by Diana Gardin
My whole body tightens, and Lawson’s voice bleeds through the pressure building inside.
“Let it all go, Indy. I’m right here…I’m gonna be right here. I swear. Let go.”
If I let myself think about his words, really think about them, I might start to freak out. So instead of allowing them to sink in, I let them glance off my soul as I follow his instructions and let go. His orgasm follows mine, and with a groan of pleasure, he drags me down to lie on top of him as his muscles quiver and shake.
This man could be my undoing.
But I can’t allow that to happen.
After spending the rest of the morning in bed, Lawson and I decide to go for the Ferrari. We’re sitting in a café down the road from the enormous beach mansion where the Ferrari’s owner lives. We’ve yet to see the car, because, according to the file Eli had on the flash drive, he keeps it in the garage and drives one of his other ridiculously luxurious vehicles. He’s an older guy, midfifties, married to a woman twenty years his junior.
Stereotypes galore.
“It’s really fucking hard to nail down someone’s habits and routines,” I grumble against my straw, “when they don’t have any.”
Lawson rubs his temples, his frustration evident. “True. But I guess when you’ve just sold a multi-million-dollar company, you don’t really have a lot of places you have to be.”
I groan. “Seriously. We can’t nail down any habits. He’s not going to an office; he doesn’t have a regular gym schedule. The dude doesn’t even go to the grocery store at the same time.”
“Can I just say, though…” Lawson’s voice changes, turning into that molten voice he uses when it’s just me and him in a darkened bedroom and he’s about to make my body sing. My toes curl in the bulky wedges I’m wearing.
“I like this look on you,” he continues, gesturing toward my general appearance. “This beach thing looks damn good on you, Indy.”
My eyes narrow. My hair’s up in a high pony, my neck tattoos on full display, while I’m wearing a black romper that ties in a halter. So maybe I haven’t pulled out the brightly colored florals, but there are some lavender hibiscus printed on the shorts portion of the romper.
Lawson’s husky tone, combined with the blazing look, sends a shiver skating up my spine. “I think that after this is all over, I want to take you somewhere tropical. Just that outfit and a bikini is all you’re allowed to bring.”
I sip my daiquiri to hide my grin. What the hell is happening to me? “You know I don’t respond well to orders. I’ll at least bring some ripped up jeans.”
Lawson’s eyes flash with challenge. “We’ll see.”
When the server walks by, Lawson flags her down. “Can we get an order of mozzarella sticks, please?” He glances at me. “And what for you, sweetheart?” He grins, showing both rows of perfect, white teeth.
But I’m too busy staring at him, because he’s just ordered my favorite food on the planet. “Um, just make that a double order of cheese sticks, please.”
After the server walks away, Lawson chuckles. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you always order those?”
He nods. “Yeah. The guys make endless fun of me for it.”
I’m almost vibrating with the coincidence. “Well, they happen to be my very favorite food. I always order them too.”
Lawson’s sexy smirk stretches his lips. “Well, look at that. Something we have in common. On the way home, we’re buying some for our freezer.”
This time, I don’t bother to hide my grin. Because he used the word home, and it did crazy things to my insides. “Deal.”
We’re quiet for a few moments. And then I ask him something I’ve been wondering about. “Tell me about your sister?”
I don’t have siblings, not even close. And the way he spoke about his twin, she’s special to him. I want to know about her.
A small smile graces his mouth. “Lil? She’s awesome. Fun to be around, but pretty chill at the same time. Actually, I work with her sometimes.”
My eyebrows lift. “Work with her? How?”
Lawson’s large fingers fiddle with his napkin. “She runs this nonprofit, working with women who are in situations they can’t get themselves out of. Battered, abused women who have been through some type of domestic violence. She helps them get away from the situation, has a network of people who will offer up their homes. She even has a facility that’s like a group home for some to stay in if their situation is really desperate. She has a real passion for it. It’s called the Underground.”
My hand rubs the spot over my heart. “Wow. That’s…amazing. How do you help?”
At that moment, the server brings us our platter of cheese sticks. After asking if we need anything else, he hurries away to check on another table.
Lawson grabs a stick and chews, glancing down at his plate before meeting my gaze again. There’s uncertainty in his eyes, like he’s not sure if he should tell me. But then I see it, the moment he decides to tell me whatever it is he does. “I find the women. Some of them. I hang out in bars, listen, watch. Sooner or later, I seem to always weed out the assholes. The ones who hurt the women they’re with. I give the women an option…a way out.”
My heartbeat ratchets up. “How do you do that, Lawson?”
He shrugs. “It’s not always pretty.”
I suck in a breath. I understand exactly what he’s saying, and it makes so much sense. It’s like puzzle pieces clicking into place. It’s like the larger picture of Lawson is coming into view. The reason why he is the way he is. But there’s still a piece missing, and I can’t put my finger on what it is.
“Hold up.” Lawson’s voice cuts across our conversation, the kind of deadly serious that means he’s working again. “Look what’s happening here.”
I immediately glance down the road to the mark’s home. And sure enough, the garage door is opening, the one where he keeps the Ferrari. “We can’t be that lucky.”
Lawson’s already pulled out his wallet and put cash down on the table. “I’ll buy you cheese sticks later, baby. We’ve gotta roll.”
Lawson drops money on the table to pay for our food and we walk quickly to the Acura, which is parked on the street nearby. Once we’re sitting in our car, waiting, we catch the gleaming silver car as it barrels down the street.
“Well, the dude certainly drives it like he’s supposed to, doesn’t he?” Lawson’s chuckle is dark. “Let’s follow and see where he ends up.”
We keep our distance, blending into the traffic behind the luxury car, winding through town until we watch him pull into the parking garage of a hotel in downtown Wilmington.
We glance at each other as we pull into the garage a few seconds later, finding that he’s parked on the top level.
“Well, this is familiar territory,” I remark. “I feel like I could steal a car out of a parking garage in my sleep. Do you think you could get Sayward on the security cameras?”
Lawson’s already pulled out his burner. “Sayward. Yeah, it’s Snyder.” He gives her the information on our situation and listens. When his grin widens, I know she can do it. “Love you, girl. Catch ya soon.”
He glances at me. “She cursed me out. But she’s got us covered.”
I laugh. “I really like that girl.”
Lawson pulls into a parking space right across from the Ferrari. “You ready, baby?”
Tingles shoot through me at the sweet tone and the special word, but I nod. “Absolutely.”
We bail out of our car, moving quick and low, until I’m standing beside the Ferrari while Lawson crouches beside the driver’s side door. He’s faster this time, and it’s open in a matter of seconds. He disables the alarm with a quick snip to a yellow cord under the dash, and I marvel at his capability.
“The SEALS really teach you how to steal a car?” I can’t keep the wonder out of my voice.
Lawson doesn’t even look up. “You don’t want to know all the things the SEALs t
aught me.”
Knowing that’s true, I stay silent while he sits down in the driver’s seat and pulls some wires from beneath the steering wheel. As he touches them together, the deep rumble of the car’s engine roars to life. Leaning down, I press my lips to Lawson’s, before turning and sprinting back to our car.
I follow the Ferrari through town, watching Lawson’s back and making sure we aren’t followed. When he pulls the car into one of the bays at Hawke’s, I finally start to breathe again.
I hop out of the car just as Hawke approaches the Ferrari, whistling low. “One down, one to go, huh?”
Lawson doesn’t smile. “Where’s your cousin?”
Hawke frowns. “Not here. He keeps running off, not tellin’ me where he’s going. It’s not a good feeling. Like he’s keeping something from me.”
“Fuck,” mutters Lawson. “Not good.”
“No, it’s not,” I agree. “Keep us posted, Hawke. If you figure out what he’s hiding, we want to know as soon as you do.”
Hawke flashes me a salute and a smile. “Roger that.”
One success today should feel like we’re one step closer to our end goal. But as Lawson and I climb back into our car and head back to our apartment, there’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach that we’re going to have the rug pulled out from under us before we have a chance to complete this assignment.
18
LAWSON
According to Hawke, Eli was “pleased” with our ability to grab the Ferrari for him. We’re working out the details on the best way to nab the McLaren when the time comes, but we’re also going stir crazy in our apartment with all the downtime this mission allows.
I’m also having a hard time keeping my eyes and my hands off of Indigo.
No woman has ever captivated me or kept me on my toes the way she does, and the thing that pulls me toward her most is her strength and her capability. Working with her side by side on every detail of this assignment has proven that she’s damn good at her job. She’s smart, she’s stealthy, and she’s had my back in a way that’s allowed me to put my full trust in her.
Staring at her now, sitting next to me at the kitchen island with an almost-empty plate of mozzarella sticks between us, I’m trying to figure out when she became this important to me. When she became this person that I’m going to have a really difficult time not seeing every single day when this is all over.
“Want the last cheese stick?”
Indigo’s tone is all innocence and warmth, which lets me know she’s up to something. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, mischief I’ve learned is a natural part of her personality once she comes out of that hard outer shell.
“Nah, you have it.”
She smiles, too sweet. “I had the first one, though. That means you get the last one.”
Shrugging, I reach for the last stick. When my fingers graze the golden crispy breading, her hand darts forward. She grabs it and takes a huge bite. With a gleeful giggle, she’s up out of her chair and sprinting away from the bar. I don’t hesitate, leaping out of my stool and dashing after her.
I catch up to her in the hallway and pin her to the wall. She’s laughing as she brings the rest of the mozzarella stick up to her full lips, and I just take a second to look at her, really look at her
Fucking stunning.
My heartbeat racing, I lean forward with intent written all over my face. She stops laughing, and I grab the mozzarella stick with my teeth, breaking it in half.
“We share,” I murmur, eating my half. “Everything.”
She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine as she chews the other half. After I swallow, I dip my head, needing to taste her, allowing my tongue to trace the point on her neck where her pulse races under her skin. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer and pushing her tits into my chest.
“Fuck, Indy,” I groan into her neck. “I’m hard. I’m always hard around you. You’re making me fucking insane.”
Her nails lightly scratch my neck. Turning my head, I take her mouth. She tastes like the spice from the mozzarella stick. I kiss her like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do, and her response, the way she molds her body to mine and nips at my lip with her teeth, is perfection.
“Lawson,” she whispers, lifting her leg so that her needy pussy can rub against my cock.
“I know what you need, baby. I’m always gonna know what you need.”
Dropping to my knees before her, it occurs to me that I’ll never mind being on my knees for this woman. Instead of making me feel less-than, kneeling in front of her makes me feel like fucking royalty.
Her fucking king.
My gaze lands on the cluster of roses tattooed on her thigh. Colorful reds and purples and greens. My fingers brush against the art and she sighs. I glance up at her; her fingers rest on top of my head as she gazes right back with hooded lids.
“Tell me about these,” I murmur, planting a hot kiss on her thigh.
Her voice husky, she answers me. “I got those because of my first call as a beat cop. We got a domestic disturbance code on the radio, and my partner and I rolled up to this shitty house where the husband was whaling on his wife. When we searched the house after we had him in the car, I heard the sound of crying coming from a closet in the back of the house. I opened it and found three little girls all huddled there, hiding from their dad.”
I swallow hard, watching her face. “Apparently, their mom had told them to get in the closet any time their dad acted that way. They reminded me of when I was their age. They were such beautiful little girls, so strong for what they had endured. I got a rose for each one of them.”
I kiss the tattoo again, this time with more tenderness and affection. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Indy.”
Dipping my fingers into the waistband of the tiny black shorts she’s wearing, I tug them down until she’s able to step out of them.
The white lace thong she wears underneath makes me pause. They’re pure, but sexy at the same time, which is Indy to the bone. A side of her she doesn’t let most people see.
I kiss her stomach and she thrusts her hips forward impatiently, making me chuckle. Blazing a trail of heat down her thigh, licking and kissing each one until her moans border on desperate, I finally pull her underwear to one side and swirl my tongue around her budded, swollen clit.
“Fuck.” It’s a mixture of a scream and a moan, and it sets my nerve endings on fire.
“Give it to me, baby.” I rip off the thong and toss it aside.
Indy shifts from one foot to the other, her hands splayed out against the wall behind her as she works herself into a frenzy. I swirl my tongue around her center again and again, right before I slide two fingers into the tight heat of her pussy. She contracts around me, and it’s the hottest, most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Lawson, oh God, I’m coming. I’m coming…” Her words are a jumbled mess as they leave her mouth, and as I soak up every drop of her release, my cock strains against the zipper of my jeans.
“Gotta have you now, baby.”
Scooping her limp body into my arms, I carry her to the bed and spread her out, shedding my clothes like a snake does its skin and climbing on top of her.
“I’m addicted to you.” It’s a confession I’ve never given anyone, but it’s never been more true in my life. “Can’t deal with what you’re doing to me.”
With eyes full of molten fire, she wriggles out from under me and shoves me down on the bed. Leaning over me, her long hair a shrouded curtain hanging around us, she pulls one of my nipples into her mouth and sucks hard. I watch her, fascinated, as she does the same to the other.
Then she makes her way down my chest, shimmying like the temptress she is until she’s settled between my thighs.
My cock juts out proudly before her, twitching like it knows exactly what’s about to happen.
“I’m about to make you feel so good, Lawson. But be patient with me, because I’ve never done this before.”
I swallow, nodding once. “You can’t do this wrong, baby.”
She takes me in her hands, testing my weight with no hesitation before her pink tongue darts out and licks around the swollen head.
“Fuck. Me.” My head falls about against the pillow.
When she sucks me deep into her mouth, my hips react, rising off the bed. The perfect combination of hot, wet, and tight sucking, she’s a goddess and she has no fucking clue.
Jesus.
I lift my head again, watching as her head bobs, again and again, taking me in until I swear I can feel the back of her throat with the tip of my dick. I can’t help but thrust my hips harder into her mouth, praying that she can take it. She gags, and then she giggles.
Fucking. Giggles.
“Indigo.” My voice carries a note of warning. “You need to move on back up here, baby.”
She looks up, big eyes shining. “What if I don’t wanna?”
Christ, this woman. “Indy…”
But her other hand snakes around to cup my balls, and she swirls her tongue around my head while she sucks me, and it’s too fucking late. I roar her name as my release spurts into her ready and willing mouth. And then when she swallows, my head falls back against the pillow because the woman has just wrung me out.
She crawls up beside me and snuggles her head against my chest, her bare body pressed against mine. Her lush curves fit into all my hard places, and I send up a silent prayer of thanks. Because without this mission, this woman never would have been brought into my life.
Anxiety claws its way to the forefront when I think about her being in danger. The possibility of losing her? It makes me lose my fucking head. And if that were to happen at an inopportune time, when she needs me most…I can’t think about what could happen.
But right now, I’m feeling pretty damn lucky. But I haven’t opened myself up to her completely, and I know it’s time I did that. Especially considering that this woman—this tightly controlled, cautious woman—has opened up to me.