Love and Let Die

Chapter Two

Ian gritted his teeth and promised himself he wouldn’t ever forgive his bitch goddess wife, but fuck, she knew how to suck his cock. He couldn’t remember how many blow jobs he’d received over the course of his lifetime, but he knew how many he’d had from his Charlie.

Charlotte. Her fucking name was Charlotte Denisovitch, and she was an information broker and she was back here to use him the same way she’d done it before. It didn’t matter that she’d given him fourteen blow jobs, each one a searing memory in his head because she’d done it with such sweet submission. She’d been hesitant at first, but then her enthusiasm had overwhelmed him. There had been joy in the act, not a simple exchange of pleasure.

She ran her tongue down his cock, lighting up every inch of his flesh. He watched her red and gold hair as it covered his thighs, and he wanted to shove his slacks away so he could feel how soft it was. He was utterly fascinated with it. It gleamed in the low light. He’d thought she was gorgeous before, but there was an odd confidence to the woman in front of him that was even sexier.

Most of the subs he’d fucked in the last couple of years would have cried if he’d used that tone of voice on them, but, no, Charlie just growled right back. There had been no scurrying away in the hopes of finding some kinder Master. Charlie knew what she wanted and she didn’t back down.

It was what had attracted him to her in the first place. She was a mix of vulnerability and predator, and he just couldn’t fucking resist her.

He let his head fall back.

“Do you want to make it last, Master?” Charlie asked between long swipes along his cock.

She was the only one who had to ask. He had control of himself. It was his stock-in-trade. He would come when he wanted to come. He always did. Except when Charlie went wild on him, and then he was in her world and she could take him places he’d never been.

He was going to have to show her that he wasn’t the same idiot she’d duped before. He slid his hands into that heavenly strawberry blonde hair and fisted all that silk. “You stop talking.”

Every word that came out of that lying mouth of hers brought him closer to the edge. He was not going to end up in bed with her. He wasn’t. He was going to control this encounter, this little bit of revenge, before he dumped her back in the yard and got on with his life.

His heart felt like it was squeezing inside his chest. She was alive. Charlie was alive. She was here and warm and soft and willing.

He shut that shit down fast. There would be absolutely no heart issues or weird, twisty gut flip-flops. She’d lied to him. She’d used him. She’d damn near gotten Liam killed. She’d cost all of them years of their lives.

He hated her. He fucking hated her with every bit of passion he’d once put into loving her.

“Take me. Take me deep.” If he allowed her to control the scene, she would play with him for hours. He knew damn well what she was doing. She was attempting to reforge a bond with him, the one they had found in Europe, the one that had been made strong with hours and hours of sex, with days spent lazing in bed and learning every inch of the other’s body.

He wasn’t wasting that kind of time again.

She swallowed him down. Again, she wasn’t a petite and delicate flower. No. When Charlotte decided to take a man deep, she forced him down. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. The pleasure was so forceful. Charlotte closed her mouth around him and worked him down with a pointed deliberation. All the while, that hand of hers was cupping his balls softly, playing with him.

Her tongue worked the underside of his cock, laving it with affection. Ian guided her up and down, using her hair to force her to take more.

Charlie just moaned around his cock, not a sound of pain, but one of pleasure. She’d loved him pulling on her hair. She had the sweetest touch of masochist inside her. She got hot from hair pulling and spanking, and she would light up when he nipped at her skin.

His cock was swelling, getting ready to shoot off. The heat from her mouth was more than he could take. His skin was too tight, his heart beating too fast. She was too much. Always too much.

She didn’t fight him, simply allowed him to fuck her mouth. She didn’t complain or prevaricate. A low hum began in the back of her throat, the sound transferring to his cock.

He wouldn’t be able to last. No matter how much he tried to control the scene.

Soft heat enveloped him, making his spine curl and balls draw up.

“Give it to me, Master,” Charlie said against his cockhead before she moved back down his dick.

She didn’t wait for him this time. She took him whole, working him to the silky place at the back of her throat. She held him there and then swallowed.

It took everything he had not to shout out as he came. It felt like it had been years since he’d shot off, like he’d been starving for this, dying for it.

He pressed into her mouth, giving her his come, what seemed like an endless stream.

Finally, he fell back against the chair. His body felt limp, drained, wrung out, but in the most pleasant of ways.

Charlie licked him clean. Her tongue didn’t stop because the come had. She suckled him softly, and just like that he felt the pressure start to build again.

He was not going for round two.

Ian forced himself to sit up. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

He called all the subs sweetheart because most of the time he couldn’t remember their names. He was going to put Charlotte firmly in the same category as the other women he’d screwed and forgotten along the way.

Of course, there had been a contract in place with those other women. Fuck. He’d just had sex and he hadn’t negotiated anything.

He needed to get her out of here.

“Master?” Charlie turned her eyes up when he stood and buttoned up his slacks.

There was no point in correcting her. She would just do it again. No. There was very little point in arguing or fighting with Charlotte. She was deeply stubborn, and he wasn’t willing to discipline her. That was a very bad idea. He leaned over and scooped her up into his arms.

Charlotte gasped a little, but then her arms were around his neck and a soft look hit her eyes. “You won’t regret it, babe. God, I missed you.”

“I never regret anything, sweetheart.” A blatant lie, but he was good at those. He was also going to enjoy the next couple of minutes. Charlie thought she had him right where she wanted him.

Instead of walking down the hallway to his private dungeon space or his bedroom, he turned back to the front door.

Charlie frowned. “Ian, don’t do this. Talk to me.”

He just kept walking. “I have nothing to say to you. Like I explained before, you tend to lie. You’re a very accomplished liar. The only thing you’re better at than lying is whoring.”

Her face went red and despite the fact that she was in his arms, she managed to plant a fist firmly in his face.

Yeah, that kind of got him hot, too. Charlie wouldn’t cry when she could lash out.

“You are a fucking asshole, Ian Taggart.”

“You’re just getting that?” He’d been called so much worse. He would take the decent right hook again because watching her get pissed was one of the few joys to come from this ill-conceived reunion. “I thought you were a big time information broker. Maybe you should rethink your career.”

“Let me down now.”

“Not until you’re on the right side of the door, sweetheart.” He managed to get the front door open even as she struggled against him.

The night was humid, heat slamming into him as he strode down his driveway.

“This is stupid, Ian. You have to listen to me.”

His inner asshole was getting a serious workout tonight. “If you wanted me to listen, you should have held out on the hummer. I have what I wanted. I see zero reason to help you out now. Really, Charlotte, you should know by now to get the money upfront.”

He set her on her feet and immediately had to duck another flying fist. She feigned right and then came at him from the left. Luckily, he still remembered how to fight. He caught her fist in his palm and held her there. He didn’t show it, but everything about her excited him. He was already rock hard not five minutes after he’d come.

“Don’t you call me a whore again, Ian.” Her body was practically vibrating with rage.

“I call it like I see it.” She thought she was mad? He could give her mad. “How much did Nelson pay you to fuck me the first time? He’s not going to get his money’s worth this time because that was all the connection I intend to have with you. Been there, done that and all.”

He let her go. If she tried it again, he would have her on the ground, but then she would know what a liar he was because his cock was painfully hard despite the blow job. If he got her on the ground, he might just fuck her right then and there.

She backed up slightly, giving him a little space. “You are going to regret every filthy word that is coming out of your mouth. Do you think you can scare me away by calling me a whore and saying the sex was meaningless? Try again. Because while I might be an excellent liar, you’ve lost your edge, Taggart. Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit. You know you’re going to talk to me. You know you want to find out what happened.”

The jibe about losing his edge hit too close to home. She was the reason he’d lost his edge. She was the reason he’d gotten out of the game in the first place. “I know what happened. I got led around by my dick and a two-year operation went up in flames. Do you know how many people you nearly got killed? Liam almost died because of you.”

She softened. “I know. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that. Let’s go inside, Master.”

He turned and started back up the drive. He wasn’t doing this with her. “Find your own ride home. I’m all out of charity for the night.”

“Charity? You call me giving you the blow job of a lifetime charity?” She was on his heels, obviously not willing to give up.

He turned because she was right back in his trap. Despite what she said, he did know exactly how to hurt her. She could lie all day about her reasons, but she’d been honest when she submitted. She’d been honest about what hurt her as a woman. “Yes, it was charity. I’m not attracted to you. I was attracted to your innocence, well, to the lie of your innocence the first time around. Now I know just who and what you are, and I have no interest in fucking a criminal. Did you take over daddy’s enterprise? Is that what Nelson promised you? Did he off your dear pops so you could be the queen? You cried about all the times daddy hurt you. I wonder now. Maybe you liked it.”

He knew the moment he’d gone too far. Even in the moonlight he could see how she paled and her hands started to shake. She couldn’t fake that reaction. When her hand came out to connect with his face, he let it, holding still for her.

He deserved it. Guilt gnawed in his gut, but he wouldn’t apologize. He wouldn’t back down. “Go home, Charlotte. There’s absolutely nothing for you here.”

He closed the door between them, locking it again. Tomorrow he would redesign his whole security system because he obviously wasn’t paranoid enough. But for tonight, he had a bottle of Scotch calling his name.

And he knew just what he wanted to listen to.

* * * *

Charlie bit back a cry as she watched the door slam shut.

And then she forced herself not to walk right up to it, beat it down, find her asswipe husband, and tear the balls right off his body.

That would teach him not to call her a whore again.

Damn it. Except by definition she had been one before. She’d agreed to distract Ian Taggart in exchange for her and her sister’s safety, and she’d taken the money Nelson had given her afterwards. She hadn’t used it quite the way he’d wanted her to, but she’d used it all the same.

She didn’t feel like a whore. She felt like a woman who had just had the world ripped out from under her.

How could he say those things about her father? Tears welled, a crushing sorrow drowning out the rage. Ian had been the only person on the planet she’d told about what her father had done to her. She’d hidden much of the truth even to her sister. She’d trusted him, and he’d thrown it right back in her face.

Could she have been wrong? She’d been so sure that once she’d helped out his friends and brought him good intelligence that he would sit down and listen to her.

Her phone trilled. She sniffled, trying to banish the tears. There would be time for them later. When she was safely in her room high above the city, she could cry and wail and let it out, but she wasn’t safe now. She flipped the phone to answer. “Chelsea?”

“You’ve just had a mega shit ton of hits on your personal information. Someone is looking for Charlotte, not Kris.”

Well, she’d known they would figure it out sooner or later. She’d left a few threads undone that a smart man could follow.

“I’m sure it’s Adam.” Adam Miles was Ian’s computer guy and a very smart man. She knew it had only been a matter of time before he tracked her down. “He’s the one who’ll be looking.”

“Then he’s the one I’ll be sending in circles. Again.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in Chelsea’s voice. She did enjoy a challenge. She and Adam had gone a couple of rounds during the Florida op.

“He’s good.” Adam had worked with her on the Michael Evans takedown. He didn’t know it yet, but he’d already tangled with Chelsea.

For all the good it had done her.

“I’m better,” Chelsea said.

Charlie sighed. “Let him in. It doesn’t matter now. They’ve figured it out. I bet they finally found the recording of the night I downloaded their copy machine.”

It was how she’d figured out everything about them. It had been an operation she’d been more than happy to complete.

“Why didn’t you erase it?”

Because she’d always kind of hoped he would come looking for her. “It doesn’t matter now. It looks like we won’t use the new IDs the way I planned.”

She’d had new identities crafted for both of them. Her uncle had been quiet for a while. She wouldn’t have come after Ian if she’d thought there was a ton of heat on her. Her plan had been to come into town and try to work things through with Ian. Then she could hide here under a new identity and she would keep her nose clean and her uncle would lose interest in punishing her.

“What are you saying, Charlotte?”

She didn’t want to go over all the ways she’d screwed up. “I have to hike back to my car and then I’ll come home.”

“Are you done stalking the big guy? Because we need to move on.” Chelsea wasn’t exactly on board with Charlie’s plans to win Ian back. Since her sister had come into her own, Chelsea seemed to think they didn’t need men.

Charlie looked back at the house. Ian had done well for himself. His house was big and sturdy, like the man himself. She’d expected him to be in a condo like hers. No fuss. No muss. But no, Ian Taggart’s home had a big yard and trees. It looked like a family could live there.

But it wouldn’t be her family.

She felt like he’d just ripped her heart out. Was this the way he’d felt when he’d discovered her betrayal? She’d worked so hard to become a woman who was worthy of him, but maybe there were some things she couldn’t come back from.

“Charlotte? Shit. You saw him, didn’t you? What did he do? Because I’m three keystrokes away from getting him institutionalized. I can have him put down like a rabid dog.”

“Don’t you dare.” As mad as she was, she understood. If he’d done the same thing to her, she might have called him all sorts of names, too.

Chelsea’s voice softened. “Charlotte, I know you loved the man, but we can’t stay here forever.”

“The condo is secure.” She’d made sure of it.

“Nelson has eyes everywhere, and he would love to slit your throat, big sister. He isn’t the only one. If Taggart isn’t interested in a reunion, then we should head out. Why don’t we sell the Florida condo and go to Europe for a while? Or the Caribbean. I could use a tan.”

“No, don’t sell the Palm Coast property. Put it in Alex’s name. Alex and Eve McKay.” They had fallen in love again at her condo on the beach. She’d watched them and they had given her so much hope. Just because she’d fucked up didn’t mean they should lose out.

It was over. He was too stubborn, too brutally slavish to his own code of conduct. He’d broken his rules for her once, but he wouldn’t again.

Maybe it was time to move on.

And then she heard it. A familiar wail of guitars and drums and Axl Rose’s voice blaring from inside the house.

One single memory flared to life. Ian spreading her wide and taking her for the first time, his face so serious as he worked over her. She’d held on to him for dear life, and when he was done, she’d known that she’d been caught in her own trap. She’d lain in his arms, this one song echoing from the club below.

Sweet love of mine

He had forgotten nothing if he was listening to that song. Not a single moment. All these years had passed and he was still listening to their song the same damn way she did, as though it could connect them across the distances.

It was so not over.

“Chelsea, I will murder you horribly if you harm a hair on his head.” She was the only one allowed to do that.

A low huff came over the line. “Way to talk to your baby sister.”

Her baby sister had become a shark with six rows of teeth, perfectly capable of ruining a man’s life without ever leaving her keyboard. “He’s my husband. He might be a dipshit, but he’s mine, and I will protect him so don’t think you can manipulate this situation. We’re not leaving. If that means I have to deal with a few assassins, then bring them on. Find Nelson for me. I need a full report on everything we have on him.”

Because she was planning a little meeting for her new team. An unnatural optimism came over her. Her first plan hadn’t gone gangbusters, but there was always another plan. The one she had in mind was absolutely certain to make her husband stand up and notice.

And potentially throttle her, but, hey, a girl had to take a few chances in life.

“I have to go. Get that report ready. I’ve got a meeting in the morning.” She caught a glimpse of Ian through his curtains as she hung up on her sister. He had a bottle in his hand. Damn it. He was going to make a long night of it.

He probably needed backup. Charlie was in the mood to confess.

She dialed Sean Taggart and was happy when he immediately answered.

“Kris? Is this you? Because we need to talk. What the fuck is going on? Do you know what Adam is claiming?”

She was so glad she’d kept the number she’d given him. Typically she tossed a phone after an op, but she’d kept her Florida line. It made things easier. She was pretty sure she knew what Adam was telling everyone. “Hello, Little Tag. We definitely need to talk, but tonight Big Tag needs you more than me. He’s getting drunk off his ass because his wife just returned from the dead. You should probably get over here. Oh, and tell Grace I said hi. She looked really beautiful tonight.”

“What?” Sean’s voice shouted over the line.

Family counseling might be in their future. Maybe Eve had an opening. “Yeah, Ian might not have told you about me, brother, but I would make a bet that Adam is hunting down all the facts even as we speak. But seriously, he needs you tonight. As for tomorrow, tell the team I’ll see them bright and early. I have intel on Eli Nelson. I’ll need a conference room and a copy machine. Don’t worry, I know where they keep those.”

She could practically hear Sean’s frustration over the line. “Kris, you need to explain this to me right fucking now.”

“No time. And the name’s not Kris. It’s Charlotte. Charlotte Taggart and I need to get my beauty rest because I’m going to have to run McKay-Taggart in the morning. Ian’s going to be too drunk and Alex is on his honeymoon. Talk to you soon.”

She hung up on her brother-in-law and turned the phone off just as it started ringing again.

Charlie began the long walk to her car thinking about how nice it was that Texas was a community property state. It was about time she laid claim to her half.