by Allie Adams
“Oh, no you don't.” He wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her back up. His dark, heavy-lidded eyes on her, he nudged her again. “Watch me.”
Her heart skipped. She'd never watched him feast on her before. The thought of seeing him devour her most intimate flesh excited the hell out of her. Tremors of anticipation shook her to her core. “What are you waiting for?”
“Goddamn I love this new side of you.” As emphasis, he extended his tongue and flicked her exposed clit. She jumped and cried out.
“Oh Jesus.”
He did it again.
“Ah!”
He pushed his fingers in. Out. In. Out. His fingers glistened with her juices. “Talk me through it. Tell me what you want me to do, baby.”
Feeling reckless, wanton, Kat threw her inhibition aside. She told him she wanted to try new things. Well, talking through making love definitely fell into that category.
“Use your tongue, Spence. Get rid of the thumb. I want your mouth.”
“Anything you want.” Removing his thumb from her swollen clit, he covered her moist flesh with his mouth. The feel of his tongue opening her to him made juices flood her pussy. Thrusting his tongue, he entered her, tasting her and drinking up her nectar.
An unyielding curl pulsed around her, tightening her, increasing her already rapid heartbeat. As he licked and teased, flicked and surrounded her clit with the warmth of his mouth and tongue, the tension mounted. So tight. So close.
Not once did they break eye contact.
It had to be the most erotic thing Kat had ever experienced. With each touch, each caress, her love and want for him intensified. He sank deeper into her and increased his momentum. Their eye contact grew stronger, if that was even possible, and the very air around them charged with excitement.
As Spencer relentlessly attacked her clit, she snapped and flexed her entire body, arching against him and throwing her head back. Screaming, she grabbed the couch cushion and held on to stop herself from melting right into the hard wood floors. Her orgasm had her panting, crying, begging for him to stop, and to keep going at the same time.
He licked as she came hard, his eagerness and hunger enough to drive her to new heights. “That's it, Kathryn. Come for me.”
“Oh yes!” she cried as he rapidly brushed his tongue over her clit, the feeling so intense she challenged him to keep contact by jumping around in a fit of unrestrained pleasure.
Her bones liquefied. Spencer sprang up and spun them around, pulling her onto his lap as he sat on the couch. Even then their gazes stayed with each other. Right now, in this moment, she knew she was his one and only focus. He stared at her, not even blinking. She had to be glowing in the aftermath as he lowered her down, sinking his cock deep inside her.
Kat screamed, the feeling of being filled by him driving her hard into another powerful orgasm. She lost control of her movement and closed her eyes. He thrust upward, his engorged cock slamming into her with such force it lifted her off the couch with each piston drive.
“Look at me. Please, baby. Watch me. Let me watch you.”
Forcing her eyes open, it took her a moment to focus on him. When their gazes met, his eyes so dark with lust they were almost black, she had no strength to pull away.
The love they made tonight was so much more than physical. Kat wanted to move faster and lose herself in the feeling of this tremendous rapture, but the glimmer in Spencer's eyes kept her at his pace. He seemed to want it prolonged, to last longer than anything they'd ever experienced, and her body responded by clenching him tight, pulling him in and never wanting to let go.
“Talk to me,” he rasped. “Do you feel me inside you?”
“Oh my God, yes.” She held his gaze, the connection so intense it had her feeling closer to him than she ever thought possible. This, right here, was what she'd always wanted from him. And now she had it. She had him. “More. Deeper. Faster.”
He hungrily nipped at her lips and made a slight growl. His movement quickened, and Kat followed. She rode him, matched his pace, then dared him to match hers as she moved faster. Her orgasm sizzled and teased her, but then he lifted his hips, slammed into her, and pulled them both off the couch.
Their orgasms crashed together, a feeling she'd never known possible. As if a single climax didn't have her crying out, sharing her orgasm with him, and him with her, held an intensity outside of this world. Kat dug her nails into him and he held her just as tight. He plunged deep into her so they could both ride their collective wave. And another. And another. The pulses kept rocking through their bodies, one after another. Only after they both collapsed from not only the physical drain, but emotional pull, did they finally slow.
She continued to hold him, her entire body quivering. He caressed her back and softly kissed her neck. Her breath tore at her lungs and until she was sure she wouldn't pass out, she kept a tight hold on him.
She swallowed to wet her throat. “That was amazing.”
“The look in your eyes when you come... My God, you are stunning. Incredible. I've never seen you like that.”
“That was a good idea, Spence, having us keep eye contact.” She'd never felt so close to him.
“I thought so.” Panting, he paused several moments, slowing his breath. “We'll have to do that again. Soon.”
“Absolutely.”
She nibbled his lips. “As much as I would love to stay like this with you, I'm hungry.” She shivered. “And cold.”
“There are ways to warm up and they don't involve clothes. Or food.” He bit her lips and then frowned when she eased off him, and walked into the kitchen. She grabbed her shirt, scooping up her bra on the way.
In defiance, she snapped on her bra and buttoned up her shirt. She couldn't go through another lovemaking episode like that, at least not for a while. The emotional impact still had her trembling from her head down to her curled toes.
“I want fish.” She finished dressing before pouring another glass of wine.
Reluctantly, Spencer stood and threw on his pants. He walked into the kitchen and stopped when he eyed her feet. “Hey!”
“What?” She looked down, only to spot the socks covering her feet. Uh oh.
“You told me to strip from the belly button down.”
“You never ordered the same.”
“I did, too.”
She shrugged and took a long sip of wine.
Narrowing his eyes, he gave her a crooked grin. “I'll get my payback, lady.”
“Promise?” She grinned at him, loving the playfulness in his eyes.
“Oh, you are so dirty. I love it.” He then pushed her out of the kitchen. “Make way for the cook.”
“Hey!”
He brought his index finger up and raised his handsome brow. “The last time you cooked for us it involved a microwave and frozen entrees, and it sucked. It's dangerous how little you know about the kitchen. Let me make dinner. You go put on some more music.”
“Anything in particular?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I suggest Michael Bublé.”
Knowing where that took them last time made her body tickle deliciously. But they really did need to eat if they expected to keep up their strength for the night she had in store for them. “How about some David Cook?”
He spiked his brow in confusion. “Who?”
“An American Idol.”
“Wasn't that Kelly something?”
“Kelly Clarkson. She was the winner of season one. David is season seven. I have a CD of him singing Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera. It'll make you cry. It's that good.”
“Will it make you dance like that again?”
“If you play your cards right.”
“Then you can play all the Dan Cook you want.”
“David Cook,” she corrected, knowing he did it on purpose. Spencer picked up on every little detail. “Or we could play some Phillip Phillips.”
“Now you're just making shit up.” He kissed her and
pushed her the rest of the way out of the kitchen, smacking her ass as she left. “Go find music, my love. Stay out of the kitchen.”
Her heart skipped painfully at the thought of him declaring anything close to love for her. Not wanting to analyze something as simple as words of endearment, she went to his radio and focused on locating the smooth jazz station they both favored when spending time together. “How is it you know so much about the kitchen, chef?”
He winked. “A good chef never kisses and tells.”
SEVENTEEN
“Why do we always plan our flash and grabs in the middle of the night?” McKoy grumbled as he shivered. “And in the middle of a fucking snowstorm? It's freezing out here.”
“Because darkness is our friend.” Spencer stared at the cabin through his NVDs, watching for any movement. This asshole really was a special kind of stupid to return to the scene of the crime. He had to know TREX had the cabin under surveillance.
“It's the element of surprise,” Snyder walked over and stood next to McKoy. “If you'd get your ass up off that rock so it doesn't rob you of your body heat, probie, you wouldn't be so damn cold.”
McKoy jumped to his feet. When Snyder laughed at him, McKoy glared. “Kiss my ass.”
“But it's covered with snow now. How about I kick your ass instead?”
“Try it.”
With lightning fast reflexes, Snyder had McKoy face down on the ground in the snow, a knee digging into the back of his neck. Snyder then removed his glove and proceeded to lick his finger and stick it in McKoy's ear. “Any other requests?”
“Goddamn it, Snyder!”
“Enough,” Spencer barked. He already had enough going on in his head without his team jabbing each other and annoying the shit out of him.
“I think you all should try meditation,” Cummings offered. “It's very soothing on the nerves.”
“So is this.” Aims threw a punch, hitting Cummings in the arm. Cummings returned the gesture, which got them both started on beating the shit out of each other.
Lyons stormed over to them and grabbed them both by the collars of their black turtlenecks. “He said enough.”
The team was getting punchy. They'd been holding at this location in the freezing-ass cold for too long. Their subject was in there, waiting. Since Damon Salazar refused to admit he knew anything more than what he blurted out at the Miller search, TREX put him under surveillance. If they didn't find anything at the cabin, they'd definitely find something following the bastard.
Who knew the dumb son of a bitch would make it this easy on them?
“What happened to the kid being your last find?” Aims asked as he straightened his collar.
“Technically, that find isn't over. We found Tommy. We found dead kidnappers. But what we didn't find was the man behind it all.” Lyons shot a quick look to Spencer.
“Which is why we're here,” Spencer added. “Salazar has been holed up in the cabin for the past four hours. The Millers have cut him off. He has nowhere to go.”
“He's meeting someone,” Lyons concluded. Spencer nodded.
Snyder leaned up against a tree and kept watch on the cabin. “Are we sure the intel is solid on this? We know he's meeting someone?”
Spencer had no reason to believe otherwise. Still, this seemed…off. Salazar had been pacing inside the cabin for hours. Where was the party?
He pulled out his phone and dialed Weber.
“What?” Weber didn't sound happy.
“Still no sign of anyone but Salazar in the cabin.”
“He's not alone.”
“He didn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed. Maybe he just came up here to be alone.”
“Maybe,” Weber agreed but didn't sound convinced. “I still think there's someone else calling the shots. Salazar is a fucking sleazebag who doesn't deserve to be breathing. He's also a loose end that needs to be tied up. As soon as his guest arrives and takes him out, you move in. Try to keep the guy alive. We need answers.”
Spencer turned his back to his team and stared at the cabin. “This is bigger than Tommy Miller.”
“And we need to find out how much bigger. Martin Miller is keeping something from me, which I don't much appreciate. Until I can find out what, we go at this our way. Salazar either really doesn't know shit, or he can take one hell of an interrogation. He never broke, not even when Gessler started to cut off the man's ear.”
“Maybe you should have let him.”
Weber chuckled but there was no humor in the tone. “Gessler would have ended up killing him. Besides, in my experience I've found that informants are much more likely to cooperate if we don't cut them into little pieces.”
Spencer glanced at the dark cabin. Why pace in the dark? What was Salazar really doing up here? That bad feeling gnawing at him edged higher. “I don't like this. Salazar has been in there too long for him to not light any lanterns. Not start a fire for heat. Nothing. He just paces.”
“Like he's waiting for something.”
“Exactly.”
“What's your gut say?” Weber's voice, intense, filled with angst, caught in Spencer's ears. His SAC was worried. That didn't make him feel any better about the situation.
“He's waiting for something to happen.”
“You don't think it would have already happened by now?”
“I don't know.” And that bugged the shit out of him.
“Give it one more hour. We need this lead, Allen. If we didn't, I'd have you move in and just put a bullet between Salazar's eyes, and get it over with. One hour, then disappear. If nothing happens, I don't want Salazar knowing you were ever up there.”
“Yes, sir.” Spencer ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket before he called Kathryn. He knew how she worried about him when he got called out on a find, especially after midnight. Unfortunately, on a human find, TREX worked on a subject's time, not TREX's. Spencer would have rather stayed in his bed, tucked up against Kathryn's warm body, holding her against him. Even in sleep he had the undeniable instinct to protect her and keep her close.
He rested a gloved hand over the pocket that held his phone, wondering if he should at least text her. No, she'd only text back and they'd end up chatting that way.
And then he'd be distracted, just as Weber accused him to be.
Thank God he had that state-of-the-art security system that fed into TREX's HQ installed last year. He usually had it disarmed. Having his agency monitor his every move irritated the shit out of him. But now, with Kathryn alone, it relieved him knowing his entire agency had its eye on her. He couldn't ask for a better security system. She knew nothing about it, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. At least she'd be safe alone at his house with the system enabled.
“What's the plan?” Lyons asked.
“We stay hidden for one more hour. If Salazar doesn't get any visitors, we disappear.”
“Are you shitting me?” McKoy dropped his jaw. “That's it? We've been out here freezing our asses off just to turn around and leave?”
Lyons shook his head and went to stand next to Spencer. “Where the hell are they getting these probies?”
Spencer nodded in agreement. The team fell silent as they all stared at the cabin, waiting for something to happen. The snow slowed to only a few lazy flakes here and there, which made it easier to see off into the distance without the help of the NVDs. The clouds even lightened and the moon poked out, its silver light oozing over the cabin and the surrounding area. The frozen night sank in, chilling him to the bone. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he shuddered.
He casually glanced over his shoulder, tracing the hills around them. Keeping his movement fluid, careful to not convey the sudden sense of urgency he had pulsing through him, he nodded for McKoy to join him.
“Sorry about the comment, sir.” McKoy dropped his gaze.
Spencer turned to keep his back to the woods behind him. He still didn't know what, exactly, had him suddenly so suspic
ious of the space behind him, but he was. Damn how he was. “You trained as a sniper at Gahanna, right?”
McKoy jerked his head up as his expression brightened. “Yes, sir.”
Lyons studied Spencer's face and then jumped his attention to the hilly woods behind them. “What are you thinking?”
“Tell me how many vantage points you see,” he said to McKoy. “How many different places can you spot for a sniper to stay perfectly hidden from us, but see everything we do?”
McKoy immediately turned and made it obvious as he studied the hill. “Uh…”
“Goddamn it, McKoy.” Spencer grabbed the probie and forced him back around. “Next time try not to advertise it.”
“Yes, sir. I was just—”
A single gunshot cut him off and sent him flying back. He landed against a tree and slowly slid down, leaving a streak of blood on the trunk.
“Fuck! Down!”
The team dropped just as another shot rang out, slamming into a tree and raining bark on them. If he didn't get his team out of there, they'd be picked off one-by-one. They had no cover.
He whispered into his mic, “On my mark, you all get your asses out of this opening. Scatter.” Spencer pulled up his M16 and sent out cover fire and the team all moved. More shots from above came down on them, but luckily they all got out of there.
All but the youngest member of TREX Team Two. Logan McKoy sat slumped over, the snow around him crimson. Jesus Christ. He was just a kid.
“Your turn,” Lyons said over the radio. “Get your ass out of there. I'll cover.”
The second Lyons's cover fire started, Spencer crouched low and ran toward a tree large enough to shield him. Another shot sounded and the cover fire immediately silenced.
Spencer stiffened and touched his mic. “Lyons?”
No answer.
“Lyons?” he asked with more urgency.
The wait drove him insane with worry. After several tense seconds and no other fire from the sniper, he picked up a rock and threw it at a bush, causing it to rustle. Still, no fire.
His gun at the ready, he inched over to where he watched Lyons disappear to. He'd have to pass through the opening to get to him. If the sniper was still up there, the minute Spencer showed himself, he'd be taken out.