After the Rain

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After the Rain Page 8

by Karen-Anne Stewart


  The air is bitter cold when Kas finally drags Raina out the door a little after 8:00 p.m. “I have less than thirty-six hours with you before you leave for Atlanta, darlin’, and I plan on enjoying every last one of them to my fullest ability.” Kas picks her up and swings her around, setting her on top of the trunk of her car, “As you know, I have endless abilities in certain areas.”

  “I could use some reminding,” Raina whispers, pressing her lips to his, giving him a taste of her own adept talents.

  “I’m more than happy to oblige,” he grins, and his dark eyes are filled with the promise of a night to remember.

  The twenty minute drive home seems like hours. Raina’s hormones feel like they are jonesing, and she’s in desperate need to feed her addiction. Kas seems just as much in need as she is by the way he rushes her inside, stripping her of her shirt before they make it to the living room. Their desire is raging by the time the back of Raina’s knees touch the mattress. She giggles when Kas picks her up, tossing her on the bed, before ridding himself of his own clothing, dropping them onto the floor. “Just so you know, I’m holding you captive until Monday morning,” he tells her while he leans above her on the bed.

  “I’d be furious if you didn’t.”

  Kas’ eyes are molten chocolate as his mouth descends on her skin, tasting, teasing, and nipping. Gripping the sheets, Raina’s body is pulled to his. The heat searing through her begs for release, but he takes his time delivering sweet torture. Once his mouth has sampled every inch of her, he grabs her, sliding his eager wife to the edge of the bed. “Roll over,” he requests huskily.

  Raina bites her lip as she follows his lead. The feel of his hands wrapped around her waist and his mouth on her back sends delicious chills over her sensitized skin. When she can’t take anymore without feeling him inside of her, she practically whimpers. “Please,” she begs.

  Not making her ask twice, he slowly makes her his, taking his time feeling the exquisite sensations. His pleasure filled rhythm gains momentum, causing Raina to fist the sheets until her knuckles are white. The way he makes her feel is mind-altering, so unbelievably breathtaking, it’s almost too much to bear. Shifting his hips, lifting her waist higher, and plunging impossibly deeper, makes sweet tears spring into her eyes at the overwhelming sensation. His thrusts alternate between slow and steady to hard and exhilaratingly reckless as he takes her closer.

  Her grip tightens, pulling the sheets towards her as her knees feel wonderfully weak. Her toes are barely able to touch the floor as she lies on her stomach across the bed. She is completely at his mercy. There’s no other place she would rather be. Feeling the intoxicating rhythm of her body building, ready to explode, she throws her head back with her release. A cry of absolute pleasure pierces the air as her auburn waves tumble down the smooth, ivory skin of her back, sending Kas into his own hearty release.

  “I.Love.You.Woman!” he states in between ragged breaths, collapsing on top of her.

  When he scoots her across the bed, pulling her close to him, her very satisfied grin and love in her eyes lets him know she feels exactly the same for him.

  Monday morning is overcast and frigid. Kas slips his arms around Raina outside Lawson’s Chevrolet, wrapping her in his arms, memorizing the feel of her slender body against his masculine frame. Biting his tongue, he kisses her forehead then tells her to go.

  “I’ll call you when we get there.”

  “You better,” he winks, leaning in, giving her one last kiss. He closes her door and places his hand on the frame of Lawson’s open window. His breath leaves a smoky fog, “You take care of her.”

  “I will,” Lawson nods.

  The drive to Atlanta is filled with going over new identities and going through an obscene amount of food with a hefty side of obscene jokes. Scott bumps Raina’s arm with his, pulling her fixed gaze away from the window, “It never gets easier leaving them behind.”

  “Thanks,” Raina laughs, “shouldn’t you be telling me not to worry, that it will get better with time?”

  “Only if you want me to lie to you,” he responds, smiling kindly.

  “Here I am sulking over here when I’m sure it’s killing you, too, especially with the baby on the way.”

  The light in Scott’s eyes fills Raina with longing, wanting so badly to cause that light to burn brightly in Kas’ eyes; that kind of light only a father, or soon-to-be father, can have. “I’m going to be one of those annoying dad’s showing perfect strangers a million photos of my kid on the phone,” he chuckles, pulling his cell out and showing Raina the 3D image of his son. “This was taken last week. Melissa had just turned twenty-nine weeks.”

  “That’s amazing.” Raina’s eyes show every bit of her amazement as she stares down at the picture of the little baby boy sucking his thumb while still in the womb. Involuntarily, her eyes tear up, and she quickly wipes them.

  Scott’s kind smile widens, “I know that look, Melissa had it for months before we found out we were pregnant.”

  Not trusting her voice, Raina just returns his smile, her eyes still misty.

  Garrett throws an empty sandwich wrapper at her, “Pierce trying to knock you up already?”

  Lawson punches him in the arm, “Shut up!” Looking in his rearview mirror, he gives her a gruff smile, “As you can tell, we’re not used to having ladies on ops with us.”

  Lawson turns the music on, giving Raina a break from the rowdy bunch.

  The 563 miles are finally behind them, and Lawson stretches as he slides out of the vehicle. Raina takes a look at the cheap motel, even worse than the seedy motel from her first undercover experience. She’s hoping to get a spot on Scott’s couch in his penthouse suite instead of one of the beds that she doesn’t even want to think about touching here. Taking her suitcase out of the back, Lawson provides her with the news she’s praying for, “This isn’t your stop, Rain.”

  Trying to keep from doing an exuberant happy dance, she bites back her smile, grabbing a bag of equipment instead and helping to unload the gear into the cramped rooms. Grimacing, she thinks of how all of the agents deserve a decent hotel for what they do, not these dumps. Silently cursing the budget cuts, she guiltily hurries behind Lawson back to the SUV so he can take her and Scott to their home away from home.

  The five-star hotel practically screams pretentious. The people entering and exiting the grandiose glass doors underneath the boastful arch ooze wealth. The women are adorned with precious jewels, draped in exorbitantly overpriced brand name clothing, and their hair and nails are meticulously done. Raina looks down at her jeans and sweatshirt and wonders if riffraff like her will even be allowed near the door. Scott chuckles at her expression, “We’ve got you covered.”

  Raina gratefully takes the full-length, white cashmere wool coat, carefully slipping it on and tying it closed so her clothing won’t show. Looking down at her shoes, she decides the boots will pass. They aren’t designer, but they are new and scuff free. Scott kicks off his tennis shoes and slips into shiny lace-up leather dress shoes before covering his comfortable traveling clothing in a long, black wool coat.

  “Ready?” Scott asks.

  Raina gives him a curt nod.

  “Remember, I do all the talking.”

  “Got it.”

  Lawson gives Raina a quick glance, “Just do what you did with Kas, and you’ll be fine.”

  Another nod of her head is her last communication with Lawson as Scott opens her door when Lawson pulls in front of the hotel. Two well-dressed doorman take their luggage, dutifully following them inside. Scott takes care of the check-in process with an heir of authority and arrogance, morphing into James Styles, the successful millionaire in ‘sales’.

  Raina’s breathing returns to normal once they are safely behind closed doors. Removing her coat, she hangs it up in the closet, not wanting to get anything on it.

  “We are expecting to be called for a meeting early tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to call home t
hen hit the sac. The bedroom is through those doors, I’ll take the couch. I can order you some room service if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m fine, thanks. I’m pretty tired, too. I’m going to call Kas then go to bed myself.”

  Scott carries her suitcase to the bedroom and sets it on the plush, light blue high back chair. “Get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow,” Scott tells her on his way towards the door. His hand rests on the knob for a couple of seconds before he turns back around, “Something tells me that you’ll make a great mother.”

  Smiling, she tells Scott goodnight and falls onto the huge king-size bed when he shuts the door. His words ring in her ears; the compliment means more to her than he could know. She grabs her cell from her purse and dials Kas, her smile widening when he answers before it barely has time to ring twice.

  “Hey, baby, you make it okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m currently sprawled out on the largest bed I’ve ever seen in my life. The comforter is probably worth more than I make in a month on the FBI salary, I’m afraid to wrinkle it,” she giggles.

  “I love to hear you laugh.”

  “I love everything about you. I miss you already,” she tells him truthfully.

  “Ditto, sweetheart. Are you nervous?”

  “No.”

  “Liar,” he chuckles.

  “If you already knew, why d’ya ask?” she playfully banters.

  “You’ll do great, Rain.”

  “I do better when you’re around,” she whispers. I always do better when you’re around.

  “Get some sleep, darlin’, you’ll be home soon. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She lies on the bed a few minutes staring at the fancy renaissance décor of the room before brushing her teeth and sliding underneath the soft, thick covers. Her body’s exhausted, but her mind refuses to allow her rest. It takes two hours before sleep finally takes her.

  The heavy curtains keep all light from the room. The quiet tapping on the door stirs her. Blinking at the clock, she realizes Scott’s knocking. Throwing her robe around her, she opens the dark stained oak French doors.

  “Good morning. Breakfast will arrive in an hour.”

  “Thanks. Do you want the shower first?”

  “No, you go ahead.”

  Raina lets the hot water rain over her body as she goes over her role. Laughing out loud at herself, she muses at how playing a role to where you just do as you’re told should be a breeze, not the difficult task she finds it to be. Dressing quickly in the elegant lavender silk gown Scott laid on the bed for her, butterflies swarm in her stomach. Relieved that it isn’t like the skimpy dress she wore to the meet with Victor, she opens the bedroom doors, “The bathroom is all yours. I’ll finish my hair while you’re showering.”

  Once her hair is completely straight, she puts it into a high ponytail. Raina stares at her reflection, trying to calm the nausea at how Lawson recommended her hair be this way to make her appear the sixteen-year old she’s supposed to be. She decides against make-up, keeping her face fresh to help show youth.

  Neither of them has much of an appetite, and Raina watches Scott carefully as he goes over last minute details. Encouraged by his calm demeanor, she tries to relax. Kas seems completely at ease with ops, even though she knows he’s not. Scott seems to have it under control, but she can tell he’s not as thoroughly disciplined as her husband. The phone rings, and Raina nearly jumps out of her skin.

  Scott nods at her, “The driver’s downstairs.”

  Show time.

  The designated meeting place seems strange to Raina, but so does everything the traffickers do. She follows Scott through the aquarium, wanting to be able to causally enjoy the beautiful sea creatures but forcing herself to keep her gaze at the colorful sea life to a minimum. As soon as they left the penthouse, Scott’s kind eyes and gentle tone turned harsh, changing into who he’s supposed to be. The transformation isn’t as easy for Raina, and she has already been severely scolded and threatened for opening her mouth to thank the driver when he opened her door.

  The chitchat between Scott, aka James, and Marc is lite, not touching the subject of the dark world of buying and selling human beings. Careful to not look at the tall, slender dark-haired man, Raina guesses he’s Italian. Completely void of any telltale accent, she surmises he was born in the states.

  It’s Marc’s bodyguards that send Raina’s nerves teetering on the edge. They are huge! The money on the men’s clothing alone shows they are part of the highest of the social statuses. For burly bodyguards, they are carefully groomed, their fingers manicured, faces smooth from spa treatments, and their hair sports the newest fashion. Over the past year, Raina has seen a myriad of handlers, but it’s the wealthy ones that frighten her most. They are the ones with the power and connections.

  Her mind strays to Senator Wakely and Secretary of State Harlem Craig. She fights the anger starting to flame inside her at how one of them might be Jefferson. Rationally, she realizes most people are good, decent. There are many powerful leaders who have morals, but it’s the few who don’t that do irreparable damage.

  Scott’s voice brings her back to the moment. “Lunch sounds perfect.”

  Raina’s gaze quickly finds the floor as Scott possessively places his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the car. Their roles don’t falter on the ride to the restaurant, they have to maintain their lies in front of the questionable driver, and she’s not about to be on the receiving end of Scott’s scourging tone and threatening words again, even if it is just for show.

  They are briskly escorted to the private dining room when they arrive, and Raina prepares herself for business to begin. She is seated to the side, on the left of another handler introduced as Kyle. Lunch is ordered for her, which she expected. Marc breaches the subject of the bid with Scott, looking her way every few minutes. Keeping her gaze low and her attitude submissive is an infuriatingly difficult task, much harder than it was when she was on her first meet. Every time she feels Marc’s eyes on her, she wants to come out of her skin.

  The conversation steadily turns to business, and the men’s demeanors become harsher, colder, almost combative. Voices lower as glances her way increase. Raina’s body tenses, the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, leaving her wondering why Marc keeps looking at her, knowing beyond a shadow of doubt that it can’t be from something good. After a quiet, but angry, verbal exchange, Scott leaves her, giving her a discreet glance letting her know that Lawson and the rest of the team are just outside as he follows Marc to the bar.

  Her heart pounds so loudly in her chest she would swear the bodyguard that didn’t accompany Marc can hear it from across the room. She hasn’t been left alone with a handler before, ever. Doubts of her being able to pull this off seize her. Forcing her breathing to not catapult straight to hyperventilation, she tells herself that she can do this, that she has to do this.

  Rubbing the fashionable shaped brown goatee on his chin, Kyle keeps looking her way, his eyes full of unbridled lust. Raina wishes she had superhuman powers so she could put up a force barrier between her and the bearded sleaze. Hurry up, Scott! When she feels his knee touch her thigh, she swears that she actually must have superpowers; that’s the only explanation she can think of for her being able to keep from breaking the man’s arm.

  When Scott finally returns, she wants to attach herself to him like a suction cup but remains perfectly still. Sneaking a quick peek up, the look in his eyes conjures up a slew of uneasiness. It’s obvious that something’s off. His tone is quiet as he continues the deep conversation he’s engrossed in with Marc. The way the trafficker looks at her makes her blood run cold.

  “It’s settled then,” Marc proclaims, loudly clapping his hands as a satisfied, arrogant smile curves his lips, “let’s eat.”

  Scott’s gaze penetrates her, and she looks up. His glance attempts to appear calming, but he crashes and burns miserably. Swallowing hard, her eyes beg for an explanat
ion. Her plea is answered directly.

  “Like I said, she stays with me. I will accompany her to the bid.”

  “She’s in trusted hands with us, Mr. Styles,” Marc tries to assure Scott.

  Trusted hands? Me? Oh, hell no! He better not be talking about me!

  “She stays with me,” Scott states firmly, “the buyer interested wants her pure. With all due respect, I have trust issues with anyone other than myself. Your buyer can make an offer, but until he outbids mine, the girl stays with me.”

  Marc’s amused glance rests on Raina, “Very well.” He brings his scotch to his lips, the smile hidden behind the rim as he takes a sip sends shivers down her spine.

  “What the hell happened in there?” Lawson yells, the depth of anger in his tone causing Raina to cringe and scoot back further on the ridiculously expensive couch. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he continues his tirade, “How did the deal change gears like that?”

  “Apparently his best buyer has a thing for redheads,” Scott spits out, his agitation mounting, “agreeing to the bid was the only way to keep the op.” Scott turns to Raina, “I would’ve pulled you out in a second if I didn’t think you would agree to this.”

  “You made the right decision, Scott. If I knew the deal was in jeopardy, I would have told you to do exactly what you did,” Raina tells him, placing her hand on his arm trying to soothe him. His self-directed fury is evident. She further assures him, “I wouldn’t do anything that would keep the girls from being rescued. Please, don’t feel badly about this.”

  “Do you even know what happens at the bids, Rain?” Scott asks vehemently, furious with how warped this has become, “has Kas told you anything about the girls during bids?”

  Chewing on her lip, she slowly shakes her head.

  “I didn’t think so. Dammit!”

  Lawson lays a strong hand on Scott’s shoulder, “We’ll figure out how to bypass that. Right now, I have to call Pierce.”

 

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