As if they’d been created with identical minds, both Avery’s and Brad’s eyes narrowed as they saw the small piece of clear tape they’d placed at the top of their hotel room door, where it met the jamb, had been disturbed. It was a covert operative’s trick to let them know if anyone had entered their room while they were gone. Nobody should have been in there at all because they’d requested to “go green,” meaning they didn’t want or need daily maid service. They’d call the front desk if they needed the towels, toiletries, or sheets replaced. Whoever had gone into their room was probably a resort staff member, but since neither Brad nor Avery were one-hundred percent sure, it was better to be safe than sorry.
Because they’d taken a commercial flight onto a non-US island, neither had brought a weapon with them—not that it mattered. There were many other weapons which could be mistaken for simple, everyday items that could be easily brought onto a plane or found lying around—an operative learned to improvise and use anything and everything available to them.
Glancing around, Brad spotted a discarded room-service tray a few doors down. In silence, he hurried over and swiped the butter knife. It wasn’t sharp, but with enough strength behind it, the utensil could do some damage. Meanwhile, Avery had pulled a seemingly innocent, compact umbrella, with a thicker-than-normal shaft, from her beach bag and unscrewed the handle. An expandable, tactical baton slid from inside the hollow, metal rod. With a flick of her wrist, it was ready to use.
The corners of Brad’s mouth ticked upward at her ingenuity, even though it didn’t surprise him. “Nice,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear.
Not caring about what hotel security thought of them if they were watching the couple on the hallway cameras, Avery and Brad stood on either side of the door to their room. Brad held the keycard to the scanner and waited for the green light to appear. There was no way to silently enter the room with the bulky handle and noisy lock, so he didn’t hesitate to push open the door, using his foot to hold it ajar. When seconds passed, and no one rushed out or fired on them, the couple eased around the jambs and entered the room, letting the door shut behind them. A quick inspection revealed no one was lying in wait to murder or attack them. Nothing seemed out of place, nor did Brad have the feeling their belongings had been disturbed.
Coming out of the bathroom, where he’d checked behind the shower curtain, Brad heard Avery chuckle. “Damn room service. She’s gonna be pissed—I better not tell her.”
His gaze went to the huge fruit, cheese, and wine basket, which hadn’t been there earlier, sitting on the glass and wicker table for two by the window. Someone from room service must have come in while they were gone and left it. Avery stood next to the table, with a little, white card in her hand. He raised an eyebrow at her as he dropped the butter knife onto the dresser next to the wide-screen TV. “Haven?”
“Yup . . . Frisco too. Although I’m sure they intended for it to be here when we first arrived.” She read from the card, “Enjoy your trip and stay out of trouble.”
Tossing the card onto the table, Avery poked through the items in the basket before selecting an oversized, plump, chocolate-covered strawberry and sliding the luscious morsel from the clear plastic surrounding it. When she took a bite of it, red juice rolled down her chin. Before she could wipe it away with her hand, Brad swooped in, leaned down, and used his tongue to clean her up, reveling in the combined flavor of the fruit and Avery. Grasping her hips and pulling her close, he continued to kiss and lick his way to her mouth. He had no idea what had happened to the rest of the strawberry, and didn’t care, when Avery’s arms went around his neck. Her lips parted, granting his tongue entry. Strawberry, chocolate, and the spicy, feminine taste he’d always associate with the woman in his arms tantalized his palate. He moaned and deepened the kiss, while pivoting and walking her backward toward the bed. He couldn’t explain it, but Avery turned him on faster than any other woman he’d ever met, and that was saying a lot. His cock was ready to explode, and they were both still dressed. Not bad for a guy in his midfifties. While his response time had started to slow down in recent years, he still didn’t need the help of one of those little, blue pills. The sex-after-fifty gods were still smiling down on him.
Avery’s hands dropped to the hem of the T-shirt Brad had pulled on as he’d let Lori and Cameron know they’d meet them later for dinner, before heading back to the room. Brad reached back, grabbed a handful of cotton, and yanked the shirt up and off. Avery’s hands were roaming his taut abs and trim waist before his shirt hit the floor. While he rarely went into the field anymore, usually remaining at a base or camp, doling out orders, Brad kept up a daily physical fitness routine to stay in shape. It was similar to the one he’d performed during his days as an active Delta operative, although, not as strenuous as it had been back then. His joints had taken a beating over the years and let him know it, more often than not lately.
Taking a step back, Brad let his gaze caress every inch of Avery’s body before reaching out and tugging on the knot holding her sarong around her hips. It took a moment before the navy and white fabric fell to the floor, pooling at her bare feet. He wasn’t sure when she’d kicked off her sandals, but it didn’t matter. Her feet were as petite as the rest of her, her toenails painted hot pink. Her legs already seemed tanner than when they’d first arrived in Aruba, and the scent of the coconut suntan lotion she’d used tickled his nose. His gaze trailed upward until it met her own. Avery raised her hands to the nape of her neck and untied the bikini top, then did the same to the strings that went around to her back, before letting the skimpy scrap of material drop to the floor. Brad swallowed hard as he did every time he watched her undress, wondering how in the hell he’d gotten so damn lucky this late in life.
Chapter Four
“Like what you see, big boy?” Avery teased Brad as his hungry gaze roamed her body while she got rid of the bikini bottoms, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His swim trunks dropped too, releasing his thick erection. Her man was nicely built in more ways than one.
“Damn straight, woman. C’mere.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his hard body. His mouth descended on hers again as he skillfully lowered her to the bed, holding the majority of his weight on his forearms. His kiss was lazy yet dominant, as if he had all the time in the world to convince her to submit to him—not that it ever took much convincing. They weren’t in the BDSM lifestyle like some people they knew, but there was nothing wrong with letting her lover take command or engage in a little “slap and tickle.” A few times, Avery had let Brad use a set of furry handcuffs she’d won during a friend’s Passionate Nights party on her. Even though she trusted him fully, she knew how to easily get out of them without the key that’d come in the package. Another of those ingrained habits that would never die.
Sliding to the side, Brad left her mouth and kissed his way down her neck and collarbone, until he reached the swell of her breast. His fingers plucked her nipple until it peaked for him, then sucked it into his mouth. Avery squirmed under him, her hand palming the back of his head. Not for the first time, she wished his hair was a little longer, so she could tug on it.
While he worshiped her breasts, with his facial hair rasping against her skin, his hand dragged down her abdomen to her mound. His fingers toyed with the trim hairs surrounding her clit, before continuing lower. After testing her wetness, he grasped her hips and moved her further up the bed. When they’d first started having sex, Avery had been a little embarrassed that menopause had made things a little . . . well, different down there from when she was younger, but Brad had never made her feel inadequate. He’d just smile and say that it was times like these that’d made K-Y a top seller. There was nothing wrong with growing older.
Dipping his head between her legs, he ran his tongue between her plump labia, moaning as he did so. Avery spread her thighs wider, giving him more room to tease and tantalize her. He alternated between flattening his tongue an
d gliding up her pussy, to flicking her clit, and stiffening his tongue and impaling her with it. Her pelvis undulated—trying to get closer to his mouth even though it was impossible. He nipped her hip. “Where’s the lube, baby?”
Avery gasped for air. “Right behind you . . . night stand.”
Rolling into a sitting position, he snatched the small bottle she’d placed there along with several other items she liked having nearby while she was in bed. Brad was back in an instant, flipping the top of the bottle up and pouring some of the lubricant on her mound, where it trickled down between her legs. After returning the bottle to where he’d gotten it, Brad ran his fingers through the slick liquid, spreading it around and in her pussy. Within moments, Avery felt the tingling sensation and heat worthy of a five-star review for K-Y.
While he stroked and finger-fucked her, Brad watched Avery’s face. He’d told her he enjoyed doing that because the changes in her expression clued him in to what she liked the most. Whatever the reason, it worked, because the man could play her like a fine violin. He plunged his fingers deep inside her, searching for the spot that would send her flying. Avery’s eyelids fell as she bit her lip and arched her back. Her orgasm rushed to the surface and exploded. She cried out as her thighs clamped shut, holding Brad’s hand in place as his fingers continued to move inside her. His thumb settled on her clit, stimulating her from the outside. The combination drew out her pleasure until she was completely spent.
“You’re gorgeous when you cum, baby. Fucking gorgeous.” Brad crawled up beside her, then rolled her on top of him, steadying her with his hands at her waist. She straddled his hips, then stacked her hands on his chest and pushed herself up onto her knees. After they’d both gotten a clean bill of health, they’d forgone the condoms; Avery didn’t need to worry about getting pregnant anymore. Brad told her more than once how he loved taking her with nothing between them—something he, apparently, hadn’t done with a woman since his marriage.
Reaching between her legs, Brad held his rigid cock upright for her, allowing her to ease down and take him deeply within her. This time, it was his eyes that slammed shut, as she enveloped him in her wet heat. “God, woman, what you do to me!”
Avery smiled, pleased at his guttural tone as much as his words. Lifting herself up and plunging down again, she rode him at a near-frantic pace. Her nails lightly scored his chest, the coarse hairs there tickling her fingers. From below, Brad jacked his hips, trying to go as deeply as he possibly could. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh mingled with their combined gasps, moans, and occasional curses.
Without warning, he held her tightly and rolled them again until she was underneath him. Cupping the back of one of her thighs, he bent her leg toward her chest. Picking up his pace, he fucked her hard. Avery wrapped her free leg around his hip, digging her heel into his ass, urging him on. Perspiration coated their bodies. A vein at Brad’s temple pulsed. Her inner walls began to quiver around him as he pounded into her. “Cum for me again, baby. Take me with you this time.”
Brad’s pelvic bone repeatedly hitting her clit was her undoing this time. Fireworks ignited in her mind a split second before her world exploded. “Oh! Shiiiiitttt!”
He thrust once, twice, then held himself there, roaring his own release. Feeling him fill her, prolonged her own climax, then she melted into a satiated and blissful puddle.
Panting, Brad collapsed on top of Avery, before rolling them both onto their sides, still joined intimately. He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re going to be the death of me one day, woman, but what a helluva way to go.”
Lin Zheng was surprised to see his father pacing in the younger man’s office when he returned later that afternoon. Lin Chao was supposed to be over the Pacific Ocean by now, not at the successful resort they owned, and Zheng ran. The older man had supplied the backing for the venture but hadn’t wanted to oversee the day-to-day operations. And Zheng knew why. While it made plenty of money for the family, it wasn’t close to what Chao’s former empire had been worth. An empire built on criminal activities. The Chinese government had seized a vast majority of the elder Lin’s holdings before banishing him from the only land he’d ever lived on, but there had still been many accounts on foreign soil he’d been able to hold on to.
Looking back on his life as a child, Zheng often wondered where he would be right now if it hadn’t been for Delan’s death. His older brother had been their father’s chosen one—the son who would carry on the family’s legacy. However, after Delan had been killed, his parents had drowned in a sea of grief. They couldn’t deal with raising their remaining eleven-year-old son—he was only a constant reminder of what they’d lost. Zheng was sent to continue his education with Xian De, a revered Shaolin Monk. Master Xian had instilled upon Zheng the difference between right and wrong—something he and his brother had never learned from their father. Zheng remained with Master Xian until his eighteenth birthday and then went to university to get his degree in business administration, despite the fact his father had been exiled from China. Chao and his wife had moved to the Philippines where they lived until Zheng graduated. The family reunited in Aruba, where they’d spent the next sixteen years building Trade Winds Resort into a successful vacation destination.
“Father, why are you not on the plane?” he asked, using the Mandarin tongue the older man preferred over one of the four main dialects spoken by most on the island. Although the official languages of Aruba were Papiamento and Dutch, many of the island’s inhabitants also learned English and Spanish in school.
“Plans changed. The time has come. Revenge shall be mine!” Chao shook his fist in the air as if in triumph.
Zheng narrowed his eyes as he closed the door behind him, not wanting his staff to hear the angry rantings of the old man. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s here. That murdering bitch is on the island!”
Feeling the blood drain from his face, Zheng rounded his desk and sat in the brown, leather executive chair. He knew who his father was speaking of—there was only one female who could bring about the amount of rage now coloring the elder Lin’s face—but he feigned ignorance. “Who is here?”
“Don’t play dumb, boy; I raised you better than that.” Actually, the man had barely raised him at all. “The cunt who killed your brother is on this island, and I’m going to make sure she never leaves it alive.”
Zheng paled. “You swore you would leave her alone.” It was one of the many deals Chao had needed to make with the Chinese government, in order to stay out of prison, after his empire had collapsed following the assassination of his eldest son.
“I vowed I wouldn’t go after her—I’ve kept my promise. But now . . .” Chao sneered as he stopped next to the huge floor to ceiling window behind his son’s desk and looked out at the blue horizon. “. . . now, she has come to me.”
Fuck. Zheng ran a hand down his face as he imagined the shit storm that was coming. “Are you sure it’s her?”
His father glared at him. “I will never forget the face of the woman who killed my first-born son.”
Who was apparently the only important son. I never mattered.
“Why risk what we have here . . . what we’ve worked so hard to build?” He knew it was useless to try reasoning with the old man, but he did it anyway. “Can’t you just let it go?”
Without warning, Chao backhanded him across the face, the impact thunderous in the large room. Pain bloomed through Zheng’s cheek and nose as his head snapped to the side. Chao was unapologetic as he growled. “I will never ‘let it go.’ It is my duty to avenge Delan’s death. It is yours too. When the time is right, you will be ready to do your part.”
Chao spun on his heel and strode across the room with more energy than Zheng had seen from him lately. He didn’t bother looking back as he opened the door and stormed out. From where he still sat, Zheng pulled a handkerchief from the back pocket of his khaki pants and dabbed his upper lip where a small amount of blood had se
eped from the broken vessels in his nose. Having seen Chao’s angry rages before, Zheng’s personal secretary quietly stood from her desk, stepped over to the door, and shut it so none of the other employees could see her boss recover from another violent run-in with his father.
Swiveling the chair around, Chao stared out over the paradise he’d put blood, sweat, and tears into. Somehow, some way, he had to ensure he came out of this mess he’d suddenly found himself in without losing everything. “Please, give me strength, oh, great Buddha.”
Chapter Five
Seconds after Cameron excused himself from the table in the resort’s main dining room, Lori glared at her father. “You know, you could at least try to like him and get to know him. He really wanted to make a good impression on you this week, and all you’ve done is drill him like he’s some dweeb who just walked off the bus into basic training.”
Avery picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. This was between father and daughter, and she needed to stay out of it, even if she agreed with Lori. The first night at dinner, Brad had interrogated the poor guy, who’d somehow maintained his composure and politeness. Last night hadn’t been much better, although Brad had been a little subtler, after Avery’s suggestion that he tone it down a little.
Brad rolled his eyes. “I am trying to get to know him.”
“No, you’re not. You’re waiting for him to do the slightest thing wrong, so you can tell me he’s not good enough. Hell, it’s been over forty-eight hours since you’ve met him, and you’re still making him call you ‘sir.’ He’s waiting for you to say ‘hey, Cameron, we’re on vacation, and I’m not your colonel, so feel free to call me Brad.’” She paused, her facial features softening as she clasped her hands together under her chin. “Dad, please. He means a lot to me.”
It was unclear who was more surprised at her use of “Dad” instead of his first name—Lori or Brad—but it seemed to do the trick. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at his daughter as if really seeing her as a grown woman for the first time. He reached back with one hand and palmed the nape of his neck, rubbing it. “Why do I suddenly get the feeling there’s more to this week than just getting to know your new boyfriend?”
Special Forces_Operation Alpha_Cheating the Devil_A Deimos/Trident Security/Delta Team Crossover Page 3