Mine to Keep: Protection Series Book 4, page 8
“You say that like it’s happened before,” I stated, keeping a close eye on her reaction.
“What part?”
“The part where I’d get frustrated and give up on you. I’m not sure who tried to help you before, but this stuff isn’t easy to learn. Patience and time are key when teaching the ins and outs of complex software.”
That raw lower lip sealed to the top, pressing into a thin line. Her intense stare jerked away to now searching anywhere other than where I sat.
With a clap, she popped off the bed and hurried over to the small black bag resting atop the other double bed.
“Give me a few minutes to get changed, and then we can leave for the barre class. I like being early to get a front-row spot along the mirrors.”
“Cool, I’ll wait for you downstairs.” The sticky carpet—why the hell it was sticky was a question I didn’t want to know the answer to—pressed against my bare feet when I rose from the chair, reminding me I was still shoeless and keyless. “It might take me a little longer than you. I need to get a new key made to grab shoes.”
She paused from rummaging around in her go bag, peeking up with a strange look across her face. “Don’t think I’m a creeper or anything, but I may already have one for your room.” Her features pinched in a grimace.
“You what?” That wasn’t protocol, though I loved the idea that she could sneak into my room any time she wanted.
She groaned and sealed her eyes shut, tapping a finger to her temple. “Another fun fact about anxiety. I run through various irrational outcomes that will never happen so I’m prepared for all situations just in case. One of those scenarios I completely made up in my head was you needing help with me unable to get to you because your door was locked, and then you dying with me beating on the door. So, putting my mind at ease, I requested a key to your room.” Focused on her wiggling toes, she gnawed on the edge of her lower lip. “I’m sorry if that bothers you. It’s a gross overstep and unprofessional—”
“No harm, no foul, Rhyan.” The fact that she worried about me shouldn’t have made me happy, but it sure fucking did. “And right now, I’m glad you took that extra step to get one made for my room. You’ve now saved me a trip and possibly athlete’s foot or something worse.”
Ducking her head to hide her grin, she pointed to the laptop bag next to the desk. “The key is in there, the side pocket. It’s the one with a star on the corner so I wouldn’t get it confused with mine.”
While I dug through the side pocket, searching for the key card, a door shut behind me. Checking over my shoulder, I found myself alone in her room, the shuffle of clothing coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
Turning back around, I eyed the sleeping computer. It called to me, begged me to turn it on and dig through her secrets. It was wrong, an invasion of privacy, but I was possessed by the need to know more about this Rhyan Riggs. To uncover what—or who, more likely—had twisted her into thinking so many untrue qualities about herself.
Was me searching through her search history and files an invasion of privacy? Well, yeah, but she started it by making a copy of my hotel room key.
Hopefully that argument would stand if she ever found out I snooped just a little.
Another cautious glance over my shoulder, ensuring Rhyan wasn’t behind me. Ignoring the rush of guilt, I slipped the room key into my shorts pocket and clicked on the keyboard, snapping the laptop screen to life.
I cursed under my breath at the blinking password box, as if mocking me for even trying to sneak a peek inside. Asshole. If I had a few minutes, I could hack into the ancient machine, but I didn’t have that kind of time before losing this small window of snooping opportunity.
Time to change tactics.
Gripping the sides of her smartphone, I flipped it over and tapped the screen.
Two texts unread.
Thank the computer gods she had an older phone model that allowed the full texts to be visible instead of hidden until a password was entered. The name listed as the sender for the first one made me snort. No doubt who that text was from.
Fucking Pencil Dick: I will hold you responsible for this case if it ends up being nothing. Think through the consequences and if he’s worth it.
My lips tugged in a snarl, turning feral when I read the next text.
Brian: This avoidance you’ve always done when things get tough won’t work. Time or distance changes nothing. I’m willing to give you a second chance. Be grateful for that and come home.
Setting the phone screen side down, I stormed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind me. Chest heaving, hands trembling from the restraint needed to keep myself from punching through the wallpapered wall, I stepped into my room and slumped back against the door.
Anger brewed in my veins, demanding I find this Brian fucker and help him into a shallow grave.
With this glimpse into her life, one that was taken, not given, I had to decide.
Do what I do best and dig for more details to help her cut ties with those who don’t have her best interest at heart, or leave it alone until she comes to me for help?
But this wasn’t my call to make. It was hers.
Which meant I had to wait for her to trust me enough to unveil the bruises on her soul, the dark spots we all had in our past. Only then could I offer my help.
All I could do now was wait.
And do everything in my power to make sure she knew I was on her side, the one fighting in her corner, no matter what.
7
RHYAN
Watching the elevator doors like a hungry hawk, I shot out of the uncomfortable chair in the hotel lobby, steadying my hands to keep the two coffees from spilling over, at the first glimpse of the man who terrorized my dreams all night. Who knew he was so damn flexible? There were several times during the barre class that I found myself out of breath, and it had nothing to do with the exercise. It was all him. Those tattoos were everywhere, and I was lucky—or unlucky, depending how you looked at it—enough to have seen the detailed artwork over his defined chest and rock-hard abs.
I didn’t know men even came like that. I just figured all those pictures online or in magazines were photoshopped. But last night, outside my hotel room, Charlie stood there in all his muscular glory, clearly not photoshopped and looking better than a professional male model.
He rounded the front desk, the two women working behind it following his every step, those tattooed hands fanning open his deep blue jacket to adjust the collar. My fingers tightened around the paper cups as my belly twisted.
Workout gear or trendy suits, the man was sexy as sin.
Add his tongue ring and he was sin personified. The best kind, not like murdering and decapitating. Sexy sin, the sin of lust and passion.
I squeezed my thighs together to slow the steady throb that hadn’t gone away since I woke up. After dreaming of Charlie making all my dirty fantasies come true all night, I wasn’t sure there were enough batteries in the world to quell this insistent need. And of course, I left my vibrator at home, not thinking I’d need to bring it on a work trip.
Rookie mistake. But in my defense, I’d never worked alongside an agent who looked and smelled and sounded like Charlie before, so how was I to know I’d need nightly relief from this pent-up tension between my thighs?
His electric blue eyes flicked around the lobby, no doubt feeling my stare. His hands paused, and a small smirk tugged at his sensual lips when he found me waiting. My focus slipped to those lips that were made for performing indecent acts. No doubt if they pressed against my own, I’d spill every secret he wanted to know and beg him for more.
“You beat me again,” he said, finishing adjusting his suit coat as he approached.
“Here, I got you one too.” Some of the steaming dark liquid sloshed on the white lid when I thrust it forward. “Black, like you ordered it yesterday morning. Hope that’s what you normally get. I had to guess. Or you could have mine. It’s full of sugar, though. Or did you want something with milk—”
“Black’s perfect.” He took the offered cup. “Thank you. I was jonesing for a good cup.” Those lips wrapped around the white lid, his eyes never breaking away from my own. His soft hum of approval had me swallowing a mouthful of scalding coffee to keep my groan contained. “Am I late? Thought we agreed to meet at eight.”
“We did, and you’re actually early. I was just earlier. I wanted to get a head start on something with the case.”
“Anything I can help with?” he asked. Checking his watch, he shifted around me to sit in the chair beside the one I was standing next to. He grimaced, using the armrest to lower himself to the seat. “I thought last night’s class was a joke until I woke up this morning barely able to fucking move. I even thought about calling in sick for the first time ever.”
“I wondered how you’d feel today. It’s obvious you’re in excellent shape, but barre works a unique set of muscles until they fatigue. It’s a tough workout.”
“No shit. But oddly enough, I really enjoyed it. Nice change from my normal workout routine. Maybe I’ll find a studio back in DC and add it into the rotation.” He shifted, face pinching in a grimace. “Or not.”
My smile beamed behind the disposable coffee cup. I took a quick sip and sat down beside him. When I swiped open my phone, he physically tensed, glancing away when I turned the screen around for him to see what I was working on. “What? You act like I’m about to show you a naked selfie or something. It’s just the search I’ve been working on this morning for the bridges in and around the Louisville area.”
He visibly relaxed as he released a slow breath.
“Sorry, wasn’t sure what to expect.”
“Get a lot of naked selfies, do you?”
“Can you please stop saying naked selfies?” he said with a half groan, half laugh, scrubbing a hand along his clean-shaven jaw. “And you’d be surprised.”
“I saw the way the women last night were wiping up more drool than sweat, so probably not as surprised as you’d think.” Shaking off that thought and the ball of jealousy weighing in my stomach, I shook the phone in my hand, drawing his attention to the screen. “I’m not getting anywhere with Google. It just keeps pulling up the same bridges. I’ve reached out to our dedicated technical analyst at Quantico, but….”
Charlie leaned closer, tossing an arm along the back of my chair as he scrutinized the screen, his fingers now a hairbreadth away from my bare shoulder.
“Yeah, I know. He takes forever to get back to you. I’ve asked Carter to let me have free rein, but he won’t grant me the approval. But,” he said, taking my phone, “just searching this way won’t get you anywhere. Give me the search parameters you want the bridges narrowed down to, such as a certain height and location on the river. I’ll get you a solid list by the end of the day.”
“Really?” The hope in my voice was clear. Not meaning to, I leaned closer toward his chair.
“Or I could always teach you how to—”
I cut him off with a quick shake of my head. Taking a sip of coffee, I set it on top of the glass table by my feet. “I told you, it will just end up with you getting frustrated and me feeling bad about asking. Let’s skip all that. You just run the search, and I’ll go visit the bridges once you’ve pulled a few possibilities.”
“Or,” he countered, leaning farther into my personal space. I swallowed, hoping my breath didn’t reek of sugary coffee. “I run the search, and then we go view the bridges together. That seems like a better scenario to me.”
Huh. That was… odd. He made it sound like he wanted to be around me, not beaten down by the continued time together like Brian always did.
Pulling a thick section of hair past my cheek, I played with the ends, my unfocused gaze sitting right above his shoulder.
“If that’s okay,” he added. Reaching forward, he stilled the twist and flick of my nervous fingers. “If you prefer to do that kind of stuff alone, I won’t push you.”
“It’s not that,” I said in a rush, not even thinking how my response would make him think I didn’t want to be around him. No sane woman would not want to spend as much time with him as possible. I was anxious, not insane. “I just keep finding myself asking why.”
“Why these women were chosen?”
“Why you’d want to spend more time with me. Haven’t you had enough?” His dark brows spiked up his forehead at my confession. “Sorry, forget I said anything.”
“Listen,” he said, setting his coffee cup beside mine with enough force that a spray of dark liquid erupted from the small drinking hole, spilling out onto the glass. His hands wrapped around my own, the tight grip startling me away from the mess. My pulse raced at the fierceness in his searching eyes. “Based on a few of your offhanded comments, I feel like I need to put this out there so there are zero questions on your end regarding how I think or feel about your amazing self. You, Rhyan Riggs, are not who you’ve convinced yourself you are. The woman I’ve had the fucking pleasure of being around the last day is confident, funny, wicked smart, witty, and—I might cross a line here, but fuck it—sexy as hell. Stop assuming I’m doing any of this under duress, or being shocked that I want to spend more time around you. I’m finding myself unable to stop, which is an anomaly for me. And I’ll be honest.” His grip tightened around my trembling hands. “I’m tired of hearing you degrade yourself like you're less than the woman, the agent, I see. Not sure how much more I can hear before I’m forced to take action.”
With all he said, it was his last word that froze all brain function. “Action?” My voice trembled, but not from fear. “What do you mean, action?” I knew what I wanted that word to mean, but maybe he meant making me do fifty push-ups or something.
Those blue eyes blazed with a heat that threatened to burn me alive. “I’ve found certain—” He tilted his head back and forth as he mused over his next words. “—discipline helps correct unacceptable behavior.”
Holy fuck. So not push-ups, but more pleasurable action, like my dirty mind hoped for.
“You’d hit me?” I said in a rush, more excited than terrified.
The corners of his devilish lips twisted upward in a sexy, cruel smile. “I don’t consider turning an ass red with my palm prints as hitting. Do you?”
“Never… never really thought about it.”
“Hmm, that’s too bad.” His spicy cologne wafted up my nose, my eyes almost rolling into the back of my head as his lips pressed along the shell of my ear. “Because I sure as hell have.”
I was going to combust. Blood heated to the point of boiling rolled beneath my skin, and sweat slicked the back of my neck, making my hair stick along the sizzling skin. Unable to get a single word out, I watched in pure shock as he slowly pulled away. He shot me a knowing wink and pushed off the armrests to stand. After adjusting his jacket to cover the enormous bulge tenting the front of his slacks, he grabbed the two coffee cups off the table and gestured toward the front doors.
“Ready to head to the station?”
The sounds of the lobby came roaring back into focus.
“Um, sure. Just, uh….” I licked my lips and pressed a hand to my chest, hoping to keep my heart from escaping. “I just need a quick second.”
His smile spread. That damn tongue ring poked out to roll along his lower lip. The fucker knew what he was doing and seemed to enjoy every second. Of course, I couldn’t say I minded, even though I was almost certain I needed to change panties after all that.
“I’ll bring the Suburban around. Take all the time you need.”
Relief and disappointment washed over me when he turned and strode away, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world while I sat falling apart in the best way possible, all because of him. His dirty, fantasy-inducing words.
Only once he was gone did I release the breath burning in my lungs. Lunging for my laptop bag, I dug around the designated pocket and ripped out my cell, already dialing Olivia’s number by memory alone.
“It’s too fucking early, Rhy. This better be good,” she muttered into the phone.
“He wants to spank me,” I blurted.
A hotel guest getting her free coffee from the cylinder dispenser shot me a scathing look.
“Give me a second.” A grumbled male voice sounded in the background, Olivia whispering for him to go back to sleep, that this was a Rhyan emergency. “Repeat that again for me, because I could’ve sworn you just woke me up with the words ‘he wants to spank me.’”
“That’s what I said. Holy shit, what does that mean?”
“Means I need to meet Agent Hottie with a kink. Now tell me the context. Repeat the conversation word for word. I need to know how spanking was on the table at this unholy hour.”
So I did. I told her everything Charlie said in his long speech, not leaving a single word out.
“Rhy,” she said, and I stilled at her strange tone. “Do you trust this guy?”
“I do. I don’t know what it is about him, but I do. He makes me feel like me being me is more than okay. That I’m desirable, which makes no sense.”
“You are desirable, babe. I have to be honest, I really thought the hottie agent would just be a delightful diversion, but I’m thinking he might be more than that. He’s right, everything he said, and if he thinks smacking your ass around will help what he said sink in, then I’m giving him the green light to do so until you can’t sit for a week.”
“Hey, it’s my ass,” I said defensively. Not sure why, because I was down to giving him the green light too. The memory of the conversation with Carter from last night sprang forward, tossing a bucket of cold water over my spanking dreams. “But it can’t happen. We’re already under too much scrutiny with Carter.”
