She did so, very slowly, watching him the entire time. He just stood, his movements unhurried, his hand absently stroking his erection. Her mouth watered. She touched her tongue to her lips, not taking her eyes from the broad, flared head with the tempting small drops of moisture. She knew his taste intimately. Darkly male. Salty and unique.
He moved around her, dropping one hand onto her hip possessively. The feel of his heat was amazing. He knelt behind her, his fingers flexing at her hips once before gripping her hard. She was unprepared for his entrance. He slammed into her hard, burying himself to the hilt, the velvet steel pushing through the tight folds of her muscles, sending flames racing through her body and scraping over the tight bundle of sensitive nerves until she felt raw and inflamed and so needy she couldn't stop her gasping breath. He hammered into her, over and over, driving her up fast.
Jaimie heard the roar of blood in her head, her pulse thundering. He was rough, but so careful of not hurting her. She loved the way he felt, so thick, invading her over and over, going deep, so deep she swore he was in her stomach. She was so close she pushed back hard, reaching for release. His fingers fisted in her hair and he pulled her head back, suddenly stopping all movement.
Mack leaned forward, his body over her back, his cock a steel spike buried deep in her pulsing body. He put his lips against her ear. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to a man to know the woman who belongs to him doesn't trust him?"
She stiffened. She could feel the anger running through him like a raging river. He pulled back, nearly all the way out, until she gave a protesting sob, following his body with hers. He slammed his body harder into hers. Her womb convulsed. Her body rippled, clutched at his, but he stopped again, leaving her gasping, needing. Mack at his most lethal with her. She recognized danger. His deliberate seduction hadn't been about lying beside her all night needing her body. This was something altogether different.
"Mack, please."
He bit her shoulder. Hard. His tongue swirled over the ache. "Don't Mack me. Who the fuck do you trust with your life when you don't trust me? Joe? Is it Joe, Jaimie? Fucking tell me who it is."
"Not Joe." She tried to move, but his body locked hers beneath him, his fist tight in her curls. She tried to clear her mind. "You pulled the plug on the back-trace. I knew I was stirring up a hornet's nest, but I wanted that last nail in the coffin."
His fingers tightened in her scalp almost, but not quite, to the point of pain. "Those two men who came here to question you would have destroyed your computers and then they would have killed you. They were definitely Black Ops."
"I knew I was taking a chance, Mack, but I had to do it. I had to make certain you were protected." She held perfectly still. His shaft pulsed and jerked in her, sending hot waves spiraling through her body.
"Phillip Thornton might want Kane and Brian dead, because he doesn't want Whitney exposed. And he certainly can't afford for his new identity to come under scrutiny, so getting rid of Kane and Brian is a good idea for him. Getting rid of you is even better. But there is no way Whitney or this Thornton are the ones trying to murder GhostWalkers. They put too much into us. They think of themselves as patriots. Thornton took the heat and disappeared in order to help Whitney arrange his own death. These men believe in the GhostWalker program."
"So he would kill Kane and Brian and me, but not the rest of you?" Jaimie asked.
"We aren't a threat to him." Mack pulled out and slammed home again.
Her tight sheath clamped down around him like a vise. She was so close, but he held her release just out of reach. "Well, I intend to make certain he won't send Kane and Brian on any more suicide missions," Jaimie said. "And I want Whitney stopped."
"Honey." Mack kissed the side of her neck, suckled there for a moment, branding her. "It won't ever matter what proof you have, they'll only discredit you." He knelt back up, still retaining possession of her hair. His voice changed, the anger breaking through. "Stop fucking around and tell me who else you've trusted with this information and why you trusted them, and not me."
Jaimie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. He looked cool and calm, but she knew him far too well. He was not only angry, he was hurt. Really hurt.
"Mack." She had to work to keep her voice from trembling. He always affected her that way. She'd never been able to stand up to him when he became like this. It was far worse being naked. "Great interrogation technique. This isn't fair."
"You trusted someone else and you didn't tell me. Did you expect me to be happy?"
"I gave you the information I had on Phillip Thornton. Any information I have on Whitney or proof I've collected, I have no problem sharing with you."
"Why, Jaimie?" he asked, his voice quieter than ever.
She couldn't stop herself from pushing back against him, trying desperately to force him to keep moving, but he held her firm, refusing to give her release. She set her teeth. "You stopped the trace."
"Griffen's phone has been bugged for a while. The setup's been in place and they wouldn't suddenly change it. Someone else was trying to get information about you. You, Jaimie. They were coming after you and it wasn't Whitney or Thornton. Whoever is against Thornton and Whitney is also against every GhostWalker." He bent his head until his lips were nearly against hers, his dark eyes boring into hers. "Let me tell you something, baby. Whether you like it or not, you're a GhostWalker."
Jaimie let her breath out in a little hiss. "All right, Mack. I'll concede you might have been right. I've been concentrating on finding out everything I could about Whitney. I might have accidentally stumbled onto these others without knowing it, but if we find out who they are . . ."
She tried to push back, to move her hips in a slow circle, but his fingers gripped her hard and he held her firmly against him until she could feel the very rise and fall of his breath through his thick, hot shaft.
"No. You're in enough trouble with what you have. They were going to kill you, Jaimie. Thornton ordered a hit on you." He smacked her butt, as if he couldn't stop the spurt of anger rushing through him, sending waves of heat like a flash through her system. "The dead teacher, Jaimie. That was your warning and you knew it at the time. Who else had access to your file? Thornton was telling you to back off Whitney, but you didn't listen so he sent his goon squad. They were going to torture you to find out what you knew and if you'd told anyone else. And then they were going to kill you." He enunciated each word carefully as if she might not be able to understand him.
She could feel hurt radiating off of him in waves. It was crippling, the way the emotion battered at her, swamped her, reached out and claimed her. Betrayal. That was what it felt like to him. She'd already turned him inside out and now this. She didn't want to experience his emotions but somehow, their energies were so knitted together that she did, regardless of her own desires.
Jaimie closed her eyes as her body rippled with need. "I'm well aware they were sent to kill me, Mack. I had to take the chance."
He went absolutely still as comprehension dawned. "You knew they'd kill you." His breath caught in his lungs. "Oh, God, Jaimie. You knew they were going to kill you."
She nodded slowly, afraid to move now. "Yes. I had to find a way to keep you all safe."
"Damn it, Jaimie. It was suicide." His hands gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. "Did you even for one moment think about me?"
"You're all I was thinking of," she defended. "You were out there risking your life, and you didn't even know the danger was from the one sending you out."
Mack's fingers flexed on her hip. For a moment he laid his cheek against her back, breathing deep, his hands caressing her skin. "I don't want to live in a world without you in it, Jaimie." His mouth pressed tightly against her spine. "Never put yourself in jeopardy like that again."
Her heart turned over. The fury was gone from him in an instant. She'd delivered more than a body blow; it had been a knockout punch. She hadn't meant to shake him. Her decision had seem
ed so intelligent at the time, her way of saving him, the only way she could.
He trailed kisses along her spine. "I don't know what this is between us, Jaimie, but it isn't just sex. You've never been just sex to me. Don't sacrifice yourself, not for me, not for anyone. If I didn't have you, what would be the point?"
Were there tears in his voice--dropping like burning acid along her back? She couldn't tell and when she tried to turn her head to look over her shoulder at him, he began moving again. Her body responded instantly as he drove deep, a sizzling stroke of pleasure that sent rockets going off in her head. She gasped and pushed back into him, merging, one skin, one breath. Her eyes burned. It was always this way, the mindless pleasure coursing through her veins, her every nerve ending alive the moment he moved in her.
He could rule her body and heart so easily, and right then, when he'd been so furious with her, she felt more emotion from him than ever. It felt like love. Every stroke. Each time he thrust into her, driving deep, taking her up, swelling inside her, pulsing with her, while her sheath tightened around him, gripping with hot intent. She heard his groan, knew he was close. He stopped and she nearly cried.
Mack leaned over her body again with infinite slowness, this time pressing against her most sensitive spot, sending her body spasming, the roar of her orgasm tearing through her womb and up to her stomach so that she went into overdrive, shaking, shuddering. She felt the hot splash of his seed deep inside, but instead of his hoarse cry, she felt his mouth at her ear, his lips moving, small, soft brushes against her lobe.
I love you.
Her heart clenched. Her mind stilled. She wasn't certain he'd actually said the words, but she felt them etched into her mind.
Did you hear me?
She knew better than to look at him. She barely inclined her head, wanting to weep with joy. It was so like him to pick this moment when she didn't know whether he was angry, sad, or overwhelmed with physical lust, but emotion rocked his voice and that was enough for her.
Don't ever leave me, Jaimie.
He knelt up, slowly pulled his body from hers to get shakily to his feet. He helped her up and pulled her into his arms, just holding her to him, his face buried against her neck. "You can't ever do something like that again. I want you to stop this, Jaimie." He pulled back to look into her eyes.