by Pamela Clare
Helvete! Damn!
She reached for it.
He angled his upper body away from her and held it out of her reach. “Hold on. I’ve got a right to check out my competition. Are you blushing? You are.”
She pressed her palms to her cheeks. “I don’t blush.”
He leaned in, still holding the vibrator out of reach. “The hell you don’t. Look—your cheeks are all pink.”
She lunged and tried again to grab it from him, torn between amusement and irritation. “Give that to me!”
“You want it, bella?” He grinned, took a step back. “You’re going to have to let me use it on you.”
She gaped at him, heat suffusing her face—and other parts of her body. “Fine. On one condition.”
“Sure.” He grinned, so sure of himself, so smug. “What’s that?”
“I get to use it on you, too.” The look of shock on his face made her laugh. “What’s the matter? Is the big, bad special operator afraid of a little sex toy?”
His eyes narrowed. “You got a deal.”
She hadn’t expected that.
Next time he was here, she would hide the damned thing.
He grinned again. “You didn’t think I’d call your bluff, did you? Now get on into the bedroom—and get naked.”
She walked to her bedroom, anticipation beginning to build despite her embarrassment, Javier one step behind her. She’d never imagined doing something like this, but then Javier had always managed to surprise her. She undressed, dropping her clothes on the floor. “Not sure why I bothered to put clothes on at all today.”
“You complaining?”
“Absolutely not.” She looked over her shoulder at him, then crawled onto the bed, teasing him with a view of her from behind. “Maybe I should just stay naked.”
“I like that idea.” He nodded, his gaze fixed right where she knew it would be.
She sat facing him and reached for the vibrator. “I’ll show you how to use it.”
“No, I got this.” Javier turned both switches on, activating both the vibration and the rotating steel balls. He ran a finger down the translucent blue shaft. “The dick part with the rotating balls goes inside you, while the part that looks like a bunny with long ears vibrates against your clit.”
Okay, so he had figured it out.
“Don’t look surprised. I know how to operate some very tricky weapons systems. I can even fly a helo if I have to. This”—he held it up—“is easy.”
Laura lay back on her pillows, expecting him to put the vibrator to work between her legs, but he didn’t. Instead, he brought it up to her neck, running the little buzzing rabbit ears along the tender skin there. It certainly wasn’t what she was used to doing with it, but it felt good. She turned her head to give him better access, the delicate sensation raising bumps on her skin.
He traced a line down her neck, across her clavicle, and down to her breastbone, amused curiosity mingling with desire on his face. He was having fun with this.
Laura felt her nipples tighten and wondered what the vibrations would feel like there. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. He made circles around one breast and then the other, tickling the sensitive undersides before touching it to her aching nipples.
She gasped, her eyes drifting shut as frissons of arousal skittered through her. The jelly texture tugged at her skin more than his tongue did, the heightened friction and the vibrations creating an intense new sensation. She felt herself grow wet, sexual need flaring to life inside her.
But he was just getting started.
He bent down and began to use the vibrator in tandem with his tongue, suckling her nipples, then rubbing the vibrating shaft over the wetness he’d left behind.
Laura arched her back and reached her arms above her head to give him unimpeded access to her breasts, the vibrations seeming to settle deep in her belly. He switched from one breast to the other until she thought she might go out of her mind. By the time he finally nudged her thighs apart, she was on the brink.
He touched the shaft of the vibrator to her clit.
“Oh!” Her hips jerked, the sensation almost too much.
He eased off, stroked her lightly, the vibrations like a thousand flicks of a feather, his lips scattering kisses across her sensitive inner thighs. “Like this?”
“Yes.” She was certain nothing could possibly feel better.
He proved her wrong, penetrating her with his fingers, taking her with slick thrusts, heightening her pleasure even further.
She cried out, dug her nails into the comforter, fought to hang on.
“Mmm.” He kissed her inner thigh again. “You are so wet.”
Oh, how she wanted him inside her!
Not the vibrator—Javier.
But some part of her held back. “Please, Javi. Now.”
He chuckled, withdrew his fingers, nudged the vibrator inside her inch by slow, unbearable inch—and turned it on high.
* * *
JAVIER WATCHED, SO turned on by Laura’s erotic responses that he thought his balls might burst. He slid the shaft in to the hilt, felt the friction of her inner muscles, then slowly withdrew it, those same muscles gripping it tight. He thrust it inside her again, imagining that the vibrator was his cock as he slowly built a rhythm, his gaze fixed on the most private part of her body as he gave her what she craved.
God, how he wished he were inside her now. He was a hell of a lot harder than this made-in-China plastic dick—that much was a fact. But he wouldn’t push her.
It was enough to know that he was pleasing her. And he was pleasing her. She was lost now, her legs wide apart, her eyes squeezed shut, an expression of sensual abandon on her face.
But he wasn’t done—not by a long shot.
On the next thrust, he slid the toy into its intended position, the little bunny ears resting on either side of her swollen clit. Her hips jerked off the bed, a stream of breathy “ohgods” spilling from her lips, her hands clenched into fists.
Oh, yeah, his balls were going to blow.
She was slippery wet now, the musky scent of her arousal driving him loco. He needed another taste. He lowered his head and began to flick the tip of her clit with his tongue, keeping up the in-and-out rhythm of the shaft.
She was close to orgasm now, all whimpers and moans, her head tossing from side to side, her muscles drawing tighter around the vibrator. Then her breath caught, bliss on her sweet face as she came, her inner muscles clenching so hard around the vibrator’s shaft that it jerked in his hand.
¡Coño! Hell!
Lucky damned toy.
He kept up the rhythm until her climax had passed, then turned the gadget off and set it aside, teasing her with light strokes of his tongue, savoring the moment, giving her time to recover. “That was eight.”
Eyes closed, she lay still, lost in the aftermath of what had clearly been an intense orgasm. Slowly she stirred to life. Her eyes opened, and she smiled at him, speaking in a soft, sexy voice. “Your turn.”
“I’m not sure how you think this is going to work. This is a toy for las chicas. It looks like a dick, for God’s sake.”
But he’d been raised to keep his word. He duly shucked his clothes, then climbed onto the bed, ready for the silliest sexual experience of his life.
She picked up the vibrator, its jelly shaft still slick with her juices and drenched with her scent. “Lie on your back.”
“¡Oye!” He did as she asked, his cock standing at attention, clearly eager for whatever she had in mind.
Rather than teasing him as he’d done to her, she went straight for the sweet spot, rubbing the wet shaft against the sensitive underside of his erection.
Javier gasped, his hips jerking reflexively at the strange and intense feeling.
She smiled and continued to caress him root to tip, letting the rotating steel balls rub against the ultrasensitive underside of the head.
It was unlike anything Javier had felt before, enough to keep him
hard and make him horny as hell, but probably not enough to get him off. Still, she didn’t relent, running the buzzing toy up and down his cock. Then she wrapped both hands around his cock and the vibrator, holding them together, shaft to shaft, using pressure to enhance the sensation. And in the blink of an eye, Javier was on the edge.
Still naked, she bent over him and began to circle her tongue around the engorged head of his cock, still holding the vibrator and his erection tightly together.
“Jesus.” Javier thought he would go out of his mind, one sensation spilling into the next, making him jerk and buck, until climax hit him, pleasure making him groan, hot semen blasting onto his belly.
It was a while before he could speak again.
Laura sat beside him running her fingertips over his chest, a smile on her face. “A toy for las chicas?”
* * *
IT WAS A little after midnight when Laura’s cell phone rang. She’d just fallen asleep but the sound brought her immediately awake. She recognized the ring.
It was Erik.
She hurried into the living room, hoping not to wake Javier. “This is Laura.”
“They’ve agreed to a welfare check,” Erik said. “I thought you wouldn’t mind me waking you up to tell you good news.”
Laura was so stunned she had to sit. “That’s wonderful!”
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at Javier, smiling, only to realize he couldn’t understand a word she was saying because she was speaking Swedish.
“A consular official and the embassy doctor will visit the family tomorrow to examine Klara, bring her up to date on her vaccinations and address any health problems she may have. They also hope to collect a DNA sample from her—and to take photographs.”
Photographs?
“Would . . . Would I be able to see the photos?”
Erik chuckled. “My dear, that’s the reason we’re taking them.”
“Thank you!” Laura hadn’t even dared to hope for this.
“You should know that Safiya claims to be Yasmina’s—that is to say Klara’s—biological mother. She says your baby was stillborn and was taken from you to be buried. Al-Nassar’s younger brother, who is now Safiya’s guardian, backs up her story, though we know he was nowhere near the compound when Klara was born.”
Erik was still talking—something about DNA being essential for her case—but Laura barely heard him, his words drowned out by the thrumming of her pulse.
Was it possible Safiya was telling the truth? Could Laura still be so confused about what happened that night that she didn’t realize her baby had died? Could the baby she’d been forced to bring into the world lie buried in the dirt in Afghanistan?
No. No!
“Safiya is lying. Klara is my child. She was born alive. I saw the blanket moving in Safiya’s arms. I heard her cry.”
It was that tiny cry that had cut through Laura’s shock and trauma and had made her realize, at least for a moment, what had just happened.
“That’s why we want DNA. We want to be able to prove in court that she’s your biological daughter. The Pakistani representative who met with the family said she did not resemble Safiya at all, but had lighter hair than Safiya’s other children and blue eyes. But that alone won’t be proof.”
Lighter hair. Blue eyes.
It was the first description Laura had gotten of her daughter.
Somehow, those few words made Klara more real to her, heightening her anxiety, sharpening her regret.
I am so sorry, Klara!
Laura’s stomach knotted. She looked up to find Javier watching her, a worried frown on his face. “I know you’ll do your best. Please give the consular officials and doctor in Pakistan my thanks.”
“I will.” Erik paused. “We’re doing all we can, Laura. I wish I could tell you that we’ll get her back, but I cannot make that promise.”
“We will get her back. We must.”
Laura refused to consider any other possibility.
CHAPTER
23
LAURA WAS QUIET and subdued at breakfast, and Javier knew she was worried about her daughter. He couldn’t blame her. She’d shared her news with him—some of it good, some of it bad—and he’d realized that the chances of her getting her little girl back through official channels were next to none.
“Why don’t you bring in the U.S. State Department?” he’d asked as they’d gone back to bed. “They’ve got a lot more international muscle.”
“They’ve got more enemies, too. Besides, if I do that, it won’t be long before someone in the media picks it up, and the coverage will make it harder to free her. She’ll be a prized pawn. It’s better to keep it quiet, work behind the scenes. Also, I’m not ready for the whole world to know what I did.”
He’d taken her hand. “Laura, you didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly,” she’d said, turning out the lights.
If he hadn’t just sworn to the commander that he’d kept OPSEC intact, he might have told her right then how he, as the man in command of the squad who’d rescued her, saw what had happened that night. Instead, he’d kept his mouth shut.
When she went into her office for the Monday morning I-Team meeting, he went for his morning run, leaving her with Childers again. Outside, the wind was biting cold, snow in the forecast. He ran hard, his leg giving him less grief. On the way back, he stopped at a grocery store to grab some food and other supplies.
He was standing in the vegetable aisle when he got the feeling he was being watched. He glanced to his left and saw a white guy—brown hair, brown eyes, close to six feet, maybe two-fifteen—staring straight at him. The man looked quickly away, smiling, one hand in his pocket.
Was he carrying?
Javier couldn’t be sure. He walked down a few random aisles just to make sure he was truly being followed. The man stuck with him.
What the hell?
He carried his basket to the express checkout lane and picked up a tabloid, pretending to give a shit about celebrity baby bumps. He glanced over the top of the magazine to find the hijo e puta standing in the next lane, still watching him. There was something off about him, something odd. Javier set the magazine back, drew out his wallet and his cell, and sent McBride a quick text.
Being followed. @ Grocery on 20th & Chestnut.
He had no idea what this guy wanted or whether he was connected in any way to the attacks on Laura. But he was taking no chances.
He got an immediate reply.
Walk S. on Chestnut to 19th. Turn left. Units en route.
Wanting the bastard to believe that Javier wasn’t on to him, he made conversation with the cashier, a friendly woman with sandy brown hair and brown eyes. He paid, picked up his bags, and headed out the door, using the mountains in the west to orient himself. He turned left, heading south. He didn’t have to look behind him to know the guy had followed.
What the hell did the bastard want with Javier?
Spare change? A date?
Sorry, cabrón. Can’t help you either way.
Javier reached 19th Street and turned left, no sign of the cops. They’d be running silent, of course, maybe even riding in unmarked cars. He slowed his pace a little, wanting to give the cops more time, his senses trained on the man walking behind him. The man began to laugh.
And Javier had had enough.
He turned—and found himself staring at the working end of what looked like a toy replica of an M1911, its tip fluorescent orange to distinguish it from the real thing. “What the—”
A smile on his face, the man fired.
BAM! BAM!
Javier felt searing pain as a very real round creased his rib cage. “What the fuck?”
The weapon was real.
He dropped to the concrete and rolled, drawing his concealed SIG. “Drop it!”
The man laughed, smiling as he aimed at Javier again.
Javier took him out with a double tap—two rounds, center mass.
He st
ared at Javier, fear in his eyes, a look of shock on his face, then fell to the ground. Javier didn’t have to check his pulse to know he was dead.
Then Javier heard the sound of running feet as the cavalry arrived at last. He tucked the SIG back into its holster and stood, sliding a hand beneath his jacket and pressing it against the pain in his left side. His hand came away bloody.
¡Puñeta!
Four cops approached, weapons drawn.
“On your knees! Hands above your head!” one of them shouted.
And Javier realized they were talking to him. He’d been in this situation—walking up on a shoot-out, unable to tell who were the good guys and who were the bad guys. It was better to comply and explain later than get shot again.
He had just dropped to his knees when an unmarked vehicle tore around the corner and drew to a stop at the curb.
Darcangelo stepped out, called off the officers. “What the hell happened?”
Javier stood. “No clue. This cabrón was following me. I heard him laughing and turned to find him pointing that piece at me. The tip is orange. I thought it was a toy, but the bullets were real enough.”
Darcangelo pulled Javier’s jacket open. “You’ve been shot.”
“He fired two rounds before I dropped him. One caught me. It’s just a graze. I’ll take care of it at Laura’s place.”
Darcangelo shook his head. “I hate to say it, but you’re not going anywhere. I need a statement from you, and I’m going to have to confiscate your firearm. In the meantime, you might as well humor me and let the Band-Aid boys check you out.”
An SUV turned the corner behind them, tires squealing, and stopped beside Darcangelo’s car. Hunter stepped out of the vehicle. “You okay, Corbray?”
Javier nodded.
Hunter looked over at Darcangelo. “How’d you get here so fast?”
“I was setting up that solicitation sting down on Colfax when the call came in. What took you so long? Getting your nails buffed?”
“Hey, fuck you. It’s my day off.”
“Your day off? What is that shit? Why don’t you see what you can do to keep Corbray out of the limelight while we clean this mess up? Any minute now the media are going to show up and start taking photos of him again.”