"Christ, Annabel," I curse. "Christ." I get my dick out, and the condom rolled on while keeping her nailed to the wall which I'm pretty sure takes more skill than the average guy has.
"Now, Charlie."
Oh God. I fucking love her getting bossy with me. Her desperation tears at me, fills me with the need to please her like no man ever has. But I don't have time for that. This will have to be satisfying in that crazy impassioned way.
I shove her panties to the side. One thrust and I'm deep inside her. She chokes on her gasp, and I stop, somehow dialing it back. "You okay?" I manage to say.
"Move, Charlie. Please."
Yes, ma'am. That's all the encouragement I need. I fuck her hard against the wall, ramming up into her with every thrust, holding her captive so I can drill deeper every time.
"Is this what you need, sweetheart?"
She digs her nails into the back of my neck and shakes her head. "Harder. Harder. Make it hurt."
Make it hurt?
My need to satisfy her collides with the southern gentleman in me, the respectful soldier. Satisfaction wins out-or maybe it's my goddamn wolf. Either way, I'm no longer capable of holding back. I fuck her so hard, I'm surprised I don't bust a hole in the wall with her ass, and she takes it. She takes every savage stroke until she's climbing me, screaming, begging in incoherent babble.
I squeeze her breast, pinch her nipple. When I twist and pull, she comes, a keening cry issuing from her throat.
I come, too, thrusting deep and staying there for my release.
We breathe together, face to face, mouths touching but not kissing. I pick up the beat of her heart, thudding against her chest. Her scent consumes me. Even though I've already had her, I have the insane urge to rub my entire body over hers, covering her in my scent-marking her, so other males know to stay away.
But that's nuts.
Annabel
THE ROOM SPINS. I'm lightheaded from the orgasm or maybe from the heat-I can't tell. Fortunately, Charlie doesn't let me go. He keeps me pinned against the wall, his cock still filling me as we both pant to recover our breaths.
His eyes look blue again although there's no sunlight hitting them now.
I don't feel guilty I just had sex while my sister and nephew are missing. Hell, if anything, I can rationalize I did this for them. I couldn't think before, I was so wracked with fear. I needed this.
And if I were the conniving type, which I'm not, I would say it was a good move to bond Charlie and further gain his sympathy. But that's not why I did it.
I don't know why he did it, but I don't care. I'm not going to ask anything more of him. Not going to expect a relationship-which he could never deliver. I just needed this human contact. Just needed to feel his support in this visceral, cathartic way.
After a few moments, he eases out of me and lowers me to my feet. When he straightens my skirt, my chest squeezes a little at being cared for. It's been a very long time since anyone did anything for me.
"You ready to talk, baby?" He leans his forehead against mine as he deftly removes the condom and buttons up his pants with one hand.
It's not really a question, it's a demand. I talk, or he walks. I love how commanding he is-how he manages to still be respectful at the same time.
"Okay," I croak.
He leaves to dispose of the condom, and I feel the loss of him acutely. I still have the wall to hold me up, yet nothing will keep me from sliding down it and crumpling in a scared little ball on the floor.
But then he's back, offering his hand. He leads me to a take a seat on my sofa, and he pulls up the ottoman to sit right in front of me-interrogator to detainee.
No, that's not what this is. My reluctance to tell him my father may have done something bad is not a good enough reason to keep silent. He's going to help me. I can tell him what I know. I run my fingers through my hair which must be a mess after our escapade against the wall.
"I found out my dad was CIA. I thought he died in the service, but I guess that was a cover. He was on some kind of operation in El Salvador."
Charlie watches me, that ever-alert awareness to his entire body. He's so still-there's no fidgeting, no movement, almost like a predator right before it pounces.
"I was digging around, trying to get into redacted files-same thing I did for you with the lab fire cases, only I couldn't get much. So, I got bold and made a few phone calls."
Charlie purses his lips. "And?"
"I called Director Scape. He told me to back off. That I might not like what I found out. Let sleeping dogs lie, that kind of thing."
Charlie still doesn't move.
"The next day I get a call from Agent Tentrite. She tells me she'll prosecute if I hack any more internal files."
He absorbs the information and waits. Not one to spend a useless word, this guy.
"This morning I called Senator Flack. He was at my father's funeral. They were friends. He didn't call back. When I got home, I found this." I indicate the wrecked apartment and the bedroom with the photo. Tears pop into my eyes again as fear for my sister and nephew spikes.
"But what were they looking for here? Did you print anything out? Transfer files?"
I shiver. Acknowledging this fact makes everything so much more real. "I said I found a journal of my father's. It wasn't true, but I didn't want to admit I'd hacked files."
Charlie purses his lips and nods. "So, they want the journal. They may not stop until they get it."
"I don't have it!" My voice rises in pitch before I force myself to take a breath.