I’m flipping the script here and going male on him. He’s good for two things now, and that includes sex and the chance to walk away from him just like he walked away from me years ago.
I want him, and I enjoy knowing that, for whatever reason, he wants me. Enough to sit outside my rented little house for weeks and watch my every move. Enough for Digg to have called me to let me know that Jace tried to have me investigated.
I also know a lot more about what’s going on with him and his brothers than they could ever imagine. For instance, that aunt of his is a real monster. And yes, I said is because I know all about what’s going on here.
It’s one of the reasons I am here. I’m not crazy enough to have traveled all the way here from DC just to tell them about some gossip I heard and nail Jace.
I have my own very convoluted agenda, and the main part of it all is to ensure that whatever goes down with that operation they’re investigating, goes well.
My job is to discover the military leak, and I’m going to do that the only way I know how. By using the people around me. Jace is my cover—my in, shall we say.
So I’m kissing Jace Lane for all I’m worth, wondering if I should just get back on this bike right now or if I should drag this out and make him work for it.
He’s managed to wiggle a hand into my panties and is going for gold.
It feels so good when the tips of his fingers graze over my clit. I tense and kiss him back with renewed passion.
“Trace, Jesus, you’re wet,” he growls after wrenching his mouth away to drag in deep breaths.
I hear the words clearly, snarled with so much lust and satisfaction that everything beneath my waist clenches and I’m teetering close to orgasm already.
Then I snap out of it and pull away, gathering my scattered wits with a groan and the knowledge that I have to stop. My body is raging with need and the unfulfilled longings of years’ worth of unsatisfied lust. Unlike Jace’s promiscuity following our days together, I never let another man touch me. Especially not Timothy.
I scramble out from under him and roll to my feet.
“What the hell are you doing here, Jace?”
The satisfaction I feel as he groans, gets to his feet, and is forced to adjust his crotch is short lived when he gives my body a slow once-over from beneath his lashes and smiles darkly.
“I think you know, Trace. Why else would you come back here?” he asks, following me out of the room when I grab my robe and stalk out.
I’m running, something I haven’t done in a long time, not after that first heartbreak and the promise I made to myself that I would never show my fear and pain again.
But I need to get out of the room and the intimate setting before I do something I’ll regret.
“Tracy.”
I stop at the mantle and turn to glare at him, shaking my head in amusement.
“You’re still the same arrogant asshole you were then, aren’t you? I came back because I missed Ronny and Paulie, and I wasn’t here for her when Lynn died.”
The lie burns a trail all the way to my gut, but I keep my face as schooled as I can when his expression hardens and his eyes narrow at me. No, Jace would not like that answer after what’s recently been going down with his other relatives, but like I said, I need a cover. The only way to get Jace to be mine is if he chooses to be on my back all the time.
I know this man, as well as he’ll let anyone know him, and if there’s one thing that motivates Jace, it’s a challenge. I just threw one out in the form of choosing his relatives over his delicate feelings, and I’m curious to see if he’ll react to it right away or do what he did years ago and just walk away.
Either way, I have an in. Him or Ronny, it doesn’t make a difference in the long run, though I really would prefer to deal with him in lieu of that viper Veronica Lane.
“You weren’t here because you don’t belong here, Tracy. Go back to DC and Daddy’s money and leave the rest of us to deal with the Lanes.”
“Calm down, Lane, I’m only staying long enough to spend some time with Ronny and Paulie while Daddy runs his campaign. I’ll be gone in a few weeks, at most,” I respond, hating that he’s throwing around orders when really, I’m the one in charge here.
“Don’t you have a life to live or is Daddy still keeping you in designer gear and lunch dates, princess?” he sneers, throwing the old insults right back at me.
The jibe hurts, a lot more than it should, and I find my old insecurities trying to rear their ugly heads while I struggle not to flinch and hurl the truth at him like a weapon.
“I do have a life, Lane, trust me, and I’ll get back to it as soon as I talk to Ronny and Paulie about being bridesmaids at my wedding. Now if that’s all you’ve come to say to me, you know where the door is. Use it.”