Forbidden Legacy (13 page)

“Actually, there’s just one thing between us, and I intend to take care of that now.”

His fingers grazed her ass, the tip of one circling the plug. She shivered. He was just about to grip it when she spun around.

“Do you have to take it out?”

He frowned. “It’s not good to leave a plug in so long. You’re still new to this.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged until his lips were a mere inch from hers. “I want you to leave it in while you fuck me.”

Michael pressed his forehead to hers, his expression telling her he wanted the same thing. She also knew he wasn’t going to give it to her. “Not this time, Alexis.”

“Why not?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he turned her away from him once more, losing no time in gripping the plug and pulling it out. Alexis gasped with arousal and the sweetest twinge of pain as it was removed.

Then Michael tugged her shirt over her head. Within seconds, her bra followed. She flushed slightly, the temperature in the office suddenly warmer than it had been only a few minutes earlier. A slight sheen of sweat appeared at Michael’s hairline.

“You have too many clothes on,” she admonished.

“You’re right. I do.” Michael hastened to solve that problem and Alexis helped. Once they were both naked, Michael grabbed her hand and led her to the couch in the corner.

“Lay down, Alexis.”

She’d spent the past sixty minutes driving herself insane with lust as she considered what Michael would do when she returned. She’d played out every kinky, dirty fantasy her horny mind could produce.

All except this one.

He joined her on the couch, covering her body with his. The difference in their sizes was never quite so apparent when they were standing up…and dressed. Having Michael on top of her this way made her feel completely safe, warm. It was an odd sensation. Sex wasn’t supposed to make her think of home and cozy blankets and a kitten curled up at her feet. Was it?

Michael placed his hands on each side of her head, his fingers lightly caressing her hair as he kissed her. He supported his weight on his elbows, but their lower bodies were tangled together—her legs resting alongside his. His erect cock was cradled by her wet slit, but he made no move to enter her. Instead, he kissed her as if they had a lifetime to perfect the act.

Alexis pressed her tongue against his and then used it to explore his teeth, his mouth. His breath was fresh, minty, almost sweet. Time passed like a meandering river as they simply gave themselves over to the kisses.

Finally, her patience ran out. “Michael,” she whispered.

He must have heard the plea in her voice, because he lifted his hips. Alexis opened her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Michael reached down with one hand and positioned his cock at her opening. She felt him swirl his finger in her juices and she smiled. He was a considerate lover—always making sure she was ready.

Then he slowly pressed inside her as his hand came back up to her head. He continued kissing her, his tongue mimicking the tantalizing rhythm of his cock.

She’d only had sex like this once before. With Harrison on the chair in his office. She’d never realized there was a beauty in taking it slowly, a passion in simply melding two bodies into one until Harrison and Michael had shown her.

Alexis had always thought she preferred the down and dirty method of fucking—fast, hard, rough.

Now…she was torn.

Neither of them sought to increase the speed, to push limits.

Michael continued to kiss her, murmuring sweet words that touched a part of her that had nothing to do with sex. He was working his way into her head—and God help her—her heart.

She pushed that thought away. There was plenty of time to lose sleep over that detail. For now, she wanted to live in this moment. Forever.

After hours—maybe days—Michael reached down and gently stroked her clit. The touch triggered impulses, shot sparks along her spine as she closed her eyes and arched her back.

“Yes,” she hissed.

Michael kept the touch slow, easy, but it was enough. Hell, it was more than enough. She tightened her legs around his waist, using that grip as leverage to push herself up while drawing him deeper.

She gasped as her climax rained down on her. Michael didn’t practice restraint this time. Instead, he joined her, his body stiffening as he grunted.

“God. Fuck. Yeah. Jesus, Alexis.” Every word he spoke resonated with her. They clung to each other long after the orgasms had subsided, neither of them willing to break the connection.

Then Michael lifted his head and looked at her. She expected him to give her his usual cocky grin, to make some dirty comment. She was ready for that. In some ways, she needed it. Because it would soften the intensity of what had just happened.

Unfortunately, he did neither. His expression reflected what she was feeling—shock and wonder danced in his eyes.

“Alexis.”

He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. His tone said it all. He’d felt it.

Carole King had once referred to the earth moving under her feet. Alexis felt that shifting, powerful quake right now.

Sometimes silence spoke louder than words.

*****

The young man stood in the dark hallway, watching Jonathan as he bent over his desk. He’d done it. He’d broken the man, fooled him. It had taken very little to convince the older man his intentions were good, that he wanted to forge a relationship.

Jonathan looked almost happy as he perused some documents from work, humming to himself as he read them. He’d knocked on the door earlier and introduced himself as Jonathan’s son. Once he’d shown the foolish old man the picture of his mother holding him when he was just a baby, Jonathan had invited him in and accepted his story at face value. Jonathan had even remarked about how much the young man looked like his mother. It had taken all of his strength to school his features and not kill the man for that insult.

But he’d held steady, stuck to the plan. He’d told his father about his desire to pursue a career in computers, shared how he’d landed a prestigious internship working with Damon Corzo. About his acceptance into Harvard and how the letter had come from Harrison Adams, even though he hadn’t applied to the school.

His father’s eyes had lit up as he’d continued to drop names and then Jonathan had given him everything. The means to destroy his enemy, to vanquish them all.

The Trinity Masters. The name echoed over and over in his head, along with all the other details. Triads. The Boston Public Library. Power. Prestige. Money. And Harrison Adams was at the helm of it all, the Grand Master.

Jonathan’s grief had weakened him, left him ripe fruit for the picking. He suspected his father would never have revealed so many details about the secret society if he hadn’t been so depressed and lonely. Jonathan was convinced that the Trinity Masters was obviously meant to be his legacy and he rejoiced over having a son, someone to share the rest of his life with.

Jonathan insisted that he would be welcomed into the membership with open arms.

The young man smiled. Victory was at hand. All the players were in place and the secret was his.

Time to tip the first domino and watch them all fall down.

Harrison rubbed his forehead, trying to ward off the coming headache as he perused the pages before him. For several months, he’d wondered if the identity of the villain after him and the Trinity Masters could be found in the file of undecipherable messages left behind by his father. Harrison had spent countless hours trying with very little success to read the shaky writing. Some of it looked like nothing more than the scribbles of a toddler. He’d been tempted to show the papers to Michael, in hopes his friend could work out some of the words defeating him, but given the sensitive nature of the documents, he’d resisted.

His perseverance as he’d tried to chisel through the mysteries held within the file had paid off to some extent. When Harrison had first started working on the file, it had contained nearly fifty pages. Now, there were less than a dozen. And some of those were partially decoded.

In fact, he’d acted on a few of the things required of the Grand Master even though he didn’t know why he was doing so. He’d given a substantial sum of money to an orphanage in Brazil, he’d worked to disbar a judge in San Diego and he’d offered a full ride to Harvard to a teenager in Los Angeles. All because he’d been able to read those tasks on the pages in the file. What he couldn’t read was why he was doing those things. It was frustrating, maddening.

And what bothered him most was wondering if there were other duties that needed to be performed he didn’t know about. What if someone needed what he was unintentionally withholding?

He glanced up from the paperwork when he heard the knock on his door. Tasha Kasharin was punctual as always.

“Enter.”

Tasha strode into his office and took the seat across from him. She was an exception amongst the Trinity Masters because she knew his true identity, understood his role as Grand Master even though she wasn’t a senior member. The daughter of Russian spies, Tasha had turned herself in at the age of twelve to the CIA and spent her high school years as a double agent, reporting on her own parents’ activities. She’d been instrumental in helping him squash the blackmailing scheme involving Damon and Marco.

It bothered Harrison to have to call on her for assistance once again because he’d hoped to allow her a chance at a normal life with her new husbands.

“Did you have a chance to look at the accident scene?”

Tasha nodded. “I did. I also obtained the Boston PD’s accident report. If you have control over the police department, demand that they improve the quality of their reports. The officer on this case provided only a sparse number of details. And misspelled six words.”

Harrison grinned. “I’ll speak to someone about that.”

Tasha appeared satisfied. “Unfortunately, police impound is overfull, so the car has already been disposed of. It’s nothing but scrap metal now. It would have made my job easier if I could have seen it too.”

“But you said on the phone you had important information.”

Tasha had always been lean and trim, but she held a sort of easy confidence that was new. Before being matched with her trinity, she’d been like a caged animal. But now passersby on the street would look at her and recognize her strength, her confidence—and possibly her face since she was a fashion model, a role she’d taken as cover while working on the blackmail case, which she’d had to make permanent. “Jonathan is correct. The frame of the car is designed to withstand tremendous force, but this one was torn apart. Damage to the tree and surrounding area indicates that the fire burned very, very hot.”

“I assume an exploding car would be hot.”

“Cars don’t explode when they crash into trees. At least not high-end cars like that one. They catch fire, but the fire is usually contained to the engine.”

“So why did this one explode? And why did the fire spread and get so hot?”

“Water boils at one hundred degrees Celsius, a candle is anywhere from seven-fifty to a thousand. Napalm burns at over five thousand and would explain the localized burned areas around the car.”

Harrison reared back. “Napalm.”

Tasha shrugged. “It’s not what I would have used, but it’s easy to make, and a good idea for a car because if it was placed right it would ignite on impact, no need for an ignition device.”

Harrison was pissed off at himself for not thinking to look into the car accident right after it occurred. At the time, he’d had no reason to believe it was anything more than an unfortunate incident. However, given everything that had happened in the past year, he should have suspected more. He was letting too many clues, too many details slip by unnoticed. “So you think someone rigged it so that the car would catch fire upon impact? Even if that’s true, there’s no indication there was another vehicle on the road.”

“There are more devices connected to the Internet than there are people on the planet.”

Harrison rubbed his jaw wearily. He’d been averaging four or five restless hours of sleep a night for months. It had him on edge and his patience was at an all-time low. “Is there some point to this lecture on modern-day technology, Ms. Kasharin?”