Endgame (13 page)

“I never got to go to camp as a kid.” He tried hard to look sad and unfortunate. “I deserve two camps for my suffering as an underprivileged youth.”

She thought for a moment and gave him a satisfied smile. “If you can get permission from Chase, I’ll give you spy camp.”

“What? No.” He’d rather strike a deal with the real Satan than talk to Chase on the phone. “You don’t make deals with the devil incarnate. You just don’t.”

“I need permission to instruct spy camp, and Jake doesn’t have clearance to give it.” Charlotte shrugged. “I’m not calling Chase for this, so you decide how bad you want your spy camp.”

“Don’t tell him. Lie.”

“He would know. He knows every-fucking-thing, and spy camp would fall on the outer edges of things I am definitely not allowed to do.”

“What about sex camp?”

“Smack in the middle of things I am not supposed to do, but at least it’s not breaking every clause in my contract.”

He wanted sex camp more than spy camp. But he was greedy and would try for both anyway. What the hell. “And Jake?”

“He won’t go for any of the camps, unless sex camp involved him watching. He likes watching.”

“Hell, no.” Aaron frowned. He’d let this drop, for now. Somehow, he’d get her to agree.

Chapter Seven

They parked and walked down to the fairly empty beach, blanket in hand. A few people jogged along the water, and one guy waved a metal detector over the sand. But for a December weekday afternoon, it was a quiet, desolate stretch of sand.

Aaron spread the blanket out and lay down on his side, watching the waves, the sun dipping down toward the horizon. Charlotte sat stiffly on the blanket, head up and at attention. She scanned the shore, up the beach, down the beach. It was subtle, but Aaron knew her well enough now to know what she was doing. His own sexy, private guard dog. All she needed was a spiked collar and the sic ’em command.

“Baby, come lie down with me.”

“I’m doing my job.”

He glanced both directions on the empty beach. “I think we’ll see the hit man in plenty of time.”

She pursed her lips, concentrating on a group of runners by the water. “Snipers?”

Way, way too intense. “Can you run over to a sniper and disarm him before he kills me?”

Her smile was frosty evil. “I think I’ll just kill you myself and save the poor man some work.”

Aaron shrugged. “If you killed me, do you think the sniper would give you a cut of his money? Or would he just take it all himself, despite you doing the work?”

“Are you for real?”

“I hope he pays you.” He patted the blanket next to him. “Come lie down, baby.”

“Stop calling me baby.” She scanned the beach more intensely.

Damn it, she was ruining his girlfriend plans. So far, he noticed she’d start out in charge and the power would flip. He liked that. How could he jumpstart that flip, then? A challenge might do it. “How about a run on the beach? A race to the water and back? I bet I can win.”

That got her attention. She narrowed her fake brown eyes on him. “
You
are going to race
me
.”

“I’m taller.” He shrugged but knew he had better chance of having a ménage with nuns than beating her. “I run every day.”

“Do you, now.” She scanned the beach again. “You realize I can just shoot you at the finish line and win by default?”

“Yeah, but then there’s paperwork. More so, because we’re in a public place. The cops would be angry. Ma’am.” He cocked his head at her and stood. “Race me. If I win, I get something good. If you win, you get something good.”

“Something good.” But she stood up, kicked off her sandals, and dusted the sand from her hands. “Okay.”

He kicked off his sneakers and yanked off his socks. “To the water and back? Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Go!” they said together.

They raced, shoulder to shoulder, then she pulled ahead. Damn, she was fast. She won, he pouted. She grinned, and the light returned to her smile, reminding him of how she looked after he kissed her in the kitchen. Girlfriend was just down the pipe. He could smell the victory. They raced again, back to the blanket, uphill, and she won again. She gave this cute end-zone dance that sent his cock into a raging fit, her ass wiggling back and forth.

“Again,” he ordered.

They ran back to the water. This time he was ahead, winning, until ten feet from the water she shoved him. Hard. He hit the sand and rolled while she attempted to dance victoriously in the chilly waves and shrieked instead, running out.

“Cheater,” he taunted from his back, loving that she was no longer a guard dog. She was his girlfriend, and the radiant, dimpled smile she gave him was worth every ounce of sand in his pants.

“You didn’t say I had to play fair. And I would have won even if I didn’t shove you.”

“You’re plain mean.”

“To the soul.” She grinned. “Again?” She held out a hand, and he took it but yanked. She tumbled onto his chest, gasping as she fell across his body.

“You owe me for being a dirty cheater.” He kissed her, claiming her lips, praying the power had indeed flipped and she wouldn’t kill him.

She stiffened, as if shocked, and then moaned against his mouth and kissed him back, her mouth opening under pressure from his tongue. His hands ran through her hair, pulling the ponytail holder out. Her hair tumbled down in his face, her face.

He rolled and pinned her beneath him in the sand, kissing her harder. Their tongues battled, then twined and danced. She laced her fingers through his hair, then smoothed downward, her hands wrapping around his neck. Air had nothing on Charlotte’s kiss. He wanted her more.

She must have grown a conscience because she pushed his shoulders. “There are laws about stuff like this.”

“You think?” He ran a finger down her cheek and ground his cock against her crotch, hoping he hit the important spots. “I want you, Charlotte.”

Her eyes widened, and she swallowed nervously. “I know.”

She wanted him, too, though she’d never admit it. But he wasn’t going home yet. He needed her to remember what it was like to be someone’s girl. “Let’s go play. We have a bit before sunset.”

Once Charlotte hit girlfriend mode, she was much more fun. She dug in the sand with her fingers, making a tiny castle that the waves crashed through as the tide rolled in, and instead of being pissed, she laughed. Aaron discovered she didn’t like crabs and chased her up and down the beach with a dead one until she threatened to pull her gun.

Aaron found a piece of driftwood and drew a heart with
Aaron & Amanda
inside it. He was beginning to warm to her glare, so damned cute the way her lip crinkled and her eyes flashed when he turned to her for approval. “What? It’s a good heart.”

She grabbed the stick from him, drew a very accurate pistol and shot a bullet through his name. Aaron grabbed his chest and faked dying, staggering about, then fell in a heap at her feet, tongue out.

She shook her head, so annoyed as she stood over him, arms crossed over those ripe breasts. “Please tell me you don’t plan to die that way on film.”

“Why? Wasn’t it accurate?” He knew it wasn’t.

“No.”

“What should I have done, then?”

She pursed her lips, another gesture growing on him. “The bullet hits, you’d fall backward. Period. No staggering.”

It disturbed him that she would know that, from experience. He’d seen her scarred body. She’d been shot before. And had killed people. She’d said so. But the look in her eyes was so odd in a way that grabbed his heart. Like the girlfriend part of her was just as horrified that she knew how that would go down, too.

So Aaron jumped up, whooped, and grabbed her by the waist, giving her a sound smack on the lips. “That sounds like the beginnings of spy camp, baby!”

“What? No!”

“Yep. I knew you’d give in.” He kissed her then wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her close as he cast a glance out at the ocean. The sun was setting in a chorus of reds, golds, and purples. “Let’s hit the blanket. It’s time for the big show.”

He stretched out on the blanket and this time she only hesitated a second before laying her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and held her, feeling…content.

But he didn’t watch the sunset. He studied her as she stared out at the ocean, gold and red dancing in her brown eyes. Her face softened in the fading light, warming the frosty edges, smoothing the cool, tense lines about her mouth. She looked like she had during foreplay, relaxed and sixteen instead of Danger Girl, void of all the things he wished she hadn’t learned as a spy.

“It’s beautiful,” she finally whispered as the waves swallowed the last bit of light. “Thank you for making me come.”

“Let me make you
come,
” Aaron whispered back, suddenly wanting nothing more than to continue the fireworks, right here. He made a bold move that would probably get most men killed and slid his hand straight down her pants.

But she trembled and spread her legs a bit as his fingers found her slit, then dove into the warm wetness waiting between her pussy lips. So wet, just for him.

“Let me fuck you with my hand. Here, on the beach.” He slid his fingers inside her tight, wet pussy and pumped as much as her pants allowed. “I should have asked you to wear a skirt and no panties.”

Charlotte couldn’t believe she was letting him fingerfuck her on a beach like she was someone’s girlfriend. His girlfriend. She trembled as he slid her panties and pants down just a bit, so there was more room for his hand. Or rather, hands, because the other delved in to rub her clit and explore sensitive folds.

“Where do you get these thoughts?” she whispered. So much a Dom, this one, right out of the starting gate.

“Why? It’s what I want to do. Is that wrong?”

“It’s just more than I expected. And no, I don’t want to come.” No, coming would be bad, so bad. Once she came, what would stop her from fucking him? Nothing. “You need to stop.”

“Is Ma’am a sadomasochist? Because I don’t know if I’m into that much kink.”

“Have you been on the Internet again?” His guilty silence said it all. “I told you no.”

“Yeah. I thought we covered the fact that I’m not obedient.” He removed a hand from her pussy and sucked on one finger, then two. And sighed. “They could bottle this—your taste—and men would never need erectile dysfunction aids ever again.”

“Naughty, Aaron. So naughty.”

He dipped those fingers back in, sliding, thrusting, rubbing her clit harder. “Fuck the baggage, Char. Why should you be horny as hell and not get something from this? You gave me bliss. I want the same for you. But if I were going for honest, I’d tell you this is definitely for me.”

“Okay, I’m intrigued. How?”

He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper. “We’re going to break a record, baby.”

Fear tangled with desire in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t want to know about this, do I?”

“Of course you do. I need you.” He sank his fingers deeper into her pussy. “We’re going to break the Anderson record.”

“Which is?”

“How many orgasms I can give you before I shoot the moon. Come.”

“Your brothers have discussed this?” Good gravy, Anderson men were pigs. Or…well, the ladies were the lucky ones. So she had no clue what to call them. “And the record is?”

“They’re all stuck at three. Chase included. He’s an honorary Anderson, I guess.”

It should worry her that she knew exactly how many multiple orgasms Kate and Tia had gotten from her two favorite men, but what bothered her more was the end result. She’d never had a multiple orgasm. Ever. She sucked in a breath. “You want to give me four.”

“I was never one to back away from a challenge. So you game? We haven’t gotten one out of the way, and you need clitoral stimulation to get there. So you come, here, we go home and practice the oral route, then…”

“And then?”

“And you let me fuck you, so you get four.” He kissed her neck, running his tongue down the front of her throat to her collarbone. “I can’t wait to fuck you from behind. Your ass is so hot, and your pink, wet pussy will swallow me whole. Jesus. I want to come right now.”

“What happened to missionary with rosary beads?” Did he know what his dirty mouth alone was doing to her? She grabbed the edge of the blanket with her hand, balling the material into her fists, fighting the orgasmic wave that loomed. “You can’t last for four orgasms. You couldn’t last through me sucking you for two minutes.”

“I made my five, and there’s no time limit for this. And research says missionary isn’t going to accomplish our goal.” He dragged her V-neck shirt down to expose one lace-covered breast. Teeth nipped through the material, and her pussy spasmed harder around his fingers.

Her hands slid into his hair all on their own, holding his mouth down to her nipple. He sucked, his lips and tongue magic though the lace, sending shocks of pleasure straight to her pussy.

He groaned and turned toward her, so his rock hard cock throbbed against her thigh. “But I apologize right now for coming too fast the first time I fuck you, because man, your pussy is like a vise around my fingers. That’s why I want you to come now, so you’re not too pissed later.” He pumped his two digits into her pussy and sighed. “God, you’re so wet. Fuck it. If I’m going to jail for public indecency, I want to enjoy it.”

“What? Aaron, no.”

He dove between her legs, yanking her pants and panties down just enough to give his face access. He tugged the blanket and wrapped it around his head and torso, obscuring his actions. Lips and tongue made instant connection, and she almost shot off the blanket, arching upward against the flat surface of his tongue.

“Okay! You can make me come with your hand. I can’t get arrested. Chase would kill me, and you, too.”

He gave one long lick the length of her pussy and then returned to her side. He pulled her pants back up, leaving just enough room for his hand. His fingers pinched her clit while two returned to stoke deep inside. “Is Ma’am close? Because her pussy is twitching and quivering around my fingers. I don’t think you can get much wetter.”

She fought a moan.