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Justice for Gwen (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha): Guardian Elite series novella #2

Page 5

by Cooper, KaLyn


  “You never did tell me where you went to college.” It was a good place to start his interrogation. He’d use his research to catch any lies.

  “I got my BSN,” she clarified, “Bachelors of Science in Nursing, from University of Saint Mary in Kansas City.”

  Jonathan already knew that. She’d left out that she was in the top five in her class. “Is that where you grew up?”

  “Close. Leavenworth, a few miles outside the city.” She twisted in the seat. “My turn to ask a question.” She watched her hands as she refolded them in her lap. “I know you work for Guardian Security, but is there more to them than what it says on their website?”

  “I haven’t looked lately,” Jonathan confessed, “but we primarily do corporate remote surveillance, residential security, and personal protection. We’re quickly building a cyber-security team, though that’s out of our D.C. center. We don’t provide security guards, at all, but refer clients to companies we’ve deeply vetted. Our men have a specific skill set that is considerably above local law enforcement.”

  Her gaze held his as she noted, “Some security businesses are fronts for private military companies, like Blackwater, before they got bought out. Especially corporations that employ a lot of special operations types, like it seems Guardian does.”

  Oh, shit! Jonathan had to tread lightly here. He’d been with Alex, and several other Guardian employees, a few months ago on a mission in Iraq. It sure seemed like a military op, but he was there as a Guardian employee. His debrief focused more on maintaining the secrecy of the five women than on the overall mission.

  If Gwen was part of a homegrown terrorist cell, what if he told her that Guardian did, at least once, operate in a military-style capacity outside the USA? Would it shut her down completely? Would this date be over? He’d been there and voted yes to Guardian men helping to save Nita from an Islamic State leader. And he’d do it all over again if Alex asked.

  “We don’t have any government contracts as far as I know if that’s what you’re asking.” That was the truth. “We do personal protection, but I’ve never been part of any detail protecting anyone from the government. We do a lot of CEO-types.” Then he remembered one incidence. “I did work security at a presidential candidate’s rally in Miami last year.” He shrugged as casually as he could. “Maybe they do more of that out the D.C. office. I’ve only worked in Miami and now here.”

  “I see.” Disappointment crossed her face.

  Dodged that bullet. Then Jonathan worried that he’d let her down somehow. “Is there a problem with your security system at the diner or your apartment?” His mind shot in another direction and anger rose. “Has someone been hassling you? I can talk to the fucker for you, and make him leave you alone.”

  She laid a hand on his chest and reassured him. “No. No one is bothering me or harassing me.” She smiled. “But it was sweet of you to jump to my rescue.”

  “I’m a lot of things, but sweet isn’t one of them.” He cupped her face and gave her an opening. “You can tell me anything. I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.”

  She seemed to contemplate that for a long minute. “Thank you, Jonathan,” then rolled her face to kiss his palm. Heat pumped through his body with the next heartbeat, shoving blood into his already semi erection.

  The vehicle made a sharp turn and Gwen fell into his arms as they pulled in front of the popular five-star restaurant.

  She gently sat upright in the supple leather seat. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

  Jonathan didn’t push for information during the wonderful meal. He kept the conversation light with stories of outlandish requests from people in Miami he’d been a bodyguard for and what he classified as dumb crooks. The meal seemed over too quickly.

  He gave Gwen a hand up into the limo and was confronted with her heart-shaped ass as she ducked down for the door. It was perfect. He thought about taking her from behind and wondered if she liked it that way. He certainly did.

  When he settled in beside her and shut the door, he took her hand.

  “I had a wonderful time tonight.” Gwen’s smile was genuine.

  “The night isn’t over…unless you want it to be.” Jonathan saw the hesitation in her gaze, then added, “I have something I want to show you.” He hoped his smile was enough encouragement.

  “Show me?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. I saw it while on a call last week. You’re going to be amazed.” Then he added, “Trust me?” The question was meant on so many levels.

  She nodded. “Where are we going?”

  He looked out the windows to get his bearings. He was still learning the city. “It’s only a few more blocks.”

  The driver pulled in front of one of the biggest banks in Texas. “Come on.” Jonathan took her hand and opened the door.

  “I’ll just wait for you here if you need to use an ATM.” Gwen tried to pull her had away.

  He chuckled. “No, sweetheart, this is where it is…what I promised to show you.”

  She peered out the door and looked across the wide paved entrance at a twisted metal sculpture that shot water from all directions. She smiled and stepped down. As they walked toward the front doors, she slowed at the fountain. “I’ve never been one for modern art, but this is really cool.”

  “Yes, it is.” He placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her on. They needed to move inside. The guard was waiting for them at the door. “Come on.”

  She looked up at him in surprise.

  “The fountain is interesting, but what I have to show you is fabulous.” He turned her toward the front doors.

  “But they’re closed,” she insisted.

  “Not to worry,” he said as they approached the door.

  “Good evening, Mr. O’Neil,” the guard greeted, although Jonathan was sure he’d never met the man. “Mr. Robertson has left you a gift.” He circled the security desk and set a silver bucket with a bottle of chilling champagne, two crystal flutes, and a tray of strawberries, chocolate dip, and cheese on the high countertop.

  Jonathan was stunned. He’d enjoyed Mr. Robertson’s company last week—after spending hours with the gentleman as his building was cleared and it was determined there was no break in—but he never expected anything like this when he’d called earlier today to ask permission.

  One glance at Gwen confirmed he’d better explain. Not here, though. “If you’ll grab the tray, I’ll get everything else.”

  Fighting a grin, the guard led them to the express elevators and unlocked the doors. He stepped in, inserted a key into the panel and hit the top button. “Just drop the key off on your way out.” Then he stepped out, leaving Jonathan and Gwen alone in the dark wood, executive elevator. The doors closed and they instantly started to ascend.

  “I met Mr. Robertson last week when we received an internal alarm at our Operations Center. For such a high profile client, I was required to check it out personally.” She didn’t need to know they’d brought in the Guardian version of a SWAT team and cleared each and every floor.

  “Does that happen often?”

  “That I have to go out on a call? No.” The elevator slowed and the doors opened. He led the way down the hall and around to the end where he unlocked a door. He went up the stairs first so he could unlock the door at the top.

  Jonathan stepped out onto the roof of the bank building and couldn’t stop himself as he breathed in the city from hundreds of feet in the air. He missed the moist breeze from the ocean that cooled Miami every night. Dallas was his new home, and he’d find nuances to cherish about it as well.

  Gwen gasped and he spun around. Her eyes were wide, jaw slightly dropped in amazement as she took in the outstanding view. This is what he’d wanted. She deserved something very special, that only a few people ever got to experience.

  Satisfied he’d made an excellent choice, Jonathan took the bucket and glasses over to a rusty cocktail table set between two beach chairs. Inwardly he smiled. Gwen had followed hi
m, but her gaze was on the brightly lit skyline, not him. He took the tray from her hands without protest and set it down, filling the small table. “This is Mr. Robertson’s private place. During construction, he’d bring his wife up to each floor as it was finished. She loved the city lights. They’d have a drink, and talk about everything, except his work.”

  Jonathan lowered his tall body onto the old, webbed chair and poured the bubbly.

  Gwen followed his lead and sat on the edge of the other lounger, facing him. As she took the offered flute, she asked, “Do they still come up here?”

  He shook his head. “No. She was diagnosed with cancer and passed away right after they topped out. He still comes up here now and then.”

  Gwen looked at the battered outdoor furniture. “He must have really loved her.”

  “Yes. I believe he did.” Jonathan didn’t tell her about the tears he’d seen in the older man’s eyes when spoke of his wife. “They’d been married forty years. He showed me pictures of their three children and eight grandkids.”

  He took a deep drink of the effervescent wine, preferring the good scotch he’d shared with Mr. Robertson while they’d sat in these very chairs watching the sun rise over the city.

  “Do you want kids?” Gwen’s question struck him like a punch to the heart. That would require a wife, at least in his opinion, because he wouldn’t want kids any other way. He’d come from a solid family, unlike so many of his West Palm Beach friends who had multiple steps on both sides. His parents were pushing their thirty-fifth anniversary. His father ran a mid-sized construction company specializing in marine engineering and his mother had worked for an accounting firm all his life. Maybe that was why he’d struck such a chord with Mr. Robertson. He’d love to give his parents a few more grands to fuss over, although his older sister and younger brother had supplied three already.

  “Yeah, someday.” He wondered if they could practice in a few hours, but said nothing.

  She leaned back and pulled her legs onto the lounge. “I want three, maybe four, but at my age, I’ll be lucky if I get one.”

  “You’re plenty young enough to have all four.” He couldn’t stop the next question, “Why aren’t you married with four little ones already?”

  She didn’t even look his way as she answered casually. “I’ve been engaged twice. It just didn’t work out.”

  How could two men be so stupid to let this wonderful woman slip through their hands? “Were they idiots?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I was.” She rolled on her side to look at him now. “Gregory and I met while we were college. He was pre-med and so we had a few classes together. We dated for two years, and I was in love. We’d talked about working for Doctors Without Borders, traveling together, helping children all over the world. Graduation week he asked me to marry him…the night before I met his parents. His father announced at supper that he was retiring as soon as Gregory graduated from med school and came home to take over the practice. I overheard his father and mother discussing me later that night. He said,” Gwen lowered her voice an octave, “‘She’ll do, but you’ll have to work with her on her social skills.’” She returned her voice to normal and blasted, “I have manners. And use them.” She went on, “Then his mother berated my sorority and outright said she wished I had belonged to social sorority rather than an academic one.”

  “Tell me Gregory had the tenacity to stand up and defend you.” Somehow, Jonathan knew the other man hadn’t.

  “No. By the time we moved out of the dorms a few days later, he wanted me to follow him to med school. He expected me to work, supporting him through school, then we’d move back to his hometown and he’d do just as his father expected. He didn’t give one damn about my dreams of traveling and helping kids.”

  Jonathan thought he knew the answer, but asked anyway, “Is that when you joined the Army?”

  “Yeah.” She downed the last of her champagne, selected a strawberry, and dipped it into the chocolate.

  “And the second loser?” Jonathan refilled her glass.

  “A Blackhawk pilot who flew out of—” She skipped a beat, and then said, “the base I was stationed at in Afghanistan. Henry was handsome as a movie star and sweet as Chocolate Silk Pie.” She sipped, then bit the end off the chocolate covered strawberry. “I was a fool to think he loved me. The second week together he asked me to marry him, claiming that he could be killed at any time and wanted to have someone to come back to after every mission and make the most of life in between. Gave me a ring and everything.” She shook her head and fell silent.

  “Did he crash?” Jonathan finally asked.

  “No, but his buddy did.” She raised her pointy little chin and took a deep breath. “I patched him up, and before we shipped him off to Germany, the guy told me Henry was married and had a two-year-old back home.”

  “Fucker.” The word came out before Jonathan could stop it. He couldn’t think about that deceiving bastard while lying down, so he sat up and moved to the side of his lounge to face her. “Please tell me—”

  She cut him off. “He never fucked me again, but I fucked him over, big time. His wife was easy enough to find.” She swung those long shapely legs over the side and faced him. Pasting on a big, fake smile, she splayed her fingers as though posing. “I sent her a picture of him and me, naked in a hot tub, celebrating our engagement in Dubai.”

  She’d been lied to and deceived by men she’d trusted. And he was going to do it to her, again. He had to.

  Jonathan reached over and took her face in both his hands. He gently laid his lips on hers. She wasn’t timid, as he’d expected, after being burned by so many men. Here was the feisty woman who had grabbed a gun away from another woman as easily as she’d cleared a table. She kissed with a determination he’d never experienced before. Without encouragement, she opened for him. After exploring her mouth, she chased his tongue when he retreated and allowed her access. It had to be the most erotic kiss of his life when he thrust back into hers, slowly running his tongue over hers, like two naked bodies seeking their unique rhythm, they went back and forth.

  His cock pushed against the zipper on his dress slacks. He caressed her breast and swiped his thumb over her peaked nipple.

  When she moaned into his mouth he needed more. But not here. This was not the place for their first time.

  Chapter 7

  As they headed down the street toward her apartment, Gwen didn’t want the night to end. She also didn’t want the kissing to stop. Jonathan could do wonders with his mouth. After they’d returned to the limo—and oh my God, he’d picked her up in a limousine, Texas style, of course, because where else would anyone want a stretch Hummer—they’d continued to kiss. She wasn’t sure if it was one continuous kiss or several dozen, one right after another.

  She hadn’t been on a date like this…ever. Jonathan had been such a gentleman, and she really liked him. She could invite him up and she knew they’d end up in her bed. Would that be a bad thing? Did the fact that she wanted this hunk of a man warming her sheets, and her body even more than he had already, make her a slut? Technically it was their first date, but they’d known each other weeks. Kind of. What the hell. She was over thirty, certainly not a virgin, and knew what she wanted…multiple orgasms. Then she mentally added, from a man. She’d be happy to get even one. It had been too long since a man had made her wet, touched her clit, stroked her un—

  “Let me walk you to your door.” Jonathan’s words were a whisper in the silence of the cavernous back of the vehicle.

  Gwen suddenly realized they’d stopped. Decision time.

  “No.” She could do this. She could ask for what she really wanted. Bravely, she reached down and stroked him through the gray slacks. He’d been hard since the rooftop, but she’d ignored it, unsure what she really wanted. Feeling the length of his hard cock in her hand, she was positive of her next step. “Walk me to my bedroom.”

  In answer, he crashed his mouth to hers, pulling her body a
gainst his.

  Oh, yes, he wanted her. Thank goodness, because she if he’d said no, or made some lame excuse, she wasn’t sure if even her Big Bob vibrator would be enough to finish her off, tonight, the way she wanted.

  Jonathan pulled back and stared into her eyes. “Are you sure?” He sucked in a stuttering breath. “Because I want you so much, but I don’t want to push you into something you aren’t—”

  She shoved him toward the door. He was so big, and solid, he barely moved. “Unless you want me to strip off my clothes,” she purposefully looked at his crotch, “and yours, so we can do this right here, you’d better open the door and follow me upstairs.” She glanced around the spacious limousine, noting its deep leather seats lining the sides were plenty wide enough for a person to lie down, the blackout window separating them from the driver, before she returned her gaze to him. “On the other hand, I’ve never done it in a limousine.”

  Six hours ago she’d never been inside a limo, but he didn’t need to know that. What he did need to know was that she wanted him. She leaned toward him, their eyes locked, her lips an inch from his. “Here or there?” She tilted her head slightly toward the building.

  “If I kiss you, I’ll take you right here.” He leaned back. “You deserve so much better than a quickie in the back of a limo. Your bed, this first time.” He reached for the door handle and practically leaped out. Grabbing her hips, he slid her down the length of his body, not letting go when her feet finally touched the sidewalk. “I’ll give you the limousine fantasy another time. Right now, I need to see you naked and wet for me.”

  So he thought there would be another time. She’d be the one to make that decision after they made it through the next few hours. And wet. Oh, yes. She was soaked and couldn’t wait to feel him move into her.

  Jonathan held her close, their heated bodies aligned. He lifted her chin until their eyes met. “I want this more than you can believe, Gwen.”

  She understood the unasked question. Rocking her hips into his, she admitted, “Me, too.”

 

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