“Thank you, Sir.”
His finger suddenly pushed into her channel.
“You like following orders and being dominated,” he muttered, his lips suddenly at her ear. “You like a man being in charge, don’t you, Elizabeth? Tell the truth.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“It’s hard to find.”
“Explain,” he demanded, plunging his finger in and out.
“Men, I push and they, uh, they back down,” she managed, though his salacious attention was making it difficult to focus.
“You pushed me on the yacht, and what happened, Elizabeth?”
“You spanked me, Sir.”
He withdrew his finger and began massaging her clit. “I will again, you know that, don’t you, Elizabeth?”
“Ooh, yes, Sir.”
His hands clutched her breasts.
As he ravenously sucked in her nipples, she longed to lift her chest and throw her arms around him, but she could only wiggle. But the frustrating bondage fed her arousal.
He suddenly fisted her hair. “Be still.”
His demand sent goosebumps popping across her skin.
His lips were on hers, fervently crushing her mouth as his tongue darted between her teeth. The all-consuming kiss seemed to reach into her soul, sweeping her into a whirlwind of fiery passion. She ached to tell him how much she needed his body pressed against hers, and his cock thrusting inside her. But more than anything, she longed to tell him how much she needed him in her life.
“I know,” he breathed…
* * *
You like her. You like her a lot.
Jack’s remark rattled through Scott’s brain.
He didn’t just like her.
He cared.
Deeply.
Hearing she’d been a second away from triggering a trip wire had made him reel.
He’d do anything to keep her out of harm’s way.
Anything.
But it wouldn’t be easy.
She was a platform diver.
An undercover DEA agent.
A risk taker and adrenalin junkie.
She was like him.
They were connected, and he’d just heard her silent yearning.
Leaving the bed and moving to his closet, he unlocked a black metal case, and returned with a thrusting, vibrating dildo. Placing it against her drenched passage, he pressed the remote control. The head began to thrust forward and buzz. As she let out a startled cry, he straddled her chest, leaned forward, and slid off the blindfold. Her eyes sparkled up at him.
“Open your mouth.”
She did as he said, but slowly, and licking her lips.
The simple act sent the blood rushing through his loins.
Grabbing his cock, he moved it slowly between her teeth into the warm, wet cavern. Her tongue danced deliciously against him. Suddenly wanting her fingers around him, he reached above her head and yanked on the rope. The slip knot gave.
“Hold me while I fuck your mouth.”
The cord still dangling from her wrists, she clasped his stiffened member.
Letting out a groan, he began to pump.
Her lips pursed around him with every downward stroke.
Only a few minutes passed before the intoxicating pleasure became overwhelming. He was about to slow down and hold back, but her fingers tightened, and her deep moans grew louder.
Suddenly, with a muffled shriek, her body shuddered.
His cock abruptly exploded, jerking violently as spasm after spasm sent exquisite sensations rippling through his body. Just when he thought he was about to pass out, the intense convulsions dissipated, then lapsed. Breathlessly pushing the dildo away from her pussy, he flopped beside her.
“Hey,” he panted, bringing her into his arms, “are you okay?”
“I… uh… I feel really close to you,” she whispered. “That might not be a good thing.”
“Me too,” he said softly, tightening his hold, “and it is. It’s a very good thing.”
* * *
Sonny Conchello’s foul mood had worsened.
The voluptuous prostitute the night before had been irritating. Her tits were big, but as fake as her clawed fingernails, and she had to bounce on his cock for half an hour before he’d finally climaxed.
Checking the tracker on the money after she’d left, he found it had mysteriously disappeared, then listening to his messages, he learned Dan Miller had been arrested and the police chief was keeping him overnight.
No money was mentioned, and Dan’s apprehension didn’t explain the tracker falling off the grid. He’d tried to call David Clark, but the bastard hadn’t picked up.
Downing shots of tequila to take the edge off, he’d managed to fall asleep, only to wake up to more bad news.
David had vanished.
He’d summoned Ewen, the gritty guy from down under.
Now drinking strong coffee, pacing on the spacious patio overlooking the bay, Sonny’s thoughts turned to Beth. Though he knew her real name was Elizabeth, Beth was the name he’d used for almost a year, and he wasn’t about to change it.
When Sonny had asked Jim Parker about her, Jim had said he had no knowledge of an agent by the name of Beth Cameron or Elizabeth McKay.
Jim had been on the payroll for years.
Why would he lie?
Unless he had a thing for the girl.
Anything was possible.
“You wanted to see me?”
Turning around, Sonny motioned Ewen to join him.
“I have a few problems,” Sonny began as Ewen approached. “You’re going to sort them out for me.”
Though Ewen maintained a poker face, Sonny could see the pride in his eyes. It was an honor to be trusted with ‘problems.’
“Dan Miller was arrested last night. Head over to his hotel room on St. Thomas. He’s staying at the Lost Resort, Room 207. Do you know it?”
“Yeah, boss, I know it.”
“There should be some money hidden somewhere. Tear the place apart until you find it. Call me when you do. David Clark was with him, and now he’s MIA.”
“No shit?”
“He might have found the cash and bolted, or decided to lay low because of Dan’s arrest, but he’s not answering his phone.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, Ewen, that’s not fucking good,” Sonny retorted. “Ask around, see if you can pick up a trail.”
“Will do, though the storm would’ve kept most people indoors.”
“No shit,” Sonny grumbled, pulling out his phone and checking for the tracker again. “None of this makes sense.”
“I do have some good news,” Ewen declared. “The move is complete.”
“Took long enough, but at least that’s out of the way. One last thing. Next time you get me a hooker, make sure her tits are real. Inspect them yourself before I see her. Now get the fuck over to that hotel.”
Chapter 16
As the airliner made its descent over the crystal clear, turquoise waters, Jim Parker barely glanced out the window. Petrified the lie he’d told had been uncovered, his stomach churned and he’d broken into a cold sweat.
He was sure the only thing that would have provoked Conchello’s last-minute summons was the outing of Beth Cameron—aka Elizabeth McKay—and her boyfriend Manny. If he had learned they were DEA agents, Jim didn’t dare think of the consequences.
Lifting his handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face, he tried to come up with an excuse if he was accused of the cover-up, but the plane hit the tarmac, jolting him from his anxious pondering. The engines screamed, then quieted, the aircraft rolled to a stop at the gate, and rising unsteadily from his seat, he lugged his bag from the overhead bin.
Leaving the plane, he was immediately cloaked in warm tropical air, but far from appealing, it was suffocating. Hurrying the short distance across the tarmac and through the terminal door, he expected to
find someone waiting for him, but the area was for passengers only. Following the throng, a couple of minutes later he was out of the restricted area and milling around with the general public.
“Jim!”
Startled, he turned around. A tall man wearing large, reflecting aviator sunglasses, a colorful island shirt, and white shorts beckoned him over. Built like a seasoned bodyguard, Jim assumed he was one of Conchello’s goons.
“I’m John,” he declared briskly. “Follow me, I have a car waiting.”
Taking Jim’s bag, the brawny stranger stayed uncomfortably close as they walked outside and headed to a dark gray SUV. As Jim climbed into the back seat, the driver sitting behind the wheel continued staring straight ahead.
For a moment Jim suffered an acute desire to bolt, but he knew there would be no chance of escape.
“Buckle up,” John ordered, climbing in and settling beside him. “Have you been here before?”
“No,” Jim mumbled, thinking the stranger looked even bulkier in the enclosed space.
“You should take in the scenery as we drive.”
“Yeah, I will,” Jim muttered, believing the man was thinking, it will be the last thing you see before Conchello puts a bullet through your brain.
Staring out the window as the SUV left the airport, Jim saw only a blur of shops and people, but a short while later as they headed up a hillside, he found himself surrounded by a tropical forest.
“Turn around, Jim,” John ordered brusquely as the vehicle unexpectedly moved to the side of the road and came to a stop. “I need to blindfold you.”
Panic seized him.
Was he about to be taken into the jungle and shot?
As the black fabric slipped over his eyes, images of his kids as toddlers flashed through his head.
Terrifying seconds ticked by.
The scarf was tightened.
The SUV began to move.
Jim let out a breath.
Death in the jungle was not his fate.
At least, not yet.
The drive up the slope continued for several minutes, then the vehicle bounced its way over rough ground before finally stopping. He was helped out, guided up a couple of steps, and into a building. Though he was grateful for the blast of air-conditioning, the respite was short-lived. He was plonked into a chair, and his wrists handcuffed behind him.
He heard the door close, then lock.
The blindfold was removed.
Opening his eyes, he found himself in a dimly lit room.
Looking around, he suddenly caught his breath.
“Elizabeth…?”
Her hand flew across his face, slapping him so hard she almost knocked him to the floor.
“You murderous bastard! I hope you burn in hell!” she hissed angrily, then stepped back and leaned against the wall.
Words failing him and utterly dumbfounded, he was desperately trying to make sense of her presence when a heavily muscled thug wearing a balaclava stepped in front of him.
“Who are you? Where am I? Do you work for Conchello?” Jim stammered anxiously.
“Jim Parker, you’re a dead man walking, but you’re about to be given a second chance, not that you deserve it. Redeem yourself and get a few years behind bars, or I’ll call Conchello, tell him how you lied, then drop you off inside the gates of his estate.”
Though he wasn’t sure if his interrogator was the same man who had called himself John, Jim didn’t care. The guy’s voice held menace, the threat was real, and the decision an impossible one.
* * *
Sonny Conchello ruled his gang with a barbed wire fist. That was why Scott believed the ploy to get Jim to the island would be successful. Scott also knew, faced with a choice, the DEA boss might find a lifetime in prison safer than cooperating and betraying Conchello.
But Elizabeth knew Jim.
She’d worked with him for years.
Scott was sure her presence would be helpful.
Dashing back to the safehouse in a powerful speedboat to pick her up, the moment he’d walked inside, he’d realized having her with him for the interrogation had been an excuse.
He’d missed her.
Hurriedly returning to St. Thomas, he’d left her in the safety of the small home, then he and Jack had hurried off to meet Jim at the airport.
Now looming over him in the dimly lit, small room, he was glad she was there, even though she’d allowed herself to get a bit carried away with the slap.
“So, Jim,” he continued, “do I feed you to Conchello, or will you cooperate?”
“I, uh, I don’t know what you mean,” Jim grunted.
“Don’t even go there,” Scott retorted, but before he could continue, his phone chirped. Pulling it from his pocket, he glanced at the screen. “Jim, I’m going to leave you to rethink that statement. Elizabeth, we need to step out for a minute.”
“I’d rather stay here and beat the crap out of him,” Elizabeth snapped, glaring at her former boss.
“If he doesn’t play ball I might just let you,” Scott replied calmly. “You can think about that too, Jim. She has claws as well as karate chops.”
Striding quickly to the door and gesturing Elizabeth to walk out ahead of him, he closed and locked it behind him.
“Scott, what is it? Why did we have to leave?”
“Take a look,” he replied, showing her the phone as he guided her down the hall and into a comfortable lounge.
The camera in Dan Miller’s hotel room had sent a signal to Scott’s phone alerting him to an intruder. Scott had been waiting for the appearance of one of Conchello’s men, but he hadn’t expected such an important errand boy.
“Who is that?” Elizabeth asked as they sat down on the couch.
“His name is Ewen McDonald. Conchello brought him in from Australia a few months ago to head up his operation here,” Scott replied, watching the blond-haired man begin a methodical search. “In a perfect world, I’d have him, Conchello, and all the other rats in one place and throw a net over them. Making deals with bad guys has never appealed to me.”
“Me either. You should try to get everyone at that camp on the island.”
“It’s hazardous, but if Plan A doesn’t work it’s an option.”
“You still haven’t told me about Plan A. In fact you still haven’t told me about a lot of things. When are you going to fill me in?”
“Soon,” he promised. “Ah, he’s found the rolled-up banknotes. That’s weird. He’s moving behind the back of that television set.”
“What the hell is he doing?” Elizabeth muttered. “It looks as if… yeah… he’s unscrewing the back.”
Captivated, they watched closely as Ewen reached inside and retrieved a package of white powder wrapped in plastic.
“I don’t believe it,” Elizabeth muttered, shaking her head. “Didn’t you search the room?”
“Of course, you saw us, but quickly, and we didn’t think to take the television apart,” Scott declared, hastily opening his briefcase on the coffee table and retrieving a second phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Jack.”
“So… he was here when you dropped me off, and with you when you picked up Jim, and the guy you were with when you picked up David Clark, right?”
“Yep.”
“Dammit, Scott, you need to fill in all the blanks,” she demanded, glaring at him. “I still don’t even know who you work for, or should I say, who you two work for.”
“I told you I will,” he shot back as Jack answered the call. “Hey, Jack.”
“Hi, Scott, what’s up?”
“Get over to Dan Miller’s hotel now! We have an opportunity to compromise Ewen MacDonald, but you have to move fast. I just watched him pull a packet of narcotics from the back of the television set.”
“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”
“He’s still searching, but I don’t think he’ll be there much longer.”
“I’m on my way, though I
suspect he’ll be a tough nut to crack.”
“Yeah, I agree, but his disappearance will shake up Conchello.”
“True. Does Frank know? He might want to involve the locals.”
“Not yet, I needed to talk to you first, but I’ll call him. Nab Ewen while you can. We don’t want to blow an opportunity like this.”
“On my way, and I’ll pressure him there. He won’t have time to think too much.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be watching.”
“I assume Frank’s your boss,” Elizabeth said as Scott ended the call.
“My chief,” Scott corrected her. “Damn, it looks like Ewen’s getting ready to leave. I hope Jack gets there in time.”
“I thought you were calling Frank to let him know.”
“I’ll make the call once Jack has him under control, or knocked out and in the SUV.”
“But then it will be too late.”
“Exactly.”
“Scott, please tell me what you’re planning.”
“Soon,” he said sternly. “You have to trust me.”
“I do, it’s just hard not knowing what’s going on.”
“You will. Be patient. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
* * *
Elizabeth could see Scott’s resolve. The operation had become personal, and she believed it was because of her. Jim had betrayed her, Dan had killed her partner and tried to frame her for his murder, and they both did Conchello’s bidding.
“Jack’s in the room,” Scott suddenly exclaimed, breaking into her thoughts. “Wait until you see him take this guy down. You won’t believe how fast he is.”
“I saw how fast you were,” she muttered, turning her eyes back to the phone.
Now bent over the coffee table, Ewen was placing the cash into a bag. Elizabeth watched, her heart in her mouth, as Jack crossed the room with quick, silent strides, suddenly swung sideways, and kicked Ewen in the small of his back. As he flew to the floor, Jack jumped on top of him, cuffed his wrists in an instant, then swiftly moving an arm around his neck, he fisted Ewen’s hair and jerked his head to the side.
“Wow, that was impressive,” Elizabeth muttered.
Her Very Strict Captain Page 13