He rubbed the side of his face. He liked Bliss. She was smoking hot, smart, and she had...gumption. It was the only word he could think of for her. She was a fighter—quick on her feet and fierce when he pushed the wrong buttons. Once she’d pulled herself together, she’d actually been very useful looking over the footage at the guard shack.
There were plenty of guys who got involved with clients. In fact, the guys who did bodyguard work often called the gigs booty calls. It was a line he’d never crossed. But Bliss technically wasn’t the client. She was...a source? It was more personal than that, but she was firmly in the gray area. Travis didn’t like the area where lines blurred. It was an act firmly in the gray area that had screwed up his life forever, which was why he stuck to black and white. The letter of his orders. Doing exactly what he was paid to do. That way there was no confusion. But Bliss?
He was trying to come up with a reason to not act on the attraction pulling him ever closer to her. If he didn’t, he was pretty sure they’d fall into bed together at some point. Was that a bad thing?
“We’ve already established where you are with the idea of sex toys.” She chuckled and turned away from him when he didn’t continue the conversation. What was he supposed to say? He’d been an ass and admitted it. Again.
“Hold on, I’m not entirely against them.” He was plagued by the images of Bliss and a couple of the items he’d seen in the store. Some of them he wasn’t even sure what they did, but she would know. And he was willing to bet she’d enjoy it, too.
Fuck it. Why not put it out there and let her make the call?
“Had a change of heart, have you?” She chuckled.
“You’ve made me rethink things.”
“Well, then my job here is done.” She laughed, and all he could do was stare. Her bracelets jangled as she pushed her hair back. She’d taken her hoodie off. She wore a loose, sleeveless black top that hinted at and hid what was underneath. There was a hint of ink on the back of her shoulder. He couldn’t make it out, but he wanted to know what it was.
“If you were going to sell me one thing in the store, what would you recommend?” His groin tightened, and he could feel the throb of arousal in his balls.
“To use on yourself? Or a partner?”
“They make stuff for guys?”
“Oh yeah.” She turned and snagged something out of the top brown box. “This is a male masturbation toy. The end looks like lips and the inside is supposed to mimic the way a mouth feels if you use it with a little lube. It’s a popular item.”
His mouth dried up and he had to swallow to get his vocal chords working. He was not even remotely interested in buying something to jack off with.
“What about on a woman?” He cleared his throat.
“Depends on who you’re buying for. What’s your girlfriend, or wife, like?”
“I’m single.”
“Hm. Okay, then...” She squinted at the ceiling for a moment.
“What would you pick?”
“For myself?” She blinked at him, and if he wasn’t mistaken her cheeks were slightly pink yet again.
“Well, what would you want your partner to use on you?”
“That’s personal.” She grabbed a stack of papers and fanned herself. “It’s really hot in here, isn’t it?”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve been dancing around the fact we’re interested in each other most of the morning.” He eased back in the chair, but it didn’t allow any extra room in his jeans like he’d hoped.
Bliss’ blush reached from her neckline to her hairline now.
They were consenting adults, right? After he found Wendy there wouldn’t be any gray area. No uncertainty.
“Uh...well...I, um...”
“I’m not good at talking, and I’m worse when it comes to women. I figure the best thing for me is to be direct. If that’s a problem, tell me now. You can also tell me to fuck off, if you like.”
Her chest rose and fell at a slightly accelerated rate. He would know. He’d done a little study of her breasts earlier. Double Ds if he wasn’t mistaken, but he’d need a hands-on inspection to be certain.
“A bullet,” she said and turned to the monitor.
“A bullet?”
“Yes, and not the kind that come out of a gun, either.”
He opened the browser on his phone and went to the store’s site. It was better than wandering around the shop trying to figure out what the hell that was.
A bullet, huh?
She hadn’t told him off, so that was one good thing so far today.
Bliss kept her gaze straight ahead. Wendy’s gated community was three turns away. Bliss’ car was in the drive. In a matter of minutes Travis would drop her off and go do whatever commando-type thing he did to rescue people. Or something. She wasn’t sure what he would do, but her imagination supplied plenty of scenarios, some she wished would get out of her head.
“Heard anything yet?” She couldn’t shake the feeling that the freaking FBI should have been able to get information sooner. After all, wasn’t that how it worked on TV?
“No.”
“Why?”
“Reasons.” He turned the SUV into the community. The guard from earlier waved them in. From the looks of it, the guy had sucked a lemon since they last saw him.
“And those would be? How is the FBI even involved? I don’t understand.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Explain it to me.”
Travis drove all the way to Wendy’s house and put the truck in park. She turned to face him. If she had to make him understand, she would.
“She’s my sister. I want to know what to expect. I know you think I’m some weak, crying woman, but I had my moment. It’s over. I need to know if I should prepare our family for the worst. You don’t get it, but things haven’t always been easy with Wendy. Wendy...she tried to kill herself a couple of times in high school.”
Travis turned his head and stared at her with those unreadable eyes of his. Was she getting through to him? Did he maybe understand? She’d lay it out there for him from beginning to end if she thought it would help.
“There weren’t programs, support groups, or social media movements back then. College...we were just glad she survived it, to be honest. When she married Grayson, it was like we had a new version of her. Like...I don’t know, she had this real second chance. This depression, it’s high school all over again. She hasn’t been suicidal, thank God, but that’s what we’re afraid of. Our parents are still in denial about her depression right now, so if there’s no chance she’s still alive, I need to know so I can prepare them. Losing her...it’ll break their hearts.”
“If the guy I’m hunting took her, she’s still alive.”
“And if it was someone else?”
“We still have time.”
“You won’t tell me what happens to the girls.”
“No. You don’t need to know that.”
“But what if it happens to Wendy?”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just—”
His phone rang through the speakers, cutting off what he was about to tell her.
“Brooks, what did you—oh, Lali? Hi.” Travis produced a pad of paper from the center console and a pen. “Right... Okay... Compliance Systems, any chance that’s a current or past employer? ...God damn it, yes. I’m on my way now.”
“What? Did they find her?”
Travis ended the call and tossed the phone onto the dash with a clatter. He gestured at the passenger door.
“Get out,” he said.
“No.”
“Bliss, I’m not fucking around. You need to get out now.”
“I’m not getting out of this truck. You can haul me out, but I’ll follow you. She’s my sister. I’ve always been there for her, it’s always been me picking up her pieces. If you find her, do you know what to do for her? Do you know how to handle her?”
She was pret
ty sure she could hear Travis’ teeth grinding. They stared at each other for a moment.
“Fuck.” He sat back in his seat. “One, you stay in the god damned truck. Two, you do what I say or I’ll damn well handcuff you and put you in the back. Three, keep your head down.”
“That sounds kinky.”
“This isn’t a game, Bliss.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Drive. I will do exactly what you tell me to, I promise.” She buckled her seatbelt. “Where are we going?”
“Out of town a ways. The plates we got were stolen. They belonged to a guy in New Mexico. They hit on something when they cross-referenced the make and model of the car to the employee records at Compliance Systems.”
“And? Should we call the police? Or what?”
“I’ll call my backup. When we have Wendy, we’ll call the cops in to make the arrest.” He pressed the accelerator so hard they shot forward and the tires squealed.
“Then what?”
“Then you and Wendy get your lives back.”
Travis snatched his phone before it scuttled across the dash to her side and made another call. She could barely focus on his side of the conversation. How would they find Wendy? Would she be okay? Or would they be picking up pieces? Should Bliss even be part of this? There was no way she was about to back out now she’d convinced Travis to bring her, but she had to wonder if it was the smartest place for her. Regardless, her points about Wendy and needing her were true.
“Fuck.” Travis tossed the phone into a cup holder and gripped the wheel with both hands.
“What?”
“They can’t leave for an hour. God damn it.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re here on another job and can’t leave their client.”
“Oh. So, what are we doing?”
“I’m going in. You will stay in the truck.”
“What if you need help?”
“I can handle myself.”
“But, what if you get into trouble? Should I call the cops after a little while?”
“Cops will just get in my way.”
“Okay, but—”
“If you’re going to question the way I do things, get out now.”
Bliss clamped her lips together and held onto the door. Travis pushed the SUV faster entering the ramp onto I-15 headed out of Vegas. They passed the Speedway and kept going. The barren landscape spread out all around them, broken up only by rocks, shrubs, and the odd assortment of trash. Every so often his phone issued navigation instructions, leading them further away from the interstate and anything resembling civilization. They passed the occasional dirt trail leading away from the old road, but were otherwise alone.
“Where are we?” she asked after they’d driven nearly half an hour in silence.
“Northeast of Vegas.”
“How close are we?”
“This should be our turn, here.” He nodded at yet another path leading away from the road. This one was gravel instead of dirt.
“Why aren’t you turning?” She craned her neck to look behind them.
“You don’t drive up to a kidnapper’s house and ask for your loved one back. That’s not how this works.”
She’d grown somewhat accustomed to Travis’ gruff nature of speaking, but now it was different. His voice was cold, nearly emotionless. He didn’t glance away from the road—he was completely focused. She didn’t know if she should be scared or impressed.
“What are you going to do?”
He slowed the SUV and checked the mirrors, peering behind them before pulling off the road onto a bit of clear ground.
“You’ll stay here. I’m going to have a look around.” He reached into the center console and removed not one, but two black handguns and an assortment of other things.
Bliss recoiled, pressing her back to the door. She’d never seen a gun in person, at least not out of a holster. It made sense that he’d have a firearm, and she didn’t want him to go into a dangerous situation without some sort of protection. But this was her life. Her boring, typical, normal life. These things didn’t happen to her.
“By yourself?”
“No, me and my army. Yes, by myself.” Travis slid one gun into the top of his right boot. He shrugged into a strange shoulder harness. The second gun went into a holster that rested just under his left arm.
By all accounts, Travis should be able to take care of himself. It wasn’t the story he’d told her about Egypt, it was the way he carried himself, the cool confidence, the deadly focus. Yet she couldn’t help worrying about him.
“Please be careful,” she said.
He stopped and stared at her from behind the aviators. Okay, having that full focus on her was way more intimidating when she couldn’t see his eyes. He had big and creepy down to an art, but she could remember what his gaze felt like with heat in it.
“I’ll bring your sister back.”
“Thank you. But be careful with yourself, too, okay?”
His brow wrinkled as if he didn’t understand her.
“Hand me that water in the door.” He pointed at the three bottles.
“Should I do anything? Call anyone?” She handed a bottle over.
“No. Keep the truck running”
“I’m not used to sitting around waiting on other people to fix things.”
“Be glad you don’t have to wait much longer.” He pushed his door open.
“Travis?” She reached across and touched his hand gripping the steering wheel.
He paused, one foot already out of the door.
“Seriously, be careful? Please?”
“Your brother-in-law isn’t paying me to be careful with myself. He’s paying me to get Wendy back.”
“Well I’m telling you to be careful.”
Again his brow wrinkled.
Were they even speaking the same language?
He pulled his leg back into the truck. His features softened, and she realized there was a lot less room between them now.
“I’ll be careful,” he said slowly.
She wanted to kiss those lips. It was a desire she’d been ignoring, but now, with only his mouth to focus on, she couldn’t deny the urge. He was dangerous and completely not her nice-guy type, but there was something about him that rubbed her the right way.
“Bliss?”
Wow, really nice lips.
“Yes?”
They weren’t thin like most men’s. Not that he had full, pouty lips either. They were...nice. Enough there to toy with, nibble on, but not draw all the attention to those two bits of flesh. They were the kind of lips a girl wanted to touch.
Travis’ hand cupped the back of her head and all thought ceased. She was keenly aware of the way his fingers caught in her hair, the jolt of electric arousal shooting through her body. He pulled her closer. She gasped the second before their mouths met. Her toes curled, and she reached for him, gripping his bicep and leaning into the kiss. He suckled her lower lip. His stubble scraped against her chin and cheek.
“Stay here,” he said.
She blinked, but he was already gone.
Holy crap.
Bliss wanted to kiss him again.
She pressed the lock button and wrapped her arms around herself. Travis was going to get Wendy back. Then she was going to kiss the daylights out of that man.
8.
What the hell?
Travis took a sip of water and peered at the house in the distance. He was getting closer, and he needed to stop thinking with his dick. Kissing Bliss had been...fantastic. And a terrible idea. She might not be paying him, but she was still a client. For now. Some guys might not be terribly bothered about bedding their temporary employer, but not Travis. The way he saw it, when he was brought into a situation it was always under great duress.
Bliss wasn’t thinking clearly. She was emotional, and he was the man there to fix her problems. It made sense she’d flirt with him. It was a common case of hero syndrome, or whatever his b
oss called it. Any other month, she wouldn’t look at him. A guy with his record didn’t get girls like her. But for this moment in time, she did. And it was fucking with his head.
He needed to find Wendy and get her out of here so the cops could do their job and put this bastard away. Then he could go back to his normal routine of catching bullets.
The FBI’s tech had a name for their serial killer.
Daniel Campbell. Fifty-four. He’d lived in and around Las Vegas for most of his life. He’d started out as an electrician before an accident ten years ago made an active lifestyle impossible. There was a string of minor charges against him for bar brawls, but otherwise nothing since his juvenile days, and those records were sealed.
The structure was a small stucco style house set in the foothills of Muddy Mountain. The terrain rolled and rose, painted a riot of color by the late-afternoon light, a bed of rocks and shrub that worked great for masking his approach. Getting away was another matter. He hoped Ethan and Mason showed up, or else he’d be hoofing it back to the truck, probably carrying Wendy. He’d done more under worse circumstances, but now he had Bliss to worry about. He should have made her stay put at the house, but when she argued her point so thoroughly, he couldn’t deny her.
Travis adjusted his path, aiming for the back part of the house. There was a large rock formation that could hide his approach and allow him to get closer without tipping Daniel Campbell off. Nearly twenty minutes later he was starting to sweat, but he could finally make out details of the house and surrounding property.
The gravel drive extended all the way to the house, and sitting in plain sight was the same late model Buick he’d seen on the security cameras driving out of Wendy’s gated community. The skin between Travis’ shoulder blades prickled. He drew his weapon and pulled out his cell phone, but there was no signal. Not even the ghost of a bar. He was on his own. It wasn’t the first time, but back-up in a hostage situation was always ideal.
He got as close as the rock cover would allow, and settled in to observe the residence. Daniel’s land was a long, narrow rectangle, stretching from the road all the way back to the mountain. Most of the shrub appeared to have been burned back at some point. A few scraggly bushes sat sentinel under the windows, but otherwise the property was quiet. Nothing stirred the curtains and there were no other signs of life.
Dangerous Attraction: Part One (Aegis Group) Page 6