by Angel Payne
A strangled huff left him as the comprehension blasted, hot and huge and magnificent. He shoved the hair from her neck and bit the back of it as he kept possessing her ass with his cock and her pussy with his fingers. The world wasn’t just her anymore. The universe was. He was living the miracle he never thought he’d find. The exposed, perfect passion. The open, brutal openness. The connection he’d sought from BDSM yet had given up on discovering.
Ava’s exclamation vibrated through them both. “I need to come, Ethan. Please…please!”
He smacked his body hard against hers, plunging into her with all the force his thighs would give. “Give it to me, sunshine. Give it all to me!”
Her scream filled the room as her body jerked and rocked. The walls of her ass fisted him tighter, doubling the friction of every pump he got in until the switch finally got thrown and his balls ignited. He climaxed like a goddamn fireworks show, his senses flying, his body consumed by color and fire and heat. He wanted it to go on forever, and thank fuck his load was a big one because Ava stiffened again, convulsing through another orgasm that rocked her so hard, she began sobbing before it was done.
“Baby.” He rasped it into her ear, infusing it with every ounce of reverence and gratitude that warmed him.
“I’m okay,” she squeaked.
“I know.”
After a few minutes of holding her, he made short work of pulling his cock out of her body and her wrists out of the cuffs. “Don’t move,” he instructed, getting up to dispose of the condom and grab a blanket out of a nearby warmer. Hudsy really did run a class act here.
When he returned to the bed and wrapped the covering around Ava, he was careful yet cautious about his moves, partly due to resisting the urge to haul her back close. He’d just dominated her to the point of inducing tears. From experience, he knew that prompted some subs to withdraw into their own space for recovery. Others just wanted a hand to hold or someone nearby with a bottle of water. He couldn’t read anything into Ava’s bent head and curled posture, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start striking assumptions.
“Sunshine? Can I get you anyth—”
She drove the air from his lungs as she turned and lunged into his lap. “This,” she whispered, burrowing closer as he folded his arms around her. “You can get me this.”
Ethan rolled to his back, bringing her along with him. As the scent of their passion clung to the air and her heartbeat bumped against his, he murmured with total satisfaction, “Anytime you need it, baby. Anytime at all.”
* * *
When he looked at his watch again, he grumbled in irritation. Until he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked again. “Holy shit!”
“Hmmm?” Ava stirred and snuggled against his chest again. “What? No. Come here. You’re warm.”
“Sunshine, we fell asleep.”
“I know,” she mumbled. “Want more.”
He smiled and kissed her forehead. “’Fraid not. It’s five a.m. I’d better get you dressed and out of here. Your life is about to jump into warp speed.”
Especially because her show might be losing its producer any minute.
Fuck, he hoped that wasn’t the case. They’d chased down batshit intel before, and from the looks of things, they were either onto something huge here with Lor or something they could condense, contain, and hand over to the DEA for proper follow-up.
Either way, he was now hung balls-out over a barrel about it. Did he follow the damn rules and continue to keep Ava in the dark about their subterfuge involving Lor? Though she’d be insulated from the danger of that track, how would she react when he got back to the studio and renewed the kissy-la-la act with Bella, if she bought it at all after what they’d just shared? At that point, she’d likely confront him for a confession anyway. The woman was as smart as she was beautiful. It was why she made such a mesmerizing submissive—and the hardest lover he’d ever be recovering from, come a week’s time.
There were more important things to think about right now.
Choice number one in that category hinged on how she rubbed the sleek ribbon of her leg against the inside of his. Hell. If she slid any higher, she’d be teasing his balls with that silken skin and would find herself thoroughly fucked as a wake-up call. Choice number two was how she tucked herself tighter into the crook of his shoulder and explored the breadth of his chest with her fingertips. Her touch, soothing and soft, had turned into the gift she’d given him all night, a treat he hadn’t enjoyed in a very long time. Complete peace.
“Mmmm.” She issued it as a wistful whine of protest as she began a tracing a figure eight with her pointer finger. “You’re probably right. Bella’s likely wondering where you were all night.”
He clamped back a chuckle. Her not-so-subtle fishing expedition was pretty cute. He couldn’t resist lifting her face and then kissing her until they both gasped for breath. At last he drawled, “She’s not going to wonder shit.”
“Oh?”
“For the record, I’m not fucking Bella either.”
“Oh.”
She went to reinsert her head against his shoulder, but he fastened a hand back on her head and forced her gaze back up. “You really sound surprised at that.”
She flung a little frown. “Shouldn’t I be? The two of you have been a walking tribute to moony and cuddly for the last five days.”
Her sarcasm, a thin excuse for her hurt, knotted his gut. It sealed the deal on the words he deliberately chose next. “Yeah. Remember me when the Oscar ballots roll around.”
She sat up a little. “Huh?”
Shutting out the tempting sight of her cleavage, he took a deep breath before moving on. “The Romeo act with Bella has been just that. An act.”
“Huh?”
He fingered away some of her hair from her face so he could gaze deeper into her eyes. “Rhett, Rebel, and I aren’t really on the set as consultants. We’re working. On a mission. We’re chasing a very credible lead in partnership with the CIA and the FBI. It links communication from a major crime cartel to an end source here in LA.”
Ava blinked, taking in his words carefully. “Somebody in our crew?”
“You could say that.” When she raised her face in silent query, he pulled in another measured breath. “Enzo Lemare.”
She skittered backward while clutching the blanket around herself, reacting to the informational landmine he’d just detonated. “What the hell?” Her exclamation hung in the air for a long minute. Her shoulders rose and fell as her body struggled to keep up with her brain. “What the hell, Ethan?”
“I know it’s a shock.”
“Tu piensas? You think?”
He scooted up to lean against the headboard. He hadn’t pictured ever having to have this exchange with her, but if he had, being buck naked on a bondage bed wouldn’t have been his first choice for settings. Maybe the fresh positioning would help. “What I’m about to tell you is classified. It goes nowhere outside this room, right?” After she gave him a solemn nod, he went on, “His real name is Ephraim Lor, and he spent the better part of his life with radical extremists. When I was texted away from your place by Franzen last week, it was to attend a briefing where we found out that an encrypted communication out of Mexico made its way into the country, with Lor as its likely recipient.”
Her eyes darkened. “What did it say?”
“We didn’t know for several days. The intel was parked on a laptop, with a USB key needed to unlock it. We banked on the assumption that Enzo had that stick, which was why they inserted Rhett, Rebel, and me into things at the Dress Blues set.”
At that, she actually smiled. “They told you to get closer to Bella, in hopes that you’d get closer to Enzo.” Relief visibly flooded her face as doors of understanding clearly began to open. But a second later, her features darkened again. “So did you find it? The memory stick?”
“Late on Friday.” He tossed a lopsided grin. “Remember the accountant who came by the photo shoot at the Huntin
gton?”
“The one who screamed bee and stopped my pulse for a full minute?” she snapped. “Sí, I remember her well. How could I—” Her eyes and mouth went wide. “Caramba. That was an act? She was there to grab the stick? She’s one of you?”
“In a way. She’s FBI special task force.”
He decided she didn’t need to know that the “bee girl” was also the woman who’d collaborated with the lunatic who’d attempted to kidnap Ava’s cousin back to Thailand. Besides, at the moment, silence was a friend. The enormity of what he’d just disclosed hadn’t lessened its weight on his mind. “A lot of people have been working for months on this intel,” he asserted, letting her see his gravely serious side again. “Lor doesn’t just cover his tracks. He erases the damn things from the face of the earth. In short, he’s a sneaky fuck.” His voice dipped into a growl, and he didn’t care. “Needless to say, watching him set his radar on you has been a goddamn torture session.”
Ava’s face crumpled in adoration and admonishment in the same sweep. She crawled closer and twined her fingers into his. “So did the stick unlock anything on the laptop?”
He scowled. “Only another code, which we’ve only nicked the surface on decoding. On top of that, we learned there was a second laptop that the Aragons sent, only we haven’t been able to locate the damn thing. We’ve kept a constant vigil on the fucker, and he hasn’t received any shipments except vitamin supplements and a couple of new ties from Italy.” He squeezed her hand harder while using the other to scrub his face in frustration. “The asshat has to be working with someone. We just can’t figure out who the hell it is.”
A palpable wave of energy flowed off Ava. It was accompanied by her tighter grip in his, along with the total drain of color from her face. “Sunshine?” He leaned and gripped her by the elbow. Damn it. He’d been a hawk about watching her for signs of sub drop—except for the last ten minutes, in which he’d drop-kicked a wall of stunning new information on her. “Come here.” He added to his command by thrusting a bottle of water at her. “Drink. Now. Let me see if the toy cabinet has any candy in it. Your blood sugar is likely whacked, and—”
“I know.” She practically choked the words. Her hand clutched at him, forcing him to sit back down.
“You know what, baby?”
She lifted her face. It was twisted with distress, as if she’d just witnessed a murder. “I…I know who Enzo’s working with.”
Guess all the bombs of shock hadn’t been dropped in here yet. “What?” he blurted. “How?”
Between frightened gasps and nervous fidgets, she recounted a phone conversation of Lor’s that she’d overheard the night of the wounded vets benefit. She told about the man’s provoked tone at “Mateo,” likely the elder Aragon brother. There were his references to “keeping one’s enemies close” and accepting nothing less than a hundred percent on their “mission.”
But most terrifying were the comments about Cameron Stock. About the man “handling” things like “relevant specialists” in preparation for a “triumph” that was going to happen on Tuesday night.
Tomorrow night.
“Holy fuck,” Ethan finally muttered. Lightbulbs began popping to life in his mind—only to illuminate new corners of this maze that were maddeningly impenetrable, no matter how hard he tried to see. Important corners.
Next to him, Ava shivered beneath the blanket. “What does it all mean?”
He swallowed and grimaced at the sick acid that churned in his gut. “It means Colton was right,” he grated.
“About what?”
He didn’t look at her for a long second. Damn it, he didn’t want to tell her this part, but silence wasn’t an option anymore. He’d chosen to trust her with the truth. In return, she’d given him the Mack Daddy of all revelations. Excluding her in the name of protecting her wasn’t a goddamn option anymore. “The information we did recover off the first laptop was a map. It detailed hundreds of locations over the whole West Coast, plus parts of Idaho, Nevada, and Arizona. Colton thought it was a target grid.” He shook his head, inwardly flogging himself. “I told him he was a pecan short of a nut bowl.”
“Then you need to call him, right?”
Three minutes later, after locating his street clothes and his cell, he punched in Dan Colton’s number on his speed dial. Ava had dressed and stood next to him in the dungeon’s small kitchen area. She picked at the sandwich he’d swiped from the leftovers in the fridge and shoved in front of her with an order to eat.
The agent didn’t pick up the call.
Ethan growled an oath and called Franzen. The call also dropped into voice mail.
With a silent but fervent prayer, he dialed Colton’s desk line at the Los Angeles CIA offices. Maybe the guy had decided to go in early. Colton was a huge fan of fresh coffee.
Pay dirt. Sort of. After three rings, the line was answered—by a woman. “Yes?”
Ethan quickly shoved back his surprise. “So sorry for bothering you, ma’am.” Some habits from cotillion classes never died. “I think I misdialed.”
“Are you looking for Dan Colton?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t try to hide the wonder this time. “Luna?”
“Bingo. His desk line is being forwarded to me.” The pause from her end denoted her own mental dot connecting. “Archer?”
“Right.” Now that they had the meaningless formalities handled, he hardened his voice back to on-duty mode. “Listen, I need to reach him. Do you know where he is? Can I still get him at home?”
“Negative. Have you tried his cell?”
“That was my first call.” He huffed. “I’ve got fresh intel. Game-changing shit.”
“Then let’s hear it.”
He glanced at Ava, relieved to see she didn’t suspect this Agent Luna was the Luna who was still supposed to be in jail back home. “We’ve been running blind about Lor’s partner because I’m pretty damn certain it’s Cameron Stock.”
There was a tense stretch of silence on the line. “Wh-What?” she sputtered at last. “Ethan, are you fucking sure?”
“Affirmative.” He quickly ran down the details Ava had just given him. When he concluded, Luna was eerily silent. “Hey? You still there?” he finally prompted.
“Yes.” Her answer was clipped short by a harsh hiss. “Shit.”
“Shit?” he echoed. “Shit…what?”
“Where are you at?” she demanded, tripling his confusion. “Are you at the hotel? The Hilton?”
“No. I’m…umm…not.”
“That’s where Dan’s going now.”
“I know.”
The five-alarm fire really blared through her voice now. “Ethan, he’s on his way to an urgent meeting that Stock called for your team. He said it couldn’t wait, that it was a matter of life and death.”
“Fuck!”
“I’ll meet you there. Use the hotel’s loading dock, not the lobby entrance. We both need to keep trying Dan’s cell.”
“Roger.”
He snapped the phone shut and then looked at Ava. Goddamn, how he wanted to draw her back next to him, envelop her in his arms, and never let her go. Her rich curls fell around her shoulders in a sexed-up mess. Her neck still bore the burn of his beard. Her cheeks were rosy and her indigo eyes were mesmerizing, even in the midst of the concern she directed at him now. She was his oasis in this suddenly shitty jungle of an op.
“What’s going on? What is it, Ethan?”
“We think Stock’s made a move.” He cupped her nape and kissed her hard. He longed to plunge at her a second time but knew if he did, there’d be no way of dodging the damn doomsday thoughts. No escape from thinking this could be the last time he held her like this, gazing at the evidence of their intimacy on her body, breathing in her incredible scent of jasmine and orange blossoms… Instead, he pecked her forehead and muttered, “I have to go.”
She straightened into a posture that could pass most musters. “You mean we have to go.”
“No.�
�� He threw it at her with the same unshakable resolve. “No way. Ava—”
She grabbed his arm, digging her nails into his skin. When he wrenched up his glare, hers was waiting, shimmering with tears above lips that shook in her attempt at composure. “You want me to come with you, Sergeant, or you want me to simply follow you? Because I’m doing this.” She curled her hold tighter. “You talked to me once about banishing the ghosts of Colin and Flynn. Well, help me do it, right now—because if I lose you to this mission, their ghosts will be cute Halloween props compared to the damage yours will wreak.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Ethan made a sharp right to go up the steep hill to the Hilton Universal City, peeling a strip of rubber off the tires of Ava’s Mercedes in the doing. He followed the signs for truck deliveries to the hotel, knowing that would take them to the loading dock. The road led past a hallway that had walls of glass, apparently leading to the property’s meeting rooms. At this hour of the morning, the corridor was filled mostly with uniformed hotel service staff—which made Colton and Franzen even more easy to spot. Even from behind, Ethan knew the two men. Their purposeful strides, as well as the way they elbowed each other trying to slosh one another’s coffee, were defining flags.
“Christ.” He used a loading curb to drive the car up onto the sidewalk and throw it into park. “There they are.”
“Ethan! Anda la osa! What the hell are you—”
“Stay here,” he ordered. “Stay. Here!” But before he got three steps, his nerves clenched at the whump of the car’s passenger door and the patter of her feet behind him. As he yanked open the hotel’s big glass portal, he growled, “For a woman who doesn’t want a military hand in her life, baby, you are fast ensuring my palm and your ass are going to have a party soon.”
“Promises, promises.” She rushed past him and then jogged down the hall in which they’d spotted Franz and Colton.
Ethan caught her, impaled her with a glare, and then whipped her behind him as they rounded a corner and spotted the two men again. Franzen and Colton were already halfway across a foyer that led to a small, glass-domed atrium. He got a glimpse of the rest of the guys through the glass, sitting and shooting the shit, everyone thinking they’d been summoned to a meeting with an ally. “Fuck,” he bit out. Garrett and Zeke had Sage and Rayna there, too. The women were wearing beach outfits and looked like they were saying goodbyes to their men before a day at the shore.