He kept working the small knot out of her muscles, and also trailed his over her upper back, nibbling on the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck. Between kisses, he said, “The study stated…sex should actually be used as a cure…releases all kinds of hormones and…feel-good chemicals…makes…a…nasty…migraine…go…away.”
Chloe rolled her head to the other side, inviting attention to that newly exposed skin, “Are you suggesting we make love so that my headache will go away?”
“You’re not willing to try it?” His fingertips brushed the sides of her breasts before snaking around her ribcage to cup them in his warm palms. She was still wearing an oversized T-shirt, but it didn’t matter one bit. The feeling of his hands on her breasts had her nipples hardening.
She didn’t want him to quit touching her. She turned, kissing him, and muttered, “I’m willing to try it if you are.”
Trent rolled with her, pushing her into the mattress. “One migraine cure coming up.”
He dropped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth. The feel of the wet fabric only seemed to enhance the pleasure that spiked through her. She twisted and ran her hands over his bare skin. “Trent?”
He didn’t need to be told what she needed. He sank back on his haunches and quickly divested her of the t-shirt. He then snapped the thin elastic bands holding her small panties up from her hips, pulling the offending scrap of fabric away from her body.
“Chloe, you’re absolutely beautiful.”
She smiled, reached up, and pulled his head down to hers. She skimmed her hands down his chest, took him in hand, and yawned. “I’m a little sleepy, so you might have to do most of the work.”
With one hand, Trent covered her hand where she was stroking him. “Let me take care of everything.”
He pushed her hands to the side, leaned over, and put his mouth on her. She gave a soft moan and opened wider for him. She tasted salty and slick—like she had the ocean’s tides in her. She tasted fantastic. He lapped at her, used his fingers on her, and wanted to have her fall apart in his hands.
He groaned as her body contracted around him. He found that special spot between her legs that had her moaning in pleasure and tightening around his body to the point of pain. She gave a gasp and her hips bucked. He kept his arms wrapped around her. Lifting his head, he smiled at her.
She touched his cock. “What about you?”
With a grin, he wrapped her hand around him. “What about me?”
She smiled. She cocked a finger and beckoned him to straddle her. He did, positioning himself so that his cock nudged her lips apart. She lay underneath him and opened her mouth, inviting him to push into her. He did. She sucked hard, licked, put her hands on his thighs.
He’d never seen anything so erotic, never felt anything so—she let him push deep into her throat, took him deep. The world whited out around him, he came with a shout, shattered. Collapsing next to her, he let out a breath.
He was exhausted, but sleep was a long time coming. He kept thinking he should pull Chloe out now from the Guardians—he knew they were trouble. But he couldn’t. She could blow the whole plan. He didn’t know how to keep her safe—he just knew he couldn’t stand it if anything happened to her.
Chapter 12
It took five days for the damn Guardians to show up—or at least for the movers and shakers behind things to show.
By then Trent had a good idea of who was who—meaning, who in the organization believed in their goals of saving the world and who might be on the take from companies looking to use the Guardians for industrial sabotage. Or at least he thought that Travis had dug up a good idea.
The top two names were Anna Neills and Bradley Myers. Travis hadn’t been able to trace funds to them directly, but they were the only two employees who showed a suspicious change in their spending patterns over the past few months.
The boss had gone to talk to Givart Industries to see what he could shake out from there—he’d gotten a meeting with their lawyers, meaning there definitely had to be a smoking gun around that connected the Guardians with Givart, and with taking out a competing company.
The question now was, who had hired the Guardians to go after Jawhara’s oil fields? Without that information, it wouldn’t work to just take out the Guardians. Jawhara would still be open to additional attacks from some other company willing to pay to get their dirty work done. Besides, it turned out that Chloe had been right—the Guardians did do a lot of good. So, it was time to pluck out the bad apples.
Trent was just hoping they would take the bait that he was going to give them.
He pushed through the glass doors, clad in his best surfer gear—board shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and sandals. He flashed a peace sign at Chloe, and a wink, and turned to the austere-looking woman who seemed to be waiting for him.
Anna Neills—he knew from her photo online. She’d come up from a middle-class family, had bailed out of the corporate sector, ran one non-profit into the ground, had married a guy who’d been held by the Feds under suspicion of some heavy cons he’d run. He’d skipped on bail, however, disappeared, and Anna had wound up with the Guardians. She didn’t look like a happy person.
Her black hair had been pulled back into a tight bun. She had on a black suit and a bright red blouse stuck out from underneath. Horn-rimmed glasses made her eyes look too big for her face. She was doing a good job of hiding a healthy bank account.
“Mr. Larson?” She gave a fractional smile—a cold one.
Ah, doesn’t know if surfer dude is worth her time. Trent gave her a cocky grin, watching as she looked at his board shorts and mussed hair with disdain. “You the babe in charge?”