by Desiree Holt
Tia threw up her hands. “Fine but I’m staying here tonight. No way am I leaving you alone.”
“Okay, okay.”
She gathered up all the papers from the kitchen and locked them with her other notes in the wall safe in her den. Upstairs she found an oversized t-shirt for Tia to sleep in and clean towels for her. Then she climbed into bed but her mind was too restless for sleep to come.
Tidbit.
Mark? She sat bolt upright in bed. Oh, Mark. God, are you all right?
Hanging…on…love you…
Me too, soldier. I’ll get you out of this, I promise.
Careful…messages…intercept…
The other telepath. He was right. Especially if Rick Latrobe turned out to be an answer to her prayers. She couldn’t inadvertently give anything away.
Okay.
She waited for a response but all that surrounded her was black silence. Then the pain hit her again, so sharp and swift it took her breath away. Sweat broke out on her skin as she tried to ride it out. Eventually it eased enough for her to stumble to the bathroom and find some aspirin.
When she lay down in bed again she was shaking from head to toe.
I’ll get you out, Mark. I swear it.
Faith did her best to stay awake, sure that the fear would keep her adrenaline pumping, but without realizing it she dozed off.
She was on her hands and knees, pillows beneath her to brace her body. Mark knelt behind her, his hands on her hips, his teeth nipping lightly on her ass. Then his tongue licked over the tender places and electricity shot through her with stunning force.
She knew what he was going to do. It was all he’d talked about all night.
“I want that sweet little ass,” he said in a thick, husky voice. “I’ve wanted it forever.”
A dark thrill ran through her, her soaked pussy quivering and her body aching for him to take her. Just take her. All the different ways they’d made love, each new thing he’d introduced her to, had raised her level of need. She wanted it all with him. Every single thing that made them a part of each other.
Something cool settled against the tight puckered skin of her anus. At first she jerked at the sudden sensation, but as Mark’s finger spread it around and around she closed her eyes and let the twin sensations of heat and cool race over her and through her.
Inside, she wanted to shout. Let me feel you inside me. There.
More cool gel, more rubbing, and then finally his finger began its slow intrusion inside that waiting dark tunnel. Every muscle in her body contracted as it pushed farther and farther inside her, scraping the tiny embedded nerves along the passageway.
As he worked his finger inside her he murmured softly to her, erotic words that told her exactly what he was going to do to her. His words as much as his touch flamed the heat of rough passion wrapping around them both.
More gel and another finger joined the first, stretching her, stretching, stretching stretching.
“I want you,” she whimpered, pushing back at him.
“And you’ll have me. Right here.” He pressed his fingers deep inside her before slowly pulling them out.
His mouth traced lines over her buttocks, his tongue following the line, licking here and there. Then she heard the familiar crinkle of foil, felt more cool gel at her opening, and the pressure of something much larger than his fingers.
“Deep breath, darlin’.” His voice was strained. “And hold it.”
She did as he asked, bracing herself for the penetration. As she let the breath out, Mark’s cock pushed slowly, slowly inside her. Even though he’d stretched her with his fingers and made sure she was well lubricated, she still felt the fullness of him and a burning sensation. Then he was fully inside her, his balls slapping against the backs of her thighs, his hands gripping her hips.
“Ready, darlin’?” His voice was taut with the effort at control.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Now, Mark. Now.”
His movements were long and slow, his shaft pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting deep again. With each movement the ribbon of lust uncoiled more, wrapping itself around every part of her body. She felt the heat rising up from her pussy, the quaking of her pussy muscles pulling him even deeper inside her.
Her breath was trapped in her lungs, every part of her focused on the feelings rocketing through her. Velvet heat enfolded her, caressing her, tempting her, pulling her down and down into a vortex of erotic sensation.
In, out, in, out.
Soon she was rocking with him in a tempo and cadence that drove them up a long, slow climb to something dangling just out of reach.
One of Mark’s hands reached around her thigh to stroke her cunt, spreading the lube of her own juices over and around every inch of her pussy.
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed. “You’re definitely ready.”
Increasing both the intensity and the pace of his strokes, he drove into her again and again. Almost there, almost, almost. She closed her eyes and saw streaks of red and blue and gold behind her eyelids. Her entire body gathered itself, every pinpoint of pleasure so intense she couldn’t breathe. And then…and then…
There!
She reached the top and crashed over, dropping in free fall into a whirlpool of sensation. Her body clenched and jerked and spasmed, her hips thrusting back against Mark almost automatically.
Come, Mark. Come now.
And he did. Fingers digging into her hips, his body tightening, shouting her name in pure male triumph, before collapsing forward, his heart beating so hard it vibrated against her back. She crumpled onto the pillows, dragging air into her lungs, so completely spent she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to move again, feeling the fullness of him inside her. Wanting to keep it there forever, wanting…
Faith awoke with a start, trembling from the force of an imagined climax, now fueled by the adrenaline rush of fear. Wildly she looked around, her heart rate settling back when she realized she was in her own bedroom. And the urgency of her situation came rushing back.
Mark! I need you! Help!
But there was no answering voice from him tonight. Nothing but blackness.
She finally fell asleep with her cell phone in her hand, 9-1-1 already punched in, and a sharp carving knife on the nightstand next to her bed. But her night might have been even more anxious if she’d known about the black sedan that cruised by her house every hour or so, the faces of both the driver and the passenger set in grim determination.
Chapter Thirteen
“All right, smartass, what now?”
Mr. Brown stared through the windshield of the big Lincoln, eyes narrowed, as they made their first pass of the morning down Faith Wilding’s street.
“We’re lucky someone hasn’t reported us as peeping toms,” he pointed out.
“Shut up,” Green snapped. “Let me think.”
“At least we know she didn’t leave after she got home yesterday.”
“Big deal.” Green slid the car around the corner. “She’s got that woman staying with her.”
“So what?”
“So what, you ask? Are you dense?” His indigestion had returned with a vengeance. “We don’t want witnesses to whatever we end up doing. And we don’t want two bodies to dispose of.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t outsource this,” Brown grumbled. “This isn’t our normal line of work.”
“Tell me about it.” He chewed on the Tums. “I’d rather not try to get into the house. That’s not our usual line, either. We’ll watch for the right opportunity.”
Brown pulled a piece of gum from his pocket, unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth. “Like I said, if we don’t get arrested first.”
* * * * *
Avoiding the inconvenience of commercial flights, Rick had Ed take him in the chopper to where the two Phoenix Gulfstreams were hangared. One phone call to roust the pilots, half an hour when they got there to make final arrangements and by five a.m. they were wheels up.
> He was not a man given to fidgeting but he couldn’t keep his leg still as he sat strapped into the comfortable chair, or his fingers from drumming on the leather arm. He hadn’t bothered dragging the steward out of bed so he brewed coffee for himself and the pilots, dragging far more caffeine into his system than he needed.
He had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Whoever Faith Wilding turned out to be, she was apparently someone who’d stepped in a whole pile of shit. He just wished he knew whose pile it was. And where she fitted into the picture.
Was she somehow connected to Mark? He’d never heard him discuss any women in his life, with the exception of some idiot female he insisted on calling Tidbit. He could just imagine what she was like—a buck-toothed tomboy, barely five feet, lugging around a king-sized crush on her hero.
He didn’t like flying blind but he had to talk to her, whoever she was. Last night she’d sounded scared to death, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Something had spooked her and badly. And the tension riding his spine told him it was all part and parcel of this goatfuck.
At the private hangar where they landed, the black SUV he’d called ahead for was waiting. He shook hands with the man who’d delivered it, told the pilot to be on standby and tore out of the exit. He had an uncomfortable feeling that speed was definitely called for.
* * * * *
Faith was awake at five o’clock, too restless to sleep. She dressed hastily in slacks and a silk shirt, pulling her hair back into a clip at the nape of her neck but forewent makeup. She was too nervous to bother with it. Anyway, it wasn’t as if she was going on a date.
She made coffee, a rarity for her, then paced while she drank most of the pot, giving herself a caffeine high that she didn’t need. She tried reading through Tia’s notes again but her mind refused to settle down. She couldn’t seem to find enough to occupy herself. Time seemed to have weights on its feet, dragging so slowly it felt as if days had passed rather than minutes.
Tia finally dumped the dregs in the coffee pot and brewed some chai tea for both of them, forcing Faith to sit at the table and drink it.
“You’re driving me nuts,” she told her boss. “I think you’ve already worn a groove in the floor. What time do you think he’ll get here?”
“I don’t know. He said early. What’s early?”
“Well, it’s eight o’clock right now. To some people that’s early. To others it’s late.”
Faith shuffled the papers in front of her, pretending to study them again. “I just hope he gets here soon.”
Tia moved to the living room window, watching the street through the slatted blinds. “Do any of your neighbors own a black Lincoln?” she called out.
“A couple of them.” Faith came in from the kitchen where she was getting coffee ready to brew. “Why?”
“I swear this is the second time I’ve seen this one roll past the house.”
Faith shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ve got at least two neighbors who parade them around like icons of affluence. You probably saw both of them leave.”
“Maybe. I guess after last night everything’s making me nervous.”
Faith flipped the switch to the coffeemaker. “I’ll check it out. I’m going to get the newspaper.”
“Are you crazy?” Tia grabbed her arm. “People threaten your life and you go around like everything’s normal?”
Faith gave a nervous laugh. “Not exactly. But what’s going to happen to me on my own street? The paper’s just at the edge of the driveway.”
She shrugged off Tia’s hand, unlocked the front door and hurried down the pavement. A black town car sitting in front of the house four doors down, engine idling, registered peripherally in her vision. The Thompsons. Obviously. Harry Thompson was probably cursing as he waited impatiently for his wife, the habitually tardy Gail.
As she reached the end of the driveway the car began moving down the street. She shaded her eyes, waiting, planning to wave at them. And then it all happened before she could blink. The town car picked up speed and seemed to be heading right for her. At that exact moment a black SUV pulled up to the curb and a man leaped from it as it rocked from the fast stop. The car was scant feet away from her coming faster and she didn’t seem to be able to make her feet move.
Then strong arms wrapped around her and carried her to the lawn as the car whizzed by, so close it almost brushed her legs. Her face hit the turf and the breath was squeezed from her lungs by the heavy body on top of her. Seconds ticked by while she struggled to breathe, unable to make her body, her mouth or her brain work.
Finally the pressure was gone and big hands reached down to help her to her feet.
“What the hell are you doing out of the house?”
She looked up. And up. And up even more. Mark was well over six feet but this man topped even him. At the moment he wore an expression of mingled anger and disgust on his face. His blue eyes looked like twin torches.
“I-I was getting the newspaper.” She was shaking so badly she wasn’t sure she could stand upright.
“Get the hell into the house before they decide to come back.”
Gripping her arm with fingers like steel, he frog-marched her into the house and practically threw her inside, where Tia stood waiting in the hallway.
“Don’t move.” He jogged to the SUV and dragged the keys from the ignition.
Tia was standing with her arms around Faith when Rick strode back inside seconds later, slamming the door and locking it.
“Faith, my God.” She brushed Faith’s hair back from her forehead. “Did that car almost run over you?”
He glared at Faith, who was trying to gather some semblance of dignity. “Damn straight it did, thanks to your friend’s stupidity.”
Faith couldn’t stop shaking, nor could she get the image of the black car closer than a whisper of breath out of her mind. She had to fight the urge to race to the bathroom and throw up.
“She was just getting the newspaper, for heaven’s sake,” Tia snapped at him.
“After I told her last night to stay in the house with the doors locked.” He glared at Faith. “Did I not? Was I talking to myself?”
“Y-Yes.” Faith moved away from Tia, her hands gripped tightly together to still their trembling. “But I just—”
“Someone is obviously trying to kill you and you have to go out for the newspaper? You got a threat last night, didn’t you? It came up while you were talking to me.”
She nodded. Her brain wouldn’t come unstuck. She was shaking so badly she wasn’t sure if she could stand upright.
“How?” he demanded.
“Ph-Phone. And email.”
Tia moved closer to Faith and put an arm around her again. “Can’t you stop shouting at her? She’s obviously in shock.”
“She’s lucky she’s not dead.”
“I assume you’re the mysterious Eric Latrobe?” She looked up at the mountain of a man looming over them. “At least I hope that’s who you are.”
“So you don’t let just any stranger in the house?” His voice was edged with sarcasm. “Good for you.”
“O-Only men who save my life,” Faith told him. She was getting some control back, her pulse settling down to a manageable beat.
“Smart mouth too.” He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, working to get his temper under control. “All right, Miss Wilding. You’ve been trying your best to get hold of me so let’s cut out the crap here. What do you want and why does someone want to kill you? Besides claiming to be an author, just who the hell are you?”
She wet her lips and struggled to keep her voice even. “I’m Tidbit. And I’m trying to get help for Mark.”
Rick stared at her as if she’d just descended from Mars.
* * * * *
“Well, that was a huge success.” Brown banged his fist against the arm rest.
“Shut up.” Green wheeled the car around the corner and sped through the residential streets, nearly clipping a convertib
le backing out of a driveway. “A perfect opportunity and some asshole ruins it.”
“Who was that guy, anyway?”
“Who the hell knows? I don’t suppose you got a good look at him.”
Brown gave an unpleasant laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Damn, damn, damn.” He took out his cell phone. “We need to ditch this car. Give the rental agency some excuse and get something completely different. Then we need to check into a hotel.”
“No kidding.”
“But first we need someone to sit on the Wilding woman and make sure she doesn’t fall off our radar.” He punched in a number and when the person at the other end answered, barked out terse instructions. “Let’s hope he gets his ass here ASAP. We can’t afford another fuckup.”
They had reached the Frontage Road and took the closest on-ramp to the interstate.
“So what now?” Brown asked.
“What now? Did you ask what now?” he snorted. “So you think that maybe just once you could come up with an idea yourself, instead of waiting to see what I decide?”
“You jackass.” Brown’s voice was tight with anger. “Maybe that’s what I should be doing since none of yours seemed to have worked out so far.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Green was changing lanes, speeding ahead of cars, trying to get…where? Where did they go now?
“Only that we lost the Latrobe kid, we aren’t any closer to finding out who knows what and who might still be on our ass and now we not only didn’t take out the target, we served notice in a very big way that she’s in danger. And whose brain masterminded it all?”
“Just shut up,” Green said again. “We have to figure out what to do. And no, calling our boss is not an option. Yet. I want to have some options first.”
* * * * *
Rick stared at the woman in front of him. “You’re kidding, right?”
This slender female with the flashing green eyes and tawny hair was a far cry from what his overactive imagination had conjured up. If they got Mark Halloran back, he’d better hang onto this one before someone snatched her away from under his nose.