Deadly Bounty: SCVC Taskforce Romantic Suspense Series, Book 11

by Misty Evans

  A beeping noise echoed through the room, jerking Sam out of the Joe-induced fog. He tensed, and murmured close to her ear. “Aw, shit.”

  The alarm he’d set to keep him on time. He drew back, glanced at his watch. “I’m late.” He kissed her on the end of the nose. “We will resume this later.”

  He reached for the shirt on the floor, now wrinkled. Jack-Jack appeared in the door and gave a bark, as if telling him to get a move on.

  Sam swore under her breath. She’d been this close to an orgasm and he hadn’t even gotten her out of her clothes. She tore the shirt from his hands and held it away from him. “Unh unh. You’re not going anywhere without the wire.”

  He started to argue, and Jack-Jack barked again, this time louder. He probably thought this was an invitation to play, but it distracted them for a second. When Joe’s gaze flicked back to her, he sighed loudly. “Fine, but make it quick.”

  She did. As she finished taping the mic to his chest, he said, “After the dinner, I have another meeting.”

  Tossing the wrinkled dress shirt in the laundry basket, she grabbed a turquoise blue button-down from the closet and handed it to him. “With who?”

  He set his jaw, gritting his teeth hard enough to make a tiny muscle under his cheekbone dance. “No one important. But I will be taking this mic off and earbud out, so don’t freak.”

  Warning bells rang in her head. “Oh, I see.” The bells triggered her stomach to flip flop as well. “This person wouldn’t happen to be the mistress you kicked out of here, would it?” She teased. Acting jealous might be the only way to find out the truth.

  “Oh, hell no. Let’s just say I have an idea and I want to follow it through.”

  He was being too secretive, and it didn’t sit well with her. She’d already forced him to wear the wire, how much more could she push?

  Returning to her side of the closet, she switched out her clothes for dark leather pants and a black t-shirt. “I don’t care who it is, I’m coming with you. I’ll stay in the car while you’re at Harris’s, then I’ll watch your back during whatever this other meeting is.”

  He yanked on dress shoes and shook his head. “You are not coming with me.”

  “Yes, I am.” She pulled the t-shirt over her head and shoved her feet in soft leather joggers “Ninja Sam is ready.”

  He walked by, the corner of his mouth quirking as he eyed her attire. “Ninja or not, you’re staying here.”

  Jack-Jack looked between them, stretching out on his front paws, tail in the air wagging. He thought they were still playing, and he was happy to join in. As Joe went to the bedroom door, Jack-Jack ran after him.

  So did Sam. Following Joe and the dog through the house, she smiled to herself. “You can’t make me stay here. Besides, it’s time for the Joe Cahill - Samantha Rosenthal team to resurrect their partnership.”

  At the front door, he snatched his keys and wallet from the hall table and stuck them in his pockets. “Sam…”

  She grabbed his arm, made him look at her. “I am going with you.”

  Sam couldn’t control him, couldn’t really control the situation, and she hated it. It was one thing to get herself into a pickle, but now Joe was in it with her, and she intended to do everything in her power to protect him. When the shit finally hit the fan, whatever the outcome, she needed to make sure the collateral damage to him was as little as possible.

  “There’s one thing,” she said. “No matter what happens, will you get a message to my mom?”

  It was subtle, but his face changed. A slight tension in his body shifted. For a second, she almost felt like he was throwing shutters over a window, trying to keep her from seeing a truth. “Of course.”

  “If something should happen to me—”

  His face hardened. “Nothing is going to. I promise.”

  His bravado was appreciated, but they both knew this was a no-win situation. Proving her innocence was growing harder than the already impossible task it’d been to begin with.

  “Every law enforcement officer in the country is looking for me, and ninety percent of them would love to put a bullet in me. Things happen, and if the person behind all of this wants to silence me, they’re going to make sure I never go to prison. That I never get to tell the truth about what I did and didn’t do.”

  He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off. “Just tell Mom I’m sorry for screwing up. Tell her…how much I love her, and I’m sorry for leaving her like dad.”

  Her dad had died unexpectedly, and not from any crazy situation like this, but simply because of a stupid drunk driver. All his life, all the dangerous missions he’d been on, to end up dying like that made her sick.

  Her mother had been devastated, never the same afterwards. The only people in the world she still trusted were Sam and her brothers. Mother and daughter had always been so close, and now Valerie Rosenthal didn’t have Sam either. Might never see her again.

  Joe faced her, grabbing both her arms with his strong hands and giving her a hard shake. “You’re going to tell her that yourself, and you’re not leaving her. You’re going to be together again, I swear it.”

  She couldn’t help herself, couldn’t deny how much she loved this man in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, making him even later.

  16

  “We can’t do this,” Sam said breathlessly, and Joe kissed her to shut her up.

  He planned to keep right on doing it so she couldn’t change her mind. Hell, he’d strip and do a Magic Mike impression—mesmerize her with his chest, abs, whatever—if he could keep her from second-guessing what they were about to do.

  He backed her against the foyer wall, rattling the mirror hanging there. Jack-Jack whimpered and Joe chased him off by throwing a nylon bone from the foyer table into the living room.

  As the dog happily scampered after it, Joe lifted Sam. Her legs went around his hips and he groaned at their fit, pressing his already hard erection into her.

  She broke from his kiss. “You’re going to wrinkle that shirt.” But her argument was weak since she was running her hands down his back and squeezing his ass.

  “There are a dozen more in the closet,” he told her.

  “So we can tear each other’s clothes off at least eleven more times and you’ll still have a decent shirt to wear to dinner.”

  He laughed, rocking his hard-on into her. “How about we just do this right here, right now.” He nuzzled her ear and loved how she arched into him. “Then again, later, a dozen times.”

  She gripped the lapels of the shirt and gave a yank, sending the buttons flying. Her eyes feasted on his chest, even with the mic taped to it. “I’m game if you are.”

  Her lips found his collarbone and he braced his hands on the wall behind her, keeping her pinned to it with his hips. He wanted inside her now, but they had so much time to make up for. He needed to make this last, give her everything she loved and more.

  Soft fingers trailed over his pecs, down his abdomen. She kissed his neck, ran her tongue over the muscles there. Her teeth nibbled his earlobe.

  He nearly exploded right there.

  “I’m sorry for leaving,” she whispered in his ear. “It was a huge mistake.”

  “Damn right it was.” He tugged the ponytail out and let the strands skim over his hands. He loved her hair. “But what’s done is done. I was wrong to insist you stop undercover work, but I was scared, Sam. Scared you’d get killed.”

  Her hand stroked the side of his face. “I know.”

  No more words were needed. They worked frantically at removing their clothes, Joe putting her down long enough to peel the yoga pants off her, kissing her thighs as he went. She ran her hands through his short hair and soon he had her against the wall again, his mouth finding the soft folds between her legs.

  The smell of her filled his nose, his tongue focusing on that sensitive nub of hers. She cried his name, arching and rocking, matching the tempo he built. Slipping two fingers
inside her, he relished her reaction, feeling her muscles grip him, the onslaught of her orgasm a speeding train rushing for the peak of the mountain. When it hit, she jerked hard, and he rode it with her, teasing it out.

  Her legs went weak, and he eased her to the floor, mouthing each breast in turn, licking all her sensitive spots. She shivered under his ministrations, then she begged for more.

  He obliged, bringing her to climax several more times with his fingers and mouth, until she claimed she couldn’t stand any more.

  She lied.

  Next thing he knew, he was on his back, the tile of the floor cool under his shoulder blades and butt. Sam straddled his straining erection, hovering over it for a long heartbeat and licking her lips before meeting his eyes and beginning to lower herself.

  Inch by teasing inch, she dragged it out, eyes half-lidded as they searched his. Her lips parted in an O, her sensitive skin engorged, squeezing his cock tight.

  He thought he’d burst from the slick, white heat of her as she worked his shaft with practiced skill. Hands on her breasts, he watched her face, loving how expressive she was with every stroke. Her long hair hung down, teasing his face.

  She braced her hands on his chest and began a slow, tantalizing dance, bringing him to the point of no return over and over. Each time he was at his edge, she’d back off just enough to string him along.

  He was a patient man, and he wanted to give her whatever she wanted, but he finally reached the breaking point.

  Gripping her hips with his legs, and protecting her upper body with his muscled arms, he twisted, putting her under him once again. He couldn’t hold back, and she didn’t want him to.

  She met every stroke as he ground into her, nails digging into his shoulders, head thrown back in ecstasy. Her hips rocked with his tempo, soft words of encouragement speeding both of them headlong into the abyss.

  He loved every inch of her beautiful body. Knew it better than he did his own. When he sensed her release coming, he kept his gaze locked on hers and lowered his mouth to kiss her.

  I love you, Sam, he tried to convey. I’m never letting you go again.

  The orgasm hit and she clamped her legs tight around his waist, crying his name once more, the force of it echoing through the house.

  Teasing it out for her, he found he couldn’t hold back any longer. He let himself plunge over the sweet edge of bliss with her.

  17

  Joe arrived late but hell if it wasn’t worth it.

  Thomas Mann greeted him at the door, ushering him in and taking the bottle of wine he’d picked up. Luckily, Cooper’s place was only a few miles from the safe house and there was a convenience store on the way. Sam had insisted he not show up emptyhanded.

  Yes, he’d caved and let her come. He feared if he didn’t, she’d find a way to follow him anyway. Right now, she was outside, probably casing the place and ignoring his orders to stay hidden in the car.

  Ronni brushed by him with several bowls of steaming rice and vegetables to set on a long, dining table. “Cahill,” she said with a nod.

  He was introduced to Nelson Cruz and Sophie Diaz. Cruz was part of the taskforce, Diaz was his wife and an FBI agent. Each held one of their twins and a bottle, so they all skipped shaking hands, since theirs were full.

  Mann led him to the kitchen. Cooper was on the patio grilling steak, Celina informed him, as she drew a beer from the fridge and handed it to him. Ronni made the formal introductions, but Celina gave Joe a hug as if they were old friends, before she began stirring what smelled liked seasoned chicken on the stove.

  A young boy chased a toddler past Joe’s legs, a tiny chihuahua barking at them as they raced through.

  “That’s Owen and Princess Via,” Thomas said. “They belong to Coop and Celina.”

  “And Thunder,” Ronni shoved a bowl of shredded lettuce at him. “The dog. Put that on the table, would you?”

  Beer in one hand, the lettuce in the other, Joe followed Mann to the dining room. An older guy in a wheelchair sat at one end, a woman who introduced herself as Eliza, and the man, her husband, as Bobby Dyer.

  “Your ex is in a boat-load of shit,” Bobby said, and Joe laughed, immediately liking him.

  “She is that.”

  Further discussion of Sam was forestalled when one of the twins spit up on Nelson and he hurriedly carried the baby—holding it at arm’s length—to the bathroom, while Via screamed at the top of her lungs over something Owen did and the dog went crazy barking. Although Joe did hear Sam list all the exits, just in case, and describe the layout of the house as if she were inside.

  With everyone distracted, he moved to look out a window and murmured, “You’re not in here, right? I told you to stay in the car.”

  Her reply was a soft laugh.

  The disarray and mayhem, along with the delicious smells of the food, triggered memories of his mom’s regular Sunday night dinners that he and his brothers were obligated to attend and never minded at all.

  Cooper walked in carrying a tray with still sizzling sliced steak. “Glad you made it, Cahill. Have a seat.”

  Celina appeared with the chicken, and the others helped carry in the rest, including soft tortilla shells, salsa, guacamole, and other condiments. “I decided to keep it easy,” Celina said, “so we’re doing a taco bar.”

  Nelson returned and the twins were placed in their car seats, Via in a high chair, and the others gathered around the table.

  Dishes were passed, and Joe loaded his plate. In his ear, he heard Sam complain. “I can smell the grilled meat. I’m jealous. Eat a taco for me, too.”

  Whatever else happened tonight, he was definitely going to enjoy the food.

  Stories about the kids and family life were shared, reminding Joe again of his own family. His mom had always been a big cook, and liked to feed her husband and three boys with similar meals.

  During a pause in conversation, Celina handed Via several crackers and eyed him. “Joe, your accent isn’t SoCal. Where are you from?”

  He swallowed and wiped his lips with his napkin. “Grew up on the east coast, mostly around D.C. and Virginia.”

  “How’d you end up here?” Thomas queried.

  “You know the Bureau. They sent me as far away from home as they could get, outside of Alaska or Hawaii.”

  All three of the FBI agents chuckled at the joke.

  “Why did you leave it for bounty hunting?” Eliza asked.

  He forced himself not to cringe at the term. She seemed genuinely interested, but Joe suspected someone had planted that question for her to raise.

  He smiled and sipped his beer. “I was getting burned out, and my brothers needed help. The first skip trace I did for free, but I found I liked it. I wouldn’t tell them that, of course, at least not for a while. But eventually, I took more and more cases, enjoying fugitive apprehension best, and when they offered me a full-time job, I accepted.”

  Ronni rose and went to the kitchen, bringing back the open bottle of wine and refilling her glass. She motioned, but no one else wanted any. “Seems a lot different than the Bureau.”

  “As an agent, I was in kidnapping. Searching for missing kids or tracking fugitives—it works the same for me. Guess I like the chase, and seem to have the skills to find people.”

  “Any luck hunting down Rosenthal?” Cruz asked. All eyes pinned Joe.

  “I found someone who’d seen her living under a bridge south of town, but it seems she hasn’t been there in days.”

  Ronni started to ask another question and Cooper cleared his throat. His gaze went to Owen and Via, and she shifted gears, taking the conversation back to something non-work related.

  Joe heard a whining sound and looked down to find the chihuahua at his feet. The dog’s big, brown eyes stared at him with an eagerness he’d seen in Jack-Jack. He was begging for food, and Joe tried to ignore him.

  They finished eating, discussing the weather, the latest shark sighting at the beach, and the Padres’ losing streak. Ev
entually, the meal wrapped up and Joe started helping Celina and Ronni clear plates.

  The twins had fallen asleep and Sophia laid them on a rug in the living room after Nelson and Thomas moved the coffee table out of the way. Thunder crawled between the babies and nestled down. Via started crying and Celina paced the hall, soothing her. Cooper mentioned she was cutting teeth and all the other parents nodded in understanding.

  Owen begged Cooper to go outside and toss a frisbee, the long days a boon to the boy. Thomas volunteered to do it and they took off, Thunder going with them.

  The atmosphere was definitely family-oriented. Everyone seemed at home in Cooper and Celina’s house, and as Ronni got a pot of decaf coffee going, Eliza and Sophia loaded the dishwasher, and Bobby cleaned the table.

  A platter of cookies was brought out, along with some mugs. Nelson sat next to Bobby and they began discussing a case the taskforce was working on.

  Cooper went out to clean the grill and cover it, and returned a few minutes later with Thomas and a laughing Owen.

  The boy snatched a cookie from the plate before Cooper chased him off to get ready for bed. Once the kid said goodnight to everyone, he disappeared to the back of the house. Celina, who’d apparently gotten Via asleep, came out and grabbed a cookie herself. “Fingers crossed she doesn’t wake until dawn.”

  Thomas slouched in a chair and spoke to Joe. “Glad you could come. We didn’t get to talk at the meeting the other day.”

  Joe resumed his original seat. “The life of an FBI agent,” he said good-naturedly. “You never know when things are going to break or you need to pick up a warrant.”

  “True that.” Ronni brought in a trivet and the decaf coffee. She helped herself to a cup and offered one to Bobby, who nodded.

  “What about me?” Thomas asked her.

  “Bobby broke that encrypted file for me today that I needed.” She sat and grinned at him. “And you’re capable of getting your own.”

  Cooper resumed his seat at the head of table. Joe had to laugh when Ronni poured him a cup and carefully slid it down to his end, while Thomas harrumphed.