To Blind a Sniper (Women of Purgatory Book 2)

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To Blind a Sniper (Women of Purgatory Book 2) Page 10

by India Kells


  He squeezed her buttocks before trailing his hands to her breasts and pulling her to him for a kiss. Lost in sensation, Mac yelped when he twisted, to top her again. With a wicked grin, he straightened, spreading her knees, pushing them up to her shoulders. In this position, he reached deeper and felt bigger, making her moan uncontrollably. His thrusts grew stronger, but it’s when he bumped her sensitive bundle of nerves that she realized how much she needed it.

  “Wes, unless you want to kill me or have a death wish yourself, make me come!”

  Wesley locked his jaw and intensified his thrust, pushing his cock deeper to almost the point of pain. Her hands clenched at his hard thighs, a silent warning. The blond rogue smiled and licked his fingers before expertly kneading her clit. At first, she thought she would orgasm on contact, but Wes’ caress only kept her on the edge, increasing the intensity. His touch was so inconsistent in rhythm and pressure, she reached another plateau of desperation.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I can’t wait to make you fly.” The lust and adoration in his voice would haunt her for a long time, she realized.

  He twisted his hips and his touch became anything but light and delicate anymore. Mac arched when the base of her spine tingled and pleasure took over her body, making her oblivious to everything except from the man between her legs. She was blind to the world but hyper aware of him. Of Wes. The heat of his skin, the smell of him mingling with a hint of soap. She heard his breath speeding up, as he reached his own release, his gasp caught before turning into a deep shout. Eyes closed, head bowed, he was the very sight of surrender. The sound alone made her tremble and cry out. She was lost. Wesley laid upon her, all of him against all of her and still intimately linked. Even if they weren’t supposed to be intimate, they were. And it was natural, necessary for her to close her arms around him.

  It’s when he settled, sighing in her neck, his arms embracing her, too, that she was the most stunned. He may not know it yet, but the man who only wanted to retaliate had found something more. And what scared her most was that she found something more, too.

  Chapter 11

  Mac lost all sense of time and space admiring the glowing embers in the hearth, so beautifully red, they shone like gems. She remembered her mother having a ruby necklace of that color, an extravagant piece of jewelry that made her look like a pagan queen in her own imaginative and young mind. Images of her, slowly walking down the curved staircase, a smile on her face made her heart ache. She may be nothing like her mother, she may have been even a deception to her, but she had loved her, and her father, very much. Her thoughts naturally drifted to her brother who now assumed full responsibility for their parents’ estate since they had both disappeared. She couldn’t help feeling she had let him down by leaving such a burden on his shoulders for so long. Gone were the embers and the warm skin against her cheek as she drifted to her homeland for a second.

  “Mac?” The rumbling against her ear made her return to the Seattle apartment in a rush. Melancholy and regrets didn’t have their place here right now.

  “Mmmm?” Her body was so lax, she didn’t even make the effort of answering.

  The quaking intensified as she realized Wesley was laughing. “Glad to know you’re still alive down there.”

  Mac lifted herself on her elbow to admire the gorgeous man sprawled on the floor she was using as a pillow. “Thanks for killing the moment.”

  Wesley frowned. “That wasn’t my intention, I was just worried to see you lost in your memories so much. It was as if you were thinking about something sad, you were so far away. Like remembering old ghosts.”

  It was frightening how much he was able to read her mind. Again, her only option was to deflect.

  “I’ve seen ghosts. Well, one ghost to be precise.”

  His mouth curved up slightly. “Really?”

  “When I was little, we lived in a historic house. And one night, I wasn’t more than ten years old, I was reading past my bedtime when I saw a blur.”

  Wesley put a hand under his head, his blue gaze fixed on her.

  “A blur? Don’t tell me a white veil of some sort.”

  “Are you mocking me? Because if you are, I can stop talking right now.”

  His fingers trailed up on her shoulder. “No, I wanna know the rest.”

  Satisfied that he wasn’t humoring her … well, not much at least, she continued. “It wasn’t a veil. When I looked at it directly it vanished. But when I got used to being in its presence, it appeared more like a slight human form.”

  “Weren’t you scared?”

  Mac tried to remember her reaction at that time. “Yes, at first, but curiosity took over I guess.”

  Wesley grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Mac continued. “One night, I followed her to the attic.”

  “Her? It was female, you’re sure?”

  “The more I saw the form, the more I realized it was female. When I grew the courage to pursue her, she led me to the attic where she stood there for a moment, by the window, before disappearing.”

  “Why did she bring you there?”

  “I was ten. I was too impressed to really understand what she wanted.”

  “But later on?”

  “I found an old family story that may be linked to her apparition.”

  “How old was the story?”

  Mac didn’t realize the conversation was taking a turn she wasn’t ready to reveal.

  “That, sir, will be for another episode.”

  He rumbled under her. “Again, you’re deflecting, Mac, the baker from the East Coast.”

  “You may not grasp it, but to me you’re full of secrets, too, Mr. Sorenson from the West Coast.”

  Instead of going down a path she couldn’t talk with him about, she turned the attention on the male body she didn’t have a chance to indulge in earlier. Idly, she traced healed lines and scars from his chest to his ridged abdomen and back up again. With a smile, she saw his muscles tremble and heard him groan before noticing his growing arousal.

  “If you continue, you’d better be ready for round two.”

  Mac smiled, but resumed her exploration until she reached his right thigh. The massage was doing him good, the tendons and muscles were suppler, and he definitely winced a little less under her hands.

  “How did it happen?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

  He sighed. “And you call me a buzz killer.”

  “You don’t have to answer; I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Wes exhaled, resigned. “Look at me.”

  Mac turned, putting her hand on his chest and her chin on her hand.

  “What has Owen told you about it?”

  Tough to reply, she had never even met the man. It was Lance who dropped bits and pieces about his brother, barely enough to have a clear image.

  “Not much, your brother never talked about you.” A lie by omission.

  He frowned. “I can never tell if you’re telling the truth or not. It’s like there is another layer to everything you say.”

  Unable to find something to say, she scrambled until she heard a phone ringing.

  “Yours or mine?”

  Wesley listened for the second ring. “Not mine.”

  Mac got to her feet and fumbled through her pants to get her cell phone. She saw Wesley smiling, putting his hands behind his head, admiring the view. She stuck her tongue at him, liking this light mood.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey! It’s me.” Mac immediately recognized Gabrielle’s voice. She turned to Wesley but kept a normal tone.

  “Hi. How are you?”

  “Good, but it’s not going so well for you.”

  “Why?”

  “We just learned out that Calvi hired two head hunters to find you.”

  “Shit!” Her outburst switched the mood in the room. Wesley sat up. He couldn’t hear what was said on the other end of the line, but he was able to read her. “So what
’s going to happen?”

  “I have four additional teams on the hunters. Lance is here and he has a possible lead on one of Calvi’s men. It could be the break we were all expecting. Beatrice also called Dogberry, who is working on it as we speak.”

  Mac closed her eyes. If Dogberry was on the hunt, it was bad. Worse, more people were in peril because of her. And the outcome wasn’t even certain. She was tired of hiding.

  “That won’t do. I’m done.”

  There was a silence at the other end of the line before Gabrielle continued. “Please tell me you’re not saying what I’m thinking, Mac.”

  “It’s exactly that.”

  Behind her, another phone rang and she saw Wesley getting up to answer. As the man’s attention wasn’t on her anymore, she spoke freely to her friend and boss.

  “I’m tired of hiding while you’re all jeopardizing your lives for me. I thought about it and returning to the open is the way to end it quicker.”

  “You mean by getting yourself killed?”

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take, more than waiting for one of you to die. Calvi won’t allow anybody but himself to kill me. It’s the only manner to bring him out in the open.”

  “Mac, I won’t allow it.”

  “I’m not asking you for permission, Gabrielle.”

  “I’m the team leader here, Mac.”

  “I quit. Pull back your teams, Gab. It’s over.”

  Mac ended the call and turned around to see the room empty, almost in complete darkness now as the fire had died down. Regret pinged at her heart, looking at where she had just been lying with Wesley a moment ago. She liked him. He had the same sense of honor and strength as his brother, Lance, and she valued those qualities. But it would also mean risking another life, and she was through with that. As she was retrieving her clothes and putting them on quickly, she started to scheme for her next move that would be to return to South America. Panama City to begin. It would be easier there to retrace his steps.

  In her mind, planning, she came to a halt at the back door. Wes, fully clothed in a pair of jeans, light-blue T-shirt, and boots, was standing by the exit, arms crossed with a frown deeply set on his face.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  Instinctively, she widened her stance, readying herself for a potential fight.

  “What are you doing, Wes?”

  “I’m asking you the same question, Lady Elorian Marion MacKinnon, sniper extraordinaire for Purgatory.”

  Her heart thumped in her chest. Very few people were privy to her aristocratic Scottish roots. And to be honest, she preferred it that way. It was often more of a ball and chain than true help.

  “Who revealed you my name? And that I worked for Purgatory?”

  “I just had a call from my brother, Lance, who was telling me interesting Intel on a sniper who is about to commit suicide.”

  So Purgatory was turning against her. She couldn’t hate them for it, they were trying to protect her, even if it was the dumbest way in her opinion.

  “I’m not about to kill myself.”

  “Well, the expression on your face tells another story.”

  “You’re not that good at reading me, Sorenson.”

  “I knew you were hiding something from me. From the first moment I saw you. And I called you out at the waterfront and in the alley weeks later. You were an operative. Lance just gave me the confirmation. You’re working for Purgatory, too; the same organization Lance occasionally collaborated with.”

  Mac didn’t corroborate it and preferred to keep her mouth closed.

  At her silence, Wesley cursed under his breath. “And you knew Lance and didn’t say a word to me.”

  “You weren’t to discover it, Lance’s order.”

  “Why?” The way Wesley took a step at her, almost made her take one step back. The panic laced with a dark edge she felt from him made her cautious.

  “You’re on recovery, covering for Owen as he’s away.”

  “So Owen knows, Lance knows, but Wes can go fucking blind. Did Owen tell you the same thing?”

  Mac sighed as she couldn’t lie anymore. “I never met Owen.”

  Hands on his hips, he locked his jaw before turning back to her. “Great, just great. Well, like it or not, I’m no longer on the bench. Deal with it.”

  “You’re not Purgatory. You don’t realize what’s going on, or why I’m here.”

  “Lance told me you would talk to me.”

  Mac crossed her arms. “Easy as that, little me will spill it for you. It doesn’t matter anymore as I just resigned from Purgatory, so there is no reason for me to say another word.”

  Wesley did something unusual. Mac couldn’t define it, but his posture changed, all of a sudden, he became relaxed, his hands in his pockets, his tall muscular frame lounging against the door, his eyes lowered to the floor. All her fire and punch evaporated inside of her. Only her determination, decisiveness, and a healthy dose of apprehension remained. Damn, the man was good, unpredictable. But she knew she was, too.

  Mac took a deep breath, moistening her lips, wondering how long it would take to convince him to let go, or find another way out of the apartment.

  “What would you do in my place, Wes?” A simple but trick question.

  The man only lifted his eyes and zeroed them on her. “If I would be tracked by someone dangerous who wanted revenge on me in the worst manner? With what I know of Purgatory, with what Lance told me about it, I would trust them, use all the resources they have. I would count on my team, seek their assistance instead of shutting them out.”

  “Right, says the man who wouldn’t even consider help for his wounded thigh.”

  Wesley took a deep breath that almost turned into a sigh. “You don’t understand what happened, you can’t imagine what happened … It changes your perspective.”

  “Then speak to me. There is more than the wound.”

  “Lance didn’t tell you?”

  Mac shook her head. “Lance only babbles when it suits his needs. And until very recently, I didn’t even realize he had brothers. I suppose it’s a way of keeping professional and personal separate, and to protect you in the same swing.”

  Wesley nodded, his gaze unfocused for a moment. Several times, she had seen him dazed in space, lost in his thoughts.

  “Let me go, Wes. You don’t want to get involved. I don’t want to involve Purgatory and the team anymore. I just want to end it.”

  Straightening, he took a step in her direction. “You have one of the most powerful organizations, the most competent people tracking that man down for you, and they didn’t find him yet. What makes you think you will be more successful?”

  Mac lifted her head to the man towering her. “I only have to appear. Once I’m visible, the threat will come for me, personally. And that will be my cue for killing him.”

  His blue eyes never wavered. “Nobody’s that good.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “I am. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have survived this long.”

  “I can’t let you do something that stupid.”

  “I’m not your team, Wes. I’m a sniper, I work alone.”

  He took another step forward, so close, he almost touched her. “I can’t.” The resolution in his voice made her wince.

  “Damn you with your honorable streak, Sorenson.”

  “It has nothing to do with honor.”

  Mac angled her head. “I swear, if you start something with the L word, I might feel the need to hurt you.”

  Now he smiled, and for a quick instant, she wondered about that L word coming from his lips. What it would sound like. “No, I was referring to the I word, for intuition. When Lance called, he also told me that they may have found something, a way to get the man who’s after you. Don’t you want follow that last lead? What if it’s the one?”

  Difficult to hang on to that option. “And if it’s not?”

  “What is your gut telling you, Mac?”

  She crossed he
r arms. “That you’re toying with my mind, and I don’t like it.”

  “Hear Lance out. It won’t cost anything but time.”

  “And if my gut tells me to follow my first idea?”

  Wesley opened his hands. “Then do it.”

  “And you won’t stop me?”

 

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