Locked and Loaded (15 page)

Kieran continued to lean against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “Tough to satisfy, isn't she?” he remarked as Mason walked by.

Was he talking about Katarina, or Charlie? “Fuck you, Kieran.”

Kieran's laughter trailed after him down the hallway. Mason stopped three doors down and shoved his key card into the slot. He pushed open the door and let it slam behind him, effectively drowning out the sound of Kieran's amusement.

Why in the hell had he ever agreed to this?

Mason stalked toward the bed. For someone who'd had no problem expressing her disdain for the criminal element, Charlie had sure cozied up to Kieran quickly. Jesus, he didn't even know why he was so twisted up about it. No, he
did
know. Because nice guys finished last. That's fucking why.

The blackout curtains were drawn over the windows, making Mason feel as though the walls of his room were closing in. He ripped them away and jerked open the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony, in order to let in some fresh air. It did little to clear his mind or slow the pounding of his pulse, but at least he no longer felt like climbing the walls.

Memories that Mason had spent years quashing resurfaced. Kieran had worn the same shit-eating grin that night as he did tonight. Too smug for his own fucking good.

“I want you to
not
end up in jail.”
Like Dad.

Chapter Fifteen

Charlie wanted off this ride. She'd only been at it a week and the stress was starting to get to her. Her emotions swung on a pendulum. Her head ached. Her brain buzzed. And she was pretty sure she'd developed some nasty acid reflux.

There seriously weren't enough Tums in the world . . .

Letting Kieran down easily and getting rid of him for the night had been like trying to peel two pieces of duct tape apart. She'd finally managed to use too much wine as an excuse, and he'd reluctantly gone to his own room. Charlie let out a groan as she threw herself on the bed. She'd almost swallowed her tongue when Mason came around the corner and saw her and Kieran together. There was no way to put a positive spin on it. She knew what it had looked like.

But Mason had it
so
wrong.

Charlie pushed herself up from the bed and paced the confines of her room. Mason would interpret what he'd interrupted as a betrayal. She was sure his reaction to what he'd seen had nothing to do with any feelings he had for Charlie. Though she wouldn't deny that the notion of Mason being jealous of another man paying attention to her made her feel a little too warm and fuzzy.

This was about Kieran. Plain and simple. And the rivalry between them. Kieran was his Achilles' heel. The only chink in his armored exterior. Charlie needed Mason confident. Tough. The grim-faced hard-ass who didn't take shit off anyone.

How in the hell had she gotten caught in the middle of all this?

Screw it.
Charlie wasn't going to spend the rest of the night wearing a path into the carpet worrying about what Mason may or may not have thought. She swiped her key card from the dresser and stalked out of the room. Her temper mounted with each step toward Mason's room. Who in the hell did he think he was? He'd dragged her into this mess and then had the nerve to be pissed when she was simply playing her part. He'd never shown an ounce of interest in her, and yet she'd spent the past week pining after him like some stupid lovesick girl. Mason Decker: the man, the myth, the legend. Charlie snorted. He and Kieran were exactly alike. Their egos wouldn't allow them to lose. And their personal battle was going to sink her investigation and her task force.

It was time to take back control.

Every ounce of stress she felt went into her fist as she pounded on Mason's door. Charlie waited. Waited. Brought her fist up and pounded again. Waited. Waited some more. And threw her foot into the door at the exact moment it swung wide.

The toe of her shoe connected squarely with Mason's shin. He let out a grunt and Charlie's hands flew up to her mouth. His brow crinkled with pain and anger and he drew in a sharp breath as he took a stumbling step back.

“Son of a bitch! Jesus, Charlie, what in the hell was that for?”

He deserved more than a kick to the shin for his shitty attitude, but Charlie wasn't about to tell him that. She pushed her way into the room and let the door close behind her. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” Mason's gorgeous eyes went wide. “You fucking kicked me.”

“Yeah, well.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I didn't mean to kick you. What took you so long to answer the damn door?”

Again, Mason had the nerve to look shocked. “I was asleep. It's one o'clock in the fucking morning.”

For the first time since barging in, Charlie realized she was standing face-to-face with a nearly naked Mason Decker. She took in the sight of his bare chest, packed with muscle, down the narrow taper of his waist, over the ridges of his abs, to the V that cut a path down his hips and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. Her gaze lingered a little too long there and Mason cleared his throat. Charlie's head snapped up and she found his expression dark. His jaw formed a hard line.

Heat swamped her. Goddamn, he was hot when he was angry.

“I want to know what happened with Katarina tonight.”

Okay, so it wasn't how she'd planned to start their conversation. It would have been better to begin by being a little less confrontational. Charlie didn't know how to handle herself around Mason. She'd never had trouble taking charge. Being assertive. Speaking her mind. But whenever he leveled his gaze on her, her mind went blank. Any ability to make well-thought-out decisions vanished. It was like she was twenty years old again. Flustered in the presence of a good-looking guy.

Pathetic
.

His jaw flexed. “I already told you. Nothing.”

Good Lord, he wasn't even fazed by his almost naked state. A flush heated Charlie's cheeks and she swayed on her feet. Maybe she had drunk a little too much wine . . . Would it kill him to put some damn clothes on?

“You were there for almost two hours,” she pointed out.

Mason's gaze hardened. “I'm surprised you noticed. You seemed a little preoccupied yourself.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” As if she didn't know.

Mason snorted. “You and Kieran were pretty damned cozy when I showed up. Isn't hooking up with a criminal you're trying to take down a violation of your pristine ethical code, Charlie?”

“Hooking up?” Her outrage was totally misplaced, but she couldn't help it. Mason had a way of setting her temper off. “I was
on the job
. How in the hell was I supposed to act?”

“I don't know,” Mason mused. “Maybe like you weren't dying for him to get into your pants?”

Was he for real? The hard line of his jaw was begging for her palm. Kieran's room was at the opposite end of the hall, far from earshot, but Charlie still let her voice drop by a few decibels. “From the way Kieran made it sound, you were the one whose pants were getting into.”

He cocked a brow and one corner of his mouth hitched.

Ugh!
Charlie hated how she became an inarticulate fool the second she entered into an argument with Mason. She couldn't even form complete—not to mention coherent—sentences. His cool, self-possessed attitude drove her up a wall. Even angry and almost naked, he was practically unflappable.

She fixed him with a stern stare. “You know what I mean.”

His expression didn't change. “Do I?”

Infuriating!
“What did she want, Mason?”

He leaned in close. Charlie took his crisp, masculine scent into her lungs and held it for a moment. How dare he smell so good when she was trying to be mad at him?

“She offered me a job.”

Charlie tipped her face up so that she could look at him. “Is that all?”

Mason shrugged.

Anger churned in Charlie's gut. Frustration clawed at her. Desire bloomed in her chest, so hot and thick that it choked the air from her lungs. She hated herself for wanting him. For feeling so out of control whenever he was around.

“You still answer to me.” Charlie bucked her chin up a notch. “I'm still your boss.”

Childish? Absolutely. But it beat admitting she was beyond attracted to him. Anything was better than that.

“Is that what you were doing with Kieran in the hallway earlier?” Mason's brow quirked. “Showing him who's boss?”

“I—he—you were—” She wanted to kick him in the other shin, just to release some of the tension that bound her muscles tight. “What in the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not drape yourself all over him, for starters.”

The insinuation that she'd been all over Kieran and not the other way around sent Charlie's anger into a tailspin. “See it however you want, Mason. All you're doing is deflecting so you don't have to answer my questions about Katarina.”

“Maybe.” Sweet fiery hell. His unapologetic attitude galled her more than anything.

Charlie squared her shoulders. “You should have checked in.”

“I did,” Mason said without an ounce of inflection. “Several times.”

“No, you didn't.”

His eyebrows arched curiously over his bright green eyes. A silent challenge. “You probably didn't see the missed calls since you were sort of occupied.”

She hadn't checked her phone. Kieran had dominated their conversation during dinner and afterward. He hadn't given her the chance to take a deep breath—or even a quick bathroom break, for that matter—before he'd ushered her up to their rooms and tried to put the moves on her.

“I didn't see any missed calls from you.” Petulance wasn't going to win the argument, but she had to do something to salvage her battered pride.

He took a step closer. “I don't doubt it.”

How was he able to maintain that insufferable calm? Charlie was ready to climb right out of her skin. She wanted to shout, to let her temper explode. It seemed the angrier she got the more level he became. It drove her out of her mind, bat-shit insane.

Mason closed the space between them until mere inches separated them. The heat from his body permeated Charlie's thin blouse and she sucked in a breath. “I don't
ever
want to see his hands on you again.” Mason's voice lowered to a dangerous growl. “I don't want him within touching distance of you. Do you understand me?”

No. Not even a little bit. Charlie's jaw set as she made the decision to press her luck. “Why? What'll happen?”

“Without Kieran, you'll lose your precious task force and any hope of getting your hands on Faction Five, for starters.” Mason's gaze darkened as he bent his head over hers. “Because if he so much as brushes against you again, it'll be the last thing he
ever
touches. Get me?”

* * *

If ever Mason had sounded like a world-class asshole, it was right now. He had no control over his own raging temper or the words that flew so carelessly from his mouth. Kieran had crossed a line tonight. He'd made a move on Charlie, and you could guarantee the son of a bitch had done it to spark Mason's jealousy. Kieran didn't lose. Ever. Even if that meant stomping all over his own family in the process. Mason had been down this road before with him. And none of them would be okay when they got to their destination.

Charlie's deep blue eyes widened at his words. Part shock, part indignation, and 100 percent outrage. His childish display had done nothing more than push her away. Rather than tell her how he felt about her, he treated her like a possession. Something he had the right to control. Women like Charlie couldn't be controlled. It was what Mason liked best about her. Instead of telling her that, he'd buried his admiration under the guise of his selfish, sudden, Neanderthal mandate.

Smooth
.

“Get you?” Charlie's eyes went wide. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and fire lit in her eyes. “I don't even understand you! Whatever you
think
you saw out there, Mason—”

“I know what I saw.” Charlie took a step backward and Mason closed the gap. She wanted to distance herself from him, when she'd been chest-to-chest with Kieran earlier? Jealousy flared white-hot in Mason's chest. “He wants you.” No question about it. “It just sort of shocked me to see firsthand that you wanted him too.”

Charlie took another step back. He stepped forward. She wasn't scared, and her expression no longer blazed with fire. Instead, she dared him to come after her. The challenge sparked in her gaze and Mason accepted, and then some, as her back met the wall and he caged her in with his arms just as Kieran had earlier in the night.

Charlie tipped her head up toward him. Mason's gut clenched and his cock stirred at the sight of her, disheveled, angry, her mouth parted and her full lips practically begging to be kissed. Had she begged Kieran for the favor? The thought of her saying anything to him in her smoky tone, her eyes full of heat, made Mason want to march down to Kieran's room and put the son of a bitch in a choke hold.

“You think I want Kieran?” Her tone slid over him in a sensual caress that made Mason want to moan. “You must be as blind as you are stubborn if you think that.”

His response was nothing more than a ragged whisper. “I know what I saw.”

Charlie came up on her tiptoes. She put her mouth to Mason's ear and his gut clenched with lust. “You don't know
anything
, Mason.”

Her sultry voice was a lick of heat down Mason's spine. His nostrils flared, his senses were awash with her scent, the heat of her body, her words, her proximity. Mason shouldn't want her. He shouldn't give a single shit about what—or who—she did. He should put as much distance between them as possible. Send her back to her room and make sure she didn't come within ten feet of either him or Kieran after tonight.

Mason crushed his mouth to hers. Relief washed over him. Finally giving in to what he wanted was like guzzling a gallon of water after a month in the desert. Charlie's arms wound around him. Her nails scraped the hair at the nape of his neck. Her breath became his as their mouths slanted, both of them desperate to deepen the kiss. He pressed his body against her and his hips gave an involuntary thrust. A low moan gathered in Charlie's throat and the sound hardened his cock to stone.

He wanted Charlie. And not because he knew Kieran wanted her. Not because he needed to take something from the man who'd been his brother. The man who'd taken his own father from him. And not for Mason's own stupid pride and ego. He wanted Charlie because the thought of not being with her, not seeing her, not hearing her voice, filled him with dread. He wanted her because he couldn't picture another day that didn't have her in it. He wanted her because she was the most beautiful, intelligent, brave woman he'd ever met. He wanted her because he didn't feel so goddamned empty when she was around.