Lexi Blake - Love and Let Die

“Let me down now.”

“Not until you’re on the right side of the door, sweetheart.” He managed to get the front door open even as she struggled against him.

The night was humid, heat slamming into him as he strode down his driveway.

“This is stupid, Ian. You have to listen to me.”

His inner asshole was getting a serious workout tonight. “If you wanted me to listen, you should have held out on the hummer. I have what I wanted. I see zero reason to help you out now. Really, Charlotte, you should know by now to get the money upfront.”

He set her on her feet and immediately had to duck another flying fist. She feigned right and then came at him from the left. Luckily, he still remembered how to fight. He caught her fist in his palm and held her there. He didn’t show it, but everything about her excited him. He was already rock hard not five minutes after he’d come.

“Don’t you call me a whore again, Ian.” Her body was practically vibrating with rage.

“I call it like I see it.” She thought she was mad? He could give her mad. “How much did Nelson pay you to fuck me the first time? He’s not going to get his money’s worth this time because that was all the connection I intend to have with you. Been there, done that and all.”

He let her go. If she tried it again, he would have her on the ground, but then she would know what a liar he was because his cock was painfully hard despite the blow job. If he got her on the ground, he might just fuck her right then and there.

She backed up slightly, giving him a little space. “You are going to regret every filthy word that is coming out of your mouth. Do you think you can scare me away by calling me a whore and saying the sex was meaningless? Try again. Because while I might be an excellent liar, you’ve lost your edge, Taggart. Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit. You know you’re going to talk to me. You know you want to find out what happened.”

The jibe about losing his edge hit too close to home. She was the reason he’d lost his edge. She was the reason he’d gotten out of the game in the first place. “I know what happened. I got led around by my dick and a two-year operation went up in flames. Do you know how many people you nearly got killed? Liam almost died because of you.”

She softened. “I know. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that. Let’s go inside, Master.”

He turned and started back up the drive. He wasn’t doing this with her. “Find your own ride home. I’m all out of charity for the night.”

“Charity? You call me giving you the blow job of a lifetime charity?” She was on his heels, obviously not willing to give up.

He turned because she was right back in his trap. Despite what she said, he did know exactly how to hurt her. She could lie all day about her reasons, but she’d been honest when she submitted. She’d been honest about what hurt her as a woman. “Yes, it was charity. I’m not attracted to you. I was attracted to your innocence, well, to the lie of your innocence the first time around. Now I know just who and what you are, and I have no interest in fucking a criminal. Did you take over daddy’s enterprise? Is that what Nelson promised you? Did he off your dear pops so you could be the queen? You cried about all the times daddy hurt you. I wonder now. Maybe you liked it.”

He knew the moment he’d gone too far. Even in the moonlight he could see how she paled and her hands started to shake. She couldn’t fake that reaction. When her hand came out to connect with his face, he let it, holding still for her.

He deserved it. Guilt gnawed in his gut, but he wouldn’t apologize. He wouldn’t back down. “Go home, Charlotte. There’s absolutely nothing for you here.”

He closed the door between them, locking it again. Tomorrow he would redesign his whole security system because he obviously wasn’t paranoid enough. But for tonight, he had a bottle of Scotch calling his name.

And he knew just what he wanted to listen to.

* * * *

Charlie bit back a cry as she watched the door slam shut.

And then she forced herself not to walk right up to it, beat it down, find her asswipe husband, and tear the balls right off his body.

That would teach him not to call her a whore again.

Damn it. Except by definition she had been one before. She’d agreed to distract Ian Taggart in exchange for her and her sister’s safety, and she’d taken the money Nelson had given her afterwards. She hadn’t used it quite the way he’d wanted her to, but she’d used it all the same.

She didn’t feel like a whore. She felt like a woman who had just had the world ripped out from under her.

How could he say those things about her father? Tears welled, a crushing sorrow drowning out the rage. Ian had been the only person on the planet she’d told about what her father had done to her. She’d hidden much of the truth even to her sister. She’d trusted him, and he’d thrown it right back in her face.

Could she have been wrong? She’d been so sure that once she’d helped out his friends and brought him good intelligence that he would sit down and listen to her.

Her phone trilled. She sniffled, trying to banish the tears. There would be time for them later. When she was safely in her room high above the city, she could cry and wail and let it out, but she wasn’t safe now. She flipped the phone to answer. “Chelsea?”

“You’ve just had a mega shit ton of hits on your personal information. Someone is looking for Charlotte, not Kris.”

Well, she’d known they would figure it out sooner or later. She’d left a few threads undone that a smart man could follow.

“I’m sure it’s Adam.” Adam Miles was Ian’s computer guy and a very smart man. She knew it had only been a matter of time before he tracked her down. “He’s the one who’ll be looking.”

“Then he’s the one I’ll be sending in circles. Again.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in Chelsea’s voice. She did enjoy a challenge. She and Adam had gone a couple of rounds during the Florida op.

“He’s good.” Adam had worked with her on the Michael Evans takedown. He didn’t know it yet, but he’d already tangled with Chelsea.

For all the good it had done her.

“I’m better,” Chelsea said.

Charlie sighed. “Let him in. It doesn’t matter now. They’ve figured it out. I bet they finally found the recording of the night I downloaded their copy machine.”

It was how she’d figured out everything about them. It had been an operation she’d been more than happy to complete.

“Why didn’t you erase it?”

Because she’d always kind of hoped he would come looking for her. “It doesn’t matter now. It looks like we won’t use the new IDs the way I planned.”

She’d had new identities crafted for both of them. Her uncle had been quiet for a while. She wouldn’t have come after Ian if she’d thought there was a ton of heat on her. Her plan had been to come into town and try to work things through with Ian. Then she could hide here under a new identity and she would keep her nose clean and her uncle would lose interest in punishing her.

“What are you saying, Charlotte?”

She didn’t want to go over all the ways she’d screwed up. “I have to hike back to my car and then I’ll come home.”

“Are you done stalking the big guy? Because we need to move on.” Chelsea wasn’t exactly on board with Charlie’s plans to win Ian back. Since her sister had come into her own, Chelsea seemed to think they didn’t need men.

Charlie looked back at the house. Ian had done well for himself. His house was big and sturdy, like the man himself. She’d expected him to be in a condo like hers. No fuss. No muss. But no, Ian Taggart’s home had a big yard and trees. It looked like a family could live there.