Strike (Tortured Heroes Book 4) Read online

  I smiled at her. “You’re welcome. Though I’m getting the impression you might have been able to handle that if I hadn’t come along.”

  She laughed and her hair fell over the side of her face. The light shone against her tan, toned arm. “Maybe,” she answered. She looked back at a table in the opposite corner. A group of middle-aged men sat there. Each one of them wore the same shade of khakis and blue golf shirts. Silverhorn probably guessed right they were accountants, or dentists, if I had to bet. One of them smiled at the girl.

  “Those friends of yours?” I asked.

  She tucked her hair back again. “Co-workers,” she answered.

  “Ah,” I said, looking her up and down. “Did you miss the dress code memo?”

  She laughed. “I missed a lot of things. Can I buy you a drink for your trouble?”

  I looked back toward my table. Brett and Ed got my attention. Brett leaned back in his chair and whispered something to Ed. Ed took a bill out of his pocket and passed it to Brett. I pursed my lips and shot them a death stare.

  I took Sam’s seat and the girl sat on the stool next to me. She flicked her hair back and I caught the clean scent of her shampoo, like strawberries and cream. I reached out and offered her my hand.

  “Ben Killian,” I said.

  “Ah, Ben.” She took my hand and shook it. She had a firm, proper grip. Heat flooded my veins again as the echo of today’s adrenaline rush took hold. The drink hadn’t curbed it. A good old-fashioned bar fight might have, but I was beyond that now. But there was one last thing that could do the trick. In about ten seconds, I’d know if this girl was game.

  “You can call me Charlie,” she said. She rested her chin on her fist and fingered the foil on her beer bottle. Her eyes flashed dark beneath long lashes as she looked me up and down. A blush colored her cheeks as I gave her a slow smile.

  Hell, yes, the game was on.

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte

  “You can call me Charlie.”

  I don’t know why I said that. Nobody had called me that since I was five years old. Normally I hated it. As if it were another reminder that my dad probably wished he’d had a son. But my friend Sonya’s words still echoed in my mind from our phone conversation this morning.

  “Cut loose, Charlotte. Live a little,” she’d said. “That’s the whole reason you made this great big life change and left me, you bitch.”

  A year ago … hell … six months ago, I never would have imagined myself sitting in this dive bar in tiny little Lincolnshire, Ohio sipping domestic beer and staring into the palest pair of blue eyes I’d ever seen. My heart thumped in my chest as Ben Killian gave me a sexy little half smile that lit me up all the way down to my toes.

  He smelled good. A hint of aftershave and that unmistakable man scent that made me think he probably worked with his hands more than his mind. That was good. Shit. It was downright necessary in my life right now. I tried not to be obvious as I let my gaze fall over the way his black, drifit t-shirt stretched taut over the hard-cut muscles of his chest and biceps. He wasn’t bulky or perfectly sculpted like a weightlifter. He looked strong and powerful as though he spent a fair bit of time using those muscles for some legitimate purpose like construction. He had a devilish cleft in his chin and deep-set eyes that looked straight through me.

  A flare of heat went through me as Ben Killian gave me a full smile and asked me some question or another. I smiled and laughed. I don’t even know what I answered. I hadn’t done this in so long. Maybe I’d never done it … flirting in a bar with some random gorgeous man. My focus went to the way his full lips moved, how he squared his shoulders and turned toward me. This man was all purpose and confidence, no nervous laughter or distracted gestures like playing with the label of his beer bottle. I sensed he knew what he wanted and wasn’t used to hearing no for an answer. Is that what I was thinking of saying? Even a week ago, the thought wouldn’t have entered my mind. Being taken and off the market had become a habit. A bad one. Now Ben Killian’s smoldering eyes held a dare in them, my heart fluttered as I contemplated my next move.

  Throwing a casual glance over my shoulder, I saw the entire accounting department of Victory Technologies staring back at me. They were my dates, so to speak. Ned, Jerry, Scott, and Doug convinced me to come out with them for a drink after work. I was the new guy hired just two weeks ago. They were trying to be nice and pretend having a woman on their team didn’t bother them just a little. They were sweet, all of them. Sweet and safe and smart. I swear I hadn’t come out here looking for a hook-up. But then Ben Killian gave me that sultry, hooded stare through lashes so thick they’d make most women jealous.

  “So, Charlie,” he said. “Is that short for something?”

  “It’s just simple,” I said. Laughter rose from the opposite corner and I turned toward it. Two men at a round table tucked in the darkest corner of the room stared right at Ben. I looked back at him and a vein jumped near his temple. He looked two seconds from murder. It was the first sign from him of any inner turmoil. I kind of liked the fact he might have a vulnerable side to him.

  “Friends of yours?” I asked, sipping my beer. It was cool going down and only my second. One more and my head would likely float in just the right way. That might be dangerous depending on how far I wanted to take this with Ben.

  “Oh, I’m not going to claim them tonight. I figured I’d focus on saving your virtue from the likes of Sam Silverhorn.”

  I laughed. “And you just said I could take care of myself. So who’s going to save me from you?”

  Ben cocked his head to the side and moved toward me just a little. He had thick, black hair cropped close just above his collar. Rough stubble shaded his square jaw and I had the urge to touch him there and smooth the tension away. He sat with his back straight and squared shoulders, his fists half curled. He scanned the room in the way that alpha men do, always looking for something to fight or fuck.

  Heat pooled low in my belly as I made my decision. It was reckless. Stupid, really, and so unlike me. But I think that was the point.

  I wanted Ben Killian. No, I needed Ben Killian.

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, taking the last swig of his beer. His eyes flashed and he leaned in just a little closer. I did something bold. I set my beer down and put my hand over his, turning it over so I could trace the lines of his palm.

  Oh yes, these were rough hands. Strong hands. The kind that could span my waist and lift me off my feet. I wondered what other magic Ben Killian might do with them and the promise of it made my head spin faster than the beer did.

  “Oh, I think I probably do have to worry about you. But at the moment, I’m not sure I care.”

  His low laughter sent shock waves of desire coursing through me. Was he a gentleman? God, I hoped not. If he was, I’d made a gross miscalculation and numbers were my specialty after all. But I didn’t know how to do this. I’d never done this. Do I use some cliché like “your place or mine?” The instant I thought it, a flutter of fear went through me. I wanted to be on my turf, not his. I took a breath and drank the last of my beer. Liquid heat and that last little bit of courage I needed flowed and I gave Ben a smile that I hoped conveyed my intentions. His dark brow arched and he threaded his fingers through mine.

  “I just need a minute,” I said, shocked that I could still form words. I felt disconnected as though the rational part of me floated above. She was up there watching this scene unfold eating popcorn and shaking her head.

  Ben leaned in. His lips brushed my ear and my breath caught. “I might need all night.”

  My face flushed with warmth. His tone turned my insides to liquid and desire throbbed between my legs. Oh God. This was nuts. But it was perfect. I could almost hear Sonya’s voice, cheering me on. She’d be sitting in the bleacher seats stealing popcorn from my rational self.

  “I’m going to head out. Find a way not to be obvious,” I said. “I work with those guys at the back table
and I’d rather not have to explain myself come Monday morning.”

  I didn’t wait for Ben to react. I slid off the bar stool and somehow found my feet. Straightening my back, I flicked a hank of hair over my shoulder and went over to the table. Ned, Jerry, Scott, and Doug dropped their conversation at once. They’d probably watched everything. Hell, this was awkward. I threw a twenty on the table to kick in for the appetizers we ordered earlier and gave them a salute. “I’m out,” I said. “Past my bedtime.”

  “You sure, Charlotte?” Ned asked. He was the oldest of the bunch and getting close to retirement. Though I appreciated the avuncular concern, it also grated.

  “Good night, Ned,” I said.

  “You okay to drive?” he asked. He looked over my shoulder. Smiling, I took a breath and looked toward the bar. Ben had turned his back and was busy talking up the bartender. Oh, he was good. To an observer, nobody would think he cared at all about what was going on right behind him. Or maybe I’d misjudged. Would he follow me out?

  My pulse roared in my ears as I said the rest of my goodbyes. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I grabbed my thin scarf off the back of my chair and headed toward the exit. Every cell in my body compelled me to look back. I couldn’t do it though. If I had, I think I might have lost my nerve. I tried to hear Sonya’s encouraging voice in my head.

  You need this. You’re twenty-five, not ninety-five. Craig’s not wasting a second pining over you.

  I blew out a breath and headed toward my car. It would have been so easy to just slide in, turn the ignition, and peel out of here. It wasn’t too late to change my mind. What the hell was I thinking? But that was just the point. I spent too much time thinking.

  I felt a blast of heat at my back as the bar door opened. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bit my bottom lip and took a steadying breath. I had my car parked in the last slot closest to the side of the building, well inside the circular glow of the street lamp. Just then, I wished for the safety of the shadows.

  “Are you okay to drive?” His deep voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. When Ned asked me the question, his tone had been all paternal concern. When Ben said it, I heard chivalry. I turned to face him, feeling the warmth of his body as he stood only a foot away.

  Standing this close to him, I could appreciate just how big he really was. My eyes went up and up. He wore a long black leather jacket that was much more appropriate for the spring chill of March than my lime-green pashmina. A deep line cut across Ben’s forehead and before I could protest, he took off his jacket and slipped it around my shoulders. The weight of it settled over me, enveloping me in warmth.

  “Are you a nice guy, Ben Killian?” I asked, my voice taking on a dreamy quality as I moved closer to the point of no return.

  He let out a wicked laugh and stuffed his hands into his jeans pocket. “I suppose that depends on who you ask.”

  I leaned against my car door and pulled his jacket closer around me.

  “Are you looking for a nice guy?” he asked. He took a step toward me and pulled me to him by gripping the lapels of his jacket. My arms were pinned inside of it and he held me like that, at his mercy. A spear of fire went from my chest straight to my sex. I could barely hear my own voice over my thumping heart.

  “No,” I answered. “God, no.”

  Ben let out a deep laugh, cocked his head, then crushed his lips to mine. Every nerve ending ignited as he pressed his body against me, pinning me against the car door. I practically inhaled him as I parted my lips and kissed him back. His lips were firm, his tongue exploring. There was nothing timid or unsure about the way he molded himself around me, sliding his hand to the small of my back. He pressed my chin down with his thumb, coaxing me to open my mouth even wider.

  The thin fabric of my halter top scraped against the inside of his jacket. My nipples hardened and ached as the pulse between my legs beat strong. I felt myself grow damp. Oh God. Ben Killian tasted like sin and salvation all rolled into one.

  When he finally broke, I sank against the car, gasping for air. Something dark and wicked glinted in his gaze and he gave me a naughty half smile that made me pulse for him even harder. If we weren’t standing under the bright flood of the street lamp in full view of the bar entrance, I think I would have spread my legs for him right then and there. I couldn’t stop my eyes from traveling down to the promising bulge in his jeans.

  “I’ll follow you,” he said, his voice husky with lust.

  I took a staggering step sideways and fumbled for the door handle. I pressed a finger to my swollen lips and nodded. “Hurry,” was all I managed to say.

  I don’t remember the ten-minute drive back to my rented house on Kingston Boulevard. I don’t remember parking in the detached garage or how I got to the back door, let alone found the right key. I just remember Ben pulling up behind me in his black pick-up truck and his slow swagger as he met me at the door. He held it open for me as I searched for the key in the dark.

  The door led to my small kitchen with gray tile floors and granite countertops. I thought to offer him something to drink. But when I turned to ask him, Ben was already on me, still keyed up as much as I was. When he touched me again, sliding his hand to the back of my neck and lacing his fingers through my hair, the craving heat started all over again. It pooled between my legs, making my jeans chafe.

  We stepped backward together in a clumsy two-step that ended up with me pressed against the kitchen counter. I tore at the button of my jeans and shrugged my shoulders, letting Ben’s jacket fall to the floor. He moved fast, tearing his shirt over his head; he cast it aside. I lifted my hands and trailed my fingers over his hard pecs. He flinched and sucked his teeth when I circled his nipples and lifted my eyes toward his.

  Ben picked me up as if I weighed nothing and set me on the counter. My jeans had fallen to my knees and he jerked them down with one swift tug of his hand. He put his hands on my knees and spread me wide. I shuddered as Ben stepped back and looked at me.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. My heart racing, I brought my hands up and slid them behind my neck. One quick pull on the string, and my halter top would fall, exposing my aching breasts to him. Ben jerked his chin at me, daring me to do just that. So I did. As the air hit my bare chest, a flutter of shyness went through me and I tried to fold my hands in front of me. But Ben was quick. He took a step forward and circled my wrists. He lifted my arms up, pinning them against the cupboard behind me. Then he took a step back to admire me. Heat flooded through me, soaking my panties. He need only touch me there to see how ready I was for him.

  He lowered his head and took my nipple in his mouth. Gasping, I looked toward the ceiling. Instinct took over and I spread my legs even wider, beckoning him to touch me there. Somehow, Ben wriggled out of his own jeans as he worked my nipple with his lips and tongue. When he let go of my wrists, I held them behind my head anyway, loving the sensation of offering myself to him in such a shameless, wanton way.

  This wasn’t me. This was nothing like me. But it felt oh so good.

  Ben wore boxer briefs and the enticing bulge beneath them nearly did me in. I reached down, pulling at the waistband. Ben looked up, smiling. He slid out of his underwear and took a step back. I stayed in position, relishing in the idea of submitting totally to this man, this stranger, this wild thing.

  Ben reached down, grabbing his jeans off the floor. He took out his wallet. I brought my hands down and covered my eyes as a flood of embarrassment ran through me again. He pulled out a condom and ripped the package with his teeth. I should have thought of that. God, what if he hadn’t thought of that? I was so charged up I might have done something unforgivably careless.

  His cock was huge, veins bulged across the length of it as he rolled the condom over it. A part of me wished he’d waited. I had the overwhelming urge to go to my knees for him. Maybe later, I thought, and fresh desire flooded through me. What the hell was happening to me?

  When Ben came to me, I slid my han
ds over his shoulders and tilted my head for another of his bone-melting kisses. He didn’t disappoint. I devoured him as he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of my soaked panties and dragged them down. He was tall enough that even with me perched on the counter, I still had to arch my neck a bit to reach him. He slid his hands beneath my buttocks and edged me forward, angling me just how he needed me.

  “Please,” I gasped. God, it had come to begging. I really was shameless that night. He stirred me in ways I hadn’t allowed myself to think about in far too long. His rock-hard dick pressed against my leg and I reached for it. I closed my fingers around the thick shaft and started to guide him toward me. Ben spread my thighs even more, letting his thumb trail along my slick folds. His lips curved into a knowing smile as he sampled how wet I was for him.

  “You’re amazing,” he whispered. My lips found his again. I threaded my hands through his hair, sliding them along the curve of his skull. I wanted to be kissing him when he entered me, but Ben had other plans. He hooked his finger beneath my chin and brought my eyes up, locking his gaze with mine. God, it was even more erotic that way. He wanted to see my reaction as he slid inside of me. Facing him like that made it real instead of the fantasy I’d created in my mind. This was Ben. This was me. And in those few seconds, I’d never wanted another man more.

  Ben held my eyes as he pulled me forward, nudging my opening with the massive head of his cock. We’d reached the point of no return. Hell, we’d done that back in the parking lot. His brow furrowed, his eyes held one last question. Gasping, I gave him a frantic nod. Then Ben thrust inside of me. I cried out as he spread me wide. I’d never had anyone so big before. He reached places inside of me I didn’t know were there. Heat poured through my core, making my passage slick for him.

  Then Ben started to fuck me in earnest. His nostrils flared as he bucked his hips, driving himself deeper with each thrust. I brought my legs up, circling his waist. I was almost completely off the counter now, balancing just on my tailbone as Ben supported us both. We were nose to nose with our eyes wide open as he fucked me. Electricity seemed to spark between us as he drove deeper and deeper.