Topping the Alpha: Trident Security Series

by Samantha A. Cole

  “Thank fuck, because I don’t think I can hold back.”

  As Nick thrust his cock in and out, Jake clutched his own, stroking at the same pace. It wasn’t long before Nick’s jaw clenched and he begged, “Shit, hurry. Oh, fuck! So fucking tight. I’m…damn it. Can’t stop.”

  The tingling started in Jake’s spine and his balls drew up tight. He wanted to hold back until his sub came first. “Cum, babe. Now!”

  Nick thrust in again and went rigid as he threw his head back and roared his release. “FFFuuucckkk! Oh, God-damn.”

  Two more pumps of Jake’s hand and streams of hot cum covered his abs and chest. Obviously not giving a shit about the mess, Nick collapsed on top of him, yet kept most of his weight on his elbows by Jake’s shoulders. Both of them were gasping for air.

  Petting Nick’s head, Jake felt his heart slow down to normal. “Damn, Junior. I’m going to have to let you do that more often.”

  “Anytime, Sir.”

  Pulling him down further, Jake took pleasure in cuddling with his sub in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He knew right then, that after all this shit with Alyssa was over, he’d find a way to deal with his past. Nick was fucking worth it.

  * * *

  Jordyn hid in the dark shadows cast by the trees behind her target’s house. Dressed entirely in black, she was nearly invisible in the darkness, with her face being the only thing showing. Her jaw clenched. She should have just asked Carter if she could kill the pervert, but knew he wouldn’t have agreed to it. Hell, she wouldn’t have been able to do it anyway. This wasn’t a sanctioned op, so therefore it would be murder—and her morality was something she’d managed to hold on to all these years. Hmmpf. A psychiatrist would have a fucking field day with that one—an assassin with a moral code of ethics.

  Wagner had been holed up in his Mc-mansion since she’d arrived five hours ago, just after dark. Unyielding patience during her field work was something the she’d learned a long time ago, so waiting around was nothing new. After studying the layout of the house and alarm schematics, she was confident this would be an easy in-and-out job. For a wealthy businessman, he had a pretty poor, and easily by-passed, security system.

  Jordyn was now dealing with a time frame, though. She’d received a call from her handler earlier and had less than twenty-four hours to get on a plane to London before heading to Africa for a new covert mission. So tonight’s break-in was a go, no matter what.

  When she’d first arrived at her hiding place, there had been several people in the house with Wagner, but they’d left around nine and now he was home alone. It was a little past one in the morning, and the lights had been off for the past three hours. In a text conversation with Trident’s geek, she’d been told he could hack into the security system and briefly disable it without anyone knowing he’d been there. That was to her advantage, since cutting it off at the alarm box meant she couldn’t turn it on again. This way, Wagner wouldn’t discover anything had happened until he found items missing from his safe. Hopefully by then, she’d be long gone and he wouldn’t have time to cover his tracks before all hell broke loose and fell on his head.

  A quick text to the Brody Evans, letting him know it was time to do his thing, received an immediate response.

  Alarm disabled. Good luck and let me know when to turn it back on.

  Using the tree line for coverage as much as she could, Jordyn worked her way around the edge of the property until she could make a beeline across the open yard to the side entrance to the garage. While most people had decent locks on their front and back doors, she found most exterior and interior garage doors were lacking in security. In under two minutes she was turning the knob on the interior door and pushing it open with utmost stealth. She had a penlight on her utility belt, but with the clear sky, there was just enough moonlight coming in through the windows for her to see without bumping into anything. All was quiet in the fifteen room house. Making sure the silence continued, she quickly located the home office right where the floor plans said it would be. Now to find the safe. According to the information she’d gotten with the rest of the email, the girl reported that the safe was behind a hinged painting on the wall. How fucking original.

  Pausing inside the office door, she listened for anything out of place. Nothing. Tiptoeing across the room, she found the picture of some half-nude woman and rolled her eyes. What better place to hide your child porn than behind erotic art.

  Jordyn ran her fingers behind the frame, looking for any trip wires which would set off an alarm. She highly doubted there were any, but she knew better than to skip a step. Her pessimism was what had kept her alive and out of prison in many countries around the world. Finding nothing of concern, she tugged on the bottom right corner of the frame and the painting swung away from the wall, like a cabinet door, revealing the safe. From the back pocket of her black jeans, she pulled out a stethoscope. Yes, Hollywood got that right—the common medical apparatus was also a standard tool for locksmiths and safe-crackers. It was the easiest way to hear the sound the drive cam notch made when it slid under the lever arm in a dial combination lock. The first thing she needed to do was figure out how many numbers were part of the combination. It could be anywhere between two and six. Putting the stethoscope in both her ears, she held the bell end up to the safe and slowly turned the dial, listening carefully for the clicks.

  Once she had the combination length, she turned her attention to the individual numbers. This is the ideal method for her to get into a safe, because it left no trace of her being there and the safe would remain in perfect working order. While it took most locksmiths close to an hour cracking a safe this way, Jordyn was trained by one of the best jewel thieves of the late 20th century—her uncle. There were only a handful of world-renowned safe manipulators and Ignacio Alvarez had been one of them prior to his death nine years ago in a car accident.

  Within minutes, she had the safe door open and was pulling out the contents. Some cash, a bunch of files, accounting journals…and, bingo, two thumb drives. Reaching to her back waistband, Jordyn grabbed her tablet and booted it up, keeping an ear on the rest of the house. It was still quiet. Plugging in the first memory device, she quickly clicked on the files, finding them all to be text-based documents. She copied every file into her Dropbox folder, then put the drive back into the safe. Inserting the second drive, she scanned the file extensions. Double bingo. It was full of photos and videos. After clicking on the first one, her stomach clenched when the sickening photo appeared. That son of a bitch. It took everything in her not to sneak upstairs and slit the bastard’s throat after slicing off his dick and balls.

  Thump.

  Jordyn froze at the muffled noise. Something had been dropped or knocked over onto a carpet or rug. Whatever it was, it’d come from upstairs where the bedrooms were. Pocketing the thumb drive, she powered down the tablet, stuck it in her pants and shoved everything else back into the safe, trying to make it look undisturbed. She heard a door squeak in the distance at the same time she quietly shut the safe and returned the painting to its proper position. Hurrying over to the door to the den, she cracked it open. A cough, followed by some muttering, came from the top of the stairs. Shit.

  Recalling the floor plans she’d been given, Jordyn slipped out the door and across the hallway to the kitchen. From there she kept moving into the laundry room where it was highly unlikely the homeowner would be going to at this time of the night. Hiding behind the open door, she was able to see part of the kitchen as Wagner shuffled in.

  The man stood about five-foot-ten and was about two hundred pounds. With her training, he would be no problem if there was a confrontation, but that was to be avoided at all costs. She rolled her eyes as he picked at the wedgie he must’ve had from his pajama bottoms. Gross.

  Wagner coughed again as he opened the refrigerator door and light spilled out. Thankfully, it opened in the opposite direction from where Jordyn remained as still as a statue. Twisting the cap off a bottle
of water, the man chugged it while shutting the fridge again. After tossing the empty bottle into a bin under the sink, he shuffled out to the hallway again, letting out a loud belch.

  Jordyn waited until the man return to his bedroom, and then lingered a few minutes longer just to make sure. When she was certain the coast was clear, she headed toward the door to the garage, and five minutes later was climbing into her rental parked two blocks away in a business lot. After sending a text to Evans to turn the alarm on again, she put the vehicle in drive and disappeared into the night. Mission accomplished.

  CHAPTER 24

  Alyssa sat on one of the stools for the kitchen island, having cereal for breakfast. She’d been awake half the night after Jake had called and said her mother had been found. While he wouldn’t tell her how or where the body was located, he did reassure her that he would help give her mom a proper burial when it was safe to do so. He was still working on finding out if her father had anything to do with her mother’s death, but she didn’t need any proof—she was certain the bastard had hired someone to kill them both.

  The anger toward her father had grown as her shock had worn off. Not only had the son of a bitch ruined her life, but now he’d killed the only person she truly loved in this world. Over the years, Oliver Wagner had ensured that his wife and daughter were kept isolated from relatives, had few friends, and had to rely on him for everything. She wondered what the public would think about the prominent businessman, who had powerful friends in the mayor’s office as well as the police department, if they knew what had happened behind closed doors. Before she ran away last year, he’d been talking with people about running for some elected position. She wished she had the courage to report him, but who on the police force would believe her over him? At least Jake, his friends, and the contacts at Friends of Patty had believed her. If she could get her hands on the pictures and videos the pervert had taken, she would have her proof, but then everyone would see what she’d had to do to keep from being beaten. And it hadn’t been only her who had been subjected to his rage and abuse—her father had threatened to do worse to her mother if Alyssa didn’t cooperate.

  She wished the bastard was dead, and even more, she wished she was the one to do it. Huh? Why not? Sitting up a little straighter, she let the idea develop in her mind. She was a little older now, stronger too, and could hash out her own justice. No one else would get in trouble and the courts would probably find her innocent because of the past abuse.

  “Miss Alyssa?”

  Pulling herself from her deadly thoughts, she glanced over her shoulder to see Tiny heading for the door. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs—for such a huge man, he moved so quietly. “Yeah?”

  “I have to go fix one of the cameras in the woods. I noticed it was moved and rewound the video to see what happened. A bird hit it, so nothing to worry about. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. Henderson is outside…I’ll tell him what’s going on.”

  “Okay.” She liked the big guy a lot. He reminded her of a big teddy bear, and was mindful that his size could intimidate her, so he always approached slowly, doing nothing which would startle her. Doug was just as nice, but was even shorter than Jake, so he wasn’t as threatening looking—his adorable dimples also helped with that. But she’d learned long ago, size didn’t matter when it came to monsters. They came in all shapes and proportions, and were sometimes sleeping in the room next door.

  The door opened again and Henderson walked in, covered in mud. Alyssa did a double take, her eyes growing wide. The man had leaves and other bits of debris falling from his clothes. “Doug, what the hell happened to you?”

  He’d left his sneakers outside on the porch, and was pulling his wallet, keys, and phone out of his pockets, placing them on a small table by the door. His gun was removed from his hip and he released the magazine before ejecting the bullet in the chamber. All three were added to the growing pile. The last thing he took off was his shoulder holster. “It was either this or get sprayed by a mother skunk. That rain we had last night loosened up the dirt and when I tried to get away from momma, I ended up sliding down the hill on my butt.”

  She couldn’t hold back her laughter and roared to the point her stomach hurt. “That’s too frigging funny! It looks like you slid down on more than your butt. You’re covered, but at least you don’t stink.”

  “There is that,” he admitted dryly. “I’m going to run upstairs and shower real quick. I’ll clean up any mud tracks when I’m done.” He started for the stairs. “If something doesn’t feel right, or anyone pulls up, hit the alarm, then head to the panic room. No exceptions, okay?”

  There were several alarm buttons located throughout the house. If one was pushed, it set off a very loud siren, which could be heard up to three miles into the woods. Jake had showed her how to work everything, as well as how to secure herself in the downstairs panic room. He’d said it was better to alert everyone and have it turn out to be nothing, than to worry about looking silly and place herself in danger—the opposite of the story of the boy who cried wolf.

  “Yup. I’ll be fine as long as momma skunk doesn’t come looking for you.”

  “Cute, smart mouth.”

  His smile told her he was okay with her teasing, even though his tone was sarcastic. While he headed upstairs, Alyssa brought her cereal bowl to the sink, washing and then drying it. She wandered over to the door and stared out at the lake. It was beautiful up here, despite the quiet and isolation. How she would love to have a place like this someday.

  After a few moments her eyes were drawn to the table next to the door. Henderson’s big, black gun looked exactly like the one she’d shot before. When her mom and she had been moving from contact to contact, escaping her father’s clutches, one of the men, a retired police officer, had shown her how to shoot one night. He’d instructed her on how to load and unload a gun, how to take off the safety, aim, and squeeze the trigger. While he wasn’t giving them a weapon of their own, he made sure she knew how to use one if she had to. Afterward, she’d had the best sleep in years. For some reason, the knowledge had eased her fears a little.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the stairs. Seeing she was still alone, she picked up the gun and inserted the magazine, pulling back on the slide to load the next bullet. Biting her lip, she looked around again. Tiny would be a few more minutes and if she moved fast, she could be gone before Doug came back down. She hated to do this to them, but the only way she was going to be completely free from her father was to kill him. Before she could chicken out, she grabbed the bodyguard’s wallet and car keys, then hurried out to the car and started the engine. Hopefully she wouldn’t get stopped by the police because her license was in the purse she’d accidentally left in the park’s bathroom when Pete Archer had arrived to get her. At the time, she’d been so freaked out, she didn’t realize it until they were on the plane, and by then it was too late.

  Throwing the car in drive, she was about to accelerate when she remembered Tiny telling her that the phone he’d given her could be tracked if she got separated from them. Pulling the cell out of her pocket, she dropped it out the window, then drove away.

  * * *

  “Hey, Nicky. Wake up.” Jake slapped him on the ass through the bedsheet.

  “Shit!” Nick flipped over on his back and glared at him. “What the fuck?”

  After pulling a T-shirt over his head, Jake tucked it into his jeans and threw on a pair of sneakers. “Craig Allman wants to meet in a half hour and it’s a twenty-minute drive from here.” Here being Jake’s apartment where the two of them spent the rest of the night after leaving The Covenant. “You coming or sleeping all morning?”

  Sitting up, Nick rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. “Jeez, what fucking time is it? And thanks. Now my ass is burning again.”

  “You’re welcome, and it’s oh-seven-hundred. Shake a leg, Junior.”

  Leaving the guy to get up and dressed, Jake headed out to the kitchen and threw a K-cup into
his Keurig. Grabbing a couple of travel mugs, he made one for Nick and another for himself. He’d woken to the sound of his cell phone ringing and wasn’t too surprised to find it was the fed calling him. Once he knew the extent of the ATF investigation into Wagner’s affairs, he would offer to help them in any way to get the son-of-a-bitch put away for a long time.

  The second mug finished brewing as Nick shuffled out of the bedroom, wearing his jeans from last night and one of Jake’s clean T-shirts. “Please tell me one of those is for me.”

  Jake handed him one. “Feel okay this morning?”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “But one question. Is it normal to get hard because my clothes are rubbing against the welts?”

  Chuckling, Jake grabbed his mug and car keys from the counter. “Yeah. It’s not uncommon. I’m told it’s an unconscious recall thing. Kind of like a certain scent triggering a memory. Your body is associating the sensations it’s feeling with sex.”

  Nick followed him out the door and to the truck. “Does that mean after a while, just the mention of a whipping is going to make me hard as a fucking rock?”

  “Pavlov’s dog? Yeah, it happens.”

  “Fucking great.” After they climbed into the SUV and closed the doors, Nick turned to him. “Listen. Remind me later to tell Ian and Dev not to mention anything about me coming out to my folks. They deserve to hear it from me and I want to do it in person when we see them for Thanksgiving in a few weeks. Is that all right with you?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Even with the morning traffic, they arrived at the truck stop, where Allman had suggested they meet, a few minutes early. Jake was sure the fed had taken extra precautions to make sure he wasn’t followed or tracked by a GPS, just as the two of them had. And the interstate gas station and diner was so busy with out-of-state truckers, no one would be paying any attention to three more men in their midst.