Perhaps he was imagining it, but her voice sounded sexier than ever. Like every word was an invitation to sex, not breakfast. Six shook his head. “No. But I can make you something if you give me another ten.”
“It’s okay. I got it. This is something I can do.”
“Go easy on me, Lou,” he said, teasing her. “I can’t do spelt or cold oats crap this early in the morning.”
Lou rolled her eyes. “Just because I prefer not to eat animal products for health reasons, I don’t mind cooking them,” she said.
He watched the way she efficiently grabbed eggs and vegetables from the fridge before setting them on the counter. He wondered if she realized she was standing in the exact spot where he’d fallen to his knees and introduced his tongue to her insatiably hot pussy. His cock twitched, and suddenly he wanted Mac and Cabe out of his house so he could drop those shorts just enough to slide his ever-hardening cock inside her.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Cabe whispered across the table.
Six shook his head. “None of your business, man,” he warned. Louisa was busy chopping, too far away from them to hear their hushed words.
“Yes, it is. You can’t think with your dick,” Mac said. “We talked about this.”
“No,” Six warned. “You talked about it. I didn’t agree.”
Cabe rolled his eyes. “Yes. You sure as shit did.”
“Okay,” Six admitted with a shrug. “I did. Turns out I didn’t mean it.” What he didn’t add was that he had meant it, right up until the moment he’d seen her. It had proven impossible to stay away from Louisa, even though he knew better.
“You aren’t going to think clearly. You’re too close. It’s a weakness of yours. Women.”
His stomach tightened at the thought of what Cabe was suggesting. His judgment wasn’t clouded by Louisa, was it? Unable to formulate a response that would make any sense to Cabe, he flipped him the bird.
“Wow, real mature, Six.”
“Don’t make me spell it out, asshole. She’s different. Okay?”
Shock pinched Cabe’s features. “What the hell? For real?”
Six nodded. “Don’t ask me to explain it because I can’t. And we’ve got shit to do.” He looked down at his laptop. “We got an address for the van. Which one of the guys is outside?”
“Gaz is out there, but Mac came to relieve him. What are you thinking?” Cabe asked.
“Lou needs to go give her formal statement. So, Mac, maybe you could take her, and Cabe, I’m thinking we should go see if we can’t persuade the van’s owner to share what he knows.”
Cabe grinned. “I’m in.”
Over the omelets that Louisa made, they finalized their plans, but something nagged at the back of Six’s brain. The idea of leaving Lou in Mac’s care was driving him crazy. And not because he didn’t trust his best friend’s intentions, which he did implicitly, but because it wasn’t him. He should be looking out for her. But he also didn’t want anybody else going out to follow their lead in case they screwed it up.
“Give me two minutes to get ready,” Six said, pushing his plate toward Mac, who’d already begun to clear the table.
His head was filled with their conversation about Lou and his own confused thoughts as he walked toward the bathroom. The SEAL and the man in him had never been in conflict before. It was crazy that his feelings for her were clouding his judgment. As much as he hated the idea of putting some distance between himself and Louisa, as much as he wanted to rally against what Cabe and Mac said, a small voice told him it was for the best. At least until this was over. Louisa deserved the best protection he could provide, which meant she needed him to be Six the SEAL right now. Because he needed her to be alive for him to see what they could be together. Their timing sucked. So he’d give them space, even if Six the man knew doing that would hurt like hell.
* * *
Louisa wrapped the towel around her chest and fastened it tightly. Using the back of her hand, she wiped the mirror in the bathroom of Six’s bedroom and studied her reflection. Hooded eyes and lips swollen from a night filled with kisses stared right back at her. And best of all, she felt … energized. Now that she knew what amazing sex felt like, she made a pact with herself that she’d never accept anything else. Hopeful that Six would continue to scratch that itch for her, she parked the thought of finding someone after him because all it did was cause her heart rate to spike and a pit to develop in the center of her stomach. Instead, she focused on the way he’d felt beneath her.
Though most of her ached to have Six’s hands back on her because, dear God, they were huge, and strong, and had manhandled her in a way that had sent delicious feelings congregating between her thighs, she felt more than just sexual excitement. It was clear that he was grappling with a combination of his sense of duty, the contract she had signed with them, and the same kind of pent-up frustration she was feeling. She thought about the words he’d whispered in her ear. Tell me to stop, Lou … You’re my client.
What if he regretted it? He’d been out of bed before she’d woken. At first she’d wondered if that was just a military habit, but thinking about it now, perhaps he hadn’t meant for things to get so carried away between them. Louisa shook her head to clear all the high-school-esque thoughts. He was a grown man. She hadn’t forced him. Far from it. He’d approached her in the kitchen. He’d laid his hands on her. All she’d done was be honest and tell him that she wasn’t strong enough to stop him from touching her. That she wanted his hands sweeping her skin. No. There was nothing for him to regret. And she was just being foolish. It was sex. And it had been sublime.
Somehow, she needed to find the words to tell him just how badly she wanted to learn from him, how she wanted to learn more about herself … what she liked and what worked for her. And his tongue. Oh, Lord, his tongue. When he’d knelt behind her, she’d wondered what on earth he was going to do, but then he’d licked her like she was a freaking popsicle, and she’d shivered from top to bottom. Her thighs tightened at the thought of it now.
She dried her hair with a hand towel, and then, as she began to comb it, Six pushed the door open. His eyes immediately dropped to her breasts, which were still covered by the small towel, and then lower to where water droplets ran down her thighs.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as his eyes finally met hers. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in here. Just wanted to brush my teeth before I head out.” It was hard to discern from his tone whether he was grumpy that she was using his bathroom instead of the guest one or frustrated because he was in a hurry. Or if he was actually mad at her for what they’d done.
“I’m almost finished,” she said, refusing to apologize for something she wasn’t even sure she should be apologizing for. “Where are you going?” Her voice sounded exponentially calmer than she felt inside.
Six leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “Got a lead on the van, so Cabe and I are going to go check things out. Just some recon—see if we can’t pick up a trail to figure out what is happening.”
“Should I come with you?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No. It’s way safer if you stay here. You’re their target, and I don’t want you in any crosshairs. You would just be a distraction.”
“You should know that Vasilii texted me last night. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the van, but he wanted to talk to me.”
Nothing about his features or tone suggested any kind of happiness to see her, and it sucked. Really sucked. He was obviously in SEAL mode. And he looked fierce. “What exactly did he say?”
“Just that he’d been too hasty. That he was sorry someone broke into my home, and that the police had been to see him. And that he wanted to talk some more.”
Lines formed on Six’s brow. “Well, for now, just ignore it. And definitely don’t try to go meet him, at least not without talking it through with one of us.”
“Okay,” she replied. It was ridiculous that underneat
h the talk of texts, and tracking down van drivers, she was desperate to ask him about the two of them. But she wasn’t going to be that girl. The one who asked, “What are you thinking?” No. She was just going to get on with finishing up so she could be crushed in private. “Just give me two more minutes.”
When she was done, she turned around and saw that Six hadn’t moved. His eyes still fixed on her, he ran his tongue along his lower lip.
Deliberately, she adjusted the towel, fully aware that Six’s eyes followed her every move. Intellectually, she knew it was wrong for his gaze to turn her on so much when he seemed suddenly so distanced from her.
Pathological shyness had taught Louisa one important thing. Never poke someone into conversation. Louisa hated it when people tried to engage her, like at the drive-through when they tried to ask her about her day. She just wanted her food and to be on her way. Or when people who knew her a little better forgot to work with the fact that she felt uncomfortable around anyone other than her mother and proceeded to act like untrained psychiatrists to get to the bottom of her problems. She often wished people would just leave her alone. So she got the fact that Six was sticking to strictly business and would never be the one to break the terms of their professional agreement, even though it broke her heart that she really wanted to feel his arms tighten around her and a good-morning kiss on her lips.
“All done,” she said, hanging her hair towel on the hook next to the shower. With her head down, she hurried to the door and was reaching for the handle when Six’s hand grabbed her hand.
“I’m sorry, Lou,” he said. “I couldn’t stop myself last night, but I should have known better.”
Hurt gathered in her belly, making it tighten. As always, logic was her go-to strategy. She looked up at him, though she rarely felt comfortable enough to look someone straight in the eye. Especially when he was dressed and she was wrapped in a towel.
“Don’t look at me like that, Lou. I know what it costs you to look straight at me, and I am so not worth it, believe me.”
Six looked tortured. Common sense was telling her that it was best to just go back to her room and let him work through it, which totally lined up with her usual MO of avoiding, well, life. But for once she held her ground. “Okay, first please quit the martyr act. We are grown-ups who had consensual sex. I’m sure you’ve done that before, so don’t start getting weird just because it was me. Second, I’ll look at you any way I damn well please. You didn’t care how I looked at you when I was riding … well … you know,” she said, gesturing toward his shorts. “Third. If the only difference between you tugging at the corner of this towel to do something … urgh … hot, or sexual, or something, and you walking out of the bathroom without kissing me good morning is the fact that I gave your company a check, I’ll cancel it. I’d rather pay you to help me, but I’m sure I can find somebody else if it’s the difference between us doing this or not.” Her knees were shaking and her voice was loud enough that she suddenly realized if any of Six’s team were still in the house, they’d likely heard her stumbled words. She felt pink spread to her cheeks.
She stepped toward the bathroom door, feeling like she was going to pass out before she made it to her own room. Her heart was pounding, and her head was spinning.
“Lou,” Six said quietly, his hand looping her wrist. “You like your lists? Fine. I’ll give you mine. First, I’m not being a martyr. We can’t build a reputation as a professional firm if I hook up with one of our first clients. Professionally, you must see how weird that looks, no matter how badly I want to. And what kind of message does it send to the guys who work for me? And yes. I have had sex before, lots of it, but what we did was much more than that. So please, for both our sakes, don’t minimize it. Just because I shouldn’t have done it doesn’t mean it wasn’t perfect. And for the record, how you looked riding my cock—and yes, you can say that word because, as you mentioned, we’re both grown-ups—was burned into my memory. And third, if it was as simple as just giving into this, you’d have been out of that towel and up on the counter with my face between your legs before you could cry out my name. It’s just … Shit, Lou. I’m trying to figure out what the right thing to do here is, and my duty wins out every time.”
Six ran his finger along her jaw and applied just the tiniest amount of pressure to encourage her to look up at him.
“I don’t have expansive experience at this, Six,” she said, honestly. “But I am not prepared to go through everything it takes to open myself up to you if you aren’t sure.”
He released her chin and sighed, and she knew they were done with the conversation. From the way his eyes held her, she knew their relationship was, at best, on temporary hold. For a moment, she considered whether she was brave enough to stand up on her tiptoes and initiate a kiss. Or whether she had what it took to simply drop her towel and stand in front of him, naked. She was certain she could convince him. But she’d never know for sure if he’d really wanted her or not.
And who wanted a guy who needed convincing to be in a relationship with you?
CHAPTER NINE
Six was glad they’d decided to take Cabe’s black truck. It blended into the night better than his would have, and being invisible was just what they needed right now. Plus, the darkness totally matched his mood. Agitation crawled through him, and the absolute silence he could usually find when he needed to focus was creeping further and further out of reach.
After lunch, a quick call into Officer Meeks had confirmed that the van used in the attempted abduction of Louisa had been found, burnt out, in an abandoned lot. None of the police’s efforts to find the owner, Demyan Kovalenko, had been successful.
Which was why Six was currently parked down the street from Kovalenko’s home, doing something the police didn’t have the manpower to do. Waiting and watching. Yet for some reason, the patience he’d had in spades as a sniper had gone AWOL. Sitting in Cabe’s truck, waiting, was driving him crazy and he didn’t know why.
Well, maybe he did, but admitting it meant admitting Cabe and Mac were right. What they were doing felt too urgent, too important, too … everything … to get wrong. Because if they didn’t get it right, then Louisa was at risk. And that made him a liability.
He hated the idea that she was in his home right now and he wasn’t there to protect her. He’d hated the look in her eyes when she’d left the bathroom, and when he got home he was going to make sure she understood this was only a delay in getting to know each other better. Except he hated the idea that he might have to go back to her and tell her that they had no new information, that he hadn’t achieved anything that might reassure her that she was safe.
“You flip my glove box open again and I’m gonna kill you,” Cabe said. He was sitting upright, arms folded across his chest like he had since they’d come to a stop, eyes forward. “How long do you want to give this before we call it a dead end?”
Six shook his head. “Let’s do another couple of hours. Then I think we tell the cops we are putting cameras outside his home.”
“You know, if we truly believe there is potential for this drug to be a weapon, I bet we could get some kind of authorization from Aitken to investigate this further.”
Andrew Aitken, Six’s CIA contact within the Ops Directorate, was a great call. Six looked at his watch. It was close to midnight, too late to call him now.
“I’ll hit him up in the morning. The Russian angle alone will probably be enough to pique his interest. I don’t really love the idea of getting caught up in a CIA versus FBI battle over jurisdiction but doing nothing appeals to me even less.”
The two of them fell into silence again, and time crept by painfully slowly, the neon green numbers of the dashboard’s clock taunting Six. He fiddled with the earpiece he was wearing, a protocol when they were out on a job to ensure they were never out of contact.
A runner jogged passed the truck, completely ignoring Six and Cabe, both of whom were dressed in black, fading into the backgr
ound their specialty. He was bulky, the kind of gym rat who only worked out his chest, which was covered in a dark hoodie, an odd choice given the August weather. Something didn’t fit and it wasn’t just the slouchy gray track pants that he had to periodically stop to pull up.
“You seeing this?” Cabe whispered to Six.
“That’s not Kovalenko, but I’ll take anything we can get.”
They watched as the man ran toward Kovalenko’s home. He looked left, then right, as if checking out the neighborhood.
Six reached to check his weapon. “Shit.” The man ran straight past the house. Disappointment flooded him. He’d been so certain—
“Bingo!” Cabe said as the man doubled back and abruptly ran down the narrow path alongside Kovalenko’s home.
After a few moments of darkness, a flicker of light as if from a flashlight appeared in the upstairs window. Six ran through the scenarios. Kovalenko was still alive and on the run, but needed something from his house to flee. Or Kovalenko was dead and something needed cleaning up … evidence needed destroying … something.
“We going to pick him up as he leaves, or you want to follow him.”
“Follow him,” Six said. “He might tell us something if we stop him now, might not. But if we follow him, we’ll learn more. I’m going to follow him on foot, I’ll keep you posted on location. Stay close.”
Six slipped out of the truck and closed the door quietly, disappearing into the shadows behind the truck.
Several minutes later, the guy left the house and headed straight past them again on the opposite side of the street. Now he carried a small black sports bag.
Confident that the dash cam would have captured the man’s entrance and exit from the house, Six began to jog, careful to place his feet deliberately on the ground to avoid the usual slap of boots on the sidewalk. This he could do. This felt like taking action. And there was no way on God’s green earth that the guy could outrun him.
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