Free Hostage Page 16

  But he also has a soft spot for me, and he’s concerned about my welfare. Therefore, he’s going to give me whatever information he thinks might help me keep my guard up.

  He sits on the edge of his bed, dips his chin, and looks straight at me. “I didn’t tell you this, all right?”

  “Got it.”

  “We’re not independent. We work on contracts. We don’t just get up one morning and decide we’re going to steal something. The Unseen don’t steal things just to have them. We get contracts, we get the job done, and we get paid. Some jobs are big, some are small. For some, Jaxon contracts only one of us, according to the nature of the job. You’ll notice the others kiss his ass a lot so that when two-man contracts are available, he will choose them. But I don’t do that. I piss him off more than I kiss his ass.”

  “Yet, more often than not,” I say, “he contracts you, not them.”

  Collin nods. “Kav is the muscle, he usually drives the getaway car. Jo’s computers and codes, cracks and hacks. Ed’s the engineer, the hands-on man, the one to smoothly break us in and give us safe passage. But Jaxon and I are the ones who actually go in…and risk getting caught. We deal with people face to face—we lie, charm, and convince.”

  I process this information with a frown. “So, where do—”

  “The contracts come from?” he finishes. “We don’t know.” He lifts a shoulder. “That’s why Jaxon’s the head. All the contracts come through him. All the exchanges are made through him.” Collin purses his lips. “There’s a woman, though. I’ve never met her. I think she’s his boss or something. Maybe? Because Jaxon has a ton of high-placed friends. He doesn’t talk. So I wouldn’t know. And frankly, the less I know, the better.”

  “Right,” I agree and decide to change the subject. Because I now realize he’s useless in terms of uncovering anything useful about Jaxon. Mel and I seem to know far more than his own team members do. “Are you staying in for the rest of the night or sleeping out?” I ask Collin.

  He lies back on the bed and stretches his arms over his head. His T-shirt rides up, exposing those yummy, defined lower abs. “Too tired. Nothing or no one can make me leave this bed right now. Hey.” He braces up on his elbows and jerks his chin toward the telly. “You got any idea what happened to my TV?”

  Oh. Right. That.

  Moving quickly toward the door, I answer apologetically, “Jaxon happened to it.”

  “Wait. Huh?”

  But I’m out of the room and skipping down the stairs before he can demand an explanation.

  I walk into the kitchen and find Jaxon removing a plate with two slices of presumably vegan pizza from the microwave.

  He turns with the plate and sees me standing in the archway. He scans me, searching. For what? A sexual flush? Evidence I was getting it on with Collin?

  Jaxon places the plate next to an already poured glass of OJ sitting on the table and pulls out a chair. A silent order to come over and sit down.

  I go. I sit. I set my purses aside.

  The pizza looks delicious, with toppings of avocado, eggplant, tomato, corn, onion, sweet peppers, and spinach. Anything with avocado is guaranteed deliciousness. Even if it is vegan.

  I pick up a slice.

  Jaxon’s irritated voice comes at me from behind. “Collin had your purse all this time?”

  Just as I thought. Jaxon didn’t confiscate my purse. Collin scooped it up and kept it to himself. Will he be in trouble?

  I bite into the pizza. Yep, delicious. “No,” I lie. “I forgot it in his room last night when I was relocating to yours.”

  The quietude that follows lasts for as long as it takes me to finish my first slice of pizza. Unnerved by the weight of his silence and the heat of his presence behind me, I tip my head backward so I can look up at him.

  His arms are crossed, and he’s frowning. “You love him?”

  A nervous laugh escapes me. “Am I a plonker? What on earth would make you think that?”

  “You just lied for him.”

  With a swallow, I turn so he isn’t upside down and look him straight in the eye. “I didn’t lie.”

  That’s right, Melanie’s not the only one who can be undaunted. On a sexual, lustful level, I’m terrified of him. But otherwise, I can play, too.

  His steady gaze bears down on me. He knows I’m lying, of course. But I don’t blink.

  He breaks first, mumbling, “Enjoy the pizza,” and leaves the room.

  Win win win! I can’t let him intimidate me all the time. I have to show him I’m not a weakling. He’s not the only one who gets to lie. And he can’t make me admit to a damned thing unless I want to.

  Melanie strolls into the kitchen. “Were you really out with that slutty bloke?”

  “His name is Collin.” I bite into my second slice of pizza.

  Waving me off, she goes to the fridge and grabs two bottles of water. “So, you were with him, yeah?”

  With one finger, I gesture around the room to remind her of the bugs and mouth, “Brooklyn.”

  She nods in understanding and mouths back, “Monty?”

  I give her a thumbs up.

  “Well, anyway,” she says audibly, “Jo’s mad at me because of you. She thinks we’re plotting something.”

  I snort. “Like what? Usurp their King Jaxon?” I say through a fake laugh. This I want him to hear.

  “The only thing I want to do to their precious king is to bend him over and rip that thick stick out of his tight arse,” she mutters.

  I’m cackling now. “It’s really far up there, isn’t it?”

  “Well and good.” She starts out of the kitchen. “Anyway. I’m off to barge my way back into Jo’s good graces. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to sleep with you and Lord Jaxon or, God forbid, Mr. Sex Incarnate with the white hair.” She gives a delicate shudder and I grin.

  Once I’m done with my meal, I dump the dishes in the sink and make off to Jaxon’s room.

  The shower’s running. Black silk pajama pants are laid out on the bed.

  After putting my purses away, I get out a silk nightgown with matching knickers and lay them on the bed. Next to the silk pajama pants.

  The sight of my silks next to his makes me blush from head to toe. But a small part of me likes the boldness of it.

  Why did I do it? What message am I sending?

  Nervousness makes me snatch them back up…and put them back…and snatch them up again.

  Gah! A part of me can’t help but wonder what will go through his mind when he sees the sweet nighttime scenario laid out so graphically.

  Hearing the shower turn off, I quickly lay them down again and jump away before I can change my mind.

  I’m knotting my hair on top of my head when he appears in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped low around his waist, his wet hair laid in limp curls.

  My hands pause on top of my head as annoying tingles whizz through me. He’s so tall. So gorgeous. So glorious. And those bedroom eyes…

  I can think of nothing else except what it would feel like to be pressed up against him, bare, skin to skin.

  I drop my hands to my sides, causing the unfinished knot to tumble down my shoulders. I swallow.

  His eyes on me, he takes a step to the side, letting me know the bathroom is all mine.

  I don’t move. I’m afraid my knees will buckle if I try. I feel him, all over, and he’s not even touching me.

  “Shower?” he prompts.

  Yes. Right. Shower.

  I take a test step. I don’t fall, so I figure it’s safe to move. Taking quicker steps past him into the bathroom, I close the door behind me. I feel like a coward to turn the lock, but I’m not brave enough to leave it open.

  My shower is deliberately long. And hot. If I were as smart as I tell myself I am, I would’ve made this shower a cold one to chase off all the feels I’m harboring for the king of cons. Instead, I choose to keep these feels and unfamiliar sensations. And prolong them…

  Under the hot shower, away
from his soul-stripping stare, I’m allowed to open up and feel.

  Imagine.

  Fantasize.

  Dream.

  For the first time ever, I wish I had taken Melanie’s advice and gotten some experience, explored my sexuality.

  “Do you really feel comfortable not knowing something, Tim?” she’d asked me again and again. “Come with me. Do it. Just to know what it’s like.”

  Nothing about exploring my sexuality had interested me. I told her empirical knowledge on coitus is one thing I’m perfectly content with not knowing.

  She, on the other hand, hooks up with anyone she develops a profound attraction toward. Both sexes. After much explorative research, she concluded she’s attracted to people in general, their minds and intelligence, regardless of gender. She doesn’t, however, encourage relationships of attachment, as there’s too much left in the world to be discovered.

  Now, as my body aches for the liar on the other side of the door, I regret never going along with her on her explorative research expeditions.

  Some of the effects are easy—the change in heartbeat, the tightening of my nipples, the aridity of my mouth, the throbbing between my thighs. Whenever these things happen, I know I’m aroused.

  But, I wish I knew more. I wish I knew how to seduce the liar. I wish I knew how to seduce myself. I wish…

  I wish I weren’t a virgin.

  Because I’m now at a distinct sexual disadvantage, because he’s so advanced and experienced and jaded.

  In all else, I can go toe to toe and match up to him. Outdo and outsmart him.

  But not this.

  Not. This.

  Jaxon is sitting on the bed watching the telly, a small bowl with tangerine slices and grapes in one hand, when I finally come out of the bathroom.

  He doesn’t look in my direction.

  There’s nothing but a towel wrapped around me as I sidle up to the bed to fetch my nightgown and knickers. Somehow, they’re farther down on the bed, closer to the edge than where I left them. Also, he’s half sitting on the knickers.

  I snatch up my nightgown and try to get the panties. Tug, tug.

  He ignores me, his attention fixed on the telly as he pops a tangerine into his mouth.

  Tug, tug.

  He doesn’t budge. If I tug any harder, the material might rip.

  “Jaxon.”

  He hums, “Hmm?”

  “Do you mind?” I tug again.

  Leisurely, he turns his head to me, then glances down to where my hand is tugging. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t see that there.” He says this with so much conviction I could’ve easily believed it to be true, had I not known he’s such a manipulative liar.

  When he shifts to one side, I grab them up and lock myself in the closet to get dressed. I hesitate before I put them on. Did he examine them closely? Sniff them? Rub them all over himself? Or did he just laugh at my pathetic attempt to be risqué?

  Tonight’s nightgown is no more conservative than last night’s, but I’m hating it less because I actually want Jaxon to look at me this time. That he knows I’m wearing sexy lingerie gives me delicious tingles. His attention makes me feel beautiful.

  When I emerge from the closet he’s no longer in the room.

  I’m half disappointed, half relieved.

  Grabbing the TV remote, I power down the volume and climb in bed. I’m more than a little wiped from today’s events, so it doesn’t take me long to drift off.

  At some point during the night, I feel warmth—human-produced warmth. A solid, masculine body is pressed up against the back of me, chin on my shoulder, lips to my ear.

  It feels good.

  Damn, but it feels good.

  Still, I wasn’t kidding before when I said I do not like my sleep to be messed with. If I’m asleep, leave me be, or I can turn into a growling female dog in 2.5 seconds.

  I give an exasperated rumble and snap open my eyes.

  But before I can get a curse out, he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, “I’m stealing you from him.”

  I swallow the curse, relaxing in his hold. I feel like the Hope Diamond. So valuable and precious, that he wants…needs…has to steal me.

  My crush is a thief. And in this moment, I could not be more content with his occupation.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The following three months are eventful. Packed with trial missions, vegan food, and Jaxon muddling.

  My hand is held, my lips are kissed, and even my arse is sometimes groped whenever we’re out in public, because, according to Jaxon, we’re being watched and we have to sell our undying affection. Though, he’s yet to tell me who’s watching.

  On the trial missions, I find ways to go in with Melanie—against Jaxon’s orders not to. Good thing, too, because there’s always some missing information about the mission that would’ve been to her detriment. Melanie often picks fights with Jaxon afterward, but half the time she’s not even mad about his tricks. I think she just enjoys calling him names. I don’t really blame her.

  After each mission, depending on the time of the day, Jaxon takes me out, whether it’s to eat, or to an art exhibit, or for some chill, unpretentious live music. “For those watching,” he tells me.

  For those watching.

  And then, at night, he holds me in my sleep.

  Well, not every night. From time to time, sometimes for up to four days, Jaxon goes MIA. And whenever I ask where he disappears to, he just mumbles, “Business.”

  Perhaps he’s carrying out one-man jobs? Who knows? Or perhaps he’s just off spending time with his stunning Nadine. Although he promised to steal me from Collin, and although he kisses and gropes me in public, and although he takes me places and holds me at night, we aren’t together.

  Not together together.

  Not lovers. Not even cheaters. We’re just…muddled.

  At least, I am.

  I don’t tell him I want him. I don’t ask him to stop seeing his girlfriends. But I do continue to fake hook up with Collin. Turnabout’s fair play, right?

  In the days when Jaxon is MIA, I take the opportunity to sneak across the bridge to our place and work on my projects. Most times I share meals and have long talks with Monty, often trying to convince him to let me shave and give him a trim, which he always refuses with vehemence.

  I’ve also taken the opportunity to thoroughly search Jaxon’s room from the inside out for the box.

  Zilch. Nada. Nothing.

  Makes sense he wouldn’t keep such a treasure in his room, now that he has a questionable roommate. I figure it’s time Melanie and I have a meeting with Markus to see if he has a clue as to where Jaxon might be keeping the box.

  As for tonight, it’s movie night. We’ve not seen nor heard from Jaxon in a record-breaking six days. Collin has managed to convince me to go to the movies with him, along with Mel and Jo.

  “You look…very non-librarian-nerd-virgin, Tim-Tim,” Collin comments as I pluck my coat off the coat hook by the door and shrug it on.

  I shoot my fist out and punch his arm. “Shut up!”

  Flushed with embarrassment, I look around. Kavon is at work, and Eduardo has resigned and moved out a few weeks ago. But Melanie and Jo are lingering in the living room, both looking down at something on Jo’s phone, grinning and teasing each other like they’re the happiest humans in the world. Ugh.

  I growl at Collin, “I’m not a virgin.”

  Rubbing his arm where I punched him, he winks at me. “Sure you aren’t.”

  “I’m not,” I grit out.

  Arrogance curves his smirk as he pinches my chin with two fingers and tips my head back. “You might know facts, Nerd Girl, but I know sex. And what I know is that you’ve never had it.”

  I growl at him again, but he merely laughs and drops a chaste kiss to my lips.

  In that exact moment, the front door beeps open, and from the corner of my eye, I see Jaxon. And if I can see him, Collin can, too, but he doesn’t care. He just contin
ues gazing down at me with that stupid smirk on his face, my chin still seized between his fingers.

  Melanie and Jo walk over to get their coats.

  I jerk my chin from Collin’s grasp and turn stiffly toward the door. Toward Jaxon.

  He’s all in black—boots, jeans, T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Hair unkempt. Mysterious duffel bag in hand. Eyes mean.

  He looks bad. Dangerous. Wrong.

  And I…

  Damn. I like it.

  I cannot believe I like that look. Me!

  I’m damn near salivating.

  He steps across the threshold, and it’s as if I just participated in the ice bucket challenge. Because Nadine steps up behind him.

  And she, too, is wearing all black. Boots, leggings, tank top, leather jacket. And an attitude. Her hair is gelled up in a ponytail, and yes, like Jaxon, she looks bad, and dangerous, and mean. Such a stark contrast to the classy style she was rocking the first time I saw her.

  Are they so in love that they coordinate their outfits and moods, too?

  Jaxon zones in on me, but Nadine just looks impatient. “Where are you goons off to?” she asks.

  Collin throws an arm around my shoulder, but this time it’s not to piss off Jaxon, it’s to protect me. He knows how much I want Jaxon. He knows how I feel. He knows Jaxon has been muddling me big time. So, he knows the sight of those two will affect me.

  He’s a good friend. I’m keeping him.

  “Movies,” Jo supplies, sounding impatient. I don’t bother wondering what her tone’s about—something’s always up her arse.

  “Oh, well, enjoy,” Nadine says as she nudges Jaxon with her elbow, urging him to step aside so we can leave.

  He doesn’t move right away. He stands there, making sure the moment is as tense as he wants it to be. Making sure we inhale it and choke. Then he steps aside.

  As we walk out the door, I hear him stop Melanie and Jo, but Collin forces me to keep walking.

  “How do you feel right now?” he asks me.

  “I don’t know. Stupid?” I shrug, and his arm around me flops with the movement. “As in, I feel stupid for being affected by her,” I mutter. “I mean, it’s not like we’re together or anything. We’re probably more enemies than we are…whatever we are. So it shouldn’t bother me, right?”