Enemy Mine (The Base Branch Series Book 1)

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Enemy Mine (The Base Branch Series Book 1) Page 14

by Megan Mitcham


  Sloan cradled his cheek in her palm. “We’re waltzing in the dark. There’s bound to be potholes and pitfalls we don’t see.”

  “But I have night vision goggles.”

  She giggled despite the ebbing tension in the room. “Not for this you don’t.”

  “Yep, totally out of my element with you.” He pulled her into his arms. “But I’m a quick study.”

  His strong fingers caressed her back, raising gooseflesh all over her skin, until those fingers dipped at the crease of her bottom. “Hold still. This won’t hurt a bit.”

  She bucked and wiggled in his arms. “As much as I’d love to get lost in the ways of your fine fingers, aren’t you forgetting something—like the key to our retribution?”

  “No,” he groaned against the crook of her neck. “I can multi-task.”

  “This is serious, Baine.”

  “So am I. I’m going to torture the information out of you.”

  Sloan’s rebuttal fell into the back of her throat on a long moan as Baine gathered her hot juices on his finger and spread it from her puckered bottom over her throbbing lips to her clit. Talk about zero-to-sixty in two-point-four seconds. She knew a car could do it. She just didn’t know she could, until now.

  Her nipples flushed brown to hued red and pebbled. The image combined with Baine’s hungry gaze on her and his fingers stroking deep inside her core caught her breath. She arched into his chest and her legs fell open, granting him unlimited access. He used it to circle her clit with a steady beat and perfect pressure. Literally, she couldn’t have done it better herself. She came panting against his neck and riding his hand through the last waves of pleasure.

  She collapsed back onto his arm. “See, I don’t talk. Not a word.”

  “No words, just fucking hot moans. Damn.” His head shook and he placed a chaste kiss on her lips, but she caught him before he could retreat.

  Sloan slipped her tongue into his mouth, swirling and taunting his. She planted a hand on his solid chest and pushed him down to the bed. He watched her crawl up his body as he lay back on the bed, arms outstretched. “I am a woman. And we can actually multi-task. It’s just too bad I can’t talk with my mouth full.”

  “Too damn bad,” he agreed.

  With no waiting or finesse, Sloan guided Baine’s already stiff cock to her wet core and impaled herself on the smooth instrument of pleasure. They both drew in sharply, thinning the oxygen inside the four walls. On an exhale, she relaxed and worked her hips in small undulating circles, bracing her hands on his torso for anchor.

  “I’m very observant, Englishman. I noticed the bulge grow in your swim trunks when I lotioned you by the pool. I recognized Lawrence as more than a butler on day one.” For that one, Baine jerked his hips, ramming the head of his penis deep into her belly. She moaned as again pressure built at her core.

  “Mmm. Don’t worry, he’s damn good. No one would notice the microscopic details, except me. And judging by the grip you have on my ass, I’d say you’re about to blow.”

  His laugh was hoarse. “You don’t need to be real perceptive to tell that, but I’m holding. Plan on taking you with me when I go.”

  Baine’s arms snaked up to her breasts and he flicked her nipples. Indignation had no time to form as the sharp pain turned immediately to molten desire.

  “Again,” she demanded.

  As his nail rasped the hypersensitive bead, Sloan’s entire body clenched. “Fuck.” She cupped her breasts and pounded her ass onto Baine’s dick. Her thighs screamed and her breath whooshed in and out of her lungs. The hard orgasm had her entire body throbbing. Heavy fingers bit into the skin of her butt as Baine followed. The muscles in his neck and chest tensed, forming a road map across his body. His hips slammed into her once more and his seed warmed her core.

  He dragged her down, soothing a hand over her back. Below her ear his heart thundered inside his chest. “I thought you could multi-task,” he said. One or two of the words panted from his throat.

  Only her lips moved on her reply. The rest of her lay slack, like an overcooked noodle. “You interrupted me.”

  “Can’t say that I’m sorry.”

  “Me either.”

  After three more fortifying breaths, Sloan propped her chin amid the light dusting of hair on his torso. “We’ve established I’m observant.”

  “Mmmmhumm.”

  “The codes we need are precious to Devereaux because they hold the means to his wealth and business. Most code producers are small. Small enough to keep with him at all times.” Baine raised his head from the bed and met her gaze. “Have you ever noticed the way he rubs his chest?”

  “Son of a bitch. I always hoped it was the warning signs of a heart attack. I never thought...”

  “Yeah, I’d bet my life he carries the codes around his neck. Someplace he could always touch, someplace no one would search.”

  “You are amazing.”

  Talk about a blow to the solar plexus. The reverence with which Baine gazed upon her knocked her hard.

  “I love you.” She said it before the words stuck in her throat.

  Baine’s mouth moved as though about to speak, but Sloan placed two fingers over his lips.

  “No. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me anything. I just want you to know, before all this goes down. I love you.” It came easier the second time. Warmed her. “When we were young I loved you as a friend. As hope. When I grew I fantasized about you, us. What would’ve happened, if we met again. You coming to rescue me from the loveless hell of my childhood. Stupid girl stuff I never shared with another soul, and hardly with myself.

  “I always wondered what’d become of you. Then when I was briefed on you before the D.C. mission I almost threw up.” He cradled her hands. “Then I saw you and unbidden, unwelcome even, my fantasies changed explicitly.

  “There are things you can’t say. More than your average person, I get that. And I have a pretty good idea of why you can’t talk.”

  He flashed that devastating smile. “Atta girl.”

  “And,” she continued, “I’ve never been more pleasantly surprised in my life. No matter what happens in the next few days, thank you for sharing yourself with me. It has meant more than you’ll ever know.”

  Baine sat them up and crushed her in an embrace, for a long minute. Then he levered back and framed her face in his hands.

  “Sia, Sloan, you are my love. You are every good thing in this world wrapped into one exquisite package. Everything I hope to be is for you. Because of you. As much as I saved you all those years ago, you saved me.

  “I kept track of you through the years, but never contacted you because I knew it wasn’t safe, even before I knew what my father did and especially after.” He rubbed the side of her head. “When you were sprawled on the floor in D.C. it took every ounce of strength I had to walk away, but I had things I needed to get done first. It put my gut in knots to crack your head. And I killed my father’s men because they wanted...” he sighed.

  “To kill me,” she supplied.

  “After,” he said, working his jaw.

  A memory darker than the pits of hell and the shipping container she’d been locked in knotted her gut. She knew first hand what Devereaux’s men did to women before they killed them. Her father got a bullet in the head trying to stop the five men who took turns raping her mother.

  Baine settled her head in the crook of his neck. Only then did she notice the tears soaking her cheek and his broad shoulder.

  “I love you, Sloan.”

  Her arms tightened around Baine. “Now how are we going to get this fucker?”

  26

  “As much as I hate putting you in danger, I know you can handle yourself. So, we armor up and go hot. Form a plan. Take the fucking castle. Rip the codes off my father’s neck and slap some nice bracelets on his wrists.” Baine’s hands bracketed her shoulders. All glimmer fled his eyes as he talked business. “I’ll order us room service for lunch. That wa
y we can all be on the same page.”

  “I finally get to meet your man?”

  “Oh, he’s definitely nobody’s man, more like a beast.” Baine chuckled “It tickles me to death to see him so placid. He’ll be thrilled with the turn of events. Since we arrived, I’ve had to threaten physical harm to his Harley to keep him from blowing the lid off this place.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Two years.”

  “My Lord.”

  “Yeah, it’s been an exercise in self control.” He leaned in, planting a kiss on her cheek. “But you’ve proven it didn’t help my restraint one bit.”

  Sloan smiled, but would be distracted no longer. They stood on the precipice of downing the biggest arms dealer and mass executioner since Hitler, and they had shit to do. “So, we know the who and the where, or at least we think we do. Now we need to determine the when and how.”

  “Let’s get dressed and get serious. I can only think of one thing with your caramel breasts staring at me. It’s a tactical invasion, but not the target you have in mind. It’ll take me five minutes to shower. Fifteen, if you come with me.”

  He stood and offered his hand, but she threw hers up to ward him off. “As much as I’d love to, I need clothes, a toothbrush, and a few minutes to think.” When his brow rose she added, “Not about this.” She swung a finger between the two of them. “About the logistics of our mission. The pitfalls and dangers we may overlook. It’s my thing. A few minutes of quiet, before the craziness of duty.”

  Baine nodded. “I get it.”

  He pulled her up and wrapped her in his big arms. Though she wasn’t slight or in need of comfort, she felt small and safe in the harbor of his embrace. And at the exact same time, immensely powerful.

  “Hurry back. We have a shit ton to figure out.”

  “I will,” she said, slipping back into her dress. Shoes in hand she walked to the door, oddly at peace.

  “Be careful. Try to avoid—"

  “I know and I will.”

  He stood and watched her go.

  Sloan daydreamed about his beautifully naked body, the last image before she’d closed the door, all the way to her room and through her shower, somehow managing to keep her hands from wandering into warmer, wetter territory. The moment she reached her closet all notions of romance and Baine’s body vanished.

  Snatching a cotton day dress off the hanger, Sloan slipped the powder pink fabric over the strapless bra and thong she’d grabbed from the dresser. She slipped on sandals while yanking her bag of tricks from the top cedar shelf. Just like it should, the white leather hard-case appeared empty. For good measure and to keep from having to come back before dinner, she cluttered the bag with cocktail attire and all the cursed make-up she’d need to play her part. After snatching underthings from the drawer she snapped the case shut, careful not to turn the combination on the locking mechanism, and headed for the door.

  Oddly enough, she didn’t need the run through she’d always demanded before going into hot zones. Quiet and calm didn’t call her. Baine did. She wanted him, not solitude. His calm reassurance. His apparent insight into the compound and Devereaux. His loving gaze.

  Bag in hand, Sloan strolled down the corridor. As she neared the main junction of hallways and staircases she heard the rhythmic slap of dress shoes coming from the front foyer. Her pace slowed to a near stand still, as she waited, and hoped the man she knew was coming from the pace and force of each impact would pass.

  Too bad she and luck weren’t on speaking terms at the moment.

  The steps grew louder, headed for the back door, she supposed. Glancing back, her bedroom may as well have been on the moon, because in the seconds she had to move undetected, it was unreachable. The door to her left belonged to Lana, the last lady she wanted to see right now. To the right? Jackpot. She leapt two giant strides on tiptoes to keep the low heels from striking the stone floor and eased the bathroom door shut as the footsteps pounded nearer.

  Not wanting to raise suspicions by getting caught in the bathroom with the lights off, Sloan smoothed her hand over the wall until she found the panel. One. Two. Three. She swallowed hard. Three switches. One, obviously a light. Two, noise makers of the vent and fan varieties. Damn it.

  With no time to screw around, she made a choice. Hoping these were wired like the ones in her bathroom, she flipped the left switch. Sloan closed her eyes against the blinding light and strained to track the footsteps through the thick door.

  They stopped what sounded like a few feet from the back door, nearly dead center to the connecting rear corridors. After a pause they passed the bathroom and quieted again in front of her room. She cracked the door open enough to see Kobi’s lightning fast B&E before he slipped into her room. In less than a minute he was out, and Sloan closed the door, listening as he retraced his steps.

  Until they came even with the bathroom.

  Sloan inhaled easily through her nose and let the breath go quietly through parted lips. Silence screamed on the other side of the carved oak for three long breaths. There hadn’t been a shuffle, squeak, or even a tap dance to perk her ears.

  Gooseflesh waved across her back.

  What was he up to? Did he know she was in here and why was he looking for her? Sloan ignored the lurch and shimmy in her stomach. No time to borrow trouble. Time to move.

  She straightened and studied the bathroom.

  Eight by ten room. Toilet. Column sink. Interior walls. No windows. Fine art. And one small linen closet.

  Thank heavens for oiled hinges. They glided like eagle’s wings over the plain as Sloan swung the small door wide, carefully stuffed her carry-on into the shallow depths, and closed the latch. The whisper of footsteps neared the door, but she didn’t squander a second by staring at the oak.

  Instead, she faced herself in the mirror, dabbed her middle finger against the nozzle of the liquid soap, pulled back her left eyelid and rubbed the detergent against her smooth cornea.

  Whoa. Desired affect achieved along with an unpleasant sting of pain. Sloan blinked wildly and tears cascaded over her cheek. She broke the silence barrier, turning the water on and cupping a few handfuls into her abused eye. After a blot she considered the bright red veins polluting the white of her sclera and smiled.

  Sloan squared her shoulders and reached for the knob.

  With arms crossed over his torso, Kobi glowered at her from the center of the corridor. He made no move to explain his presence, only stabbed her with his glare.

  Refusing to be trapped in the tiny confines of the restroom with the letch, Sloan closed the door behind her and took one decisive step toward the foyer.

  “Leaving so soon?” he asked. The words muffled through his clenched teeth.

  Sloan struggled for meekness in her expression, squinting her brows and quivering her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I thought you were waiting for the bathroom and was only getting out of your way.”

  “Nice try.” He laughed, but the sound turned into more of a snort. The huffing bull before its charge. “I think you were hiding from me.”

  She tilted her head to the side and pointed for emphasis. “Hiding? No, I had a lash in my eye.”

  His face drew in a sneer. “Did it hurt?”

  Oh, shit. She knew where this was going. Unoriginal asshole. And still she couldn’t stop it without giving something away more precious and deadly than her body. “Yes, a little,” she heard herself say.

  “Well, I’m going to make you hurt a lot.” His arms shot out as he lunged.

  Unable to move with her normal speed, she still managed to stumble into view of the grand entrance in hopes someone would happen along and dissuade Kobi’s attack. His grip clamped around her throat and she squealed, her eyes wide in feigned shock.

  “Shut up,” he growled. “Baine can’t save you this time.”

  He drove her into the wall. The smack of her head against the unmoving surface echoed in the entryway. She cried out
with what air remained in her lungs.

  “I said, ‘Shut up!’”

  Those damn crooked teeth hovered directly in her line of sight as Kobi bore most of his weight on her windpipe. Had she not been trained to tighten her neck muscles and remain calm in every situation, she'd have already passed out. As it was, only a tiny percentage of the air she needed seeped through her forced pants.

  Silver spots appeared like shooting stars above Kobi’s head. Sloan had to do something fast or pass out and be at the mercy of this sicko. She went basic, flailing her arms out wide as if in search of a weapon. A way out. Automatically his eyes followed her hands and she kneed his balls into his stomach.

  Kobi doubled over with a guttural moan.

  Honey-sweet air burned her lungs as she coughed and heaved. Still sputtering, Sloan ran for the front of the house.

  Before she rounded the staircase Kobi’s body slammed her to the ground. They slid a good five feet and Sloan’s head collided with the massive front door. Things tunnel-visioned while Kobi flipped her over and crawled up her body. The world refocused on his mean mug and thick arms as they straightened and strained. Both his hands cinched down on her already sore neck.

  “I’ve never been into necrophilia, but I’m willing to give it a try this ti—"

  A fancy shoe cut off his ugly tirade. It connected with a loud snap of bone and sent him careening.

  Relief washed over Sloan like a renewing waterfall. The throb of her brain and the sting in her lungs eased with the return of air and blood flow. Plus she had the satisfaction of watching Kobi land in a heap again. Not unconscious this time, but not on top of her either.

  When he levered up on his hands and knees, her rescuer bellowed, “Stay down, dog.”

  Well, the voice held no Brit. Her relief was doused in flames.

  Devereaux.

  27

  The man in Sloan’s every nightmare stepped over her, advancing on Kobi. “It seems pussy’s made you doubly stupid. So, let me make things simple for you.” Devereaux pulled a silver pistol from the small of his back. He cocked the weapon with a smooth hand and ground the muzzle into Kobi’s temple.

 

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