I lie halfway on top of her, and hold her tight as I fall asleep.
“You’re going to sleep on top of me?” she asks, but I hear the smile in her voice.
“It keeps you from sneaking out in the middle of the night,” I mumble into her hair.
“You know this is my house, right?” she says on a yawn.
“If you knew how many times I marked this place, you wouldn’t be saying that.”
I hear her hum a questioning sound, but we both find sleep before I can answer.
CHAPTER FIVE
CAS
Warm fingers trace the scars lining my back, followed next by a soft mouth. Sweet kisses touch each of my picked wounds, making my heart squeeze inside my chest.
“You get these in the Air Force?” he asks, reminding me that he knows way more about me than I do him.
“No,” I answer honestly. Normally people don’t see my scars. Most of my sex is quick and fast, not even taking all my clothes off sometimes. Now I’m lying naked in my bed, with a man that will barely give me an inch of space.
I feel his body lock around mine at my words.
“I’m guessing that folder you got on me doesn’t have all the details of my life.”
“You get them while doing club shit?”
“Club shit?” I snap, giving a bite to my words and letting him know he’d better watch his step.
“Just answer me, Mackenzie,” he says, placing another kiss on one of my scars. His mouth eases my tension. He’s worried.
“No. Not from there either.”
“You going to make me drag it out of you?” he asks, running his tongue along another scar, making me moan. I’m learning this is his game. He likes to tease my body until I tell him what he wants to hear. It should piss me off that he can do that, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t love it. My body craves him like it never has anyone else before. I find myself allowing him liberties I’ve never allowed another soul.
“I got them before I was in the Air Force.”
“But you were eighteen when you enlisted.”
“I was,” I confirm, letting him see a part of myself that few others know about.
“Oh, Mackenzie.” He breathes against my back, peppering kisses up my spine, and letting me know that my scars make no difference to how he feels about me. That he isn’t disgusted by them. He may change his mind if he finds out what I did because of those scars. He could recoil at the ugliness I’ve been party to. It’s a bitter reminder that what I have here with him isn’t real. That I’m here to find out what he knows about me, and even if he denies it, he’s probably here to close his case.
“Give it to me,” he says like it will come so easily. That it’s his right to have.
“I can’t give you anything. I don’t trust you. I can’t trust you to wear a fucking condom.”
Instantly I’m on my back with him hovering over me, his intense gray eyes staring into mine. “Cut that shit, Mackenzie. I told you this isn’t a game. I want you. Fuck the case.” He leans into me so we’re nose to nose, “As for the condoms, you better get used to the lack thereof, because that won’t be changing. Stop trying to wiggle away from me. Having you without a condom, my cum filling your hot little cunt, reminds you there’s no getting distance from me. You’re mine.”
My whole body goes on alert at his words, making my heart rate pound like I’m on a mission. It would be exciting if it didn’t scare the shit out of me. Vincent could leave behind a whole different type of scar. The kind that could shatter me from the inside out. It’s hard to believe what he’s saying,
Pres gave me the rundown on him before I left the club. He is a decorated FBI agent who quickly moved up the ranks. Driven, will stop at nothing to get what he wants. The question was did he want me or the case more?
The idea that I could come before anything else with him tastes so sweet that I push the idea away. I’ve never come first for anyone in my life before. Even with my brothers, the club comes first, but Vincent makes it seem like I would come before everything.
It’s like I’m two totally different people. One wants to surrender to Vincent and believe his words. He looks at me like I’m his everything, that he will do anything for me, and it’s intoxicating. I’ve never had anyone look at me like that before.
The other part of me knows this is too good to be true. That a decorated FBI agent won’t turn a blind eye to the things I’ve done. The things I would do. Will he try and change me? It wasn't twelve hours ago I offered to kill a dozen men. Vincent or not, that offer still stands.
Closing my eyes doesn't help the barrage of feelings that assault me, because I can still smell him. The faint scent of his body mixed with our sex is heady. It’s a smell that will forever be imprinted on my brain.