Hot Target

by April Hunt

  Unwilling to tear his eyes away from her glittering green gaze, he felt around the edge of the tub until he grabbed the foil packet. Fingers wet and slick, he ripped into the package. The condom blasted from the wrapper, hitting him square in the face before plopping into the water.

  Shock froze him a split second, followed by the stinging pain. “Holy hell.”

  Rachel’s soft giggle slowly turned to full-blown laughter. “Did the condom just hit you in the eye?”

  “And now I’m freakin’ blind!” Blinking furiously, Logan willed the tears to dry up and his eyes to focus, but the harder he tried, the more his frustration built.

  “Stop and let me see.” Chuckling, Rachel’s hand slid over his face, soft and gentle as she cupped his cheek and tilted his head up.

  Her oval face slowly came into view. Her cheeks, pink from the warmth of the hot tub, were arched high in a beautiful smile. And her hair, hanging in damp auburn waves, fell in soft ringlets off her bare shoulders.

  She took his breath away.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous, darlin’.”

  “Says the man who can’t see,” Rachel teased, her smile widening.

  “I can see just fine now.” His eye still stung like a son of a bitch, but hell if that would stop him from being with her. He anchored an arm around her waist, holding her close, and searched the bottom of the hot tub for the offending rubber. “Where’s that damn—aha!”

  He plucked it out of the water only to have Rachel take it from his fingers. “Maybe I should do the honors this time…to make sure everyone keeps their eyes in their sockets.”

  Logan’s chuckle was cut off by a long groan as she rolled the condom onto his length. He’d made a damn fool of himself, but his dick sure hadn’t softened. Sliding his hand back between her legs, he realized it hadn’t dampened her arousal any either.

  “Where were we before I got blindsided?” Logan pushed his hips into her hand.

  “Right about”—Rachel hovered over him before sinking onto his cock in one drop of her hips—“here.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Gripping her thighs, he eased her into a slow rocking motion that made them both groan. They fit perfectly. Like a dream. And unlike last time, he wasn’t about to let her slink away after.

  It wasn’t long before her muscles tightened around him like a vise. His cock throbbed, pulsing. His balls ached with an impending release. Sliding his hand between their bodies, he brushed his fingers against her clit.

  Rachel erupted in a powerful cry, her trembling body conjuring his own release. They picked up the pace, thrusting and gliding through the pleasure until the fierce waves gentled.

  Logan brushed a series of kisses over Rachel’s bare shoulder, smiling with the knowledge that she sounded as winded as him. “I hope you realize that I’m not letting you sneak away this time.”

  “If I tried, I’d probably slip on the water and fall on my rear end.” Rachel chuckled nervously.

  Logan didn’t want any miscommunication. He trapped her chin between his fingers and held her attention hostage. “After this is all over, after we find Carly and make sure she’s safe, I want to see how far we can go with this.”

  Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, Rachel whispered, “This?”

  “Us. You and me. I’m not hiding anything anymore, Rachel. I’ve wanted this…you…for a long time, and I’m hoping that’s what you want too.” Logan’s chest felt heavy and light all at the same damn time. He kissed Rachel again, unable to stop touching her. As he shifted their bodies closer, his cell rang.

  “Fuck.” Logan groaned. “I got to—”

  “Go. Get it.”

  He missed Rachel’s body the second she lifted off him, but he hustled out of the water, catching a glimpse of her bare ass as she followed him and grabbed two towels from the bathroom. He reached the phone at the same time that she covered her gorgeous body.

  “What have you got for us?” Logan asked in lieu of a greeting.

  “About damn time you answered. Busy getting a massage or something, cowboy?” Charlie huffed on the other end.

  “Or something.” Logan chuckled. “Update me.”

  “Interesting little tidbit about Rachel’s cell mates…they’ve all been released.”

  Logan put the phone on speaker and nodded Rachel over. “They’ve all been released?”

  “Every single one of them, from those who’d been charged with drug possession to prostitution. No bond hearing. No little chitchats in the judge’s chambers. The charges were simply dropped as if they never existed, which means—”

  “They have a guardian angel who happens to be pretty high on the food chain,” Logan finished.

  “Or who has control over someone who is. I’ve been trying to tie the brothel to a property, but it hasn’t been easy. Instead of a name, it’s linked to a line of dummy corporations. I’ll be able to narrow it down eventually, but Carly’s not going to have that kind of time.”

  “But your gut’s whispering a specific name, isn’t it?” Rachel asked.

  “It is,” Charlie admitted. “I don’t have the proof yet, but I’ll go back to my original hair color if Dean Carson isn’t involved in some way. And by some way, I mean with his grimy convict paws all over it.”

  Logan dwelled on Charlie’s hunch. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “He’s the owner of that new casino that opened on the strip, Sinful Players, along with a few others, a handful of nightclubs, and a couple of apartment complexes. And according to Carly’s tax records, she’s not only employed at Sinful Players, but she lives in one of the employee suites.”

  “Is this news to you?” Logan glanced to Rachel’s shocked expression, disappointed that she’d slipped back into her dress.

  Rachel’s brow furrowed. “I knew she changed apartments because of issues with noisy neighbors, but I didn’t know she’d moved into a hotel, or that her public relations position was with one of the casinos.”

  Rachel’s mouth opened and closed before she nibbled on her lower lip, deep in thought. “Carly’s new boyfriend’s name is Dean.”

  Logan didn’t like the sudden change of direction—for all their sakes. “Would you recognize him if you saw a picture?”

  Rachel nodded. “She sent me one of them at some kind of charity event last month.”

  “Charlie?”

  “Already texting you,” Charlie announced.

  Five seconds later, Logan’s cell pinged with the new notification. He brought the image up on the screen and slid it toward Rachel. “Look familiar?”

  “That’s him. I don’t remember Carly ever telling me his last name, but that’s definitely the new boyfriend.”

  Logan’s gut twitched. “So Carly’s new boyfriend isn’t only her landlord and her boss, but probably the owner of the drug brothel.”

  “This entire situation’s getting worse by the second,” Rachel admitted worriedly.

  “Yeah, babe, it is.” Logan grabbed his shorts and tugged them on. “Do me a solid, Charlie, and get a set of wheels delivered to our hotel. And we’re going to need two sets of undercover duds—one for sleuthing and one for a swanky night out.”

  Charlie’s silence spoke volumes.

  “You got something to say, Sparks?”

  “Am I on speakerphone still?”

  Logan locked eyes with Rachel. Her frown dipped lower as she addressed Charlie. “You don’t need to waste your breath. There’s no way I’m staying behind.”

  Charlie’s voice softened. “Hon, I know you’ve come a long way, and Carson may not be Fuentes, but he hasn’t gotten where he is in Vegas’s underground by being a pussycat.”

  “Which is why Logan’s here. We have no idea what kind of shape Carly’s going to be in, and that means that I need to be there too.”

  “Rachel can handle it,” Logan added. He spoke to Charlie, but his eyes never left the woman standing next to him. Rachel stared him dead in the eye, gifting him a
small smile of appreciation.

  On the other line of the phone, Charlie sighed. “Fine, but know that your ball sack’s on the line. Penny’s gone downright feral. Any payback against the male persuasion she can dish out, she will.”

  “And what exactly did the male species do now?”

  “Made morning sickness an actual thing.”

  Logan grinned, imagining the fiery redhead on the warpath. “Tell her all payback should be aimed at her husband. He’s the one that helped her create that little dictator in residence.”

  Charlie belted out a laugh. “Don’t think she hasn’t. I’ll email the two of you what I have on the den and the casino, and I’ll keep working on uncovering more links. If Carson owns one hole-in-the-ground business, chances are that he owns a hell of a lot more. Be careful. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “Our night-on-the-town packages?” Logan wanted to make sure the pink-haired operative didn’t forget their undercover gear.

  “Everything will be there within the half hour,” Charlie promised. “And I’m also going to help Stone formulate some kind of backup, because as capable as you are, Dean Carson’s underground network is nothing to sneeze at.”

  “Sounds good, Char, thanks.”

  Charlie disconnected the call. Logan tried wrapping his head around all the information. If Carly really had gotten mixed up with Dean Carson, chances were high that they would need more than two pairs of hands.

  Chapter Six

  After two hours of lying low, Rachel inspected her new and improved hair from left to right, angling her head to look at it from different vantage points. Maybe she’d taken the undercover thing a degree too far, but nothing could be done about it now.

  About seven inches of wavy auburn hair currently lay on top of an empty Sweet Mahogany Clairol box, leaving Rachel with a stylishly shagged and shoulder-length cut. The style lightened her head by a good few pounds, or at least that’s how it felt.

  Adding to the drastic transformation was Charlie’s sleuthing outfit.

  The black leather pants clung to her legs like a second skin, making them look miles longer than reality, and the dark, curve-hugging tank left little to the imagination. If this was the operative’s idea of low-key, Rachel dreaded seeing what she’d chosen for their appearance at Sinful Players.

  “Here’s goes nothing.” Unable to procrastinate any further, Rachel tucked her burner cell into her cleavage and opened the door.

  One step and she collided with a rock-solid chest. She bounced back, off balance and arms flailing. Logan quickly settled her back on her feet—and against him.

  “I realize I’m known for making the ladies swoon, but that has to be a new record. I don’t even think you had the chance to lay eyes on me,” Logan’s deep voice teased.

  “Guess you’re growing more potent.”

  Rachel braved a glance up, and holy hotness. Dressed in a Henley, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark jeans, Logan epitomized masculine perfection. Him in any outfit—cowboy attire, camo, or a glittery ballerina costume—put women aged sixteen years to eighty at risk of drowning in a puddle of their own drool.

  Logan’s gaze traveled down the length of her body, lingering on her legs before traveling back up in a lazy stroll. As his gray eyes darkened, his grip on her hips tightened. “You look fucking incredible, darlin’. I don’t know whether to thank Charlie or strangle her. Keeping my head on straight is going to be one hell of a challenge.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes at the exaggeration. Nothing took Logan’s attention away from a mission, but the compliment still conjured a little stomach flutter.

  “You cut your hair.” Logan tucked a strand of now-dark-brown hair behind her ear. The lock stubbornly bounced back into position along her cheek.

  “Uh. Yeah. I may have gotten a little carried away.” Any concern about her self-imposed new haircut was melted away by the heated look in his eyes. “You like it?”

  His fingers slipped into the shortened strands, brushing her cheek in the process. “I love it. I mean, I loved the long locks too, but this suits you. It’s spunky. Edgy.”

  She cocked a dark eyebrow, fighting not to laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called edgy. Maybe before Honduras, but definitely not since.”

  Rachel quieted. But unlike at other times, mentioning her time in captivity didn’t paralyze her. Steady and sure, her heart continued at a slow trot, and each breath eased in and out through her lungs without so much as a quick catch.

  A slow smile spread on Logan’s lips. “Maybe your edginess was in hibernation, waiting until you were ready to take another whirl.”

  Rachel brushed her hand over Logan’s stubbled jaw and into his own freshly trimmed hair. “Or maybe the right person needed to come along and coax it out.”

  “I like the sound of that too.” Logan slowly eased her into a soft kiss.

  Resting her palm on his chest, she melted against him, hating the eventual break in contact. As much as she’d like to stand there and kiss him all night, they were saddled with a time constraint. Two o’clock in the morning didn’t mean much in Sin City, but it could mean everything to Carly.

  “We’re going to have to push pause and continue this later,” Rachel teased, hearing Logan groan.

  “You’re right. Let’s go bring Carly home where she belongs.” Palming the small of her back, he grabbed the bag holding their casino clothes and guided her downstairs to where a black SUV sat out front. He held her door open, his eyes ogling her legs as she slid into the passenger seat. “Remind me never to get on Charlie’s bad side.”

  “Why’s that?” Rachel grinned, already knowing where his mind had gone.

  “Because I hate to think about what she would’ve dressed you in if I had pissed her off.” Logan dropped a kiss on her mouth before coming around to the driver’s side.

  His stride remained easy, but there wasn’t a doubt that he was aware of everything happening around them, from the gathering tourist group on the right side of the sidewalk to the group of twentysomething men about to break out into a scuffle. Everyone at Alpha Security did it—including Charlie. They watched without staring and catalogued everything without writing it down. Having spent so much time at Alpha, even Rachel was more aware of her surroundings.

  Logan pulled their SUV into traffic, jumping out in front of a cab.

  Rachel turned her attention to the street slowly passing them by. They’d gone over their plan a few dozen times, and with each one she’d grown more anxious and formed more questions.

  Logan’s hand slid over her knee.

  “You okay?” He alternated glances between her and the traffic in front of them, concern tilting his mouth into a frown. “I can turn around and drop you off back at the room…do this on my own.”

  “No. I was just thinking.” Rachel’s heart warmed at his concern, and knew that she would’ve felt different about the suggestion a few short days ago. But with Logan it wasn’t about a lack of faith in her abilities or her coping mechanisms. He simply wanted to protect her in general, not because she wasn’t strong enough to deal.

  “About?”

  “I think the reason Carly told me the location of the bag was because she knew she wasn’t going be at the brothel when I got there,” Rachel admitted painfully. “She’d run out of options, and that worries me, Logan. She’d never put someone in danger if she thought there was another choice.”

  Logan nodded, face grim. “I think you’re probably right. But I also think she called you because she knew if anyone could find a way out of a shit-storm, it would be you. We’ll find that damn bag and get whatever’s inside to the proper authorities…and then we’ll bring her home. Trust me?”

  Rachel covered his hand with hers, this time giving him the reassuring squeeze. “I trust you more than anything or anyone.”

  And she did.

  Logan nodded, and his throat worked overtime as he swallowed an unspoken emotion. There wasn’t a single reappea
rance of his crooked smirk the rest of their drive to the Vegas suburb where the raid had taken place. Twenty minutes later, Logan pulled the SUV to the side of the road, a few houses from the shut-down brothel.

  Wooden planks boarded up the broken windows, and yellow police tape covered the front door. The place would have looked far from inviting even without questionable people loitering around the block.

  Logan’s jaw hardened as he glared at the nondescript brick house. “What the hell were you thinking going into a place like that alone?”

  “It’s really not as bad as it looks,” Rachel lied. The falsehood earned her Logan’s sharp glare. “Okay, so it’s pretty bad.”

  “The raid was a goddamn blessing,” Logan growled.

  “I would’ve wished it happened a few minutes later…like after I’d gotten my hands on Carly’s little black bag. At least then maybe I’d have deserved getting shot at.”

  “No one deserves getting shot at. On second thought, some people do, but you’re definitely not one of them.”

  They climbed out of the SUV and headed down the sidewalk. Off in the distance a dog barked. On the left a light post buzzed and flickered before blinking out.

  Guiding her with a light hand on the elbow, Logan used his other to pull his gun free. “Let’s go around the rear. And stay behind me.”

  The back steps creaked as they climbed onto the rickety porch. Logan yanked the police tape away and leaned his shoulder against the door itself. It gave way easily, and Rachel flicked on her flashlight.

  No one had bothered to clean the place up after the raid. Trash and party remnants littered the floor and counters. A small creature scurried away from her flashlight beam. Rachel tried not thinking about it as she swept the light across the room, finally finding the intake vent along the far wall. “Right there. She said it was the largest vent just outside the kitchen.”

  Rachel dropped to the ground and pulled out the small screwdriver they’d brought with them while Logan watched their backs. It didn’t take much effort. With one screw out, the grate collapsed onto the floor. She aimed the light inside and peered around. “I don’t see anything. It’s just one big hole that goes to the basement.”