Mission: Her Freedom: Team 52 #6

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Mission: Her Freedom: Team 52 #6 Page 8

by Hackett, Anna


  They headed down the hall towards his place. He pulled out his keys and opened the door. “Well—”

  Callie surprised him by throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m just happy we’re all okay.”

  “Me too.” He hugged her back, his nerves jingling. The scent of her hit him even harder, and the feel of her lean curves pressed against him made his pulse race. “Callie.”

  She lifted her face to his.

  He wanted to kiss her. He tried to talk himself out of it, but he lowered his mouth to hers. There was so much need thundering through him.

  Then she moaned and her hand slid into his hair. “These glasses. So sexy.”

  Brooks’ brain short-circuited. He deepened the kiss and then they stumbled into his condo. He cupped her ass, lifting her off her feet and set her down on his hall table. He heard something crash to the floor along with his keys, but he ignored it and kept kissing her. He couldn’t stop.

  Now her hands were on his ass, digging in. Her moan vibrated down his throat.

  God. God. He ran his hands over her body. He loved her body—strong, feminine, sexy. He cupped one small breast, flicking his fingers over her nipple. She bit his lip.

  Then his hands went down. He ran his fingers along the waistband of her leggings, finding sleek, warm skin.

  With a moan, she pushed against his hands, her own sliding up under his T-shirt to stroke his back.

  Brooks ran his lips down her jaw, along her neck. Then his fingers dipped beneath her waistband, just an inch.

  “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed.

  He slid his hands inside her leggings and straight inside her panties. Satin brushed against his skin. Callie canted her hips forward and bit his lip again. The sting felt so good.

  Brooks growled, feeling completely out of control. Like a conqueror back from marauding, and she was his prize.

  He moved his hand lower and his fingers slid through her slick folds. Shit. God. She was so soft and warm.

  She bucked against him.

  He hesitated. “Should I stop?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He stroked her and she moaned. He gripped one of her legs and pushed it up, giving him better access.

  “You feel so good, Callie.”

  Her mouth was on his.

  He circled a finger at her entrance. “Can I—?”

  “Yes. Yes.” Her voice was low and husky.

  He pushed his finger inside her. Callie made a desperate, hungry sound. Desire flared like a blowtorch.

  “Such a pretty, tight pussy, Callie.”

  She moaned, her eyes going wide.

  Dirty talk spilled out of him, fueled by the intense desire roaring in him. “You’re dripping for me.”

  “Brooks,” she breathed.

  “You want more? You want my fingers plunging inside you, stretching you?”

  She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  He slid another finger inside her, doing as he’d promised. He cursed that her leggings hampered his moves, but he did what he could, thrusting his fingers inside her.

  “Please,” she moaned, rubbing against him.

  “Jesus, you’re so—” He wanted to worship her—her sleek body, her perfect breasts, sweet, wet pussy. “Gorgeous.”

  He moved his thumb to her clit.

  “God, Brooks! I’m going to—”

  She came, hard. Her moans and cries echoed off the walls. Brooks kept his gaze on her face, memorizing every nuance of it.

  Then he saw reality slowly drain the pleasure from her eyes. She blinked, her cheeks flushing.

  “Um.” She dropped her legs from around him and he pulled his hand out of her pants.

  She tucked her head and looked uncomfortable.

  God, was she regretting what they’d just done? He couldn’t quite read her and his throbbing cock made it really hard to concentrate.

  “I should—” Callie stood and her gaze dropped to his straining fly. She looked away quickly.

  This wasn’t how he’d imagined this going at all. “Callie—”

  “You need to rest,” she said. “We need to get back to base tomorrow. Can’t be tired.”

  “Right.” Once again, he couldn’t find any words. He wanted to touch her, but wasn’t sure he should.

  She’d come, she’d liked what they’d just done. He hadn’t hurt her, had he?

  She edged toward the door, which was still ajar.

  “Callie—”

  “I…have to go.” She opened the door, slipped out, and closed it behind her.

  Like that, she was gone.

  Brooks thumped his head back against the wall.

  Dumbass.

  * * *

  Crapola, Callie.

  Callie drove back to her townhouse, her mind whirling while her body felt oh-so-happy. Her hands flexed on the steering wheel.

  She’d just completely freaked out on Brooks. Sexy Brooks with the magic fingers.

  Her belly tightened. She could still feel his touch, still feel how wet she was between her legs. Her panties were saturated.

  She groaned. What had she done? She didn’t have time for men or dating. She’d usually see a guy for a few months, sporadically, due to her work. Mostly, she just had sex and the occasional dinner. She didn’t want attachments, so that suited her just fine.

  She never, ever had frantic make-out sessions on hall tables. With a friend and work colleague, no less.

  Turning onto her street, she pulled into the driveway of her neat townhouse and pulled into the garage. It wasn’t huge, but she liked it. She turned off the headlights and then let her head drop against the wheel.

  Sex was usually light, fun, and a few orgasms.

  But with Brooks… She had no idea what to do with this need, this intensity. This was way beyond fun and easy. And now the sexy, tattooed geek was under her skin.

  Her phone pinged and she pulled it out. There was a text from Brooks.

  Brooks: Cal, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.

  Dammit. She banged her head against the wheel. He was such a nice guy. She thumbed the screen.

  Callie: You didn’t.

  Brooks: So why did you rush out?

  She nibbled her lip.

  Callie: Just… It was intense. I never expected you to be so good with your fingers.

  There. Fun, sexy. Lightening the mood was just what they needed.

  Brooks: You’ve seen me with the keyboard. My fingers are very limber.

  Callie laughed. Only Brooks could make her laugh when she felt like she was flying apart.

  Brooks: I’m good with other things too.

  A shiver ran through her. Say goodnight and leave it at that. But her stupid fingers didn’t obey.

  Callie: Oh?

  Brooks: Oh, God. I didn’t mean… I meant with my brain. I’m shutting up now.

  She’d bet he was blushing. In the heat of the moment, he’d been all dirty talk, murmuring naughty things in her ear that shot her desire through the roof. But one suggestive text had him stumbling.

  Callie: I know.

  She added a smiley emoji.

  Callie: See you tomorrow, Brooks.

  Brooks: Sweet dreams, Cal.

  Callie let herself inside her house. She flicked on the lights, dumped her keys on the kitchen counter, then watered her lone plant.

  Then she stripped off her clothes, showered, and fell face first on her bed. A good night’s sleep would make everything seem better.

  But her dreams starred one tattooed tech geek, and they were anything but sweet. Instead, she dreamed of tearing his clothes off, his mouth and hands on her body as he whispered dirty things in her ear.

  The next morning, she was bleary-eyed when she arrived at the Bunker. The X8 jet-copter was already prepped for takeoff, so she hurried over.

  She waved at Kinsey and Smith, who were saying goodbye to each other. In the cockpit, Seth and Blair were doing pre-flight checks of
the X8. Callie leaped through the side door.

  Brooks was already aboard. He smiled his sexy, lopsided smile and waved.

  She sucked in a breath and forced a friendly smile on her face.

  He was wearing another of his humorous Star Wars shirts. He seemed to have an endless collection, and she’d even bought him one or two at Christmastime. This one said, “Trust me, I’m a Jedi.”

  “Sleep well?” he asked.

  “Sure did.” I’m also a giant liar.

  “I have something for you,” he said. “A thank you for everything you did for me in Arizona.”

  “Brooks—”

  He took her hand and pressed something to her palm.

  When she opened her fingers, a small, silver charm in the shape of a tiny, female angel lay in the center of her palm. The angel’s wings were outstretched.

  “You were my guardian angel. And I know this is part of the pararescue logo.”

  She nodded. “That others may live.” She murmured the motto of her old job. She’d loved being a combat medic, but when her Pave Hawk helicopter had been shot down on her final mission, and she’d lost both her fellow pararescuemen and the soldiers they’d risked their lives to rescue… She swallowed. She hadn’t been able to face going back. Thankfully, Director Jonah Grayson had called and offered her a lifeline.

  “It’s to go on your chain,” Brooks added. “With Bec’s charms.”

  Callie reached up and grabbed her necklace. She stared at Brooks, so touched.

  “Thank you.” She took off the necklace and slipped the tiny, new charm on.

  Brooks got her. He understood her need to help others.

  “Okay, buckle up, people,” Seth called from the cockpit. “We’re ready for takeoff.”

  Smith and Axel settled in their seats, while Lachlan closed the side door.

  Brooks got busy tapping on his tablet, and Callie watched him from under her lashes. Soon, they were soaring across the desert, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t even noticed they were airborne.

  Then he stiffened like he’d been hit by electricity.

  “Brooks? What is it?” she asked.

  “Nat sent some info.” His face turned serious.

  The others leaned forward.

  “Tell us,” Lachlan said.

  “The Inca legends about Viracocha. They said the god left the Inca and went out across the Pacific Ocean.”

  Callie gripped the back of the chair, leaning closer. “Taking the wind jewel with him?”

  Brooks nodded.

  Lachlan tapped a finger on the seat in front of him. “The Pacific Ocean doesn’t really narrow things down much.” But he nodded at Brooks. “Still, it’s a start.”

  “Yeah. I can narrow down searches for any gods matching Viracocha’s description in the Pacific.”

  If anyone could find a tiny jewel lost in the Pacific, it was Brooks.

  Chapter Ten

  Brooks leaned back in his computer room chair. He loved his space at the Area 52 base. The top-secret base was located beneath the Tonopah Test Range, right beside Area 51. It worked out nicely since no one paid too much attention to Area 52.

  His computer room was filled with top-of-the-line computers, screens, and a few gadgets he’d put together himself. Best of the best.

  He’d spent the last few hours since they’d arrived, running several searches. They needed to find these assholes.

  At the same time, as he sat there chewing on the end of his Han Solo pen, his thoughts turned to Callie.

  What if he’d ruined their friendship forever?

  She’d seemed okay today, and she’d liked the charm. He set his tablet down, and instantly, he was deluged by memories of having her sweet body pressed against his, her cries echoing in his ears as she came riding his hand.

  Shit. Now, his cock was as hard as steel.

  He blew out a breath. But if she just wanted to be friends…

  Dammit. He wanted more.

  “Brooks? Brooks?”

  Blair’s voice finally penetrated. He looked up at the woman and blinked. “Sorry?”

  “I’ve been calling your name for a full minute.”

  Blair was decked out in black cargo pants, with a tight tank top on. Her blonde hair was in a tight ponytail.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit distracted… I mean, busy.”

  “Liar. I can tell when a guy is thinking about sex.”

  Brooks felt heat in his cheeks, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…”

  Blair shook her head. “Spill it.”

  “Well…”

  “Brooks, don’t make me get rough with you.”

  “Callie and I…”

  Blair raised a brow and motioned with her hand. “Go on.”

  “She ran out on me mid—” Shit, he wasn’t sure how much he should share.

  Blair sighed and sat down beside him. “Is being with her just some fun for you?”

  “What? No. It’s Callie. She’s gorgeous, smart, good at her job, sexy. She’s everything.”

  A huge smile crossed Blair’s face. “You’ve got it bad, my friend.”

  He blew out a breath. “She’s everything, but I’m not some gun-toting, eats-nails-for-breakfast guy. There’s no way she’d stick around—”

  “Stop.” Blair scowled at him. “Quit putting yourself down. Callie likes a lot more than muscles, Brooks. Besides, you have those too.”

  He looked down. “I—”

  “I think you’re letting old demons get into your head.”

  Dammit, was he doing that? “Maybe.”

  Blair tapped her nails on the counter. “Look, stop thinking about who you should be with and who you think Callie should be with. Just feel.”

  “Well, I have no problem with that.”

  Blair tilted her head. “But be warned, Callie seems like she has it all together, but her demons run deep.”

  “Because of her sister and dad.”

  Blair’s eyebrows rose. “She told you?”

  He nodded.

  “Well.” Blair looked contemplative for a moment, then a smile crossed her face. “You be patient with her. Don’t let her back off.”

  Brooks ran his hand through his hair. He wasn’t exactly sure how to go about that.

  “She likes you, Brooks. I’ve never seen her so worked up over a guy.”

  “And that’s good?”

  Blair patted his cheek. “Very good. Just be you.”

  Well, he couldn’t be anyone else, could he?

  After Blair left, he checked the searches and tweaked some parameters. Some partial results had come through, and he scanned them.

  His gaze caught on something and he paused.

  Shit. He jogged out of the computer room. When he pushed open the door to Ty’s lab, the man growled loudly.

  “Out.”

  Brooks stared at Ty, who was wearing goggles over his eyes, leaning over where he had the shard resting on a stand. God, Ty was extra moody with River gone.

  “Any luck with that?” Brooks asked.

  “No.”

  Hmm, that explained the really bad mood.

  “Nothing?”

  Ty growled again. “It manipulates energy and heats up the air. That contributes to storm clouds forming. That’s all I’ve got so far.”

  “Where is everyone?” Brooks asked.

  “They hit the gym after training. My guess is they’re in the rec room. Now get out.”

  Brooks backed out and headed for the rec room. As he entered the well-lit space designed for the team to relax and take their meals in, he saw them all drinking and grabbing some snacks. His gaze went straight to Callie’s bare midriff. She was wearing a fitted sports bra and leggings.

  His cock twitched. Damn. He managed to drag his eyes off her skin. “I found something.”

  Lachlan lifted his chin.

  “Come to the computer room.”

  Soon, the team was all packed into the computer room. Brooks touched his table
t and his sketch of Mr. Ordinary appeared on the screen.

  “Hey, it’s King of the Goons,” Callie said. “That’s a great picture. Did you do it?”

  Brooks nodded. “I scanned it and ran it through some cross-referenced searches. After I plugged in all the search terms—”

  “Brooks,” Lachlan said.

  “Right.” The guys never wanted to hear the tech details. “I found this.” A newspaper article appeared on the screen.

  The image showed a group of people at some sort of event. Mr. Ordinary stood with several others, wearing a suit and smiling widely.

  The group was in front of a large building.

  Lachlan frowned. “Howard Manning.”

  Brooks nodded. “He’s a minister at the Windvale Church headquarters in Phoenix, Arizona.”

  “A minister,” Callie muttered. “Whatever happened to love thy neighbor, and do unto others?”

  “Hang on?” Lachlan said. “Windvale. The same church that was attacked here in Vegas?”

  “Ding-ding,” Brooks said.

  “This Manning is after the wind jewel?” Seth said.

  “He did mention someone else,” Brooks said. “A woman with a vision. I got the impression he was just a flunky.”

  “Anything else?” Lachlan asked.

  “That’s it for now. I’ll start ripping Manning and Windvale apart.”

  “Why would they attack their own church here in Las Vegas?” Callie asked.

  “No idea,” Brooks said. “Maybe they had the shard and it got out of control?”

  Seth frowned. “Or they wanted to test it.”

  “And warn us off at the same time.” Lachlan thumped his fist against Brooks’ shoulder. “Good job. Dig up everything you can.”

  “I need a shower,” Axel called out.

  “Me too,” Blair added.

  The team filed out, and Brooks hunched over his keyboard, tapping. He input a bunch more searches on Howard Manning and Windvale.

  “Going to run you down, asshole,” he muttered.

  “Hi.”

  Brooks jolted, and spotted Callie leaning against the wall. She’d showered and changed, so he guessed he’d lost at least a few minutes while he worked.

  “Hi.” He took off his glasses and polished them on the edge of his shirt. “What time is it?”

  “Late.”

  Ah, so he’d been working for a lot longer than a few minutes. He often lost himself like this when he was working.

 

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