“Faulty?”
“Inaccurate,” Nick finishes before I can say another word, giving me an apologetic look that makes my boobs shrivel with annoyance.
Here’s the deal. I used to be CIA. I used to track bad guys and, yes, I am a kick-ass tracker and even better at kicking butt. I’m a better techie though, and I am not ashamed to admit that I’m a nerd either. I can write code and program with the best, and I know for a damn fact that if that program pinged a suspected militant with ties to Fazir coming into the U.S., then that man on the footage is definitely who it says it is.
I once tested that shit against a spook who was thought dead for a decade, and even used it to track him to a little town in Nevada where he’d set up a home with a wife and a step-kid.
I’d left him the hell alone because it had been real sweet, seeing a man who’d been practically arctic so happy just to have a shitty little house and a family to love. Besides, it was just a test to see if the thing worked.
Point is, I know it works, as unbelievable as it still feels to admit it. God, I kick ass right now. Me. I’m a genius and—
“It works, asshole, trust me,” Trace sneers, those golden eyes sparking as he leans forward and glares at Nick.
Nick, for his part, doesn’t seem too put out by Trace’s anger. He just smiles and raises an eyebrow.
“And you’d know this…?”
“Because I got a call from a contact not an hour ago, and they’ve confirmed that the man in the footage is Kopra, or at least that’s the name we hit on. It could be false. It doesn’t look one hundred percent like him because up till now he’s been in the wind getting that fuck ugly mug of his reworked, but it’s him. Jess’s program picked straight through the bullshit plastic surgery—as I knew it would—and caught him. What we should be focused on right now is the fact that he’s been stateside for a week and we have no idea why.”
I’m so shocked by his outburst and the fact that he just stood toe-to-toe with Nick for me that it takes me a second to realize what he said.
“Oh crap.”
“Christ,” Nick breathes, scrubbing at his face as the implications hit home. “Jericho, I want this place locked down and all the bells and whistles running—radar, heat seekers, IEDs on the perimeter. Fuck, they could already be on our doorstep.”
No shit, I think, swallowing loudly. Not to be a girl, but the thought of one of those monsters being this close after what I just went though is enough to make even me take a step back and think about running for the hills. It’s one thing to go into a mission that’s planned down to the letter, and another to open the front door and face off with a pit bull toting an AK.
I watched American Sniper, and while some people got the entertainment value and the whole love story, I got to see the realities, well, some of the realities that we faced in the heat of that place.
Butchers? Some of those terrorists were more, worse…unstoppable, unimaginably brutal. I’d take a bullet anytime over the stuff that some of those guys were willing to do to people, and I do not ever want to be in that situation again.
Trace must have seen the fear before I could mask it because he’s on me, pulling me into his chest, the minute the guys rise and start making tracks to close down the compound.
“I won’t let them near you again.”
“Wha-what if this goes bad?”
I haven’t had the courage to even think it since we started on this road, but now, with things so clear, so close, I can’t stop the question or the shudder that works itself through me as Trace hugs me tighter and strokes at what’s left of my hair.
“It won’t, Jess.”
“But—”
“No buts. You think I just pulled out of shit and came running back here for the job, woman? I’m here to build a life. Here for family and some sort of happiness, whatever that may be. I’m here because this is the only place I can be that has you and our family in it. I’m not about to let these pigs screw up the plans I’ve made, just because some fat shit on the hill is willing to let us catch them so that they can exploit them for information. If they come this way before we head south, I’ll kill them all,” he snarls into my ear, his breath gusting over me as my muscles relax.
It shouldn’t make me feel better, I know this, but just knowing that Trace says it’s so pulls me back from a meltdown and right on into the present.
I feel myself relax, feel my body go loose, and then I feel everything else too. The way his hands are no longer stroking but kneading my back, the heat from his skin, the achingly delicious hardness pressing into my belly right before he tips my face up and kisses me.
***
Trace
God, she tastes good, like the tea she was drinking and the same desire I’ve dreamed of for years—a desire that I have every intention of stoking to a white-hot blaze before finally letting my girl in on the fact that I’m aiming for a ring and babies.
Jess tenses for a breath of seconds before I feel her melt into me and open her mouth, letting my tongue into her for a deeper taste. The move has my lust, my need, going impossibly hotter, and before I can stop, I’m kissing her so hard and deep that all I taste in my mouth is her.
All I can smell and feel is Jess, and it’s so good that gone is the finesse I’ve always had, gone is the cool seduction. In its place is years of pent up need and want, as her little hands fist my shirt and she moans, sucking my tongue, licking into me as her arousal spikes.
This Jess I know. This Jess is the one who gave herself to me without question and trusted me to get her where she needed to be. And yet, as I keep ravaging her mouth with mine and let my hands wander, palming her luscious ass to pull her into me, closer to my pounding dick, I have the unsettling urge to stop.
Not because I don’t want her. God knows I do, and right now my shaft is so hard I can feel pre-cum oozing from the tip.
No, I need to stop because I swore to myself last night, as I lay in bed stroking my shaft, that the next time I get inside this woman it will be with nothing but honesty.
My thoughts halt abruptly though when I feel her hand slide into my jeans, her sharp little nails digging into the flesh of my ass cheek. And then I smell her. I swear to God I can actually smell her arousal as she touches me and attempts to climb me, rubbing her hot sex against my rock-hard thigh.
She’s wild, needy and moaning, as my dick overrides my brain for long seconds and I palm her ass harder, bringing her center over my shaft, the pressure and heat so welcome that we both groan our relief. I want to throw her onto the table and rip her clothes off. I want to lick and suck on every inch of her pearly skin and reacquaint myself with the flavor of her sex. And then I want to take her so hard that I’ll forget that just months ago I was willing to forget that we belong together.
Jess is still riding me, bucking her sex against me when sanity returns. She hisses her displeasure when I finally manage to push her away and take in the flush on her cheeks and the hard points of her nipples through her shirt as she glares at me, panting.
“Not like this,” I groan, setting her back on her feet and stepping back, ignoring the pulse of pain that unsated lust spikes through me.
“What?”
She’s blushing, no doubt angry and mortified that we were dry humping like teenagers just moments ago. She’s probably pissed that it was me who pushed her away instead of the other way around.
“Not like this. I don’t want the first time I get back inside you to be about raw animalistic sex and just scratching an itch,” I grit out, stepping back and breathing through my mouth to stop the sweet scent of her need from snapping what little control I’ve managed to wrestle back.
Jess flinches and takes a step back too, her cheeks going white as realization hits and her natural distrust of me returns. It actually hurts a little to see her snap back into that place where I know she despises me, but I force myself not to react as I take deep breaths and try to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing. I’m a h
eartless bastard, and yes, I admit that I’m playing a really shitty game with her right now, but I planned my course already, and I know what I need to do to ensure that she falls for me again.
Jess is a simple woman, a no-nonsense, strangely romantic being, who relies on her knowledge as much as her emotions. To win her, I need her to love me so much that she can overlook the fact that I’m not worthy of her, not when I’m incapable of anything more than sex and the specter of emotions.
Hell, at this point if I fucked her, I know that she’d walk away with a smile and a small amount of satisfaction that I have no hold on her anymore.
That can’t happen, because while I may be a sonofabitch for even thinking of tying her to a barren wasteland like myself, I have already admitted that I’m selfish.
Selfish enough to want a wife and family—even though I have no place even considering those things. Selfish enough to know that, while I may not be capable of love, not the love that she deserves, I want to feel loved and wanted.
So yeah, no sex till she wants me so much all she’ll smell, taste, and see is me.
That can’t happen when—right now—she’s on a mission to screw me and walk away. Yeah, I know all about how Jess and the guys are plotting to give me my comeuppance. Apathy?
This woman couldn’t pull off apathy if her life depended on it, though God knows it was plenty amusing to watch her attempt it when we both know that one look from me has her panties melting.
“You know what, you’re so right. We shouldn’t do this. I need to remember that screwing you may be fun while the orgasm lasts, but afterward it’s just one lousy orgasm and nothing else,” she grates, shaking her head as a sigh escapes.
“Jess.”
“And you know what, Trace? The orgasms aren’t that great to begin with anyway.”
I snort at that and smirk because we both know that’s not true. I can make this woman come with nothing more than my mouth on her breasts and a few wicked words.
“Yeah? I remember a time when you came so hard you passed out beneath me.”
My words are gritted between clenched teeth because, yeah, my pride took a hit on that one, no matter how untrue I know her words to be. Call me a caveman, but having your girl tell you that you’re nothing special is a kick to the balls.
Jess shrugs as if not at all concerned and rolls her eyes.
“Meh. I was tired that day, and as I recall, you couldn’t wait for the sex long enough to even say hello to me. You were on me before the freaking door even closed.”
Because we’d been apart for over a week when she flew back to Washington to give a report before being sent back. My freaking balls were so blue by then that I walked around with a hard-on constantly and almost got my ass blown apart because I wasn’t paying attention when we went out on a sweep.
Still…
“Huh. So, you’re saying you don’t think about it? That you don’t burn inside just remembering the way we were together?” I ask softly, letting my eyes rake over her again. “You don’t get wet just thinking about the way I could eat you out for hours, making you come over and over again till you were so wet I slid into your tight little sheath and filled all those empty places?”
She looks away then, and I have to fight a grin when her nipples go harder and the cadence of her breath becomes choppy, the flush on the upper swells of her breasts telling their own story.
Right now, I’d kill to make it a reality again, and from the way she’s clenching her thighs, I bet I could touch her and have her begging for me.
“You are an asshole. Sex, that’s all it ever was between us and sure, fine, maybe I still have a hard-on for you, but you know what, Trace? That’s all it is and all it’s ever going to be.”
Ouch.
“You think so?”
“I know so,” she grates, cutting me down with a filthy glare. “Like you said, it would be like scratching an itch, but once it’s done…” she shrugs and rolls her eyes.
I know her game, but even knowing that she’s all talk, I can’t stop the possessive need to claim and conquer from rising to the fore. Plans? Gone? Intentions? Fuck them, I think as lust, anger, and desperation settle deep in my gut, making the knot of loneliness and want wind tighter.
“A wager then.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Simple, Jess baby, once we nab the bad guys and stick it to the assholes in the Capitol, you and me.”
“You and me what?” she asks suspiciously, eyes narrowing when I smile darkly and give her another lascivious once over.
“We give things a try. I’m talking dating, the whole nine yards. I’ll take you out and woo your sweet ass and make you want me so much that by the time I take you, you’ll be so in love with me you won’t breathe without needing me.”
I’m an arrogant ass but screw this noise, I want her. She’s injured my manly pride, and goddammit, how can she honestly stand there and act as if what we had was nothing?
I saw her mourn me. I watched her shut herself off from life and pretend that she didn’t feel. I had to accept that she was screwing one of my best friends and was ready to give him everything I could never have.
She laughs at my words, and I feel my eye twitch when she doubles over, tears of mirth streaming from her eyes for long seconds before she straightens and chortles disbelievingly.
“You? Dating? Doing more than just sex and your whole dominant male thing? Puhleeze, Trace. You’re about as capable of delayed gratification as a horse is of heels.”
Huh.
“Okay, then you have nothing to lose, have you?”
I’m grinning, as I throw down the challenge and just keep from laughing when her eyes widen and she realizes that I just neatly maneuvered her into a corner. One thing about Jess…she can’t stand losing. I know good goddamned well the woman would rather hew her own foot off than back down from a dare.
Well played, Trace my man, well played.
“And just to make things a little more interesting, I say we up the ante and move in together while we run this little experiment.”
Because I need her living under my roof, eating food I provide, sleeping close and filling my space. Why? Because the reminder that she had Storm, that he cared for her and gave her all the things a man gives his woman, still makes me so mad it’s a wonder I haven’t attacked him.
I want to give her those things and so much more. Most of all, I need to give her those things because the animal in me needs to erase Storm’s role and replace it with me—and only me.
Where this is all coming from is a mystery. All I know is that I can’t let go of the thought that she could slip away from me because she rightly assumes from my past behavior that I’m not enough, not a man she can rely on in every way.
Whatever. Fuck. I can’t think past the fact that in less than a week, if my plans pan out, she’ll be moving on and I’ll have lost her.
“You’re on, dickhead.”
And that, my friends, is how you play the game.
Chapter Nine
Jess
The man is an idiot, an ass, a freaking genius, I think hours later, as I keep track of the faces running on the screen as Jericho sits beside me, grunting sporadically and chuckling when I studiously ignore him.
Why, oh why, did I have to go and take that challenge? Why can’t I just be like normal women? You know, the ones who throw a guy the bird and grind his balls beneath their designer heels?
But no, I have to be completely turned on by a man who uses manipulation and my own weaknesses against me to get what he wants. Though honestly, I’m more impressed and amused by the fact that he thinks he so stealthily maneuvered me.
I say “think” because that’s exactly what is going on here. First off, I’m a trained individual, who also happens to have the mental acuity that comes along with having a vagina.
After that scorching hot kiss? I was a goner for sure. I haven’t bonked, boinked, bumped, or ground any
thing in so long that I was starting to fear my vag had crawled up and died.
That kiss? Sheer and unadulterated heaven, along with the fact that I was so gone for Trace I climbed him like a tree. Who can ignore that kind of sexual heat? Who in their right minds can take something so rare and just walk away from it because morals and principles and pride rule the day?
Not me, that’s for damn sure, I muse as I turn to Jericho and give him a cheesy grin. Yup, Mr. Trace, the Super Spook, definitely took what I threw out there and ran with it. Straight into the end zone where I was waiting and ready to do a victory dance.
He thinks I’m averse to dating? Let’s all snort here, please! I’m a woman; I like being wined and dined. He thinks I’m afraid to live with him? I’ve lived years without him and been so freaking miserable I was willing to surround myself with other people’s children just to attain one of my life goals.
I lost everything when I lost him, and while it’s taken me a while, I know, know deep down, that no matter what came before, or how angry I still am at him for some things, I’d rather live with his arrogant ass and fight every day than go one day without him.
Sounds weak, but it’s how I feel right now and, darn it, I’m just happy that if we all survive being stalked by crazy, gun-and-bomb-happy losers, I’ll have something to look forward to.
Namely marriage, babies, and a house that I can finally call my own. Not Rachel’s, not that little place I lived in before, and not some lonely little cottage in Mayberry. No siree, I’m looking at acreage where I can watch my million kids run around on while my man mows the lawn for three days.
“Christ, you look impressed with yourself, Jess sweetheart. What did you do to the ass now?” Jericho laughs, making my grin morph into a full-on laugh that makes me feel wickedly satisfied.
“Nothing too bad,” I say airily, narrowing my eyes at him as he reaches down and cracks a drawer in the desk, pulling out a bottle of something golden brown and two glasses.
My first sip makes my eyes water and plead for mercy, but I swallow again and discover that whatever Jericho is hoarding is old, and very expensive since it’s smooth as heck.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 82