it.

Dropping the atomic bombs in Japan had been one of the bravest acts of the US government since the Civil War. It'd shown the world it wasn't afraid to take bold risks in order to ensure the safety of the American people. He shared the same vision as those men, yearned for a time when the rest of the world looked to the United States for guidance. With the Leopold virus and its patented cure in its grasp, the country would be in the position to threaten its enemies and protect its allies, all the while, secretly making him and his wife, Sari, rich beyond their wildest dreams. Since none of their stock holdings or the Antiguan accounts were in their names, the money would be virtually untraceable thanks to modern technology and a simple ATM card. Besides, who would believe the country's hero could be responsible for releasing a hemorrhagic fever virus? And exposing himself to it?

Most men might be scared of a virus with an 80 percent mortality rate, but then again, they hadn't suffered through fifty-eight years of torture. This wouldn't be the first time he'd be laid up bleeding from every orifice, pain suffusing his joints and muscles. However, it would be the first time he'd received medical attention for it. There was a slight risk the hospital would question his multitude of healed and unhealed injuries, but his wife knew to pay them well for their silence.

As his lover commenced the next portion of the torture and the scream tore from his throat, he came violently, ejaculate splashing the floor and mixing with his blood. He bowed his head in a prayer of thanks and waited silently for the torture to end.

More blood would be shed this afternoon.

He couldn't wait.

“S
O ONCE YOU
get into the mechanical room, you're just going to what exactly?” Oz asked, munching on Rachel's new addiction, chocolate-covered potato chips. “Walk off with the tank and . . . ?”

She looked at Logan and shrugged. “As long as we stop the virus from releasing, the rest we'll play by ear.”

They had spent the past three hours going over every step of tomorrow's operation to save the world. While Logan's friends wanted to come with them to the Tuscany Hotel, they all agreed that they'd need to stay behind to provide any necessary intel and serve as the second line of defense should anything go wrong. The fact was she and Logan didn't want to draw them into it any more than they already had. They'd already broken several federal and state laws that would put them behind bars for the rest of their lives. If things got ugly tomorrow, she and Logan didn't want the guys' lives on their consciences.

“Any luck finding out if Evans and Fink have gotten any large deposits of money in the past few months?” she asked Rowan.

Every time she looked at him or Oz, her cheeks heated. Last night's memory of them was burned onto her retinas. Even though they knew she'd watched them, Oz remained the same smart-ass as yesterday and Rowan was just as reserved. It was hard to believe only hours before, Oz's tongue had been on Rowan's cock while today the two of them barely interacted except to discuss something technological.

“I did find something,” Rowan said flatly. “Fink's mother has received a deposit of just under ten thousand dollars every week for the past five weeks from an Antiguan bank. The foreign account is registered to a dummy Antiguan corporation that was set up to shelter its multiple clients by keeping their names off of it, and unfortunately, the list of who those clients are isn't kept online.”

She sighed. “So it's impossible to trace.”

“No, not impossible,” Rowan said. “Just more difficult. I need more time, but I'll be able to get you that information.”

“Why did you even think to look at his mother's bank account?” Logan asked, his shoulder knocking into hers as they sat next to each other on the small couch in the corner of the room.

Rowan turned to them. “When I didn't find any deposits into his account, I checked his closest relatives. Sometimes people hide money in their spouses' accounts, and since Fink doesn't have a spouse, I checked his next of kin, which was his mother.”

“Maybe the money his mother is receiving is legitimate,” she offered. It was unusual but not unheard of. Maybe it was some kind of investment that was finally paying off.

Rowan avoided looking in her eyes, choosing to keep his gaze on Logan. “Probably not. Before the deposits, she had less than twenty dollars in her account. Her police records show multiple arrests and short prison sentences for drug possession and intent to distribute. She's a junky and, from the looks of it, a bad one.”

She shot up from the couch. “You can get into the police reports?” At the rise of his brow, she switched tactics. Of course he could; the man had already proved his hacking talents. “I mean,
since
you can get into the police reports, would you mind pulling up the one on Logan and me? I want to know what evidence they're using to support their claims that Logan killed Rinaldi.”

They couldn't have any evidence since Logan hadn't committed the crime, right? Everything she'd heard on the news so far was mere conjecture about his motive for wanting Rinaldi dead. Nothing had been released about the evidence.

She paced the room as Rowan worked his magic. It wasn't more than a couple of minutes later that Rowan pulled up the report.

“Here it is,” he said. “According to this, the Beretta M9 pistol used to shoot Anthony Rinaldi was registered to Logan Bradford.”

Logan jumped up from the couch. “No way. Yes, I used the Beretta M9 in the army, but I have a Glock now. There's no way that gun was registered to me.”

She joined Logan's side and rubbed the back of his neck in reassurance. “Obviously, once Evans and Fink had someone to pin Rinaldi's murder on, they doctored the records. Any fingerprints on the gun?”

Rowan scrolled down the screen. “Wiped clean. They also didn't find any of Logan's prints at the scene of the crime.”

“But of course, they did find Evans's and Fink's,” Hunter pointed out. “What does it say about why the agents were there?”

Rowan paused, reading. “Evans and Fink were assigned to follow Rinaldi once he was released from prison to see who he communicated with. According to the report, Rinaldi went home and discovered his wife and his children had gone into hiding. Evans and Fink observed through a telescope as Rinaldi went on a rampage through his house and broke down. An hour later, he snorted three lines of what was later confirmed as a potentially fatal combination of exceptionally pure cocaine and heroin and got into his car, driving west and parking in front of Cole DeMarco's home. Evans and Fink couldn't pass the gate, and since they were to remain out of sight, they parked farther down the street, keeping their eye on Rinaldi's car.”

“That explains why Rinaldi was walking funny,” she said to Logan. “He was drugged.”

“How does a guy who had been in prison for months get drugs that fast?” Logan asked, moving to stand in front of her.

She smiled, the thrill of putting together the pieces of a story a high she never got tired of. “Two corrupt FBI agents give it to him as a coming-home present. They must have known he used. It would have been in his records. And after going without drugs for months, he wouldn't turn them down.”

Logan nodded. “The drugs were supposed to kill him. When they didn't, Evans and Fink had to come up with a different plan. But why did Rinaldi come to Benediction?”

It was a good question and something that had bothered her since that night. The man had just gotten out of prison. Had he really come to Benediction just to gloat about his release? The report stated he'd broken down upon finding his family gone. That had to mean something.

“One thing you could always say about Rinaldi was he loved his wife and kids,” she pointed out. “He never would've placed them at risk of becoming sick with the Leopold virus. With them gone and out of his control, he couldn't guarantee their safety. What if in that moment he changed his mind and decided he wanted to back out of the plan? Who would he go to for help? Not the FBI, who were already involved. Who would believe a man like him?”

Understanding dawned in Logan's eyes. “You think he was coming to convince Cole to help him?” He gritted his teeth. “Only we never let him get the chance.”

She laid her hand on his cheek. “Bullshit. He had the chance. He just didn't take it. The man was a psychopath. Who even knows if he remembered why he came to Benediction in the first place. He was hopped up on a high dose of cocaine and heroin, and he wasn't sane to begin with. You did the right thing by throwing him off of Benediction's premises.”

Logan nodded as he scratched the back of his neck, but she could tell he shouldered some of the blame for the events that followed Rinaldi's appearance at Benediction.

“Didn't Cole's video cameras catch the murder?” Logan asked Rowan.

“Unfortunately, according to the report, he's got videos set up on the area in front of his gate, but not the patch of road where the murder occurred,” Rowan said. “The video shows him leaving and both of you following, then you disappear from the feeds for a good five minutes, during the time when the murder took place.”

“When we were behind the bushes,” she muttered.

Rowan continued, speaking over her. “The camera picks you up again when you ran up the driveway and back into Cole's house.”

Logan clenched his hands. “So there's nothing on the tapes to help exonerate us.”

“It's worse,” Rowan said. “Evans and Fink claim they witnessed it all, but didn't get there in time to save Rinaldi.”

“Son of a bitch,” Logan shouted, startling her by punching the wall.

“Shh.” She rubbed his back. “Don't worry. We're going to stop them and prove we didn't do it. Trust me.”

After a large exhale, Logan turned around. “Isn't that my line?”

She gave him a smile she didn't quite feel at the moment. “I thought I'd borrow it. Hope you don't mind.”

“I don't.” He bent and whispered in her ear. “How you feeling by the way? Sore?”

Arousal blasted through her. Heck yeah, she was sore. And she loved it.

She opened her mouth to reply when Oz interrupted. “Hey, guys. Did you know you have an attorney who held a press conference in defense of you two?”

Oz put the news article up on one of the larger monitors.

“Holy shit,” Rachel said. “It's Kate.”

She wasn't sure why she was surprised. It wasn't the first time Kate had proved how far she would go to help out those she cared about.

“She's my law partner,” Logan explained to his friends, his eyes never leaving hers and conveying everything he didn't say.
And nothing more.

“And my best friend,” she added, giving Logan a real smile that this time she felt all the way into her bones.

“Well, she's fighting to clear your names,” Oz said. “Already got the charges dropped for the dog kidnapping and the gas station robberies.” He whistled. “That girl is fine.”

“She's taken,” Rachel said, thinking of Kate lighting up every time she spoke about Jaxon. “Very taken.”

Sawyer stood from his chair. “Who's that woman standing behind her?”

She squinted, barely making out the figure in the background. “That's Lisa. Another one of my friends. She's a publicist, so she helps coordinate press conferences for Kate and Logan when necessary. Why?”

Sawyer stared intently at the photograph. “She looks familiar. How long have you known her?”

She bit her lip, thinking back to when she first met her through Kate. “Not too long. She was a legal secretary at the firm where Logan and Kate interned their third year of law school. Kind of mousy, but she's a spitfire when she needs to be. I'd hook you up, but she's not into kink. Like at all. I don't even think she dates.”

None of her friends were an open book, with the exception of Gracie, which was probably why she felt comfortable with them. They all had their secrets, and they didn't need to share every detail about their lives with one another. But Lisa didn't volunteer anything about herself. She was almost as good as Rachel when it came to deflecting personal questions. In fact, Rachel didn't know much about the woman's life before she'd worked at the law firm. But it wasn't as if they knew about how Rachel had been raised either.

Sawyer raked his fingers into his hair and blew out a breath. “Fuck. I need . . . ” Without saying anything more, he strode out of the room.

“What's with him?” Hunter asked, stealing the bag of chips from Oz's hands.

Oz frowned. “No idea.”

She guessed their meeting was over. It was just as well. They were ready for tomorrow—or, at least, as ready as they could be. She could think of a dozen things she'd rather be doing with her mouth right now than talking.

As if reading her mind, Logan pushed an errant hair behind her ear before whispering into it. “So, one more night in this place. Got any idea of how you'd like to spend it?”

He was going to make her say the words.

She looked into his eyes, her heart suddenly pounding so hard she wouldn't be surprised if the other guys could hear it. “You said when I was ready, you'd show me what it was like to be fucked by two men. Well, I'm ready for it. Tonight. With you.”