Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2

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Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2 Page 19

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.


  “Sounds shady as hell,” Trey says to T with a glance back at me. “Is there any way for us to trace the call?”

  I shake my head. “It was an unknown caller, but that's not strange. Most calls are blocked.”

  T yanks the wheel a little harder than necessary. I smack both palms against the window to keep my head from doing the same. “Easy there, big guy,” I say. “Don't blame the messenger back here.”

  “Sorry,” he grumbles. “It's just that you don't know everything that's going on.”

  I toss both hands in the air in utter defeat. “Because you told me not to worry about all that shit. Remember the cold shower incident?”

  “I know,” he grits out, slamming a fist into the dash.

  “What do you want to do?” Trey asks, looking at T.

  “Abort.”

  “Whoa.” Grasping both men's shoulders, I give them a quick shake. “Let's go check the place out first. If there are other cars in the parking lot, some activity at least, then we go in. If not, then we leave. I really need this, guys.”

  “Do you?” T says with an incredulous tone.

  “Um, yeah, I do.” Looking to Trey, I roll my eyes.

  Trey sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Mess….”

  “For fuck’s sake, just tell her,” T barks. “We're almost there.”

  I peer out the windshield. At this time of night, the traffic is still so heavy that we have a few minutes of traffic lights and waiting before we reach the restaurant, even though the building is within sight.

  “Tell me what?” I ask, confusion clear in my voice. When he doesn’t respond, I shove his shoulder. “Tell me what, Trey? You’re freaking me out back here.”

  “He bought the motherfucking votes you need,” T grits out.

  I tilt my head, eyes searching Trey's, probing for the truth. “What does he mean?”

  Trey's Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I went to my parents. They've promised me the Senate.”

  I slam my back against the seat. The pulsing energy from seconds ago drains from my veins. “What?”

  Trey unclicks his seat belt and climbs over the center console into the back seat. A few awkward moves later, he slides into the other captain chair and closes his eyes. “I knew you didn't have the votes, so I went to my parents and asked for their assistance.” His eyes flutter open and find mine. “They have a lot of pull in this town. I just wanted to help.” His chest balloons up with his heavy breath as he stares down at it. “I can't imagine you leaving.”

  I suck in a harsh breath, suddenly remembering I need to breathe to survive. My eyes search his, but I know I won't find any deceit behind them. His heart was in the right place, sure, but he still went behind my back. These past few weeks of fighting to schedule meetings, the highs and lows of wondering if I'll secure the Senate, was it all for nothing?

  “Say something, Mess,” Trey pleads.

  “I don't know what to say.” It's the truth. I'm not mad, yet I'm not happy. So what does that leave? Empty?

  “We're here.”

  Glancing out the window, I see several cars in the parking lot plus the lights still on inside. I swallow and look back to Trey, whose honey brown eyes are burning a hole straight through me. The need to breathe grips my lungs, but his presence, the closeness, prevents me from taking a deep breath.

  “I need some air,” I rasp before yanking on the handle and shoving the door open. T and Trey both shout behind me, but I'm already halfway out of the car. The moment both feet are on the black asphalt, I shut the door and lean back against it. Beside me, the driver door surges open with T barreling out at the same time. The agents in the other two SUVs file out, assuming the normal formations.

  The back of my head smacks the window. Staring up into the cloudless, starless dark sky, I take a deep breath and hold it.

  “He means well,” T mumbles. Peeling my eyes open, I find him standing in front of me, gun between his hands. “Can we just get back in the damn SUV, please?”

  “If he meant well, why didn't he tell me to begin with? Was he going to let me think all this was done on my own?” Sighing, I pitch forward, placing my hands on my bare knees. “I don't know how to feel.”

  “Can you sort through your feelings in the safety of the—” He cuts himself off but immediately recovers with a shouted “Cover!”

  Before his bellow has stopped ringing through the parking lot, another sound bursts through the night. The distinct bang of a gun shoots panic through my system, forcing me to my knees. The asphalt bites into the skin of my knees and palms as a heavy weight presses on top of me, nearly folding me in two. The glass above my head shatters, showering the ground with tiny shards of glass.

  “Get her out of here,” T barks near my ear. Another set of arms slides along my back, hooking around my waist and hauling me upright.

  A second shot booms through the night, eliciting a scream from deep in my throat. The person holding me grunts, his body slamming into me. My hip and shoulder collide with the unforgiving metal of the SUV. I cry out as pain sparks at each point of contact. Still the agent continues forward, practically dragging me to the other side of the SUV. Two more shots ring out, one splintering the side of the SUV inches from my face. Eyes wide, I glance from the bullet hole to across the street, where it seemed to have come from.

  Another agent grips my arm. My eyes fly up to Trey's profile.

  “Move your feet, Randi,” he barks, yanking me behind him. The metal digs into my back as he presses his full weight against my chest. “Get to—” He grunts before sliding to his knees, leaving me exposed.

  “Trey!” I yell, falling to the asphalt with him. Hands roaming his chest, I search for where he was hit when another set of hands grab under my arms, hauling me into the air. I scream for whoever is holding me to let me go. Legs and arms flailing, I try to break the person’s hold to get back to where Trey lies still on the ground, his eyes locked with mine. Before I can escape, I'm thrown into the back of the third SUV, my head smacking a hard-plastic cup holder.

  The SUV accelerates immediately. I roll backward, almost sliding into the next row before my ragged nails gain traction on the soft leather, halting my fall. Left and then right I roll as the SUV takes turns down various streets, bolting from the ambush.

  Arms trembling, it takes two attempts to push upright into the seat and another few to fasten my seat belt.

  “We're secure, ma'am,” says a voice up front.

  Too dazed by shock, I fail to place the voice of the driver, but looking to the passenger seat, Champ's good-looking profile affirms I'm in good hands. I slide my slick palm through my hair, over my blouse, and down my skirt, making sure everything is where it should be and there aren't any gaping holes I've somehow failed to notice up to this point.

  “Trey?” I rasp. “The others?”

  Champ swallows deeply. Gaze fixed out the window, gun at the ready, he shakes his head. “Let's get you home.”

  Not the response I was looking for.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Randi

  Thumbnail between my teeth, I watch the closed bedroom door, begging for it to open. My feet bounce along the soft carpet, making the entire bed frame shake beneath me. What the hell is taking them so long? Sighing, I switch nails, hoping maybe the middle one will ease the panic building in my gut.

  Two hours ago, I was rushed inside the house and up to my ‘secure’ room. Which it is, I guess, but secure doesn't mean shit when I have no clue what's going on.

  I'm not crazy enough to not realize what happened tonight, but everything still seems fuzzy. I was set up, that's clear, but by whom and why? What would’ve happened if I had gone inside as planned? Would I even be here right now? My safety is the last thing on my mind, coincidently. More than anything I need to know all my guys are safe, especially one mischievous man I can't get enough of, even though he's on my shit list for keeping stuff from me.

  Seriously, how many times were we toget
her the past few weeks where he could've told me what was going on behind the scenes?

  I shake my head, causing the makeshift towel turban to loosen and tumble to the bed. Gripping the damp towel, I shuffle into the bathroom and toss it into the hamper.

  Instead of retreating to keep my vigil from the bed, I pause in front of the mirror. My dark, damp hair hangs in disarray around my face, cascading over my shoulders. I slide my fingers into the terry cloth robe, brushing along my collarbone and pulling the soft material away as I go. Lifting it, I inspect the already deep purple and blue bruise that's forming.

  Carefully I trace along the edges, feeling the swollen muscle beneath. It could've been worse. A lot worse. Like the guys. Damn, where are they?

  My eyes flick to the bathroom door, hoping Trey will materialize and tell me everything's okay. But the doorway remains empty, the bedroom just beyond quiet.

  I tug at the ends of the robe's sash, allowing the two sides to part. Skimming my fingertips down my belly, I move the right side of the robe and pop my hip to see the bruise in the mirror. From hip bone to midthigh, another dark bruise has already formed. I'd be sore as hell if it weren't for the pain meds the annoying doctor made me take before she left an hour or so ago.

  I close the robe and cinch the sash tight before turning from my disheveled reflection. Worry clenches my lower belly for my guys. Where the hell are they? A wide, open-mouth yawn escapes as I trudge to the soft bed. The fluffy duvet rustles as I pull it and the top sheet back. Snuggling into the covers, I fluff the pillow and angle it so I can lie down and have a good view of the door.

  Resting my cheek on the pillow, I tuck my arms beneath it and draw my knees up close to my chest. Soon my eyes grow heavy, my slow blinks turning into minutes of darkness behind closed lids. Each time, I fight to reopen them, determined to keep my vigil for when he'll bust through the door and explain everything.

  After several attempts at fighting the inevitable, I lose the battle, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  “Mess.”

  The familiar voice urges me awake, pulling me from the darkness. I peel my eyes open, blinking several times to allow them to adjust to the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Searching for the owner of the voice that woke me, I scan the shadowed room, halting on the figure at the end of the bed.

  “What time is it?” I rasp, my throat dry with sleep.

  “Almost five,” Trey responds, his voice low.

  “Is everyone okay?” Palms against the mattress, I push up to a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard.

  “They will be. No fatalities, but there were a few injuries.” He opens his mouth to say something more but snaps it shut.

  “What?” I ask anxiously. When he doesn't respond, I crawl along the bed toward him. Hand against his prickly cheek, I turn his face to meet mine. “Tell me.”

  His eyes slide low, locking on my lips. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know I should've, but I won't apologize for what I did. I'm not letting you go home, Randi, no matter what I have to give up.”

  “What do you have to give up?” I question, swallowing thickly.

  “I need you, Randi.”

  Not giving me a second to respond, Trey shifts forward, closing the few inches that separate us. Cupping the back of my head, he threads his fingers through my still-damp hair. Tightening his grip, he shifts the angle, deepening the kiss. The tip of his tongue slides along the seam of my lips, begging me to open. The pent-up worry seeps from my body as I part my lips, eager to let him chase away the remaining fear.

  With clumsy fingers, I work down the buttons of his dress shirt. Shoving the material off his shoulders, I brush two fingers down his sculpted chest, following the small trail of chest hair over his abs before pausing just above his belt. Tracing the top of his suit pants, I seal my lips harder against his, pouring all my want and desire into him. With a growl, Trey yanks the loose sash of the robe, exposing me fully.

  My knees dig into the mattress as I kneel and shrug off the robe, allowing it to puddle to the floor beside the bed. Keeping one knee planted, I slide the other across his lap, securing it to the bed on the other side of his hips. Trey breaks the kiss, nipping at my lower lip. My eyes flutter closed as he kisses along my jaw, scraping his along the column of my neck as he makes his way to my chest. Wetness pools between my spread thighs, an aching throb pulsing, demanding some kind of relief. Sinking against his lap, I rub my slick center along his hard cock still trapped inside his suit pants. I moan at the friction, and a wicked smile tugs at his lips just before he bucks his hips off the bed, slamming against my sensitive center.

  I cry out as his teeth nip at my pebbled nipple before sucking it between his lips, flicking the tip with his tongue. Palming the other, he teases me mercilessly, the twisting and tugging bordering on the edge of pain. Again and again I rock against him, seeking some kind of relief, my body desperate for his.

  The earlier emotions of the night come seeping through, causing a deep ache to build inside my chest. “I was so worried,” I whisper against his ear, tugging him close. His lips brush along my neck, his nose delving into my hair to take a deep inhale. “I was afraid I'd lost you.” The words pour out of me, cracking open my heart and allowing the swelling emotions to pour out. Chest to chest, I squeeze him tighter.

  “Thank God for Kevlar or you would have.”

  My heart stutters. Palms against his shoulders, I push back to search his face. “What?”

  His knuckles skim along the curves of my breasts. His chest rises as a pinch of pain scrunches his features. “I was hit in the chest, but my vest saved my life.”

  “Damnit,” I shout. “I'm sorry! And here I am crawling all over you.” I shift to move off his lap, but his hands clamp around my hips, holding me in place. With a scowl, I attempt to roll my weight. Before I register the absence of his right hand against my skin, a loud smack sounds in the room and a hot stinging pain radiates from my backside.

  Eyes wide, I search his. “Did you just spank me?”

  The corners of his lips tug upward. Biting his lower lip, he nods. “Try again.” His voice is deep, full of need.

  With little conviction, I wiggle like I'm trying to slide off his lap. This time I'm prepared for it. The sharp slap from his palm causes my breath to hitch but not in pain. The coarse calluses along his palm scrape my now sensitive backside, soothing the sting.

  Eyes locked with his, I lift off his lap, my fingers delving between us to fumble with his belt. The ripples of his abs flex as I tug on the leather and unfasten his pants, dipping inside. A sharp hiss pushes through his clenched teeth as I wrap my hand around him and slide up and down, my thumb smearing the beading moisture along the soft head. My grip still around his hard shaft, Trey rolls us, pinning my back to the mattress.

  His brown eyes scan every inch of my body, pausing to stare between my thighs. Two fingers tap my wrist, urging me to release him. Sliding off the bed, Trey shoves his suit pants to the floor and toes off his shoes. Climbing back onto the bed, palms pressing into the mattress beside my head, he stares down at me.

  The soft pad of his index finger trails along my forehead, grazing along my cheekbone, down my nose, and across my lips like he's memorizing every inch of my face.

  “You've changed me, Randi Sawyer. I'm a better man because of you. For the first time in my life, I have someone I'm willing—no, I want to give it all for. No matter what happens in the future, I want you to know that I don't regret anything. The only thing I could ever regret between us is for you not to know how much you mean to me. I love you, Randi.”

  A single tear drips from my eye. Tracking the drop, he leans forward, kissing it from my skin.

  Lips against my ear, he whispers, “I'll never not love you, Mess.”

  Gripping my hip, he thrusts forward, easily sliding inside and causing my words to vanish on a gasp. His eyes shut as he pushes deeper, sealing our lower half tightly together. The soft skin of his
back molds beneath my tight fingers. A hand slides down the outside of my thigh, hiking my leg higher, my knee nearly touching my shoulder. He thrusts hard, and I cry out as pleasure swells deep in my belly. Arching up, I nip at his lower lip, begging for his mouth to connect with mine.

  Our tongues dance as his hips pound against mine. Our harsh breaths and the distinct slapping of skin are the only sounds in the quiet bedroom. When he pushes deep, I groan, my head digging deeper against the mattress as he circles his hips.

  “I love your sounds,” he mutters against my lips before sucking along my neck. As if for emphasis, he circles his hips again, his lower half somehow pressing hard against my clit and eliciting another pleasure-filled gasp from me. “That's it, baby.”

  I pop my hips off the bed, matching his demanding thrusts. His grunts and whispered curses drive me higher, inching closer toward the peak of pleasure. His bruising grip on my thigh slides lower, dipping between our bodies. He pinches my swollen nub at the same time as he thrusts in as deep as he can go.

  My scream is swallowed up by his lips sealing against mine. I writhe beneath his heavy weight, soaking up every second of body-pulsing pleasure as his own orgasm ripples through his body. Beneath my fingers, his sweat-slicked back muscles quiver.

  All the stress from earlier melts away, leaving my muscles relaxed and my entire body placid beneath his.

  With a groan, his supporting arm gives out, causing his full weight to press me into the mattress. His hot, quick breaths brush against my ear, producing a sensual shiver that snakes down my spine. Unable to breathe, I press a palm against his chest. The pain-filled curse that passes his lips has me jerking my hand away like I’ve touched scorching hot metal.

  “What?” I ask, trying to wiggle out from under him. “What did I do?”

  He groans and rolls off me but immediately slides off the bed and heads for the bathroom instead of answering.

 

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