HOT Angel_Hostile Operations Team_Book 12

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Cade: ?? That’s a departure. But sure, I’ll bite. No, I would not offer you chicken soup. Or a back rub, because what I’d really be saying is I hoped you’d have sex with me if I rubbed your back. Is there a reason you’re asking me this?

  Brooke frowned. And then she thought, why not? Cade made her comfortable, even if it was only through text, and he didn’t seem like a creep. His answer to her question was insightful. Of course she thought Scott was trying to initiate sex, but she’d felt guilty for thinking it because he’d never pushed her before and maybe he really did want to be helpful with the back rub offer.

  I have a neighbor. We went out a couple of times. But there’s no spark or sizzle. I keep turning down his invitations, but he won’t take no for an answer. And sometimes I find myself saying yes just to end the conversation. So he wanted me to come for drinks last night and I said I’d think about it. But then he took it like I said yes and started making plans.

  She took a deep breath and hit Send. Then she kept typing. I texted later and told him I wasn’t feeling well and wanted a rain check. So he immediately called me, but I didn’t answer. And now he’s texting again. I feel like a bitch for not answering his calls, but then I also feel like he just isn’t taking the hint. It’s frustrating.

  It took a few moments for his reply to return. Have you told him in no uncertain terms that you aren’t interested?

  Brooke blinked. Had she actually said those words? I guess not. I should, shouldn’t I?

  Cade: You should. But Brooke, any guy who doesn’t take no for an answer even to simple invitations, who keeps trying to make it into something more, and who calls and wants to give you back rubs, isn’t entirely blameless. He knows what he’s doing. And until you tell him it’s not happening in direct terms, he’s going to keep trying. And maybe even after that.

  That’s what she was afraid of. Would you take no for an answer? If I told you I didn’t want to hear from you anymore, would you accept that?

  Cade: As much as it would pain me, yeah, I would. Though I’d probably drunk text you a time or two and ask why. He added a winky face.

  I like you, Cade Rodgers with a D. You make me laugh.

  He also made her horny, but she wasn’t telling him that. Yet.

  I like you too, Brooke Sullivan with an E. You make me something too. Not saying what though.

  Brooke laughed again, then laughed even harder when he sent a picture of a devil with horns. Oh what the hell? She sent it back with a simple Me too.

  Cade: Maybe we can do something about that together. But only when you’re ready.

  You mean via text, right?

  Cade: I mean however in the hell I can get you naked and pleasured. If it’s via text, then so be it. But I think I can do a better job of it in person.

  Let’s start with text. See what happens.

  Cade: Tonight? Bedtime?

  Brooke’s heart hammered as she typed out a reply. It’s a date.

  Chapter 5

  Cade drew his Glock and emptied the magazine into the targets that kept popping up as he traversed the course. When he was done, he holstered the weapon and walked back to the shooting bench. Brass casings littered the floor and the smell of gunpowder saturated the air. His team was cycling through the course one by one. Since he’d finished, he walked outside the range and pulled off the ear protection he’d been wearing. Then he took his phone from his pocket—the range wasn’t inside a forbidden zone—and grinned when he saw the message from Brooke.

  She’d sent him a selfie of her and Max. The main man in my life. Sorry, Cade. I’m only using you for sex.

  He typed back, Yeah, but I’m totally cool with being your sex toy. He included an eggplant for good measure.

  He rubbed a spot on his forehead and thought about the past week. He was dating a woman via text. A woman he’d spoken to only twice. He was also having sex with her, though it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it would have been in person.

  Not that he minded jerking off to pictures of her tits in tiny tank tops or photos of her hand beneath her booty shorts. She’d never sent him a nudie pic, and he hadn’t asked, but the ones she sent were probably more erotic.

  She was unidentifiable, of course, and he approved of that. He sent pics to her as well, adhering to the standards she’d set. His abs, artfully wet from the shower. Hipbones—for some reason, women loved his hipbones. His happy trail. The bulge in his boxers.

  She sent back emojis of tongues and water drops and hands, and all of it made him hotter than fuck. Jerking off with the emojis and dirty words flying wasn’t a problem in the least.

  Except that he wanted more. Much more. He knew he couldn’t push her though. Each time he playfully mentioned taking it to the next level by including voices, she balked. And if she balked at that, she damn sure wasn’t going to accept his physical presence.

  It was definitely a problem, but one he told himself he was going to be patient over. Because he liked texting with her, even aside from the sex. Brooke was funny and interesting. He’d learned a lot about her in the past week.

  She was born in California. She and Grace met in college and became besties. She’d taken a job in DC with a private think tank, transitioned into the political scene where she’d been a congressional staffer for a while, then left it all to open her bakery. She’d been doing really well, but then she’d been kidnapped and everything changed. She’d sold the business when it was clear she wasn’t going to be able to keep up with it and gone into private consulting.

  Brooke had an older brother and sister, and her parents were still married. Her childhood had been happy, she’d been popular in school, and life had been rosy. Which, to his mind, explained why she’d taken what had happened to her so hard. She wasn’t accustomed to violence. She knew it existed, but she’d never experienced it. Until she had, which had traumatized her.

  Brooke: When do you get home from work, sex toy? I’m [devil with horns] just thinking about your [eggplant].

  Cade’s balls tightened. In a couple of hours. Stop making me hard, angel. I’m at work and the guys don’t like it.

  She sent back the laughing with tears emoji. Sorry. I’ll behave.

  He sent her the hand emoji and a peach. You want a spanking, bad girl?

  She returned water drops. A row of them. Cade thought his head would explode. This girl was killing him.

  You like to be spanked? I wouldn’t have guessed.

  Brooke: Haven’t tried it, but it kinda sounds erotic. Especially with your hard [eggplant] in my [cat].

  Jesus, he was turning to stone. Serious stone. He wanted to fuck her so badly—in person, dammit. He wanted to touch her soft skin, kiss her, reveal her secrets to his gaze. He wanted to make her come while screaming his name.

  Just so you know, he began, I’m going to wear you down until we do all this for real. As long as it takes, angel. Because one of these days, I’m going to watch your face as you come and I’m gonna know it’s my cock making it happen because it’s gonna be deep inside you.

  He waited for the reply. The longer it took, the more he thought he might have gone too far. But then she answered.

  I want that too. One day…

  * * *

  Brooke set her phone down and looked at Max, who was lying beside her desk. He’d been watching her with his sweet doggie eyes since she’d sort of whimpered at the last thing Cade had said.

  God, sex. It had been so long. What would it be like to experience it again? With him? Would it be as good as her imagination made it every time they sexted? Or would he be one of those guys who only thought he knew what he was doing but in reality had no clue?

  “Can you fall for a guy via text, Max?”

  Because she really, really liked Cade Rodgers. Maybe he was nothing like what he seemed in their conversations, but she certainly hoped that wasn’t so. He was serious and funny and sexy. He listened to her fears and then he had answers. Maybe not answers to fix it, but answers nonetheless.
He didn’t push her away or tell her to stop being silly or to get over it.

  He asked questions. He spent hours texting with her. He was the first person she chatted with every morning and the last every night. And yes, she was beginning to long for more. Like hearing his voice. Maybe it was time to take that step.

  But then she panicked, because what if they started talking for real and she didn’t like him as much?

  So every time she thought about telling him she wanted him to call her, she instead imagined all the ways it could go wrong—and then she pushed away the idea until the next day.

  At which point she went through the whole damned cycle again.

  Max tilted his head at the sound of her voice. She reached down and ruffled his fur, her fingers sliding through the soft silky mass.

  “I definitely think you can,” she told the dog. “I think you can fall for an idea that way, and I’ve certainly fallen for the idea of Cade Rodgers. Reality, however, is probably vastly different. No man can be so wonderful, right?”

  Max predictably had no reply. Brooke sighed. “Back to work for a bit and then we’ll do your w-a-l-k.”

  Max’s tail thumped. She swore he was learning to spell.

  Brooke spent another hour going over client accounts, writing marketing proposals, and trying not to think too much about texting Cade. When her phone rang, she was so deep into her thoughts that she shrieked a little. Quietly, but still.

  It was the front desk in the lobby. “Brooke Sullivan,” she said crisply.

  “Miss Sullivan, you have a delivery. Signature required.”

  Brooke frowned. Since she didn’t trust anyone, she told the man she’d be down to sign for it. Last thing she wanted was a delivery person at her door. She slipped on her shoes and headed down.

  A courier with a package stood there, looking impatient. “You Brooke Sullivan?”

  “Yes.”

  “ID?”

  She produced her driver’s license. The man handed her an electronic screen to sign and then gave her a box. She could tell by the sender name that the box contained samples she’d ordered for the fertility clinic marketing campaign. She refrained from rolling her eyes at the fact they’d wanted a signature and headed back upstairs.

  When she stepped out of the elevator, Scott was in front of her door and Max was barking inside her condo. Scott was holding a bag. She would have darted back inside the elevator, but he saw her walk out. Inwardly, she groaned. Outwardly, she pasted on a smile. She hadn’t seen him all week, but she’d texted him and told him plainly that she wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship with him.

  She’d gotten an auto-response that said he was traveling and would get back to her later. That night, he’d sent a brief Okay. Thanks.

  So seeing him now was awkward, but not as awkward as it would have been if she hadn’t finally been truthful with him. He glanced at the package in her hand and then back to her face.

  “Hi, Scott. Did you have a good trip?”

  He shrugged. “It was all right. I don’t particularly like traveling.”

  She couldn’t imagine. She’d always liked traveling—at least until two years ago when she’d started having trouble forcing herself to leave the house.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  He hefted the bag. “I was just returning the books you loaned me.”

  She took the bag from his hand. Inside were three books. Self-help books. When she’d first met him and he hadn’t seemed to be hitting on her, she’d brought them to him when he’d complained about some things at work.

  “I hope they helped.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I might need them again, but not right now.”

  She waited for him to move out of the way, but he didn’t. Her heart tripped a little faster. Being five-four and a hundred and twenty pounds didn’t inspire confidence when facing a much bigger man. If he wanted to dominate you, he could. Even a tall, thin guy like Scott could overpower her easily.

  She’d taken a self-defense class in the hopes it would make her feel better, but she cringed at the idea of using some of those techniques on a person. Though she would if she had to.

  “I should really take Max out,” she said.

  Scott stepped out of the way. “Of course.” But he looked so gloomy that her heart slowed and sympathy kicked in.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way,” she said. “I didn’t mean to.”

  He seemed surprised for a second. “I thought we had something special. You told me about the abduction, and I’ve never tried to push you to do anything you weren’t ready to do. I don’t know what I could have done differently.”

  Brooke wrestled with herself. Yes, she had told him she’d been abducted by some bad guys—but she hadn’t told him what had happened or why. She’d told him the story in a particularly weak moment when he’d tried to make a move on her after they’d had dinner together one night. She’d used it as her reason for wanting to go slow, and he’d said he understood.

  “I appreciate that you were patient. I really do. But I’m not the right person for you, Scott. You want a woman who can’t wait to see you, who lights up when you walk into a room. That’s not me.”

  “You don’t know that. We never got beyond a couple of boring kisses to find out.”

  Brooke had an urge to punch him. But she told herself he was hurting and lashing out. “I don’t think sex would change anything. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Max really needs to get out.”

  Scott stomped down the hall and slammed his door as Brooke slipped inside her condo. Max whirled happily. Brooke leaned against the door and pulled in a few deep breaths. The confrontation hadn’t been ugly, but it hadn’t been pleasant either.

  Max barked again sharply. “All right, all right.” Brooke set the books and package on the entry table and took his leash off the hook by the door. “Let’s go see what kind of sexy doggy ladies are waiting for you.”

  Brooke took Max to the park and spent time letting him run and play. There were some neighbors there with dogs that Max knew, so they all had fun running together. Brooke made polite small talk with the owners but kept her distance if at all possible.

  After they’d been outside for about an hour, Brooke called Max over. He came obediently, and she praised him while she clipped on his leash so they could go home again. The sun was sinking in the sky, but it was still an hour or so until sunset.

  Her phone rang. It was Grace.

  “What’s up, preggo?” Brooke asked.

  Grace laughed. “Haven’t heard from you in a few days. Just checking in.”

  Brooke bit her lip. Grace hadn’t heard from her, other than a few texts here and there, because she’d been so busy texting with Cade. Not that she planned to tell Grace that. Her friend had already said that she didn’t think Brooke could tolerate a relationship with a man like Cade. No need to go down that highway since it wasn’t exactly a relationship.

  Then what is it?

  Brooke cleared her throat. “I’ve had a lot of work. Proposals and stuff. I got a fertility clinic this week. I’ve had to source sperm pens and cute little sperm stress balls.”

  “Sounds exciting. And a little bit naughty.”

  “I don’t know about that. But it’s been interesting. How have you been? Garrett back yet?”

  Grace sighed. “No. He’s been gone a little over a week. It could be another two or three weeks.”

  She hadn’t thought about Cade going away yet, but she knew he would. And she’d be lonely without his texts. What would she do without talking to him every night? For the first time, she started to think about that. And she didn’t like the way it made her feel.

  “But you’re okay?”

  “Yes. Fine. Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight. Have dinner. Watch a movie. You can bring Max.”

  She thought about it for a few seconds. And then, because she didn’t want to have to explain why she didn’t want to sit up and chat
half the night but instead wanted to go to bed with her phone and her vibrator, Brooke told her best friend a tiny white lie. “I can’t tonight. I have to work on the sperm account. I have a deadline to meet for a trade show.”

  Grace sighed. “Okay, I understand. It was short notice anyway. Maybe another night this week?”

  “Definitely. Let’s plan it.”

  They talked until Brooke reached her building and then they hung up with a promise to talk again tomorrow and make plans for their girls’ night. Brooke waved to Bert, who was on the phone, and took Max into the elevator. When the doors opened on her floor, a man was striding toward the elevator. Max started to growl and the man stopped.

  He wasn’t tall, though he was taller than she was—not that that was saying much—and dark-haired. He wore jeans and a dark jacket with a button-down shirt. Dark eyes glared at her and Max, and she found herself tightening her hold on the leash as Max’s hackles lifted and he continued to growl.

  But then the man smiled. “I am so sorry. I have spooked your dog.”

  He spoke with the slightest hint of an accent. She couldn’t say from where, but she decided the language was Spanish.

  “If you step back a few feet, I’ll get him off the elevator so you can enter.”

  “Yes, that would be kind of you.” He backed away and Brooke led Max out of the car. He didn’t stop growling, but it was a low growl instead of an imminent attack growl. Brooke kept him on a tight leash as she pressed them toward the opposite wall from the man.

  The man saluted her when she passed. “Thank you, lady.” His jacket slipped open and she thought she caught the hint of a shoulder holster. But then he was inside the elevator and the doors were closing. He didn’t take his eyes off her though and she shivered. The second the doors shut, relief flooded her.

  Max had stopped growling and he looked up at her with liquid eyes.

  “Good boy,” she said, ruffling his fur. She didn’t know why Max hadn’t liked the guy and she didn’t care. That man had given her the creeps.