In Bed with the Bodyguard (9 page)

She lay back and sheathed him in the latex, taking extra care to stroke his balls and shaft. He grabbed her wrist. “No more teasing, Ari. Next time I come it will be deep inside you and you'll be squeezing me damn tight.”

His words totally heated her up. A desperate sound escaped from deep inside. Who would've thought the straitlaced agent would have a dirty mouth? “More,” she said. “Tell me more about what you're going to do to me.”

He grinned and took her mouth in a dizzying kiss that did unbelievable things to her arousal, sending it flying through the roof.

“I'm going to lick those little nipples and if you're bad, I'm going to bite.”

His head bent to touch a nipple with the tip of his tongue, barely grazing it, torturing her.

“I've been bad. I'm a bad girl,” she said quickly, dying for more. She was rewarded by tiny nibbles that pierced the point of pain rocketing her into sublime pleasure.

She threw her head back, arching her back and holding his head to her breast. “More. Tell me more about what you're going to do to me.”

“My fingers,” he said between bites.

“Your fingers.”

“Ten of them.”

“Ten.”

“I don't want any of them to feel left out.” He bit, then licked to soothe.

“No, we wouldn't want that.” Ari caught a glimpse of them in the mirror looking like an erotic painting, all naked intertwined limbs. If she still painted, she'd paint them like this. For her eyes only.

“I'm going to fill every crevice in your body with my fingers.”

“Mmm.” She watched them in the mirror a moment longer.

“Your mouth.” He ran a finger along her lips and brought her full attention back to the bed. Her tongue shot out to touch his fingertip.

“Your pussy.” He lowered a finger to circle her swollen clit. She'd never loved that word before, but when Lance said it, she tightened in anticipation.

“Your tight little ass.” He cupped her buttocks with both hands, allowing fingers to separate the globes.

“Hmm,” she said, wiggling said ass.

“I watched your ass yesterday with your yoga. I'm going touch you there, and you'll love it.” He didn't wait for her response, but lowered her back to the bed, planting her feet on either side of his shoulders.

She clenched her muscles, waiting for his touch, and when it came, she moaned in bliss. His fingers danced and wove their magic, bringing her closer and closer to release. Little pants and gasps escaped her as she bit her tongue, trying not to beg. Finally, she lost the battle.

“Lance, please. I want you inside me now.”

“Want or need?” he asked with an evil grin.

“Need. I need you in me,” she begged.

She arched her bottom toward him, and he took his shaft in hand, stroking over the condom before he lowered himself and placed his tip at her passage. He pressed in the barest of inches before pulling back.

Her body followed him, anxious to keep him inside. “More, don't leave.” She could feel how wet she was, desperate to be filled.

“I won't.” He pressed back, sitting on his heels, pulling her thighs to drape over his hips, butt high on his lap. She was totally open, totally exposed to him, and mindless to all but the maddening, tightening pressure of his cock slowly inching deeper. In this position she could only lie back and take it. He controlled the pace of his thrusts, and he drove her crazy with his slow pace.

“Stop teasing me. I want more,” she said.

He paused, finally fully sheathed inside her, and circled her clit with a finger. She moaned with need.

“Are you saying you want me to screw you? To pound into this tight, wet pussy?” Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her, and she squeezed around him at his decadent words. Who knew? Seemingly uptight agent Lance Brown had a filthy mouth. She freaking loved it.

“I'll take that as a yes.” He quickened his speed, thrusting and pulling her thighs toward his belly in counterpoint to the rhythm. The sound of skin on skin and the delicious slide of his entry filled the room.

Lance kneeled over her, power rising from him as he simply took her harder and faster to heights she'd never experienced before. Arianna had never handed the reins to a lover like this and let him fuck her. She loved it, loved the sight of him holding her in place and watching his cock sliding in and out of her. She was lost to everything but the physicality of their bodies sliding in counterpoint. It felt indecent. Fabulous. Decadent.

But soon she couldn't even watch and closed her eyes to the onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overtake her being. The world around them faded to the crystalline pinnacle of pleasure where their bodies joined. Her orgasm built slowly, then rose faster until she melted around him, helpless to do anything but mercilessly tighten around him as he found completion, too.

O
n Sunday morning, Lance drove with half his brain focused on the road and the other half remembering last night's sex. Hell in a bed, smoking-hot sex, which he could've predicted. From the moment Lance had seen Arianna Rose on the six o'clock news, he'd known she'd be a heck of a lover, but never guessed she'd be
his
lover.

Damn, this complicated things. He'd dropped Ari off at Valerie's apartment and borrowed her car to drive downtown to his office. It might be a weekend, but his boss didn't believe in weekends. He hadn't checked in for a few days, and if he wanted to be back with POTUS soon, he needed to stay on the radar. Doing the dirty horizontal with the daughter of the FBI's most wanted man was not going to gain him many points.

How the hell had he dropped into this mess? His orders had been to lay low, get the kinks out of his bum leg, not to lie in a hot girl's bed and get kinky. But what was done was done, and he wouldn't trade last night for anything. It had been the greatest sex of his life. Not only had it been a mind-blowing orgasm, he'd had fun.

Ari was fun in bed and out of it. He was in deep shit, because this girl could blindside him if he ever dared fully trust her. She could be lying to him about knowing her dad's location, or she might see Lance as her sugar daddy if she ever learned who his parents were. How she missed the news coverage about him after he'd taken the bullet for the president, he didn't know, but he'd take a boon where he could get it.

He turned the Mini into the guard gate and handed over his identification to the guard. After a few moments, he was waved through and went to find a parking spot.

“Brown.” A weekend skeleton crew of a few agents and desk jockeys nodded and greeted him as he walked through the hall to his supervisor's desk. He acknowledged their greetings, but did not stop to chat. He didn't feel like rehashing heroic bullet catching, and a deeper, more mysterious part of him was anxious to get back to Arianna.

He knew she'd be safe with Valerie in the apartment with a doorman, but still he'd feel better if he could see her, smell her, kiss her. Jesus, he had it bad. He needed to shake it off and put on his best game face to meet with Sullivan, his director.

He turned through a few corridors before greeting Sullivan's administrative assistant, a dour woman in the ugliest suit he'd seen in a long time. She pointed him toward the open door and got on her little intercom to announce his presence.

“Lance,” Sullivan said as he entered the office and found a chair. “You look good, rested. Maybe I should take some time off.” His solid body was framed by a large glass window with a view of the Potomac.

Lance doubted he ever would. Take time off. Rumor had it Sullivan had a foldaway cot and full set of clothing stashed in the building. His two ex-wives would agree he was married to the job.

“I feel good. Ready to get back to 1600.”

Sullivan chuckled. “I know the feeling.”

Lance leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “So, when can I get back to work?”

“Word on the street is you're already back at work.” Sullivan paused to bark some orders into the phone handset. Lance's stomach churned while he waited for his boss to explain the cryptic remark.

“How do you mean, sir?”

“Got a call last night from a friend at the Bureau. Said you were spotted with a Ms. Arianna Rose, daughter of Stanley Rose.”

Lance said nothing and maintained his stoic silence. Who he slept with was none of the Service's business. Yeah, and he could keep deluding himself.

“Is it true? Are you shacking up with Ms. Rose?”

He debated for a moment how much to reveal, knowing there were few secrets in his world. “I'm helping out a friend. One of Stanley Rose's victims decided to take his revenge by targeting his daughter. I'm playing bodyguard.”

Sullivan snorted. “From the look of things last night, you were guarding her body pretty damn closely. One might even say from the inside out.”

Lance shot out of his chair and placed his hands on the edge of the desk separating him from his boss. “How the hell do you know that? Who was watching us?” Fury reared up like an ancient dragon attacked by a knight.

“Easy, son. Sit down.” Sullivan remained stoic and silent until Lance backed off the desk and returned to his chair. “You knew the feds were following her.”

He gave a cursory nod.

“And you forgot to close the curtains.” Sullivan folded his arms across his chest as if daring Lance to argue with him.

“She lives in a second-floor loft. She has no curtains. I'll put some up tonight,” he said, the last bit to himself. He inwardly cursed. Tonight he was returning home and letting paid professionals take over.

“Now that we have that out of the way, what can I do for you, son?”

“I told you before, I'm checking in and letting you know my leg is nearly back to one hundred percent. I'm ready to come back to work,” Lance said. He didn't like the look on Sullivan's face. It had “no” written all over it.

“Lance, I hear where you're coming from, and believe me, I feel for you. I haven't had a vacation in years, wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't have work.”

Yeah, the man's ex-wives could attest to that.

“Right now, you're needed where you're at, with Ms. Rose.”

Lance started to protest, shocked that he might get to stay with Ari, but his boss stopped him.

“Ms. Rose has a hotshot lawyer protecting her, and she's given nothing away yet,” Sullivan said.

“Maybe because she has nothing to give,” Lance said angrily. From what he'd seen, Arianna's life's blood was in the gallery and had nothing to do with her father's financial business. Although that was now. He couldn't verify her actions from a year ago. She'd have to be one hell of an actress, though, because the flighty, sexy, artistic woman he'd slept with last night didn't seem to have a clue of how to run a financial scam the size of the Rose debacle.

Sullivan held out a hand. “We're not saying she had anything to do with the actual crime, but Stanley is her father. She must have some idea where he'd hide. A condo in Dubai, an old girlfriend in Topeka…something to give a clue. It's like he fell off the face of the earth with enough liquid cash to live the good life for the rest of his days. The president wants him back in the States for a trial and jail time.”

Lance sat back, mulling the idea over in his mind. The FBI agents had hinted at a role for him last night, and it would give him an excuse to stay close to Arianna, but he shuddered to envision her rage if she ever found out his deception. It didn't feel right to sleep with her while spying on her for government agencies. “What exactly do you need me to do?”

“Same thing you've been doing.”

Lance raised a brow, and Sullivan actually blushed a little and amended his words.

“Well, we couldn't ask
that
of you. This isn't Langley. But stay with her. Gain her trust; see if you can get her to share any ideas about where her dad is.”

“I've already asked. You know I'd never have …um, you know…if I thought she was harboring her father.”

“We know you don't sleep with the enemy. Play on her sense of justice. A lot of innocent people were hurt by Rose's crime. Make her see that if he gets his day in court, there could be some restitution for the victims.”

Lance nodded. He could do that, but first he needed some promises. “I'll stay with her. For a little longer, but then I want back in. Cut my medical leave in half and put me back in rotation.”

Sullivan fell silent for a long moment. “Deal.”

Lance stood to exit as Sullivan came around the desk to shake his hand. “Help us get Stanley Rose, Lance. It could go a long way in furthering your career, even more than the bullet you took for POTUS.”

“Will do. See you in three weeks.”

“You slept with him?”

Ari nodded as Valerie gaped at her. They'd already covered her gallery news; sharing the sex news was inevitable.

“How was it? Details, please.” Valerie's eyes shone and she leaned closer, ready to hear the dirty deets about Ari's sex life, a usual occurrence when they got together. Although Valerie had limited sexual experience when she'd married Jason, she loved hearing about Ari's men and never judged. Ari usually had no problem sharing, but for some reason today she was closemouthed.

Last night was too fresh, too intense, and too…special to share like they were back in high school. She shook her head in silence, unwilling to relegate Lance to the minions who'd gone before. She shouldn't have even mentioned she'd seen Lance naked.

“Whoa,” Valerie crowed. “He got to you. You can't even talk about it.”

“Of course I can. I'm being discreet since Lance is Jason's good friend. You've never had to have dinner with one of my lovers,” she said.

“Sure I have. We've gone on lots of double dates.”

“Yes, while I was dating the guy, but never after we'd broken up, and you'd have to do that with Lance, since he's yours and Jason's friend.” Valerie needed to drop the subject. Ari slipped a look at her cell phone clock. Why had she let Lance borrow her car? Now she was stuck until he showed up.

“That's a good point, but what makes you think you're going to break up? Maybe he's the one,” Valerie said.

Oh, Val the optimist. God love her.

Ari rolled her eyes. “You know how I feel about ‘the one.' It's a myth, a Hallmark, Disney Channel, Harlequin novel invention. There are lots of
ones
in real life.”

Valerie hugged her knees. Ari barely noticed the burn scars on them anymore, but she still took a silent second to thank Jason for getting Val comfortable enough to reveal her legs. “Not true. For me, Jason is the one.”

“Yeah, well, you got lucky.”
Until he leaves you for another woman
, she finished in her head. She believed Jason was one of the good guys, but she'd thought that about her father and look where that got her: two stepmothers and an FBI escort. There was no such thing as a perfect man, and to prove it… “Fine, you want details about last night?”

Valerie nodded, but then held up her hand. “No body descriptions, please. You're right about the dinner party thing. I don't want to be imagining what's in his tighty-whities.”

“Nothing. He's a boxers man.”

Her friend laughed. “Thanks for the image. Sexy boxers or silly ones with animal prints and cartoon characters?”

“Um, plain gray or black.” Why did she feel like she was being disloyal to Lance by sharing? Valerie was her longtime best friend, not him. She took a deep breath. “He likes dirty talk.”

A blush infused Valerie's cheeks. “Dirty talk? What do you mean?”

“Garbage, toilet, mud, banana peels,” she said sarcastically. “What do you think I mean by dirty talk? ‘Squeeze my cock, tight pussy,' stuff like that.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she resolved to shut the heck up about last night. It was none of Val's business. Her mind left Valerie's den for a few lovely moments as she relived last night's highlight reel.

It was the one time the
after
was as spectacular as the
during
. They'd snuggled in bed, her back pressing against his front until they'd fallen asleep intertwined. Usually she invented any excuse to get her lovers dressed and out the door. Lance was the first man invited to spend the night.

She'd even enjoyed this morning, waking up in his arms and doing the whole morning ritual interrupted with little kisses and intimate caresses. Lance had made a Starbucks run while she got dressed. Perfect. Speaking of Mr. Perfect, where was he? It was nearly lunchtime and she had phone calls to make.

“But was it good?” Valerie asked, interrupting her reverie.

Ari thought a long moment about that.
Good
seemed too banal a word to describe the sex. Amazing, spectacular, terrific, even, but she needed to remember Val was married to Jason, Lance's friend. Anything she shared could potentially get back to Lance. No need to puff up his already healthy ego or make him think she was gaga for him. “Yes, it was good,” she said and hopped off the couch. “I'm going to the kitchen to get a glass of wine. Do you want one?”

Valerie's head jerked up, then down to look at her lap with a secret smile. “No thanks, but I would love a glass of OJ, if you don't mind.”

“Uh, sure,” she said slowly. Holy moly, was she imagining things or had Valerie rubbed a protective hand across her lower belly? Was she pregnant? For some reason the thought of Valerie having a baby made her feel lonely. Her best friend's marriage she could ignore most of the time, but a baby was the real deal. It meant she and Jason were a family. No fair—Valerie was
her
family, the only one she had had since her birth family fell short on the job requirements.

She knew she was being a selfish bitch, but it was allowed for a minute or two, especially since she'd probably never know the joys of being a wife or parent. A sudden image of Lance holding a redheaded toddler froze her in place, but she shook it off quickly.

Yeah, right, her and Lance married with kids. Hah. Even if she wanted it, Mr. Secret Service would never open himself to the kind of exposure having Arianna Rose as his wife would mean. She could picture the wedding: her in Vera Wang; ivory, of course. White was too harsh for her coloring. Lance in a single-breasted tux with traditional bow tie, or maybe his uniform. Did Secret Service agents have uniforms like those great military ones? She didn't know. And her father in an orange jumpsuit and a metal ankle bracelet. If they ever found him.

For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to consider her missing father. Ari carried two drinks back out to Valerie, lost in thought, concentrating hard on where he might be. She'd been repeating the story that she had no clue where he would've run, and that was the truth…mostly. Despite all the heartache and disappointment her father had heaped on her growing up, at the end of the day, he was still her father. She'd never aid him in escaping justice, but she didn't want to be responsible for his capture, either.