Was this the second chance he’d hoped for?
His stomach fluttered with nerves—a sensation he felt so rarely, he almost couldn’t name it—and his fingers even trembled a little as he punched in the number she’d left. But then he hesitated over the send button.
Fuck calling her. He had an entire month free, and if he was going to get a second chance with her, he would do it the right way.
…
“He’s leaving.” Todd Urban smacked his palms on the steering wheel of the van parked next to Quinn’s car, then reached for the door. “We need to grab him before—”
“No.”
“Sir, if we don’t—”
“Stand. Down. I’m sure the Wilde brothers have cameras everywhere around here. We can’t risk being spotted.”
Urban grumbled but released the handle and watched in the side mirror as Quinn climbed into his car. “If he’s going on another op, who knows when we’ll have this opportunity again? We have to neutralize him before he gets his memory back.”
“He’s not going on an op. Gabe and the rest of the team are still inside.”
The car started, and Quinn pulled out of the lot. Good thing they’d had time to bug his vehicle.
Urban cursed under his breath and glanced over at Captain Cold in the passenger seat. He’d never call the captain that nickname to his face, but it was a fitting one, bestowed on him by the people that suffered under his command. “Your orders, sir?”
“I’ve never liked this idea. We’re better than grabbing a man out of a parking lot like a bunch of thugs. We need a new plan of attack.”
Urban grunted. “Like running him off the highway?”
“That was an act of desperation and never should have been given the green light. We’re better than that.”
Urban just barely managed to keep his eye roll to himself. That was Captain Cold’s mantra. He was better than this, better than that, better than everyone and everything. And Urban was starting to think he didn’t like getting his officer hands dirty. Maybe he even resented that he’d been sent on this kind of wet work with a lowly grunt. “We should have sent some guys to take him out in Afghanistan. Nobody would have thought twice about it if he ended up with a bullet in his head there.”
“Urban,” Captain Cold said after a moment and looked at him with—well, maybe not respect, but with something close to it. “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“What idea?”
“We’ll send him on another op, get him out of the country again. Preferably someplace hostile where we’ll have a scapegoat for his death. Where there won’t be an investigation when his body turns up.”
“That…might work.” At least, it solved the problem of trying to explain away a decorated ex-SEAL’s body to the American police. “How do we get them out on another op?”
“They’re mercenaries,” Captain Cold said with disdain and picked up his cell phone. “We hire them. Pull up the GPS and follow Quinn, make sure he’s going home. I have some calls to make.”
Chapter Two
El Paso, Texas
Now that he was here, standing in front Mara’s duplex, Quinn was starting to doubt himself. What if she’d only called to tell him he’d left a sock or something behind last time he was here? Or what if she’d only wanted to tell him off for sneaking away while she was sleeping? She had every right to rip him a new one for that act of cowardice, but that didn’t jibe with the sweet, shy Mara he knew. And her voicemail hadn’t sounded angry, but there had been a note of urgency in her tone.
Maybe she was in trouble? If so, he’d look like an ass showing up on her doorstep with flowers. But if the Juarez Syndicate was causing her family problems again like they had been over the summer, Jesse, as her cousin, would have known about it. He had been the one who hired HORNET to protect her and her mother in the first place, and he hadn’t said a word about Mara recently, so it couldn’t be more trouble. Maybe…
Maybe he should stop standing here debating it like a pussy and ring the doorbell already.
Yeah. Good plan. Frustrated with himself, he jabbed the bell harder than he meant to and the resulting sound grated across his nerves.
A lifetime passed before the door finally opened.
And there she was, Mara Escareno, the woman he’d been thinking about far too often since he walked away from her six weeks ago. Her black hair was damp and she was barefoot, wrapped up in a fluffy robe that fell to just above her knees.
She looked good—no, amazing, all dewy from her recent shower with her hair curling around her shoulders and her cheeks rosy. She smiled at him, warm and bright, and in the second before she realized he was not the person she’d been expecting, he could almost pretend she was welcoming him home.
But then her smile faded. She sucked in a sharp breath of surprise and all the pretty color drained from her complexion. “Travis?”
“Uh, hi.” Shit. This was a stupid idea. She was obviously expecting someone else. Someone she’d been happy to see. A boyfriend? His blood boiled at the thought, even as he told himself he had no right to jealousy when it came to this woman.
She blinked like she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Wha-what are you doing here?”
“You, uh, called me.”
“Yes, but that was almost three weeks ago.” She touched her throat, drawing his attention to the gaping front of the robe and the lush swell of her breasts peeking out from between the lapels.
Christ, he wanted to touch her.
But, again, he had no right when it came to this woman.
He made himself lift his gaze to her face. “Yeah, I was…dealing with some things. I didn’t get the messages until last night.”
“So you flew to Texas? Just like that?” Now she was staring at him like he was one sandwich short of a picnic. Which, given his head injury, he probably was. And then some.
“Mara,” he began, but couldn’t pick out the right words from all the white noise inside his mind and instead shoved the flowers in her direction. “Things, uh, didn’t end well between us back in November and—”
“Are you kidding?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You walked out in the middle of the night without a word. No note, no phone call…nothing. That’s not ending things, Travis. That’s disappearing. And then you show up weeks later and hand me flowers, expecting that to make everything okay?”
“I know it won’t—” He broke off as a car turned the corner at the end of the block and spotlighted them in its headlights. The little hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “Can we do this inside?”
Mara sighed and backed up a step. “Yes. Come in. There are things we need to talk about.”
Quinn followed her. The open-concept space looked exactly the same as he remembered it, except for the boxes and totes stacked along one wall where she used to have a bookshelf. He closed and locked the door behind him, then motioned to the boxes. “Are you moving?”
“Yes. I can’t afford this place anymore.”
“Did something happen with your job?” He remembered she worked at as a veterinary technician and adored her job.
“No, I’m still employed. I just…” She trailed off and turned away, grabbing her cell phone from the breakfast bar that separated the living room from the kitchen. “We’ll talk. Right now, I need to call Lanie and cancel our dinner plans.”
“Lanie?” The surge of relief was so profound, Quinn felt light-headed with it. She’d had plans with her best friend, not another man.
“Yes, and I’m going to have to talk her down from coming over here and beating you senseless.”
He tried for a smile that fell flat. “I like her already.”
“You wouldn’t if she came over, so give me a few minutes.”
He set the flowers down on the coffee table and wandered around the living room, making an effort not to eavesdrop on her conversation with Lanie. He stopped in front of the window and parted the blinds. The car that had spotlighted them was
now parked on the street in front of her neighbor’s house. Something about the sight of it there sat like lead in his gut, but he didn’t have time to analyze the sensation. The back door slid open and little claws clicked on the tile floor as Mara’s dog came barreling in his direction, barking its fool head off.
“Jesus Christ.” He dropped the blinds and backed away from the animal. It was only the size of a football, with wild blond fur, a curly tail, and three legs, but he’d rather face down a suicide bomber than the little mutt.
“BJ!” Mara scolded and hung up her cell phone. She returned to the living room and scooped the little dog up, and Quinn was able to draw in a breath again.
“BJ,” he said on an exhale and then scoffed at himself. “Snippy as ever, I see.”
“She doesn’t remember you, that’s all.”
“I remember her.” He reached out to pet the animal, ignoring BJ’s grumble of annoyance. “And your ornery one-eyed cat, Hawkeye. You named them after the characters from your favorite TV show, M*A*S*H. You like it because it was your father’s favorite, too.”
“Your first day here we binge-watched it together,” she said softly. “And you laughed. Like, really laughed. I’d never heard you do that before.”
“Yeah, I did. It’s a good show.” He exhaled hard. “It was…a good week.”
“Then why—”
“Wait. Please.” He stepped toward her, but still didn’t touch her. He didn’t trust himself enough to touch her before he said what he needed to say. “Just let me… I need to say this. I didn’t ever tell you why I came back in November. During my last mission, things got really fucked up and for a while, it didn’t look like I was going to make it out alive. And even though the shit was hitting the fan and one of my teammates was bleeding out in front of me, the only thing I could think of was how much I wanted to see you again. How much I wanted more than only one night.”
Tears gathered in her eyes and, dammit, that wasn’t the reaction he’d been aiming for. He couldn’t stay away for a second longer, not when she looked at him with those big brown eyes brimming with emotion. He stepped forward and risked losing a finger by taking the dog and setting it on the floor, then he pulled her against him.
Christ, she felt good in his arms again. She felt right. And it scared the ever-loving hell out of him.
Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t like that image,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “You, nearly dying alone in some foreign country.”
He didn’t bother telling her that was very likely going to be his end. He didn’t see himself living to be an old man in retirement, that was for sure.
He rested his cheek on top of her head and breathed her in. Her hair smelled faintly of berries, a scent he remembered from when she’d leaned over as she rode him and her hair had fallen in a curtain around them both. The scent memory triggered an erection he had no hope of hiding, and she drew away slightly, gazing up with lust-darkened eyes.
“Travis.” She breathed his name, and the raspy sound of it went through him like a lava flow.
Holding her gaze, making sure she read his intentions loud and clear, he lowered his head until their lips were centimeters apart, silently asking permission.
Her breaths came faster, and her eyes half closed. “We need to talk.”
He weaved his hand into her drying hair. “I know.”
“Oh, this is such a bad idea,” she whispered, then pushed up on her toes to close the distance between their mouths.
The kiss was of the rock-your-world, knock-your-socks-off, never-gonna-stop caliber. In that moment, Quinn would have been perfectly content to stand there in Mara’s living room kissing her until his heart quit beating. But then she moved, set a tentative hand on his hip and stood higher on her tiptoes, pushing her breasts against his chest, and that idea suddenly held a lot less appeal. Kissing was good. Burying himself inside her heat would be even better.
Quinn spun her around so that her back pressed against the wall, shocking a gasp out of her. He lifted his head and stared down into dark eyes gone wide with shock.
Cursing himself but unable to stop tasting her, he bent to nip her puffy lower lip. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
She muttered something in Spanish. “No. God help me, no, I don’t want you to stop.”
“I don’t do gentle, Mara,” he felt compelled to warn even as he worked his way down from her lips, over her chin, to the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. He scraped his teeth over the frantic beat of her pulse and reveled in the delicate shudder that shook her body. “So if that’s how you think this is going to go, back out now.”
“I know. I remember, and I don’t want gentle. I want you to…” She sucked in a breath as he shoved aside her robe and found her nipple with his teeth and tongue.
“Oh, God.” Throwing her head back against the wall, she hooked one soft leg around his thigh. “I want you to fuck me, Travis. Hard. Right here.”
Christ, how could a man say no to that? He scooped his hands under her ass, marveling that sweet, innocent Mara had answered her door while commando underneath her robe. He’d almost expected sensible cotton underpants like the pair she’d had on the first time he’d stripped her bare over the summer. But, no, not this Mara. There was something different about her now, something intoxicatingly female that called to his baser instincts. She was a dark, seductive flame, wrapping herself around him, all heat and spice. She might very well burn him alive, and he didn’t care.
Using his body to pin her against the wall, he freed up one hand to explore lower and found her open for him, already wet. He growled and claimed her mouth in another hard kiss, swallowing her groan as he slid two fingers into her.
“Oh, Travis. Oh, God. I think…I’m going to come. I’m going to…” She screamed and bucked against his hand, riding his fingers so hard he almost dropped her. Seeing her like this, watching her take pleasure from him with her eyes squeezed shut, her lush breasts bouncing with every undulation of her hips, her hair a wild, living storm cloud around her head, he wondered how he could have ever thought her shy. She was the most sensual, uninhibited woman he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing come.
And he wanted to see it again, and again, and again. Maybe for the rest of his life.
When her climax ebbed, he half expected embarrassed color to fill her cheeks. Readied himself for the possibility of seeing regret in her eyes. But she didn’t withdraw or demand he put her down. Her big brown eyes opened and met his as she reached a shaking hand between them and flipped open the button of his cargo pants. Then his zipper hissed down and his cock sprang free like the damn thing was spring-loaded. He might have been embarrassed by his obvious eagerness, but her fingers wrapped around him and slid down his shaft until she was cupping him at his base. She guided him toward her opening.
“Travis, please. Fuck me.”
Well, now. She was full of surprises tonight. He hadn’t expected this when he’d flown to El Paso to see her. Hell, he’d expected her to say whatever it was she needed to say then throw him out of her house, and that would be the end of it. But, no, she was just as desperate for him as he’d been for her. And he knew in that instant he was in trouble. Big trouble. The kind that started with sex and ended in a trip down the aisle. Part of him had known it when he walked away from her six weeks ago, which was exactly why he’d walked, but he should have fully realized it as soon as he heard her on his voicemail. What kind of guy dropped everything and bought a six-hundred-dollar plane ticket just because he heard a woman’s voice?
A love-struck guy, that’s what.
Alarm bells that had saved his life on more than one occasion jangled inside his mind. If ever he were going to turn chicken, now would be the time—but for the first time in his life, he ignored that ingrained alarm system.
Later. He’d worry about the alarms and the consequences later. Right now, he needed this woman like he needed his next breath. Wanted
the connection, craved the warmth she created inside that hollow area in his chest.
“Travis, please.”
He lifted her ass in his hands and drove his hips forward, burying himself to the balls inside her. So tight. Christ, he’d forgotten how tight she was, like a fist squeezing him. He sucked in gasping breaths, almost afraid to move, afraid even the slightest friction would end this when he wanted it to last forever.
Except Mara moaned and wrapped her legs tightly around him, swiveling her hips against his, and his last gossamer thread of control snapped. He pinned her against the wall and pounded into her so hard a picture fell, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to see a dent in the wall behind her when they were done. Someone started banging angrily on the wall next door.
Mara laughed. The sound soothed over him like a balm and he found himself grinning, too.
“Bedroom?” he asked.
She gripped the too-long strands of his hair and dragged his mouth to hers. “Not yet. Let’s give Señora Ruiz something to talk about with her bingo friends.”
“Roger that.” He took her with everything he had in him, driving her to another orgasm with merciless focus. Only after she came again, screaming, and her body clenched around him, did he allow himself the pleasure of his own release.
Gasping, wrung out, he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. For the first time in months, his muscles unknotted, the constant noise inside his head calmed.
Christ, she was like his own personal drug, and he’d been jonesing for more of her since November. And now that he’d had her again, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to quit her.
Yeah. He was in trouble.
He let her feet touch the floor again but couldn’t find it in him to let her go. They stood together on wobbly legs, both sweat slicked and breathing hard. A strand of hair stuck to the side of her face, and Quinn reached out to tuck it behind her ear.
Broken Honor Page 2