I circled his cock with one hand, my free hand caressing his balls, and then my tongue darted out, dragging along the underside, tasting him from base to tip.

He groaned again, his hips canting toward me, and a rush of arousal pulsed between my legs.

This, too, felt familiar—the taste of him, shape of him.

I circled my tongue around the head of his cock, each lick sending another shudder through him, his body jerking against my touch. I parted my lips, wanting all of him. He thrust inside, his head falling back, his hands at his sides clenched into fists as I sucked him deep.

He was so beautiful; he had a warrior’s build, all of his scars the sign of a man who had been through hell and survived. He had a different kind of strength, the kind that came from life tossing him about and beating him down. I didn’t care what he’d done or who he’d become to get to this moment. All that mattered was that he was here now.

My hands came up to Matt’s hips, resting on either side as I steadied myself, using my mouth to bring him closer and closer to pleasure. His fingers dug into my scalp, pulling my hair as he tilted my head back with one hand, changing the angle, thrusting deeper.

My jaw ached, mouth swollen, the cheap carpet rubbing my knees, the bite of his fingers adding to the sensations flooding me as he fucked my mouth.

I’d never been more turned on in my life.

I looked up, our gazes locking, the savage expression I found there—like he’d lost a piece of himself somewhere along the way and found it inside of me—shattering me. His free hand clasped mine, pressing our palms together, fingers linked, holding on tight while he came, while the tension drained from his body, and I gave him some semblance of peace.

Chapter Fifteen

More details continue to emerge about the brutal slaying of James Ryan. His death appears to be the work of a home invasion with a deadly end …

—Capital Confessions blog

Matt

I sat on the edge of the bed, cleaning my gun, watching while Kate dressed for dinner with her parents—and for breaking into her father’s office.

In the past few years, there had been plenty of times when I’d been afraid, overcome with the sensation that some bad shit was about to go down, my hard-won survival instincts going into overdrive. I’d never experienced anything like the fear I felt now at the thought of sending her into the lion’s den. After what had happened to my father, I clung to the hope that she was still safe, still alive, because for all of his depravity, her father harbored some affection for her. Too much to actually kill her. It was a lot to hinge everything on, but right now I wasn’t sure I had much of a choice.

Kate came out of the bathroom, her hair in loose curls, wearing a blue and white striped dress that reminded me of something she would have worn when she was younger, trying to please her parents. She definitely had the part of prodigal daughter down, and it hit me that as much as I’d been playing a role over the years, so had she.

“You know, it’s not too late to take a gun. We could figure out a holster for it. They wouldn’t even know that it’s there.”

We’d spent time at the shooting range, but she’d been too uncomfortable to take a gun with her tonight; at least she would have it in her apartment in case she needed it. Considering I didn’t think I’d breathe easy unless she was in a fucking panic room, it wasn’t much of a consolation.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

In the last ten minutes, she’d started pacing back and forth, her short strides little bursts of nervous energy as she muttered to herself under her breath.

“Freaked out. Mentally steeling myself for a draining dinner. I don’t know how I’m going to look him in the face when I know what he’s done. How I’m supposed to pretend everything is normal. I’m afraid he’ll see through it immediately and all of this will blow up in our faces.”

I was afraid she’d push him too far, that if she got too close, threatened his power too much, he wouldn’t be afraid to make her another casualty in a long list of them. I was scared shitless.

“You know they’ll talk about what happened to your father,” Kate added.

“They will.”

Especially if her father was suspicious about her sudden reappearance in their life and wanted to test her loyalty. I took a deep breath, trying to prep her as I would anyone going into a mission, not wanting to let the emotions raging inside me cloud our goals. Fucking impossible.

“Look, the best lies are grounded in truth. He was my father. You were engaged to me. People will understand if you’re shaken up about it, if it dredged up old memories of my death. So if you get uncomfortable, just channel that and sell it. It’ll give you an excuse if you clam up or can’t handle it. Just stick with your instincts and what feels natural.”

She nodded, flattening her palms over her dress, tucking her hands into the pockets on each side. “You’re right. That’s good advice. I can definitely use that.”

“I’m more worried about you getting into his office.”

“Me too.”

“Remember what we talked about—if it feels too dangerous, if you think there’s a chance that you could get caught, don’t risk it. It’s not worth it.”

She nodded, a gesture that was entirely too capitulating to be believable. She was determined to see this through and nothing I could do was going to stop her.

I handed Kate the panic button, wishing I were going with her, the thin line of communication between us not nearly enough.

She slipped it into the pocket on the side of her dress.

I swallowed past the giant lump in my throat, offering a silent prayer that she would be cautious and refrain from taking risks with her life.

“If you need anything when you’re in there, if you get scared at all, you press that and I will come for you.”

I had not given up the use of a gun and had armed the shit out of myself. I had no qualms about taking out her father if it meant keeping her safe.

I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward me, the same feeling that this would not end well that had been plaguing me for days now bubbling up to the surface.

“Promise me that you won’t take any risks. At the first sign of danger, you’re out of there.”

She nodded.

There were too many pieces moving around, too many contingencies, too many fucking stars that needed to align in order to make this happen. And if her father was so paranoid that he’d had my father killed to cover his tracks, then it made sense that he would have disposed of any incriminating information. But we were running out of opportunities to gather proof, and the security was way too tight to get into the house unless we took advantage of this opportunity.

And still, it felt like a bad fucking idea.

Kate

All it took was me stepping over the threshold, and suddenly the urge to flee nearly overpowered me. I’d forgotten how much I hated this house, how my happy memories here were few and far between. It had never been a home; there had never been anything real here. Everything had been about pretense and image, our entire family clay to be molded for my father’s political career. A house built on the blood and bones of all the people he’d stepped over to get ahead.

My fingers curved around the little button in my pocket, careful to keep from pressing it, but reassured by its presence, by the knowledge that Matt was close by.

I exchanged air kisses with my mother, clung to every shred of self-restraint to keep from shuddering as my father hugged me. My parents’ friends, the Brysons, were nice enough, their son, Michael, the kind of preppy that somehow came across as perpetually smug. It was only Wednesday and it had already been a long week, the prospect of dinner having filled me with dread all day at work.