by Aliyah Burke
“Thirty minutes exactly.” He was gone.
Sliding her phone into her pocket, she turned to find the three approaching, all with questions in their expressions.
“You two should go.” She hugged each of them and kissed their cheeks.
“We can help more.”
Jager inserted himself beside her again, the heavy weight of his arm along her back comforting even as it was telling. Claiming. Possessive.
“You two have done enough,” he said.
“He’s right,” she agreed. “It’s dangerous if you linger. Thank you for everything, the money, guns, and for not asking too many questions.”
Xandra grinned. “Thought I’d ask about the size of his dick on the second meeting.”
They all laughed—the tension dispelled.
“Go,” she ordered.
Xaya held out her hand and there were a set of keys in them. She recognized them.
“To your Goat?”
“It’s been driven but is still under dad’s name. That bike will be a beacon for those looking.” She shrugged. “He’ll take care of you.” Xaya grabbed her cousin’s hand and they began back to the door. “Be careful, we’ll expect updates and for you two both to be at the house as soon as you can. I’ll just tell Dad you are off having hot sex with your man. You know he’ll want to meet him.”
They slipped through the door and were gone, leaving her alone with Jager.
“She wasn’t kidding, was she?”
“Nope, neither of them were.”
His lips caressed her forehead. “I like them. A lot. And I can’t wait until we meet once more.” He pulled her with him over to a large desk and sat in the chair before placing her on his lap. “Tell me about the call.”
They’d already gone through the bag and knew what weapons they now had at their disposal. She had the ASPs on her and knew that Jager had some pistols. Right now, though, her mind wasn’t on the weapons or anything other than the man she rested against.
“I’ve called a man I trust in law enforcement. He said he knows some people on the force here in Gregory that he trusts. When I call him back in thirty, he’ll give us a location we can meet them.”
“And these men, will you trust them?”
“Because he does, yes.”
“Okay then.”
“How are you doing?” She didn’t move to where she could see his face but stayed curled up against him.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry you lost your handler.” Xahara tipped her head up and pressed a light kiss to his throat, loving the way his facial hair tickled her skin.
“Thank you.” He was tense but relaxed a bit.
She wished he trusted her enough to share with her, but she couldn’t be mad. She’d not told him more about her contact, so they both played close to the vest. Still, she wanted him to trust based on nothing more than her word. So she just stayed there, one hand splayed over his chest.
“Why do you call me Dove?”
Lacing his fingers tighter on the woman who currently sat on his lap, he thought over her question. It was one he’d answered when her cousins had asked, but while he’d told them a bit, they didn’t have the full truth.
“You’re a messenger like doves are symbols for. They are soft and beautiful, same as you. And they are my favorite. Same as you.”
“Again with the words, Jager.”
“Best way for me to answer your question.” He turned his head and rested it on top of hers, loving how soft her curls were. “Unless you’d like me to lay you out on that desk and see if I can’t make you scream my name as I’m feasting between your legs on my pussy. Because I’m happy to do that as well.”
“As much as I would love that, this is nice too.”
He agreed. Just holding her. Not being shot at, not having others there, not riding on a bike for their lives. Silence surrounding them. This was nice.
“Tell me about your cousins.”
She did, and they passed the time before her follow-up call entertaining him with stories of their childhood. While they’d not grown up in the same city or even state, they’d remained close from the early years.
He didn’t let her go when she dug the phone from her pocket and dialed the number she needed. Jager was pleased she had it on speaker.
“Right on time,” a male voice said with a mixture of appreciation and something else, Jager wasn’t a fan of.
“Thanks for this, Scar. I have him with me, so where are we going to meet?”
“There’s a lot of shit going on right now, Ace.”
Jager frowned. Ace? Who the fuck is this guy and why did he call her that?
“Tell me something I don’t know. Are we okay with your friend?”
“Yes. But he needs a bit more time to get away. He said we would meet somewhere public that way when he was followed it will just be as if he is out and about. I’ll get texted where as soon as he figures it out.”
She didn’t respond immediately, and Jager looked down the same time as she lifted her head in his direction. He could read her question all over her face—she wanted to make sure he was okay with that. He appreciated that she was letting him be part of this.
He placed a light and all-too-short kiss on her full lips. “Let’s do it.”
They got the address and the time. After listening to the man give her a few more warnings in that concerned voice of his, Jager ended the call and tossed the phone on the desk.
“That was rude,” she admonished.
“Who is he to you?”
“A friend.”
He gripped her neck and readjusted her so she was face to face with him. Then he asked again.
“Who is he to you?” Even if he’d wished, he wasn’t able to hide the jealousy and possession in his tone.
She didn’t back down or look away from him. Instead she looped her arms around his neck and shifted closer, her knees settling on either side of his legs in the chair, placing her pussy directly over his cock. Which of course swelled at the hope and anticipation of being allowed back inside her.
“I told you.” She kissed the corners of his mouth. “A friend.”
“Dove,” he rumbled.
“I’ve known him for years. I trust him with everything that I am—however, if you’re trying to ask have I let him fuck me, the answer is no. Nor, before you get all growly about my words, have I wanted to. And I’m ninety percent sure he doesn’t want to do me either.”
“Keep it that way.”
Her lips quirked up, ever so brief but he still smiled in automatic response. “Pretty sure his girlfriend does that.”
“Not wife?”
“They’ve been together for years. Pretty sure she would geld him if he looked in another direction. Not sure. Haven’t asked. Don’t care to know.”
“Mine.” His growled admission was made lips to lips.
“Always.”
Pushing his hands into her curls, he dominated her mouth. Unsure if she was aware of the word she had allowed to slip through, he wasn’t about to give her a chance to renege on it.
* * * *
Two hours later, they were walking through the carnival hand in hand, as if they were just another couple enjoying the day. He’d swiped a hat and sunglasses to help hide his face a bit more. Xahara had pulled all her hair up and it poofed out from the top of her head, allowing him to stare at the elegant lines of her neck. She was so damn delicate, and yet he couldn’t forget the circumstances of when they’d first met. Nor this morning.
There were so many layers on this woman, and he looked forward to peeling them all back. While he wasn’t a fan of them being out in the public and so exposed, he understood. It had to look good, because he wasn’t sure who he could trust within his organization at the moment, a fact that chafed. He was used to being in control and knowing all the ins and outs of the situations he discovered himself in.
Not this time.
All of that had changed the moment
this woman had kicked and punched her way into his life. Again, a flash of her setting him up danced through his mind, but he shut that shit thought down.
Fast.
She couldn’t have known this was going to happen as it had, and how could she have put herself in the exact place at the right moment? Not to mention, the fear she’d had for her cousins had been palpable.
Xahara was trustworthy.
Enough said.
“Ohh, cotton candy.” She dragged him over to a vendor and bounced on the toes of her slip-on shoes as they waited in line.
An indulgent smile was tugged from his lips as he watched her share a conspiratorial grin with a small girl in front of them. The child was about five and had her blonde hair in two high ponytails. On her shirt was a crown and the words ‘Daddy’s Princess’ surrounding it.
“I’m having cotton candy,” she said.
“Me too,” Xahara replied, squeezing his hand. “Do you know what color you’re getting?”
“Blue.”
She nodded sagely. “Good choice. I’m thinking green.”
The girl’s father turned and gave them both a smile as he chucked his daughter under the chin. The love he had for her was obvious for anyone to see. Jager stiffened as he was hit with an image of him standing there, one boy in his arm, a small girl that had hair like his Dove gripping his hand, and his woman with him, a soft smile on her face as she rubbed her very pregnant belly.
“Baby?” she asked. “You okay?”
Damn, she was intuitive.
“Fine.”
Another lie, but he couldn’t very well tell this woman he’d not known for more than a week, that he was picturing them married with kids and another on the way. She took him at his word and continued chatting with the child as they made their way up to place their order. The girl did get blue and she waved as she walked away, safe in her daddy’s arms, face sticky with the treat already.
“Green and pink?” the vendor clarified.
“Please.”
Jager pulled a twenty out of his pocket and paid while she waited for her stick of cotton candy. His cock pulsed in his jeans as he watched her eat a bite, her eyes rolling back and one of her incredible moans leaking free.
“Want some? It’s delicious.” She held it in his direction, and they continued on their way to the meeting place.
“Never been a fan.”
She shrugged. “Your loss.”
After pinching off another chunk, she pushed it between her lips and his cock misbehaved once more. Grabbing her around the waist, he laid claim to her lips, thrusting his tongue deep, stealing her flavor and that of her indulgence.
“You, on the other hand,” he admitted, “I’m addicted to.”
Jager couldn’t get enough of how his kisses seemed to scatter her wits and she had to take a few seconds to come back to herself. Waiting, he continued holding her.
“Wow.” She blinked at him and smiled.
That megawatt smile was one he wouldn’t mind having in his life for the rest of his days.
“You said it, Dove. Come on.”
His relaxed attitude vanished the second a male voice hollered, “Ace!” Tense, he looked toward the direction of the yell and scowled when a tall, fit black man jogged in their direction.
Chapter Nine
Jager’s touch on her grew even more possessive the closer the man came. She had no clue who this was, but given the fact that he’d called out her SWAT nickname, she didn’t doubt for a second that he had been sent by Scar.
The man slowed as he neared, and she stepped forward, aware that this had to look good. A brief hug and she was drawn back to Jager’s chest. The man didn’t lose his smile or bat an eye. He did, however, hold out his hand to Jager.
“I’m Duke.”
She didn’t fight when Jager reached around her to shake his hand, just smiled and ate a bit more of her cotton candy.
“What do you say we grab some food”—Duke cast a disparaging look in the direction of her cotton candy—“real food and catch up?”
“You know,” she snipped. “Just because you two don’t understand the complexities of cotton candy is no reason to be down on it.”
Duke laughed and rolled his eyes. “You never change.”
They took up position on either side of her and headed amongst the vendors until each had grabbed what they deemed real food. After that, they went to a section of tables and picked one that was fairly clean.
She found it amusing that the men remained angled toward one another, which made it look like they were doing it to talk—but she knew without a doubt that it was to keep an eye out behind each other, to make sure they weren’t snuck up on. She, on the other hand, sat between Jager’s legs, both her feet on one side of the bench.
“Thank you,” she said as they ate. “For the assist.”
“Scar is one hell of a man, Ace. He doesn’t ask for favors, so when it came in, there was no doubt he believed everything he said and knew you were in danger.”
Jager dunked a few fries in some mustard and ate them, his free hand settled on her waist like any man in love with his woman. Not wanting to let her go even to eat some junk food.
“What are we in?” She opened her mouth and took the fries he held to her lips. The hot, salty food was delicious, even with mustard on it, and she moaned in thanks.
Duke’s dark gaze swung to Jager. “How much does she know?”
“Not enough,” she snapped, not pleased that this man knew more than she did.
“Just that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Tell her what you know.” Jager took a bite of fries for himself after making that order.
Thank fuck he wasn’t insisting she not be let in on it all.
Without missing a beat, Duke launched into his explanation. “Shortly after you’d been sent in, the one who spearheaded this undercover op was killed.”
The man against her stiffened, and her heart ached for the pain he had to be feeling. This wasn’t a good day on the news front for him.
“How?”
“Made to look like an accident.”
Xahara ate more cotton candy. “Made to look?” Her cop instincts were screaming and she had no doubt that so were Jager’s.
“According to my source, they never contradicted the findings that were initially posted about it. But there was deliberate sabotage done to the car he crashed. From what I learned, they realized there was a mole then and wanted to flush him, or her, out.”
“But they never told him?” Fury skated up through her.
Jager’s touch slid along her skin and she sank into him a bit even as she wondered when his hand had gotten below her shirt to find skin.
Duke shrugged. “Not the first time an op has gone sideways.”
“So the handler they sent, one of the good guys or bad?” Jager’s question was monotone.
“They weren’t sure. Feelings on him?”
“Not sure. He was killed this morning, lost part of his head.” Again, no inflection. “However, he kept putting off having us scoop up the group and never gave a reason. Had we done it on time, that incident in the club wouldn’t have happened.”
“Our team is ready to move—we just need to know when and where.”
“I’ll tell you, but she’s safe and out of it.”
“Fuck that,” Xahara snapped. “I’m in this as much as you are.”
“I just watched my goddamn handler’s head get blown off. I’m not risking you, Dove.”
She turned so they were face to face. “That’s not a decision you get to make.”
“Bullshit. That’s my stipulation. Or I wait until you go get us a drink, and we make plans without you. I refuse to have you in the line of fire.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It was different when it was necessary, Dove. It’s not now. Duke has a team, so you can be safe.”
Her blood boiled. She reached down within her and found the fortitude to let this go. It wasn’t her battle, even i
f she had blood in the ring.
Betrayal surged and she nodded, turning away from him to find Duke watching her. “I guess he’s right. I’d probably just get in the way.”
She didn’t doubt for a second that Duke knew she was SWAT or something of a similar unit in Gregory, but he didn’t question her decision, just nodded.
“I’ll ride with you two. I had my woman drop me off. I know she wants to see you though.” He finished up his burger and wiped his mouth, before sliding the container to the left.
Jager was done shortly after, and they walked away, dropping their trash in the receptacle. The acidic wave bubbling inside her didn’t fade—quite the opposite. It grew as she walked, once again between them, to the shiny black GTO her cousin had lent her.
“Fuck,” Duke groaned. “That is a work of art.”
She grinned, moving away from Jager’s touch. As painful as it was to admit to herself, they weren’t meant to be sustained. He was about his job and she was something to be protected and put away. She might as well break herself from being touched by him and the comfort it brought her.
“I know, isn’t it. My cousin has great taste.”
“I’m thinking I need to meet her.”
“You’d like her.”
“Any woman who has this as a car, is already fine as shit in my opinion.”
“Let’s go,” Jager groused, pushing between them.
After they piled in, she followed the directions from Duke, who sat in the back. They didn’t go to the station but pulled up to a very nice house with a gate. She punched in the provided code then rolled the GTO up the drive once the gate shut behind them.
“The car that was following us is parked up the street,” Duke said. “My people are running its plates.”
Her body hummed with the adrenaline that came with an op, but she toned it down. This wasn’t one she was allowed to be in on.
Parking on the curve in front of the house, she got out after cutting the engine and waited as the men climbed out of the other side.
Duke shrugged. “My parents left it to me.” He gestured. “Come on in. Everyone is waiting.”
Right. To do this, without her. Swallowing her bitterness, she pasted a smile on her face that went from forced to real the second she was inside. It was familiar to her—the smell of gun oil, the adrenaline on the air as the men there prepped. Everyone fell silent as they walked into the den.