Cross Roads, page 26
“I will, if you will do the same.”
The corners of his eyes lifted. “I’ll try.”
She rose and faced him. “Are you sure you want to stay?”
“Positive.”
“I could use someone to help me warm up this big bed.”
He rose to his feet and leaned toward her. “Any someone?”
Unlike Izzy, Lena didn’t have a seductive bone in her body. Not one. But at the disgruntled note in his voice, she released a slow, knowing grin. “You’ll do.” She buffed her nose against his. “For now.”
“For always,” he growled before grasping her beneath the arms and launching her into the air.
Her backside had barely hit the mattress before Rohan’s large frame covered hers, blocking out the lamplight and the world beyond.
Tracing a nail along the length of his jaw, she said, “Desmond was right. There is an untapped wildness in you.”
“Only for you, love.”
His mouth angled over hers. Their tongues tangled, lips mashed, teeth clinked. To get closer, deeper. To reach that pinnacle of pleasure their bodies craved, needed.
Lena’s hips arched upward in an instinctual drive to possess and be possessed. To connect.
To take.
To consume.
“Clothes,” she demanded. “Now.”
He reared up on his haunches and shucked off his dress shirt while she sat up and shimmied out of her top.
Unable to resist all that bare chest mere inches from her face, she pressed her lips against the expanse of skin covering his heart. The organ thundered beneath her touch, and she reveled in her ability to have such an effect on this big, beautiful, brainiac.
His hand came up to clutch the back of her head, encouraging her with the lightest pressure. Her tongue swirled around his hard nipple, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“God, Lena. You have no idea what your touch is doing to me.”
Moving to his left nipple, she gave it equal attention while her palm caressed the extraordinary length of him through his trousers. She glanced up, aware of her glistening lips. “I have some idea.”
Another animalistic sound reverberated in his throat as he unfastened her bra and bore her back down on the bed.
Balancing his weight on his left elbow, his other hand cupped her breast. Massaged it. Tested its meager weight and size.
Lena had never been ashamed of her breast size, nor any other part of her body. But at that moment, with this man, words of apology rose to her lips.
There, they froze.
Right next to her breath.
57
A raw, ungoverned emotion swelled inside Rohan’s chest as he took in the woman beneath him.
She was so beautiful, so perfect in every way.
From her thick, black hair to her expressive gray eyes to her soft brown skin to the tips of her ruched nipples.
He couldn’t stop taking in every square inch of her.
The pressure inside his chest grew, pushing upward into his throat, bear-hugging his airway before storming his skull and shooting straight for his eyes.
He squeezed them shut, clamped his teeth together, and flared his nostrils to accommodate the rapid flow of air. The assault raged for what felt like an eternity, but was in reality mere seconds. Long enough to bend his will and break down his defenses.
Tears gathered, ballooning until gravity sent them cascading down his cheeks.
Lena was there to catch them, to whisk them away with her thumbs.
Others followed.
“Rohan,” she said, alarmed. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
The words he needed to speak trenched into his throat. No amount of swallowing would force them out of their protective shells.
Until his eyes met hers.
The pressure eased enough for him to force out the hardest words he’d ever uttered.
“I never thought,” he said in a guttural voice, “that I would ever,” he kissed the hollow of her neck, “have this.” He pressed his lips to the delicate skin below her chin.
Her hands shook as she dried away the last of his tears. “I know, baby.” She kissed his chin, his cheek, his forehead. “I know.”
Then she reached between them and unfastened his trousers, and Rohan forgot all about second chances.
In between more kisses and laughs and unintended elbow jabs, they wriggled out of their clothes until heated flesh met heated flesh. It was the most exquisite moment of Rohan’s life, and he never wanted clothes to come between them again.
Lena hooked an ankle over his ass, and her wet heat cupped his length. A hiss escaped Rohan’s lips, and he swore he’d spend hours drawing out their pleasure.
Next time.
He removed a condom from the wallet he’d tossed on the bed and prepared to roll it on.
She stayed his hands, and his attention jerked up to her face.
“Old or new?” she asked with a lifted brow.
He smiled. “Brand new.”
“Hopeful, were you?”
“You have no idea.”
Spreading her arms like a seductive angel, she clasped her fingers around the iron bed posts above her head, and waited.
In a few short moves, he was covered and nudging her legs wider.
* * *
Lena squirmed with an aching combination of need and anticipation as Rohan positioned himself at her entrance.
But rather than ease all those tantalizing inches into her, he laid a scorching path of open mouth kisses up her torso, over her breasts, and along her neck.
She grasped his bottom and angled her hips in a way that he could not misinterpret.
Take me.
Now.
His lips glided along her jaw, and his tongue toyed with her earlobe before he drew it into the warm cavern of his mouth.
“Rohan,” she panted.
“Hmm?”
“Put the USB drive into the port.”
He stilled and drew back to look at her, a roguish grin on his face. “Sexy tech talk?”
“Whatever it takes to get you inside me.” She shifted her hips and sucked in a satisfied breath when an inch slid home. “Now.” Her hands smoothed over his broad shoulders until she cradled his head. She brushed her lips against his and whispered, “Please.”
“With absolute pleasure.”
He pushed into her, and Lena’s ability for rational thought vanished. Her lover set a gentle pace at first. She assumed it was to give their bodies time to acclimate to one another.
Whatever the reason, it was maddening. She wanted to feel his passion for her, taste it in his hard kisses, smell it in the sweat coating his skin.
His scary mind must have keyed in on her body’s clues, because he began pounding into her with an intensity that had them both coming in seconds.
As the last pulse rocked her body, Rohan kissed her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. He shifted his weight to her side and, with the lightest of touches, brushed her hair away from her face.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“Not even close.”
“Come here, then.”
He rolled onto his back, and she snuggled against him. His fingers trailed through her hair, over and over, until finally they stilled, and his breaths deepened as sleep claimed him.
Lena itched to pick up her pencil and sketchpad so she could memorialize the novelty of having Rohan Blackwell’s beautiful body naked tangled in her sheets. But she couldn’t bring herself to move from the warmth of his embrace, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
They spent the next two days indulging their bodies, making elaborate meals while wearing bath towels, showering—lots of showering, and sharing stories about their childhoods while cradling their drinks of choice.
By silent consent, they kept the outside world at bay and simply enjoyed each other. No TV, no computers, no phones. Just themselves.
Thankfully, Rohan kept a change of clothes in his car, though he had little need of them. On the final night of their sabbatical, Rohan made love to her again, drawing out the moment with tender kisses, reverent caresses, and long, slow, powerful thrusts.
When the climax of all climaxes speared through her, she yelled out her pleasure and hung on to his broad shoulders until he followed.
Rather than stroke her hair, as he had the previous two nights, until they both fell into satiated oblivion, Rohan rested his shoulders against the headboard and drew her into his side. He splayed one hand over her naked hip and propped his forearm on his upraised knee.
“I need to go back to the office tomorrow,” he said.
“I know.” She brushed her fingers over the ridges of his abdomen. “The Caravaggio awaits me as well.”
“These past two days have been . . . great.”
She smiled against his chest. “Agreed.”
“Ready for another confession?”
The rapid beats inside her chest slowed to one hard thunk. “Is it going to ruin my afterglow?”
“Undecided.”
“Maybe you should wait—”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Lena’s mind blanked. It was as if a stranger had smacked her upside the head and she spent the next several seconds trying to figure out what she’d said to offend them.
Slowly, she sat up, allowing the sheet to spool around her waist. “Rohan, I—” Words. She had no words.
He flinched. “Looks like I need a reset button.” He moved to get out of bed, but Lena caught his arm.
“No, wait.” She swallowed, not sure what to say, but knowing the absolute worst thing she could do was allow him to leave her bed. “I—you caught me off guard. I expected more bad news or intrusive questions. Not—”
“A confession of love,” he prompted, with a sad smile.
“You have to admit, our relationship hasn’t exactly been normal.”
“Neither of us could be labeled normal.” The backs of his fingers trailed along the inside of her arm. “Why would you expect falling in love to be anything but unique?”
Lena felt as if two winch hooks had latched onto her heart and a set of enormous chains began drawing the thick irons in opposite directions.
A part of her wanted to turn into him and let her body convey all the newfound feelings bubbling inside her. But another part of her wanted to grab her bag and run for the highest mountaintop.
People who loved her died. Not just any old death, but violent ones.
And Lena knew, to the ends of her soul, that if she lost Rohan in the same manner, it would annihilate her.
There would be no coming back from such a loss.
He must have sensed her conflict, for he kissed her forehead, strode into the bathroom, and closed the door with a soft click.
It was the click that did her in. The firm finality that she’d ruined one of the most precious moments of her life.
She rolled to her side, buried her face in her pillow, and wept.
58
Rohan flipped open his laptop and used the bath towel draped around his neck to swipe away the bead of water that splattered onto Lena’s island countertop.
He slid the towel over his wet hair and did his damnedest to ignore the scent of Lena’s shampoo as it wafted past his nose. He glanced over at the bed, where she lay in a fitful sleep. The urge to go to her and banish whatever demons visited her dreams was strong.
But the fifteen feet of distance separating them seemed like an Indiana Jones brand of quicksand. One wrong step, and he’d be eyes-deep in trouble.
He’d said the words. Words he’d never expected to utter to a woman, and she’d stared at him with an expression that a long, hot shower hadn’t been able to clarify.
Whatever she’d been feeling, she hadn’t returned the sentiment, and that hurt like a motherfucker.
His phone dinged and Rohan realized he’d been staring at the laptop’s login screen. After tapping in his ten-digit passcode, he picked up his phone to see who’d texted him.
Ash: Get my email? I got the goods on your girl. Brace yourself.
Goods?
Rohan checked his computer’s clock.
9:22 p.m.
His workaholic brother must have capped off a long day of cold case investigating with a celebratory bourbon or two or three.
Setting his phone down, he brought up his email app.
Ash’s name stood out in bold letters at the top of the page.
His pulse thundered in his ears. Since Atlanta, he’d been feeding his brother information on Lena’s various identities, trying to piece together who he was slowly falling in love with.
He’d sent his most recent update after Lena’s breakthrough Saturday night. In hindsight, he should have let her know then that he was looking into her background. But he’d been in get-it-done mode and sent the text off without a second’s thought.
What had started out as his duty to protect his family from this mysterious, unknown woman had evolved into a profound desire to help her discover what really happened that fateful night and track down Anjali Kumar’s family.
If anyone could help fill in the blanks on Lena’s birth family, it was special agent Asher Cameron Blackwell. Missing persons might not be his brother’s specialty, but Rohan knew Ash had used every resource at his disposal and pulled every favor he had at the Bureau for this one.
Partly because who wouldn’t want to help right such a terrible wrong. But mostly because his perceptive brother had divined how important Lena was to Rohan.
He fully expected his older brother’s email to be riddled with his signature grumbles and admonishments and cautions, but that was par for the course. Ash simply couldn’t shut down the big brother chip.
Rohan’s finger hovered over the laptop’s touchpad. A strange uncertainty filled his chest and pushed into his stomach. His gaze shifted to Lena’s sleeping form.
Should he wake her? Get her permission to delve into her past?
But what if Ash had sent information they had already uncovered? Why get her hopes up unnecessarily? Or worse, what if he’d found something even more soul-destroying?
She had suffered so much already. Adding another blow seemed cruel.
He couldn’t do that to her. A quick read of Ash’s findings would tell him if he should wake her or not.
Decision made, he clicked on the email, read Ash’s intro about the attached document being self-explanatory, and opened the PDF file.
Seconds later, an alarm on his computer blared out a warning.
Then all hell broke loose.
59
Lena bolted upright in bed at the sound of an alarm that would do a prison breakout justice.
It took an extra second to pry her gritty, tear-stained eyes apart. When her vision cleared, she found no rioting prisoners, no swiveling spotlights. Just Rohan’s shocked face illuminated by the glow of his laptop’s screen.
Before she could ask what was going on, his expression changed to one of fury. On an epic, multiverse scale.
“Fucking bastards.”
His fingers flew across the keyboard. She’d been around computer users her entire life and had never seen anyone type so fast.
She got out of bed and slipped on the clothes she’d been wearing earlier. Before she’d had the best sexual experience of her life—and then ruined one of the most precious moments when she snubbed Rohan’s declaration.
A new set of tears burned her eyes. She pushed Sobby Lena away. Based on Rohan’s reaction to his computer’s alarm, now was not the time to address her stupidity. She’d serve that up to him later on a dessert platter.
After securing her hair in a sloppy bun at the back of her head, she laid a hand on his bare shoulder. His skin was cool, but the muscles beneath felt like they’d been forged from molten steel.
He didn’t acknowledge her touch. His entire focus was on the gibberish flashing across his screen.
“The Collective?” she asked.
His head jerked in acknowledgment.
“What are they attempting?”
In answer, his jaw tightened, and he appeared to redouble his efforts on the keyboard.
His phone vibrated on the counter, and she glanced at the screen.
Zeke.
Rohan mouth firmed into a thin line before he slashed a finger across the Accept button. “Cruz and I are on it.”
“Yeah, he just flew by my office in his underwear, saying something about a serious breach,” Zeke said. “Talk to me.”
“Are you with Cruz?”
“Hold on.” Three seconds passed. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”
“This could be scareware,” Rohan said, his fingers not missing a beat. “Check the file extensions.”
Cruz said, “Copy that.”
Lena could hear violent keyboard tapping on the other end.
“Where are you?” Zeke asked.
Rohan winced. “Lena’s.”
An ocean’s deep silence followed. Then Cruz said, “It’s not scareware. The files are switching over to crypt extensions.”
Rohan’s computer stopped responding.
“Sonofbitch!” he roared, pushing off his barstool and sending it clattering across the floor. “I’m dead in the water. Take the server offline. Lock down the network. Do whatever you have to do to stop the spread. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Copy.”
Lena could hear the strain in Cruz’s voice and the bionic key tapping in the background.
Rohan stomped away and grabbed a wrinkled shirt from the floor by the bed.
Lena watched him with a wary eye while she spoke to the men on the phone. “Zeke, what’s happened?”
“All I can give you is the footnote version.”
“That’s more than I have right now.”
“A hacker has taken control of our proprietary database—our company’s lifeblood—and is now demanding a ransom.”
“There’s no way around this?”
“The files have been encrypted, and the hacker is the only one who has the key.”
“There’s no way to decrypt the files?”
