The Last Detail (2 page)

He was surprised at the feel of her against him. Smaller than he thought, her bone structure leaned toward the delicate side. She appeared to be much larger, but that was probably due to the attitude. And in this place, she had a good reason to project that. Without really revealing he was studying her, he took note of her features.

Blonde hair, honey-toned skin with a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose. Not to mention full, sensuously naked lips. Looking closer, he realized just how at odds her looks were with her demeanor.

As they walked past the junkies and other trash seated at the tables, he kept half his attention on her and the other half on them. It was difficult to maintain his usual alertness with her body pressed against his and her slightly musky scent reaching him through the stench of reefer smoke.

Once outside, he turned her toward the hotel where he’d rented the room. Anticipation skated along his nerve endings. It’d been a while since he’d had a woman due to his situation. But the heat pumping through him had less to do with abstinence and more to do with the woman by his side. He hadn’t even been tempted the last few months, other than to grab the occasional fuck. This one though, there was something—a spark—just from making eye contact. He couldn’t wait to get her naked and under him.

Arousal skated along his spine as they approached his hotel. He should be concentrating on his problems, trying to figure out just why he was being ignored by Zenich, but he needed this. He truly shouldn’t be fucking a woman he barely knew, that was dangerous in his line of work. But he knew he could handle anything she threw at him, and for once in a very long while, he was going to take a risk. For this one night he was going to have his cake—he looked down at her—and eat it too.

Several minutes later, they were in his room. After ordering the lights on, low, dim setting, he approached her. As he did, he noticed a few things about the woman. She was younger than he had expected. Maybe in her late twenties at best, but her bearing made her appear older.

She wandered around his front room pretending interest in his belongings. He knew for a fact she could feel the connection between them. It was as thick as the reefer smoke in the bar. From the moment he saw her, he knew he wanted her. And that feeling had grown in the last few minutes to the point of pain. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d make it past two pumps before completely losing control.

“I haven’t seen you around before.” He winced at the benign comment.

She shot him another cocky smile over her shoulder that he felt all the way to the soles of his feet. Not to mention another body part. He knew then she’d been waiting to see if he would speak first, some kind of power play. Just like when she’d challenged him when he watched her drink.

“I just got in yesterday, been spending most of my time in the Dursend Sector.”

She turned back around and bent over slightly, looking at his holograms. They weren’t of anything or anyone he knew, just part of the cover, so he let her have her look. And while she did, he enjoyed the view it afforded him.

With more light, it was easy to make out the heart-shaped ass encased in the black pseudo-leather pants she wore. She still carried her weapon in the holster at her side, and he was sure she probably had one or two hidden somewhere else. He had to respect that.

“Would you think it too forward if I asked your name?”

She laughed, and the sound of it shivered through him. Deep and husky, it was just the kind of laugh a man liked to hear in a bedroom. Coy giggles did nothing for Sam, but a laugh like hers brought to mind soft murmurs and moans, silk sheets and spending all day in bed with nothing more than each other to feast upon.

“Sure, Slick. Everyone calls me Lou. You gonna tell me yours?”

He paused for a second, waiting for her to say more, for her to turn around. When she didn’t, he answered.

“Sam.”

She nodded but still didn’t face him. He understood to a point. It was a game, to see who would break first. Normally, Sam was all for fun and games. He liked to tease, be teased, all in good time. There was something about showing that type of control, playing on it, that heightened his enjoyment. But he didn’t have the patience for it tonight.

Something moved within him, something he didn’t understand, something that normally would have scared the hell out of him. It was so primal he was sure he’d never be able to explain it. He wanted her, and he wanted her now. His body was almost shaking with the need to take her and make her his. Even as he tried to ignore his reaction, it almost overwhelmed every rational thought he had.

Walking up silently behind her, he stopped within inches. He inhaled, drinking in the scent of her, something that had been ruined by the bar’s odors. Clean, fresh woman, nothing else. It had been a long time since he’d been close to a real woman, especially one without any kind of price.

He took her waist between his hands and pulled her back against him. Her weapon slammed against his leg, but he ignored it. His cock pulsed at the feel of her soft curves pressed against it. She moved her hips, causing the fabric to rub against his shaft and he groaned. She purred in response.

With no coyness whatsoever, she leaned back against him, sliding her arms up around his neck. Turning her head, she brought his mouth down to hers for a wet, opened-mouth kiss. As his heart beat so hard he was sure she could feel it against her back, he drank in the taste of her. Jesus, she was sweet, with just enough spice. All the while, she continued to move against him. A drop of precome wet the head of his dick and he started to wonder if he would actually make it two pumps at all.

He slid his hands up her torso, past her stomach to cup her breasts. Tearing her mouth away from his, she moaned.

“Ahh, you like that, do you?” Arousal threaded his voice.

Her only response was to press her ass harder against his groin. Lord, he could imagine slipping into her from behind with a nice handful of that round ass of hers. To reward her, he pinched her nipples and smiled when she moaned again.

Before he was ready, she was pulling away from him. She turned to face him, her eyes darkened with her own arousal. He could see the outline of her nipples pressing against her shirt. Licking his lips, he reached for her shirt, wanting to see what they looked like, what they tasted like. She stepped back from him, shaking her head. His shaft throbbed, straining, almost begging for relief.

Her gaze roved down his body—stopping briefly at his crotch. Her lips curved, her tongue darting out to wet them. Damn if he didn’t feel it like a lick against his skin. Then she slowly returned her attention to his face.

“So, Slick.” Arousal deepened her voice and another burst of heated blood shot to his groin. “Are you planning on sharing that weapon or are you going to make me beg?”

Chapter Two

Lou swallowed the urge to run screaming from Dawson’s room. She had a job to do. She was a professional and had been for ten years. Everyone knew she was cold, methodical. Hell, there were men who called her the Ice Princess, and many hinted at her sexual preference, although neither group would do so to her face. She scared the hell out of most them. She could do this. He was just another detail. But holy Christ in a skirt. The man was driving her batty.

“What is it you want me to do?” he asked.

She loved his voice. There was a hint of the southern US in it—a twang—she hadn’t heard in years. It’d been driving her half-insane since she heard him first talk. She’d always been a sucker for southern men, with their pretty manners and seductive smiles. That voice…it promised things she had no right to, but it didn’t stop her from wanting them. From yearning for them.

Snap out of it, Louella Campbell. She was acting like a rookie retriever. After years on the job, she knew not to let a detail get under your skin. She needed to remember this wasn’t real life. This was her job, and she wasn’t going to allow her last retrieval fuck up her chances of being free. It was a normal ploy she used now and then, especially on human males. They were an easy bunch to entice. Get their dick interested and you could lead them to hell and back—and they would beg for more.

This was different. Something simmered between them. She hadn’t felt need for another human’s touch in years. Did he feel the need that burned through her veins? No, it had to be her. Men like him—hell, most men—didn’t have softer feelings. All they cared about was scoring, so it was probably her. Maybe she was going soft. It was a good thing she was getting out when she was. You go soft in the business and you end up dead. She’d had regrets about some of her jobs. She knew just how hard it was to survive, and sometimes you had to step over that line to do it. Even with those regrets, she would make her collar and take them in. It was a job. Emotion had nothing to do with it. Do the job, take the money, go home.

There was something that was throwing her off on this one. From the moment she’d seen his hologram, she’d felt some kind of attraction toward him. In the flesh, he was a lonely woman’s wet dream come true. And now, for the first time in all these years, she wanted to screw the brains out of one of her pickups. Because that thought scared the hell out of her, her voice was rougher when she spoke.

“I’d like you to take off that shirt.”

He quirked one eyebrow, his lips curving. She pulled in a deep breath to try and calm her heart. Not to mention the wave of heat spilling through her.

“And what will you give me if I do?”

His voice rolled over every syllable, his accent becoming more lazy and seductive. Seven hells, he was beautiful. Not pretty-boy handsome. He was too earthy and flawed for that. His nose had been broken once—or maybe twice—and there was a scar on the right side of his upper lip. Damned if that didn’t make him even more attractive. He wore his sexuality right out in front for the entire world to see. Raw, basic, animal.

There was a part of her that wanted to strip him down and use his body. He was offering that, not knowing her objectives. That she was sure of. The fact that she hadn’t felt this way in a long time…it caused more than a few problems. It had nothing to do with ethics and everything to do with survival.

She wanted him. Wanted to feel his heat, wanted to stroke his cock, feel it slide into her as her muscles clamped down. She shifted her legs, the fabric of her pants brushing against her clit. Damp already, the action caused another gush of liquid to fill her sex. God, just this once she wanted the feel of skin against hers.

Dammit to Hades, she was doing it again. This detail was too important. It offered more than money. It promised freedom. Bringing her mind, and her hormones, back under control, she spoke, invoking the cool tone she used for enemy combatants.

“If you’re good…” She licked her lips and was pleased to watch his gaze follow the action. “Well, I’ll just have to reward you.”

Approval shone from his eyes. As he began to unsnap his shirt, she counted backwards from ten. Then did it again. It was no use. It didn’t help that he was taking a long time to simply take off his shirt. She wanted to tell him to hurry it up, or grab the fabric and tear it from his body. The challenge she saw in his eyes told her he was testing her.

When he finally pulled the fabric away, revealing a sculpted chest, liquid heat coiled in her stomach. Curling her fingers into her hands, she resisted the urge to step closer and glide her hands over his flesh. Slowly, he pulled the shirt off his shoulders, down his arms and then allowed it to slip to the floor. When she returned her attention to his face, his smile was now a grin, and she knew she’d been had.

“Think you’re funny?”

“No.” His smile grew. “Just doing as ordered, Lou.”

She tried to ignore the slap of warmth that traveled down her spine and the way her breasts ached to be touched. The man was a walking seduction, and all he had to do was say her name in the southern twang and whole body throbbed.

Keeping her hands by her sides, she stepped forward. His smile faded, but amusement still sparkled in the depths of his gray eyes. She’d love to smack that smug smile off his face. He probably expected her to touch his chest, so she did something different. Not breaking eye contact, she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his pants and was rewarded when all the amusement drained from his facial features.

Her fingers slid over the head of his cock, already wet, and he closed his eyes, his body shuddering. There wasn’t much room in the pants, being that they were some kind of micro-leather, and like she thought before, he was a big one. But she found enough give in the pants to trail one finger down the side of his shaft and was rewarded with a moan. Knowing there was only so far she could push him before he took back control, she pulled her hand out. When he opened his eyes, she almost melted on the spot. Lust shimmered, darkening his eyes to almost black. With just that one little look he had her almost begging him to strip naked and offer his body for her experimentation. She knew she needed control. If she didn’t direct the show, she would lose the upper hand and possibly lose her fee. Or her life.

Lifting her fingers to her mouth, she licked off the drops of precome. The salty taste of him made her wish things could be different. Closing her eyes, she tried to wipe any of those desires out of her mind. She wanted what she couldn’t have. Losing herself in a man wasn’t a luxury she’d experienced in eons, and this one would make it easy.

When she realized she was losing her train of thought yet again, she mentally shook herself and brought herself back to the task at hand—so to speak. She needed to stay one step in front of Dawson. He was a crafty man, one that was probably a double agent and wouldn’t think twice about slitting her throat.

She raised her gaze to his. “Why don’t you have a seat?” she said with a smile.

He hesitated for a moment, but then heeded her command. Once he was seated, she walked around him. The only sounds in his apartment came from the street below and his harsh breathing. She shouldn’t be so turned on by him, by the fact he liked to be touched by her. For the first time in ten years, she wanted a man’s hands on her. And wasn’t that just her luck.