Combustion: Ensenada Heat Book Two

by Tess Summers

  Brian bobbed his head awkwardly and rocked on his feet again, glancing at Ric, almost pleading with his eyes for his partner to say something so they could leave.

  Ric took the hint, produced his card, and handed it to her.

  “If you hear anything strange—day or night—call me.” He opened the front door and turned toward her. “You can also call me if you don’t hear anything. Maybe I could take you to dinner sometime?”

  Reagan hoped this wasn’t his A-game—although that might explain why he was still single. She followed him out and stood on her doorstep, her smile pained.

  “I’m not really looking to date anyone right now. I’m still grieving for my sister and trying to keep it together enough to still do my job. But I promise, if I see anything suspicious, you’ll be the first call I make.”

  “Okay, please do. Don’t hesitate—doesn’t matter what time it is.” He walked a few steps behind his partner, then turned back with a smile. “It was great seeing you again, Reagan. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Two months ago, she would have taken him up on his offer for dinner. He was muscular with a shaved head and mesmerizing eyes. And she really liked his smile.

  “Good seeing you, too, Ric. You too, Brian. Stay safe, guys.”

  Reagan hadn’t meant it when she said she would contact him if she saw anything suspicious, but she meant that. She would feel terrible if anything happened to either of them.

  She shut the door and locked it behind her, then waited at the picture window in the living room until they drove off. Once their car was up the street, she ran through the house, trying to figure out just where her boyfriend had disappeared to, and if the visit from Brian and Ric had anything to do with it.

  Her phone started ringing, except it wasn’t her ringtone she was hearing. Had the recent software update reset her ringtone? Reagan went to the kitchen and dug through her bag to find her cell. Once it was in her hand, she looked down to realize there was no incoming call—yet the ringing persisted. Following the noise into her bedroom, she remembered him saying something about leaving a phone under her pillow and ran to find it before the ringing stopped.

  Discovering it right where he said it would be, she frantically started pressing buttons to answer it.

  Her “Hello?” came out a little breathless.

  Goosebumps covered her arms when she heard his deep voice chuckle, “Hey, sassy pants.”

  “Hi, baby. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I see you had some visitors.”

  She looked around the room, like she would find him in the corner watching her.

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  She could tell he was smiling as he replied, “I planted a couple of cameras to keep an eye on things while I’m gone.”

  Reagan smiled, picturing his grinning face. But then his words sank in, and her smile turned into a frown. She knew—he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

  “So you’re gone then?”

  “I’m afraid so, sweetheart.”

  She slumped down on the bed.

  “Why? I think they believed me that you’re not here.”

  “Just them coming there means it’s no longer safe for you. Who knows if they did an online search, and if they did, what they searched. It could trigger anyone monitoring those databases. I can’t risk it.”

  She sighed in resignation. “But… I need you here with me.”

  “I know, baby. I need that, too.” His voice was low and gruff.

  They sat in silence for a moment, then she sat up straighter.

  “Where are these cameras you planted?”

  “The front door and the garage door.”

  “Oh. Nothing in the bedroom?”

  “No,” he snarled. “Why?”

  “Oh, no reason. Are you the only one watching the feed?”

  “As of right now, yeah. Again, why?”

  “No reason,” she sing-songed.

  “Reagan…” he warned.

  “Maybe I’ll just give you a reminder later of why you need to come back soon,” she teased.

  She heard him take in a sharp breath.

  “Dammit, woman. That would be cruel. And sexy as fuck.”

  “But how will I know if you’re watching?”

  “You’ll know,” he reassured her.

  “Hmmm… well, then maybe you’ll see me later. If not, I hope we at least talk soon.”

  “We will. Keep this phone on you, but hidden, okay? Don’t let anyone see you checking it. I’ll only call if I know you’re home alone or if it’s an absolute emergency.”

  “Okay,” she said softly. “I wish you were here.”

  “Me too, baby. Soon. I promise. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  They hung up, and she didn’t move from where she sat on the bed, the tears streaming down her cheeks as the feelings of loneliness overwhelmed her. How could she miss him so much already?

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mason

  He wanted to stay close for a few days, but knew he couldn’t stay too close, so he drove his stolen car to Minneapolis, parked and locked it at the airport, and rented a hotel room a few miles away. He could rent a car by using one of his aliases if he absolutely had to get back to Fargo, or he could get on a plane and fly to headquarters.

  When he saw her red eyes on the video stream when she walked through the entry into the living room, it killed him not to go back and comfort her.

  He’d been so fucking proud of her when the two Fargo officers showed up at her doorstep. She had been cool as a cucumber and didn’t miss a beat, even turning the tables on them and making them squirm. He was relieved to learn it was Fargo PD who were looking into him, and not his agency, or worse, a bounty hunter. But their showing up still lit a fire under his ass to get moving and resolve things. Admittedly, he’d grown comfortable with his life with Reagan and hadn’t been in a hurry to change it, even though he knew it was necessary. But he also knew it was necessary to rest his body and let it properly heal; it’d only been a month since he’d been shot. It wasn’t exactly like he was milking the time off—just enjoying it. Enjoying the fuck out of it, actually.

  Then Ric fuckin’ Casper went and asked Reagan out to dinner after he finished questioning her, reminding Mason that he needed to get his shit squared away so he could properly claim her. He planned on being so obviously present in her life, only someone with a death wish would be dumb enough to ask her out. Right now, he’d give the cop a pass—he didn’t know she belonged to Mason. But that shit needed to be remedied soon.

  After she passed by where the camera was, he began to regret not planting more, because he’d have loved to see what she was doing right now, and if she was okay. At the time, he’d worried they were too intrusive, but justified it by telling himself he was only putting them at the doors, and was keeping her safe by knowing if anyone came inside.

  As if he’d channeled his thoughts into action, she reappeared on the entryway camera. It was apparent she was looking for where he had positioned the device. She paused in front of the door, obviously determining where the best angle for the camera would be, then followed the line of sight right to where he had hidden it. He couldn’t help but smile at her satisfied look when she plucked it from its hiding spot.

  “Hi baby,” she said mischievously into the camera as she walked back into her bedroom. He was getting seasick watching the jostled feed until she set it down on something at the end of her bed—giving him an unobstructed view of her body when she reappeared and lay down. In white lingerie and thigh-highs.

  That sexy little bitch.

  “I don’t even know if you’re watching,” she purred as she traced her fingers over the thin material covering her tits.

  He sent a text to her burner phone: I’m here, sweetheart.

  “Oh, good. You can hear me too,” she said out loud with a naughty smile.

  He dialed the number, and she answered right away. “Wel
l, hello there, sexy man.”

  “Put me on speaker and set the phone down,” he growled.

  She quickly obliged, placing the phone on what would be his pillow. What should be his pillow.

  He turned the volume down on his receiver to prevent the echo from the video feed, which was delayed by a half a second.

  “You look beautiful, baby,” he crooned, and was rewarded with her shy smile.

  “You always make me feel beautiful.”

  “And sexy as fuck.”

  She giggled. “You always make me feel like that, too.”

  “Good; then I’m doing my job.”

  She didn’t respond, just lay there while her hands leisurely roved her body over her lacy garment, giving him a show.

  “Let me see your tits,” he urged.

  Seductively, she lowered the lace until her perky boobs popped out, her pink nipples pebbled, and she squeezed them together in her hands.

  Mason groaned out loud. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  She traced circles around her puckered skin and arched her back slightly, moaning softly as she brought her knees up with her toes pointed in those goddamn, sexy-ass stockings on the bed.

  “Pinch your nipples for me.” She immediately complied, and he snarled, “Pull them away from your tits. Hard.”

  When she did as he demanded, his dick created a big enough tent in his sweatpants that he could have camped in it. He tugged them down to his thighs, along with his boxer briefs, letting his cock spring free and immediately fisting it while keeping his eyes glued to his monitor.

  “Spread your legs, baby.”

  Reagan took her time, but spread her legs wide.

  “Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.”

  She did, and he could see her pussy glisten through the camera. What he wouldn’t give to be there to taste her.

  “Fuuuuuck,” Mason drawled as he slowly started to tug his shaft up and down.

  “Touch yourself,” he demanded gruffly.

  She let out a little whimper as she ran her finger up and down her slit with one hand, her other hand still holding her underwear to the side.

  “Mmm, yes. That’s so sexy. Now, take your panties off.”

  Reagan brought her legs together and lifted them up high—giving Mason a front-row seat to her exemplary ass as she shimmied her white panties off, then twirled them around her index finger before tossing them to the floor.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful baby. Open your legs for me.”

  Her pussy was fucking soaked.

  “Play with your clit.” His voice was a little raspier than it’d just been.

  He watched, mesmerized, as she moved her middle finger in circles around her knot. His dick was leaking and her soft moans were not helping.

  “You’re driving me crazy, you’re so damn sexy. Put a finger inside your pussy.”

  She slid the finger circling her clit down to her opening, and he coaxed, “No, no. Keep touching your clit, too.”

  Using her other hand, she plunged one finger inside herself while continuing to play with her pearl. Mason began to move his hand to match her rhythm, then he remembered the dildos in her nightstand.

  “Are you touching yourself?” she purred.

  “Fuck yeah, I am. Get your purple rabbit from your nightstand, baby. I want you to fuck yourself with it and imagine it’s my cock.”

  Reagan casually turned over and raised onto all fours, stretching down to the cabinet while keeping her ass on full display for the camera, her shimmering pink slit peeking out. He knew she was doing it on purpose, and he loved it.

  “You. Are. So. Fucking. Hot,” he groaned appreciatively while smearing the precum around his tip.

  Producing the lavender dildo, she turned over on her back and looked straight into the camera with a sexy smirk. He had to let go of his cock or he would’ve come right then.

  “Spread your legs, sweetheart. Let me see you.”

  She ran the toy up and down over her folds, teasing both of them in the process.

  “Put it in your pussy and turn it on,” he urged and began to tug on his cock again when she complied.

  “Mmm, good girl,” he groaned at the sight of her laying on her bed, legs spread and pussy drenched, while she fucked herself with her dildo as he told her what to do.

  “Now put the ears on your clit and turn that on.”

  She let out a long moan and began to pant.

  “That’s it. God, you look so sexy,” he growled. “Keep touching your clit.”

  He could tell, just by her noises and the way she arched her back, that she was getting ready to come, and he began to jerk his cock harder.

  “Are you going to come, baby?”

  She whimpered, “Ye—yes.”

  “Good, come for me sweetheart. Let me see your wet little pussy quiver around that dildo. Pretend it’s my cock fucking you,” he urged.

  Her back bowed off the bed, and she let out a long drawn-out, “Ohhhh fuuuuuck yessss,” as her tummy began to make jerking movements. Watching her come undone was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, and he was quickly spurting his own release onto his stomach, grunting loud so she’d know what she’d done to him.

  He sat trying to catch his breath as he watched her shut her toy off, set it aside, and lay there with a smile that matched his own.

  “I fucking love you,” he snarled into the phone, making her smile grow bigger.

  “I love you, too.” Her smile turned into a pout. “But now I wish you were here to hold me.”

  “Soon, sweetheart. Soon. I promise.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Reagan

  She’d just put on a virtual peep show for Mason. It was so slutty of her, yet she’d never felt more sexy or desired.

  And being told what to do—and then actually doing it without a second thought?

  Oh yeah. Hot as fuck.

  Apparently she was a submissive exhibitionist. She’d had no idea.

  Actually, it was probably his appreciation for what she was doing, and the effect she knew she was having on him, that turned her on the most. Even though she was taking orders from him, she felt powerful because she knew he was coming undone watching her as she followed his commands.

  “We definitely need to do that again,” she whispered out loud as she moved to stand up from the bed and put her pajamas on.

  Her burner phone dinged with an incoming message.

  Mason: Agreed.

  She’d almost forgotten that he could still see and hear her after they hung up. She looked up at the camera and smiled as if he were actually in the room with her.

  “I love you, baby. But the camera is going back to its original spot. As much as I wish you were here holding me, it’d be creepy having you watching me all night.”

  Her phone dinged again.

  Mason: I’ll be back soon. Delete these messages, sweetheart.

  She made a show of deleting them while she was still in front of the camera, then laid the phone on the bed and went to get ready for bed. It was still early, so she thought she’d do some work for her classes in bed before turning in.

  Her phone dinged again after she put her pajamas on and had washed her face.

  Mason: Don’t move the camera yet, please? I feel better being able to look at you and know you’re okay.

  She looked at the camera with a grin. “Weirdo.” But she left it while she sat lotus-style on the bed with a pencil tucked behind her ear and quickly got lost in her work, soon forgetting it was even there.

  Her eyes began to grow heavy, and she slid between the sheets then shut off the light. Only when she snuggled into her pillow—and reached for him out of habit and he wasn’t there—did she remember that she hadn’t moved the monitoring device.

  “Don’t watch me sleep all night like a creeper,” she murmured with a smile, her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure if he’d heard her, but something told her he had.

  Just knowing he was sti
ll looking out for her made sleep come easier than she’d anticipated. He managed to make her feel safe, even when he wasn’t physically present.

  ****

  Mason

  He stayed in Minneapolis for two days before getting on a plane to Virginia, but continued monitoring Reagan’s doors, especially during the day when she wasn’t home. There were no more visitors.

  They’d talked on the phone every night, and she would always move the camera into her bedroom, like he asked. He liked being able to check on her and know she was safe. There hadn’t been another episode of video sex, but just the memory of it made his cock hard.

  Fuck, he missed her, and couldn’t wait to have her in his arms again. Which was why he so readily agreed to the next mission. As he had suspected, it was one he normally would never have taken, but he was able to negotiate leaving the agency with a lump sum settlement then being listed as dead—just like he’d predicted. Once that happened, he would be free to be with Reagan. Marry her, have babies with her, maybe open a restaurant. They could feature her art, and she could be the face of the business so he could still maintain a low profile. Even though he was going to be free to do what he wanted, he still needed to be smart. He wouldn’t be running for office, or even having a social media presence anytime soon.

  Maybe he’d grow a beard.

  His burner phone alerted, letting him know Reagan was home from work.

  “Hi, baby,” she said as she walked inside, making him smile. She often talked out loud like he was home with her. Even though it filled him with longing to be there with her, he loved it. It was the next best thing.

  “I have dinner plans with girlfriends tonight, so if you’re going to call me, it’s going to have to be either before I go or when I get home. I’ll send you a text in a little while to let you know when I’m leaving, just in case you’re not watching.”

  He was always watching. In a I’m not a creeper kind of way. Or maybe he was? He assumed it didn’t bother her, but maybe that was a conversation they should have. If the cameras made her uncomfortable, he needed to take them down. If that was what she wanted, he’d probably still try to talk her into keeping them outside.