Exchange of Fire

by P. A. DePaul

  The truck swerved, then shot forward.

  “Christ,” he strangled, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

  Sandra lowered her head and traced the tip of her tongue over the bulging vein running from his sac up to the tip. Hell. Fucking. Yeah.

  Just when he wondered if it could get better, she opened her mouth and sucked on the head.

  “Christ. Fuck,” he yelled, and the SUV lurched forward, then slowed.

  She widened her mouth and took more of him in, pressing her tongue along the vein as she continued to move lower.

  “Oh, God. You’re so hot,” he whispered, raising his hips off the seat, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. After a pause, she slowly dragged her mouth up, using her teeth to lightly scrape against his skin.

  The SUV’s speed increased.

  Wrapping her hand around his balls, she rolled them in her palm while dipping her head back down his length again. Then lightly scraped on her way back up, sucking on his throbbing head.

  He gripped her polo and yanked it up, then unfastened her bra.

  She gripped him at the bottom and licked his whole length over and over like a Tootsie Pop.

  The truck slowed as he swirled a hand over her back, his circles increasing until his fingers encompassed her side.

  She continued to slide her mouth up and down, increasing the pressure with each stroke. Then her tongue flicked over his small opening before she swallowed him down again.

  He stopped the truck in the middle of the deserted road and put it in park. He dove his hand under her and latched on to a nipple. She increased her rhythm and groaned against him.

  “Oh, God. Do that again,” he whispered hoarsely, and tweaked her breast.

  She groaned and his cock jerked. She slid her hand under his sac and stroked the ridge behind it.

  “Hell, yeah.” He lifted his hips. Black spots danced on the edges of his vision. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

  In answer, she increased her pace, pressing on the sensitive spot.

  He moaned, cupping his free hand on the back of her head and flicking her nipple with the other.

  The tingle of the pending orgasm built at the base of his spine.

  As if sensing how close he was, she sucked harder, lowering and raising her mouth over his dick.

  The intense blaze grew to the point he couldn’t control it. He threw his head back onto the seat and tried to pull air in between his teeth.

  “Fuck.” He pressed on her head. “Oh, God.”

  She was like a goddess, drawing him in and out, using her tongue and pressure to push him over the edge.

  “Oh.” His breath caught. “I can’t hold back,” he gasped, every muscle in his body tightening.

  “I love you so much” ripped out of him as the first pulse of his orgasm erupted.

  ***

  Sandra glanced up toward the mountainous area where she estimated Romeo had set up camp and waved before skulking forward. If Cappy woke up from his power nap and discovered she had risked her life coming to Gradwick, he’d have her ass. But she had to talk to Grady.

  Magician’s words floated in her head, mostly in a jumble, but the overall message was clear. And one she couldn’t ignore. Team approves. Win him back.

  She jumped in the shadows and ran around the go-kart tracks. Rounding the corner, she let out a sigh of relief. Grady’s Range Rover still sat in his usual spot near the back door.

  Her burner phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and hurried to the employee entrance.

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you doing?” Romeo asked.

  “I have to talk to him.” Her voice caught at the end.

  “This is the stupidest thing you’ve done in the past few hours.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Cappy know you’re here?”

  She had purposefully worn her Gradwick polo shirt in hopes of blending in with—ah, perfect. A maintenance man opened the back door.

  She scooted forward and grabbed the handle.

  The guy blinked surprised eyes at her until she smiled wide and said, “Thanks for holding the door.”

  “Uh, no problem, ma’am.” He stumbled out of the entrance and she darted inside.

  “Gotta go,” she whispered into the phone, and hung up.

  Not wanting to risk a run-in with any of the staff, she kept her head down and hustled through the Arcade, past the central eatery, and into the Employees Only hallway. So far so good.

  Her heart thundered in her chest, and she rubbed moistened palms against her jeans. What the hell was she going to say? She had a few things she needed to tell him, but drew a blank on how to start.

  Damn. She gripped the pendant on her necklace and prayed for strength, courage, and wisdom. She could use all the help she could get.

  She scurried past Security and paused outside Grady’s door. No sound seemed to be coming from inside. Good enough.

  She turned the handle.

  ***

  Grady heard the door open and groaned. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d woken up from the most erotic yet terrifying dream. I love you so much! still rattled in his brain. He loved her? Son of a bitch. When had that happened? His pulse raced, and his dick felt like it was bending in half in his jeans.

  He needed to get rid of whoever had entered so he could get himself under control.

  The rustling of clothing let him know the person had approached the couch. He pulled the pillow off his face and lifted his head. His blood froze, and too many emotions at once skittered down his spine.

  Stalling to give his limbic system a second to calm down, he swung his legs to the floor. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  Sandra paused, a flash of uncertainty stealing over her beautiful face. “Did you already forget my former occupation?”

  “Trying to, but obviously not succeeding.” He swiped a hand over his eyes, then tunneled it into his hair. He couldn’t look at her yet. Everything inside hurt just hearing her sweet voice. “Is breaking and entering another one of your specialties?”

  Her breath caught. “Infiltration’s more Talon’s area of expertise, but I’m very adept when I need to be.”

  Unexplainable rage tripped through his system and he finally met her eyes—her puffy eyes. Whatever. “Talon,” he sneered. “Is your lapdog with you?”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she peered at him as if he was one fry short of a Happy Meal. “Lapdog? He’s back at the house. Why do you call him my lapdog?”

  “As if you don’t know.” At the sound of Talon’s name, his cock had deflated, allowing him to finally stand. “Come on. You’re not that clueless.” He motioned to encompass her whole gorgeous body. “A woman of your training and acting ability? You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  The puzzled expression deepened, her lips pursing with the action.

  Bits of his dream filtered into his head, and he forced himself to stare at something other than her mouth. “Whatever. Why are you here? In one of Gradwick’s polos, no less. I thought I made it very clear you’re not welcome anymore.”

  Her face reddened and a sheen of tears moistened her eyes.

  Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it, he kept repeating, trying to harden his heart. It still thumped in pain anyway.

  The three-headed spiral dragon winked under the fluorescent lights, helping to remind him that he didn’t know her at all.

  She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I came to apologize.”

  He held up a hand, willing it to remain steady and not reveal the trembling inside. “I don’t want to hear it. Nothing you say is going to convince me to forgive you.”

  Pain lanced across her features, and her hazel eyes appeared more vivid behind the watery tears. “It wasn’t all an act, you know,” she whispered, holding his gaze.

  Grady couldn’t stop the sarcastic laugh. “Could that be any more cliché? You expect me to fall for one of the old
est stories? Do you have so little respect for me?”

  He paced away from her, trying to control his raging emotions. One minute he wanted to sweep her in his arms and kiss her senseless; the next, he wanted to lash out and hurt her as badly as she had him.

  “Scoff all you want.” She followed his steps.

  He couldn’t take being so close to her. Addicting feminine scents like shampoo, regardless of the brand, wafting from her hair and the smell of soap on her soft skin drilled into his head, causing his shattered heart to long for her return. No. Have some respect for yourself. He moved away.

  “I may be a cliché,” she continued, the tears now tracking down her cheeks, “and I admit I withheld the truth about my past, but I was trying to keep you safe.”

  Grady clenched his hands together. “Does this look like I’m safe? Even though it’s almost closing time, there’re supposed to be hundreds of people out there, celebrating the holiday. Do you hear laughter? Kids squealing? Anything at all?”

  Her eyes studied the carpet.

  “And what about that nonsense in town earlier?”

  Her gaze whipped up to his.

  “I got questioned by the police for that. They were looking for details to help them understand why two FBI special agents would suddenly appear in town, putting you in their custody because of a drug dealer. What the fuck, Sandra?” He gripped his hips. “Does that sound like you ‘kept me safe’?”

  She covered her mouth. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I never even thought about the police coming to you.”

  He unclenched his jaw. “Yeah, well, they did.” He held her gaze, hoping to make her sweat and worry about what he told them. He finally said, “Don’t worry, I played dumb.”

  Her head snapped back like he’d slapped her. “Not once in all of this did I ever doubt your trustworthiness. I knew you would keep my secrets, despite how you felt about them.”

  Damn it. Why did her avid belief in his character feel so fucking good? He needed to head this train off before he jumped on board and begged her to give him a chance. To allow him to get to know the real her.

  “Grady, I know you think I targeted you by randomly picking you out of a magazine, but that’s not true.”

  “So you didn’t find me that way?”

  “Yes, but it was a miracle that even had me reading that issue. I mean, what’s the possibility that the only English-language magazine a small-town drugstore in Mexico carried would be Civilian Life? An older issue, at that. Your issue. Fate. That’s the only explanation I have. I was meant to read your article and run here. To you.”

  Whatever. “I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said coldly, crossing his arms.

  She winced, averting her gaze.

  “Weren’t you about to run when I stopped you in the park?”

  She lifted her chin, her blurry eyes snapping with a bit of her old fire. Shit, why did he have to notice how much that fire still turned him on?

  “I already explained to you how I thought my leaving would draw the assassin away.”

  This was getting him nowhere but dizzy with all his conflicting emotions. This conversation was too much, too soon. “I’ve got a ton of things to do before I leave for the night. Should I ask Gibson to escort you out?”

  Regret and pain crossed her face. “That’s not necessary. I just wanted to apologize.”

  “Noted.”

  She stared at him, her eyes raking him from top to bottom. Too many expressions and flashes passed for him to begin to label them. She pivoted on her heel and strode out the door, her head held high as she pulled his door firmly shut.

  He grabbed the stapler off his desk and threw it against the wall.

  Chapter 33

  “The rain should hold off until about four o’clock today. If you have any outside plans for the holiday, I’d suggest you get ’em in early.”

  Grady leaned forward in the driver’s seat and peered up. Thick gray clouds blanketed the sky, confirming the radio announcer’s prediction.

  “Just wait until after two,” he muttered, thumping back in the seat and rubbing at the corner of one eye. He had kicked everyone out of the center around nine last night, unwilling to risk one more person showing up to further bomb his day. The second he’d gotten home, he hadn’t done much more than kick his boots off and drop onto his mattress. Blessedly, he managed to score about eight hours of solid sleep.

  He passed the road that would take him down into the valley where Gradwick was located, supposedly not needing to bring anything. Doreen had assured him the farm had plenty of sports equipment and all kinds of other activities to keep the kids occupied.

  Should be interesting.

  Sandra would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing the kids enjoying the fresh outdoors. The sentiment popped, unbidden, into his head, hardening his stomach. Damn it. He didn’t want to think about her right now. He rubbed his chest. How could he just discover he had fallen in love with a person he hadn’t really dated? And why in the hell did yesterday’s revelations and the blowup afterward make him feel like he’d just experienced a breakup?

  A sharp pain stabbed his heart. It was worse than that, actually; the future he had fantasized about no longer existed.

  He turned onto Doreen’s road and groaned. Plastering a smile on his face as if his entire world hadn’t turned to shit was the last thing he felt like doing. He still hadn’t figured out how to answer the “Where’s Sandra?” question he knew he’d hear at least a hundred times from the kids and adults.

  Sandra hadn’t just ripped his heart out; she’d dumped a clusterfuck in his lap—multiple ways over. If he didn’t believe in supporting this cause so much, he’d turn the Range Rover around and bury himself in the center.

  He glanced at the clock: 10:28 a.m. Another half hour before the event began. Oh boy. Hopefully, he could immerse himself with the setup so he wouldn’t have a chance to think about Sandra or the heavy weight making it hard to breathe easily.

  He paused at the bottom of the steep dirt driveway and exhaled.

  “Only four hours of hell. You can do this.”

  The Range Rover had all kinds of sensors positioned throughout that would automatically change it into four-wheel drive if needed, so he didn’t worry about handling the ride. After pulling out of a third pothole, he began to worry how others would fare, though.

  After he cleared a sharp bend, a wide-open vista greeted his eyes. The driveway smoothed and he had no trouble pulling in beside a large red dually truck near the barn. He hopped out and inhaled the fresh air. The scents filling him were different from what he typically breathed on his portion of the mountains. A freshly mowed meadow stretched for acres. The split-rail and barbed-wire fence penned in quite a few heads of cattle and horses. To the side of the barn, a smaller fenced-in area held a pair of mules and a chicken coop.

  The farmhouse seemed to be the central fixture between the meadows, forest of trees, multiple barns, and stables. None of the structures screamed We have gobs of money, but they were definitely well cared for and maintained.

  “Well, don’t you look handsome,” Doreen McKenna called, sauntering in his direction from the stables.

  He glanced down at his khaki cargo shorts, green T-shirt with the word MARINES as well as the corps logo, and his old pair of combat boots. “I’m hardly a fashion statement,” he replied, adjusting the Carolina Panthers cap on his head. “But thank you anyway.”

  He had debated this morning whether to wear a Gradwick polo, but decided in the end to go casual. Experience taught him anything could happen in the great outdoors. With a group of kids who didn’t have much experience on a farm, let alone with live animals, he figured it was better to stay casual.

  Doreen obviously had a different point of view. Ho boy. One glance told him he’d have to stay on his toes to escape whatever scheme she had hatched this time to hook him. Her denim shorts bordered on being classified as a bikini bottom, and the cherry-red tank top molded against her ample ches
t. The bra underneath worked overtime to push her breasts up and form a deep valley of cleavage. She had curled her normally straight chocolate brown hair and clipped one side up with a big red flower.

  The only two things sensible about her appearance were her work boots and foregoing makeup. Not that she needed the stuff. She had unblemished skin and a cute row of freckles bridging her nose.

  The green tractor parked on the other side of the barn grumbled to life. Her father put it in first gear and slowly rumbled forward. A flatbed trailer hitched to the back dutifully followed along as the man headed down the driveway.

  Grady gave the man a two-finger salute when he drove by, and her father returned it with a small smile. The thick leather skin and deep tan spoke of the amount of time he spent in the sun, taking care of the farm. His John Deere cap appeared worn, and his jeans had long since lost that crisp look, but the solid gray T-shirt framed a muscular physique and showed he wasn’t afraid of hard work. Grady had a lot of respect for the guy.

  “He’s going to wait at the bottom for anyone who can’t or doesn’t want to try making it up the driveway.”

  Grady breathed out. One problem down. “The kids’ll love that.” He attempted a smile as he scanned the land. “Has Cecilia arrived yet?”

  “She called to let me know she’s on the way. Said she’ll have the food going not too long after she gets here.” Doreen shoved the tips of her fingers into her front pockets—how they fit, Grady hadn’t a clue. “I told her to plan on serving around noon. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Fine with me.”

  Doreen dipped her chin and peered up at him through her lashes. “So . . . where’s your sidekick?”

  And so it begins. “If you mean Sandra, she can’t make it. It’s just me today.”

  A grin spread across her face and her eyes brightened. Thrusting her breasts out, she said slowly, “Really. Sorry to hear that.” She traced a finger down his forearm. “Don’t worry, we can handle this together.”

  Grady tried to hide his cringe. Handle this together? Suck a duck.

  “Grady!” a small voice cried.