by Elle Kennedy
When she peered up and glimpsed the impatience glittering in his eyes, she cast him an innocent smile. “Something wrong?”
He grumbled. “What part of ‘your mouth, my dick’ didn’t you understand, sweetheart?”
Her smile turned coy. “You’re so bossy tonight.”
“You love it.”
He was right. She did love his bossiness, and truth was, she wasn’t in the mood to tease him tonight. She’d been on edge all evening, in need of a swift, explosive release to make her forget about the brick walls they kept hitting during this mission. And just because she happened to be damn skilled at interrogating suspects didn’t mean she enjoyed doing it. Times like these, when she was required to drag out someone’s pain, she found herself longing for her old line of work. In and out—find the target, eliminate him, disappear.
But she wasn’t a contract killer anymore, and most of the time she didn’t regret leaving her former boss Noelle to come to work for Morgan.
And she certainly didn’t regret her decision to open her heart to Kane.
Which made it very easy to open her mouth to Kane.
She took him deep, sucking all the way to the base and moaning as his familiar masculine flavor infused her taste buds. She licked her way back up to the tip and swirled her tongue around his crown, then gripped his shaft as she tightened the suction of her mouth.
“Christ. My favorite fucking thing, looking down and seeing your lips wrapped around me like that.” With a husky sound of contentment, Kane stroked her hair and rocked his hips into her face.
They’d been married long enough for her to know precisely when he was getting close. She felt it now in the telltale pulses of his cock against her tongue, in the way his balls drew up tight and his hips moved faster, and she wasn’t surprised when he suddenly yanked her to her feet. Eager hands tugged at her clothing as his mouth slanted over hers in a reckless kiss.
He had her naked in five seconds flat. Two seconds after that, she was sprawled on the bed while Kane seductively slid down her body. He spread her legs apart and hummed in approval when his hungry gaze fixed on her glistening folds.
“So fucking pretty,” he murmured, sweeping his thumb over her. “I’ve been dying to do this ever since we got to Cairo.”
She’d been dying for it too, but they’d been too busy chasing down leads and doing the job that the Cairo police and international task force couldn’t seem to do on their own. After days of searching for the ambassador’s son, this was the first time she and Kane were actually alone.
She moaned when his lips closed over her clit. He suckled gently, and her hips shot off the bed, making him chuckle. “Heaven . . . you taste like heaven.” He always mumbled the same thing whenever he tasted her. “It won’t take you long at all tonight, will it?” Kane kissed his way down to her opening, his tongue darting out to dip into the moisture pooled there. “You’re so wet. Sensitive as hell,” he added, when the softest flick of his thumb on her clit made her entire body jerk.
Abby shifted restlessly on the mattress. She was a bundle of nerves, ready to explode at the slightest provocation, and luckily her husband knew just what she needed. His mouth found that sensitive bud again, licking in fervor as he slid two fingers inside her and pumped them in time to the ministrations of his tongue.
She came with a soft cry, instinctively grabbing his hair to keep his head in place, but there was hardly anything to grab onto. He was wearing his hair shorter these days, a cropped cut that made it difficult to tug on the sandy-blond strands, but the short bristles did feel nice scratching her palms as she clung to him, trying to prolong the pleasure. It wasn’t enough, though. It was never enough until he was inside her. Completing her.
He knew that too, because he wasted no time crawling up her body and positioning himself between her thighs. He kissed her, nice and slow, his tongue entering her mouth with skillful precision. Whimpering, Abby twined her arms around his neck and rubbed her breasts against the wiry hairs on his chest. He groaned in response, then reached down and cupped one breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
His eyes twinkled when she gasped. “I’ve missed this,” he admitted. “Feeling you under me, hearing you gasp.”
“I’ve missed it too.” Her words sounded stilted to her ears. Not because she didn’t mean them, but because sharing her emotions still didn’t come easy for her. She loved Kane with all her heart, would go to hell and back for him, but she couldn’t erase the years she’d spent bottling up her feelings overnight.
“Put me inside you,” he said roughly.
Without a word, she slipped her hand between them and grasped his cock, guiding it into the place they both wanted it to be. He slid in, slowly, one inch at a time, pleasure darkening his gaze once he was fully inside her. Abby closed her eyes and rotated her hips, loving the way her muscles stretched to accommodate him, the way her core tingled with each full stroke.
“I spoke to Luke the other day.”
Her eyes popped open in disbelief. “Why the fuck are you talking about Luke right now?” Not that she had anything against their teammate, Luke Dubois, but did Kane really have to bring him up when he was buried inside her?
Her husband chuckled. “He asked me if sex ever gets boring after you’ve been together for a while. Seems he and Olivia are still screwing like bunnies, and he wanted to know if it’s normal.”
She had to grin. “What’d you tell him?”
He moved, ever so slightly, and her inner muscles bore down on him. They both groaned, Kane’s voice growing strained as he answered her. “I said the words boring sex don’t apply to us.” He swiftly withdrew, then slammed back in with a deep, hard thrust that made her cry out in delight. “I said it always feels like the first time. Always.”
“I know.” Her hands drifted down to his tight buttocks, squeezing hard. “Now stop talking and start fucking.”
His laughter tickled her face. “Yes, ma’am.” He lowered his head and kissed her as he started to move in earnest.
Each hurried thrust brought her closer to the brink again. She kept her eyes open this time, fascinated by Kane’s expression, fueled by it. His green eyes were hazy and gorgeous and hid absolutely nothing. Not his emotions, not his passion.
Seeing his raw need and naked pleasure was all it took to send her toppling over the edge. The orgasm seized her muscles and surged through her veins, leaving bursts of ecstasy in its wake as it traveled through her body. Kane’s mouth stayed glued to hers when he came, and she swallowed his moan of release, stroking his back as he shuddered inside her.
“Goddamn.” Sounding blissful and sated, he eased his muscular body lower so he could rest his head on her breasts. “Jeez. Your heart is pounding like crazy against my ear. You good, sweetheart?”
She sighed happily. “I’m more than good.”
Abby wasn’t sure how long they lay in that position, but she didn’t mind it one damn bit. It was rare for her to hold him—usually he rolled them over and spooned her—but she kind of liked having her big, macho husband draped over her like this, his warm breath heating her nipple. She petted his hair, more content than she’d ever been in her life.
Eventually Kane shifted so he wasn’t crushing her, sliding even lower and nestling his blond head against her belly. She listened to his even breathing, felt him drifting off, and the joy dancing inside her slowly faded into unease. Every soldier she’d ever known always slept with one eye open, and Kane was no exception, for the most part. But when it was just the two of them, he allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep, trusting her enough to do so.
The glaring evidence of his faith in her gnawed at her now, signaling the return of that unceasing flow of guilt.
Swallowing, she gently moved his head and wiggled out of his embrace. When he rumbled with discontent, she brushed her lips over his forehead in a reassur
ing kiss. “I need to use the bathroom,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
She left him on the bed and made a beeline for the private bath. She’d stashed her duffel there when they’d arrived, and her gaze instantly sought it out. Taking a breath, she knelt on the tiled floor and unzipped the black canvas bag. She rummaged around for her toiletry case. Unzipped that too.
A second later, she held a pink cardboard box in her hands. She stared at it. Read the exclamation-mark-riddled text.
Instant results!
Easy to use!
99% accurate!
Abby bit her lip. Shit. She couldn’t do this.
No, she didn’t want to do this.
It was so much easier to remain oblivious, to only worry about the hypothetical. She couldn’t be pregnant unless the test told her so, and if she didn’t take the test, then she could continue to live in ignorant bliss.
Gulping, she walked over to the sink and ran a small washcloth under the warm water, then cleaned herself up. They hadn’t used a condom tonight. She was on the pill, but a quick Google search had revealed that the stomach bug she’d caught six weeks ago could have decreased the effectiveness of it. She hadn’t realized she was so late until a couple weeks ago, when they’re returned from a job and she’d glanced at the calendar, shocked to discover she’d missed a period without even noticing.
But maybe stress was the culprit for her MIA period. That was a possibility, right? It didn’t mean she was knocked up.
Not the end of the word if you are. You’ll be a great mother.
Her breath hitched. God, it had been ages since she’d heard her adoptive father’s voice in her head. It had once served as her compass, her subconscious taking on Jeremy Thomas’s deep baritone whenever she was in a jam, voicing the advice she knew he’d dispense.
This time, she wasn’t sure she agreed with it.
A great mother?
How could that ever be true? She was a former assassin, a woman who’d once used her body as a weapon. And even if you could erase her past, her current line of work wasn’t exactly conducive to child rearing, either. She was a mercenary—and she liked it. She liked the missions, the danger, the adrenaline high. Isabel Roma, Abby’s closest friend, would probably quit her job in a heartbeat to have Trevor Callaghan’s kid, but Abby wasn’t Isabel. She wasn’t kind and warm and motherly.
She was ruthless and cold, without a single maternal bone in her body.
Her gaze traveled to the box she’d left on the porcelain toilet lid. After a beat, she grabbed the box and shoved it back in the duffel bag.
Not tonight. She couldn’t do it tonight.
It had taken her a long time to find a place where she felt like she truly belonged and a man she could truly connect to. She loved Kane, but she wasn’t ready for their life to change. She wasn’t ready to be a mother.
She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready.
Chapter Three
“Morning, kids. How we all doing?” Jim Morgan strode into Kane and Abby’s hotel room with a surprising amount of energy—and an honest-to-God spring in his step.
Kane couldn’t help but gape at his boss, and noticed Abby doing the same. After ten years of working for Morgan, Kane had reached several conclusions about the man: Jim Morgan was a moody bastard, he was lethal as hell, and you had better chance of winning the lottery than getting a smile out of the man.
But today he looked downright chipper. He was clad in his trademark cargo pants and white T-shirt, with a nine-millimeter Sig Sauer in one hand, a takeout coffee cup in the other, and a scarily out-of-character grin on his face.
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” At Morgan’s answering chuckle, Kane’s eyebrows soared to his forehead. “Seriously, what the hell are you so happy about?”
The other man shrugged before glancing at Abby. “I heard your former boss got in some trouble the other day. A target caught her tailing him and then shot up her car.”
A knowing glimmer entered Abby’s eyes. “Ah, now I get it. You’re tickled pink because Noelle was almost killed.”
Her remark earned them another shrug, but Kane knew his wife had hit the nail right on the head. Lord, he would kill to gain some insight about the turbulent history between Morgan and Noelle, the dangerous blonde known as the Queen of Assassins. Although Kane had seen them in the same room together on a handful of occasions, he still couldn’t figure out if they hated each other or wanted to fuck each other’s brains out. Or maybe a little bit of both.
That Morgan was this thrilled about Noelle being in danger should’ve revealed a lot, yet it did nothing to shed light on the mystery Kane had given up on solving. Whatever their past, neither Morgan nor Noelle seemed inclined to share it with their respective colleagues.
“Which means you’re probably going to kill me now,” Abby finished with a sigh.
Morgan frowned. “Why would I do that?”
Kane warily glanced at his wife, wondering what the hell she was up to. She hadn’t given him any indication this morning that she’d done something Morgan would disapprove of.
“Because I’m about to burst your happy little bubble,” she confessed to their boss. “I—”
“Don’t worry your gorgeous little head about it, Abby,” a female voice drawled from the doorway. “Jim is allergic to happiness. He would have reverted back to bleak and sulky even if you hadn’t gotten in touch with me.”
Morgan’s back snapped straight, as if someone had shoved a metal rod into it. His jaw went tighter than a drum as he glowered at the beautiful woman who strolled into the room like she owned it.
Kane gaped at the newcomer, completely thrown for a loop by her presence. As usual, Noelle wore all black, her long hair streaming down her back like a golden curtain and shimmering in the rays of sunlight peeking in through the window blinds. She truly was exquisite, and, he was ashamed to admit, even more terrifying than his wife. From what he could tell, the woman had no conscience, no qualms about snuffing out a life with whatever lethal tool she had available to her.
“Oh, and Jim?” Noelle said sweetly. “Did you ever think that maybe my target spotted me because I wanted him to?”
After a beat, Morgan cursed. “Of course you wanted it.”
She smiled. “Poor Jim. You were too busy picturing me dead that it didn’t even occur to you, huh? I thought you knew better than to underestimate me.”
“Trust me,” he muttered. “I never underestimate you, baby.” His blue eyes darkened. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I asked her to come,” Abby spoke up. “None of our other people are here, and we need the manpower. Noelle has also offered to tap a few of her informants and see if anyone knows where Nazara might be.”
Noelle smirked. “Feel free to thank me now. Or you can do it later, I suppose. But you will be showing me some gratitude, won’t you, Jim?”
A vein throbbed in Morgan’s forehead, conveying his precise feelings on Noelle’s unexpected presence. But Kane’s boss was also extremely shrewd and highly intelligent, and though he was a proud man, he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down assistance from someone who was an undeniable asset to the mission.
Without responding to the taunt, Morgan snapped back into business mode, gesturing to the files scattered on the tabletop. “Did you two find anything useful in the bank records?”
Kane shook his head. “No, but we did some digging into the locations Aswad gave us. A few of them look promising.” His peripheral vision caught Abby’s fingers absently tracing the edge of a photograph from one of the files. A shot of Kathy Aberdeen’s son. “What did you get from Nazara’s ex?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Morgan sounded displeased. He tucked his weapon in his waistband and took a quick sip of coffee, all without acknowledging Noelle. “Get your gear. We’ll split up and check out the potential safe houses. Kane
, you’re with me today.”
The order didn’t surprise him. He had a feeling Morgan would rather scour his own skin off than spend any quality time with Noelle, but that didn’t mean Kane liked the sudden change of assignment. He and Abby had been paired up together since they’d arrived in Cairo. They worked well together, and if he were being honest, he preferred being the one to watch her back. He trusted his teammates, of course, but once he and Abby had gotten married, her safety had become his responsibility and nobody else’s.
“We’ll cover the apartment near the Citadel,” Morgan told Kane in a brisk tone. “Abby and Noelle”—he said her name as if it carried the Ebola virus—“can check out the market one.”
“Sounds like a plan.” As Kane rose from his chair, he noticed Abby’s gaze remained focused on the picture. “Abby, you with us?”
Her head jerked up. “Sorry. What was that?”
“We’re heading to Islamic Cairo. You’re with Noelle.”
She nodded, and he hid his frown. The distracted look on her face troubled him. Come to think of it, she’d seemed distracted last night too. She’d gone quiet on him after the explosive sex, but he’d been too exhausted to dwell on it.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a careful tone.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She shoved the photographs into the file folder then stood up. “I’m going to grab my gear. I’ll meet you outside.”
She hurried off before he could say another word.
* * *
She’d forgotten how much she loved Cairo. The loud, busy city wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but Abby had always enjoyed her time there. She didn’t even mind covering herself up in the sweltering heat. Modesty was required from the women in Islamic Cairo, the walled historical section of the city, so she and Noelle had donned pants, boots, and long-sleeve shirts out of respect for the culture. The outfits did work to their advantage, though, concealing the various knives and guns hidden on their bodies.