Hicks kicked open the front door and ran up the stairs, Whitney gathered close to his chest. No one crossed his path, thank God, because he wasn’t sure he could stop. He pounded it down the hall to his bedroom, shouldered his way through the door, kicked it shut behind him and then deposited her on the bed. Damn, she looked small and helpless, lying there surrounded by all of his covers. His pillows. He’d dreamed about having her in his bed, fantasized about it all night, but not like this. Hicks went to his knees on the mattress beside her and gently gathered her into his arms. He settled against the headboard and stretched his legs out in front of them.
More alarming than the fact that she hadn’t spoken was how cold she’d become. He began to rub his hands up and down her arms, forcing circulation back into her extremities. “Whitney, you have to talk to me. I know it was terrible and I’m so sorry you had to see that, but you can’t shut down. Not now.”
She blinked. His heart leaped in his chest—this was more of a reaction than she’d given him the entire drive home. He scrambled for something to say, something that would pull her out of this dangerous trance. He’d never seen her this quiet, and it scared the shit out of him. “I can’t believe you’re just going to give up like that,” he said, trying to snap her out of it. “Those assholes tried to kill you. I thought you were stronger than this.”
She blinked again, and even though his words tasted like sawdust, he kept poking and prodding. He’d rather have her pissed off at him than in a waking coma. “Was all that sassy talk a front? Was it just an act? Maybe it’s because you’ve got the hots for me. Some women react like that, you know? I mean, look at me. A body like this would drive any woman insane,” he babbled. Maybe the posturing and tough talk would work. It had to work.
Whitney trembled and then let out a choked sob. Hicks gathered her tight against his chest and lay his cheek on her head, closing his eyes in sweet heavenly relief. “That’s it, baby, get it out.”
“Hicks,” she dug her nails into his chest and let go, sobbing freely in his arms. Every heart-wrenching sound she let loose was another knife to his soul.
He’d killed more men than she could imagine, seen much worse carnage than the ugly scene in the garage today, and none of it had affected him the way her reaction did. Every smile, every comment, every look she’d ever given him had been so fierce. Seeing her broken nearly broke him in two.
Even if they parted ways after this, he’d never forget the way she felt in his arms right now.
But holding her wasn’t enough. He needed to make her better—he needed to see that sassy, sexy grin and the spark of fire in her eyes. The mere thought of her walking around dull and listless, hollowed out by the trauma of something she should have never witnessed, made him shudder.
“That’s it, baby, get it out. It’s a typical reaction.”
Her sobs subsided into soft sniffles and the occasional sigh. Her fingers had released their firm grip on this chest and were now curled in the soft material of his T-shirt. Damn, he liked how she held him. He never wanted her to let go.
“I’m sorry you saw the…”
She hiccupped and said, “I’ve never imagined anything like that. There was so much blood.”
He palmed her cheek and held her to his chest, unable to look her in the eyes just yet. He’d accepted those terrible things long ago, back when he’d decided to become an operative. Blood was nothing. Shooting an enemy was nothing. He never thought twice. But Whitney hadn’t signed up for this kind of thing. “I never meant for you to see that. If it were in my power, I’d erase that memory from your mind forever.”
Those types of images haunted almost everyone. Hicks had been blessed to be numb to those kinds of feelings, but he knew he was the exception. She’d have nightmares, and she’d picture it in her mind during the day when she was just sitting still, staring out the window.
“I was so scared. I was too afraid to move. I always thought I was stronger than that. That if some asshole attacked me, I’d come back at him full force, but I just sat there.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t know what was going on, but as soon as your brain registered it was a threat, you moved. Don’t you dare beat yourself up over that lie.” He’d seen the confusion on her face, followed by horrified comprehension. She’d reacted a second later, but it had been a second too late. “No human can outrun a vehicle. And those men were professionals. You weren’t meant to stand a chance.”
Thank God he’d been there. They’d obviously thought to catch her alone, distracted from being fired. Had he not been there, no one would have even witnessed their crime.
She shuddered, and he forced himself to loosen his grip and tilt her chin up. When he saw her sapphire blue eyes bright with tears, he came undone. He needed to make her feel better, offer her what comfort he could. He would do anything to erase the pain in her gaze. And then his attention dropped to her lips, all red and swollen. A surge of possessive desire crashed over him like it had been fueled by an exploding bomb. Heat flooded his body.
He didn’t understand it, but he needed to kiss her more than he needed to breathe.
13
She panted, trying to draw in enough oxygen to make her brain work again. She felt like she was surrounded by a warm fog, cocooned in Hicks’s strong and unyielding arms. He’d saved her life. She’d been scared out of her mind but not too scared to watch how fast he moved. Quicker than an average person. And he hadn’t hesitated before firing those bullets. And thank God he hadn’t.
She hadn’t been able to comprehend what she’d seen at first, and right now she didn’t want to think about it. That horrific scene still hovered at the periphery of her conscious mind, trying to pick its way in and take control, but she refused to let it. Hicks wouldn’t let that happen either. He was her safe harbor in the storm.
He held her so gently, cradling her against his chest despite his immeasurable strength. Just knowing he could crush her with a mere flex of his fingers was enough to make her swoon, but he held her like she was a glass doll. Even when his touch was fierce, it was gentle. Like he was always aware that he could cause her pain.
The way he was looking at her now, though, was enough to make her forget everything but him. She licked her lips, and his gaze was drawn down to them. She could feel his hardness pressed against her hips through their clothes and a wave of desire crashed into her.
Hicks lowered his head, as if caught up by the same intensity. He hesitated, his mouth inches from hers, tormenting her. “Whitney?”
He was asking permission now? When she was in his arms and in his bed? With a groan, Whitney threw her arm around his neck and crushed her mouth to his, needing him now more than she needed anything else. Even air.
His tongue swept between her lips and she opened for him, arching her back to bring her aching nipples in contact with his chest. But Hicks seemed determined to take it slow. He cupped her face so gently she wanted to cry. And that made her feel vulnerable, which was the last thing she needed right now. She needed her fierce warrior from the hallway earlier this morning—the one who’d taken control and dominated. When she tried to yank him closer, he held back, and her strength could not compare to his. Whitney ripped her mouth away and Hicks shot her a confused glance, but before he could speak, she slung her leg over his hips, straddling him. Then she yanked off her shirt, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
His hooded eyes locked on her breasts and Whitney reached around to unhook her bra.
His hands lifted to her chest almost reverently. He cupped her breasts. Molded them. Squeezed them. Longing flooded through her, so hot and fierce she moaned out loud. “Kiss me,” she said breathlessly, arching to offer him her body.
He gave a loud, satisfying groan and closed his lips over her nipple, drawing so hard it was almost painful. “Yes! Yes!”
Her fingers dug into his scalp, holding him to her. This is what she needed. Nothing gentle or timid. She needed him to take over and make he
r forget. He took her nipple between his teeth and nipped. She whimpered as warmth flooded her thighs.
The intensity of her reaction should shock her, but she just wanted more. Like an addict, she ground her hips against his cock, seeking to rub every inch of her body she could against his.
His entire body shook and his hands left her chest and anchored onto her hips, moving her back and forth, up and down. The barrier of their clothes was too much and Whitney yanked on his hair, trying to get him to lean back so she could rip off his shirt and pants.
Hicks reluctantly allowed her to have her way. She gripped the hem of his shirt and ripped it off over his head. With his dark hair hanging in disarray, he stared down at her, his eyes dark with desire.
Her fingers spanned across the wide expanse of his chest, and all of the ripped planes of muscle. This man was sheer strength, like granite chiseled by a master sculptor.
She bowed forward and lapped at his nipple, sweeping lazy circles around and around, savoring the way he tensed and jumped under her touch. The knowledge that he reacted to her as intensely as she did to him turned her on even more. This great giant of a man could kill at the snap of his fingers, but tonight he was completely and solely focused on her.
A surge of feminine power hit her so hard her womb clenched. Determined, she peppered kisses across his chest and lapped at his other nipple, seeking to drive him as wild as she felt. Hicks kept his hands at her hips, allowing her free movement. Emboldened, she worked her way down to his navel, amazed by every hard-cut ab her lips feathered over. When she reached his pants, she grabbed the material with her teeth and pulled open the button. Hicks sucked in a deep breath, his chest expanded and his hands wound into her hair.
Confident now, Whitney lazily pulled down his zipper and Hicks lifted up his hips so she could undress him entirely. When he lay nude beneath her, her mind ceased to work. She’d seen bare-chested men before, but none of them had looked like this. Men like this weren’t supposed to exist in real life. His cock was enormous and long and growing, stretching nearly to his belly button. His thighs were as rock hard as the rest of him, each part of his anatomy a testament to perfection. Her mouth watered.
Feeling as if she were in some sort of dream, she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, her fingers not even coming close to touching. She’d never been with a man this large before. The thought of how he would feel stretching her made her knees weak.
“Whitney,” he rasped out, his voice heavy with need. Need she had every intention of fulfilling.
Eager now, she dipped her head down to him, lifting him into her mouth. Knowing it would drive him insane, she traced the ridge of his tip with her tongue, her toes curling in pleasure as he all but jumped. Then she stretched her lips wide and took the entire tip into her mouth, flitting her tongue and tasting him. His fingers tensed reflexively as she lowered her head inch by mouth-stretching inch until he bottomed out and she could take him no deeper. She was barely halfway down his length.
He felt encased in steel, his veins popping against her tongue.
“Dear God,” Hicks rasped.
Eager to drive him beyond control, Whitney began to lift her head and then lower it, taking him into her mouth, exploring every inch of him.
His hips bucked, learning and following her rhythm. She’d never felt such pleasure in giving pleasure to someone else. Soon she was rocking with the motion, her hips moving up and down his thigh in eager anticipation.
A quick glance revealed his eyes were closed and his head thrown back. She was driving him wild and she loved every second.
Determined to finish, she picked up the pace, moving her hands in tandem with her mouth. Hicks allowed her to take the lead and she drove onward. But his fingers suddenly tangled in her hair and yanked her away, forcing her to stop. Before she could blink, he’d thrown her to her back on the mattress, ripped off her pants and shifted her legs apart, wiggling his hips between her spread thighs. She felt his wide cock press against her core. She arched, seeking the fulfillment she knew only he could bring. “Hicks!”
He growled and dropped to his elbows, caging her head between his forearms. And then he rocked his hips in slow motion, teasing her by pressing against her entrance and then drawing away. Tormenting her.
It was more than she could take. Whitney planted her heels on the bed and thrust up, taking him by surprise. His broad head pierced her entrance and she gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders for support.
Hicks’s eyes darkened until they were almost black, his mouth pressing into a harsh line. Beyond caring, she moved against him, attempting to take more, but he yanked out, leaving her empty. “Please,” she begged.
He dropped his forehead to hers and took her mouth with a kiss that left her breathless. When he lifted his head, she was lost in his gaze. Hicks was taking control and she was more than happy to let it happen. She drew her knees up and allowed them to fall wide and he took his cock in his hand and aligned the head with her entrance. She closed her eyes, waiting for fulfillment. And he didn’t disappoint.
Hicks drove forward in one hard thrust, bottoming out against her core, stretching her wider than she’d thought possible. She panted and tried to relax and accept him, but he was so big it was almost painful.
Hicks trailed butterfly kisses over her cheeks and her nose and her forehead. He sucked on her bottom lip, forcing her to respond. After a few minutes, she relaxed enough that there was nothing but pleasure when he began to move again. Pleasure so intense it stole her breath away. He began to rock in and out of her, his pace slow and measured, a man on a mission to batter down her defenses.
Whitney was beyond control now. She wrapped her feet around his waist and let him have his way, and when he grabbed her hips and began slamming into her hard and fast, she clung to him, holding on for dear life.
He kept up that pace until she was clawing his back, strung tighter than a bowstring. “Hicks, please.”
Hicks’s hard thrust ripped a cry from her throat before she could gather her wits. Her world exploded and her womb clenched in spasms so hard it left her thunderstruck.
Hicks thrust into her again and again, making her orgasm ride out longer and longer. Then she let out a little wail and closed her eyes. He pushed into her one last time, marking her. He had taken her power and dominated her…and she’d never been so satisfied or so complete.
Wrapping his arms around her, Hicks rolled onto his back, flipping her onto his chest and keeping their bodies locked together as one. She was barely aware when he finally withdrew from her core. She felt utterly and completely safe with her head cradled on his shoulder and his strong, protective arms locked around her waist.
For the first time in her life, Whitney felt like she was at home.
14
Hicks stared at the ceiling in shock. He’d never felt anything so intense, hadn’t even imagined it could be like that.
Mindlessly, he stroked her hair, unable to drift off to sleep and ignore the beautiful creature asleep in his arms. He’d imagined she’d be wild and unreserved, but nothing he’d imagined had come close to the reality of being with her. She’d robbed him of his control and driven him to the edge and right over it—into a pleasure beyond comprehension. Even now, his cock was still hard, eager to climb back inside her warm depths. But he knew she needed to sleep—her body and mind needed to heal from the assault. Hell, she’d almost been out when he’d rolled onto his back.
No matter how much he wanted to wake her up and start all over again, his team would be waiting in the war room. They’d left three bodies in that garage, and that wasn’t something he could ignore, however much he might like to.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and took a deep breath, inhaling her perfect spicy, sweet scent. Through sheer willpower alone, he carefully rolled her onto the mattress and pulled the covers over her beautiful, curvaceous body. Knowing his men would be able to smell her on him, he climbed into his walk-in shower and scrubbed
down before toweling off and yanking on a black T-shirt and pants.
Once dressed, he padded down to the secret entrance and made his way to the war room. A retinal scanner and a keypad extended from the wall. He pressed his eye to the small oval stick and entered his code. The sound of airtight locks releasing hissed in the empty hallway and the long white expanse in front of him slid open. One long wall of monitors covered the back of the room, floor to ceiling. They monitored every major national and international news station, plus NASA and the Pentagon’s private channels. Watched their satellites for movement and tracked known associates of General Rainier every second of every day.
Two rows of computers and tracking equipment were arranged opposite - but facing - the monitors, currently manned by Juarez and Diggs, their backs turned to him as their fingers flew over the keyboards.
Reaper and King stood in front of the bank of monitors, King the only one acknowledging he’d entered the room. “It’s about time.”
The faces of the three men he’d killed in the garage appeared on the screens. That was enough to shock his mind back to the present moment. Fury took the place of lust and he prowled forward, wishing he could kill the assholes all over again.
Hicks stopped by Juarez, who sat at a computer just to the right of the center aisle running up the rows of computers. Juarez glanced up, giving him a long look that clearly indicated he knew exactly what Hicks had been up to. Then he said, “Take a nap?” Hicks shot him a lethal glance and Juarez wisely ducked his head. Diggs, who sat at the computer to his left, wasn’t as smart. “Smells like he’s been doing more than napping.”
If he wasn’t so replete from having finally taken Whitney, he might’ve reacted to Diggs’s sarcastic remark. Instead, he said calmly, “Have you found anything yet?”
Diggs and Juarez turned all business. Juarez answered, “Brother, we’ve run their faces through every facial recognition software database on the planet. FBI. NSA. Interpol. Even the one the Pentagon doesn’t want anyone else to know about. These men don’t exist.”
Mayhem's Desire: Operation Mayhem Page 14