Thunder cracked, and she worried about Nate. “I think you should at least invite him in until the storm passes.” Even though it was summer, weather could be extreme at this elevation.
“You going to nag me?”
“Convince you to change your mind, using my excellent powers of verbal persuasion.”
“Save your breath. Hawkeye doesn’t need to squander its resources on me.”
Hawkeye Security. The company they all worked for was named after the man who’d founded it, a man she, and most others, had never met. Wolf, she’d heard, was one of his closest advisors.
With their highly trained men and women, Hawkeye provided world-renowned protection. They recruited former Special Forces operators, ex-cops and bodyguards, lots of IT people, and other brainiacs, including some who worked remotely out of small, private offices. The higher the stakes, the likelier it was that Hawkeye would be the firm of choice.
Her teammates were the best in the world. She was proud to be one of them. “Hawkeye brought me in as well,” she reminded him. “Maybe he would go to these extraordinary lengths for any one of us, but maybe he wouldn’t. All I can say is he obviously considers you important.”
Stone struck a match, filling the room with the sharpness of sulfur. “My mind is made up.”
“But—”
“I told Hawkeye not to send anyone. I meant it.”
“You can have a heart, just until the weather clears. Then you can go back to your regularly scheduled…” She stopped short of saying assholeishness. “Grumpiness.”
His mouth was set, brooking no argument. “Let it be.”
Huge splatters of rain hit the floor-to-ceiling windowpanes.
Wolf might be able to sleep at night if he left his comrade out there, but she would toss and turn with worry.
Decision made, Kayla crossed to the hallway closet, pulled open the gigantic golden oak doors, and took out a raincoat. She also grabbed her gun and checked it before tucking it into her waistband. She snatched up a pair of compact binoculars and a compass and was shoving her arms in the sleeves of the yellow slicker as she walked through the great room on the way to the back door.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Exactly what you said. I’m saving my breath.” Kayla spared him a glance. “I decided not to argue with you.”
“Stop right there.”
He spoke softly, but his voice snapped with whiplash force. Despite herself, she froze. She’d faced untold danger, but this man, unarmed, unnerved her. A funny little knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
Kindling crackled as fire gnawed its edges.
“Turn around.” His voice was terrifying in its quietness. “Look at me, Fagan.”
Struggling not to show the way she was trembling, she turned.
He stood. “I will be very clear, Ms. Fagan. You are here at my pleasure.” He took a single step toward her. “I will not be disobeyed.”
His statement was loaded with threat.
Wildly she thought of the room in the basement, the one with crops and paddles hanging from the walls. The one she’d been forbidden to enter, and the door she’d opened the first time he’d left the house.
She locked her knees so she didn’t waver. “I’ve never been much for obedience.”
“Nathaniel Davidson is far from helpless.”
“He’s a fellow member of Hawkeye. I’m not allowed to leave him out there. And I won’t.” She met his gaze and ignored the fury blazing there. “Really, Mr. Stone, I don’t care if it gets me fired.” Or worse. She pivoted and walked away.
The wind whipped at the door, nearly snatching it from her hand.
She turned up the collar of her ineffective raincoat. There was never anything friendly about a Rocky Mountain storm.
She’d grown up in Tucson where torrential rains were common during the monsoon season. They cooled the weather to bearable seventy-degree temperatures, but this—it was freaking like winter.
Fortunately, she didn’t have far to trudge. From her conversations with headquarters, she had a pretty good idea of where the insertion was supposed to happen. And in less than fifteen minutes, the ground beneath her sizzling with electrical ferociousness, she saw a streak of orange.
She grinned.
Members of her team were smart. Nate had donned a reflective safety vest. That would, at least, stop friendly fire.
“Davidson!” When she got no response, she called out a second time.
He started toward her. “Come to rescue me, have you?” he shouted above the roar of the wind. “Bet Stone told you to come.”
“He sends his regards and invites you to sit next to the fire while he pours you a cognac.”
Nate laughed. “How much trouble are you in for coming after me?”
“He didn’t threaten to flay the skin from my hide.”
“Doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“Thanks. That’s a comforting thought.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Who I am? No.” She shook her head. “He thinks Hawkeye sent him a physical therapist.”
Nate grinned. “Do you know enough about that to do no harm, doc?”
“Uh… I watched a special on the internet.”
Thunder crashed.
“I ought to write both of you up.”
Wolf. Her breath threatened to choke her. How much had he overheard? It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d followed, that he’d effortlessly covered the same ground she had in far less time. The man was in shape, and he kept himself sharp, the same way he had when he led American troops in the Middle East.
Over the lash of the summer storm, his voice laden with command, he said, “Both of you, back to the house.”
The wind snatched a few strands of hair and whipped them against cheekbones that could have been sculptured from granite. His jaw was set in an uncompromising line. Out here, in the unforgiving elements, he appeared even more formidable than he had in the house.
Nate glanced at her. “Maybe I will get a cognac after all.”
“No fucking chance,” Stone fired back.
Cheerfully, as if he couldn’t have been happier, Nate whistled and gamely started down the mountainside. No one should be happy about this kind of reception.
“Move it, Fagan,” Stone instructed, leaning forward so he could issue his command directly into her ear.
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you say something?”
She blinked innocently.
His arched brow told her he hadn’t bought it.
Steps short but sure, she followed Nate, leaving Stone to bring up the rear.
Minutes later, the mean-looking sky unleashed a torrent. Earth became mud. Rocks became as slick as ice.
She lost her balance, and Stone was there, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her up and back, flush against the solidness of his body.
The sensation zinging through her was from him, not the streak of lightning. “I’m good. Fine.”
He held her for a couple of seconds, his warm breath fanning across her ear. What would happen if she leaned back for just a bit longer and allowed herself to be protected in his strong arms? To feel his cock against her? To surrender to the fantasies that kept her awake at night and her pussy damp, even now?
And what fantasies they were.
Last night’s sight of his semierect dick had driven her mad.
After he returned to his own room, she’d thought of the crops and paddles in his downstairs room. She’d pictured him using them on her while she gasped and strained, and ultimately surrendered to the inevitable. Turned on and needy, she’d pulled up her sleep shirt and parted her labia to find her clit already hardened.
She’d come with a quiet little mew and wanted nothing more than to scream the house down as his cock pounded her.
What was wrong with her? She couldn’t afford thoughts like this with any man, particularly one she was sent to protect. Because of the risk
inherent in working for Hawkeye Security, many employees were fueled by adrenaline, and affairs were common. But everyone knew the rules. No commitments. No emotions were allowed to get in the way of the job. But the way he held her was an invitation she wanted to accept. “You can let me go. It’s you who needs to be careful. Otherwise we’ll be spending the next week undoing the damage.”
“So speaks my physical therapist.”
Did he know who she was?
Before she had a chance to reply, he added, “I want you out of the storm.”
He released her, and the chill crept under her jacket. This time, being more careful, she followed Nate’s path.
The trip up had taken maybe about fifteen minutes. Down took half an hour. And by the time they reached the home’s patio with its outdoor kitchen and oversize hot tub, the sky was spitting out pieces of ice in the form of hail.
Very polite country, this.
Minding her manners, she took off her shoes and left them on a rubber mat, then hung the slicker on a peg.
Kayla told herself two lies. First, that she wasn’t stalling. Second, that her fingers were shaking because of the cold weather.
Stone unlocked the back door and indicated she should precede both men into the kitchen.
Nate followed her, and then Stone relocked the door behind them.
“You.” Stone pointed a finger at Nate. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Nate took a step back for self-preservation.
Both men dripped water and tracked mud. Neither seemed to care. And neither seemed to notice she was even there.
“Hawkeye didn’t assign you,” Stone surmised.
“No,” Nate said.
“Which means you volunteered.” The storm hadn’t remained outside. It had gathered force around Wolf and its heat threatened to consume them all.
Nate’s retreat was brought up short when he backed into the countertop. “So? What of it?”
“You knew I wouldn’t invite you here.”
Nate shrugged. “You don’t want anyone. Because you’re a fool.”
“A fool?”
“For always thinking you can do it alone. And you damn well know it.”
The men were a study in contrast. Fair to dark. Alpha to beta.
“Fuck your ego, Stone. There’s no place I’d rather be.” Nate’s tone was flat, as if that explained everything.
Kayla sucked in a breath when Wolf devoured the distance to pin Nate against the counter. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
“Wolf,” she said, licking her lower lip.
“You.” He shot Kayla a frightening glance. “I will deal with you directly.”
Her stomach plummeted to her toes. She was watching two magnificent warriors spar, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d be collateral damage.
Wolf returned his attention to Nate, capturing the man’s head between his palms and holding him prisoner.
What the hell…?
Wolf kissed Nate. Thoroughly. Punishingly. Brutally.
Her breath hissed out in stunned surprise.
Nate Davidson and Wolf Stone were gay?
Her world turned upside down and inside out. How could two virile, handsome, masculine men—men that she wanted to have sex with—possibly be gay?
Jumping out of her skin, Kayla placed her empty wineglass on the kitchen counter. She’d do anything to know what the two men were up to in the bedroom. But Stone, damn him, had shut the door behind him.
That hadn’t stopped her from listening, though. The masculine grunts and cries had whetted her appetite.
She considered herself a progressive type of person. In fact, some of her friends, female as well as male, were gay. But she hadn’t ever given much thought to what they actually did when the lights went out.
Until now.
The image of Stone with his cock up Nate’s ass made her pussy wet. But how the hell was she supposed to ask if she could watch them the next time they had sex?
She was considering a second glass of wine when Stone strode in.
He filled the space, stole her breath. She couldn’t believe it, but she wanted him, probably now more than ever, and that confused the hell out of her. How could she desire a man who’d just primitively taken another man?
“I’ll have one of those,” he said, indicating the uncorked bottle.
She nodded. Her hand shook a bit as she poured. “So…” Since the word sounded wobbly, she cleared her throat. “About what just happened…”
“Your face is the same color as the merlot,” he observed as she offered him the glass of wine.
“Yes, well…” She blushed often, much to her chagrin. Throughout her childhood, she’d been teased mercilessly. After handing off the stemware, she fanned her face.
The rain still beat a nasty staccato against the windowpanes, and the fire in the great room had turned to embers.
She backed up against the counter and spread her arms, gripping the edge as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Truthfully, her heart pounded so hard she wondered if it would explode. “I’m curious.”
He took an appreciative sip of the room-temperature merlot. “Go on.”
“Nate said neither of you are strictly homosexual.”
“We’re not.”
“As long as you can be the dominant one?”
He took a drink and regarded her over the rim. “Is this a clinical question, or a personal one?”
“I couldn’t help but hear—”
“Because you were eavesdropping,” he interrupted. “You’re blushing again.”
Aware of the message her body language was sending, she folded her arms protectively across her chest.
“You couldn’t help but hear…” Stone prompted.
“And I want to watch.”
“You’d rather watch two men get it on than participate?”
“Participate?” She blinked. “Like with the two of you?” Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe he didn’t mean anything of the sort. “Like a threesome?”
“Or some variation,” he said.
How the hell could there be a variation? She wasn’t exactly naive, but maybe he needed to draw her a picture.
More quietly, intimately, he went on. “Have you ever been dominated, Fagan? Sexually dominated?”
“No. But…I’ve seen your room in the basement.”
“The whips? The Saint Andrew’s cross?”
The eroticism in his words buzzed through her head.
“Have you ever been submissive? Knelt? Fetched a paddle? Served your Dom’s pleasure?”
“No.” She gulped.
“And you’re curious.”
Her mind exploded with images of being with him. She nodded.
“Just so I understand you explicitly, I want answers. Honest ones. Am I clear?”
The intensity in his eyes shot tension through her. “Yes, Wolf.”
“Good. A submissive is expected to participate, to draw the boundaries, to be unflinchingly candid about what he or she wants. That’s what I demand from anyone who submits to me.”
Was she going to do that? Submit to him? Put her trust in his hands? Tell him what she wanted? “I want to explore,” she confessed.
“Why?”
Unflinchingly candid. “I want to experience the vulnerability. The honesty.”
“Honesty?”
“I’m tired of running and hiding.”
“Tell me more.”
Kayla uncrossed her arms then dug her fingernails into her palms for courage. “I’ve always wanted more.” She paused. Silence stretched, as if it were a physical thing. “I mean sexually. It’s been okay, but… I don’t know. Lacking the connection I thought it would have.” Maybe it was her, the awful experiences she’d had with her husband. But now that Stone was demanding that she confront her needs, she was more aroused than she’d been in years…if ever.
“Have you pictured yourself spread open wide begging for my lash?”
He left h
er breathless.
“You are now, aren’t you, Fagan? Wondering? It will hurt. Despite that, maybe because of that, you want it. And the idea of being with two men intrigues you.”
“Yes.” The images made her tremble. “I want to be shattered. I want to be so complete, so satisfied that I’m not able to make a grocery list in my head after sex.”
“Grocery lists? You’ve been having sex with the wrong men,” Nate said.
She blinked. She hadn’t realized Nate was in the room.
He pushed away from the wall and walked toward them. “Is Kayla coming on to you, Stone?”
“Seems she wants to dance with danger.” Wolf raised his glass in her direction.
To continue your Hawkeye adventure, be sure to read Come to Me.
About the Author
Sierra Cartwright was born in England, and her early childhood was spent traipsing through castles and dreaming of happily-ever afters. She was raised in the Wild West and now lives in Galveston, Texas. She loves the beach and the artistic vibe of the island.
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Books By Sierra Cartwright
Titans:
Sexiest Billionaire
Billionaire’s Matchmaker
Billionaire’s Christmas
Determined Billionaire
Scandalous Billionaire
Titans Quarter:
His to Claim
His to Love
Hawkeye:
Come to Me
Trust in Me
Meant For Me
Standalone:
Hard Hand (Part of the Hawkeye world)
Bonds:
Crave
Claim
Donovan Dynasty:
Bind
Brand
Boss
Mastered:
With This Collar
His to Love (Titans Quarter Book 2) Page 24