Ford listened for the sound of the front door closing. For footsteps. He heard nothing.
In the hall, he moved fast enough to cover ground but not make noise. Keeping his back against the wall, he skipped the kitchen and any of the back exits and opted for the side exit next to the downstairs laundry room. Not to be confused with the upstairs laundry.
With one last glance down the long hallway behind him and the doorway to the office, he slipped around the corner and headed for the mudroom. Right as he reached the doorway a light flicked on, which meant Anthony was inside.
Motherfiucker.
Ford slid back into the dark hallway before Anthony spied him, but the guy was on the move. Any direction he headed out of the mudroom would put him face-to-face with Ford. No way could he allow that to happen.
Time for an alternate plan. The one where Anthony got hurt.
Ford pulled his cap low and listened to the click of Anthony’s shoes against the tile. Closing in meant Ford had limited time to act. His fingers hit the edge of his karambit, and all of Reid’s training on how to best use the blade came rushing back. Ford’s breathing slowed as he prepared to fight.
This could be a bloody end. He would not hesitate.
Anthony rounded the corner with his attention focused on a piece of paper in his hand. Looked like the mail. Ford knew because he was close enough to reach out and grab it. He went for Anthony instead. He hit him, slamming him into the wall with his face smashed against it.
Pitching his voice low and gravely to hide his identity, Ford issued his first threat. One he’d carry through with if he had to. “One wrong move and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
The older man struggled. Even with fifty pounds on Ford, Ford won. He had the strength and age advantages. All those hours in the gym blessed him with more muscles than fat, unlike the man trapped between his chest and the wall.
Anthony threw his shoulders and tried to launch back and get in a head butt. “Who the hell are you?”
Ford decided right then if the guy gave him the “Do you know who I am?” speech, he might put a bullet in him just on principle.
“Don’t move.” Ford flashed his blade to highlight his point. He didn’t have any intention of cutting the man. Just wanted to scare him. Ford knew from experience the sight of a knife often paralyzed people, even for the briefest of seconds. That was all the time he needed.
West liked to show off his sleeper hold, but Ford had a few moves of his own. He wrapped his left arm around Anthony’s throat with the crook of his elbow right on his windpipe as he ignored the flailing and ducked out of striking range of Anthony’s slapping hand. Ford’s fingers touched the inside of his right arm and he pushed Anthony’s head forward.
In five seconds the blood flow cut off and Anthony’s body went limp. Ford guided the unmoving body to the floor and stood over him.
West walked up beside him and joined in the staring. “You used the Marine stranglehold on him. That’s cool as shit.”
“You Marines take credit for everything.” He clapped West’s shoulder then spoke over the open com. “Let’s get out of here.”
Ford waited until they got to the van parked two blocks away at the end of a cul-de-sac, and hidden amidst the construction equipment for a house teardown and rebuild, to let the fever in his head work its way into his brain. He stripped off the combat gear in case someone decided to look outside and get antsy. The rest of his team stood nearby, grumbling and restless. But at least they all got out.
No thanks to Alliance’s famed consultant. “Where’s Pearce?”
“Here with us,” Ellery said.
“Someone explain,” Ford said, the Bravo team listening in.
“Seems Anthony went to the bathroom and didn’t come back to the table.” A mass of voices sounded behind Ward, and he talked over them. “Ellery has pinpointed a call to Anthony’s cell just before he got up and left.”
The mole. Jesus, Ford hated this assignment.
“Why didn’t Pearce warn us?” Ford asked. That was the million-dollar question and the one that required an immediate answer or West might just greet Pearce with a bullet the next time they saw each other.
There was a brief hesitation on the line that had the Bravo members staring at each other. Then Ward came on again. “He was too busy watching Harlan.”
Heat burned through Ford. “What?”
And by that he really meant Harlan needed to be held down while they all took turns beating the shit out of him as they worked him over for answers. Ford didn’t believe torture resulted in reliable intel, and he held loyalty among the team members as one of the highest required characteristics. When those two belief systems battled each other, loyalty always won, and it was beginning to sound as if Harlan had none.
“He walked into the restaurant while Pearce and Anthony were there, and Pearce admits it threw him off.” Ward cleared his throat. “We’ll talk it through when you guys get back. Rendezvous tomorrow morning.”
No way was Ford letting this lie for twelve more hours. Harlan could make up all sorts of shit and cover his tracks by then. “No waiting. We do this tonight.”
“Damn right,” West mumbled.
“You heard Ward,” Tasha said, breaking into the conversation. “Everyone stand down.”
Fucking Brits.
23
SHAY GRABBED the underside of the headboard and threw her head back into the pillow. Ford had been home for a half hour and already stripped her naked and crawled between her thighs. Energy pulsed off him, as if he were wired with a shot of adrenaline.
He spread her legs wider and kissed his way over her soft skin to the very heat of her. He licked, and a finger pressed deep inside her and her body grew wet with each touch. Her nerve endings already sensitive from the loving attention seemed to fire and spark.
Ignoring the way her hips arched off the bed and her thighs clamped against the sides of his head, she fought for control. Tried to hold off the orgasm and concentrate on the heady sensations battering her. But her internal muscles kept clenching and the pleading hovered right there on her tongue.
“Ford, do it now.” She moved her leg.
He used his palm to pin it to the bed. “Almost.”
But he kept up his sensual torture. His tongue. His fingers. He stretched her and prepped her until sweat formed between her breasts and her head lolled from side to side.
To get him to listen, she slipped her fingers into his hair and lifted his head. Looking down her body, seeing her softness and his dark hair right there, started a whirring deep within her. “I want you inside me.”
Wetness covered his lips and his fingers kept drawing tiny circles over her clit. “Soon.”
Much more and she’d lose it. She was two minutes away from passing out from pleasure. She hadn’t known that was even possible until the first orgasm ripped through her. She headed straight for the second one right now at maximum speed.
Needing to move, to ease the tightening inside her, she drew her knees toward her chest. The shift opened her even wider and he added a second finger inside her.
“You are right on the edge.” His voice was filled with awe and his focus never wavered from her body. He kept up a constant stream of touching and kissing.
But if he kissed there one more time her insides would flip and land outside. “Payback is hell, Ford.”
She managed to pant out the sentence. Just when she decided he planned to ignore her and drive her insane forever, he moved. On his elbows, he crawled up her body, stopping every few inches to land a kiss or brush a finger over her. By the time he took her nipple in his mouth, she couldn’t hold still. She shifted her hips and clenched, trying to throw her body over the edge.
“Nu-uh.” He lifted higher and stared down at her.
They were locked in a staring contest, with
her unable to move, when she heard the telltale rip of paper. His hand slipped down his body and she knew he’d finally found the condom lying next to her shoulder.
It wouldn’t take much to push her over, and when he pushed inside her, slow and steady, her breath hissed out of her lungs. Her body went limp as he moved, pressing in and out, changing up the rhythm and shifting his hips from side to side until it felt like every muscle and every cell inside her would break apart.
Her hunger for him raged like an angry beast. She grabbed for him, trailed her hands over him. Her legs held him tight inside her even as her heels dug into the back of his thighs. The lovemaking was sweaty and wild. They rolled over the sheets and knocked the pillows to the floor.
When she finally wrapped her arms around him and forced his body to plunge one last time into hers, everything inside her let go. She lifted her head to scream but the sound came out as a gasp. The orgasm raced through her and rattled her bones, bringing a wave of exhaustion right behind.
She stayed in a sprawl across the mattress. Her breathing, her heart, if anything still worked she didn’t know.
As the strength of the pulses died down to tiny blissful aftershocks, his shifting inside of her sped up. The thrusting moved the bed and the final push smacked the headboard against the wall. He moaned and whispered her name through it all and then collapsed on top of her.
With all movement stopped, quiet washed over them. She closed her eyes as she ran her fingertips across his shoulders. His weight on her felt good. Anchored her. She could sleep this way all night, and resigned to do just that.
She’d almost drifted off when he finally lifted his head and brushed her hair off her face. His sexy grin said he’d brought her to the edge just like he wanted.
He kissed her nose. “Hi.”
“Welcome home.”
More than an hour later Shay lay on her side and watched the minutes tick by on her alarm clock. The lovemaking had exhausted her, and Ford’s warm body pressed against her back lulled her into a state of relaxation, but her eyes refused to close. Every time she drifted off, the memory of her cousin and his disheveled appearance flickered through her brain.
Trent said he’d get back in touch with her. Two days had passed and she’d collected as much cash as she could and still be able to pay her bills . . . still, nothing. No word or check-in. She started to worry he was as unstable as she feared, and it bothered her that she’d failed to hold him there and get him help. He could be anywhere, doing anything, as the paranoia took hold.
Ford’s arms tightened around her waist. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
The words rumbled against the back of her head as he nuzzled her hair with his nose. Surrounded by him, she slid her legs, tucking them, and warmed her feet on his calves.
He brought her back tighter against his chest. “I’m serious, what’s up?”
Maybe it was the concern in his voice or the way his hand spanned her stomach, making her feel protected. Whatever the combination, the soft caresses and low voice, she didn’t pretend to be asleep. But she did try to ease his concern. “You expect me to doze off after that lovemaking session?”
“I can barely keep my eyes open. You wrung me out, woman.” He exhaled, blowing a breath into her hair.
“Blame yourself.” The one thing sure to block out her desperate memories of Trent was the memory of Ford’s touch. The way he ran his tongue over her and plunged into her. For a blissful hour he could make all the bad parts burn away.
He kissed her cheek. “You’re thinking instead of relaxing.”
“How can you tell?” She turned over because she wanted to see his face and run a finger over the sexy stubble on his cheek.
“Energy thrums through you. It’s weird but I can feel it.” His hand traveled over her bare stomach and stopped just under her breast. “This isn’t still about your uncle and his poking around, is it?”
The reminder shut down her brain. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay.”
The words hung there. Ford didn’t push or demand. He leaned up on an elbow and watched her. His hand rubbed circles on her skin. She welcomed the lack of pressure and let it lure her in.
“Something happened.” She dragged the back of her fingers over his collarbone, loving his hard body and every dip and muscle. In their rush to get into bed they had failed to turn on the light, but the sconce from the hallway made his skin glow and provided enough for her to make out his expressions.
“What?”
“Trent came to see me.”
“When?” Ford’s hand stopped moving and he pulled back. “Wait, he’s back in town?”
“I don’t think he ever left.” Letting her arm drop back on the bed next to her head, she looked at the ceiling, concentrating on the seams where the crown molding met in each corner. “He was crazed, Ford. Talking about people being after him and needing money.”
“He doesn’t have money?”
She looked at Ford again. Took in the furrowed brow and obvious concern. Sharing the news and her fears lifted a weight off her, but she knew she’d shifted some of it to him. “I don’t think Trent wants to touch his accounts. It was all so paranoid. Like, if he accessed his money he’d be tracked down.”
“This doesn’t sound like a love life problem.”
That part didn’t make any sense to her either. She needed to confront her uncle but she couldn’t do that until she understood what was happening with Trent and tried to help him. She got that he might not want to go to his dad and hear Anthony spout off about what a failure he was, but the dynamic between father and son only added confusion to an already complex situation.
Maybe Ford could help her make sense of it. “Trent had no idea what I was talking about when I told him about the love life thing. My uncle clearly lied to me about Charlottesville and the young woman.”
“Why?”
“Protecting Trent. Trying to keep me from worrying. Who knows.” She thought back to what Anthony’s assistant said and the concerns they’d shared. “My uncle seems to be running wild, like he’s desperate and losing control. I think the lies were part of that.”
“That’s nuts.”
One of the many crazy aspects of what seemed to be unraveling her usually somewhat stable family. “Something happened at work and he’s running.”
“Okay.” Ford rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Where is Trent now?”
“I don’t know. He said he’d contact me but he didn’t.” Just talked about it started that ball of anxiety in her stomach spinning again. “I collected as much cash as I could but—”
“Go back for a second.” Ford leaned across her, brushing his body against hers, and clicked on the light on the bedside table. “Why are you collecting money?”
“He needs it.”
Ford started shaking his head before she finished the sentence. “No. We need to get him help. It sounds like he’s had some sort of mental break. Giving him money so he can race around is not the answer.”
“I go back and forth. I thought if I could get him the money, then meet him and talk, this time without him attacking me—”
Ford sat up, taking the sheet with him. “What?”
“It was fine.” She made a grab for the edge of the covers, but he’d shoved them aside and now they were draped low on his hips and over hers. Being naked in front of him didn’t shake her. He’d seen her and she didn’t shy away from sharing her body with him. But she already felt exposed and vulnerable. The sheet gave her some shield, even if it was an illusion. His eyes burned with intensity. “What did he do to you?”
All of his anger centered on Trent. She got that, but seeing the burning fury, hearing Ford’s voice vibrate with anger, shocked her. Strangely, it also comforted her, because all that protectiveness was meant for her. Not in a suffocating way like
her uncle. In a way that told her Ford would keep her safe no matter what.
That comfort allowed her to spill the rest. “Trent lured me into one of the units and scared the crap out of me, but that’s just because I wasn’t expecting to see him.”
“The plumbing problem the other day. That was him?”
“Yes.”
Ford swore under his breath. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”
She shimmied until she sat up with her back resting against the pillows. His palm rested on her thigh and his shoulder touched hers. For all the crazy family stuff, Ford wasn’t running. That meant something.
“He was lost and scared, Ford. I’d never seen him that way and didn’t know what to do.”
“We’ll meet him. Together.”
Temptation pulled at her to accept the offer but she instinctively knew it wouldn’t work. “No, he’ll bolt.”
Ford’s expression tightened. “Shay . . .”
He was worried about her. It was sweet and caring, but misplaced. Trent had lost his way and some demon hounded him, but he would not hurt her. She had to believe that.
They were practically raised as siblings. She’d put her body in front of his when Anthony’s demands got to be too much. They had a bond. It strained as they got older, but she trusted it still existed. He wouldn’t have come to her otherwise.
She took Ford’s hand in hers. “You have to let me do this my way.”
His gaze traveled over her face. Whatever he saw must have changed his mind because the tension eased out of his shoulders and he exhaled in a way that said I’m going to regret this.
“Fine.” That’s all he said. One word.
She didn’t debate but she did reach over to kiss him. And ended up hugging air. He got up and slipped on his jeans, not bothering with underwear or the zipper.
Seeing him walk toward the door sent her heart on a hammering rampage in her chest. “Where are you going?”
Without turning around he held up a finger and kept moving. “I’ll be right back.”
His shadowed figure disappeared down the hallway. Minutes ticked by and she scooted to the edge of the bed with the abandoned sheet wrapped around her. She was just about to get up when the alarm chirped and footsteps echoed in the hall.
Playing Dirty Page 22