Sounds to Die By: Sensory Ops, Book 1
Page 12
Kieralyn shook against him. She sniffled.
He reached up and thumbed a tear from her cheek. “We’ll save them, Kieralyn.”
“I hope you’re right.” She blew a breath out and nestled deeper into him. “We have no idea how they’re being treated. I can’t stand the thought of what they’re going through.”
“Then don’t think about it.” He slid his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. She exhaled a warm breath that floated across his mouth. He swiped his tongue across his lips as he bent down and kissed her.
Her kiss was tender and filled with a depth of emotion she hadn’t shown him before. Whether the emotion was for him, caused by the situation, or a buildup of stress from everything going on… He didn’t care what the reasons were. Well, he preferred to think it was a reaction to him. A shared bond between them, but he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get close to her again by dwelling on maybes and what ifs.
“Ian, take me to bed.”
His breath caught. His heart raced. Moving in time to the music, he edged them toward his attached apartment and the bedroom.
“Gladly.” Skating his hands over her top, he grabbed the hem of her exercise shirt, pulled it over her head, and dropped it on the floor. Free of the confines of the built-in bra, her breasts swayed against him. He kissed a path down her throat and cupped her breasts in his hands.
Her hands moved over him, pulling his shirt over his head before sliding back down his chest and stomach to the waist of his jeans.
“You fit perfectly.” Her breasts in his palms. Her body against his with her head tucked just beneath his chin when they danced.
He shifted his feet so he could toe off his shoes without stopping. “Step out of your shoes.”
She gripped the waist of his jeans, her nails bit lightly into his skin. Holding on to him, she did as he asked. He focused on the sound of the shoes plopping to the floor so he could avoid tripping. With each step closer to his room, he eased her pants over her hips and down her legs until they fell to the floor for her to step free of.
He skimmed his hands along her shoulders, gently kneading the muscles in her neck and then walking his fingers along her spine. She arched against him, her naked skin rubbing against his. Her muscles quivered and eased. Hungry for her taste, he captured her mouth again. She opened for him with no hesitation.
Her fingers dipped deeper into the waist of his jeans. She worked open his fly. As she lowered the zipper, she rubbed against his erection. She bit into his lower lip. A low moan rumbled in her throat.
His skin hummed with the desire to have her under him again. In his bedroom, he walked her backwards until her knees bumped the mattress. He lowered her to the bed and followed her down without taking his mouth from hers. The melodic music flowed into the room, echoed the sentiment of the moment.
He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Tonight, this moment, they could find pleasure in each other and reassurance that everything in life wasn’t ugly.
Tensing his muscles to keep from crushing her, he framed her face and skimmed his fingers down her neck and over her breasts. Her nipples poked his palms as he worked his way to her waist. A moan vibrated his chest as he lifted his head and squatted between her knees.
He trailed his fingers over her hip bones and missed the erotic discovery of her garter belt. “It’s a pity that you changed clothes at my place. I do love those garters.”
“You don’t—” Her voice broke, forcing her to try again. “You don’t even know what color they were.”
“Color doesn’t matter.”
“What does?”
He licked his lips and skated his palms down her legs, raising them until her feet pointed toward the ceiling. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on the back of her knee. “Taste, and you taste divine.”
She gasped and bucked her hips off the mattress, jerking her legs. A wave of her musky arousal pulsed in the air. His dick jumped. His balls tightened.
“Smell. Your scent…warm and welcoming …is delicious.”
He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth. Her scent and the remembered taste of her nectar exploded on his tongue. He swiped his tongue one last time across the back of her knee.
“Feel. The way silk glides against your skin and the way your skin slides against my fingers.”
Goosebumps broke out across her skin. She trembled. He grinned and leaned toward her other leg. He lightly bit into the satiny flesh behind her knee, scraped his teeth over the prickly skin. More prickles popped up.
Blood pounded in his veins and head, drowning out sound. The driving desire to slam into her, into the hot center that he knew would be swollen and ready, snapped at his spine. Too soon she would solve her case and walk away from him. No way would he rush this.
He placed her knees on his shoulders and leaned toward her. The tip of his cock nudged her sex. She enticed him. Intrigued him. Propelled him toward insanity.
“Ian, I wish to hell you’d hurry up.”
He grinned. “Not happening.”
Dipping his head, he nipped the underside of her breast. He pinched lightly at the inside of her thighs. She bucked. Her arms flailed in the air for a moment before her nails scraped across the comforter as she sought purchase. A feral pleasure flooded him.
Driving her as mad as he was beginning to feel was a temptation he couldn’t resist. He’d figured out that his touch drove thoughts of his blindness from her mind. In these moments she thought of him as the man capable of bringing her body to life. Her responses brought his to life.
“Come on.”
Nibbling a path across her chest to her other breast, he shook his head. “Need a condom.”
“I’m on the pill.” She wiggled against him. Her legs brushing the sides of his head, her sex rubbing the length of his cock.
“Meaning that you trust me.” His brows arched. He again pinched lightly behind her thighs as he bit into the underside of her breast.
“Do I have a reason not to?”
“No.” He swiped the pad of his tongue across her skin. Juvenile or not, he wanted to mark her. He pulled a patch of skin into his mouth and sucked. Her sweet flavor heightened as blood rushed to the surface.
She popped her hips off the bed, sliding onto him. He dug his fingers into her hips to stop her. Her inner muscles gripped him. He swallowed and shifted his grip. He lifted her ass, impaling her on him.
Diving hilt-deep, sucking harder on her breast, he drove her higher.
She swelled, heated and pulsated against him.
He kissed the spot where he’d no doubt marked her. The skin puffed slightly and the taste buds on his tongue were sensitized. He struggled to clear his head.
“Come, Kieralyn.” She groaned, low and long, and rolled her hips so she took him deeper. She shook. Sweat broke out at the base of his spine. “Let yourself go.”
She trembled. Her hands yanked at the covers before seeking out his. He released her hips and linked their fingers.
He eased up her body. She raised her head and met his mouth. She slid her tongue along the inside of his top lip before diving between his teeth. Their mouths battled. His brain tingled.
She tightened around him. “You let go.”
What choice did he have? The woman had driven him mad. He pulled away and thrust home. She dug her head into the pillow and writhed against him. She screamed. The erotic pleasure-filled sound bounced off the walls and wrapped around him.
With a final thrust, he pretended they wouldn’t end and followed her into bliss.
The oddly pleasant scent of evergreen and peppermint drifting on the air pulled Kieralyn from sleep. Cocooned in darkness, not even the morning cobwebs of exhaustion clouding her mind could make her forget where she was or what she’d done. She couldn’t block the memories of the last twenty-four hours any easier than she could ignore the seriously expensive, high-thread-count sheets soughing against her skin. The man assaulted the senses on every level.
Once she’d discovered freedom and independence, sharing space with people for prolonged periods of time made her itchy. Claustrophobic. She didn’t even like when she had to allow the apartment maintenance people in her place. Lana had been the only person she’d never minded sharing space with, the only person to never stifle her or expect more of her than she had to give.
Lana had always been there and had shown her what life could be like. Kieralyn would be damned if she wasn’t there when she was needed the most.
Staying around Ian, regardless of how competent he seemed to be, would catapult her into the role of caretaker. There were too many things he couldn’t possibly do for himself. Things that would naturally fall into the lap of a girlfriend, fiancée or wife. He probably paid someone to do his cooking and cleaning. Hell, a significant other could save him money. He may already be thinking of her in the role. If a way existed for it to be an equal partnership she wouldn’t mind a relationship with Ian.
Not that being with him—helping him—would be a tremendous hardship. He was capable of handling himself. He was an attentive companion.
Shit. She’d messed up. What she’d had with Ian in the past twenty-four hours threatened the balance she’d struck. It mocked her, taunting her with the desire to know more about him. To know his secrets and what drove him.
Walking away would hurt like hell. She may as well slice the heart from her chest. At least then she wouldn’t have the capacity to care about men any longer. She wouldn’t be tempted to make monumental mistakes that could alter her life.
She would leave him. Self-preservation and her case mattered more than what Ian might think of her. Nope. Anything remotely long term with him was not a possibility.
She tossed the sheet back and flung her legs over the side of the bed. Whatever was happening between them was temporary. It would not interfere with her case. It would not hold any power over her life.
In the small kitchen, she found the pot of coffee that Ian had brewed. She poured a cup and drank it black before pouring another one. It was good. Better than her local coffee shop. With the caffeine burning through the cobwebs in her brain, she headed toward the lab.
Wall sconces were on in the lab, providing muted light for her. Ian kicked back in his chair listening to a recording, but not one of the men they were tracking.
“El Dogo to Enigma.”
Kieralyn’s brows shot up. Ian had a recording of El Dogo and hadn’t said anything? It might be connected to another case he’d dealt with, but her gut said differently. El Dogo had a deeply personal connection to Ian. But what?
“Enigma here. Go.”
“The mark is tainted. Fall back.”
“Orders are to move in. We move in.”
“I don’t like this.” El Dogo sighed heavily. “She’s a blind child. She’s hurt and scared.”
“All the more reason to get her out.” Enigma’s voice was hard. Unmovable. “Move in on my signal. I’ll cover you.”
Enigma counted down from three. Sounds of bustling leaves crushing beneath heavy boots filtered into the room. Metal struck metal. Something scraped and then a door squeaked open. The girl screamed. There was a thump and then she silenced.
El Dogo knocked a child unconscious? As a favor to her or to himself? And if the child was already scared and traumatized, his actions wouldn’t help her trust people if and when she did get free.
Gunshots and cursing broke the relative silence. “Move out.”
El Dogo’s breathing grew strained. There was a lot of shuffling, a few thumps as if punches were being thrown, and then running feet mixed with more gunshots. A car engine roared and the scrape of a van’s side door sliding open and closed were the last sounds heard before the recording ended.
Kieralyn leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “When did your father—El Dogo—get out of the military?”
Ian flinched and turned his chair toward her. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Since the beginning of the recording.” He’d been so wrapped up that he hadn’t noticed her. It was the first time he’d been taken off-guard and she’d lay serious odds it was because of El Dogo. Very personal.
“Soon after I was blinded.” He raised his head, slightly jutting his chin out as if daring her to say the wrong thing or judge him. “He wanted to be around more for me. Then he was recruited by the CIA.”
“So, why not just tell me the whole story, including the bit about him being CIA? Or are you trying to protect him from something?”
“At first I wanted verification. I didn’t know you, but I did know that he disappeared two years ago.” Ian lunged from the chair. It rolled back and slammed into the desk. “He’s my father and I want answers, but I would not risk those women.”
She stomped toward Ian. Blood pulsed through her veins. He was another in a long line of people who thought they could dictate what she knew. Granted, she’d allowed herself to get so wrapped up in what he made her feel and her personal goals that she’d relegated the importance of his father being El Dogo to a low spot on her list. That wouldn’t happen again.
That was the kind of mistake that could get someone hurt or killed. Then she wouldn’t have a career or a team to worry about. “Withholding information and going off half-cocked, ready to do your own investigation, isn’t helpful to anyone but you.”
“He’s my father!”
“And he has ties to my case! That makes him a person of interest. I should have known about this.” Betrayal stabbed at her. She’d known Ian had held something back. She hadn’t thought for a moment that she would stay in the dark about it, but nothing had prepared her for the disappointment suffusing her. “What would you have done if I hadn’t followed you yesterday? Can you stand there and tell me that I would have the information that I have now?”
“You… I…” He stopped and dragged his hands across his face. His shoulders slumped. He went after his chair. Fumbling around where it had hit the desk, he was a good five feet away from where it had stopped rolling.
It was a relief to know that he wasn’t perfect and always in complete control. She smirked and let him search for it while she went to the chair she’d been using. He would tell her what he knew so she could recover the women. If it meant taking his father down… Well, she’d try to be understanding of Ian’s feelings.
Diverting her focus to the job and her professional goals was safer than dwelling on the hurt gripping her chest. Whatever lenience she might have shown Ian because of her feelings for him had diminished with his admission that he’d crippled her chances of finding the missing women and winning the respect of her team.
“El Dogo is what my father was called when he was in the army. When he got out and joined the CIA as an operative, he kept the name.” He tapped his fingers on his knees. Sadness darkened his gaze. “Two years ago, on an undercover assignment to ferret out a group of terrorists, he went missing.”
“He told you what he was working on?”
“Not really. I knew he was undercover on something big. He’d been gone for two months when I went to my mom’s one day. She was running late getting home and I didn’t expect Dad to be there. I overheard him on the phone. I’m not sure what he was planning, but it unsettled me. A week later, he was gone. Since his disappearance… Well, we needed answers. I’ve quietly dug into what he was working on.”
“We?”
“My mom, sister and me.” He popped his knuckles and stretched his neck. “For the last two years, I’ve listened to every recording coming in from the government in hopes of hearing some mention of him.”
“And you found it on mine.”
“Kieralyn, I’m
not trying to stop you from solving your case.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “If my father has betrayed his country, my family, then he deserves to face the consequences.”
He said it so easily, but Kieralyn doubted Ian could really turn his father over. “But you don’t think he has.”
“One of my earliest memories is of my father loading the dishwasher every night after dinner. He was always there and every action he ever took, every task he took on, was backed with a solid strategy. I can’t see a reason why he would be tangled up in your case.”
“But…”
“But he seems to be. I don’t know if this case is related to the one he was working or if he stayed under and used the same cover for a new case or if he somehow lost himself after he left.” Ian ducked his head. His shoulders slumped with defeat. “It doesn’t make sense. He valued life. More, he wouldn’t have abandoned my mother for some unethical cause.”
She could connect the dots. “What are you more afraid of? That we’ll find out he’s turned or that we’ll compromise him if he’s still undercover?”
“I’m not sure. Both possibilities could result in losing him forever.”
Kieralyn considered her options for a moment. Take what she’d learned from Ian, walk out now, and go to her team. Never see Ian again. Or stay. Working with Ian and combining what he knew with what she knew and trying to determine together how his father was connected might be what they both needed.
She’d been bull-headed, rude and insulting to get him involved in her case. She’d allowed emotions and personal involvement to drive her. Ian hadn’t once insulted her or treated her badly. He too had been ruled by his emotions. They were no different in that respect, but before she made any promises about Ian’s dad, she needed to know more about El Dogo as a man. Ian claimed he wouldn’t have left his mom, yet that’s precisely what had happened.
Maybe Ian had his loyalty misplaced, or maybe his instincts were dead on. As someone trying to prove the worth of her own instincts, how could she brush his aside as easily as her team did hers?