Nowhere Safe

by Dianna Love

  He claimed lunch had only been business and he couldn’t talk about his nighttime appointment.

  It wasn’t as if she couldn’t accept that, because her own brother couldn’t discuss his covert pilot work with the DEA. But Zane didn’t avoid talking about the rest of his life the way Josh did.

  Zane now shared his life with a woman he loved.

  There was the difference.

  Josh had no intention of getting that involved, and he’d played her–he’d used her for his investigation. But Trish had already made the colossal mistake of falling for him.

  A whisper of footsteps approached from behind her in the dark room. She glanced over her shoulder and recognized Josh’s blonde hair and broad shoulders, and turned back around. She could tell by the way he moved against her kimono that he only wore a shirt and shorts. His arms came around her and she battled mentally over what to do.

  Push him away or pull him closer?

  She wanted a man who trusted her enough to tell her the truth. Josh hadn’t trusted her enough to ask her straight out about Colbert.

  He nuzzled her neck and kissed a path up to her ear then leaned around to kiss her cheek. He paused, his voice coming out in a low rumble. “Still mad at me for some unknown reason?”

  Was she still angry with him?

  After all he’d done to protect her, she owed him some honesty. “I’m not angry–”

  His sound of disbelief forced her to correct her statement.

  “I was angry,” she corrected and was rewarded with another hot snuggle against her neck. Her skin came alive, waiting for him to touch her.

  But she had to have answers first. “Now I’m just confused and need to know something.”

  His thumbs that had been moving in a soothing stroke over her hands became very still. “What?”

  “Were you sent here by the FBI to find out more about Colbert?”

  He took a moment before asking, “What makes you think that?”

  “Answering me with a question is a diversion tactic. If you aren’t going to tell me the truth, then just say so.”

  Josh dropped his chin onto her shoulder. She could feel his slow inhale and exhale against her back as he considered his next words. “I am doing some additional research regarding Colbert.”

  She hadn’t expected him to admit that and felt a flutter of happiness at his honesty. She wanted more. “What about me? Am I part of that research?”

  “Trish–”

  “Truth.”

  His chin lifted off her shoulder and he kissed the top of her head. “You were.”

  She’d asked for honesty and had gotten it. “Oh.”

  “Don’t read the wrong things from that. I’m not here in that capacity right now.”

  “So you didn’t, uhm, the other day on the sofa, that wasn’t...”

  “You think I was seducing you for information?”

  She was actually glad to hear the indignation and shock in his voice. “Yes.”

  “No.” His thumbs started grazing back and forth again then he added, “The only research going on that day was how long it would take you to climax.”

  Her heart twirled around at that.

  His hands lifted to cup her breasts and use those same thumbs to stroke her taut nipples.

  “Are you researching again?”

  His hands stilled and his forehead came down to rest on her head. “I’m trying to keep my hands off you, but giving up oxygen would be easier.”

  Her resistance cracked at that. To have Josh desire her as much as she did him destroyed the last of her hesitation.

  She whispered, “What if I asked you to...keep going?”

  He moved his cheek back and forth over her hair. “I want to more than you can ever know, but I’m not staying in Miami.”

  He was telling her the truth. That he would be gone. She should accept that and walk away, but she wanted this with Josh. Wanted to feel him and be with him for whatever time she could have. She was already in over her head. Spending the night in his arms wouldn’t change that. She would take what he’d give until he left without asking for more.

  She waited until she could speak without giving away her heart in her words. “I know you’re leaving soon, but you’re here tonight and I want you.”

  His lips came down on her neck and she leaned her head aside to give him better access.

  He walked backwards until he sat on the bed where he lifted her into his lap. “Josh, we can–”

  “Shh. Stop thinking for now and relax.”

  Was he crazy? His fingers were touching her everywhere, had her wound tighter than a banjo string. No longer needing to hold her up, his free hand drifted down to part her kimono and touch between her legs.

  He groaned and whispered in a husky breath, “You’re so hot and wet. I want you.”

  She wanted to answer, to say how much she wanted him, too, but his finger slid inside her and she lost her breath. His thumb barely brushed over her and she tensed. “That feels amazing...”

  His fingers on her breast moved in harmony with how he was stroking her between her legs. She leaned back against him, exposed and safe in his arms.

  She could feel the thick ridge of his erection behind her, moving with his heartbeats. He whispered, telling her what he wanted to do to her and how good she would taste. How wet she was. He changed the rhythm of his fingers plunging inside her and touched the place that unleashed the tight coil inside her.

  Bright lights burst behind her eyes. She came apart, calling his name. He held her in his arms, stroking her gently through the aftermath until she drooped limp as a rag doll gasping for air.

  Josh was breathing just as hard and, speaking of hard, yes he was. He spoke close to her ear. “You just blew my mind with how fast you came. I want to be inside you. Now.”

  She didn’t think she had enough energy to nod.

  He touched her stomach, massaging his way down until his fingers slid into her again and convinced her she wanted him inside her, too.

  “Tell me,” he said, pushing in and out of her. “What do you want?”

  “You. Now.”

  He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her all the way to his bedroom where he shed his clothes and laid her down and knelt, his legs on each side of her body.

  She’d only thought what she’d felt was impressive. Josh, naked and fully aroused was a sight worthy of worship.

  He leaned over, reaching for his nightstand and came back with a condom he ripped out of the package and rolled into place.

  She couldn’t think beyond watching him. She forgot to breathe.

  He had beautiful roped muscles that flexed as he moved, curving and shaping his masculine body. He lowered that amazing body until he was covering hers and the kissing started again. She ran her hands over his skin, pausing to tease the hard nipples on his chest and he bit her gently.

  She shivered at the erotic feeling that invaded her. When she cupped his balls, he hissed and warned, “Careful. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

  But he had no idea how much she needed him right back.

  His mouth captured hers, hungry and demanding until he changed direction and dropped lower to suckle her breast.

  She reached up and grasped his sides, desperately hanging on to him through the chaos he raised in her body. But when he pulled away, he backed up until his knees were by hers. He kissed the insides of her thighs, his fingers moving ahead of his lips, caressing her into another erotic fever.

  Then he used his tongue on her and she bowed off the bed. “I’m going to...uh...again...”

  The power of her orgasm shocked her. She felt tears sting her eyes and had no idea what she was saying, just floated, suspended in time.

  No past. No future. Just now.

  Then Josh was back, kissing her breasts and her neck.

  That was not helping her regain her equilibrium. He couldn’t do that to her again. She wouldn’t survive.

  But neith
er would she complain about dying this way.

  She reached down and grasped his thick erection, stroking up and down.

  He moaned. “Killing me.”

  “Only fair,” she countered. “What are you waiting for?”

  He lifted up and stared down into her eyes. “To be sure you’re ready.”

  She knew he didn’t mean wet, because that was obvious. He wanted to know she had this–him and her–straight in her mind.

  Did she? No, not really.

  But would that stop her right now? Not a chance. “I’m ready.”

  “Keep your eyes open,” he ordered quietly. He pushed inside her slowly, watching her face as she adjusted to him.

  Even if she’d wanted to close her eyes and shut out his face, she couldn’t. His gaze held onto her, refusing to let go. His biceps bulged as he held his weight off of her and moved in a slow, easy rhythm. His skin glistened with perspiration.

  The man had ridiculous control and she’d had none. She lifted up on his next stroke and forced him deep inside her.

  His eyes blazed with an intensity that should scare her.

  It inspired her instead.

  She curved her arms up under his and hooked his shoulders. “Stop holding back on me. I want to feel you deep inside, feel every...hard...stroke–”

  Power snapped in his body. He pushed again and again, faster now. Veins stood out on his forehead.

  She didn’t believe she could come again, not until he reached between them and proved her wrong when she felt herself let go again.

  AA

  Josh had almost gained control again until Trish had whispered, “I want to feel you deep inside, feel every...hard...stroke–”

  His orgasm went nuclear, blinding him to everything except pounding into her sweet heat. Spent, he collapsed, unable to hold himself away from her physically...or emotionally.

  He’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, but this one might top all of them. He could not want a woman this much. Not with his life. Chelsea had been the cog that fit neatly into a spot he’d created.

  Nothing about Trish was neat or simple.

  She couldn’t fit into a life wrought with danger and deceit.

  Trish’s fingers stroked up and down his back. “I know this is going to end soon and I’ll never see you again.”

  He brought his elbows in and pushed up to search her face. Eyes soft and more relaxed than he’d seen her in days, she shielded thoughts behind that walled-up gaze. Never see her again? He’d rather take a knife in the gut, but she’d only pointed out reality.

  Fuck reality. He’d figured out a way to make it work with Chelsea. But Chelsea didn’t survive, did she? He wouldn’t let Trish put herself in danger. She was...important.

  Someone who deserved more than a friends-with-benefits relationship, but his life didn’t allow for more. Would Trish be willing to meet up on occasion to spend a couple of hot nights together?

  Would he be satisfied with that?

  No.

  That was reality. The kind Josh had never allowed to intrude on his shallow existence. He swallowed, at a loss for words or ideas, but he didn’t want to give her up when this was done. They could find a way to make something work. “When this is over and we find the stalker–”

  She lifted a hand to his lips. “Josh, please don’t.”

  “What?” Don’t what? Don’t touch her, don’t kiss her, don’t act on this attraction neither of them could deny?

  “Don’t say something that will make me hope for what I can’t have. I’ll take what we can have now and be content. I understand that you can’t share everything about yourself, but for more than this I need all of you.”

  Meaning she wanted to know about his life, his family. Things he couldn’t share as long as he stayed in this business.

  He reached over and brushed the back of his finger along her cheek. He’d been on the verge of saying they would talk about seeing each other after this was over, but Trish was right. He had no intentions of sharing all those details. Uncle Ty was shaking his head, wondering what kind of fool thought he could have a woman like Trish and be in this business.

  A man who wanted to fill the empty hole in his chest.

  Her eyes moistened before she closed them. Her silky black lashes fluttered, stark against her creamy cheeks. “I’m not up to talking any more tonight. I should go to my bed.”

  She might as well have said the last word, because he heard it in his mind. Alone.

  The way he was destined to spend the rest of his life.

  Chapter 37

  Ryder paced back and forth, caged in a hotel room. He should tell Sabrina he wasn’t cut out for surveillance. Stick him in miserable weather where he had to sit in the same spot for hours waiting on a target to enter his crosshairs and he was fine, but this private eye shit made him twitchy.

  “You’re supposed to be grabbing some sleep,” Dingo said without looking up from the laptop on the desk. He was taking his turn at watching several hidden security camera feeds Ryder had installed in parking decks near the task force offices and inside the task force reception area.

  Nick had the current shift covering surveillance at the shipping docks, where a container for High Vision had cleared customs yesterday and no one had collected the contents yet.

  DEA had inspected the container. Bunch of parts for lab equipment.

  Dingo clicked a couple of keys and suggested, “Watching movies puts me out.”

  Sleep had been an elusive quest for a long time. Ryder lived in a perpetual state of unrest, crashing for fast naps when he needed them. He didn’t answer Dingo, who could talk to a stump.

  “Reading helps you sleep,” Dingo offered.

  No. Spending a night screwing the eyes out of someone like Leanne might help me sleep. But that wouldn’t happen and even if it did he’d only get a few hours respite.

  “Yoga is good, too, if you know how to do it.”

  Lucky me that Sabrina sent along a sleep therapist. Ryder’s cell phone buzzed. He snatched it out of his pocket before the second buzz, recognizing the number, and answered with his real name. “Van Dyke.”

  The man who owned Kearn Industries said, “I got your message about meeting. Does this have anything to do with your father or are you finally going to accept my offer of employment?”

  The things Ryder did for his brother. “This is about the contract Hubrecht wants to discuss with you.”

  “I’ve already given him my answer, but if you’d like to meet I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

  Meet? Shit. Ryder had hoped to avoid that, because Kearn was known for being a master at negotiating in person. He preferred face-to-face contact and would fly across the world, sure of closing a deal.

  And return home successful.

  But Ryder wanted no part of the business he’d grown up with, in any form. If he accepted Kearn’s cherry deal, Hubrecht Van Dyke would go ballistic and bust harder on Terrence. If Ryder accepted Hubrecht’s standing offer, Ryder would walk back into the snake pit of Van Dyke Enterprises he’d joined the Army to escape.

  “Have you changed your mind, Van Dyke?”

  “No. I’m in Miami. Give me a time and place.”

  Of course, Kearn wanted to meet now at his home in Belle Glade on the south end of Lake Okeechobee, just as Terrence had thought. It would take every bit of an hour to make the drive if he didn’t get caught behind someone on the two-lane parts of Highway 27. Ryder checked his time. Closing in on ten-thirty. He was off for the next three and a half hours. He ended his call and turned to Dingo who didn’t wait to hear what Ryder had to say.

  “Sounds like you have somewhere to go. Be back by oh-two-hundred to take your shift watching the containers, mate.”

  Ryder did appreciate that about Dingo. No bullshit. He started to ask if Dingo was sure, but figured if Dingo hadn’t been he’d have said so. “Anything changes, call me. I’ll head straight back.”

  Dingo nodded, apparently not wa
sting his therapeutic advice on the terminally indifferent.

  Ryder spent the drive up to see Kearn with the music at ear-bleeding level, the only volume for listening to Lagoon 5. His meeting went pretty much as expected, with Kearn offering Ryder more than he was making with Slye Temp and plenty of fringe benefits, but signing on with Sabrina and Slye Temp hadn’t been about money.

  He’d needed to be out in the field doing something he considered productive, not boxed in an office where he couldn’t breathe and schmoozing assholes who sucked up too much of the world’s oxygen.

  Kearn had understood about Ryder’s rejecting the position, but not so much when the conversation turned to Hubrecht. Kearn said he refused to do business with a man who would sell his own mother for a deal.

  No argument there.

  Ryder turned out of Kearn’s long driveway in night as dark as tar pitch, procrastinating over calling Terrence, who was waiting anxiously to hear the outcome. Cell service would be spotty on the drive back through the Everglades Wildlife Management area. Might as well get this over with.

  When Terrence answered, Ryder kept it short. “Kearn won’t deal with Hubrecht or you. I tried my best to get him to meet you for lunch or something, but he said he didn’t trust Hubrecht not to show up without warning. I think he would probably work with Van Dyke if he knew he’d be working with just you. Sorry, bro.”

  “I understand. Thank you for trying.” Poor Terrence sounded kicked in the jewels. “I...was excited so I told Father, but I’ll explain it didn’t work out.”

  Ryder clenched the steering wheel, really miserable now that Terrence had to go to Hubrecht with his tail tucked. He had nothing better than, “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, really. I appreciate your getting involved at all. Where are you now?”

  “Just leaving. On my way back to Miami.”

  “Will you be home any time soon?”

  Home to Terrence meant the Hubrecht mansion in Atlanta. Not for Ryder. He’d never felt at home there, growing up as the adopted bastard child. “Don’t know my schedule for a bit. I’ll call when I’m back and we’ll–” Grab a beer? Terrence probably couldn’t drink with all the medicine he took. “Grab a burger,” Ryder finished.