Finding His Mark (Stealth Ops Book 1)

by Brittney Sahin

  “Hang on, I’m only just starting.”

  Little dots appeared from the bliss that glided through her. She didn’t want to orgasm in less than a minute, but when he added more pressure with his fast tongue, coupled with his fingers . . . she came undone. She broke into a million pieces, not sure how she’d ever get put back together.

  And maybe she didn’t want to, either.

  “Don’t stop.” She kept her hands knotted as she rode the wave of ecstasy for as long as possible.

  And once her heart slowed to its normal rhythm, he was on his feet, brushing his lips across hers as his fingers skirted the side of her body. “Are you ready for me?”

  “God, yes.”

  He stood and grabbed a foil packet from his pants pocket.

  “Stay on the desk.” He stroked himself a few times before rolling it on.

  “You came prepared, huh?” Amusement lit her insides, as well as gratefulness for the protection.

  “I’m always prepared for every situation.” His fists met the desk, and he nuzzled his face against her neck before biting her earlobe. “I just didn’t prepare myself for meeting you.”

  His words had her spine bowing, her body growing ready again.

  She wanted to blast out of the shell of a life she’d been hiding in and be with this man.

  Tomorrow wasn’t promised, but if the sun gave birth to a new day like always, and she was alive and kicking to see it—she’d worry about her emotions then.

  Luke kissed her softly, his tongue nudging her lips open. He pulled himself tight against her by wrapping her legs around him, and he positioned himself at her center, never losing touch of her mouth.

  While standing, his powerful thighs up against the desk, he filled her in one move.

  His body was a gift from God. And right now, he was all hers.

  Her lips left his as she started to fall back from his hard thrusts, thrusts that pretty much woke up every nerve cell in her body, sending her into orgasmic shock.

  His hand swooped to her spine, holding on to her even if she were like dead weight against his palm as he rocked in and out of her.

  She gathered her strength and roped her arms around his neck to help them stay connected, certain she’d never be the same again after tonight . . . but she’d never regret this moment, even if the moment chipped away a piece of her heart.

  “Eva.” He said her name like a broken moan into her ear when he pulled her tight against him.

  “This is—” She cut herself off as her breathing competed with her words, and she felt him tensing and jerking inside of her.

  He held her in his arms after he’d orgasmed, as if he never wanted to let her go, as if the world had wanted them to meet and this was all part of destiny’s plans.

  His chest lifted and fell with slow breaths as he stared into her eyes. She didn’t know what to say or how to act. She’d never felt like this before, and it wasn’t just about the sex. No, it was about the moment—right now. The moment when the curtain lifts to expose what happened between two people, and everything is raw and exposed.

  This moment—this moment was theirs. It was the moment Hollywood chased after, attempting to capture on screen.

  She was feeling it—whatever it was.

  “You okay?” His pupils constricted, and his mouth set into a hard line as if worry had taken hold of him.

  She nodded and attempted to corral her thoughts. “I’m great, actually.”

  His dimple popped, but he kept quiet and eased out of her.

  “So, what do you suggest we do now?” She covered her chest with her arm, a sudden shyness fighting her previously brazen nakedness.

  “Well, we could try the bed next, with you on top.” He arched a brow. “If you’re up for it? I mean, we do have time to kill.”

  “It’d be the logical thing to do, I suppose,” she said softly, allowing her arms to drop to her sides to expose her breasts.

  “I’m a sucker for doing what’s logical,” he said and pulled her back into a crushing embrace.

  He peppered her with kisses. His tongue darted over her belly button, and she stifled a laugh. “You were right,” she said before releasing a lazy sigh—the kind you reward yourself with after having mind-blowing sex.

  He propped his head up with a couple of pillows, and she ran a short fingernail over his pec and across the slight dusting of chest hair.

  “Of course, I am.” He cleared his throat and brought her palm to his mouth. “About what, though?”

  “You told me I needed a better experience to draw upon for the sex scenes in my script.” She chuckled. “And you just gave me an entire night of memories to utilize in the future.”

  He laughed. “So if you ever make a movie, I’ll know the hot scenes were based on our time together?”

  “Not that you need another ego boost.”

  He laced their fingers together, resting their hands atop his strong heart.

  “I can’t believe we did this, though. I mean, given the situation we’re in—are we nuts?”

  He rolled his head to the side to look at her. “I know I am, but I accepted that long ago.” He winked and looked skyward. “I do things that scare the shit out of me all of the time, which has to be one of Webster’s definitions for the word nuts.”

  “I don’t know about Webster, but . . .” Her breath hitched at the realization of his words. “Are you saying what we did tonight scared you?” It was hard for her to imagine Luke being scared of anything, especially of her.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, but he kept hold of her hand.

  A blanket of thoughts dropped over her mind, like her yammering aunt who told the same stories over and over again at Thanksgiving. Her brain wouldn’t stop creating stories, trying to interpret the words followed by the painstaking silence.

  He squeezed her hand tighter. “There’s a fear that creeps up the back of my neck and dips into my mind right before I jump out of a plane or scale whatever need be on God’s green earth.” His tone was dark, his admission shocking, and when she looked back at him, his eyes were open but glued to the ceiling. “And when I go down a fatal funnel—aka, an alleyway—I fear death. When a bullet barks out of my rifle and pink mist sprays from the impact of the round in my target—my heart dies a little at the fear of whether or not the kill was justified, even if the guy was an asshole.”

  This time, she added pressure to their held hands, to signal to him she was listening—that she cared. She had no words, though. How does one respond to what he’d said? For the first time, even in her head, she was speechless.

  “Hollywood,” he said, catching her eyes, “has it wrong. We’re afraid. We have fears. But fear isn’t the enemy. Fear is what drives us to survive, to live to see another day. Fear keeps our brothers alive during enemy fire. It motivates us to do our absolute best in any given situation.”

  Her mouth rounded in understanding, and a rush of anger whipped through her when she realized she’d judged him, yet again. Assuming that a man like him couldn’t possibly be afraid of anything.

  “But this,” he sucked in a sharp breath and let it out through his nose, while raising their palms a few inches off his chest, “scares the shit out of me. And it’s the kind of fear I don’t know how to face. How to handle.” He closed his eyes once more, as if the contact between the two of them was too hard. “I can navigate the depths of almost any challenge, but there’s one thing I’ve always run from.”

  “What?” she whispered, but she knew the answer in her heart.

  “Allowing myself to ever feel anything for someone. It’s a line I’ve never crossed.”

  Her heart worked harder as he let go of her hand and shifted to his side. She sat up on her elbows, and the pad of his thumb pulled at her lower lip. “Are you saying you want to cross it?”

  “We barely know each other.” His brows pulled together as he held her cheek. “It doesn’t make sense, right?”

  “I don�
��t know anything anymore ever since you showed up in my life.” The taste of something more, the promise of something to come, cut into her mouth, and she swallowed her fears and tried to stay in the moment. “I wouldn’t take tonight back, though. As insane as it sounds, I don’t know if I could ever rewind the last few days and let the memories of our time together slip from my mind.” Tears crept into her eyes. “Does that make me a bad person?” Her voice rocked from emotion. “I screwed up your mission, and we’re both in danger, but all I can seem to focus on is the way you make me feel when you look at me.”

  “And how do I make you feel?” He leaned in closer, his mouth hovering near hers.

  A teardrop hit her parted lips. “Seen,” she whispered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  His vibrating cell rousted him from sleep, and he groaned and slapped his hand on the table in search for it.

  He knocked it to the ground and lifted his head to look over at Eva, sound asleep next to him.

  Her hair covered most of her face, and when he sat up, he shifted the mass of dark locks off her cheek so he could better see her.

  So damn beautiful. And smart. And witty. Also stubborn, in a breathtaking way.

  The moment he’d taken her into his arms, he’d known he was in trouble.

  He had one rule for not only himself, but his team, and he was terrified this woman had the potential to blow it to pieces.

  Four days. Had it only been four days since they’d met?

  Today was the day she was actually supposed to show up at her cabin. But today was also the day he realized he was capable of something he thought he’d buried deep inside of him for the sake of the job.

  Country first.

  Country always.

  But . . .

  He let out a soft but frustrated sigh and dragged his palms down his face before grabbing his phone off the floor.

  A text popped up from Jessica a moment later.

  Emergency. Call me.

  He walked naked over to the window.

  Waiting for the line to connect, he opened the blinds and looked out at the mountain in the distance as the sun roared to life like a giant ball of fire from behind the top peak.

  “I need you on a plane within three hours. You think you can make it to Philly in time?” Jess cut straight to the point.

  “What about the consulate and New York?”

  “Malik Yilmaz just showed his face outside the French Embassy in Monaco. He looked right at the camera as if saying, Come get me, motherfuckers.”

  “What the hell is he doing there, and how did he get out of the States without us knowing about it?”

  “No damn idea, but believe me, I’m looking into it. I’m also checking to see if he or his brother ever traveled to Monaco. Will alerted POTUS to the change in plans. I’m en-route to the airport. I’m taking a flight to Nice in two hours, then the team and I will drive to Monaco from there.”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder at Eva, stirring in her sleep. “Do we have any assets in Monaco that can try and get a location on him in the meantime? Anyone we can trust, I should say.”

  “Yeah. Remember Harper Brooks? She’s a CIA field agent, and she’s stationed outside Nice. Will didn’t want to bring anyone outside our team into this, but we can’t risk losing Malik, so he’s sending her in now. I’ve got my facial recognition program running—if he’s still there, I’ll find him.”

  “Good.” Luke’s shoulders relaxed at the idea of this all hopefully ending soon. “Do you think Malik’s taking a page from our playbook and trying to bait us to him?”

  “Looks that way. Why else would he risk leaving hiding?”

  He grabbed his strewn clothes off the floor, catching Eva’s eyes when he stood upright. “I take it Harper can’t grab Malik for us, so we can call it a day?”

  “Sure, wiseass.”

  “Everything okay?” Eva whispered, sitting now.

  “Yeah,” he mouthed and added, “Give me a sec.”

  She nodded and fisted the sheet close to her skin.

  “Why are we flying commercial? Do you want him to know we’re coming?”

  “We don’t have time to coordinate a military flight, especially without raising any alarms as to who the hell we are—and I can’t get a private jet on such short notice. Besides, Malik’s expecting us.”

  He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder while pulling on his boxers and jeans, and then a thought hit him like a bullet, and he slowly turned toward the stunning woman in bed. “What about Eva?”

  “She comes with us,” Jessica said after a few seconds of silence passed.

  “I don’t like this.” Taking Eva to Europe with him? How could he put her in even more danger?

  “We don’t have a choice. There’s no time to arrange a bodyguard for her, and aside from two of our guys staying back to babysit Ender’s comatose body, everyone needs to be in Monaco.”

  “I’m not a huge fan of walking directly into a trap,” Luke muttered.

  “Since when do we do that?” A long breath came through the line. “Just call me when you get to Philly. I’m making arrangements for two new IDs and passports to be delivered to a locker at the bus terminal outside the airport. Once I have confirmation, I’ll get you the passcode to the locker.”

  “Okay. Be safe.” He ended the call, tucked the phone in his pocket, and then settled his hands on his hips as he studied Eva standing nervously before him with her lip between her teeth. “You ever been to Monaco?” It was home to the rich and famous—so, maybe . . .

  “Yeah, actually.” She smiled.

  On the plane, Eva peered at him and a hint of a shy grin touched her glossy lips.

  She’d stopped in one of the stores at the airport and bought mascara and gloss. She was a natural beauty, but the gloss did have him wanting to suck the cherry flavor right off her lips.

  “How are you feeling, Mrs. Cross?” He reached for her hand beneath the tray table.

  She rolled her tongue over her lips, and he knew she was purposefully teasing him, which had him hardening already. This woman was something else. “Okay, Mister Cross, given the circumstances.”

  Thrown into danger, and yet, she could still roll on the fly with him. Who the hell was she? He wanted to know more and more about her; he couldn’t seem to get enough. He’d found himself pumping her with questions on their drive to the airport.

  He shifted the sweater off her right shoulder and pressed his lips to the light dusting of freckles there. “You smell like heaven.”

  “I smell like I haven’t taken a shower.” Her shoulders lifted from her soft laugh.

  He found her ear. “Actually, you smell like sex.”

  She looked up to find his eyes again, their noses almost touching. Her hazel irises burned with lust, reciprocating his own desires. He wanted to pin her down and take his sweet time with her, but they were on board a flight with two hundred people, and so . . .

  He doubted they’d have time to be together once in Monaco, so he had to relish the time he had with her now, knowing it’d come to an abrupt end once the mission was over.

  He’d go back to his life, and she’d go back to—what exactly? Would she ever be safe as Eva or Everly? Had Malik or Ender given her name to any terrorist organization?

  He sat taller and cupped his mouth as he processed potential outcomes for a woman he barely knew, but desperately didn’t want to let go of.

  FEAR.

  Four letters that packed a bruising punch.

  His fear of ever falling for someone, especially someone who could steal his breath, that fear had kept him at arm’s length from women. But Eva . . .

  “You know what’s strange?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah?”

  “I still can’t escape my last name, not even with you.” She swallowed. “The Reed name is still a prickle in my side.”

  “How so?”

  She shook her head lightly. “I can’t be Everly with you, because that means
I’d pull you into the same harsh light I tried escaping from, which would be dangerous for you. For who you are,” she said in a low voice, even though her words were masked to others by the high altitude and crying baby two rows behind them.

  “Do you want to be Everly again?”

  “I don’t know.” Her palm flattened on the table next to her coffee, and she stared down at her chipped nails. “You may not even want to see me again after all of this is over, but it kills our chances anyway, doesn’t it? Even living as Eva—if someone found out who I really am . . .”

  He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting the natural recoil inside of him he’d honed so well over the years, which kept him from feeling anything for anyone. “It’s not about your last name.” A painful blow of disappointment took hold of him, knowing he’d have to let her go, and soon.

  “What’s it about then?” She looked over at the middle row of people with earphones in, watching movies, then peeked behind her to check for the all-clear to talk. “Because your job is classified?” She mouthed the sentence even though no one could hear.

  “It’s complicated.” He released her hand as the normal, unmistakable coolness attempted to gather inside of him. He lifted his coffee for a chance to gather his thoughts, to fight off the inevitable truth of who he was—needing more time to just be a man, so he could be with someone like her.

  “When is anything good in life ever easy?”

  The base of his skull met the back of the seat, and he lowered his drink to the table. He shifted uncomfortably, his knees bumping into his tray table, almost spilling his coffee. “Why don’t we save this conversation for another day?”

  Her eyes drew tight, her lips flattening. “What if we don’t have another day?”

  “You can’t think like that.”

  She looked away from him and out the small window. “I thought the fear of tomorrow not being promised helped you survive the day.”

  “You also have to be optimistic that tomorrow will come.”

  “It sounds like you constantly have to toe the line. Must make for a hard balancing act.”