Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops)

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Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) Page 26

by Brant, Kylie


  Their hands battled each other’s as they sought to release the button and zipper on his jeans. He allowed her to finish the task as he guided her legs around his hips. She’d barely freed his manhood from the heavy jeans, her fingers exploring his rigid length urgently, when he uttered a hoarse plea. “Now, Jaida. I want to be inside you now.” The words were rasped across her lips, urging them open even as she moved to respond. Her hand guided his pulsing length to the part of her that was warm, damp and aching. Then he entered her with a heavy thrust that drove the breath from her chest.

  Her eyes opened dazedly, and the eroticism of the scene encompassing her was more than she could bear. The expressionless mask was gone from his face. His eyes were tightly closed, a sheen of perspiration dampening his brow. Passion sharpened the planes and angles of his countenance.

  His hands went to her hips. Then he thrust again, this time reaching deeply inside her, and reality flickered away. There was only sensation. Her arms crept around his shoulders. Her breasts were flattened against his chest, his mouth hard and demanding on hers. He began to thrust with heavy power, his hips hammering into hers. His breathing was harsh, the sound mingling with her soft moans.

  The savagery of their desire was too acute to last for long. He could feel her body tighten and he increased his rhythm, pounding into her with heavy force. He felt her legs crawl higher, until they were clenched around his back. When he heard the keening cry escape her lips, he gave one last long, heavy roll of his hips and then shuddered against her as he convulsed.

  They clung to each other, unable to let go. Each soothed the other as the quaking rippled through them, as muscles slowly relaxed. Long minutes stretched before Trey could gather the strength to move. He slipped out of her carefully and scooped her into his arms. Then, deliberately, he made his way to her bedroom and followed her down onto the bed.

  He finished undressing her with silent, efficient movements, the intense concentration on his face almost making her weep. Then he rose and swiftly divested himself of the rest of his clothes.

  She watched in the darkness, a little amazed at the desire that had overtaken them, so savage and sudden that neither of them had fully disrobed. In the next second he was under the quilt with her, his weight causing them both to sink down into the feather tick mattress.

  She turned to him immediately, unwilling to relinquish his touch for even an instant. He gathered her close, and rubbed his face against her tangled mass of gold hair. One hand caressed her spine soothingly.

  “How did you know to come here?” she murmured drowsily. Even as she spoke the words, she knew his answer didn’t matter. She’d needed him, and then he’d been there. His hard arms were holding her close, and his still thudding heartbeat was sounding in her ear. She’d never felt safer. “I need to tell you. That man . . .”

  “Sh-h-h,” he whispered. “It can wait until morning. Sleep now, honey. Just sleep.”

  He held her long after she slipped into slumber, listening to the deep, even cadence of her breathing. He needed the continued physical contact. The realization of how easily he could have lost her tonight kept his adrenaline flowing, and sleep at bay. He didn’t mind. It was enough to hold her like this, to feel those now-familiar sparks everywhere their skin touched.

  It was enough knowing that he wasn’t going to let her go again.

  Jaida offered the last pancake to Trey, then slipped it onto her own plate when he shook his head. It didn’t bother her that he watched her eat with indulgent satisfaction, nor did it bother her that she’d devoured more breakfast than he had, although he was close to twice her weight. When she got to the point that he could no longer scoop her easily up into his arms or carry her to bed, then she would be bothered.

  Earlier he’d relayed everything that Kasem had told the federal agents about the scheme to snatch Benjy and present him to his paternal grandparents, hoping the elder Pennings would reward them well for their efforts. She considered the information as she cut into the pancake.

  Her eyes met his, stunned to see the now-familiar look of lambent desire shimmering in them. Slowly, provocatively, she licked a drop of syrup from the corner of her lips. Warm satisfaction curled inside her as his eyes slitted, following her movements with fixed interest. His voice was husky when he spoke the words that shattered her self-congratulation.

  “If you’re trying to get me back in bed, honey, I’m more than willing. But I have a feeling your local sheriff is going to be making an appearance soon, and I don’t really think you want him walking in on us, do you?”

  She frowned thoughtfully, not at his words, but at the memory they’d elicited.

  “About the sheriff,” she began uncertainly. “I’m afraid I’ve done something that isn’t quite . . . well, legal.”

  He cocked one elegant eyebrow questioningly, and she was distracted for the moment by the achingly familiar sight. She’d never thought to see him make that arrogantly lovable gesture again, hadn’t thought she’d be held by him, make love to him again. Emotion welled up inside her, scattering her thoughts like wisps of clouds.

  When she didn’t elaborate, Trey responded, “Somehow I can’t see you as the next candidate for the chain gang. What did you do? Ignore a parking ticket?”

  “Not exactly,” she mumbled, her gaze skirting his. “That man who broke in here, he was the other—”

  “Kidnapper,” Trey finished for her. “I know, honey. It took me a while to put it all together in Colorado. Maria Kasem identified him. His name is Tony Franken.”

  “He worked for Penning,” she whispered.

  “He used to, yes. He was one of William’s bodyguards, until, I suspect, he fell out of favor because he was on duty when Lauren escaped. Then he must have fled for his life.”

  “He won’t rest until he has Benjy again.”

  “That’s why he was here,” Trey said tersely. “He hoped to get Benjy’s new location from you. He must have grabbed your purse from the park.” And then he must have hightailed it to Arkansas, Trey thought grimly, fighting renewed fury at the idea. All the time they’d spent hoping Franken was still in the vicinity of the park, or even later, thinking he might have followed them back to Boston, had been time wasted. Because the bastard had probably been near here the entire while, biding his time until he could make his move on Jaida.

  His fist clenched involuntarily, his anger directed as much at himself as it was at Jaida’s attacker. Jaida, seeing the action, reached over and covered his fist with her hands.

  “Don’t,” she said softly. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “I should have figured it out sooner. In the excitement of finding Benjy, capturing Maria, I didn’t think of the significance of you losing your purse with all your ID.”

  “Neither did I,” she remarked.

  His mouth twisted. “The difference is, sweetheart, that I’m trained to think of things like that. I failed to protect you, failed to consider you’d need protection. And you were almost killed as a result. That’s pretty damn unforgivable.”

  And his was an unforgiving nature, she knew, hardest on himself. He’d spent his life blaming himself for failing Lauren and then her son. He was a man adept at an emotionless facade, but behind the front he maintained emotions that burned hotter, more intensely than did other people’s.

  “Stop it,” she said sharply, startling him. “You may be perfecting the art of walking on water, but you’re not God and you’re not infallible. No one else expects you to be, so quit beating up on yourself. Let go of that damn load of guilt you carry around and stop feeling responsible for the world. You’re not, you know. We’re all responsible for ourselves, and when we can help each other, well, then that’s great. But we can’t always be there and we can’t always help. Accept that and go on.”

  He eyed her with bemusement. “Have you been talking to Lauren?”

  “No, not since Boston. Why?”

  He shook his head, wondering at the similarity between this conve
rsation and the one he’d had with his sister, before he and Jaida had even started their search. “The two of you have a lot in common,” he muttered.

  “As terrifying as last night was,” Jaida said, “I think we can turn it to our advantage. That man, Franken, wasn’t just Penning’s bodyguard. He was a . . . I don’t know what you’d call him, a hired gun, maybe. Trey. . .” She hesitated, shuddering at the memory of the deadly scene that had transmitted to her at Franken’s touch. “I think Franken is the one who pulled the trigger that time, killing the man who died at Penning’s feet.”

  She had Trey’s full attention now, and she took a deep breath before delivering her next words.

  “And I think I know how to find him.”

  Chapter 18

  “Explain,” Trey ordered Jaida tersely.

  “Last night, I didn’t escape from Franken right away. He grabbed me . . . just my ankle,” she hastened to add when she saw Trey go tense. “He was dazed from the blow, but I still picked up on a scene from his past. It matched with the one I saw when Penning touched me.”

  “Can you describe it for me?”

  She hesitated. “There were four of them. Franken, Penning, another man and the one who got shot. Weber,” she added after a moment.

  Trey leaned forward urgently. “You know the victim’s name?”

  “It was all part of the scene I picked up from Franken. They were in someplace big, shadowy, cavernlike. A parking garage, maybe.”

  He surveyed her, his mind racing. “That means Franken’s worth to us just multiplied. Not only did he kidnap my nephew—”

  “He can also explain the source of the bloodstained clothing Lauren stole from Penning,” Jaida interjected.

  Trey nodded. “If you’re right and Franken can connect Penning to a murder, we’d no longer have to worry about him finding Lauren.”

  “She and Benjy would finally be free to live in peace.”

  “If,” Trey said grimly, “Franken could be persuaded to turn state’s evidence on his former boss. And if the man can ever be found.” Remembering her earlier words, his gaze lifted to hers.

  She managed to look both stubborn and incredibly guilty at once. “This is where we get to the kind of illegal thing I was telling you about. Last night one of the deputies found a black, leather glove lying on my kitchen floor. They were going to take it in as evidence, but I sort of said . . . I told him . . .”

  “You told him . . .” Trey urged when she didn’t go on.

  The rest of the words came out with a rush. “I said the glove was Granny’s, one of a set. That she used it for gardening . . . .” Her voice trailed off. “It was all I could think of.” She snuck a peek at him. He was eyeing her expressionlessly.

  “I wonder what kind of time you can get in Arkansas for withholding evidence,” he finally asked aloud.

  She glared at him. “Don’t be obtuse. Franken dropped it. He was wearing a pair when he was in the house. I was pretty fuzzy by the time the sheriff got here, but when they talked about finding a glove I operated on pure instinct. Don’t you see? I can use that glove to lead you right to Franken.”

  “No.” The word cracked like a whip. He rose from his chair so quickly it teetered behind him. “Not again. I’m not going to let you undergo that again. Not now that I know what it costs you.”

  “What’s it going to cost Lauren if I don’t?” she countered. “What’s it going to cost Benjy? They can’t go home again until Franken is apprehended. They can never live a normal life until Penning is out of the picture. How else is that going to happen if I don’t go through with this?”

  He stared at her bleakly. She was presenting him with a Hobson’s choice, forcing him to choose between two equally distasteful decisions. What kind of man would he be if he let her hurt herself to help him, to help Lauren?

  “You really don’t have a choice, you know.”

  Her words, delivered in that airy drawl of hers, fueled his temper. “I don’t?”

  She shook her head. “I can find him, with or without you. I want it to be with you, of course. I don’t really wish to encounter Franken alone again.”

  “There’s no way you’re getting near him again,” he snapped.

  “If you say so,” she said simply. She returned to the process of cutting off another piece of pancake, soaking it copiously in syrup, and lifted it to her lips.

  The seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes.

  “You’ve already made up your mind,” he accused. “You’re determined to do this.”

  Intent on savoring her last bite, she merely nodded.

  He muttered an obscenity. Turning on his heel, he went to the window. She used the time to finish her breakfast.

  “There would be no need to come with me,” he said finally. Frustration was rife in his voice. “You could pinpoint his location and I could go alone.”

  “You know it’s not always that easy. Look how many times he moved around with Benjy. We may get lucky and find him on the first try. We may not. You’ll need me with you in case I have to try again.”

  “No.” He shook his head emphatically. “You can wait for me—” He broke off. Her slight smile lit his temper and his imagination. “I can read you like a book, Jaida.”

  “How interesting. Maybe my skills are rubbing off on you.”

  He ignored the gibe. “You’d follow me if I set off by myself, wouldn’t you?”

  “Would I?”

  “Damn right you would.” He glowered at her. He knew the woman well enough to be painfully familiar with her stubborn streak, and when she wore her most angelic expression his blood ran the coldest. Like right now. He might not have her ability, but he knew how her mind worked. She probably had it all planned out.

  “I’ll be safer with you,” she observed logically. “We don’t know whether Franken is going to come back here again.”

  The truth of her words made sweat bead on his forehead. She was right. There was no way she’d be safe here or anywhere in the area. Franken could still be lurking. He wasn’t going to leave her alone, vulnerable again. He couldn’t trust anyone else to take care of her, to protect her the way he could.

  “Damn.” He walked back to the table and glared at her. “I can’t concentrate on finding Franken and wondering whether you’re safe at the same time.”

  “It would be a shame to divide your concentration like that,” she agreed.

  His face lowered to hers, and his teeth were clenched. He’d been outmaneuvered, and finding himself without choices did nothing for his temper. “If you come with me, you’ll do as you’re told. That’s the way it has to be, Jaida. Promise me, now.”

  She smiled angelically. “Trust me.”

  After the sheriff and one of his men had been and gone, Jaida had Trey bring her the glove from beneath the counter. “That’s where I had the deputy put it last night,” she explained, striving to keep the nerves from showing in her voice. Her hand trembled as she took the glove from him, distaste showing on her face as soon as she touched it. And then slowly, as if forcing herself, she slipped her hand inside it.

  He almost warned her not to, actually took a step toward her, as if to stop what would come next. But there was no way to stop the visions that engulfed her, no way to save her from an ability that came from within. He watched her helplessly as she used her gift again, hoping fervently that this time the cost wouldn’t be too high.

  The physical change she underwent was frightening. Her eyes were wide, unfocused. Her face went absolutely bloodless and then her whole body began to quake.

  He crossed to her and unwrapped her fingers from the glove, pulling it off her hand and flinging it aside. In the next moment she bolted from the room, and he followed her into the bathroom, holding her while she emptied her stomach—her body’s reaction to the vileness she’d just immersed herself in.

  He glanced at her now concernedly. He wrapped her in two thick afghans to still her shaking and brought her medication. She refus
ed to take more than one tablet, unwilling to sink into the stuporous slumber her body craved. It was long minutes before she spoke. “He didn’t go far,” she said, her voice a raw whisper. “And he’s going to try again.”

  The city limits of Little Rock were ahead of them, and Trey glanced worriedly at Jaida. She’d barely uttered a word during the drive, answering his questions monosyllabically.

  “Jaida, are you sure you’re going to be all right?” he asked for the dozenth time. “Because I’ve got to tell you, you’re scaring me to death.”

  She wished the pain in her temples would abate enough to let her think so she could gather the words to reassure him. But the vision had been too strong, too repulsive, and her reaction was only going to strengthen.

  “I’m fine.” The weakness in her voice mocked her words and, by the frown between his brows, did little to convince him. “We’re getting closer, that’s all. It’s going to affect me.”

  He looked swiftly at her. “You mean he’s in Little Rock?”

  She nodded and leaned her head on the headrest, letting her eyes slip shut. “Keep driving,” she mumbled. “I’ll tell you where to turn.” The chill was creeping from her skin to her insides now, getting stronger with each passing mile, with each of her mumbled directions. And with each rerun of the cruel twisted scene she’d experienced in the vision, the ice encasing her grew a little thicker.

  Trey eyed the seedy establishment grimly. “Open your eyes, honey,” he said to Jaida, his voice gentle. “Is this it?”

  She forced her eyelids open and gazed unfocusedly at the rundown bar that was identical to so many others in this part of town.

  The Loose Goose. Its name didn’t strike a chord with her, but she knew the place nonetheless. She knew it because it had figured in the last vision. She recognized it from her physical reaction, the chills that seemed to rack her from within. “He’s inside,” she said almost soundlessly.

 

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