Dangerous Curves

by Kristina Wright

  She kissed him back after the first initial shock, her mouth open to his explorations, her body phant under his hands. His thumbs circled her nipples through her thin T-shirt and she moaned softly against his mouth. He cupped her breasts fully, savoring their weight in his palms. Needing more, he slid his hands under her shirt, enjoying the way she responded to his touch on her naked skin.

  “Jake,” she breathed against his lips. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his hands. Her nipples hardened into sweet, taut peaks and she moaned. “Jake.”

  Sam’s hands circled his waist, drawing him closer. She rubbed against him with a sinuous, fluid motion that left him rock hard and panting. He tugged at the waistband of her shorts, needing to touch her all over.

  When her shorts slipped down her legs, she froze against him. She looked up at him as if dazed by passion. “Here? Now?”

  He couldn’t answer, couldn’t form the words to say that here and now was all they might have. He could only nod. He could think of no better time than here and now.

  She stepped out of her shorts, her T-shirt still covering her to her hips. Reaching out, she pulled him to her, her hands working at the buttons on his shirt. She pushed the material back, planting warm, wet kisses on the skin she exposed.

  He let her control the action, content with burying his face in her hair and trailing kisses down her neck. She turned her attention to his belt buckle. A moment later Jake heard the release of his zipper, felt her stroke the hot length of him. He groaned against her neck, shaking with his need to bury himself inside her.

  He pushed her against the tree and she hooked her leg around his thigh. He pulled the hem of her shirt up to her waist, his hands molding over the lush curves of her body. The thin barrier of her panties was all that separated them. He stroked the damp cleft of her and was rewarded by her moan.

  Impatient to feel her against him, he tugged at the wispy material until it tore. The sound aroused him beyond reason.

  Sam palmed his arousal, driving him mad with her gentle touch. “You don’t have to save me, Jake,” she murmured against his chest, drawing him closer to the warm wetness at her core. “Just love me.”

  Sinking deep inside her, he did as she requested.

  It didn’t seem to matter that they were outside, in a public place. Sam didn’t care that at any moment they could be caught. All she could focus on was the sensation of Jake moving against her, inside her. All that mattered to her was this moment, this man. She would say with her body what she couldn’t say with words. She loved him. Heaven help her, but she loved him.

  “Sam, oh, Sam,” he groaned, moving deeper with every thrust.

  She angled her hips up to meet him, drowning in the exquisite agony of desire. His large hands pulled her bottom up, pushing him deeper, bringing them closer. She felt the waves ripple through her, pooling in the center of her being. Swept away by her release, she bit into his shoulder to keep from crying out.

  Jake gasped—whether from pain or passion, she didn’t know. A moment later, he rasped out her name as he exploded within her.

  In the aftermath of their lovemaking, he cradled her close. The hard, muscular planes of his chest were slick with moisture. She heard a rumbling coming from deep inside him and pulled back, startled. Looking up at him, she realized he was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Without letting her go, he tugged her T-shirt down to cover her. “This. Us,” he said. Hunting in the dark, he retrieved her shorts and handed them to her. “I think your panties were the only casualty.”

  Stepping into her shorts while he supported her, Sam gave him a wry grin. “You think that’s funny?”

  “No. What’s funny is that after all that we’ve been through, it would serve us right to get arrested for indecent exposure.”

  “It was your idea.”

  “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

  His bantering was a front. She knew it and so did he. “That wasn’t your way of saying goodbye, was it?” she asked softly.

  His hands stilled on his shirt buttons and he lifted his eyes to meet hers. He started to say something, then shook his head as if changing his mind. “What do you want, Sam?”

  “I want us to stick together, no matter what happens. We’ll see this thing through to the end. And then...” Her words trained off. She didn’t know what would happen then.

  “And then what?”

  “Let’s get through this first. all right?” Suddenly she didn’t want to think about the future. The thought of Jake walking away from her was too much to bear.

  He didn’t speak, and for that she was glad. She couldn’t handle another argument tonight. Jake hadn’t promised anything but she somehow knew he wouldn’t leave her—for now. The future was too uncertain to predict.

  Chapter 18

  Sam awoke the next morning to a big, sloppy kiss Startled, she looked up into soulful brown eyes. Fletcher.

  “Oh, gross!” She scooted up the sofa bed, away from the drooling canine.

  Jake came into the room, a towel draped around his hips. “What’s the matter?”

  “Your dog. He’s slobbering all over me,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “He likes you.”

  Sam started to argue the point but was distracted by the fine masculine form Jake presented. He was too good-looking for his own good. Or hers. The damp towel clung to him, leaving nothing to her imagination.

  It dawned on her that she’d never seen his body in the light. Last night they’d returned to Sherry’s house and undressed in the darkness. They’d reached for each other almost in desperation, making love again—quietly, urgently. Then he had curled around her and promptly fallen asleep. But even in her exhaustion, sleep had eluded her. She’d sat up for hours, reading her father’s letters and mourning the past.

  “Something wrong?”

  She blushed as he caught her staring. “Not a thing,” she answered honestly. Nope, there wasn’t anything wrong with him, she thought as she let her eyes trail down his body.

  Her gaze stopped when she reached the scar on his left leg. Puckered pink flesh stood out in harsh relief. She almost winced, but managed to control her reaction when she realized he was watching her.

  “It was a lot worse for Charlie,” he said, turning his back on her.

  Sam sighed and looked away, frustrated with him for being so stubborn, and angry at herself for loving him so much. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it had been there in the shadows, taunting her with the promise of something she wasn’t sure she could ever have.

  “Better get a move on,” Jake said, cocking his head to the side. “I think I hear Emily getting up. She’ll hog all the hot water.”

  Sam climbed out of bed, acutely aware of Jake’s nudity as he began dressing. She scooped up her clothes and scurried across the hall to the bathroom.

  By the time she’d showered and dressed, everyone was m the kitchen. She paused in the doorway for a moment, surveying the scene. Sherry stood at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee, with a no-nonsense expression on her face.

  “Come on, Mom. Let me stay home. Uncle Jake’s here,” Emily pleaded.

  “I said no.”

  Jake backed Sherry up. “She’s right, Em. I’ll be here when you get home from school.”

  “Promise?”

  Jake nodded solemnly. “Promise.”

  Emily grudgingly gave in “Oh, all right.” Gathering her backpack and the lunch bag from the counter, she headed for the door. ”Bye, Sam.”

  “Bye, Emily. Have fun at school.”

  The girl sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’ll try.”

  “She’s making up for lost time since her illness,” Sherry said as the door slammed.

  “She’s just acting her age,” Jake said mildly. “She’ll grow out of it.”

  “But will you?” Sherry asked, giving Sam a knowing look. “Breakfast is a free-for-all around here, so make y
ourself at home.”

  Sam helped herself to a cup of coffee and joined them at the table. “So what’s the plan?”

  Sherry glanced up at the wall clock. “I’ll give Joe a call in a few minutes. He likes to beat the traffic, so he should be in soon. And I need to leave for work in about an hour myself.” She smiled at Sam. “Sleep well?”

  Sam nodded. “As well as possible.” She was thankful that the drugs seemed to have finally worked their way out of her system. She had a feeling she was going to need nerves of steel before this day was over.

  Ten minutes later, Sherry hung up the phone after giving Joe an abridged version of their story. “Joe wants you to meet him at the office.”

  “How do we know it’s not a trap?” Jake asked, impatience in every gesture he made. He wasn’t a man used to inaction, Sam knew. And he didn’t like someone else making the decisions.

  “Trust me, Jake,” Sherry said gently. “I know Joe. He isn’t going to do anything except listen to you, if for no other reason than you are friends of mine.”

  Jake sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Thanks, Sher. I appreciate your help.”

  “Thank me when this is over.”

  Jake’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You bet I will.”

  Jake and Sam arrived at Joe’s office at nine-thirty. They’d dropped Sherry off at work and borrowed her car. Now they sat in one of the plush offices of the FBI, waiting for Joe.

  “I don’t like this,” Jake muttered, shifting in his chair.

  Sam tucked her hair behind her ear. She didn’t like it any more than Jake did, but Joe was their last hope. “Relax. Sherry said we can trust him.”

  “Sherry trusts me. She’s not the best judge of character.”

  “Well, I am and I trust you. Let’s give the guy a chance, first.”

  “Good idea,” a voice from the doorway said. “Long time no see, Jake.”

  He came into the room, shaking Sam’s hand. “I’m Joe Lafferty. Not to be confused with Joe Friday.” Even when he smiled he had the serious expression of a cop, Sam decided. But his easy demeanor made her feel comfortable.

  “Hi, Joe. Wish we could be meeting under better circumstances,” Jake said.

  Joe took a seat behind the desk. “Me, too. But let’s deal with what we’ve got.”

  “I know you’ve heard what’s going on with me. I’m accused of murder.”

  Joe nodded. “I’ve heard. Sherry seems to think you didn’t do it.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Sam was reminded of a similar conversation between Jake and her—only she’d been the one professing her innocence. “He was trying to help me.”

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “I hear you’re supposed to be dead.”

  Jake pulled the newspaper articles and the pictures of Montegna out of his shirt pocket and slid them across the desk. On top of the pile he put the two thugs’ wallets he’d confiscated in Key West.

  “You’ve been busy,” Joe said, flipping through the wallets. “I can run these names.”

  “Don’t bother. They’re Carlos Montegna’s boys.”

  “Montegna? What do you know about him?”

  Sam noticed that Joe didn’t seem surprised. “He’s alive,” she said. “And he’s after me because of those pictures.”

  Joe looked through the pictures and then up at Sam. “When were these taken?”

  “February twenty-sixth.”

  Joe nodded. “There have been rumors flying around the department—” He broke off. “It looks like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “What do you know about BOCTA?” Jake asked, adding Manning’s wallet to the pile.

  Joe sat back in his chair, eyeing them speculatively. “Bureau of Organized Crime and Terrorist Activities. The FBI and CIA, know about it. Secret Service knows. But it’s not public knowledge.”

  “What do they do?” Sam asked, feeling a cold chill dance across her skin.

  “Their interests are internal. They’re an independent entity, policing the government at all levels.”

  “No one is independent in the government,” Jake argued. “Everyone answers to someone.”

  Joe nodded in agreement. “Sure. But they only report to the highest office. BOCTA is supposed to be the answer to all the dirty politics going on.”

  “So what does the Bureau have to do with Montegna?” Sam asked.

  “My guess would be they cut him a deal. Montegna knew everything and he was supposedly singing like a canary. There are a lot of people who would want him dead.”

  “The Ortiz Cartel he belonged to was the third or fourth biggest drug cartel in Central America,” Jake said.

  “First in everything else,” Joe added. “Montegna was second in charge. He knows all the dirty secrets.”

  “And they don’t like being crossed,” Jake said. “But what good is his word?

  “It’s more than just his word, from what I’ve heard. Montegna knew the risks he was taking. He knew what the odds were if he got caught. He’s an American citizen. Once we nailed him we could lock him up and throw away the key.”

  “He must have something BOCTA wants very badly,” Jake said.

  Joe leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the pictures. “Apparently, Montegna kept records. Detailed records, audio and video.” He looked at Sam. “And pictures. Everything’s hushhush now, but from what I’ve heard, he’s got enough information to take down a lot of people.”

  “And I threatened to ruin that,” Sam said.

  “Sounds like it. Though, what the hell they were thinking, bringing him to the courthouse, I couldn’t begin to tell you.”

  Sam shook her head. “He was well protected and coming out the back. He wasn’t in plain sight for more than a minute. If I hadn’t had a telephoto lens, I wouldn’t have seen him.”

  “But you did. And BOCTA needed to keep you quiet.” Joe thumbed through his Rolodex.

  “It sounds like they’re above the law,” Jake said.

  “Well, they’re not.” Joe looked at Sam. “You need to call BOCTA. We’ll set up a meeting. If there’s something dirty going on, we’ll take them down.” He pushed the phone number and the phone to their side of the desk.

  “Who’s George Levy?” Sam asked, reading the phone number.

  “Assistant director of BOCTA. From what I understand, Montegna was his pigeon.”

  “I don’t like this,” Jake said.

  “I guess I’d better get it over with.” Sam reached for the phone.

  “Let me talk to him,” Jake said, his hand covering hers on the receiver.

  “I can handle this, Jake.” His hero tendencies were starting to get on her last ragged nerve.

  He must have sensed her aggravation because he pulled his hand away. “Sorry, old habit.”

  Sam nodded and focused on dialing the numbers but hesitated. “Won’t they be able to find us?”

  Joe shook his head. “All our calls are blocked. The FBI likes to keep secrets, too.”

  Sam resumed dialing. The phone rang several times before a pleasant female voice answered. “Name, please?”

  Confused, Sam asked, “What?”

  “Your name, please?” the woman asked patiently.

  “Samantha Martin.”

  “Contact?”

  She assumed the woman referred to the man she was calling. “George Levy.”

  There was silence on the other end for a moment. “Hold please.”

  The silence on the other end was interminable. Finally, a man picked up. “Who is this?”

  “Samantha Martin. Who is this?”

  Instead of answering her question, the man asked, “How did you get this number?”

  “A friend. I need to speak to George Levy.”

  “I’m George Levy. Where are you?”

  “Hold on a minute.” Sam glanced at Jake, knowing he couldn’t hear Levy’s side of the conversation. Cupping her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, she whispered, “He
wants to know where we are.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Tell him we’re in north Florida. That’s vague enough.”

  Before she could speak, Levy let out a gusty sigh. “Look, I have a pretty good idea where you are. We had a man at the airport in Key West. We need to meet.”

  “When?”

  There was silence on the other end for such a long time she thought he’d hung up. “This afternoon. Tell me where.”

  Sam put her hand over the mouthpiece again. “He wants to meet.”

  “Tell him to fly into the Tallahassee airport on the first available Trans Global flight,” Joe said. “Alone. We’ll meet him at the gate.”

  Sam relayed the message.

  “Do you have the pictures?”

  A chill crawled up Sam’s spine. “Yes.”

  “Bring them.”

  Before Sam could speak, Jake took the phone from her. “Leave the guns and the hired hands at home, Levy.”

  “Who is this?”

  “You’re the man with all the answers—you tell me,” Jake said.

  “Cavanaugh. You did a number on my man.”

  “Keep that in mind.”

  Sam reached for the phone, impatient with Jake and his he-man tactics. “How do we know you won’t kill us?”

  Levy’s voice dropped to a husky growl. “Lady, you don’t know what you’re involved in or who you’re dealing with. I’m your only link to freedom.”

  “Fine,” she said. “We’ll be there.”

  “Tell your boyfriend if he gets out of line, he’ll regret it.”

  The line went dead. Sam looked at Joe, feeling all the color drain out of her face. “We’re not really going to meet this guy, are we?”

  “It’ll be all right,” Joe assured them. “We won’t let you out of our sight.”

  “I wish you would, Joe,” Jake disagreed. “I’d like ten minutes alone with him.”

  Joe’s expression went cold. “You want him alive, Jake. He may be the only one who can clear your name. And to be honest, if we don’t get some answers soon, there won’t be anything I can do to protect you ”