Always Been Mine

by Victoria Paige

  “You taste so fucking good,” he growled as he crawled up her body, pulled the waistband of his sweats down and thrust into her. “Fuck, babe.” He leaned his forehead on hers as he savored the initial sheathing of her warmth around his cock. He started to move. “So good, so good. Fucking tight. So slick . . .”

  Shit, condom.

  Gabe was tempted to blow his load inside her, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He pulled out reluctantly. Beatrice’s whimper of protest almost made him want to thrust back inside her. His fingers shook as he ripped the foil of the condom.

  Fuck. Fuck.

  He quickly rolled it on. Lifting her hips, he punched forward, burying himself so deep inside her; a feral sound escaped him. He wouldn’t last. He would never get enough of her. Beatrice’s hands came up his shoulders. He grabbed her wrists and slammed them above her head as the need to dominate surged inside him. Their eyes locked, watching each other as he moved above her. He lost himself once again in her emerald depths. When her eyes shut, the grip of her silken channel tightened around his girth. “I can’t hold back . . . FUCK!”

  It started from the base of his spine, the pleasure shooting up his back, his neck muscles tensing as his astounding climax took over. He continued pumping his hips furiously until he was spent, and all he could do was collapse on top of her.

  He rubbed his cheek against hers, their faces slick with sweat. He was overtaken with contentment. She was back. She was once again his Beatrice.

  There was a deep indrawn breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Frowning, Gabe levered himself on his elbows, and what he saw splintered his heart.

  Beatrice was crying silently.

  “I can’t,” she whispered brokenly.

  Two words. She shattered him with two words.

  *****

  They avoided each other’s eyes after having had mind-blowing sex. What did she expect? That they could simply pick up where they left off three years ago? She wasn’t ready and she let lust control her actions. She could blame Gabe for taking advantage of her moment of weakness, but she knew that wasn’t his intention. He wanted to comfort her the best way he could. Things got out of hand and they both gave in.

  So, they were adults, right? It was just sex. Big freaking deal.

  But it was a big deal.

  She and Gabe hadn’t discussed the present Colombian problem. They let their personal issues come between them. They couldn’t work together like this.

  The doorbell chimed. Beatrice sighed in relief. She had called Doug to bring over a change of clothes and be her ride home. Gabe gave the command for Rhino to settle down and opened the door to her assistant who promptly glared at Gabe. Not bothering with any greeting, he headed straight for Beatrice and hugged her. Fortunately, she didn’t cry. She’d had enough of that. It wasn’t funny because she rarely cried. Doug handed her her clothes and she disappeared into the guest room.

  She could hear harsh whispered words being exchanged in the other room. She quickly donned her clothes because Doug’s voice was getting louder. Gabe’s was still a steady baritone cadence, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come to blows.

  “Doug, can you wait for me outside, please?” Beatrice gave her friend a nudge when she returned to the living room.

  “No, Bee. Enough is enough; you don’t need to say anything more to this asshole.”

  “Wait for me outside,” Beatrice repeated in exasperation. When her assistant still hesitated, she added, “Please? I’ll be fine, truly.”

  Casting one more dirty look at Gabe, Doug said, “I’ll be right outside the door.”

  When they were alone once more, their eyes finally met.

  “I don’t want to see you for a while,” Beatrice said.

  Gabe’s eyes flashed in anger. “Is that your answer? Avoiding me?”

  “I need to process what you told me, Gabe. I can’t just turn off three years of hurt. I understand more of your reasons now, but it doesn’t mean I want us back together.”

  Frustrated, guttural sounds worked in his throat. “Bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?” This time her temper flared.

  He prowled toward her. She held her ground as they both stared challengingly at each other.

  “You heard me. I call bullshit,” Gabe repeated. “Fireworks. You deny we just burned those sheets between us.”

  “A relationship is not simply about sex.”

  “I agree. But the most honest reaction I’ve ever gotten from you is when I watch you come when I’m buried deep inside you. I want you back. I’m not about to let you push me away because of some fear that I’m walking out on you again because I won’t. I swear. I’m all in, babe. All yours.” His hand came up to cup her face. “So tell me, what’s the problem?”

  “I . . . I just need some time.”

  “I’ll give you a day.”

  “What the hell kind of time is that?”

  “I give you a day. I need to get some shit done anyway, and you’re not leaving your condo tomorrow.”

  “I have a meeting with BSI.”

  At Gabe’s unbending stare, Beatrice sighed. “I can have Nate pick me up.”

  “What is Nate to you?”

  “He’s a friend.”

  “Have you fucked him?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no,” Beatrice retorted.

  “Oh, I’m making it my business, babe.” He bent low, his warm breath fanning her ear. Releasing her jaw, he trailed the back of his fingers down the length of her torso, her hips. “Everything to do with this sweet body of yours, down right to here”—he cupped her between her legs and she couldn’t bring herself to stop him—“is my business. Do you know why?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  He grinned at her defiance. “Because you’ve always been mine. Your brain has not caught up yet, but your body cannot fucking deny how it wants mine.”

  “Again, sex, no matter how good it is, does not make us together.” Beatrice wanted to pull her hair out.

  “We will be.”

  “WE ARE NOT TOGETHER!”

  Gabe sighed. “Take some time tomorrow and think about us.”

  “There is no us!” Gah! What an annoying man!

  “Beatrice,” Gabe whispered, brushing her lips gently. “I love you, babe.”

  She melted into a puddle right there.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “So you’re saying we might expect a hit in Colombia?”

  Edward Shepard was the BSI team lead assigned on Senator Alex Mendoza’s security detail. He was studying the threat-analysis report Beatrice prepared for them, which included some speculations of the related violence in the Cloverleaf District. Travis and Nate were also in the room.

  “That’s where I see the biggest threat coming from,” Beatrice said. “I met with Alex Mendoza yesterday and informed him we’re close to forming a team for him. His South American trip won’t begin until next year, but he agreed that it would be best to be familiar with his personal security in the next few months. Then we can expand it next year to include his entire delegation.”

  “What’s with the Fuego connection?” Travis asked, his eyes most likely skimming to the last page of the report.

  Beatrice sighed. She had not discussed this with Gabe yet, and her father had been off the grid. She would need to get with Ashe and Duke soon to see what else they dug up. “I’m not sure where they exactly fit. It just seemed coincidental that the women who attacked me last week are now dead and linked to Fuego. I’m having someone look into it.”

  “Who’s looking into it?” Travis cut in. “Beatrice, you know better than to involve too many people in this.”

  “I had no choice, okay?” Beatrice’s eyes flashed in annoyance. “Apparently, Gabe, and I hazard a guess, my dad, were already one step ahead of me and made the connection before I did. I dunno why they would use a motorcycle club to do their—”

  “Motorcycle club? Not the Iron Skull
s?” Travis didn’t look happy.

  “Uh, yes,” Beatrice replied warily.

  Nate cursed. “Who?”

  “Ashe and Duke.”

  Travis bolted from his chair and paced the room, his hand rubbing against his jaw in a gesture of agitation.

  “Am I missing something here?” Beatrice asked.

  “Remember that time Travis took Caitlin out of town after the Russians ambushed them?” Nate asked.

  “Yes?”

  “They had a run in with the Iron Skulls and later the Fuego gang.”

  “Oh, my God, was that the shoot-out in the small town?”

  “Yup. We couldn’t account for the sniper who took out one of the Fuegos. Travis speculated that sniper was Crowe, the man who shot Caitlin and worked for your dad,” Nate added.

  “I remember him,” Beatrice murmured. No coincidences.

  Travis stopped pacing and sat in his chair. “I bet the admiral has the necessary answers to make sense out of all this, and I have a feeling we’re not going to like it.”

  Gabe definitely had more explaining to do as well, Beatrice fumed.

  “We did have a run-in yesterday at Cloverleaf,” Beatrice confessed. “That two dead and one critical from gang violence yesterday—”

  “I caught that in the news this morning,” Travis said. “Damn it, Bee, was that you? Was Gabe with you?”

  “He was.”

  “What’s going on with you two?” Nate asked sharply.

  “All right, let’s stay on point in this meeting,” Beatrice retorted. “We can talk about my personal life later. Anyway, I managed to filch the wallet off one of the dead guys to see if I could find a connection to any threats to Senator Mendoza, but the guy’s a dead end. He is a U.S. citizen and I couldn’t find any links back to Colombia.”

  Ed flicked through the brief. “What exactly were you hoping to find?”

  “From what the senator told me, his trip to Colombia is to pressure their government to increase monitoring over some of the businesses that may be working with drug traffickers. With no drug cartels to speak of, most of the drug traffickers are using the Mexican cartels to move their stuff and it’s cutting into their profits. I hear they’ve gotten creative.”

  “How so?” Nate asked.

  “Remember that recent bust in Virginia Beach regarding a hundred million dollars’ worth of cocaine stored in juice cans?”

  The men nodded.

  “Well, there’s speculation that they’re moving it under the guise of sacks of coffee beans or cans of ground coffee.”

  “Holy shit!” Ed muttered. “That would be hard to track. Colombia is one of the world’s largest exporters of coffee.”

  “Exactly. So, instead of increasing funding for Border Security and Customs, it would be better to address the problem at the source. The senator is hoping to convince the Colombian government that it’s in their best interest to do so.”

  “Good luck with that,” Nate muttered.

  “Corruption and bribery is rife in Colombia,” Beatrice agreed. “The outcome of the senator’s trip is not our problem. Our concern is making sure the senator will be protected against harm. We need to do background checks on the businesses that stand to lose in case the government decides to crack down on drugs. We’re also going in at a time when the peace talks between the government and the left wing guerrillas and right wing paramilitary groups are at a flashpoint. Senator Mendoza and his delegation can be a target if talks break down, so we have to consider routes, convoy formations, and safe haven alternatives in case of an ambush.”

  “We’ve got this.” Ed nodded in reassurance.

  *****

  “I’m proud of you, Dmitry.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Grigori Zorin clasped his shoulder. “Almost three years you’ve shown your unwavering loyalty. You know you’re almost like a son to me.”

  “I know, sir. Again, for that I’m grateful. You have been most generous.”

  “You should marry one of my daughters.”

  “Sir?”

  “You’d do well to run the Zorin Bratva one day.”

  Dmitry nodded tightly.

  Gabe sat in the outer offices of BSI, waiting for Beatrice to be done with her meeting. It was almost 7:00 p.m. The rumors were true: Travis Blake was a slave driver. He observed Emily Shephard, who worked efficiently at the reception area fielding calls, filing documents away, and doing whatever she was doing in front of the computer.

  He couldn’t stay away for 24 hours. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see her again. He’d met with Ashe and Duke earlier. Gabe knew he was being underhanded filtering information before any of it reached Beatrice. She was a damned loose cannon, and with Porter not answering his phone, Gabe didn’t know what he was going to do with the information. There was still that matter of Crowe having an accomplice in the Fuego gang, and if this killing had nothing to do with Beatrice’s client, it was best they kept the information classified. Luisa Delgado was killed with a garrote, while the others were killed execution style—single bullet to the back of the head. The question Gabe had was why not execute everyone with a bullet?

  “They should be finished soon,” Emily smiled at him.

  The office door opened and a blonde woman walked in. Travis’s wife, Caitlin. Gabe felt a stab of guilt. He knew her when she was Sarah.

  “Hey, Emily, is Travis almost done? We don’t want to be late for our dinner reservation,” Caitlin said.

  “Why don’t you head on back and shoo them out of Conference Room 2. Ed and I have to be somewhere as well.”

  Gabe decided to re-introduce himself and got up from the couch just as Caitlin pivoted toward him.

  All color leached from her face. A mixture of terror and anger took over her entire body as she leapt behind the reception area, startling Emily. Before he knew it, a 9-mm was pointed at him.

  Fuck. Gabe was not having a good feeling about this. He raised his arms instinctively.

  “Cat, what’s going on?” Emily screeched.

  Travis’s wife continued glaring at him. A stampede of footsteps rushed from the hallway. She must have pushed the panic button.

  Travis burst into the room.

  “Cat?” Travis’s eyes widened when they landed on Gabe. “Why are you pointing a gun at Gabe?”

  “Gabe?” Caitlin asked. “What are you talking about? That’s a Russian hit man.”

  Double fuck.

  *****

  “Cat, put the gun down.”

  Beatrice cleared the door and froze when she saw the scene before her. She had never seen Cat look so terrified. And why the hell was she pointing the gun at Gabe?

  “He’s Bee’s Gabriel?” Caitlin asked.

  “I’m sure she doesn’t want to admit it right now,” Gabe said, smirking. Only Gabe would smirk with a gun pointed at him. “She’s in denial, but she’ll come around.”

  Beatrice rushed to Gabe’s side even before Caitlin fully lowered the gun.

  “You must have me confused with someone else,” Gabe added.

  Lie. Beatrice knew. She just knew Caitlin was right, and with that knowledge came a whole new level of anxiety.

  “I don’t understand,” Caitlin whispered. “I saw you meet with Jase. He didn’t know I followed him. I was worried because he said he was cutting a deal with a Russian hit man. It was you.” Beatrice hated how Caitlin looked troubled. “It was you,” she whispered again.

  Travis walked to his wife’s side and put an arm around her shoulder. He jerked a chin at Ed, who understood and walked straight to the exit door, locking it.

  Beatrice felt Gabe turn solid beside her. These guys were not letting him out without answers.

  “Care to tell us the truth, Gabe?” Travis said icily. “I figured that’s how the admiral got Jase’s letter?”

  Gabe didn’t say anything. Fury was evident in every line of Travis’s body as he left Caitlin’s side and stalked toward Gabe.

  “Tell m
e, Sullivan,” Travis said coldly. “Did you know my wife was alive? Were you part of the whole fucking cover-up?”

  No answer.

  A fist flew. And then another and then another. Travis hammered away at Gabe until they both fell to the floor. Travis straddled him and continued punching; Gabe blocked some blows, but didn’t fight back.

  Beatrice yelled for Travis to stop; Ed held her back. It was Nate who finally dragged Travis away from Gabe.

  “You motherfucking son of a bitch,” Travis roared. “You were my friend! My brother. How could you?”

  “I wasn’t a part of the accident,” Gabe said quietly, getting to his feet. “I only found out about Caitlin six months before you found her.”

  “You’re lying!” Travis growled.

  “You know how it is, Lieutenant. I can’t reveal specifics of a mission.”

  “You’ve been working with Porter?”

  Gabe inclined his head.

  “Are you Dmitry?” Caitlin asked, walking toward Gabe. “Porter called a guy named Dmitry with the coordinates for the plutonium cache.”

  “Wait a minute,” Travis’s eyes narrowed. “The Zorin Bratva. Dmitry Yerzov was his assassin.” Travis’s arm wrapped protectively around Caitlin. “Fuck, Gabe. That was you?”

  Gabe’s throat worked convulsively. He wanted to come clean, but he decided against it. “I’m not confirming or denying.”

  Travis growled, dropped his arms around Caitlin and started for Gabe again.

  “Hit me again, Lieutenant, but this time I’m retaliating,” Gabe warned.

  Beatrice decided to step in. “Let’s calm down for a moment, Travis.” She looked at Caitlin who nodded and hugged her husband’s waist to calm him down.