Mayhem's Desire: Operation Mayhem

by Lindsay Cross

  She let out a long sigh and arched her back until she stood fully erect. She made her way across the distance separating them, her lips curled knowingly, and her scent hit him like a ton of bricks as she passed through the open doorway. The cat rushed in behind her and disappeared down the hall.

  He slammed the door too hard behind her and stomped toward the kitchen. For some reason, he felt like she’d betrayed him in some way. But when he thought back to the previous hours, he realized Whitney hadn’t acted out of character once—he’d simply spun her up in his mind as some innocent in need of rescue. Her beauty blindsided him, so he’d seen what he wanted to see. His assumption was no one’s fault but his own.

  “Keep up. You can get lost in here.” And that was one of the reasons they’d picked out this place—the compound. Its previous owner had apparently taken glee in making the mansion a maze of hallways that one could easily get lost in. It was a tactical advantage for his team if anyone tried to breach the compound. Plus, they’d set up their own sensors and booby traps along the hallways, all of which could be triggered remotely from the war room they’d set up inside.

  The compound itself was nearly impregnable, but the war room was a work of glory.

  Row upon row of high-definition flat screens lined every wall—enough to make NASA’s mouth water. It was the kind of technology someone could only afford with nearly limitless funding thanks to Caroline’s father’s genius investments. And they had taken full advantage—not out of want but out of need. General Rainier was still on the loose, and all their sources indicated he was hunting Hicks’s team.

  “I can handle myself, I’m a big girl,” she muttered behind him.

  He stiffened and stopped mid-stride. Just go, man, dump her on the team. You did your part. But he couldn’t. “Obviously.”

  He sensed her nearing and turned, unable to keep the disgust from his face. She was just like his mother. She used people for money. For power. No matter who got hurt along the way.

  Whitney pulled up just short of bumping into him, tottering on her impossibly tall heels for a second. An hour ago, he would have grabbed her to keep her upright. Now he crossed his arms and glared.

  “Obviously,” she mimicked, “You noticed I’m a fully-grown woman capable of making her own decisions.”

  “And lack of moral compass. You still haven’t told me why we couldn’t call the cops.”

  “You think so.”

  Hicks could barely control his rage. How could he have thought her pure? “I think you’re running your own little Ashley Madison ring.” More than likely, she was blackmailing her clients, and they’d gotten pissed.

  “Ha, if only. With the kind of cash she pulled in, I wouldn’t be in an apartment in D.C.”

  Why wouldn’t she give him a straight response? “So, you admit it.”

  “I tell you what, Hicks. Since you already know everything, I’ll let you figure it out.”

  He had to clench his teeth to keep from shouting. His reaction to her was too extreme all the way around. How could he even care what she was when she was so clearly selling herself?

  And how could his body burn with fire at her nearness when he tasted ashes in his mouth knowing what she was?

  Fuck, he wasn’t up for this. Hicks would find one of his teammates to dump this problem onto. He spun without a word, leaving her standing in the hallway, chest heaving over her too tight dress. But when he entered the kitchen, one room over from the garage, the expressions on his teammate’s faces told him they’d heard every word. Diggs was leaned over the massive marble island, eating chocolate chip ice cream straight out of the bucket. He lifted up his hands and said, “No way man.”

  Juarez, who was sighting a small crossbow, cast Hicks a single dark glance and said, “Don’t even think about it.”

  King leaned against the counter, half a foot taller than Hicks, an empty smile on his face. “Lost your touch with the ladies, huh?”

  Great, anyone who’d heard that exchange wouldn’t accept a problem mission like Whitney, no matter how much begging or bribing he did. “Where is Reaper?”

  King just shook his head, “In bed with Caroline. He’s not leaving her side right now. She had an adverse reaction to her injections this morning.”

  Shit. He didn’t need this. The only other man who wasn’t accounted for was Quantum, but he’d so far been able to drag his ass out of his hospital bed since they’d moved into the mansion. He’d reacted worse to the serum than the rest of them combined. The side effects dug into him anytime he started moving around. He’d either have a seizure or start talking gibberish.

  “Diggs, come on man. You’re better at this kind of stuff than I am. Haven’t you been itching to get out and do something?”

  Diggs took another major scoop of ice cream and rolled it around in his mouth before he answered. “I’m ready for action as much as the next man, but I ain’t dumb. You wanted her, you got her.”

  Frustrated, Hicks swiped the spoon and the bucket of ice cream out from under Diggs’s fingers and took a bite. “Yeah, I take what I want.”

  “Ah man, that ain’t right,” Diggs grumbled, his thick Cajun accent growing thicker with his irritation.

  Hicks took another bite, savoring the sweet chocolate chips. He needed something to wash the bitter taste out of his mouth after his last exchange with Whitney.

  King said, “So what’s her issue? We heard Dr. Averton’s sister was in some kind of trouble. You take care of it yet?”

  They all owed Dr. Averton their lives, and the tone of King’s voice showed how much he cared. His entire team would lay down their life for the doctor.

  Hicks finished chewing his last bite, keeping his massive muscular arms circled around the bucket of ice cream to protect it from Diggs, who was searching for an opening to steal his snack back. “Someone stole her car and broke into her apartment.”

  Juarez flicked his bowstring, the tightly pulled bow snapping with a slightly off-beat thump. He frowned as he reached up to adjust the tension. “So why don’t you just call the police?”

  That was the same question he’d asked her. Her every reaction had been that of someone hiding something. Of someone who was up to something tawdry or illegal. Normally, people who hid from the police weren’t doing it because they were following the letter of the law. But he had a hard time swallowing that pill with Whitney Averton. Maybe it was her curves, maybe it was that sinful mouth, or maybe he instinctively sensed she was beyond good in bed.

  “I don’t know, but she doesn’t want to involve them,” Hicks said carefully. He valued his teammates’ opinions and thoughts more than he could say, but something inside him didn’t want to see Whitney incriminated in their eyes.

  Juarez stopped flicking his bow and set it on the counter, giving Hicks his full attention. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit more about the situation?”

  “Haven’t found out much about the car, but her apartment was destroyed.”

  King joined the conversation. “What did they take?”

  “As far as we could tell, nothing.”

  King replied, “Which means they weren’t there to rob her.”

  “They were sending a message,” Diggs finished quietly.

  Sensing his team was still on his side, Hicks let out a tense breath and slid Diggs’s ice cream back across the island. “My first thought was a stalker. He ripped up her mattress and left a nasty message on her bathroom mirror. The entire place had been ransacked.” Except for the fetish gear.

  Was that something she used on her lover? A client?

  A silence fell over the entire room. Hicks looked up. Of course. Whitney stood in the doorway, her very presence enough to knock the wind right out of him, and from the stunned expressions on his teammate’s faces, he wasn’t the only one.

  9

  Whitney fumed silently, as she was forced to practically run after Hicks in her Manolo Blahniks. Each step was a jab to her heart. Number one, for having to listen
to Hicks’s accusatory tone and pretend like she didn’t care. And number two, she was ruining these $5000 shoes because he was trying to run away from her and she was chasing him, something she was absolutely not used to. And why did she care anyway? It wasn’t like they were in a relationship or that she had even met the man before tonight. Although he did have an ass to die for, and those shoulders… It made her wonder if he could squeeze through a door frame. His power had been unmistakable when he’d lifted her against the wall. She didn’t kid herself, she wasn’t a petite woman, and she’d never tried to be, but she’d never had a man hold her so easily.

  Her heart fluttered, but she quickly forced it back into submission. Having this kind of reaction to any man was dangerous—with Hicks, it could be devastating. She had no intention of allowing her first experiment in losing control of her emotions to be with someone who thought she was a high-class hooker.

  Besides, in a couple of months, she wouldn’t need any man for anything. She’d have enough money in the bank to start her own company—and she could buy a dildo to satisfy her other cravings.

  By the time she made it to the kitchen, she’d talked her temper down and eased back into a calm, serene state of detachment. Tonight had merely been a fluke, a result of her fear of having her apartment trashed and her car stolen. That was enough to tip anyone’s scales off balance.

  Back on solid footing within her own psyche, she almost stumbled when she breezed through the kitchen door. The closest comparison would be if a bunch of fireman calendar models had gathered in one room, only there wasn’t a single shirtless fireman on this planet who could compare to these men.

  She’d thought Hicks was big—damn, he was—but half of these men were larger. There was an aura of danger hovering unmistakably in the air. These were men who knew how to kill and defend the people under their protection, no mistake.

  Hicks, bless his poor little soul, didn’t give her enough time to fully appreciate the gathering of male gods before he rudely interrupted her silent fantasy.

  “Whitney, meet the team. Team, meet Whitney.” His tone was harsh and curt. He couldn’t make it more obvious that he was eager to be rid of her. Well, she was here now, and her sister had to be close by. Any man in the room could take her to Melissa.

  Sourpuss could stick his thumb in his mouth and pout in the corner.

  One of the men let out a low whistle, and her lips curled instinctively. This was something she could get used to.

  The smallest man in the room extended a hand. He was olive-skinned with short, curly, dark hair. But while he was smaller than the rest of the guys, the cords in his arms were blatantly visible beneath his T-shirt. “I’m Juarez. Don’t listen to this guy; he’s just not used to being around such a beautiful lady.”

  Knowing Hicks was watching her every move, Whitney tilted her head and dropped her voice an octave when she answered. “Obviously. I’m Whitney Averton, I believe you know my sister, Melissa.”

  “I’m Diggs.” A gorgeous dark-haired man—a playboy, judging from his rakish grin—took her hand. “If you’re Melissa’s sister, then you’ve got a whole team on your side. But I would be glad to handle your case solo.”

  A twinkle in his blue eyes was enough to draw real laughter from within her chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea or a horrible one.”

  The tallest guy in the room didn’t make any effort to reach for her hand. He nodded his dark head and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, an unreadable look on his face. “I’m King. Glad you’re home safe. Melissa filled us all in on the fact that you’re having some trouble. I’m going to assume Hicks took care of the problem?”

  She tilted her chin up to meet his inscrutable dark gaze. “Actually, he didn’t.”

  She didn’t bother elaborating any further. If Hicks wanted to embarrass her, she was going to embarrass him right back. And from the cutting stares the rest of the team cast his way, she’d succeeded. His spine stiffened more, a feat that she’d thought impossible. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  Diggs’s brows shot up. “You? You couldn’t wait to get rid—” he cleared his throat and changed course, “—you asked me to take over her case.”

  Whitney swore she saw Hicks’s hackles rise like he was a wild wolf ready to fight to the death over its last meal. “You misunderstood.” Oh, no one had misunderstood. Hicks had tried to dump her off on Diggs, and for some reason, which she couldn’t even try to fathom right now, he was changing his mind mid-stride.

  Had she been at all worried about Hicks’s feelings, she might have stepped in and spoken up, but a little bit of male testosterone had never hurt anyone. Figuring the quietest guy in the room was the safest bet, Whitney eased over next to King, keeping the island between them.

  “I don’t think he misunderstood. You clearly asked him to take over the case, bro.” Juarez picked up a complicated looking bow and started fiddling with the string. Thoroughly enjoying this, Whitney glanced at King to see how he’d reacted. Nothing. She’d swear the man hadn’t even blinked.

  “Stay out of this, Juarez. Dr. Averton asked me to help, so I’m handling her.” Hicks spoke quietly, his tone more than threatening. This was about to get very, very interesting. Hicks was at least twice Juarez’s size, but she sensed Juarez was fast.

  She hadn’t had two men fight over her since sophomore year of college. A lot of women were scared when guys got into a fight over them, but Whitney had a different take. Two males duking it out for one woman. Her. It might be one of the most flattering compliments a guy could give.

  Plus, men who didn’t care didn’t get angry or try to pick fights, which meant Hicks wasn’t completely cold to her.

  But Juarez and Diggs ruined it by grinning like little boys and throwing their hands up in surrender. Hicks turned to her, opened his mouth as if to say something—only he didn’t. He slammed it shut and stomped out of the room, leaving her completely dumbfounded. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He thinks you’re a criminal or a call girl, or both. Not to mention he saw the twisted shit you keep for the senator. That thought was enough to thoroughly squash her enjoyment of the situation.

  “Never seen him act like that before,” King said.

  She jumped.

  Diggs rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be fun.”

  Fun? Being stuck with a guy who hated her? No, that wasn’t her idea of a good time.

  She briefly considered asking one of the other men to help her instead of Hicks, but she didn’t know them. She didn’t really know Hicks either, but at least she knew she could get a reaction out of him. And that kind of reaction she could control. So, she’d have to put up with a little disgust—it was hardly the first time someone in her life had looked down on her.

  “Whitney?” Melissa appeared in the doorway, white lab coat over her pantsuit, her thick mahogany hair pulled back into a low ponytail and not an ounce of makeup on her face. She’d never been happier to see her sister in her entire life.

  They met halfway across the kitchen, wrapping their arms around each other. “I see you haven’t changed. Still, the nerd,” Whitney teased.

  “And you still have to be the center of attention,” Melissa teased right back. The words sounded harsh, but this had been their ongoing joke since youth, their secret way of poking fun at their parents. Or maybe it was just Melissa’s way of comforting Whitney after she got into trouble…again.

  She squeezed Melissa and let go, stepping back to give her a once over. “Let me guess, you’ve been in that outfit for two days.”

  Melissa pushed her glasses up her nose, grinning. “Oh, come on, you know I wouldn’t do that. That would make too much laundry. I’ve had this on for three.”

  “You’re the only woman who could pull that off and make it look good.” Unwilling to completely break contact with her sister, Whitney held onto Melissa’s hands. “I’ve missed you. You realize we haven’t seen each other in a year? Where have you b
een?”

  Something flickered in Melissa’s gaze, and she glanced away, her telltale sign that she was hiding something. It was then that Whitney remembered all the men standing around them in the room. She wouldn’t push her sister, not now anyway.

  “You know, secret government projects, blah, blah, blah. What happened to you tonight?”

  Juarez set his bow down and turned toward them. “Yeah, fill us in. We’d all like to help. Your sister keeps us under lockdown 24/7, and we’re going stir crazy.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need to stick to our controlled trials. One man at a time,” Melissa said uneasily.

  Curious now, Whitney prodded, “Why? Isn’t four men better than one?” But her sister didn’t take the bait. She did that thing Whitney had always hated—she assumed her scientist mask, all calm and collected. It was the one mask Whitney had never been able to figure out how to break.

  “It’s not possible,” Melissa said.

  “You’re never going to know what we’re capable of unless we work as a unit.” King straightened from the counter, one of the first movements he’d made since Whitney had come into the room. At his full height, he completely towered over everyone. The man was intimidating as hell, and Whitney found herself easing closer to her sister.

  Apparently, Melissa wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “It is a bad idea. We still haven’t figured out the triggers. I think keeping you in a controlled environment until we know everything is the smartest option.”

  King’s voice was quiet when he said, “But we’re never going to know everything until we get out into the real world, are we?” Everyone in the room watched the battle of wills quietly going on between the two.

  Her sister pursed her lips together before answering, “Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

  The tension in the room was thick enough to swim through, but Whitney still didn’t know anything more than before they’d begun this coded conversation. She should’ve known her sister wouldn’t give away her secret so easily.