SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter 6

Coglione!
That about summed up how Scratch felt at the moment. He was an idiot. He hadn’t expected anything that went down in his office earlier that day to happen. Yeah, he was supposed to make Monica all hot and bothered. He was supposed to find a weak point in her prickly exterior, and find an opening to get inside of her head. What he wasn’t supposed to do was get trapped in his own damn web.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed out loud, for good measure. She tasted sweeter than heaven, and felt hotter than silk sheets and sex. The feel of her hands caressing his cock? Unparalleled. He’d never had a woman set him off so damn quick. He couldn’t quite get the taste of her out of his mouth. Something he shouldn’t have been thinking of when he realized that she was on to him. He needed to get focused and keep her clear of the TopSec accounts. He needed to keep Jack clear, but all he could fucking think about was how great it would be to spread her over his desk and take her until both their heads exploded.

“That little pink lace bra has to be illegal on every continent,” he grumbled as he slammed his apartment door and pulled at his tie. Great thing about having the whole floor to himself was that he could make as much noise as he pleased and no one would give a damn. Well, not exactly true. If he made too much noise, Jack would bust down his doors, guns blazing, with Glitch hacking into every electrical link-up he had in the house until he could make it a virtual prison for an intruder.

The pains and benefits of having two very dangerous friends in their own right.

For now though, Scratch shrugged out of his coat and shirt. He needed to get his hormones under control before he called Jack down to curse him the hell out for being caught, and then find out what he dug up on Monica. Plan firmly in mind, he stripped out of his slacks and boxers. His dick slapped his leg heavily, at half-mast already by just remembering what had happened in the office. Scratch groaned as he headed for the shower. A cold one was in order.

He put the nozzle on arctic cold, full blast, and jumped in without taking a breath. The shock of the cold made him gasp but didn’t quite clear his head. He ducked said traitor under the spray and let the water run over him. He tried to focus on his clenching muscles and force them to relax. Focus on the chilled slide of water over his skin to cool his temperature. But when a droplet slid over his lips, all he could think of when he closed his eyes, was Monica’s tongue. How warm and wet it had been against his. How she’d taken to his mouth like a drowning woman to air.

He couldn’t stop his hand running down the front of his body, over his abs and then his groin, and then his cock. He remembered her hand there, stroking over him, through his slacks. Her little hand would be so hot against his skin. Would she memorize it? Finger her way along the head and down his shaft until she knew every inch of him? His fingers traced his thoughts as his other hand slammed to the wall to brace himself. He bit his lip as he pumped once, testing the grip.

“Monica,” he moaned into the air, lost in the vanilla scent in her neck. The taste of her lace covered nipple, and a hot working mouth. He reached blindly for his body wash and squeezed some over his working hand. The suds smoothed out his glide, the friction now shooting him higher. The body wash bottle hit the ground with a thud, but he ignored it. He just kept imagining her touching him, kissing him. And then his mind began to wonder further. He was lifting her off her feet and then pushing everything off the desk that was in the way. He laid her down and followed her, grinding his cock against her. He pumped his hand faster as he bit her bra and pulled until it ripped and fell away from her breasts.

“Perfect,” he whispered, and took her nipple into his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue as his hand sought out her panties he knew would be soaked from his touch—pushed the wet cloth away to find skin so fucking hot that he fell to his knees in the shower. His cock twitched as he pushed a finger into her tight little hold. It thickened when she moaned and cried his name. His name. Not Scratch, or George, but Zio, the name he wished he could hear from her lips.

A name that would be dangerous.

And even though he knew that, he was shouting his release, pumping at his cock harder and harder as shot after shot of cum hit the wall of the shower. He slumped, breathing heavily against the cold tile.

“I have lost my damn mind,” Scratch said, chuckling, even as he forced himself to stand up. Quickly, because the shower was damn cold without the thought of Monica to warm him up, he washed and got out. While he toweled down, he reached for his phone and dialed Jack.

“What?” Jack answered after a few rings.

“Is that anyway to answer your best friend?” Scratch said.

“No, that’s why I answered that way,” Jack returned.

“Ouch, that really hurt. Really. But it makes what I’m about to say even easier. You failed today. You got caught.”

“I’ll be right down.” The phone disconnected before Scratch could say anything else. Nothing got Jack moving like thinking he’d messed up somehow. Scratch knew he didn’t have much time so he quickly slipped on some sweats and padded to his front door. By the time he had it unlatched, Jack was knocking. He opened the door and stepped back to let his friend in. Jack entered in comfy jeans and a blue hoodie, his normal attire. It was kind of odd seeing a grown man dress like a teenager sometimes, but Jack liked people to underestimate him like that.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked with little preamble. He went straight for Scratch’s kitchen and came back with two beers.

“Long story short? Monica knew you were tracking her,” Scratch answered as he grabbed the beer Jack had gotten for him.

“Excuse me?” Jack asked.

“You heard me. Came storming into my office today, mad as hell about the dummy accounts and the fact that I’d had her looked into. I was able to save it, don’t worry, but she will be suspicious now.

“Damn,” Jack commented, taking a sip of his beer. Not too many people could get by him. Even less knew when he was around. His respect for the woman went up some. If she’d been a Spook, a spy or something, he’d have handled her with kid gloves. As a federal agent, he’d been careful, but not as careful as he could have been. Still, her catching on was a coup for her, most definitely.

“What she say?” Jack asked.

“Just wanted to know why I had her looked into. Even had a list of the things that had been checked. Whoever you used wasn’t quiet enough.”

“Apparently, a problem I will handle, and soon,” Jack promised. Scratch flinched; not even wanting to know whose head would roll for that one.

“Consequently, what did you dig up on her?”

“Monica Renee Tidwell, thirty years old, been a federal agent for the last four years. Before that, she was in the TPD as a narcotics officer for five years, and a beat cop for one. She went into the Academy right after a two year degree.”

“Damn, being a cop is in her blood,” Scratch commented.

“Yeah, her brother was an FBI Agent. Can’t get much on him. His file is sensitive. I’d have to dig too deep to pull it, but they don’t share the same name, for some reason. It would have been easier if they did. She’s had a few cop boyfriends, even was engaged once, but it seems she is more about the job than about love.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Scratch added.

It didn’t surprise him that she’d been a beat cop in Trenton, New Jersey. Accounted for some of her attitude and her fight. She had no choice but to be tough like that. Someone just had to be from up north to understand. He couldn’t use it, though, to get close to her. George Hines was from sunny California. A much different disposition. It did, though, give him some insight. What had happened in the office between them was out of Monica’s norm. If she put her job before men that she’d cared about, then maybe Scratch was already under her skin. A thought that pleased him, because she was damn sure under his.

“It’s enough to play with,” Scratch said finally.

“She just doesn’t do much outside of work. She works out regularly. Is qualified in several weapons, from rifles to various side arms. She’s come up the ranks quickly from simple desk agent to field agent working white-collar crime. But, it appears she has her eyes set on getting into harder cases. She’s just finished a graduate degree in both psychology and sociology, on top of her bachelor’s in criminology.”

“She’s no dummy,” Scratch said approvingly. No, Monica was no dummy. She’d had a pretty fast track career in law enforcement, considering her age. She was just two years younger than him. Hell, she was older than Glitch by two years but held an extra degree on him. Though, Glitch tended to go for doctorates so he’d argue that argument.

“Any darkness in her past? Skeletons?” Scratch asked.

“No. She’s seen hell on the streets, I’m sure, but doesn’t have much in the way of personal tragedy, from what I could dig up. But then I’m missing a full mark-up, so you can’t quote me on that.”

“It’s fine. You got a lot, considering.”

“Good, because I can’t dig anymore at this point.”

“You got one-upped man,” Scratch added with a laugh. Jack just stared at him.

“Do what you do best. Fuck her and get what she knows out of her. The closer you get her the better our chances.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Scratch answered, raising his bottle in salute to Jack. He took a swig after Jack matched him. Yeah, he could go for getting in her pants. That was a most definite. He wouldn’t let himself do anything less. If what happened just about a half  hour before in the shower was any indication, his mind wasn’t going to let him stop thinking about her. Even now, he wondered what the guys she’d been with before were like. Wondered if that fiancé she had treated her right and they just grew apart, or if he hurt her when they’d split. He wondered about this brother whose file was locked like Fort Knox. And most of all, he wondered what made that beautiful woman tick. So yeah, he was all for taking one for the team.

The problem? He didn’t want to know these things for a purely professional reason. And he didn’t know if he’d come out unscathed in the end. At least, though, he had a plan on how to start. He wondered if she’d take him up on dinner, for business purposes, of course. He tried not to spit his beer out as he laughed at the confused expression on Jack’s face.

Some thoughts the bros just didn’t need to know.

Chapter 7

Things never went
his way. That was just how life was for Scratch, and he was used to it being that way. So when he extended an invitation to Monica for dinner, it was with little expectation that she would accept—if she responded at all. It had been a few days and he hadn’t heard from her about the date, or the information that he still owed to her. Not wanting to piss off the FBI, Glitch had prepared a vague summary report that included some information about TopSec. Most of it was false, but it was enough to satisfy her without offending her intelligence as she had so vehemently protested.

None of that  mattered anyway, because not hearing from her was almost as bad as the thought that she was upset with him. Not even the excitement of solidifying their plans to start over was enough to keep her out of his thoughts. The kiss they shared had awakened something inside of him. Jack’s warning kept ringing in his ears, but he ignored it. He wasn’t concerned about falling in love.

Monica intrigued him because she was different than the women he was used to screwing with. The point being, that he couldn’t screw with her. As ticked off as he had been at first, the sight of her charging into his office was a turn on like no other. She raised her voice, but she didn’t scream. She made her point and gave him the opportunity to respond, and as much as she wanted to resist him, she gave into her attraction for him. Her honest approach to things was refreshing because she didn’t try to act tough. She showed both her strength and her vulnerability readily. The combination was an intoxicating elixir to a man who was suffering from a broken heart.

Maybe Jack was right. Scratch needed to handle this situation delicately. He would have to try his damnedest to be as honest as he could be. No need to fill her with unnecessary lies. She would see through that right away, and it would transfer onto the way she handled the investigation. He may be arrogant, but he wasn’t fool enough to think she would go easy on him because he was giving it to her right. Well, that’s if they ever made it to that stage.

Scratch had all but given up on the idea when his office phone lit up. That phone never rang unless someone called the wrong extension, or he was late to a meeting and they were looking for him. He almost ignored the call, but decided to pick it up at the last minute.

“Mr. Hines.” Monica’s smooth voice was like a symphony to his ears.

“Agent Tidwell,” he replied, trying to sound unaffected by her call.

“Tonight, eight o’clock, tell me where and I’ll meet you there,” she shot out like a torpedo.

“What if I’m not available tonight?” He was totally free.

“You will be if you want to have dinner with me,” she answered easily.

“Wow. I don’t know how to feel about this,” he teased. “I thought there were rules to this sort of thing. Like, never go out on the same night you’ve been asked, or what not.”

“Well,” she chuckled. “You asked me out, and I am saying yes. You didn’t specify a time or a date, so technically I’m throwing you a bone by even accepting. Now it’s on you to tell me where to meet you, or decline.”

“Throwing me a bone? You’re not even giving me the chance to be a gentleman. I’m supposed to pick you up. Walk you from your front door, open your doors, and at the end of the night hope you invite me in for a nightcap.”

“Oh enough!” She laughed in a way that let him know she was trying to hold most of it in. “We both know you can’t just show up to my place, nor can I come to yours.”

He did know that, he was just having a good time teasing her.

“OK,” he conceded. “The St. Regis hotel at eight. I’ll make reservations at King Cole.”

“The St. Regis? Oh my,” she said with a mock swoon. “You’ve earned a few points there, buddy.”

“Well. Like I said before, I’ll take what I can get.”

Patience wasn’t one of Scratch’s finer virtues. Not that he had many to begin with, but he found it irksome when someone set a time or date and then proceeded to arrive later than agreed. He planned to tell Monica as much, until he spotted her being escorted to their table by the maître de. Visions of her pink lace bra would be replaced by the dress she was wearing for their date. He thought she might have a thing for lace, because she was draped in it from head to toe.

The dress was ankle length and long sleeved but it was made up of carefully constructed black lace that covered her most private places. Holding the lace together was a sheer black material that revealed the remaining expanse of her gorgeous skin. Her hair was straightened and pulled back into a sleek ponytail with a side part. She paired the look with a pewter colored clutch and matching heels. She was a woman after his own heart, with a mean shoe game. He’d yet to see a pair that didn’t cause him to imagine her wearing them and nothing else.

He remembered his manners in time to rise from his own seat, and helped her into  hers across from him. The hostess looked on approvingly as he pushed her chair closer to the table. Monica thanked him for his help with a demure smile. Using it as an excuse to get close enough to enjoy her scent, he whispered in her ear how stunning she looked. Instead of blushing, she winked at him. Scratch refrained from bursting out with laughter that would be sure to bring them unwanted glares from the upper echelon crowd.

“I was beginning to think you stood me up,” he admitted.

“You know a lady has to make an entrance,” she teased.

He nodded in agreement. “And what an entrance it was.”

They exchanged more light banter until the waiter came to take their drink orders. Scratch ordered a Glenlivet 21 on the rocks and Monica ordered a Jameson and ginger. He nodded in approval of her selection.

“You surprised?” She raised a brow as if challenging him to say something disparaging.

He laughed, enjoying her spunkiness.

“Pleasantly. Haven’t come across a lot of female scotch drinkers. I see we have something in common. That’s a start.”

Monica gave him the Michelle Obama side-eye.

“And just how many women have you come across?”

“Enough,” Scratch said firmly. He may be a numbers guy, but wasn’t a fan of discussing them when it came to past flings. No number was ever a good number. Too many, and you were a man whore. Too few, and there had to be something wrong with you.

“I’m sure,” she retorted. As he expected.

“The number is zero as of right now. Does that work for you?”

“I find that hard to believe,” she admitted.

“I find it hard to believe that you think I have time to lie to you. It’s not like you couldn’t just look it up if you wanted.”

“Yeah, well I try not to get too creepy with the digging,” she said, referring to his search on her. “I’m good with the basics. Clean record. Self-sufficient. Loves his mother. You get it.”

Scratch nodded his head and tried not to wince when she mentioned loving his mother. God knows that’s a love that would never die.

In all honesty, he hadn’t known what to expect from her as far as their date was concerned. His interactions with her had been executed in a professional manner, well the majority, and he was surprised and relieved by her relaxed attitude. There were no discussions of the investigation, or the incident in his office. They shared a delicious meal with conversation and wine flowing. Discussing topics they were both interested in without diving into anything too personal. The more they talked the more he felt himself falling under her spell. Monica had a sense of humor that kept him laughing. She wasn’t easily offended, which was a blessing for a man whose mouth was known to get him into trouble. He found that she was easy to talk to, and that he also loved listening to her tell stories of her childhood and college days.

Before he knew it, their server was clearing away the long finished dessert plates and asking if Scratch was ready for the bill. He tried to ignore the swell of disappointment that the evening was already coming to an end. Looking to Monica for direction, he could see in her eyes that she wasn’t ready to end things just yet either.

“I’ve had an amazing time tonight, George. Thank you.”

“Believe me, the pleasure has been all mine.” He gave her a look that was a cross between appreciation and longing. Nothing would have pleased him more than taking their evening further, but oddly enough, he was content with not pushing his luck. Then, she through him for a loop.

“Are you sure about that?”

Scratch narrowed his eyes at her question. He was pretty certain he understood what she was insinuating, and it shocked the shit out of him.

“Excuse me?” He said for clarification.

“Are you sure that the pleasure has been all yours? And that you’ve gotten all the pleasure out of tonight?”

He was instantly hard as a rock.

“I don’t think I could ever get enough pleasure, from you,” he drawled.

“Hmmm. Is that a theory or a fact?”

“Why don’t you find out,” he hedged. Those few sentences in their exchange were more intense than any foreplay he had ever engaged in. Icy blue eyes pierced into warm chocolate browns as they both exchanged heated gazes. Even though it was wrong, he prayed that she wasn’t just being flirtatious. She was so easy and hard to read all at once.

“Yes,” was her simple response.

That was enough.

When the waiter returned with his credit card, he put in a request to have a bottle of champagne sent up to his suite. That was one reason for choosing to dine in that particular hotel. His standing master suite was just one of the perks of making the right people a lot of money. It was also a very discreet location. Very low odds of running into any other federal agents, or employees from HG.