Page 18 of The Truths that Deceive

“I know, so have I. Marta’s a hot number and she wanted you.” He grins as he takes my drink. “Of course, that’s only because she didn’t fucking see me there in the shadows.”

“Stick to murder, man, because you’re not going to make it as a Casanova.”

He finishes the drink and orders two more. I’m not even sure if they’re both for him or if one’s for me. “Jones called. Did some digging.”

“Weren’t you in Scotland?”

“I was,” he says, “and I’ve got business here. Some of us don’t take vacations.”

“I take it you have something?”

The drinks arrive and I grab one before he can suck them both down.

“There’s nothing on any radars about the girl or the agent,” he says.

“Weapons?” I ask.

“Seems like the CIA’s been trying to get info on who has blueprints to new weapons of ours that are being quietly shopped around on the black market. They don’t want to just stop the sales. They want to trace back to the source.”

“That’s—”

“No, ground zero source.”

I look at him. “As in how the fuck did they even get out to be sold?” I frown. “It shouldn’t be hard.”

“No, it shouldn’t. What’s weird is, this is all so hush-hush, people working on it don’t even have the full picture of what they have. Everything gets handed in and assembled at some upper level.” He shrugs.

I wrap my fingers around the glass. “You think the girl’s a key or a traitor?”

“No fucking idea. But I’m going to see Jones about that job. I’ll be in New York for a while. Do you want me to keep an eye on things there?”

As in her brother? He hasn’t given me anything. But it’s hard to give information if you don’t have anything. So I’m going to need to play this by ear. Get her back, hand her over, collect my money.

I’m just interested in all the whys and other details because I can’t help myself. And the brother and my bargaining chip works. “Yeah, I do.”

“And?”

I meet his eye, knowing what he’s asking. “If I give the order, you know what to do.”

He grins. “Gotcha.”

We shoot the shit for a while and it’s late when we leave and part ways on the street. The rain’s stopped for now so I keep the umbrella shut, using the would-be weapon as a walking stick just in case.

Calista’s asleep when I get back, and the letter opener spitefully stuck in the wooden door should piss me off, but it makes me smile. I leave it and check in on her. She’s passed out on the sofa in the study, the computer on her lap, and I’m guessing she’s been trying to get the thing to wake up.

Except the battery charger is under lock and key in the safe, too.

I pull the computer from her lap, and she mutters something but doesn’t wake up. Scooping her up, I carry her to her room. She’s not big, but even like this, with one arm flung in the air, I can see the toned muscles. And she’s warm. She fits.

I should never have fucking fingered her because my brain’s still whispering about pulling her panties off with my teeth and licking her deep. I already know what she tastes like and fuck, I want more.

I lay her on the mattress, pull the duvet over her, and go to my room to undress. My fucking cock’s half-erect as I fall into my bed. A deep sigh escapes my mouth. It wouldn’t take much to get completely hard, wouldn’t take much more to jack off.

My mind trips back to Calista splayed out on the mattress a few doors down.

And I realize I don’t want my hand.

I want her pussy.

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