Taking Control Page 4

  She’d always suspected as much. “What would have been the point? You’d made your feelings—or lack of them—perfectly clear.”

  He turned away and strolled across the room. “You want a drink? I need a drink.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Not often you get shot one day and faced with a specter from the past the next.”

  “A specter?”

  He stopped in front of a cabinet, opened it, and examined the contents. After pulling out two shot glasses, he poured a measure of scotch into both, then headed to the sofa, placing the glasses down on the coffee table. He picked up one and tossed the amber liquid down in one go. He strode back and picked up the bottle, brought it with him this time and topped off his glass. “Well?”

  “Should you be drinking and taking medication? Not very sensible.”

  He studied her, head cocked to one side. “Since when did you get sensible?”

  “When I joined the army. It was a painful process.”

  “I’ll bet.” Something flickered in his silver eyes. “I’m still trying to come to terms with the idea of you in uniform. I’m not sure whether it terrifies me or turns me on. Actually, I take that back…”

  “It terrifies you?”

  “You wish.” He waved a hand at the sofa. “Sit down, and you can try and persuade me into those bodyguards while you have your drink.”

  What the hell? She’d already decided she wasn’t going back to the office that afternoon. She’d put in so much overtime in the last couple of months, she deserved an afternoon off. And she still needed to do what she had come here for. Prove he was out of her system and move on. Oh, and be nice.

  She’d never been one for self-delusion, but as she edged around him and perched in the corner of the sofa, she had the strangest feeling that she was doing just that. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around the glass then brought it to her lips. They’d drunk a lot of scotch together; it had been her drink of choice at seventeen. Declan’s kisses had often tasted of scotch, expensive malt he’d filched from his dad’s personal supply.

  She hadn’t touched scotch since, and now as the warm liquid flooded her mouth it brought back memories of those kisses. Sweet and hot and…better forgotten.

  He was still standing. Jess frowned up at him, and he came around and sank down onto the sofa beside her. So close, she could feel the heat of his big body.

  The scotch was warming her inside now. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up and move.

  Declan settled back in the seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He sipped his second drink in what should have been companionable silence, but in fact the air thrummed with tension and she was totally aware of his body so close to hers.

  She tried to tell herself that this was normal. “This” being the hot, heavy heat between her thighs. She had a past with this man. She’d had the most amazing multiple orgasms with him. It was obvious that being this close to him was going to make her think about sex. She was a normal woman—though a lot of people might laugh at that—and this was a normal woman’s reaction.

  Well, a normal, frustrated woman’s reaction.

  How long was it since she’d had a man? In the early years she’d tried a few times, picked up some stranger, gone home with him. The sex had been okay, but had never lived up to what she’d had before, and the whole experience had felt tainted, not right, and she’d given up in the end. There had been no one since she left the army. That was over five years. And in that time she’d made do with her vibrator and believed she’d never missed sex. Yeah, definitely deluded.

  She cast him a swift sideways peek. He was watching her out of heavy-lidded eyes. He caught her glance and slowly raised his glass.

  “To old times.”

  Then he gently placed the glass on the table and reached for her.

  Chapter Four

  No way.

  Jess slammed her glass down on the table beside his, the scotch sloshing over her fingers. She jumped to her feet as his hand touched her arm and then put the sofa between them. Declan turned to look at her and something glinted in his eyes. Amusement maybe.

  She gritted her teeth. Did the bastard find her funny?

  Much as she really wanted to make some cutting remark, she decided that just this once, she was going to keep her mouth firmly closed and make a dignified retreat. A fast, dignified retreat. She backed away a few steps as he pushed himself to his feet.

  “Going somewhere?” he murmured.

  She licked her lips. His eyes followed the movement and something hot and dark settled in her stomach. She cleared her throat. “Well, this has been nice. Old times and all that, but I must get back to the office.”

  “But you haven’t convinced me I need protecting, yet.”

  “You haven’t convinced me you’re worth protecting,” she snapped.

  His lips twitched at the corners, and she got the distinct impression he liked her loss of control. “Good to see the old Jess is still there.”

  Why the hell would he think that was good? He’d run a mile—thousands of miles actually—from the old Jess. “No, she’s not.” She whirled around and stalked for the door.

  She could sense him watching her. Expected him to try to stop her. But of course he didn’t.

  As his office door closed behind her for a second time, she heaved a sigh of… Actually, she wasn’t sure what it was a sigh of. Hopefully relief, but she suspected disappointment. What had she wanted to happen in there? She was supposed to be proving to herself that she didn’t care, that she was ready to move on, that he meant nothing to her. Instead, her skin felt sensitive, her nipples were tight, and she was uncomfortably aware of the moist heat soaking her panties. And he hadn’t even touched her.

  She’d forgotten what desire felt like. A craving in the blood. A deep need to sink into sensation and never come up for air.

  Someone cleared their throat. Declan’s assistant was studying her from behind his desk. He looked amused as well. Christ, she was a laugh a minute today.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Do you need another appointment?”

  “No. I won’t be coming back.” She said it more for her benefit than his. She’d just have to find another way to persuade Jake she could do his job. Keeping her pace slow and controlled, she crossed to the elevator. She didn’t want to look rattled. All the same, she couldn’t stop the nervous tap of her boot against the carpet as she waited, totally aware of the doors behind her. She didn’t turn as she heard them open.

  “Come on,” she muttered to the elevator. She huffed out a breath of relief as the doors finally slid open. Stepping inside, she stabbed her finger on the down button. The doors were closing as Declan stopped them with a hand. He stepped in beside her, filling the small space, and the doors closed, sealing them in together.

  Her stomach lurched as they started to descend. She took a deep breath. No time to be a wimp. “Was there something else you wanted?”

  “Oh yeah.” The low, husky tone sent shivers through her. Her gaze flashed to his face, but his expression was blank.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and attempted a bored expression. “And that would be?”

  “I want to know why you came here today. I had no clue, but you were expecting me. So why did you come?”

  “Why not? You were just another job.”

  “Don’t lie. And why come back a second time…Why do you care if I take the protection or not?”

  Maybe it was time to inject a little truth. “I’m in line for a promotion. My boss said if I impress you, I get the job.”

  “Impress me?”

  “Yeah, you know…be nice.” She shrugged. “He reckons I have an attitude problem.”

  “Really?” His lips quirked. They were facing each other now. His gaze ran over her, and she had to hold herself still to prevent a little squirm, and then his eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with her.

  She shrugged
again. “But don’t worry. If you’re determined not to accept the bodyguards, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He took a step toward her, filling her personal space. “You don’t want to…try a little harder to persuade me?”

  The door opened and two men made to enter. Declan turned his head. “Don’t even think about it,” he said quietly, and the men backed away and the doors closed once more. “Where were we?”

  “I was on my way out?”

  He tossed her a glance and then pressed the elevator button. They started to rise.

  “What the fuck?” she muttered.

  “Just a little experiment. Come on, Jess, where’s your sense of adventure?”

  His hand reached out, then slipped around the back of her neck. He tilted her head so she had no choice but to look into his face. Actually, she did have a choice; she had a gun, and she could shoot him. Instead, she held herself very still as he lowered his face to hers. Maybe this was what she needed to prove once and for all that she was over him. Or maybe she was a self-deluding idiot with no sense of self-preservation who just wanted a snog.

  His lips were warm and firm and his tongue tasted of scotch, the flavor intoxicating, as he pushed inside, filling her. His kiss deepened, hot and wet and hard. One hand was still at her nape, the other wrapped around her, cupping her ass, pulling her against his hard length so she was aware of him against her breasts, her belly, her hips. Heat shot through her, thrills shivering along her nerves, pooling in her sex, taking her back to those long ago days, when she’d loved him and he’d taken everything she had to give and then dumped her when daddy told him to.

  How dare he? How the hell fucking dare he kiss her? And not just kiss her, but kiss her like he fucking cared. Like she was the only woman in the goddamn world. He had always made her feel like that. No other man had come close.

  And she hated it. She could feel herself spiraling out of control, the old feelings building inside her. All mixed in with an almost overwhelming need, to have him inside her just one more time. Have that hard body on her, in her.

  They were almost glued together, and she shoved her hands between them, pushing hard. When he still didn’t budge, she bit down on his lower lip, then placed her fingers around his upper arm and squeezed the exact spot he’d taken a bullet.

  “Ouch.” Raising his head, he loosened his grip and stepped back. His eyes were narrowed and a tic jumped in his cheek. He wasn’t as cool as he was pretending. “You always did like it rough,” he murmured.

  “Fuck off, Declan.”

  His gaze dropped to her body. She acted instinctively and peered down; her nipples were tight little peaks. He smirked. “You’re definitely getting…nicer. I might even be persuaded to put a good word in with your boss.”

  “Thanks, but don’t put yourself out.” Jess gritted her teeth. Had he always been this annoying? “Actually, there is another reason I came back.”

  “There is?”

  “Hmm.” She copied his actions and allowed her gaze to drop down over his body, God he was gorgeous. Why did he have to be the most gorgeous man she had ever encountered? “You know I hate you, Declan. I’ve hated you for a long time. Too long.”

  He swiped his tongue across his lower lip. “Baby girl, I love the way you hate.”

  “Don’t call me that.” She’d always hated the way he called her baby girl. She was only a year younger than him. “And hating you is pointless, and I’ve wasted too much time on it. So yeah, I came today, thought I’d take a look, remind myself of what an arrogant prick you are, and then I’d wipe you from my mind and move on.” She stepped up closer and prodded him in the chest. He was like iron. “And guess what, Declan? You’re an arrogant prick.”

  “So you want to move on?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to find me a nice man.”

  He laughed. He actually laughed at her, and her palm itched with the need to reach for her gun. “Baby girl, you wouldn’t know what to do with a nice man. And he sure as hell wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

  “And you do, I suppose?” She knew the words were a mistake as soon as they escaped from her mouth.

  “Oh yeah.”

  Heat coiled in her belly, and she swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. They were no longer moving. The lift had come to a halt at Declan’s floor. But the doors remained closed.

  “Come back with me, Jess.” He leaned in close and kissed the side of her neck and heat in her belly sank lower. He licked her pulse point with the tip of his tongue and she swayed. “Come on, Jess.” The words whispered across her skin. “You know you want to. One last time, just to remind you of how awful it was…boring and messy and then we can both move on.”

  The desire was building. Maybe this is what she needed. One last time. She’d never trust him again, never allow herself to care for him, risk any of her feelings. But this wasn’t about feelings; this was about shagging. At the thought, her sex clenched tight.

  God, she wanted him.

  All of him. Then she wanted to walk away and never look back.

  He must have seen something in her face because a slow smile curled his lips and his eyes glittered.

  He pressed the button to open the door and then grabbed her hand, his fingers twining with hers as though he were still not sure she wouldn’t make a dash for it.

  Neither was she.

  She was working on autopilot; she’d shut down the parts of her brain that could actually think. Because deep down she was perfectly aware that this was a mistake of fucking awesome proportions.

  He dragged her out of the elevator and across the office. His assistant was still behind the desk, but his mouth had fallen open.

  “Go home,” Declan said. “You’re finished for the day.”

  He didn’t wait for any response, just continued to tug her across the carpeted floor and then through the big double doors into his office. The doors clicked shut behind them, and Declan turned and flicked the lock, then moved to face her.

  “Take off the gun.”

  She shook her head. “What?”

  “The gun, Jess. Take it off. You hate me, remember? I don’t want you tempted if I piss you off.”

  Her brows drew together. “And are you planning on pissing me off?”

  He grinned. “Well, it’s not on my immediate list, but from past experience I can’t rule it out.”

  Yeah, they’d always been volatile, had spent as much time arguing as they had making love.

  They were going to do this. She knew that. There was no turning back now—if he tried, she might very well hold him down and take him by force. Years of need were simmering beneath the surface. She had to have this.

  Keeping her eyes on him, she stripped off her jacket, strolled across the office, and laid it on a nearby chair. Then she slowly undid the buckles on the holster, slipped it from her shoulder, and gently rested it on top of the jacket.

  He was watching her, his gaze intent, fixed on her like a predator searching for weaknesses in its prey. He appeared outwardly calm, but she could sense the pent-up emotion beneath the surface waiting to explode. A strange primordial fear gripped her, and she held herself still as though she might set off some cataclysmic explosion with the wrong move.

  She tried to remind herself that he was a boring businessman who spent his whole life sitting behind a desk, but the description wouldn’t hold. He’d always had an almost savage masculine beauty, his face all harsh angles, sharp cheekbones, the hard line of his jaw, the fierce slash of his black brows.

  Her gaze dropped, snagging on the bulge at his groin. He wanted her.

  And she wanted him with a desperation that scared her witless. The last working cell in her brain screamed at her to run. But she wasn’t a coward. At the thought, that one functioning brain cell snorted in disgust. She was looking for any excuse to stay.

  But it was just sex. Sex didn’t have to mean anything. She’d proved that. Just not with this man. Yet.
But wasn’t that why she’d come here, to prove he was no different?

  She was overthinking. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.

  Their abandoned drinks were still on the table and she strode over, picked up her glass, and swallowed it in one go. She felt the scotch in her belly, stoking the flames. She slammed the glass down and picked up Declan’s, gulped that, and turned to face him.

  He quirked a brow but didn’t speak. Instead, he raised his hand and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it out of his pants, stripping it off, and dropping it to the floor. And she stood there like an idiot and stared. A white bandage crossed his shoulder breaking up the perfection of his olive skin. His chest was smooth, but beneath his navel, a line of dark hair disappeared into his pants.

  As she watched, he unbuckled the leather belt and flicked open the button on his pants.

  Holy shit.

  Sweat broke out on her palms, and she resisted the urge to wipe them down her sides. The alcohol was a buzz in her brain quieting the niggles of doubt. She placed the glass she was still gripping gently on the desk. If this was going to happen, she wanted it on her terms. She would decide.

  Her gaze snagged on the line of silky black hair running down his lean belly, disappearing… Yeah, it was going to happen.

  As she accepted that fact, a smile tugged at her mouth.

  Holy hell. She was going to have sex. With Declan. She was going to fuck his brains out and then this time, she would be the one to walk away.

  She stalked toward him, her gaze fixed on the bulge in his pants. It was huge, and it was all hers. For as long as she wanted. Which wouldn’t be very long. Because, while she might be deluded, she wasn’t a total idiot.

  …

  Somewhere in the last thirty seconds, she had reached a decision. Before that, he’d been in no way sure of her.

  Now she was coming for him.

  Fear twisted inside him. The sensation tightened his balls, sent blood pooling to his groin. She’d always been so passionate. Crazy passionate. The intensity of her feelings had woken needs inside him he’d spent his life controlling. Even at seventeen, she’d often been the one to initiate their lovemaking, teasing him, testing him, trying to push him over the edge.