Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series)

by Kristine Mason

  “I see we’re back to telling tall tales,” she said, then regretted her words when he dipped his head and loosened his hold on her hands.

  “If that’s what you want to think.”

  Damn it. Why couldn’t she take a compliment and believe it? She might have just met Ryan, but he was an honest and straightforward man. Today, he’d proven she could trust him with her life, so why couldn’t she trust herself? Why couldn’t she let go of those deep-rooted insecurities and believe that she was good enough to be here with him? Or work for CORE?

  “It’s not,” she said, recapturing his warm hands before he pulled away. “I’m sorry. Please understand. I never felt like I was part of CORE’s team. This was just another job my mom helped me land. At first, I loved it. Researching and brainstorming clues and leads…I loved the mystery and when I helped solve a case. I still do. But the assignments Ian gives me are boring, and I’ve been so scared of screwing up that I haven’t pushed for harder cases. I didn’t think I was good enough to partner up with any of the other agents and worried my inexperience would place one of us in danger. What’s funny? Last night, while I was pulling a burnt apple pie from my oven, I was already talking myself into reconsidering my future with CORE.”

  “That’d be a waste,” he said, lacing their fingers again. “But you make the decision that works best for you. Not your mom or anyone else. And, for the record, I might like to tell stories to tourists, but anything I’ve told you today was the truth. I am glad we met, and I am glad you’re with me during this.”

  “I’m glad we met, too.” Her throat tightened. “Thank you. I guess I need to work on myself. What you’ve said to me tonight is going to help me during those times when I’m back to feeling uncertain.”

  He let go of one of her hands, then touched her cheek. “You don’t need to work on yourself, there’s not a thing about you that I don’t like.”

  She melted inside. A few of the men she had dated had expressed that they’d liked her, one had even claimed to love her, but none of them had stirred her emotions as much as Ryan. No man had ever told her she was fine just the way she was, or had given her the confidence and courage to believe in herself. Despite what he’d said, she would still have to work on her insecurities—some things were hard to shake. On the days when those uncertainties crept to the surface, she’d remember this moment and draw strength from it. She’d never forget this strong handsome man and the gift he’d given her tonight. Hope for a brighter future.

  “Maybe I said too much?” he asked, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her cheek.

  “No, you said everything right.” Although comfortable with Ryan, awkwardness settled over her. She liked him, he liked her, and they were about to spend the night in a one-man tent. She should be thinking about her mom and Ian, and what they might be going through tonight, instead of selfishly dwelling on the mistakes she’d made, or about her career choices. And definitely not on sleeping with Ryan. “We’re leaving at dawn, right?”

  After giving her cheek a final caress, he pulled away. “Before that. If we’re ahead of Jackass, I want to keep it that way.”

  Jackass. She didn’t want to think about what Dante and the others planned to do to him, or her and Ryan’s part in his execution.

  Ryan pulled off his boots, then knelt and unzipped the tent. “We should head to bed. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting cold sitting out here.” He looked over his shoulder. “Unless you want to stay up and talk some more.”

  Her active mind had finally caught up with her tired body. She stifled a yawn. “No, I’m exhausted.” And chilled. She hoped the sleeping bag was warm enough that they wouldn’t have to depend on body heat. Their situation had forced them to become close, their surroundings required them to sleep together, creating a level of intimacy she wasn’t used to—like a one-night stand, minus the sex. Only she’d never slept with a man she’d just met, it simply wasn’t her style.

  She’d make an exception for Ryan, though. He was everything she looked for in a man. Strong, reliable, honest, smart and incredibly sexy. She loved the way he touched her, the roughness of his hands, the way his body had felt against hers and could picture them both naked and—

  Determined to be mature and pragmatic about their sleeping arrangements, and keep sex off her mind, she pulled off her boots, then crawled into the tent. Without the moon and stars, the interior was pitch black. She ran her palm along the tent’s floor. When her fingertips touched the sleeping bag, she moved her fingers along the seam, searching for the opening.

  “Hang tight,” he said. A second later, she heard the zipper give way. “All set.”

  She lay down and immediately realized there would be no way to avoid touching each other. The small tent should have been suffocating. Instead, being inside of it with Ryan brought her comfort and peace. And an incredible amount of warmth. “Geez, you’re hot,” she said, adjusting her body.

  “No need to sweet-talk me,” he said, with a chuckle. “I promise not to hog the sleeping bag.”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “I was referring to your body heat.” She snuggled closer, pressing her rear against him. “But you are kinda hot,” she said, then immediately blamed delirium and exhaustion for the out of character comment.

  “Only kinda?” With his arms inside the sleeping bag, he wrapped one around her, then moved her until her back was flush against him. “Well, that explains why the only female who will sleep with me is Sadie.”

  She laughed. “You’re such a liar.”

  “It’s true. Just ask her. Before you head back to Chicago, you’ll have to come over to my place. Since you missed Thanksgiving, I’ll bake you a turkey. You’ll have to make the gravy, though. I buy mine out of jar.”

  She’d forgotten all about Thanksgiving. “I’m sorry you missed spending the holiday with your family.” When he didn’t respond, she assumed he must have been more tired than he’d let on and had fallen asleep.

  A tree limb or rock was beneath the tent floor. The sleeping bag wasn’t thick enough to soften whatever she was lying on, so she scooted her body, hoping to find a soft spot. When her bottom backed into something harder, she froze. Butterflies rushed through her belly. She wanted to reach around and slide her hand along his thick length, but wasn’t bold enough. Besides, he was asleep, they both needed a shower and—what was wrong with her? They were on a mission to save her mom and Ian, and capture Jackass.

  The cold dose of reality should have eased her desire. But it didn’t. Instead, she pictured how Ryan had looked this morning, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and standing on the shore, water glistening off his tanned, muscular body.

  The zipper along his side slid free. The top of the sleeping bag moved. Cool air replaced his body heat as he started to rise.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, reaching blindly in the dark for him.

  “I’m not as tired as I thought, and don’t want to keep you awake.”

  Liar. “It’s okay, you know.”

  “What is?”

  “I like lying next to you, too,” she said, growing confident. They were both adults—clearly attracted to each other—and their bodies were reacting in a normal, healthy way.

  His warm breath suddenly fanned her lips. “But you might not like the things I was just thinking about.”

  If she moved an inch forward, she could kiss him and show him exactly what she’d been thinking about. “If it helps, I was remembering how you looked after you swam across the marsh. I don’t think I’ll ever look at boxers the same way.”

  He let out a husky groan and cupped the back of her head. “Not helping.”

  She gripped the front of his t-shirt. “So what will?” she asked, breathless and aching for him to kiss her. “This?” She brushed her lips along his, then sifted her fingers through his thick hair. “Or maybe this?” She’d gone this far, and wanting him to know—without a doubt—how much she wanted to kiss him, she gently nipped his lower lip wit
h her teeth.

  Chapter 14

  IN A HEARTBEAT, Ryan pinned her beneath him. Thank God layers of clothes and a sleeping bag separated him from taking what he wanted. And he wanted Lola. He hadn’t been lying—there wasn’t anything about her he didn’t like.

  “Tell me to stop,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t. At the same time, he hoped she would. Making out wasn’t usually a big deal, but Lola mattered to him. He liked her. While he didn’t do one-night stands, and knew kissing wouldn’t turn into sex, he also didn’t want to lead her on, or end up needing more from her than she could give him.

  She gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer, the tip of her nose touching his. “I can’t,” she said, her voice a sexy whisper. “But if you think this is a mistake, we could pretend nothing happened and go to sleep.”

  She’d given him an out he didn’t want. In return, he grazed his lips against hers. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want to be with you. I also don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage.”

  Her warm breath touched his lips as she let out a slight chuckle. “If I recall, I’m the one who mentioned how you looked in your boxers,” she said, running a hand down his back. “For the record, you’re more than kinda hot.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’re sweet.” She placed her lips on his jaw. “Strong.” She nudged her nose with his. “Sexy.”

  He captured her lips with a tenderness that belied the tension and urgency coursing through his body. His heart pounded hard as he held her cheek in one hand and tasted her. With a long, lingering kiss, he coaxed her mouth, took his time to learn what she liked. Savored the softness of her lips and skin, how her body fit so perfectly beneath his.

  He parted his lips, let them cling to hers. Their breath mingled as she gripped his back with one hand, his t-shirt bunching in her fist, then snaked her other hand through his hair. Her touch had his stomach tightening with primal need. His length grew impossibly harder. With the need to possess, to let her know how much he wanted her, he deepened the kiss, but held back from devouring her the way he craved to. He liked and respected Lola, and while he had definitely taken the lead, he needed her to show him that she desired this just as much.

  Then she curled her tongue against his.

  His control snapped. Still holding her cheek, he pushed his free hand through her hair, cupped her head, then intensified the kiss. She let out a throaty moan as their tongues swept together. That sexy hum, the way she clung to him, had him wishing he hadn’t started what they couldn’t finish. He wanted to strip her naked and taste every inch of her body.

  Although that wouldn’t and shouldn’t happen tonight, he’d do his damnedest to give her pleasure. Come tomorrow, their time together could end, and he might not have the chance to touch her again. She would return to Chicago and he’d be left with nothing but an unfulfilled fantasy of what could have been.

  Determined to not dwell on tomorrow and instead concentrate on the beautiful woman in his arms, he tore his mouth away, then dragged his lips along her throat. She arched her back, gripped his shirt tighter. Her breathing grew ragged as he pushed the flap of the sleeping bag aside and ran his palm over her breast. The thick sweatshirt shielded him from her soft skin, but not from taking her hardened nipple between his thumb and fingertip.

  She let out another groan, then forced his mouth back to hers. As he palmed her breast and worked her nipple, she held his head steady and kissed him with so much passion it made him ache. The need to bury himself inside her became too overwhelming to handle, so he ended the hottest kiss of his life before he embarrassed himself and came in his pants.

  “We should stop,” he said, breathing hard.

  “We should.” She peppered his jawline with sexy open-mouthed kisses. “But I don’t want to.”

  He crushed his mouth to hers to let her know that he didn’t want to stop, either. But the voice of reason nagged at him. Told him this wasn’t right, even if his body disagreed. She deserved better than a quickie in a tent in the middle of the Glades.

  He drew away again. “We really need to stop.”

  She let out a quiet sigh and ran her hand along his back until she came to the belt loop of his pants. “Yes, this tent is too small for what I want to do to you,” she said, tugging on the loop.

  “When this is over, you’ll need to shower and rest before taking the jet back home.” He ran his hand over her breast again. “I’d be happy to wash your body and share my bed.”

  She let go of his pants, then slid her hand over his ass. “You’re so giving,” she said, with a hitch to her breath when he tweaked her nipple. “Will you let me wash you, too?”

  His mind instantly filled with the erotic image of Lola in his shower…naked, soap covering her hands as she stroked him, her breasts against his chest, his fingers sinking into her heat.

  He kissed her again. He couldn’t wait to touch her without clothes and a sleeping bag in the way. He couldn’t wait until they were out of the Glades and in his house. He couldn’t—

  Ice-cold reality crashed into him.

  Her mom could be dead this time tomorrow. Instead of feeding her passion, he could be consoling her grief. Whether her mom survived or not, they would also have to face the decision to take part in an execution or walk away. Which made what had just happened between them that much more bittersweet. Bottom line. Either distance or death would keep them from exploring a relationship. And that sucked. He didn’t want her remembering him as the guy she made out with the night before either her mom had been hunted down or they’d helped execute a killer.

  He wanted to be the guy she couldn’t forget.

  With the way she kissed, with the way she’d made it so damned easy for him to trust her, he’d have a hard time letting go of his memories of Lola Tam. After a final kiss, he brushed her cheek, then scooted off her.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Just need to cool off for a sec. I’ll be right back.”

  “Ryan?”

  The uncertainty in her tone had self-loathing and resentment settling in his chest. After spending years casually dating, worried one of those women might become too close and unable to deal with the baggage he’d been carrying, today, he’d clicked with a woman he couldn’t have.

  She’s too good for you anyway.

  He tightened his jaw and touched her leg through the sleeping bag. “Yeah?”

  “You never answered me.”

  “About?” he asked, wracking his brain for the question.

  “Letting me wash you?”

  The urge to hold and touch her came on strong, and only intensified the resentment. He needed to accept that ice-cold reality. No matter the outcome they faced, in the end, there would be no washing, no love-making, only grief or guilt.

  “I have soap with your name on it,” he said, trying to force humor into his voice, then opened the tent flap.

  “Ryan?”

  He paused and closed his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Take your own advice. Stay out of your head.”

  “I’m not in my head,” he lied.

  “Then that’s a good thing. Because I was thinking that you might be thinking that we have bigger problems to deal with other than the need for a shower and a bed.”

  “I might’ve been,” he answered honestly, relieved she’d brought up what had been weighing on his mind.

  “Don’t. No matter what happens tomorrow, or the next day, or even the day after that, it doesn’t change what just took place in this tent.” She leaned forward and latched onto his wrist. “I might hate why we’re here together, but I like you.”

  Relief diminished the resentment. “I like you, too.”

  “Good.” She took his hand and pulled him back into the tent. “Come to bed. If you’re not lying beside me, I’m not going to be able to sleep.”

  He grinned as his own words came back at him. She was right. He needed to stay out of his head and enjoy what they had right now. He crawled
back under the sleeping bag, wrapped an arm around her, then spooned her.

  Instead of worrying about tomorrow, he’d enjoy holding her tonight.

  Somewhere in the Everglades, Florida

  Friday, 12:49 p.m. Eastern Standard Time

  “What the fuck do we have here?”

  Ian jerked awake, then quickly reached for the gun next to him. A booted foot landed on his wrist, as the beam from a flashlight hit him in the eyes. Fear and panic gripped him. He frantically reached for Cami with his other hand. She grabbed onto his arm, her long nails digging into his skin as she buried her head against his shoulder.

  “Maybe a couple of Del Rio’s people,” another man said, moving the beam over them.

  “Del Rio’s a racist and hates white people.” He used his foot to apply pressure to Ian’s wrist. “Who do you work for, old man?”

  “No one. We were hiking and got lost.” He licked his dry lips. “I can pay you if you help us out of here.”

  Cami whimpered when light suddenly illuminated the trailer. As Ian’s eyes adjusted to the lantern’s glow, he stared at the two men, who could have been brothers. Both were in their mid to late twenties, tanned, handsome, clean-cut, and were dressed as if they’d just finished a day of fishing.

  The man lifted his boot from Ian’s wrist, then kicked the pistol and rifle aside. “I see you were playing with our guns.”

  “Shit, Chase, that means they’ve seen—”

  “We were scared,” Ian said, and meant it. He toyed with the idea of telling them the truth, but decided against it. These men were here for the cocaine, and based on the blood and decomposing fingers he’d found in the bathroom toilet, he doubted they would have any empathy for their situation. “We don’t care what you two are into, we just want to find a way home. We can leave now and I can compensate you for using your trailer for the night. Just name your price.”