Jackson gaped at them. They were the elements—sex, life, death and need. Something about them was so decadently carnal that he couldn’t look away and yet felt shame that he watched. He could see their tongues moving as mouths pressed open in moaning need to taste more. Blaster’s hands each held one of those perfect bottom cheeks and he kneaded them roughly as her body rode him in undulating demand.
The clawing kiss escalated in intensity and Jackson felt the need to back up as if the heat rolling off them were scorching him.
Abruptly Jas’ body went rigid as her back arched to slam her hips into Blaster. Her head came up and a low snarl hissed out of her throat. Blaster’s mouth went immediately to her breast. His teeth clamped around a jutting nipple through her vest, biting down and sending shuddering jerks through her body. He was growling, a rumbling bestial sound that mingled with hers.
Jackson stumbled back another step and was grateful the truck bed wall hit him in the ass. Watching her forced him to control the need to come as her body undulated. He was shocked. She hadn’t come but he needed to. Jackson’s hands reached back to grip the truck bed on either side of his body, propping himself up as he gaped at them.
Jas slowly relaxed, collapsing into Blaster, her legs still wrapped around him as her body surrendered to his hold. Head on his shoulder, they both were breathing harshly, though Blaster kissed her neck tenderly. Deep rumbling growls interrupted the kisses. Her body melted while his remained rigid, though his hands gentled and petted. Jackson felt his own harsh breathing match their cadence as swirling sexual energy flowed around the couple.
Her legs slowly slid down Blaster until her feet were on the ground again but their hold on each other didn’t loosen.
“I want more than that, woman,” Blaster breathed into her hair.
“Then let me trust you.” Jas pulled back to look him in the eye. “Be there when I call you.” Jas turned away from him and strode to the bike. She slung a leg over and was mounted, grabbed the helmet and strapped it on.
“Lordy, give me strength. I’m as crazy as Blaster,” Jackson murmured as she fired it up.
The snarl of the big bike coming to life echoed into the twilight, a warning. It was the roar of a lioness across savanna plains. The huntress was hungry.
Jas idled down the engine and lifted her visor to look Blaster in the eye. “I want to trust you.” The big engine revved, she flipped the visor down and the woman took off.
Both men watched as she disappeared into gathering night. Blaster stared after her in grim silence.
Finally moving, Jackson went to the back of the truck and carefully closed the burlap over its gruesome contents, using the panties to secure it again since there was nothing else handy. He gently set the package in the toolbox behind the cab. “Going to stand there mooning after her all night?” he asked quietly.
“No.” Blaster strode to the cab. “You did get a mic in the jacket, right?” Blaster shot Jackson a narrow glance as both men strapped in and Blaster started up the vehicle.
“Of course. Only place I had to put it since I didn’t get a kiss goodbye.” Jackson grinned at Blaster’s dark scowl.
“You could have put up more of a fight over the bike. She’s gotta know it has a locator since you gave it up so easy.”
“Hey, I’d already sounded like a Sally-boy for you. She’d figure it out anyway if she’s half as smart as you claim. You let her go too damn easy. I still think it’s a shitty idea. Where’s she going?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Christ, Blaster. That’s a damn huge gamble. I thought you two were involved. That kiss sure looked involved. Jesus, she brings the heat.”
“The kiss is none of your damn business. Don’t even think about it. Got it? Not a thought, asshole. And I know it’s a risk. It was the only way to earn her trust. It’s not like I’m in love with this plan.”
Blaster pulled into the Laundromat. “What the fuck are we doing here? The plane is thirty minutes out the other side of town.”
“Picking up her laundry and getting her things from the motel. I need to tell Barry, the director, his star is gone for a few days. Then we go to the plane.”
“What? Did she slip a ‘to-do’ list in your mouth with her tongue? When did you become her errand boy?” Jackson slid out of the truck with Blaster but didn’t go in. Scowling, he stood with his back to the store making it obvious he was watching the surroundings. Five minutes later Blaster came out with the bag of clothes.
“How’d you get her laundry dry?” Jackson asked.
“She’s popular. One of the women on the movie did it after we left.” Blaster slung the bag into the truck bed and hopped in the cab. They headed for the motel.
Amazed, Jackson regarded Blaster critically. “Seriously, why are you wasting time with this shit? She could be anywhere by now.”
“I take care of her and this is what needs taking care of.” Blaster shot Jackson a glare. “You did come down in the jet, right?”
“Yeah”
“Jet beats bike. We’ll catch up.”
“She could have turned off the locator by now. We need to get to the plane.”
“If she’s gonna do that, she’ll change direction as soon as she does it. Don’t matter when we realize we can’t follow her. These are things I can do. Now shut up with the whining.”
“I’m not whining, I’m pointing out logical information. You’re the one acting like her damn butler when we should be double-timing to the jet.”
“Get off my six, Jack. She’s my woman and I’ll take care of her how I see fit. We will not crowd her. What part of your brain doesn’t get it? She will not trust me or any of us if we don’t keep our word,” Blaster snarled at Jackson. Tension was consuming him in ways he’d never felt before. Hard and deep, a knot lodged in his gut that was eating him from the inside out.
“The part of my brain that doesn’t get it is the one that keeps seeing fingers with pretty nail polish and no soft hands attached. That shithead is not playing. You just let her ride off into the sunset like some fucking hero in a movie. Life is never like the movies. You know that! Even a battle plan, when we have months to prepare and scope things out, is only good for the first five minutes of action. Then it’s work with what’s left. We don’t even have a plan!” Jackson swung out again as they parked in front of her motel door to do the obvious guard thing.
“Yeah, seems to be a glitch.” Blaster went into the motel room to gather her things and call Barry.
Little over forty minutes later Jackson was powering up the jet while Blaster flicked on the receiver for the locator. It was a special custom-made model built specifically for the Unit vehicles. Nothing was impossible to circumvent, but these were as close as they could make it and transmitted piggyback on a commercial band. It looked like normal static unless a person had the proper receiver.
“Damn, she’s headed straight for Georgia.” Jackson came back from the cockpit into the cabin to lean over Blaster’s shoulder. Blaster was studying several southern maps and the laptop locator screen as the green dot moved with Jas’ progress. They weren’t taking off until they knew where to go.
“Jesus, there has to be some mark she knows about, a place this guy is likely to be. She’s not headed on a trajectory that’d take her to the base. Well, not directly to it.” Blaster rubbed a hand around the back of his neck as he watched the little light move on the screen. She was doing ninety or better on dark country roads in mountainous terrain. Traveling at that rate on the smaller roads told them she didn’t have far to go. Wherever she was going, she expected to get there tonight.
They could hear the low roar of the motorcycle through the mic Jackson has secured in the jacket. Suddenly the bike slowed as she turned off the roads marked on the map. The light on the screen jerked and swerved as if she were riding through rough terrain. Then it stopped. Both men watched with rapt attention. The engine noise stopped and all they heard was night sounds. Leather creaked as she dism
ounted.
A second later Jas’ voice came through in a soft monotone. “Since your pal didn’t bother to leave an earbud with the mic, you’ll just have to follow directions, Huck,” she said quietly, there was no further creaking of leather. “The jacket is too loud. I left it with the bike. I’m going to a cabin on Kash Mountain, south face about three miles off Steger Road on Coldwater Drive.”
Neither man moved in the plane, waiting to hear what was next. She’d obviously chosen to trust them, yet she also knew they were hobbled. If she’d gone a greater distance, they could have reached her quicker. As it was, they would have to take the same route she did to reach her. They couldn’t do it as fast since they didn’t know the terrain and were already more than an hour behind her.
“Hiking in to the cabin since the damn bike is so loud. It’ll take me about twenty minutes,” her hushed voice informed them. “I don’t know if the asshole is here, but I’m betting he is. His target is in the library and he’s gotta want to destroy anything that connects him to this location. If this is outta his hands, the shelves of disks I saw last time I was here are his weakness.
“If he’s here, there will be several sentries I’ll need to take care of first,” she continued quietly. “If he’s not, the security system is a bitch. Either way it’ll take about an hour before I’m in. I expect you here, Huckleberry. Bring your toys. This place needs to go after I get the rest of the evidence. Time we started sending messages back.
“I’ll leave the mic on for you in case I go down. Don’t disappoint me. Finish this.”
Then there was nothing but the chirp of crickets and occasional distant call of night birds.
“Fucking shit!” Blaster punched directions into the keyboard to get the log of her trip printed on a map.
Jackson called Gray and quickly laid out events as they knew them. “Hey, boss. Here is what we know. We have to bug out fast. Be on the comline if you have questions. Facts are, the plane that just went down in Florida was not an accident and connected to this case. An attorney on board, Cable Bourne, was the person holding evidence for Carson. The evidence of the first crime is in Bourne’s office safe. His name was gained by torturing and probably killing one Liana Allacosta. Proof of the tortured was delivered with a bag drop. Fingers in the bag are assumed to be from the hand of Liana Allacosta.”
“Roger that,” Gray confirmed he’d made note of the relevant facts.
“Our contact is live and moving. We’re forty minutes behind.”
Beside Jackson, Blaster was cursing in a steady stream as he gathered equipment and weapons to take with them. After Jackson was done outlining what had happened, Gray started barking a steady stream of questions that Jackson had no answers for, followed by clipped cursing.
Gray finally concluded, “You two let the woman go having no idea who she’s really up against?”
“Yep.”
Gray paused, conveying his deep disapproval with that silence. “But she’s talking to you on the comline?”
“Yep.”
“What frequency?”
Jackson gave the relevant info. “Let us know when you know more about the names I just gave you. I think we can consider this a high-level shitstorm. No idea where it’s gonna point.”
“This has politics written all over it,” Gray agreed. “Someone is in bed with bad guys and Ms. Carson is the key. I’ll see if the evidence has been acquired.”
“If you get it, don’t break the seal, boss. She has to trust us. Time to go,” Blaster growled as he carried the last thing they’d need out of the jet. It was the transmitter-receiver radio. Nothing but night sounds was coming through on it. Jackson flipped his phone shut and quickly powered down the jet before he secured the plane door, hopped to the tarmac and sprinted to the pickup.
“Worry about your woman, Blaster. I’ll take care of acquiring the evidence,” Gray assured them, already on the radio frequency they were using.
Just as Blaster inserted the key in the ignition, there was a soft grunt from the transmitter. Then a gurgling wheeze. Both men froze. It was the unmistakable sound of a person dying from a knife cut to the jugular. No way of knowing if it was Jas or someone else since no further sounds followed it. Blaster fired up the truck and took off.
Though he wasn’t familiar with the physical roads, Blaster had memorized the route.
She was out there fighting. He had to believe that had been Jas taking out a sentry. No other option was acceptable. Besides, if it were the other way around, the guards would have spoken by now, telling someone about the intruder. It was the worst possible outcome. He’d hoped the damn cabin would be empty, better yet, already destroyed. At least she’d be safe.
The site was live and hot. She was alone, she’d already put in a day’s work and then the shock of the fingers. Her ride on the bike had been fast and rough. Any man would be damn tired after all that and this woman was charging into battle. Probably not charging, more like slithering, but shit! Still going full steam and expecting him to “catch up” when it was over.
They had the receiver hooked up to earbuds. The noise of the road would make it difficult to hear without them. They both had mouthpieces since Gray was hooked into it with them.
Jackson glanced over at Blaster. It was twenty minutes into their drive and a third mark was down. “Two more kills. Your girl is working smart, she might live.”
“She’ll live,” Blaster answered grimly. “Gray, what were her Marine proficiencies?”
Silence for a few minutes after Blaster asked that.
“She’s A-1 across the board but no combat kills.”
“Three tonight,” Blaster corrected quietly.
Never in his life had he felt so damn proud, frustrated and helpless. He wanted to spank her but good, well, not really, but something like that. However, she was fucking amazing as a woman. Every time she touched him, he lit up as if his cock were a roman candle. Wanting her was probably common, he concluded. It was difficult to look at her and not imagine sinking into that fine flesh. Who didn’t want to know what a wildcat ride would be like?
But he liked her as well. Her humor, the sharp edge of her mind. The way she expected nothing of anyone. She wasn’t vain but she was proud and confident. The little he knew of her life told him she’d made a choice to be that way. Taught herself that she deserved better and then went after the life she wanted. Fearless, that was the word he’d use for her. Others would see it as reckless but he recognized it for the thing it was. A choice.
She refused to let fear rule her life. Still guessing, but he’d bet she’d made that choice as early as he had. Making that choice early meant there’d been a string of people who’d let her down. There was nothing Blaster wouldn’t do to stay off her list of disappointments.
He’d suspected he was falling as fast as any kid in first lust, but there was nothing sophomoric about where he was now. Warrior woman would be his in this life. Following her into hell to explain that to her busy ass was a pain, but she’d damn well better be expecting him.
Blaster’s foot was buried on the floorboard. The night sped past them as the deceptively dilapidated F-150 rocketed across the hills between southeastern North Carolina and the northern Georgia border.
Chapter Five
Jas wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand as the third sentry gurgled his last breath. She was unconcerned with the dirt and blood she probably left on her forehead. Leaning over, she heaved quietly. There was nothing left in her stomach. This time her physical reaction was separate from her mental one. It was as if she watched her revulsion from a calculating distance. The warrior regarded the woman’s response coldly, as if to say, Are you done yet? Lets go.
She hoped he was the last man outside. Eyeing the cabin, she breathed deeply to settle herself. There was no past, no future. Right now she was the center of the universe as her senses stretched out around her. Battle awareness. She’d heard of it, had been looking for it and not even realize
d it was already in attendance as it settled over her. Every receptor was razor-sharp, cataloging even the minutest changes in her environment.
The night was dark and she was grateful for a late-rising moon. Crickets chirped, telling her she was still mostly undetected. She noticed the small animals knew better. A hunter was stalking and they scurried away from the smell of death.
Resting on her heels, she reviewed her options for the benefit of her listeners. Talking in a barely audible flat tone, she outlined what she saw and her conclusions to the men she knew were listening. Going in the front door was the last thing the man inside would expect. She’d considered the back door but suspected it was a trap. It’d be a trap if that were her cabin. Also, was there really only one person in the cabin? The expanse of lawn would make her a target if she’d missed a sentry or a sniper who was hiding in some tree or waiting in a darkened window. No more time to worry about it.
Wanna Play (Ghost Unit, Book Three) Page 10