J. Kenner - Wanted

“Yes,” he said harshly. “It is.” He met my eyes. “Don’t ever be naive, Lina. Whatever you’ve read—whatever you think you know—keep in mind that the press coverage about me doesn’t even come close to the truth.”

I frowned, knowing this was an opportunity. I’d told him about Gracie; if I asked, he just might tell me the truth. About what happened after his father died. About all those secrets Jahn had mentioned. About all the things that Kevin had hinted at.

And yet I didn’t ask. I didn’t say one single word.

I’m not entirely sure why I held back. All I knew was that the sexy, dark, dangerous man I’d fantasized about was finally in my bed, and would be for the next three weeks. Did I want to risk that high by bringing reality into the mix?

I didn’t, and so I stayed silent, gently stroking my hand over his. His knuckles had healed quite a bit, but they were still red, the skin obviously tender. “There was trouble with one of the women who works at Destiny,” he said, though I hadn’t even lifted a brow in question. “I had a little chat with the man causing the trouble. Now there’s no more trouble.”

I thought of what went down in the alley and could easily imagine him protecting the girls. I hoped the man’s face looked one hell of a lot worse than Evan’s knuckles.

I kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad.”

He met my eyes and held them, and the moment had the quality of a salute. As if he not only approved of my words, but I’d passed some sort of test. He smiled, just a little, then he laid his head back and closed his eyes. I settled against him. Even though it was still ridiculously early, I knew that sleep would elude me. I wasn’t yet awake, but at the same time I was full of energy.

I let my fingers explore his body, stroking his chest, easing up his arm. The vibrant green of the vine tattoo popped in the dim light, and I traced its outline with my fingertip, feeling relaxed and lazy and so very comfortable with this man. “Does it mean something?”

He turned his head toward me, his eyes barely open.

“It’s a reminder,” he said. “Let’s just say it keeps me focused.”

I waited for him to say more, but he just turned his head back and closed his eyes again.

I thought of what Jahn had said so many years ago—about how Evan had secrets. His own, and those he keeps for others.

I might have guessed at some of his secrets, but as I looked at Evan, resting peacefully beside me, I had to acknowledge that I didn’t really know the man at all.

But, damn me, I wanted to. I so very desperately wanted to.

I woke again a few hours later to the incredible scent of coffee and the even more incredible man smiling down at me.

“Hey,” he said, passing me the mug. “Drink up. Get dressed. We need to get going.”

I blinked at him. “Going? Where?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I said, without hesitation.

“Then you’ll see when we get there.”

I took a long sip of coffee and felt life returning. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“A quick one,” he said.

“Do I have time for a shower with you?”

He laughed. “That wouldn’t be quick.” He leaned over and kissed me, long and deep and so scrumptious it curled through me, setting me just a little bit on fire. Yeah, I thought. It wouldn’t be quick at all. “Now go,” he said, taking the mug and then tugging the sheet off me as I squealed and scrambled out of bed.

He patted my ass as I hurried by, and I paused long enough to shoot him a saucy grin. “Naked and soapy,” I said. “But I guess you’re going to miss it all.”

“Vixen,” he said, then laughed.

When Uncle Jahn had remodeled the penthouse, he’d wanted every guest to feel as much at home as Jahn himself did. And to that end, he’d focused on making each of the four guest suites as stunning as possible. Each had a bedroom that was beyond gigantic with a full wall of windows with a view of either the lake or the city. The bedroom abutted an adjacent sitting area complete with decadent furniture, a wet bar, and the most important of all essentials: the coffee station.

But it was in the bathrooms that Jahn’s generosity really shined. Unlike most homes in which only the master suite had a bathroom with bells and whistles, in Jahn’s condo, every guest was treated as royalty, too. And the bathroom that had become mine when I’d moved in and selected my suite was absolutely my most favorite room in the entire penthouse.

The walls were a combination of dark teak and white marble with pinkish veins that gave the room a classical yet slightly funky feel. The shower stall was bigger than the entire bathroom in the apartment I’d shared with Flynn and had a line of showerheads descending from floor to ceiling, and two other lines arching out for almost 360 degree coverage. Teak benches lined two walls of the stall, and except for the glass door and one glass wall, the walls were made up of that marble I loved so much.

The glass wall looked in on the sauna that was positioned beside the shower, and next to that was a steam room. Adding to the spa-like theme, there was a giant whirlpool tub, an entertainment center with the television hidden behind the huge mirror, and a beverage center, complete with a carbonated water dispenser and a wine fridge.

When you also considered the dressing-room-style closet—which would comfortably house a family of five—the bathroom crossed the line from freaking awesome to fan-fucking-tastic.

The only thing what would make it better was if Evan was with me, but if time was an issue I had to concede that it was probably for the best that he’d declined my offer.

Still … he was on my mind as I turned on the ceiling-mounted rain-shower head, then brushed my teeth while I waited for the water temperature to adjust. He was even more in my thoughts when I stepped into the warm, wet spray.

I tilted my face up, letting the water run over my skin and soak my hair. There was a shampoo dispenser in the wall, and I put some into my hand, then rubbed it over my head. My hair was thick enough that it took a while to soap it up well, and even longer to thoroughly rinse it. I closed my eyes and let the water fall onto my face and then sluice down my body in warm trails.

I didn’t hear him come in, but even before he touched me I knew he was there. Maybe it was a shift in the ambient noise. Maybe there was a change in the light. Or maybe I was just attuned to his presence, connected to him now as I’d never been to anyone before.

All I know is that I felt no surprise when he pressed up behind me, his erection teasing my rear as his hands cupped my breasts.

Neither of us said a word, but I leaned back as he stroked me, his strong hands playing with my breasts, his fingers teasing my nipples. He trailed one hand down my belly to find me slick and wet and ready. His fingers stroked me, filling me, and finding my sensitive clit, and I gasped as he brushed his finger over it, sending ripples of warmth coursing through me.

His fingers played with me, moving slowly and sensually in teasing strokes designed to drive me wild, and he kept it up with minute attention until I knew that it was a good thing he was holding me upright, because my legs felt so weak I knew I would collapse if he even thought about letting go.

I was so close to release that I actually whimpered when he pulled his hand away, but he wasn’t done with me. He moved me forward, bending me at the waist and putting my hands on the wall. Still, he said nothing, and I smiled as I stood there, my hands on the warm stone, my rear pressed up against him. He stroked my back, his hands sliding down either side of me until he reached my hips. He used his knee to ease my legs slightly wider, and then—as I closed my eyes in sweet anticipation—he slid his cock deep into me.