Savage Secrets (Titan #6) (20 page)

“Forget it all.” He nuzzled her ear.

“I can’t.”

“Forget it now.”

His teeth tugged at her earlobe like flames ripping through her senses. Caterina let the scrape of his teeth burn. An uncontrollable fire ran down her neck, down her spine. Her back arched, her head dropped. He took her weight in his arms as she melted into him.

“Rocco.” No idea why his name slipped from her lips, but it made him shush her. That sound, the vibrations buzzing from his lips across her skin, cleared her mind. All the hurt and pain and memories, all the terror and anger she carried lifted off her chest. It was just her and him in bed, and that was the only thing she could focus on.

She’d never wanted anything more than to be kissed and touched by him in that moment. “Please.”

His lips covered hers, and the same as earlier, the intensity overwhelmed her. He consumed her, captivating her with the velvet slash of his tongue and the strength of his hold. Her arms looped over his shoulders, and her fingernails bit into his skin. His thick cock strained beneath his boxers. His lips devoured her, working down her neck as his hands worked up, smoothing over her shirt, her shoulders, to slide under her t-shirt.

He wasn’t gentle as he explored, and she didn’t want him to be. His journey made her kiss him deeper, hold him closer, until she landed on her back and Rocco peered over her. His legs nestled between hers, and his erection rubbed between her legs.

“You taste so sweet.” His lips caressed the top of her breast right above the neck line of the shirt. So slowly that she wanted to scream, he moved to her nipple, teasing it, tugging it through the cotton. His tongue stroked the tip, then moved to her other mound. Same action. Same reaction. Arousal pooled and need drove her dizzy. His calloused palms slid over her stomach, freeing her from the suddenly unbearable confines of her shirt.

Rocco drew back, and his cock angled out. His chest loomed, perfect and scarred. A steamroller of a man holding himself so carefully over her… but it was his eyes that stole her breath.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” He cupped a breast and leaned back over, taking it into his mouth. His tongue worked over the swell, flicking and encircling.

Words of a response floated away. He was the gorgeous one, brute strength wrapped into one sex god of a man.

Her hips rocked against him, pressing her sweats-covered wetness against his shaft, and getting a hell of a reaction. Brows pinching. Head dropping.
She
did that to Rocco. All tough and impenetrable. It made her steady.
He
made her that way. Steady and stable and sexy in a way that had nothing to do with tight black pants.

“Rocco.” She needed him more than she ever knew that she could a man, and it didn’t make any sense. Her eyes, her heart, had never seen someone who took her, fatal flaws and all, and held her, trying to make her feel better. “You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Because she certainly couldn’t tell him. She’d only known him for a couple weeks, and he’d only known that she’d known him for less time than that, but she’d call it was it was. Her heart, her mind, had pulled a surprise on her, and falling for him was happening fast.

“Right back at you, Kitten.”

She’d started out hating
Kitten
, but damn if she didn’t love hearing it tossed off his lips.

Unclasping her hands from around his neck, she slid them over each ripple of his abdomen. Taut muscles smoothed under her touch. At the waist band of his boxers, she slid her hands around his waist. With powerful thighs between her legs and the delicious curve of his backside under her hand, she moaned when his mouth rasped over her neck again.

He had her naked and underneath him again before she could even pretend to argue. Talented. “God, your curves are killing me.”

His hands ran from her chest to her hips to her bottom and back, fingers kneading into her flesh along his path. Powerful. Masculine. All she could do was nod and experience him. This was normal. Two people in bed, sharing secrets. She loved it. “Sometimes I swear I’m going to change. Forget and move on.”

He pulled back, and caramel eyes warmed down to her soul. “You can’t change it.”

“Maybe.”

“You decided what you’re going to do, and I’m not getting in your way. It’ll either help or it won’t. But right now, you’re with me, not thinking about your history or the future.”

Our future
. “Just us.”

“That’s right. Just us. Right now. Nothing else.”

He reached for his wallet, found a condom, and put it on. The tears that had disappeared were back, emotional but different. He hadn’t said anything that should overwhelm her, but she was on the edge of losing it. Rocco took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers and pressed himself between her legs. He filled her, stretched her, sliding in and out, rocking until she gasped, until her lungs fought for oxygen. Sweat beaded along his forehead. The saltiness of his skin drove her crazy as her mouth kissed his sun-tanned skin.

“Caterina.”

“Yes.” He brought her back to the moment and pulled her close, eyes locked, hands laced tight.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t seem to need anything but her steadfast gaze locked on him. “Just feel for me. Don’t think.”

Don’t think? Or don’t remember? Don’t plot and plan? The answer was simple: don’t do anything except focus on him, his lips, their rhythmic plunges and escalating tension. All that spiraled inside her.

“Okay.” Agreeing to anything he said was easy.

Her mind relaxed, and her body wound tighter. Anticipation and pleasure cried for release. She took his mouth, deepening their kiss, faster and harder, but somehow so sweet. She hooked her leg over his hip and was done for. Eyes shut and arching her back, she tightened on his cock. Caterina’s climax rocked her from the inside out.

Her mind went white. Blank. Nothingness. It was spectacular, a perfect peace that she hadn’t known possible.

Rocco wrapped his arms around her, pumping and driving and bringing his body into hers. His muscles strained. Low, guttural, gratifying groans poured from him, meeting her lips as he kissed her into a climatic oblivion. Finally, he slowed. Stilled. Their breaths and kisses intermixed, lost in the tangle.

When her eyes opened, Rocco still held her tight, and she couldn’t live another moment keeping lies and love to herself. “
Te adoro. Te amo. Mi Galán
.”

His eyes darkened, serious and intent. But he didn’t understand, and sadly, that was her point. She’d let him in on one secret and immediately picked up another. She loved him but wouldn’t risk it all by telling him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rocco listened to the sweet hum of Caterina’s breath as she slowly tumbled into sleep. Cuddling wasn’t his thing. The word even sounded… odd to him, made him all tight-chested and uncomfortable. But holding her like this, all close contact and warm woman, this was the way it was to be done. Completely sated and spent, exhausted but reinvigorated, he could lie there all night long and not complain. The silence gave him an opportunity to replay her words in his head.
Te adoro-amo-what
?
Galán
?

It sounded like a confession. Maybe he was putting words in her mouth or hoping for something she hadn’t said. But he knew adore and love, no matter the language. No idea about
galán
. But as long as it wasn’t “I’ll never,” good things were happening for him.

Her body softened, completely turned over to sleep. One of the most dangerous women in the world lay naked and tucked to his side, her dark hair splayed over the white pillows. She looked angelic. Angelic? Angel… Like when his mind tripped and he imagined his angel… was he imaging Caterina? Maybe.

His fingertips tingled as he recalled the night he’d blacked out in London and woken up the next morning. His memory tripped, trying hard to place broken memories together. Zips and zaps of a hallucination threatened him now. Or was that just a memory? What had happened that night? And why was he suddenly so sure that Caterina had been by his side?

And the angel in his visions? The one who helped him to the other hotel room? That had to be in his head.
It had to be
. Because if not… Why wouldn’t she say anything? So it wasn’t her…Or was it? Damn his stupid episodes.

Rocco scrubbed his face and pinched his eyes, calming his mind down and forcing himself to remember the night in London with the guys. He’d left the bar. Stumbled onto a bench. Saw an angel who guided him to his hotel room, saving him from himself, and disappearing into the night. But not before writing a note on the mirror.

Handsome.

Only someone who played spy games would think about leaving an invisible message on the mirror, chancing that he might take a shower. Only someone who had brought up coincidence more than once. And only a woman who could read people as well as Caterina did would have seen him for what he was: not a drunk or a druggie, but someone like her who needed a hand in a messed up situation. He stared at her as his thoughts rushed, not sure if he was trying to put order into his chaos or if he was about to lose his mind again. Room five twenty-one wasn’t that far away if it were the case, but he sure didn’t want to leave the bed and let her wake up alone.

Deep breath. In, out, in, and then the threat of a hallucination dissipated, leaving him oddly relaxed. Rocco leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I just might be crazy enough to believe in coincidence now.”

Sliding from the covers, he pulled on his sweatpants, tucked her in, and grabbed his phone, heading toward the mini bar. Glass-paned French doors separated the area from the bed, and the doors clicked quietly as he shut them. He dialed Jared’s cell phone and cracked open the little fridge. Nothing but Diet Cokes. Made him laugh. Water from the tap would have to do, and while Jared’s phone rang, he filled his glass and stared through the glass door at his girl. Gorgeous. Even in the dark, when he could barely make out anything. Fuckin’ gorgeous.

He shook his head. Not his girl. But his partner—

“About time you checked in.” Jared’s grumble was so loud Rocco watched to see if he woke Caterina.

She didn’t stir. And why would she have? It was a phone, not a PA system, and he was in another room.

But still Rocco faced away from her, keeping his voice low. “Hello to you too, dick.”

He gave a quick update, mentioned Roman, but didn’t play his hand one way or another about that, and gave up nothing that would tip Boss Man off to… what? The fact that he was playing house like a pro? That he’d gone from thinking about what was behind an MI6 partition to seeing what was under her clothes? He didn’t kiss and tell, so Jared could stay in the dark.

“Anything else?” Boss Man was fishing. Maybe that was the reason Roman was sent out to help? Because Jared knew that Rocco was still hallucinating? Well, he wouldn’t fess up to that. Too much on the line. Caterina had too much invested in this job, in El Mateperros, and if Jared pulled him out, she’d be stuck just shy of getting what she needed. That, and his ass would be benched, Titan-style. He rubbed his face. Losing his job should have been the bigger of the two concerns.

“Rocco,” Jared snapped at him. “You still there?”

“Yeah. Bad connection.”

“Right. Anything else?”

“Nope.” Tension hung on the line. “All right then—”

“Did she tell you?”

Not where Rocco thought the conversation might go. With ninety-nine percent certainty they were thinking of the same topic, he agreed. “Yup.”

“You okay with this job?”

Rocco chuckled. Leave it to Jared to make sure that, when shit got gray and murky, everyone agreed what was right and what was wrong. Rocco turned back toward the bed. Caterina was partially obscured by the comforter. Everything having to do with that woman was right. “Never more so.”

“Good.” Jared exhaled into the phone. “Good. Look. I may have turned that girl into a killer. She could’ve grown up to be, I don’t know, an accountant or a doctor or something. Not… what she is. An interrogator on a mission.”

Rocco pictured Cat with the live wires in her hand, touching the ends and smiling as the sparks ignited. Then the remembered the grief in her eyes and the pain in her words, recounting the massacre of her family.

“A woman with that kind of pain and that kind of drive? The best thing you did was give her an outlet. Pain like that has to be channeled.” He shook his head. “If she didn’t have that, then…I don’t know if she’d be here today.”

Jared didn’t answer, and Rocco didn’t hang up. Whatever they both had left to say, neither volunteered.

“By the way.” Boss Man broke the silence. “Doc Tuska said you never followed up after you checked out of the hospital. Go see the doc.”

Rocco dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. So Jared and the doc had talked. That was all but a confirmation that if Doc Tuska knew what was going on, Jared knew. Too bad Rocco wasn’t volunteering anything about his occasional, unpredictable electrical jab of zips and zaps that made him lose his mind. That was need-to-know intel, and no one needed to know.

“I’m all over it when I get home. Thanks for the reminder. Bye.”