It seemed like forever before they were able to breathe normally again. After a quick shower, they nestled in bed, and Kaylee curled into Max's side.
"I heard from my publisher today,” she told him, her voice still thick with contentment.
"And?"
"They want the book. Maybe even a sequel.” She grinned up at him. “Do you think you have a sequel to offer me, Max?"
"I'd be happy to work on it,” he laughed. He kissed her forehead, then smiled. “Why the title, Kaylee?"
She twisted and rested her chin on his chest. “Well, the first time I walked into your bar, the music that was blaring was Tina Turner's “Simply The Best", and then I caught sight of you. That's when the whole idea started to take shape. So ... It seemed like the right title.” She laughed, and kissed his lips in a soft, loving caress. “Besides, Max, I know now that you are the best!"
"Flattery like that is gonna get you anything you want, baby,” he told her.
"Hmmmm ... I'll keep that in mind, believe me!"
Max laughed. “Go to sleep, baby.
Chapter 9
"You're not serious,” Max laughed when she sat across the table from him and poured coffee. He put down his fork and waited for her to answer him. They were settled into their beach house, recently purchased from Roger Gilmore at a sizeable profit to him, and while life was better for Max than it had ever been, Kaylee still managed to surprise the hell out of him on a regular basis.
"I have to work today, Max,” she repeated, her grin impish, giving her the appearance of a mischievous child.
"It's Sunday."
"And I have to have this presentation ready for tomorrow morning,” she replied quietly. “I've been working on it since we got back from Hawaii."
"How long will it take?"
"Why? You have a bar to run, remember?"
"I was hoping you'd spend the day with me,” he admitted. “Baldwin's been calling, and I think we need to talk."
She leaned back in her chair and eyed him closely for several minutes. He was right; she'd just been blinding herself to the need to look beyond the happiness she was presently feeling.
"Okay, you win,” she decided. When his smile threatened to turn triumphant, she held up her hand. “There's a condition, Commander,” she added sharply.
Max's eyebrow rose and he gestured for her to go on.
"I'm still going to work,” she said firmly. “But, I will use your computer, and have your office for as long as I need it. Do we have a deal?"
"Only if you promise to take breaks,” he grinned.
"Max, if you're going to make this impossible, I'm staying right here—and you're not!"
"But, this is my home, Kaylee,” he reminded her with a grin.
"Mine, too, sweetheart,” she returned. “And I need to work as well as..."
"As well as?” Max challenged with a wicked gleam in his dark eyes.
"Max, I intend to keep my clothes on for at least the next few hours, okay?"
Max held up his hands in mock surrender.
"Whatever you want,” he murmured, and she had the distinct impression she hadn't won in spite of his acquiescence.
* * * *
Max looked around his office in mild amazement. There were open files on every available space; classical music, enhanced by the howls of a wolf pack, hummed low and unobtrusive in the background; and Kaylee moved from the computer at his desk to the various file folders she'd brought with her.
"What the hell are you planning with all this, a city block?
"Nope.” She smiled up at him. “Just a new building complex."
He shrugged and followed her back to the desk, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as she typed in another reference note to her proposal.
"You're supposed to be working in the bar,” Kaylee pointed out, glancing upward at him.
"It's lunch time,” he told her. “I want lunch."
"Am I expected to prepare it, or complement it?"
"You are it,” Max assured her.
"Max."
He ignored the hint of admonishment and sat on the edge of his desk, pulling her carefully from her chair to position her between his spread thighs. He leaned forward and kissed the shadowy hollow that her open neckline emphasized; his fingers were already working the buttons of her blouse.
"Max, this is important,” she pleaded softly. “I'm almost finished."
"Then a short break isn't going to put you behind,” he reasoned with a faintly leering grin.
"Max!"
He had her silk shirt unbuttoned and opened and was looking at her scarlet push-up bra.
"And here you are pretending you don't want me to notice your ... assets,” he teased.
"My “assets” are off limits at the moment,” she retorted with a laugh. “Oh, shit! Stop that, Max!” Her body shivered as his hands cupped her breasts and fondled, while his mouth started a slow, sensuous rediscovery of her neck. His lips continued their erotic trek upward until his mouth caught hers in a kiss that was hot and hungry. When she broke the caress with gasp, Max smiled at her.
"Can you rearrange this paperwork, Kaylee?"
"Sure. Why?"
Max turned and pushed everything to the edge of the desk, then he picked her up and sat her on the cleared surface.
"Max, what the hell are you doing?"
He reached under her skirt and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, then tugged them downward. He slid the scrap of lace and silk past her ankles and dropped it on the desk, then he unzipped his jeans and pushed them, with his briefs, down to his knees. He smiled as he spread her legs wide and pulled her to the edge of the desktop.
"I'm going to fuck you on my desk,” he informed her. “Why don't you unhook that bra so I can look at your tits while we're at it.” His jeans were at his feet now, and he stepped free of them.
"Max..."
He ran a finger along her slit and laughed. “C'mon, baby, you're already wet and wanting."
She trembled when one of his long fingers started sliding in and out of her in slow strokes. She unhooked the bra and let it and the shirt slip from her shoulders. Max immediately ducked his head and caught one of her engorged nipples in his mouth, sucking leisurely on the ripe bud.
"Max?"
"What is it, Kaylee?"
"My pussy really wants your cock, baby."
Max lifted her hips and thrust, buried fully in her tight heat in a single motion. Kaylee's head fell back and her eyes closed as she let her body melt into his touch. She wrapped her legs around his waist and Max started a slow, steady rhythm, fully caught in the waves of rapture that flooded over him with each thrust into her slick, wet heat.
"Max, you feel so good."
He slowed his body and lifted her into his arms. Still maintaining their joining, he walked to the couch and carefully knelt, lowering her onto the creaking leather while he stayed buried inside her. When they were comfortable and secure, he started building their rhythm again, and Kaylee met him thrust for thrust, urging him on with words and soft moans of agonized pleasure. Her hips rose as her climax hit and Max groaned at the sudden clench of her body around him; he pushed deep into her and while her muscles held him tight his orgasm crested and spilled into her rippling channel.
He closed his eyes and their foreheads touched as sanity returned, and their bodies relaxed.
"Max?” Her voice was soft and blurred with satisfaction. She kissed his cheek, then claimed his lips in a slow, sensual caress. “I love you."
"I love you, too, Kaylee."
"Maybe we should get dressed now?” She made the suggestion with a grin, her fingers smoothing over the perfect planes of his face. “You really are gorgeous, Max,” she murmured, and kissed him again.
"Get dressed, baby,” Max said a short while later. “We'll go have lunch."
"I thought I was lunch,” she quipped.
Max's eyes raked over her when he stood up, and he smiled. She was so hot, a
nd so utterly sexy that he was already itching to make love with her again. He shook his head. “When we get back, you're dessert, honey."
Kaylee's laughter was low and seductive.
"Oh, Max,” she breathed softly. “I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
"Used to what?” He asked, pulling his pants into place and zipping them. He tossed her underwear to her and watched as she slipped into them.
"You wanting me so much.” She was about to put her bra on again, and Max took it from her and handed her the discarded shirt. “Max, for crying out loud. Give me that,” she demanded, reaching for the bra.
He shook his head and laughed. “Just wear the shirt, honey,” he requested.
"You can practically see through the shirt,” she snapped.
"I know,” he grinned. “I want to see your tits,” he whispered. “I love it when your nipples get tight and beg for my attention.” His fingers closed over her breasts and squeezed, caressing until her nipples were erect and pressing into his palms. “I don't believe this,” he murmured, pressing her back to his chest so she could feel his cock, hard and eager already. “I want you again, baby."
"Animal,” she purred. “You drive,” she told him after she'd turned in his arms and covered his crotch with her hand. She rubbed the hard ridge of his arousal. “I'll take care of this while you find a nice place for lunch."
Max's eyes darkened as she watched and he kissed her deeply.
"If you're planning what I hope you're planning,” he said softly, “then lunch is going to be someplace quite a few miles from here."
"Well,” she replied, tone breathy with eroticism, “since I'm planning to suck your cock the whole time, I hope it's not too close by."
Max groaned and they headed for his office, only to be stopped mid-step a moment later by the sound of angry pounding on the outside door to the bar. The playfulness left Max's mood as she watched, and a cold chill rushed up her spine.
"Stay here,” he directed, unconsciously adopting the tone he used to issue orders to his team.
Kaylee recognized the change in his voice and merely nodded as he left the office. A nebulous chill kissed the back of her neck and she hugged herself tightly, stepping to the two-way glass to stare down into the barroom. Max disappeared from sight as he went to the front door and she unconsciously held her breath. He returned a moment later, and Kaylee jumped back, despite her knowledge that the window was a mirror on the other side so her presence was hidden. Three men had come into the bar, all heavily armed. The leader held a gun to Max's back and spoke in a language that sounded familiar to Kaylee, but wasn't clear enough for more than surface understanding that she did know it.
Forcing her body to move, Kaylee silently went to Max's desk. She kicked her purse beneath the desk, blanked the screen of her work, opened the top drawer and found his cell phone. She snatched the phone, then spotted the gun that was at the back of the drawer. Shaking, she took a deep breath and grabbed the weapon, too. She closed the drawer and glanced around. The only immediate escape was the hall, or the bathroom that adjoined the office. Footsteps in the short corridor made the decision for her and she darted into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her.
* * * *
Max waited, every nerve in his body alive and alert. He didn't have to understand the language being spoken to know that the man at his back was issuing orders to have the bar searched. He schooled his face to careful neutrality, and hoped that Kaylee would escape with her life.
His stare never wavered as one of the black-clad intruders went into his office.
* * * *
Kaylee watched through the crack in the nearly closed door, her heartbeat roaring so loudly in her ears she was certain it would give away her location to the man who prowled Max's office. He came toward her and she waited, dread creating a cold sweat between her shoulder blades. The door began to move inward and she stood behind it, flattened to the wall, mentally pleading for a miracle.
It came.
A shout from the bar ended his intrusion, the cursory glance he gave the room all the attention he deigned to waste.
She waited again.
Several minutes passed in silence before she flipped open the cell phone and dialed.
* * * *
"Nothing, Muammar."
An instant later the second of the men returned and nodded his agreement with his partner's assessment.
Max ignored them, his mind already searching for a way out, and an explanation for how Kaylee had escaped detection. There was also the detail of the Whitney Wolverine he kept in his desk. Kaylee's Christmas gift to him when they'd known each other several months and celebrated the holiday together for the first time. It wouldn't have been overlooked in a search, which meant she must have the weapon in her possession. That thought didn't comfort him in the slightest—Kaylee hated guns; the necessity of her actually having to use one wasn't something Max wanted to face.
"What's this about?” he asked casually, the conversation an automatic reaction, something he was hardly aware of as he measured the men who'd taken him so unexpectedly.
"We're here for Windsor,” the leader of the trio announced.
Max's eyebrows rose and he laughed.
"Your Intel's a little dated, gentlemen,” he replied, tone ironic and sincerely surprised. “He retired awhile back."
"Then you will tell us where we can find him,” Muammar smiled without warmth, his heavily accented voice adding distinct threat to the simple statement.
"I don't think so,” Max answered with feigned regret.
His reward for the refusal was a sharp blow to the lower part of his back. He stumbled forward, gasping.
* * * *
"Damn!"
Kaylee glared at the phone and broke the ringing connection. She'd tried Tommy and Marg, neither of them was answering, only their services. She didn't know how to reach Kevin Johnston. She thought, desperately; and finally gave up. She dialed another number, and waited. A few rings into the call a sleepy voice mumbled into the phone.
"T.J.! Thank God. I need to reach Carter. Tell me how?"
"Kaylee?"
"Yes, how do I get through to him, T.J.? It's urgent."
"What's happened to the commander?” The sleep had left his voice and it was calm and controlled, comforting.
"Nothing, yet,” she responded in a harsh whisper. “I can't reach Tommy or Marg. I don't know who else to call. I'm in the bar, and Max's being held at gunpoint downstairs. They haven't found me yet."
"Leave it with me,” he assured her. “Stay put, Kaylee,” he added firmly.
She flipped the phone shut when the line went dead, and huddled in the corner, the gun awkwardly held in her free hand.
* * * *
"He's still not here,” Max told the intruders, once he'd caught his breath and was able to stand up straight again.
"This does not have to be your last day, Commander Richmonte,” the group leader laughed.
"Glad to hear it,” Max answered.
The man the others had addressed as Muammar walked to the bar and picked up a telephone. He brought the instrument back and offered it to Max.
"Call him, Commander,” he ordered. “And you can go back to whatever it is you do here."
* * * *
Kaylee's heart all but leapt from her chest when the low chirp of the cell phone sounded. She dragged in a gasp of air and flipped open the phone.
"Kaylee?"
Tears flooded her eyes and she nodded, before realizing the wordless response couldn't be understood.
"Carter, someone has Max downstairs. I've been listening from his office. They're speaking Arabic among themselves. I think they're looking for T.J.,” she concluded.
"How is it you recognize Arabic, Kaylee?"
"I used to study languages. I wanted to be a translator in a former life. If you must know, I speak half dozen different languages, fluently."
He accepted the information without comme
nt. “How many are there?"
"Three that I've seen."
"Do they know he's not alone?"
"No."
"I've called the team,” he told her gently. “Stay hidden. We'll get you both out, I promise."
She smiled at his kindness.
"You know better than to make that kind of promise, Carter,” she reminded him in a tone that was warm and mild chiding. His ironic chuckle held the same warmth, and she smiled unconsciously. “Thank you."
"Keep the phone close, honey,” he advised, then broke the connection.
* * * *
"Who sent you here?” Max asked, ignoring the proffered phone.
"Don't force me to make this a most unpleasant meeting, Commander,” Muammar smiled, his eyes betraying just how much he would enjoy inflicting suffering on the American officer.
Max shook his head, and braced for more pain...
* * * *
Kaylee bit the side of her hand as she watched Max being battered to the floor. She felt the reverberations of his agony and her stomach churned in shared anguish. She almost dropped the phone when it sounded, its tone muted from inside her pocket.
"Yes?"
"Hey, darlin'."
She forced herself to turn away from the window and forget Max for a moment. Tommy's smooth, casual tone was ridiculously soothing and reassuring.
"They're beating him,” she whispered. “They want T.J., and he won't cooperate."
"Where are you?"
"The office."
"Do you know where the command center is?"
"The basement, but I don't know how to reach it."
"There's a door at the back of the office,” he told her. “Looks like it leads to a receiving entrance. Get to it,” he directed. “Keep this connection open."
She'd reached the door as they spoke and now peered intently into the hallway. The three intruders were fully occupied with their assault. She took a deep breath, closed the door again, then darted toward the rear of the club. She dared to breathe.
"What now, Tommy?"
"Open the panel on the wall."
"Got it,” she answered. “It's the lighting panel?"
"Move the bottom right switch to the right."
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