Page 25 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)

REAPER

W hen I arrived at the town house this morning, I was frantic to find Amaryllis wasn’t there.

Then, one thing led to another, and we got right on the road.

Which meant I hadn’t eaten since sometime yesterday.

I didn’t want to rush her, but if we didn’t eat soon, I’d probably have to run to the corner gas station and grab a candy bar.

We were putting the last of the photos in one of the two boxes we’d found in the basement—which unlike the attic, was scary—when she brought it up first. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” I admitted.

“There’s a pizza place not far from here. We could pick one up and take it with us.”

“Good by me, but we might have to order three.”

Her eyes scrunched. “Why so many?”

“Two for me, and one if you want any.”

“Beer would be good too,” she suggested.

“Agree. And dessert. And something for breakfast.”

“I guess you are starving.”

I didn’t bother telling her I didn’t remember when I’d last eaten. She’d been with me for the majority of the time.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask about the house. The pragmatist in me couldn’t understand why she’d hung onto it for as long as she had. The least she could’ve done was turn it into a rental.

Except it was the perfect example of how differently we looked at things.

When I said it didn’t make sense to let it sit empty, she’d said it wasn’t.

It was full of memories. When I mentioned how much the chair in the attic was probably worth, her response had been that it was priceless.

Everything with Amaryllis was about feelings.

It was something I’d learned early on, and it drove me crazy.

Now, though, I was beginning to understand it.

That’s what she had left—memories and feelings in the absence of people.

Last night, I’d left the town house to go see my mom and dad.

I’d needed them, even if it was only to tell me I was a jackass who also looked like hell.

If they hadn’t been in town, I’m not sure what I would’ve done. Maybe called. If not them, Blackjack.

Who did she have to call? Until seven months ago, maybe Mercury. The one person she might’ve been able to depend on had turned out not to be who she told Amaryllis she was.

“Ready?” she asked, coming out of the very purple bathroom.

“Not yet.”

“I thought you were starving.”

“I am, and right now, what I need the most is for you to be right here.” I pointed at the floor in front of me. “Closer,” I said when she was still a few inches away. I repeated it until our bodies touched. Then I put one arm around her waist.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“You gotta be more specific. Until you do, I’m going to keep doing whatever it is you think you’re telling me not to.”

She buried her face in my shoulder. “Being so nice to me.”

“Not ever gonna stop that.”

She pulled away. “I don’t believe you, and?—”

I pressed my lips to hers, and when I did, it was like the floodgates of our passion were thrown wide open.

Tongues and hands and torsos couldn’t get close enough.

I put my hands under her bottom, lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around me.

I moved us over to the hallway wall, pressing her against it with the full weight of my body.

I wasn’t hungry for food anymore. I needed Charity more than sustenance. She was sustenance.

“Kingston,” she breathed more than said, putting her hands on either side of my face.

As hard as it was not to crash my mouth into hers, I resisted. “Yeah?” I sounded as out of breath as if I’d just run my fastest mile.

“I don’t want to wait for pizza.”

“No?”

“Take me to the town house. Now. ”

I grabbed one box of photos, she grabbed the other, and we raced down the stairs. “Should you…?” I pointed to Mr. Hill’s house across the street.

“No.”

I didn’t try to talk her into it. While she locked the front door, I opened the hatch of the SUV and put one box in, then the other. I grabbed her wrist as she walked away. “Are you sure about this?”

“Are you?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

The eight-mile drive from her grandparents’ place to the town house felt longer than our earlier two-hour trips. I was certain I’d hit every red light along the way.

“Maybe we should order something.”

Granted, my brain wasn’t the part of my body currently doing the thinking, but it shouldn’t affect my hearing. “What did you say?”

“You know, food?”

“You want food?” If I had to think any harder about what she was trying to say, I’d have to pull over.

“Not now . For later.”

“Yeah. Um, later.”

“How much farther?”

“I don’t know. I think we’re close.” When I glanced over at her and saw she had one hand on her breast and the other between her legs, I almost rammed into the car in front of me. “Don’t.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to be more specific?—”

“ Do not touch yourself. Is that clear enough? If you keep that up, we’re going to end up in the backseat of the SUV, behind some convenience store, and that is not the memory either of us wants of the first time we make love.”

“But—”

“I’m not kidding.” I saw our street, and blessedly, the light stayed green long enough for me to make a left turn and come to a screeching halt in front of the place. Pulling into the driveway would take too long.

“What are you doing?” she whined when I opened the hatch to get the boxes of photos.

“I thought?—”

“Stop thinking and get us inside.”

The irony might’ve been amusing if I could think about anything other than how I could not wait to see Amaryllis naked.

“Hurry up,” she demanded, shifting from one foot to the other while I tried to jam the key in the lock.

“Do you have to use the restroom?”

“What?” She screeched louder than the SUV’s tires had.

“You’re, you know, kind of bouncing around.”

She grabbed the keys from my hand and pushed me out of the way. “You are the least romantic man who ever lived. ‘Do I have to use the restroom?’ God. ”

The door sprang open, we raced inside, and I slammed it behind us. Then it was a frenzy of ripping clothes off. I alternated between trying to help her and removing something else of mine. “Upstairs,” I said when we were both down to our underwear.

She pulled me into the first room we came to—hers—then pushed me onto the bed.

“Wait.”

“What now?”

I reached for the lamp and switched it on. “I need to see you, and I want you to see me. Now, take off your bra.” I motioned for her to step closer and spread my legs. “Right here.”

“Right there?” She pointed to the floor, but didn’t move more than an inch. “Is this where you want me?”

“Closer.” When the bra came off, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to me, but I couldn’t decide where to start.

I wanted everything all at once. I latched my mouth onto one nipple while kneading her other breast. Then switched.

When she started to writhe, I was sure I’d died and gone to heaven.

She yelped when I picked her up and she landed in the middle of the bed. I climbed on top of her, using one hand to prop myself up enough not to crush her, then starting at the curve of her neck and shoulder, I kissed my way down her body.

“Faster,” she begged.

“Not a chance. Pleasure like this is meant to be savored.”

“Savor later.”

“Don’t rush me.”

She writhed more, trying to get her pussy as close as she could to where my cock was straining against my boxer briefs. “Why not?”

“Look at me,” I said when she closed her eyes.

I could get lost in their blue-green depths, but, like she’d said, there’d be time for that later. We had all night, and right now, I didn’t care if I ever ate again.

“What?” she whispered.

“I want you to remember this. Every second of it.”

“I will. Will you?”

“If I live to be a hundred, I will never, ever forget the first time our naked bodies touched.”

“We aren’t naked yet.”

“We will be soon enough.” I shifted farther down her body, removing her panties as I went. Then I stood and removed my briefs. She gasped when my cock sprang out, and as if by instinct, she spread her legs wider.

I positioned myself between them, then lowered my head and used my tongue to spread her folds, gliding up and down, drinking her in as she undulated beneath me.

“Kingston, please,” she begged, lifting her hips as much as she could.

I slid one finger inside, then another. “Is that what you want?”

“More,” she pleaded.

“Patience, my love.”

“I’m not your love. If I was, you wouldn’t make me wait.”

While she was teasing, I wasn’t. I shifted my body, ran my cock through her wetness, then entered her.

I waited as her tightness softened enough for me to go deeper, then waited again.

All the while, my finger circled her nub, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

When she cried out and her pussy clenched, I pushed the rest of the way, stroking in and out as she rode her climax.

Her hands clung to my forearms, her nails dug into my flesh, but her gaze never left mine.

When her body softened again and the pulse I could see throbbing in her neck slowed, I picked up my pace, easing almost all the way out, then thrusting hard back in.

“Remember every second, Charity. Promise me that.”

“Every second,” she whispered. “I promise.”

I tried to slow down, but couldn’t. I was too close. She met each thrust, allowing me deeper until I felt the heat creep up my neck. It was all I could do to keep my eyes on hers as I roared my release, bringing her right along with me.

When I eventually stilled, I realized what I’d done. “Charity, I didn’t?—”

“Shh. It’s okay.”

“But—”

“I won’t get pregnant, and I haven’t been with anyone for…a long time.”

“Neither have I.” While I wanted to stay inside her forever, I eased my body from hers and shifted to my side, pulling her as close as I could when she did the same.

My fingers brushed the hair from her face at the same time my lips met hers. The kiss was softer, sweeter, gentler, like our hands as we explored each other’s bodies.

She caught my wrist and brought one of mine to her lips. “I love your hands.” She kissed my palm, running her tongue along its deep lines.

There were so many things I could say to tease her, but now wasn’t the time. I wanted to savor these brief moments as we lay in each other’s arms after joining our bodies together.

The blissful moment ended far too soon, when my rumbling stomach broke the silence.

“Least romantic man who ever lived,” I muttered, somewhat mortified.

Charity shook her head. “Most romantic.”

While we waited for our pizza to be delivered, we made love again.

Then more after we ate. It felt right, being here, instead of on the plane or even in the cottage in Shere.

My brother had made the arrangements like he had with the other places we’d shared, but this felt more like ours.

Maybe it was because it was close to where she grew up, or maybe because it was where I came so close to losing her, yet in those fleeting hours, neither of us could let go.

Charity ran her finger up and down my bare arm. “What are you thinking about?”

“I like being here. With you. In this place.”

She nodded once as if she understood perfectly.

“What about you? What are you thinking about?”

“Something you said.”

I winced, and she leaned in to kiss me.

“I was talking to your mother when I saw you across the street. I remember being worried about Mercury and you, and while feeling absolutely sorry for myself, I wondered if anyone would ever worry about me. And then, when you came inside, do you remember the first words you spoke to me?”

“‘Do you know how worried I was?’”

“I realized then that it wasn’t the first time. Not by a long shot. There you were, even when you still believed I’d betrayed your confidence, you still came looking for me, still worried about me.”

“I didn’t believe you had by then, but you’re right. No matter what, I’ll always come looking for you. I’ll always worry about you. I’ll always care about you.”

“I’ll always care about you too.” As she snuggled into me, her beating heart resting against mine, I wondered if, like me, she didn’t mean care as much as she did, love.