Turn the Tide

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Not necessary to do their job. It may have even gotten in the way of it. Like with you. You need to put on your big-girl panties, finish the job, and give them the damn thumb drive.”

  She planted her hands on her hips, spitting angry, hot as a firecracker. Not a good sign. She was winding up to let him have it. He braced, prepping to take it.

  “I haven’t seen you in two years,” she said, “and you’re going to lecture me on the tenets of being a good operative based on a movie? You’ve got some gall, you quitter.”

  “I didn’t quit the Agency. I was fired, sweet pea.” He had Sanborn to thank for being able to stand on that soapbox.

  “Do you think I care if you quit the Agency? You idiot! You quit on me. You quit on our friendship and left a hole in my life. Happiness isn’t just a state of mind; it’s a choice. Chris and Javier are dead, but you quit on living. Did you ask yourself how hard it was for me? I missed the intel about the bomber. It’s my fault they’re dead. My fault you were hurt while I was trapped at Langley. Helpless. I couldn’t even be at your side when you were rushed to the hospital.”

  “First, you are not responsible for what a piece-of-shit terrorist did. Second, don’t you think I know I should be grateful to be alive? I’m sober. I’m working. I’m trying every damn day. I’m not the quitter here. We had a lousy argument, and you walked out. You were a real ride-or-die friend when I was at my lowest.” Once the words were out, he wanted to take them back, but he still couldn’t stop his hurt feelings from overflowing. “You’re the quitter!”

  She gasped, recoiling on her heels. Then her eyes narrowed. “You said awful, disgusting things to me! Told me you didn’t need or want me in your life. To leave and never come back. You slammed the door in my face.”

  “You’re the most obstinate person I know,” he said. “Worse than a mule. Since when have you ever listened to me? And why would you start then? When I was drunk and raving?”

  Raw, crushing emotion broke in her expression, leveling him.

  He curled his hands around her shoulders, softening. “It kills me I said those things to you. I was furious at myself for surviving when Javier and Chris didn’t. At the world for being unspoiled and unblemished and beautiful. And I was furious at you. For looking at me with pity.”

  He had demanded to know why she stuck around, how she could bear the sight of him.

  She’d stared at him with the pity you’d show a mangy mutt with three legs. I owe it to you, Logan. You’re my friend.

  Another deep stab twisted between his ribs. He hadn’t wanted her friendship that night. He’d needed her comfort and affection. To bury himself inside her, make love to her. It had been selfish for a damaged wreck like him to have expected her to make him feel worthy as a man, when he had to do that for himself back then.

  She cupped his face. “Logan Silva, I have never pitied you. What you saw in my eyes was sadness that you were drinking yourself to death. And gratitude that I didn’t lose you. You’re my best friend.”

  A splintering sensation cracked through his chest. “Yeah, a brother. I got it.”

  “You’re offended by that, of all things?”

  “Do you remember when I kissed you?”

  Her wet lashes fluttered, a deep flush rising along her throat, and she nodded, looking scared of what he might say next.

  “A man doesn’t kiss a woman like that if he thinks of her as a sister.”

  He had captured her mouth, slipping his hands in her hair, and had funneled years of pent-up desire into the press of his lips and caress of his tongue. Her flavor had flooded his senses, weakened his knees, but it had been more than a kiss. A dangerous gamble of their friendship. An offer of everything he had to give to the right woman, to her. And she had rejected him.

  Staring at her, loneliness was a weed winding around his heart, choking him. “So, yeah, I’m stuck on brother. It’s good to finally know why you shot me down.”

  “You really are an idiot.” She rose on her toes, throwing her arms around his neck, and crushed her lips to his.

  Chapter 5

  Berlin, Germany

  Sunday, March 6, 1:09 a.m. CET

  Ashley tingled from her scalp to the soles of her feet. Logan’s mouth was wild on hers, one hand on the back of her neck urging her to stay open to him and the other gripping her backside hard, kissing her as fiercely as she kissed him. The surge of sensations made her toasty warm from the inside out. And it was a revelation.

  This man was the biggest idiot, couldn’t buy a clue if it was free when it came to how she felt about him. But she wanted him to be her idiot.

  Their tongues tangled, breath mingling, mouths claiming in the slip of control, and she fed on the taste of him. Heat rushed over her skin. Suddenly she was burning up on the inside, nerves jumping in her stomach. He cupped her breast, thumbing a nipple, and not in a nice way. Punishing yet playful, so wicked good.

  She moaned in his mouth and palmed him.

  “I want you, Ash.” He growled against her throat. “Need you.”

  Butterflies took flight in her chest as he drove his hips against her core, pushing her back to the cold tile. He shifted his feet, adjusting his stance as if trying to force the confined space to accommodate his massive body while struggling to get closer and closer. He sucked on her tongue and fucked her mouth with his, so deeply she felt it between her thighs.

  Intense. He was so aggressive and intense; it was intoxicating.

  The floor beneath her feet slid away as he grasped her hips, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him, clinging to his shoulders, clutching at his neck and hair.

  Gripping his erection, he teased her entrance with the thick crown. Letting her slippery desire coat him. The erotic sensation was maddening. And amazing.

  She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything. She feared losing her mind if this was a one-time, heat-of-the-moment hookup for him. This was the threshold. Once they crossed to the other side, nothing would be the same.

  It was terrifying and exhilarating, but she needed all of him. “Logan, please.”

  His breathing grew harsh as he pushed into her. A slow, glorious drive until he was fully seated. Whimpering, she rocked on him, yearning for more stimulation.

  “Oh, fuck.” His guttural whisper was rough in her ear. “Protection, Ash. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” She wanted him like this. Nothing between them. “I’m on birth control. Had a physical before I left.”

  “Had one the beginning of the year. You’re safe with me.” He kissed her with bruising force. Such ferocious dominance. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  She believed him, believed in him.

  He withdrew to the tip and drove up hard and fast. She was thrust up the tile wall under the water. He angled her hips, adjusting his frame as if trying to gain better purchase. Sweet tension coiled low in her belly, tugging at the depths of her core.

  She fully expected him to finish first and was uncertain if she would at all.

  During sex she was stuck in her head, unable to let go. The only way she’d been able to come was when a guy went down on her. Outside of bed, she spoke her mind, fought for what she wanted. In bed, she was embarrassed to ask a guy for that.

  Orgasms were fun. Having one with Logan would be special, but what she needed was this closeness, this intimacy, where they shared all of themselves. Everything they had to give.

  Without warning, he spun out of the shower, holding her tight against him, gripping her where her thighs met her behind. “Can’t fuck you properly in there.”

  He stumbled through the doorway, nibbling at her throat and squeezing her ass. They were soaking wet but steaming hot as he stalked to the bed.

  They toppled onto the mattress, fused as one, her tucked beneath him. Then he pulled out in a su
dden motion, leaving her aching for the fullness of him.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathed.

  Crawling down her body, he kissed her breasts, suckling her nipples until she squirmed, licked her stomach, and planted his face between her thighs.

  “Logan.” She ran her fingers over his scalp, wishing he had longer hair to curl around her fingers and tug. “You don’t have to.” But boy, oh boy, she wanted him to.

  “Have to?” He shot her a hot-as-hell grin. This incredible man, handsome and sensual, was the only one who ever set her heart alight with a smile. “Sweet pea, licking you everywhere isn’t a chore.”

  A zing speared her belly. Yes, yes, yes.

  Lowering on his stomach, he put her legs over his shoulders. He drew his stubble across her inner thighs, prickling her skin lightly. She quivered with happy anticipation.

  A shuddering sigh left her at the soft pressure of his mouth and the promise of what was to come. He kissed her, followed by a slow tasting—sucking and lapping at her as he hummed his satisfaction. There was no doubt in her mind this was the opposite of a chore for him. No man had taken such care with so much passion. Her body melted even as the tension building in her core wound so tight she was scared something inside might snap.

  An aching need clawed through her, driving her to the edge of a release that was neither sweet nor tame. It had never been like this. Not ever with anyone. He latched onto her tender bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue and sucking hard until she came undone.

  Sensation thrilled through her beyond any defense, like a dam giving under pressure. The wild response of her body was startling. She fought to catch her breath, and speaking was impossible. All her self-control had been stripped away by the wrenching spasms that took her captive, had her mewling and writhing.

  He kissed his way up her body slowly. As soon as she had the strength, she flipped him onto his back and straddled him, taking him inside once more.

  She worked her hips, welcomed his hands cupping her breasts. His gaze was fierce, feasting on the sight of her. His shaky groans and expression of ecstasy did no harm to her ego. Planting her palms on his rock-hard chest, she gloried in the play of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She stared in his haunted eyes. One brown. One cloudy and partially closed.

  Both she loved.

  Sitting up, he kissed her hard. He was all over her, his hands, his skin, his breath slipping into her lungs. With his predatory agility, he rotated and pinned her under him. He slammed deeper inside her, consumed her senses, had her losing hold with each rough thrust. Her thoughts unraveled in the urgent way they went at each other. The rhythm they set was rabid.

  Primal.

  She shut her eyes, basking in the reality of this exquisite moment with Logan. This was about more than chasing sexual relief. They needed the comfort they’d denied themselves before, the connection filling the emptiness.

  He interlaced their fingers and with the angle of his hips, he hit that hot little button of nerves again. Potent pleasure rocketed to the surface. She strained for him as if she couldn’t draw him deep enough, her breath coming faster. Their gazes met and held. It was as if they’d done this before, knew the intimate landscape of the other’s body, had always loved each other.

  Emotion tightened in her throat. With one last hard thrust, they shattered together.

  He collapsed beside her. She was limp, exhausted.

  They clung to each other, their limbs locked tight, as though they feared the aftermath would tear them apart. Or, worse, that keeping this would cost them all they had.

  A sense of dread floated up inside her, but she tamped it down.

  Lying on the right side of his body, she trailed her fingers through his dark, curly chest hair set against olive-toned skin, taking a slow, stroking tour of his torso, exploring every ridge and valley. He had muscles everywhere, but his physique was long and lean, defined—sculpted from hard work outside a gym. A tapered waist created a sexy V. So male.

  She kissed his injured ear and along his neck. The rough, leathery texture of his scars was a balm to her lips. The imperfection strangely made him perfect. For her.

  Five years she’d craved his affection. Every moment shared—the laughter, secrets, stolen glances, the thrill and risk of high-stakes ops, the flirtation that had been anything but casual—condensed to this ethereal connection. She inhaled him, drew the scent of him into her soul.

  “Why now, Ash? And not before?” His arm tightened around her waist, and she slipped her leg between his thighs. “Why did you push me away when I kissed you all those years ago?”

  She nuzzled below his ear with her nose, tangled in his warmth, and whispered, “I was so in love with you, I was scared you’d break my heart.”

  He rose on his forearm and peered down at her. The moonlight defined his roughhewn features, the lean, honed strength of his body, and with his savage grin, he looked like a Greek god who’d been to war and captured her heart.

  “That was my bad ear. You know I didn’t hear a word.” He tickled her cruelly.

  She laughed, squirming under his torture. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She nestled against him, unable to meet his eyes. “You weren’t ready. You were sleeping with every pretty woman who crossed your path. I didn’t want to be a notch on your belt. I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

  “You really do think I’m an idiot.” He ran his fingers through her damp hair and cupped her skull. “When I made my move, I had it all planned. How to woo you. Where to take you on our first date. How to impress you on our second. For our sixth date, I was going to surprise you with a getaway to the Salamander Resort.”

  “Gosh, I’d forgotten how insanely cocky you were.” He was changed, humbled—finally within her reach. “As if you would’ve made it to the sixth date.” Smiling, she poked him in the ribs and pressed her lips to his throat.

  Logan wasn’t a romantic, but she wondered.

  “I’m not joking,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I knew I’d have to show you that I was serious. Prove to you from our first kiss that you weren’t just another notch on my belt.”

  His statement dropped like a rock in the pit of her stomach and made her reevaluate what he was saying. Had he been interested in a relationship the first time he’d kissed her? Enough that he’d even gone to the effort of planning their dates? How would he know about the Salamander unless he’d done research on romantic local getaways? And from what she’d heard, it was a prime spot for romance. Maybe she was the bigger fool of the two of them.

  “Ash, I understand if this”—he waved a hand between their bodies—“is a reaction to needing my help. I don’t expect you to saddle yourself with me in return. I know I’m a ruined disaster.”

  Nope, he was the bigger fool.

  “You’re not ruined. And even if you are a disaster, I’ll take you any way I can have you. So long as I can keep you.”

  She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, trying to figure out how to say what was deep in her heart.

  “I never wanted anything bad to happen to you, but it wasn’t until this”—she ran her hand over his wounded eye—“that I thought we might have a chance. I’m sorry you were hurt, but I’m glad you put the pieces of yourself back together.” She trembled, hating the vulnerability of being so exposed, and needing to say what she should’ve two years ago. “I want to be with you because I’m in love with you, Logan.”

  He drew her into the warm cradle of his body. “You have to give them the thumb drive. Is it here, or did you hide it?”

  She pulled away. Couldn’t they even enjoy the afterglow of finally being together for a few minutes? She’d just told him she loved him, and he didn’t say it back.

  Instead, he went straight to the thumb drive.

  “They’ll never stop until they get it.” He clutched her shoulders, forcing her gaze
to his. “The battle you’re fighting with the CIA is an impossible cause.”

  She touched the St. Jude’s medallion she’d given him. “Yes, it is an impossible cause. That’s why I hid it someplace they’ll never find it. I have to try to do the right thing, or how can I live with myself?”

  “Live with me, and fuck the rest. I love you.” The dark velvet rumble of his words made her breath hitch. “This will get us both killed.” He tightened his hold on her as his voice grew forceful. His fingers bit into her arms. “You’re in over your—”

  The front door rattled under the force of a heavy blow.

  Logan rolled and was off the mattress, fists up, standing as a bulwark between her and whoever was in the hall before she registered what was happening.

  Ashley yanked the sheet, covering herself, scrambling to rise. Blood screamed in her ears, her heart stuttering in her throat.

  Another loud, powerful thwack.

  The door burst open, kicked in off its hinges.

  Chapter 6

  Berlin, Germany

  Sunday, March 6, 2:23 a.m. CET

  Knox stormed into the flat, sidearm at the ready, taking in the scene.

  Logan launched himself, naked, swinging a fist. Knox jumped out of the way, but a powerful blow caught his forearm.

  “Go, Ash. Run!” Logan waved to her and charged forward.

  Knox aimed the gun, not wanting to kill his friend, but if a flesh wound would end this madness, then so be it.

  With predatory speed, Logan locked Knox in a front bear hug that brought his feet off the ground and prevented him from firing.

  “I won’t leave you,” Ashley said, clutching the sheet wrapped around her.

  How disgustingly touching.

  Logan was supposed to find her and bring her in. Not fuck her and help her escape.

  “Go,” Logan pleaded. “I found you once. I’ll find you again.”

  Ashley scurried out of sight into the back of the apartment. Logan tightened his grip on Knox, the knuckles of his clasped hands digging into Knox’s spine.