Noah had winced at that. Yes, Peyton was safe—from the perp. Her real threat was from Noah himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was constantly on his mind. He desperately wanted to kiss her again. He fantasized about stripping her naked and worshipping her athletic body. He pushed the thoughts aside and told Owen to stay safe and check in when he could.
Noah had given the names on the suspect list to the office and they were running backgrounds, but he was doing some digging on his own. Ethan and Declan had called it a night and retreated to their rooms an hour ago. Peyton was lying on the couch watching a movie while he sat in a recliner with his laptop, digging for information.
He’d started with the stalker, Curtis Milburn, but had run into dead ends after he’d been released from the mental institution. Hopefully his office could dig deeper. Next, he’d moved on to Mark Hixon. Maybe it was Hixon’s obvious interest in Peyton that fueled Noah’s suspicions, but he got a bad vibe from the guy. His background was college basketball at a Division III school. He started four years and his numbers were mediocre. His degree was in Recreational Sports Management and he currently worked for the Chicago Parks Department. No red flags that Noah could find. No restraining orders taken out against him. He did have one arrest for public intoxication that was dropped when he agreed to community service. Noah wondered if that was how he’d gotten involved with volunteer coaching.
A cursory search of Earla Yount yielded an obituary. She’d overdosed on heroin two years ago. He removed her from the list and moved on to Sarah Sanderson, the woman who thought Peyton stole her career. After her failed third attempt at the Olympics, she quit swimming competitively. She was now married to a Jeff Buck and she coached at a high school in…Noah’s eyes widened. Schaumburg, Illinois. Not too far away. If Sarah found out Peyton was coaching nearby, it might’ve been the impetus to harass her with the medals and notes.
“Did you know—” He glanced over at Peyton and stopped. She was sound asleep. With her hands tucked beneath her cheek, her knees curled against her chest, she looked so young and beautiful. He vowed to never let anyone hurt her. Especially himself.
After shutting his computer down, he picked up the remote and clicked the television off, plunging the room into darkness. Then he slid his arms beneath her and lifted her to his chest.
“Noah?” Her voice was sleepy.
“I’ve got you.”
She sighed against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. The smell of fresh flowers mingling with the hint of chlorine assailed his nose. It was a uniquely Peyton smell, one that intoxicated him. He was afraid he was rapidly becoming addicted.
The house was quiet as he carried her up the steps to her room. Moonlight filtering through the window lit his path to her bed. He bent to place her on the mattress, but she didn’t let go of his neck, causing him to follow her down until he was lying on top of her. He groaned at the contact.
“Stay with me, Noah.”
Bad idea. Very, very bad idea. He’d just assured her brother that he was keeping her safe. If he leaned down now and pressed his lips to hers, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stop. She took the decision from him, using his indecision to tug his head down until they were kissing. And licking and nipping and sucking and he was lost. She tasted like the sweetest ambrosia. He couldn’t get enough. When she spread her legs and he settled against her, he knew there was no going back. He would make love to her.
He tore his mouth away to blaze a path down her slender neck. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured just before he made her shudder when he nipped beneath her ear and then soothed the mark with his tongue.
“You are too,” she said breathlessly, and he chuckled. “You are,” she insisted.
“Men aren’t beautiful,” he argued as he eased back to tug the t-shirt over her head. He sucked in a breath. “Damn. So pretty.” His thumbs brushed over the pink peaks that were begging for his attention. She wasn’t built like a centerfold model, but her breasts were perfect for his big hands and he told her so by fitting his palms around her.
She arched against his touch. “I’ve always thought they were too small.”
“Perfect,” he reiterated before lowering his mouth and tugging one turgid peak in his mouth. Her moans were sending sparks down his spine. Mistake, his brain tried to tell him, but he ignored it to move to the other breast. When her legs wrapped around his and she hauled him harder against her, he was lost.
“Noah,” she gasped, jerking at his t-shirt. With a hand behind his head, he yanked it off and tossed it aside. She made a hum of approval as she ran her hand over his chest.
He had just enough control left to lurch back and ease the black yoga pants down her legs. He had to pause and stare at her lying naked on the sheets, her long hair fanning around her face. She was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. Fingers attacking the button on his jeans snapped him out of his trance. He helped her work the zipper down and then he was kicking them off, snagging them in the air to grab the condom out of his pocket. He wasn’t sure why he’d put it there—he hadn’t planned on this. He should just walk away right now. It would be the right thing to do.
“Oh, my.” The words were whispered reverently as she stroked him. He knew nothing short of a nuclear bomb would make him leave.
He ripped the wrapper with his teeth and then nudged her fingers aside to sheath himself. He needed to be inside her before he exploded like a teenager. Coming down over her, he locked their hands together beside her face and stared into her lovely eyes. “Ready?”
At her nod, he eased inside her, both of them groaning at the contact. She was so tight and hot. His eyes rolled back in his head. When he was fully seated, he stopped to gaze at her again. Her eyes were closed, her ruby lips curved into a smile. Then she locked her legs around him again. It was the prompt he needed as he drove into her with all the pent-up lust he’d carried around for her for years. He’d always known sex with Peyton would be incredible, but he never imagined it’d be life changing.
#
Peyton had to bite her lip from screaming out Noah’s name. She didn’t want to wake the others, or let them know what they were doing, but, holy heck, she was coming apart. Fracturing into thousands of tiny pieces. The sensations were incredible. This was Noah and it was more intense than she’d ever dreamed. He was huge and she had a moment of panic, wondering if he’d fit, but it was wiped away as soon as he slid into her. She’d already shattered once and was on the verge of number two. She didn’t want the feelings to ever stop.
Noah, Noah, Noah, her heart cried with each thrust until she was hurtling over the edge again, her back bowing and her head thrown back in ecstasy. He didn’t give her time to luxuriate in pleasure, rolling them until she was straddling him.
From this position, she was in control and she smiled. His gaze locked onto hers as his hands cupped her breasts, his big thumbs rubbing her sensitive nipples. She’d always been self-conscious of her B’s, but he made her feel like a porn star. Then his hands moved until he was gripping her waist, lifting her and slamming her down at the same time he thrust upward.
Her neck couldn’t hold her head upright as the feelings swamped her. “Supposed…to be…me in charge,” she gasped.
“Next time,” he gritted out.
Then his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves between her legs and she couldn’t hold back the scream this time when she shattered. He rolled them again and covered her mouth with his. She was too overcome with pleasure so intense, she couldn’t even be outraged at the smile she felt against her mouth or the deep chuckle against her chest that cut off abruptly when she tightened her inner muscles. The laugh turned into a groan and he lost control, slamming into her before his body tightened, the veins in his neck standing out in stark relief as he gritted his teeth and found his release. She committed the look to memory. Male perfection.
He collapsed on top of her. She didn’t get a chance to bask in the feel of him as he rolled
and tucked her against him. She mourned the loss when he pulled free of her, but she’d never been so happy in her life, and that included winning her first gold medal. Hum. Something to think about later when she had all her faculties back.
“Was that two times or three?” he rumbled against her neck and she could feel another smile in his voice.
“None of your business,” she said haughtily.
This time the chuckle vibrated against her entire back where she was pressed up against him. She wiggled deeper against him and the chuckle turned into a groan. She smiled. Victory.
Chapter Twelve
Declan unbuckled his seat belt as Ethan parked the SUV across the street from Jamal’s run-down apartment complex. The others would have a view of the back of the unit, but he and Jamal would be going in through the front door. He did a quick comm check to make sure they stayed in contact. All good.
Declan glanced over at Jamal. The boy practically vibrated with nervous tension. Declan wished he could reassure him everything would be okay, but he knew from experience that it might not be true, and he didn’t want to lie to him.
He scanned the area as they made their way across the street and around the side of the building to the front. The place was gang central, with several of the apartments tagged with gang signs and obscene graffiti. The odor of rotting garbage and burnt food mingled into a sickly stench that permeated the area. He sympathized with Jamal. He’d lived in places worse than this growing up.
The door was unlocked when Jamal turned the knob. He followed the boy inside and had to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Threadbare curtains blocked the light from two windows. The stench inside was as bad as outdoors. This time, it was body odor, spoiled milk and, if he wasn’t mistaken, crystal meth. It looked like a tornado had blown through, leaving mass destruction in its wake. Trash and clothes were strewn haphazardly across the living room. Beer cans and empty food containers littered the coffee table.
He glanced inside an open door to find a man and woman lying unconscious on a bed. The man was spread eagle, face up and completely naked. Drug paraphernalia was scattered across two dressers on either side of the bed. He detoured inside to check pulses and had to breathe through his mouth as the scents of unwashed bodies, urine, vomit and meth collided. Both people were alive but passed out.
“That’s my mom,” Jamal said quietly from beside him. “I don’t know who he is.”
At least Jamal’s mom was clothed, if barely in a dirty bra and underwear. Poor Jamal. He was such a sweet kid and he deserved the chance to grow up in an environment free of violence and drugs. Hopefully his aunt would be able to provide that for him. When Jamal turned his back, Declan snapped pictures of the drugs and the state of the adults in the house. He’d take some of the interior, too, and pass them along to Jamal’s aunt in case she had any trouble gaining custody.
He backed out of the room and closed the door. Jamal didn’t need to see this again. The boy guided him to his room, which was surprisingly neat considering the rest of the apartment. Even the bed was made. Jamal dug a backpack from under the bed and stuffed it with the belongings he wanted to keep, which wasn’t much. Declan wished he could do more for him. The first thing Jamal reached for was the bag of swimming gear Peyton had given the children in the swim class. Jamal told him all about the equipment and how nice Peyton was and how much she encouraged him. Judging from the hero worship, Jamal would really miss her.
Jamal shot a furtive glance at him and he pretended to be engrossed in the Secret Life of Pets poster on the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy cram a brown bear into his backpack and Declan hid a smile. Yogi.
“Ready?”
Jamal looked around the room one last time. “Yes.”
Declan followed him from the room and almost mowed the boy over when he came to an abrupt stop.
“You little piece of shit. I raised you. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Declan’s gaze snapped to the man brandishing a gun. His other hand covered a wound in his stomach. His shirt was saturated with blood and he looked weak. Still, the weapon pointed directly at Jamal never wavered.
“Do you think I’ll just let you leave? I own you.”
Declan dove for Jamal, slamming him into the ground as a shot rang out. A stab of white-hot pain pierced his hip, but he ignored it to cover the boy with his body. When no more bullets pierced his body, he twisted around to see the man who’d shot him slumped against the wall, his head dangling from his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” he asked Jamal.
“I think so,” he wheezed. “That was my brother. He tried to kill me.”
Declan levered himself off to help the boy up when an unholy scream sounded and a pain unlike any he’d ever felt before slammed into his skull, causing his brain to explode.
#
“That was a gunshot,” Noah said, throwing open his door. Ethan was already outside headed for the apartment.
“Stay here and lock the doors,” he ordered Peyton when she reached for the handle. She looked like she wanted to argue, but thankfully she nodded and stayed put.
They waited impatiently for a break in traffic and then dashed across the street. Using hand signals, they approached the apartment, each taking up on either side of the door. A woman across the way watched them suspiciously. Noah ignored her as they burst inside.
His eyes took in the scene. Declan was down and a woman stood over him with a baseball bat. Jamal was frantically trying to stop her. “Drop it,” he ordered.
“Mom, stop!” Jamal screamed.
The woman’s wild eyes darted around the room. “He was trying to kidnap my kid,” she slurred.
“No, he wasn’t,” Jamal yelled. “He’s my friend.”
“We won’t tell you again,” Ethan said, his voice low and lethal. “Drop the bat.”
The woman swayed and her arms gave out before she stumbled to the sofa and face planted. Noah ran for Declan and slid to the floor beside him. Blood pooled beneath his head and lower body. He was unnaturally still. Through the comms, it sounded as if someone had shattered a melon with a sharp blow. A huge knot already formed on Declan’s head. Noah searched for a pulse, relieved to find one, even though it was weak.
He looked over at Ethan, who was checking the man slumped against the wall. Jamarcus, Jamal’s older brother who’d been involved in the gunfight yesterday. Noah subtly shook his head. He was dead.
“We need to get Declan to a hospital.” They didn’t have time to wait for an ambulance, so he scooped him up into a fireman’s hold and dashed for the SUV. The man was solid, but Noah had carried heavier loads in his SEAL days. Still, he made sure to use the shoulder that wasn’t injured. Ethan and Jamal followed on his heels.
Peyton had the back door open and waiting for him. Ethan helped slide Declan inside, careful of his various injuries. Jamal climbed up beside him and emphatically shook his head when Noah instructed him to sit beside Peyton and buckle up. They didn’t have time to argue, so he shut the door and hopped into the passenger seat. The GPS gave them directions and soon they were turning into the hospital parking lot. Ethan drove beneath the portico of the emergency room entrance. Peyton hopped out and ran inside the building. Noah removed the comm from Declan’s ear and then his main gun. Ethan removed a backup piece from one ankle and a knife from the other before locking the weapons into the glove box.
Peyton returned quickly with an orderly and a gurney. Ethan and Noah carefully loaded Declan on the stretcher and then he was whisked away.
“I want to go with him,” Jamal cried.
“Hon, they need to work on him,” Peyton said gently, squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll visit him as soon as they patch him up.”
Ethan ran off to park the SUV while the three of them found the waiting room. A nurse came over and handed Noah a clipboard with an information sheet to fill out for Declan. Noah stared at the form. He knew next to nothing about the man except for his
name and cell phone number. He didn’t even know if he had family they should notify.
Ethan dropped into a chair next to him. “I snagged his wallet to look for an emergency contact.”
“Good thinking.”
Ethan flipped through but didn’t find anything. Noah scrolled through the contact list on Declan’s phone, but there was no way to know which numbers belonged to family members. A thought struck and he called BeBe Davis.
“Hey, Noah, how’s it going in Chi-town?”
“Not great.” He stood up and paced away from the others to tell her about the incident at Jamal’s apartment. He didn’t want the boy to feel any guiltier. He already looked like he would break down at any moment.
“Is Declan going to be okay?”
“I’m not sure. He was hit pretty hard. I’m calling to see if he listed an emergency contact on the eForm he filled out.”
“Hang on.” There was a short pause and then BeBe said, “Yes, an Eric Bishop. The relationship is foster brother.”
He wrote down the number she recited. “Thanks, BeBe.”
“Keep us posted.”
“Will do.” He disconnected and then dialed the number for Eric Bishop. It rang three times before it was answered with a suspicious hello. He was probably uncertain whether to answer an unknown caller since the COBRA Securities phones didn’t show up on caller ID.
“Mr. Bishop? My name’s Noah Addison. I—”
“What happened to Declan?”
So much for niceties. “There’s been an incident. He was injured.”
“How bad.” The tone was grim.
“I’m not sure. He was hit over the head and took a bullet in the hip. The doctors are with him now.”
“Which hospital.” Noah gave him the name. “I’m on my way.” The line disconnected. He headed back to the trio, nodding at Ethan to let him know he’d found a contact.
A tall man with dark hair was striding towards them. He detoured to shake Blake Caldwell’s hand. He’d instructed Peyton to call the detective while he and Ethan retrieved Declan and Jamal.
Golden Girl Page 15