Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3)

by Marissa Garner

  Finished with her calls, she strolled over to stand behind Dillon. He was so engrossed he didn’t even notice her until she laid her hand on his shoulder. Instantly, he clicked the information off the screen.

  “I’m not allowed to see?” she asked.

  “Plausible deniability, remember?”

  “Is that also why you didn’t talk to me about the Stevens accident?”

  Dillon’s expression turned grim. “You spoke to Wilson?”

  “Yes. He mentioned an ‘odd coincidence’ with the Stevens accident. Wilson said to ask you. So, is he talking about Carl Stevens?”

  “For the record, I wasn’t keeping anything from you. In fact, my boss suggested I ask you about the guy’s position at the plant. I just hadn’t brought it up yet.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t think an ‘odd coincidence’ would be more than I could handle, Dillon?”

  He had the good sense to look embarrassed. A little, at least. “I didn’t want to scare you with something unconfirmed.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Is it confirmed now?”

  “No. All I know is that a guy named Stevens was killed in a car accident on southbound I-5 on his way to work the night shift at Diablo Beach. The location isn’t far from where your incident occurred on the northbound side.”

  “Okay, that was Carl Stevens. He’s…he was…in the security department. I spoke to him when he was doing rounds but didn’t really know him. However, Carl and Charlie were good friends. Maybe we should ask Charlie about it.”

  “No,” Dillon said emphatically.

  Kat’s chest tightened. “Carl drove into an overpass pillar. Charlie told me that the autopsy showed no alcohol or drugs in his system.” Her heart pounded a little harder. “Do you think Carl lost control because his tires were shot out?”

  “Wilson didn’t mention that detail.”

  “What if they missed it?”

  * * *

  God, it was killing him to spend so much time in such close proximity to Kat. After two years of nothing, her nearness overloaded all his senses. He smelled every whiff of her delicate perfume, heard every sigh from her lush lips, and saw every flash of longing in her emerald eyes. It. Was. Killing. Him.

  “Relax, Dillon, I’m not mad at you.”

  “I didn’t think you were.”

  “Well, you’ve got that look.”

  He sighed. “What look?”

  “Tense. Stressed. Worried. Grim. Shall I go on? You need to lighten up.”

  Well, shit. “Tense” and “lighten up” were the way my week started. “We think someone is trying to sabotage a nuclear power plant, and someone is definitely after you. I’d say that justifies tense and worried. Lighten up hardly seems appropriate,” he said defensively.

  “You know what I mean. Being too tense can reduce your focus. And you know damn well that’s the look you always had when we first met. I thought I’d cured you before I…” Her voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat. “If you’ll stop working for fifteen minutes, I’ll give you a massage,” she said with a hint of mischief.

  Oh God, the “if you’ll” game. Dangerous territory. Caution required. “All right. Massage away.”

  “Take off your shirt,” she ordered.

  Oh shit. With a sense of foreboding, he pulled the T-shirt over his head and threw it on the futon.

  “Turn around, lean forward, and bow your head.”

  He did as instructed and actually tensed even more because he knew what was coming. When her soft fingertips settled on his shoulders and kneaded their way toward his neck, a groan escaped his lips. Memories flooded his mind as he gave himself over to the comforting sensations. To hell with caution.

  Kat was right. When they met, he’d been a tense, stressed out, and bitter man. Being unwanted and unloved did that to a person. He had locked away emotions and trust behind a stoic façade. If people couldn’t touch him emotionally, they couldn’t hurt him.

  Patiently, tenderly, Kat had changed him. Not only could she ease the physical tension in his body with her masterful massages, she also relieved the emotional stress in his soul with her heartfelt caring. Slowly, she’d found the man behind the façade and freed him. Unbelievably, she’d fallen in love with him. Something Dillon had never thought possible.

  Her slender fingers furrowed through the hair at his nape, climbing higher toward the top of his head with each stroke. He didn’t know if the head was officially a part of reflexology, but he knew that, when Kat caressed his scalp, other parts of his body noticed. One part in particular.

  Her hands moved to his shoulders again and kneaded firmly into the tight muscles. Then she made her way down his back, pressing and rubbing, identifying each cramped muscle and working until the knot relaxed and softened. Unfortunately, her efforts were having the opposite effect elsewhere.

  “How did you get this scar?” she asked, gently touching a small spot near his right shoulder blade.

  “Rock climbing in Yosemite last summer.”

  Suddenly, the reason Kat was being so meticulous to cover every inch of his back hit him. In the past two years, she must’ve forgotten the feel of him. Now she was memorizing it. She’d already talked about having to move, and he’d seen the packed boxes in her living room. Kat was doing this in preparation for leaving him again. Resentment settled in his gut.

  Well, if she wanted something to remember about him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it be his back.

  * * *

  Kat had closed her eyes as she memorized the ridges and bulges of the muscles in Dillon’s back. She loved the feel of him…beneath her fingers…on top of her…inside her…everywhere. Hopefully, in the future, she could close her eyes and pretend she was touching him or imagine he was making love to her. Those kinds of memories had gotten her through the past two years, and they would—

  Her musings were abruptly interrupted when Dillon grabbed her hands and yanked her around in front of him. He bracketed her hips and pulled her down to straddle his lap.

  Despite her ministrations, tension still seeped from every pore. However, the type had changed, and the superheated lust in his eyes told her exactly what kind of tension was boring into her.

  “I know what you’re doing,” he said almost like a threat. “If you’ll take off your clothes, I’ll give you something much better to remember me by.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, feigning innocence.

  “Oh yes, you do.” His hands held her in place while his hips pulsed upward three times causing the ridge of his rock-hard dick to rub in just the right spot.

  She gasped at the pleasurable sensation.

  “I’m going to give you the ride of your life, Katriona MacKenzie. Close your eyes.”

  She didn’t hesitate a second. She trusted Dillon with far more than her body so allowing him to give her the ride of her life was a no-brainer.

  First, he removed her blouse and bra. He used the bra to tie her hands together in front of her and the blouse to blindfold her. Then he set her on her feet and took off her jeans, panties, socks, and shoes. Each action was accentuated by the strategic touch of his fingers to her bare skin.

  Once she was naked, she heard Dillon disposing of the rest of his clothes and ripping two condom packets. The anticipation made her knees weak and her sex ache. The problems and drama of the past few days evaporated. Primal need reigned.

  Then silence set in. She couldn’t hear a sound other than the hum of the little refrigerator. “Dillon?”

  “Yeah.”

  She swallowed hard. “What are you doing?”

  “Admiring.”

  His fingers caressed her face and made a slow, sensuous trail down her neck, over her breasts, across her belly…and stopped. A few seconds passed before he touched spots on both sides of her stomach.

  “What happened here?” he asked.

  She stiffened. Oh God, the stretch marks from Skye. She gulped. Twice. “Odd, h
uh? I think I stretched too much.”

  “I didn’t know that was possible. I stretch tons before and after every workout and never had that happen. Of course, my skin is much tougher than yours.”

  When his lips tenderly kissed one mark and then the other, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d escaped the moment without actually lying.

  Dillon’s fingers continued their journey until they reached the V between her thighs. Her knees buckled when he stroked her hot, wet sex and plunged a finger inside her.

  He caught her with one arm. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said teasingly. Then he took her bound hands and placed them around his neck. “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, hoisting her up.

  As soon as she did, he aligned his dick, grasped her hips, and drove into her. She cried out, not in pain, but in relief to have him inside her.

  “Ride me, Katriona,” he ground out, revealing how good it felt to him also.

  As she raised and lowered herself on the hard shaft, he pumped his hips to push as deep into her as possible. In moments, pressure built, and she exploded.

  When her legs slipped down, she would’ve been clinging to his neck if Dillon hadn’t grabbed her bottom and held her up against him.

  He laughed. “Whoa, cowgirl. Don’t fall off the bucking bronco. Besides, your ride isn’t over.”

  “Dillon, I can’t—” she said breathlessly.

  “Yes, you can.” He started to walk, but the blindfold prevented her from seeing where he was going. On the way though, his lips closed around a nipple and sucked it into his hot mouth. Her back arched, and her legs wrapped around his waist again as desire zinged to her core. Lust reignited.

  He released her nipple and captured her mouth as the same time he rested her back against the cold, rough, concrete wall. His hot body pressed against her front, the smooth, slick skin and heat creating a strong contrast with the surface behind her.

  “I don’t want you to scratch your back. Hold still, cowgirl, and I’ll do all the work.”

  With his hands securing her in place, he pumped his hips, his dick filling her with each thrust. Immediately, her muscles coiled tighter and tighter, wanting another release.

  “Come, Dillon,” she pleaded.

  “No.” The sound was more of a grunt than a word.

  It didn’t matter. She was already cascading over the edge and nothing could stop the mind-blowing orgasm.

  Before she recovered, Dillon was on the move again. He dropped onto the futon with a solid thump. His dick still inside her, he scooted back on the lumpy mattress, lay down, and unhooked her hands from his neck. Gently, he pushed Kat upright.

  “Okay, cowgirl, last ride.”

  The word last grabbed her by the throat and wouldn’t let go. It threatened to strangle her. Did he mean her last climax today or the last time they’d ever make love? She didn’t really want to know so she didn’t ask. But she’d be damned before she let him go without his own release.

  “Untie me,” she said, holding out her hands.

  “Why?”

  “So I can keep my balance.”

  “Okay.”

  And she sure as hell wanted to watch him come so…“Blindfold off too, please.”

  “Fine.”

  She almost came apart when she opened her eyes. A gorgeous specimen of a man was stretched out beneath her. His muscles bulged, and his skin shone with a light coating of sweat. A shock of midnight hair was splayed across his forehead. Intense blue eyes framed by thick, black lashes gazed up at her with love and longing. Oh, please don’t let this be the last time. She burned the image into her memory, just in case.

  “Something wrong? Too tired to handle the stud, cowgirl?” he asked, a bad-boy smirk twisting his sculpted lips.

  “Not a chance, cowboy. Hang on tight.”

  Their gazes locked.

  She rode him slowly, sensuously, wiggling, circling with each rise and fall. She leaned forward and used her fingertips to tease his nipples and toy with his chest hair. Increasing the pace, she rode him hard, plunging from tip to base with each move.

  Their gazes never faltered.

  The lines around his mouth tightened, and his jaw clenched. He clutched the mattress.

  They continued to stare into each other’s eyes as though looking away might bring the finale.

  He murmured something. She thought he’d said, “Mine,” but she wasn’t sure.

  On the verge of another orgasm, she could hardly move up and down anymore. “Come,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  With his gaze still locked to hers, he grabbed her hips, held her still, and bucked once, twice. His mouth opened with a primal roar, followed by a strangled, “Katriona.”

  “My Dillon,” she whispered and collapsed on his chest.

  Chapter 20

  Kat didn’t know how long they’d lay there, but she thought they had dozed off because, by the time she could move, her backside was chilled. Even then, she was disappointed when Dillon spoke.

  “We should head back to the apartment and get ready to pick up your car,” he said.

  “Can’t we go straight from here?”

  “No. While you get dressed, I’ll change the plates on the truck.”

  “You have more alias plates.”

  “Yeah. These are from Arizona.”

  She frowned. Trying to keep up with his mental sprints was exhausting. “Why do you need to change them again? The Hummer and dark sedan have no idea about your man cave or apartment. Or who you are.”

  “I sure hope not. But I bet they know where your car is.”

  Reluctantly, she got up and searched for her bra and panties. “I don’t see how they could.”

  Dillon rolled off the futon and grabbed his boxer briefs. “They would expect your car to be impounded by the CHP. They’ve probably had eyes or a camera on the impound lot since Monday night.”

  “A camera?”

  “Yeah. That’s how they’ve been able to surveil your house without being seen. Remember Wednesday night when the Hummer came after us? Which also means they’ve seen me, even if they don’t know my identity.”

  “Makes sense. And I understand why they’d expect the CHP to have my car, but are you telling me they followed the tow truck from the impound lot to the tire store?”

  “Yep. You have to get your car back at some point, and I assure you, they’ll be waiting.”

  Clutching her underwear, she plopped onto the futon. Danger crept up her spine like icy fingers, and fear burned in her gut. “I c-can’t believe this is happening. Whoever Farook is working with is—”

  “Dead serious about stopping you,” Dillon finished for her.

  She drew a shaky breath. “How am I going to get my car?”

  “Trust me. I have a plan.”

  * * *

  Squashed into the tiny backseat of the double cab of his truck, Dillon craned his neck to watch Kat as she drove the unfamiliar vehicle. She hadn’t been thrilled with his plan for several reasons, the least of which was the doctor’s warning not to drive. Sitting ramrod straight and stiff as a mannequin, Kat kept her complete focus on the task of getting them safely to the tire shop. He would’ve loved to tease her about her über-careful driving, but her nerves were probably too strained to see any humor in it.

  Another of her objections to the plan had been the disguises. Granted, she looked ridiculous in his huge sweatshirt, which reached almost to her knees, but it achieved the goal of hiding any recognizable features of her figure. Getting all of her thick, brunette hair bunched under a knit ski cap had been a challenge. He wasn’t sure he approved of how the style exposed her delectable, slender neck. The oversized mirrored sunglasses hid her luminous green eyes and detracted attention from her high cheekbones and full lips. The disguise worked so well even people who knew her might not recognize her.

  His disguise was less complete. He wore a black mustache, a San Francisco Giants baseball cap, and fake glasses. He wasn’t as worried about his identi
ty because the jerks had been surveilling Kat, not him.

  “We’re here,” she said in a voice filled with relief.

  “Okay, pull around to the back like we discussed.”

  Once there, he pushed the backdoor open and crawled out, keeping low to hide behind the truck. “Go park where you’re fully visible. I’ll meet you inside.”

  He slipped in the rear door of the shop and watched through the large windows as she maneuvered the truck into a parking space where she could get out on the street side of the lot. Other than her stiff, self-conscious movements, she looked like a normal customer.

  When she entered the store, she exhaled a long breath as if she’d been holding it and then hurried to the counter to complete the paperwork to pick up her car. With the transaction completed, she met him by the rear door with the keys to the Civic.

  “It’s in space A seven, over there,” she pointed. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But if you’re right and they’re watching, they’ll follow you.”

  “Better me than you. I can lose them. In the meantime, what are you supposed to do?”

  She sighed. “I drive straight to your apartment. If you aren’t home in forty-five minutes, call Conrad at the FBI office.”

  “And?” he prompted.

  “If I’m followed, go straight to the Carlsbad police station instead and call you from inside.”

  “Good. You ready?” She shuddered, and Dillon pulled her into his arms. “You’ll be fine, Kat.”

  She buried her face against his neck. “It’s you I’m worried about, Shadow.”

  Warmth spread through his chest. “If you’ll stop worrying, I’ll give you a surprise later.” He felt her grin.

  “If I guess the surprise, may I have two?”

  “Sure. Now we gotta go. Just stay focused and you’ll be fine.”

  * * *