Page 198 of Scarlet Wars
“It better be,” I replied, edged with enough frost to make the air between us go taut.
Jackson raised both hands in mock surrender, an easy, apologetic smile tugging at his mouth as if he had no idea how he’d managed to piss me off; from the corner of my eye I caught Caden’s smirk, slow, indulgent, and clearly delighted by the way my defensiveness had already started doing most of his work for him.
“So, aside from Jackson’s obvious moral high-ground and tasteful squeamishness about mind-probing, is there any substantive reason we shouldn’t haul her in for questioning?” I asked, letting the rhetorical flourish hang in the air. “You know, maybe apply a little pressure, scare tactics, emotional amplification until she confesses or, I don’t know, implodes?”
Jackson’s expression tightened for a second, thoughtful and careful. “Rachel didn’t seem keen on us contacting her sister,” he said slowly, choosing his words like someone balancing explosives and diplomacy, “but that was then; it’s been months since the bubble went up, and honestly, it might be time we started being more proactive.”
“Agreed,” Caden said, the single word low, measured, and heavy with the kind of certainty that usually meant he already had a plan and zero intention of sharing it.
“Do you think Cara might also know who was behind my first warrant?” I asked. “If we’re right—and the person behind the bubble is friendly—they wouldn’t have branded me a terrorist.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call them friendly,” Jackson said, his tone rather severe. “If they imposed the bubble, they’re still responsible for the deaths of those kids in Cyclos.”
“I meant friendly to me. Not in general,” I muttered, heat creeping up my neck, feeling quietly scolded.
Jackson leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “I honestly don’t know. If you want answers to that, you’ll have to find the first warrant.”
I raised a brow and let out a sharp snort. “You don’t think I’ve been trying? It’s not like I can simply hack the US federal database and pull it up.”
Caden tilted his head, studying me. “You can’t,” he said evenly, “but Saoirse can.”
I blinked. “She can?”
How the hell did I not know this?
“Yeah,” he said, completely unfazed. “When we first learned you were on the run, she’s the one who figured out why. She dug it up. You should ask her.”
I nodded slowly.I will.
We talked for a few more minutes before Jackson finally stood, muttered something about checking in with Sean, and headed for the door.
He was barely out of the room when Caden scooped me straight out of my chair.
I yelped, clutching at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“You defended my honor,” he growled, voice dark and rough against my ear. “You have no idea how much I need to be inside you right now.”
I couldn’t help it, I giggled, then broke into a laugh when he tossed me onto the bed and started ripping my clothes like patience was a mortal sin.
“At the rate you’re going, I’m not going to have any clothes left,” I chided, glancing at the shredded remains of yet another buttonless shirt.
“I’m fucking devastated,” he rasped sarcastically, and then he kissed me hard, hungry, and with absolutely no room left for talking.
I didn’t need words either.
“You sore?” he muttered, voice thick with need and satisfaction.
“You care?” I teased, brushing my fingers down his chest.
He smirked. “Not enough to stop.”
I pushed him back, sudden and fierce, and he let me, his body hitting the mattress with a low, eager grunt. I climbed on top, straddling him, my thighs trembling from how wrecked he’d already made me.
His hands found my hips, but I grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.
“Then let’s play,” I whispered.
I tore open the button of his pants and freed his cock, thick and hard and already straining for me.
