Emotionally Compromised (Emotionally Compromised Series) (31 page)

Questions & Connections

MARCUS GIBBS

I keep rubbing at my lips as I walk through the double doors back inside. I feel smug, but still empty. I don't have it in me to dissect my feelings. Regardless of how I feel, I am still trying to gather my head around the encounter on the balcony.

Was it a punishment kiss to get back at Jeremy? Because I'd prefer a punishment fuck. Not that I am complaining or ungrateful.

My lips feel like they are on fire. It's a strange sensation, to feel victorious, but at the same time feel like you took a huge loss. When she asked me if I wanted to kiss
her, I couldn't wrap my head around it. Why?
I watched her eye me like lion would a gazelle. I tried fighting her off with my intense gaze, but I couldn't hold it, not with such a tempting offer
.

What is it with these women? Do I not have any control over myself?

I rub my tingling lips one last time as I look across the room to see Jeremy and Alex having what seems like an intimate, heated conversation. I feel the corners of my mouth perk upward. Maybe he saw our kiss.

The thought is enough to put me in a better mood
, and I continue my stroll. Maybe for once the girl will ditch Jeremy, and he will feel some sense of loss. It would be good for him.

Adessa appears in front of me, her plump, red lips pursed in a hardline. Wonder what she
is mad about now?

"What were you doing with that woman outside?"

My brows furrow. Is she jealous? I don't quite understand the expression in her eyes. Her tone only makes my anger flare. "Excuse me?"

"That woman. Do you know her?
You seem to!"

I let my eyes dart around, worried that she is making a scene. I grab her dainty elbow and
walk her toward the door. I know we've only been here for an hour or two, but I am ready to get out of here. "I don't want to talk about this here."

She yanks her elbow away. "Answer me. Do you know much about her?"

I can't help but wonder why she is asking. "What's it to you? And if you must know, I only met her about a week ago."

Adessa nods
, and this time links her arm around mine and leads me outside.
Psycho bitch.
What is going on?

I am eager to leave, and
I have a series of questions and concerns flooding my brain right now, so I follow her lead.
Why am I always the one following?

September hits us when we make it outside, and a bitter chill crawls over my skin as I hand the valet my ticket, watching Adessa suspiciously. She stares off into the distance, chewing something over.

"Are you mad?" I can't figure out why I am asking. She isn't my girlfriend. At least, I don't think so.

Her piercing, onyx gaze shoots to mine. "No, I am not mad. I had Jeremy to distract me."

It feels like a jab, but I decide not to approach that directly. "About that, why is he here? And why is he still alive?" Ultimately, this is the golden question.

Her
perfectly plucked brows angles upward. "That is a good question, Marcus. I don't have a clue. Do me a favor and only speak of such things when we are in private, will you?"

My face flushes, and I feel like an errant child
being scolded. The brief glee I felt from that stolen kiss seems to be dissipating quickly. My Mercedes arrives, and we slip inside.

Streetlamps cast s
hadows over us as we drive toward my apartment, and I feel more comfortable under the veil of darkness. I don't want her seeing my face, and I don't care to see hers. I catch myself rubbing at my bottom lip, wishing the tingles I felt before would return. At least that felt new.

I shake my head, not taking my eyes off the road as I try to distract my misplaced thoughts. "I saw that you were getting cozy with Jeremy."

I can practically hear her sphinxlike smile. "Jealous much?"

I roll my eyes, my face contorting into annoyance.
I am fucking you, not dating you.
"Absolutely not. It was typical of him. I thought it looked like you were having a good time."

"Shouldn't I be saying the same thing to you? You kissed that girl. I saw you. Do you like her?"

I feel my shoulders tense. "I told you before. I don't even know her."

"Didn't seem like that."

Does she think I am lying? I let out an exasperated breath.

"Now I should be asking you if you are jealous."
However, I could care less. I have never had such an extreme emotional detachment to someone I have fucked.

She lets out a quick shriek of laughter. "No, no, no. I would just like to see you happy."

Her statement throws me, and this time I tear my eyes away from the road and look over to see her staring at me. Her onyx eyes give off an eerie glow under the passing lights, but she seems sincere. Why? "Well, who knew that you could care about anyone but yourself?"

The words slip from my lips
, and I immediately feel a swell of anxiety. She could easily claw my face off, but instead, I hear her laughter once again. "You're right. I'm selfish, but I like it that way."

I shake my head, focusing on the road. I stifle
a chuckle at her brutal honesty.

"So do you like that woman, then? The one that belongs to Jeremy Hunt?"

Just like that, the light-hearted moment is gone. I grip the steering wheel with white knuckles.

"That's it! You do want Jeremy's girl!" she exclaims as if she has solved the puzzle.

I let my anger surface. "Don't act like you know anything about me! I meant everything I said. We don't know each other. If you must know, she was a girl I was interested in, but it didn't get far enough, and in typical Jeremy style, he beat me to the finish line."

"Hmmm
," she purrs. "It all makes sense now. Is that why you want Jeremy dead? Because of that dumb girl?"

Her tone catches my attention. There are two issues that beg to be addressed. "Again, Adessa, please refrain from thinking you know anything about me. There's a lot more to this than some girl. She just happens to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Let's not forget the biggest issue. I think you owe me a refund. I need to know why Jeremy is still alive." I clench my jaw.

Both of her hands curl into fists on her lap. "I told you." Her tone flatlines. "I have no idea, but I assure you, I will find out. You could probably take care of it yourself. I'd be willing to give you the five grand back and maybe a bit extra out of my own pocket if you do."

The fluidity and ease of her words as they tumble out of her mouth shock me. If you weren't paying attention, you might assume she was asking for something mundane and typical, like adding cream and sugar to her coffee.
However, she isn't asking about coffee. What the hell?

I make a sharp right turn into my parking garage
, and pull into my spot. I turn to face her. She can't mean what I think she means.
My body feels cleansed of drugs, and my logical mind peaks through my fading drug stupor.

"What are you implying? And before I forget, do you know Alex?"

Her eyes widen. "Is that her name?" She doesn't know her name?

"So, do you know her or not?"

She turns away, smoothing out her dress, and I get the sinking feeling she is hiding something. "I don't know. She seems familiar."

I want to
say, “She has that effect on people,” but I keep my mouth shut.

As if sensing more questioning, she turns to face me. Unbuckling her seat
belt, she grabs my face and kisses me hard.

All I can do is compare it to the one I had less than an hour ago. Damn Adessa for wiping my lips of the previous feeling.

When I feel Adessa's tongue dip into my mouth, I think of a snake, and that she tastes like poison, but I do nothing to stop it, and kiss back. I know she is manipulating me, but I'm powerless.

My testosterone-driven body is hungry again as I feel my pants twitch. I get angry at my reaction, but again, I don't push her away.

She lets go of my lips, and slips her hand into my blazer pocket, pulling out my untouched baggie of coke. Her red lips stretch into a grin. "Let's go upstairs. We have to talk, but first ..."

Who am I to argue? I'm aching for a fix.

Can't Please Them All

ALEX TURNER

I am a smug mess as I tug Jeremy through the empty galleries that would eventually lead us back to the party, our footsteps echoing off the walls and art.

He is reluctant, and tugs at my arm, causing my body to twirl back into his grasp. I let out a series of giggles, and Jeremy rewards me with a boyish smile.
Oh, what I would do for that smile.

"I love that sound
." He crushes his lips to mine, devouring me again as he presses my body against his with his hand at the small of my back, sending tingles up my spine.

I feebly try pulling away, getting words in between kisses. "Jeremy! Stop. You have to give your speech. We have to get back."

"Fuck 'em." He trails kisses down my neck, and I can feel his grin against my skin. Who knew that Jeremy had a rebellious, careless side?

This time I shove him away, fighting my lust. How can I still want more when I have already had so much? "Jeremy! This is a charity event! Show some decency."

He growls, and his humid breath sends a wave of goose bumps over my skin before he fully lets me go. "Fine, but once I give the speech we are getting the hell out of here. As childish as it sounds, I want you all to myself." He pauses before continuing, "Did you do what you needed to, then?"

There is annoyance in his question, and I know he is referencing my interaction with Marcus. After
our latest tryst, I'd rather avoid the topic.

Noticing Jeremy's bowtie is still undone, I step up to him, grab both ends, and
tie it for him. He watches my every move. When I catch his gaze, I notice the coming storm in his ocean-blue eyes.

"Yes, I did
," I respond.

"Good."

I flash him a smile after finishing his bowtie, and take in the sight of Jeremy in a tuxedo.
And all mine
is the only thought I can muster as I appreciate his broad shoulders and his taut stomach. My eyes linger too long on his waistband.

"You're staring again, Alex."

I shrug, and he lets out a belt of laughter.

I think we have had enough fun for the moment. I
stroll back toward the event in hopes he'll follow me. "C'mon, let's get this over with, so we can go back to our version of happily ever after. As crazy as it is."

I replace my earpiece. Jeremy comes up behind me, takes my
hand, and intertwines his fingers with mine as we enter the long hallway. The closer we get, the more we can hear the music echoing toward us.

He squeezes my hand as we make it to the end, and it feels like half the room turns to look at us. Jeremy is too high profile for my liking.

A young man with a highly caffeinated disposition and a clipboard in hand strolls up to us. "Mr. Hunt, we've been looking for you. If you could make your way to the podium, that would be most appreciated." The man manages a jittery, weak smile. He is quick to go on his way, as if Jeremy's icy stare isn't one he's willing to bear for longer than a few seconds.

Jeremy turns to me with a wolfish grin
, and he releases my hand to adjust his bowtie once more. He leans in close and whispers, "What makes you think I'm not still mad? We have a lot to talk about, Miss Raven." His eyes glitter with a menacingly seductive warning.

My eye twitches with disbelief, and I am not sure if he is serious.

"What could you possibly be mad about now?" My words feel whinier than I intend. Jeremy has a tendency to make me feel like a hormonal teen susceptible to tantrums, rather than a professional, in-control federal agent.

Standing up straight and smoothing out his blazer, he sidesteps my question. "How do I look?"

I roll my eyes and chew my lip. "Dashing as usual, Mr. Hunt. Now, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

He gives me another grin, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He leans in once more. His close proximity is intoxicating. He smells delicious
, like crisp cologne, soap, and sex. It's a heady mixture, and it captures my attention.

"Oh, you know, lots of things, Miss Raven. I want to discuss you, and a photo I noticed in your bedroom. Also, the one topic that seems to be plaguing my mind this evening is
, what could be in my file? I know one exists, and I know you've read it."

Derek, I am going to kill you.
After our tryst in the gallery, this topic has caught me off guard. My eyes widen, and I hold my breath. Those are all tougher topics than he might think. He always wants more information. So, was he snooping, then? I should have hidden that photo. Hell, I should have junked it.

My eyes tense as he watches me with a comical smirk, which irks me, but that is what Jeremy does to me. Always riling me up.

He hums as if he is pleased to have struck a chord.

"Hmm. Always a pleasure, Miss Raven. We'll talk later
, then, yes?" Before allowing me a response, a quip, or an evil glare, he kisses me chastely on the lips and turns around to make his way over to the podium for his speech. The bastard doesn't even turn around again to see my carefully constructed raised eyebrow and pursed lips. He reserves this conversation for after our little escapade, the rascal. What am I going to do about that man?

My subconscious is quick to respond:
Nothing. You like him the way he is, and you know it.
If I could guess, I would say my subconscious is sticking her tongue out at me.

I sigh, glad that I finally have a moment
alone. I run my fingers through my hair, smoothing out any parts that might have been tangled in my gallery tryst with the gala's leading man. I'm about to take a step forward when I feel a familiar tight grip at my elbow. I yank it away. I've been out here thirty seconds and I am already being bombarded.

"Derek, what is it? Can't I have two seconds alone?"
When I turn to face him, my expression falls. He looks beyond pissed off.
Not him too!
However, this one seems more legitimate. I adjust my tone. "What's wrong?"

He
guides me a few steps away from the handful of onlookers. "Alex, you have some nerve."

I stop to face him, rubbing where he held my arm, confused by his statement. "Excuse me?"

"You do realize you are on duty, Agent Turner?" He whispers, but his tone is authoritative.

I roll my eyes, but know by his tone
that he is expecting formality. You don't work with someone for years and not know his mood shifts. "Yes, sir, and your point is?"

His thick brows
narrow and he looks pained, but also downright angry as he rubs at the scruff on his chin. "It was so nice of you to remove your earpiece, knowing that it is my only way of communicating with you, but you forget your dumb boyfriend has a microphone too."

My face pales. Jeremy has a molar
mic.
I didn't even think about it. I open my mouth to speak, but Derek is quick to cut me off.

"There is a lot I can take from you, and I know w
e had this big talk earlier, but unprofessionalism aside, I absolutely cannot take hearing my ex-girlfriend, who I am still trying to get over, fucking her new asshole boyfriend."

His foul language and his disapproving tone
make me consider throwing some of his escapades in his face, but I bite my tongue, trying to have some self-control. I feel bad. I wouldn't want to hear him either.

"It is nice to know I get under his skin, and that he doesn't like me near you, but let's not let that happen again. Got it? I had to pull my earpiece out, and you gave Dave in surveillance quite an earful too."

My cheeks redden. I am a fucking idiot.

I can see him trying to shake it off as he squares his shoulders.

"I am beyond pissed, but this topic is not open for discussion. And if you care at all, Marcus and that woman left after your encounter with him. We will start keeping track of his phone immediately. For now, your boyfriend is about to go onstage. It is probably a good idea to keep an eye on the perimeter of the crowd for anything suspicious. That's an order."

Derek
taps his ear, and then runs an exasperated hand through his slicked-back hair as he walks away from me without letting me get in a single word.

He must be pissed. He doesn't want to talk about it. He wants to pretend it never happened, and he wants to move on and focus on the job. Sounds like me a week ago.
Oh, Derek, this is how we deal with things, isn't it?

Sighing once more, I decide to do the same thing. I think of the gun strapped to my leg as I stroll through the crowd gathering at the front of the room.
I take note of Jeremy in the distance, standing side-stage, speaking with a burly man with a beard, and see his at-ease business demeanor. Even from here, I sense the commanding presence he exudes.

I
scan the veranda, remembering my forced kiss with Marcus, and wonder briefly where he went to and why. Then, as a precaution, I check the crowd for suspicious activity: guns, fidgeting, any questionable people. I station myself at the back of the room as the band begins to quiet. The presentation, speeches, and silent auctions are beginning soon.

Jeremy pulling out his notes as he steps up onto the stage, his 6'4" frame taking long strides, commanding all the
women's, and even some of the men's, attention. He doesn't have to ask the room to quiet as he steps up to the podium. He's powerful without even trying.

I wonder briefly how I got
so lucky, but then remember all the questions Jeremy wants to confront me with, and I find my muscles tightening under my skin.

I don't want to talk about my past, or my parents. What's there to know? It's a dead-end story. Right
now, I have bigger fish to fry, and we can discuss my past after we have enough evidence to take Marcus into custody. Jeremy wants to know about his file. Shouldn't he know what is in it already? Womanizer, businessman, a few dropped assault charges—it's a miracle I gave him the time of day.
I feel my lips wanting to twitch into a smile at the thought, because if only he knew what was in my own file.

It's a miracle he deals with you!
My subconscious is quick to come to his defense, and I wonder whose side she's on.

I shake my head at my ridiculous internal dialogue
.

Derek's voice echoes among all the other voices in my head. "Agent Turner, FYI: I'm stationed at the double doors near the balcony."

I make it a point not to let my eyes drift to Derek. He's trying to be good and contained since our most recent discussion, and I have to give him credit. I don't want to upset him any more than I have to. I'm not one to be careless, yet I have been lately.

I make a mental note to tighten the loose ends
in my life, starting tonight. Maybe that can be part of the conversation between Jeremy and me. I let out another loud huff of frustration.

"Tough gig, huh
, Turner?" I forgot he could hear me.

"Hmm," I manage as I watch Jeremy begin his speech. I think of both of the men in my life, and how important they are to me.

Derek is quick to read my mind. "You can't please 'em all, Turner."

Ain't that the truth?