Page 73 of Perfect Vengeance

“No, but I put Kinsey in front of that speeding bullet.”

“Only time can erase the guilt you’re feeling right now. So give it some. Time, that is.” As if it were the most natural thing to do, his hands splayed over her breasts, massaging them lightly and rubbing his fingers over her tight nipples.

“Mmm.” She covered his hands with hers, urging him to continue. “That feels nice.”

Sure does.

She hooked her legs over the tops of his thighs. “Did you know Jim Spencer well?”

His hands stilled on her breasts. “Yeah.” He couldn’t explain why…maybe it was the beautiful woman draped over his body… His mouth opened and he began spilling his guts. “Jim was my trainee. He died on my watch because I sent him in undercover. Somehow they found out who he was.”

“And you feel responsible.”

“Of course I do. It was my fault he was killed.”

“Did you pull the trigger?” She twisted her neck to look at him. Even though he’d just thought the same thing, hearing his own words flung back at him was a slap in the face. It was on the tip of his tongue to regurgitate what he’d been torturing himself with for months. Jim was too inexperienced and Jack had been in too much of a hurry to get someone on the inside.

As he stared into Gina’s eyes, counting the gold flecks in her irises, the truth punched him in the gut. Jim wasn’t inexperienced. Maybe he didn’t have as extensive a UC resume as some of the older agents, but he had an outstanding record of UC busts. Jack had selected him because he was the right man for the job. “Maybe it wasn’t my fault,” he muttered, the first time he’d ever said those words, let alone actually believed them. Sometimes things just happened and cases went bad.

She settled back against him. “I guess we both made decisions we have to live with.”

He snorted. “Imagine that. A thief and an FBI agent having something in common.”

When she giggled, the vibrations sent a shaft of lust shooting to his dick. He reached for the soap, intending to rub it over every inch of Gina’s body.

“I told my friends the truth tonight,” she said. “That I had ulterior motives for stealing from the Falzones because…” She blew out a long, heavy breath. “Because Franco murdered my father.”

“What?” The soap slipped from his hand, splashing as it hit the water. He wasn’t aware of anyone with the last name Perot having been killed by the Falzones, and he pretty much knew everyone Franco was rumored to have taken out. How could he have missed that?

“Please, Jack.” She gripped his good wrist and turned in his arms. He couldn’t miss the fear burning in her eyes. “Don’t hold this against my friends. They thought we were stealing from the Falzones only to help the Center. They didn’t know about my personal reasons.”

Which explained a lot. Like her violent reaction to Franco at the fundraiser.

He let his head fall back against the bathtub rim. Gina’s confession didn’t change anything. No matter what they’d done, turning her and her friends in would serve no justice. When it came to the Falzones there might not ever be any justice.

“Who was your father to Franco?” he asked finally.

She sighed and settled back against his chest. “My father was… No one of importance, except to me and my mother.”

Hmm. Jack wanted to pepper her with more questions. Now wasn’t the time. She’d been through enough in the last twenty-four hours. Tomorrow he could dig into the FBI database and read the details for himself.

“How did your friends take it when you told them everything?” Well, he assumed. Before leaving the hospital, the four women had hugged, kissed, laughed, and cried like they’d be BFFs for all eternity.

“They told me they understood,” she said in a choked voice. “That they loved me and we’d always be family.” She shook her head as if she still didn’t believe it, and his heart melted a little bit more.

He gave her a gentle shake. “I told you to give them and yourself more credit.”

Like him, they’d both been through a lot. Unlike him, Gina had no parents left alive and no siblings. His isolation was of his own doing, but he always knew all he had to do was pick up the phone and talk to any one of his brothers or his mother and they’d be there for him in a heartbeat.

He snagged the bar of soap from the water, then slid it back and forth across her abdomen in slow, lazy circles. Spooning in a hot bath with her was hard enough; touching her this way could only go in one direction. With a groan, he shifted to ease his growing discomfort. Like that would help. But again, this wasn’t about him. It was about what she needed.

Gina raised her arms over her head, linking them behind his neck. She arched her back, pushing her beautiful breasts into his waiting hands as he skimmed the soap over taut, wet nipples and down her belly. He set the soap on the ledge, then thoroughly massaged her torso, grinding his teeth as he hardened even more painfully.

She unlinked her arms from around his neck, taking his good hand and guiding it down her slick body, under the water, to the juncture of her thighs. If she needed release, he was happy to give it to her. Even if it killed him not to sink deep inside her.

Using two fingers, he pumped into her, rubbing her swollen nub in slow circles with the pad of his thumb. When she began undulating and meeting his thrusts, water sloshed against the sides of the tub. With the fingers of his casted hand, he pinched one of her nipples and was rewarded with a throaty groan that made his balls so hard they were probably turning blue.

“Faster,” she moaned. “Faster.”