Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2)

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Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2) Page 6

by Suzanne Steele


  What. The. Hell?!

  My eyes refuse to accept what my brain is spelling out for me in five big neon letters. My feet get in on the act, too; no sooner do I stumble over nothing than I’m caught up in two massive arms that pull me into a wall of hard muscle. It’s a surprisingly gentle but firm embrace that, nonetheless, knocks the wind right out of me. It takes me a few seconds to clear my head as I stare up at him. I know I should push him away and try to regain my dignity, and I’m definitely planning on doing that very, very soon. That is, until an enormous hand begins rubbing slow circles against my lower back. He touches me as if he has every right to. The firm, possessive strokes make my mind go blank as my body softens against him. My breasts really like where they are, pressed up against his chest. What’s disconcerting is that he seems to like it too, if the impressive erection making itself at home against my stomach is any indication.

  “Thorn? What…what are you doing here?” I ask in a breathless whisper that sounds completely girly and seriously pisses me off, so I try again. “What are you doing here? Were you…hey, you were following me!”

  The cocky half smile he gives me causes a confusing mixture of anger and nostalgia to course through me. Standing before me is my childhood superhero, the object of my agonizing teenage crush. And he’s every bit as good looking as I remember. I can’t help myself; I take a moment to take it all in – this time with the eyes of a grown woman.

  A strand of dark brown hair falls over his forehead, just like the last time I saw him a decade ago. The nose that was broken in a fight years ago only adds to his tough good looks. It’s all I can do not to slide my fingertips across the five o’clock shadow that defines his strong jawline. And, oh, those gorgeous lips, still beautifully sculpted and full, despite the cocky grin he’s currently sporting. Gold-flecked hazel eyes study me with a mixture of intensity and humor…and something else, something new that makes my cheeks heat and my breath catch in my throat. The dimple in his chin completes the picture. It’s official: Thorn is even better looking than I remember.

  I push against his chest and after a stubborn second or two he lets me go. He leans back against his car, folding his arms across his chest. His hot gaze slowly travels down the length of my body and back up, blatantly lingering on my breasts and my lips until, finally, he locks eyes with me. When my nipples tighten in response to his heated attention, I’m beyond relieved to still be wearing conservative office clothes so the traitorous buds don’t steal the show.

  “I asked you a question, Thorn.”

  “I’ve got a question for you, little one. Since when did bosses start walking their employees to their cars?”

  The question catches me off guard. “What?” I ask, baffled. “How did you know… Wait a minute! How long were you following me, anyway?” I narrow my eyes and exhale harshly as the answer becomes obvious. “Oh my God,” I hiss, “Dad hired you to follow me. Again?! Thorn, I’m 24 fucking years old, for God’s sake!” Okay, stamping my foot like a child probably isn’t helping my cause but I do it anyway.

  He stares down at me steadily, as if he’s memorizing every detail of my face, filing away his memory of a little girl with pigtails and replacing it with…me.

  “One; I’m well aware you’re a grown woman now,” he says softly, his now hooded eyes roving hotly over me again. “And two; yes, your father has hired me. Wait, wait, now, shhhh…” he says, laying his finger over my lips when I immediately start to protest. “Now, I could have said no. Came real close to saying no. But here I am, and here I’ll stay.” He starts to take his finger away, but before he does, I close my eyes and press my lips softly against his warm skin. I do it without thinking, but in the next instant it registers and my cheeks heat up. I’m a full-grown woman who still blushes. Great.

  His body stiffens against me and I hear his breath hitch before he clears his throat and cups my jaw in his big hand. I close my eyes as he rubs his thumb softly over my lips, back and forth, as he speaks. “And three; I’m here to help you move and we’re losing daylight.” He moves his hand from my jaw and tilts my chin up between his thumb and forefinger, leaving me no choice but to look up at him. “Now, you still haven’t answered my question.”

  And with that, I’m jolted back to the reality of Thorn’s complicity in my father’s controlling behavior. I glare at him, our baffling, tender moment over and done as far as I’m concerned. “I don’t need you to help me move, I damn sure don’t need you as a personal bodyguard, and, not that it’s any of your business, but Dr. Brinkley was conferring with me -- one professional to another – about a particularly challenging case.”

  Thorn straightens and, in two lazy strides, is so close that all I can see is his massive chest. I take a step back to look up at him as he damn near growls, “Bullshit. He wants to fuck you.” He slowly starts to circle me, moving ever closer and manipulating the direction of my own steps until I feel my backside press against his car door. He stops in front of me and leans in, placing his hands on the car, one by either side of my head. My heart is racing so I take a deep breath and immediately wish I hadn’t; the man smells delicious, a combination of subtle cologne or body wash and something else that’s just him.

  Thorn leans in until his lips brush the shell of my ear. His breath is hot against my skin as he whispers slowly, “And that…will never happen…as long as I’m around.” He pauses for a moment and in the stillness I feel him take in a deep breath before briefly nuzzling my neck, the stubble on his cheek causing me to shiver. Did he…did he just smell me? Whatever he did, it was no accident and I lean in to him before I can stop myself. Then the moment’s over as he towers over me once again, cap pulled low and all business. “Get in your car; we’re moving.”

  I straighten my spine and poke my finger into his chest, determined to take back control of the situation. I’m shocked when I feel how solid it is. “Fine,” I huff. “You can help me move, but after that…no more following me.”

  Once again the smart ass smirk returns to his face. “Not gonna happen, baby. You’re never getting rid of me. I’m here to stay, whether you like it or not.”

  “Arrogant bastard,” I hiss under my breath as I shoulder my way past him and back to my car. I know he hears me because the bastard chuckles something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “Oh, I’ll make sure you like it.” Good lord. And I know he’s watching me walk away. Might as well throw a little extra attitude into my stride and show him that I’m not intimidated by his macho bullshit. Thorn is still an arrogant asshole; the years have done nothing to temper that.

  I settle in behind the wheel of my Jeep and wait for him to move his SUV so I can back out. I smack the steering wheel with my hand and crank up the radio, anything to drown out thoughts and images that I am not ready to examine yet.

  I cannot believe the day I’m having: I’m moving out to finally take charge of my life and get out from under my dad’s thumb, only to end up under Thorn’s. I shake my head to rid myself of the persistent image of me actually being under Thorn. I know deep down inside it isn’t Thorn I’m angry with, it’s me. It took a long time to get over my schoolgirl crush and stop feeling rejected. That’s exactly how I feel; like he abandoned me, like I was nothing but a job, a case, something my rich father paid him to do. The wound went deeper than I care to admit, but I dealt with it and life went on. And now he just walks back into my life like he never left, reigniting feelings I thought were gone. The difference is, this time the feelings aren’t childish and sweet. The ache in the pit of my stomach makes that clear enough. The feelings he’s stirring up in me are just like him: larger than life.

  Well, I don’t need a hero now, thank you very much, and I damn sure don’t need Thorn in my life just because he’s getting paid to do a job by my father.

  It’s settled, then. I’ll just tell him I don’t want him anywhere near me. I’m not about to let myself get pulled into his web again. The best way to avoid the storm of emotions that’s rolling through me
is to keep him at a distance. I have to get rid of him and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  Thorn

  Man, she is pissed and it’s sexy as hell. If I didn’t know any better I might think she’s mad at me for disappearing ten years ago. She is definitely seething with all the fiery anger of a woman scorned, even though she was only fourteen when her dad and I parted company. Someday she’ll realize I never meant her any harm, that my contract with her father had simply run its course. The only time I saw her dad in the decade that followed was a couple years later. Dr. Fairchild had upgraded to a bigger house in a gated community and wanted a security system installed. I took care of it while Windy was away at a summer camp for the week, something about forensic science, I think. My girl had the bug even then.

  Now that I’ve seen her in the flesh, I’m not backing off. Way back when, she was the daughter of a client and I looked out for her. I was there because her father asked it of me. But now? She’s a grown-ass woman, more than old enough to take me on. As far as I’m concerned, this is our time now. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that pompous boss of hers wine and dine her right into his bed. The thought of another man touching her eats at my guts like acid. Yeah, I’m back and this time it’s not as some kindly uncle; she needs to understand I’m a man and I’m taking what’s mine.

  Cash is right; if I expect to get anywhere with her I’m going to have to man up and make it happen. I guess it’s a good thing that’s the only way I operate. The protective feelings I always had for her have been kicked into high gear now, and I’m practically vibrating with an overwhelming sense of primal ownership. Based on her responsiveness to my touch just now, I think my girl may still be carrying a torch for me. I can work with that. I hope she won’t need much persuading, but if she does, I’m happy to oblige.

  We pull in to the gated community and weave our way through the neighborhood to the Fairchild home. Dr. Fairchild has done well for himself. This place definitely qualifies as “palatial.” I know this house as well as I know the Undercover Elite compound, having memorized every inch of it during the security installation.

  I jump out of my SUV to catch up to her as she takes the sidewalk to the front steps. I wonder how she’ll react if I tell her how hot she is when she’s pissed. She’s putting some extra sexy in her walk and I’m enjoying the view. I grin at the thought of her putting on a show for me as she struts up those steps – I’m just not sure if she realizes she’s doing it.

  She never even acknowledges me as I bound up the steps behind her and we make our way into her bedroom. She points at the boxes lined up against the wall.

  “Start loading them in your SUV,” she says dismissively as she reaches for a suitcase on the bed.

  Oh, no, baby; I’m here to help but I’m nobody’s butler to order around. I take slow, steady steps over to her, standing so close behind her that I can feel it when she starts breathing faster, deeper. I run my hands along her ribs until they come to rest across her flat stomach. “You’re awful bossy. Say please.”

  “What are you doing here, Thorn?” she asks weakly.

  Time to show her.

  Before I even have time to think about what I’m doing, I lock my hand in the long hair falling down her back and spin her around, pulling her tight against me. She opens her mouth to spout more bullshit, and I take full advantage of that situation as I tug on her hair and cover her mouth with mine. My whole fucking body is electrified as I slide my tongue against hers and she melts against me.

  Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. This time I’m here for the long haul.

  Windy

  His mouth crashes down on mine and his tongue probes as if he’s exploring every inch of my being. My knees go weak as I melt into him. He takes his free hand and places it at the small of my back, supporting me and pulling me into his hardness. Thorn is back, but this time he’s crashing over me like a tsunami, washing away my ability to think. All I can do is feel. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my breasts against his warmth. I’m in so much trouble and I know it. As I pant and pray for strength to remain standing, I am consumed by a hot, visceral, bone-shaking need for this man. I feel the walls I’ve tried to erect against him come crashing down around me. He pulls back and I open my eyes, getting lost in his heated gaze as his arms tighten round me.

  “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. You need to accept the fact that your life has changed, and I’m not talking about your apartment or your job. I’m back and this time I’m not leaving. You’re not a kid anymore, and I’m not some crush you daydream about.” Without taking his eyes from mine, he very deliberately curves a hand over my breast, massaging my flesh and running his thumb over the stiff peak. “What I am is the man who’s going to protect you from here on out. This isn’t child’s play, Windy. I’m staking claim on you, girl, here and now. It’s done, and there isn’t a damn thing you or your daddy can do about it.”

  He plants a hard, closed-mouth kiss on my lips before releasing me, his smoldering gaze lingering on my breasts and my swollen lips. Not a word is said as he lifts a large box with ease and makes his way down the stairs.

  What the fuck just happened? Thorn is acting like a jealous boyfriend. I’m staggered by the fact that he just declared that was he staking claim, as he worded it. He might as well have branded me with all the heat he poured into that kiss.

  Right now the best thing to do is focus on getting my stuff moved into the apartment -- just as soon as I can get my shaky legs to cooperate. As Thorn said, we’re losing daylight. I hate to admit it, but I’m glad I’ve got a muscle man escorting me to my new home the first night. The reality of what I’m getting ready to do is setting in and I’m a little bit more nervous about it than I expected to be.

  We finish loading the boxes in silence and once again he follows behind me in his SUV as I make my way downtown. I’m grateful our apartment has a garage because even at dusk with just a few street people starting to wander around, it isn’t somewhere I want to leave my car parked on the street.

  Melissa comes out and starts helping us unload boxes. She waits until he’s out of earshot before she grabs my arm and hisses in a stage whisper, “Who’s the hottie?”

  “He’s the muscle my dad recently hired to make me lose my effing mind,” I reply as I roll my eyes and balance a box in my arms.

  “Wait, that’s…your childhood crush you told me about?”

  “In the flesh.”

  “Well, honey, if you don’t want him, he can damn sure protect as much of me as he wants.”

  I grit my teeth. I try to backtrack so I don’t look like the jealous girlfriend, “I’m trying to get rid of him, not keep him around.”

  “Mm hmm, I just bet you are.”

  “Is this where she’ll be staying?” We both look up as Thorn makes his way over to the window, testing the lock. “I see there’s no security system here; I’ll have my guys here tomorrow morning to install one.”

  “I can’t afford that!” Melissa squeaks, going pale as she experiences firsthand the force of nature that is Thorn.

  “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry about it.”

  I bite my tongue to keep from saying something snarky about him coming in and just taking over.

  “You guys need a dog, too. I’ve got a friend who works the K9 unit so I’ll be getting you a guard dog.”

  Melissa and I look at each other in disbelief. As much as I hate to admit it, everything he’s saying makes sense. The two things he’s mentioned are the best crime deterrents I can think of. For the first time, I’m beginning to wonder if he might be handy to have around after all.

  Chapter Ten

  Thorn

  For the first time today the girl is at least smiling at me. It makes me wonder what she has up her sleeve.

  “Why are you being nice now?” I ask with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m just thinking you might be kind of handy to have around with me getting a degree in criminology
.”

  “Yeah, well, I knew I’d win you over.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  I turn to her roommate. “Melissa, I need you to be honest with me, have you had any break-ins here?”

  “Not break-ins, just creepy stuff like drunks knocking on the door in the middle of the night. One night someone threw a beer bottle against the side of the building. Most people in the neighborhood know I’m here to help people so they respect me. I’ll be honest; I hear gunshots and fights nearby sometimes. It can be scary being down here in this neighborhood alone.”

  “I still have a lot to do to get you two settled in – security system, guard dog. That sort of thing. I’d feel better about things if I stayed here tonight.”

  “There’s a spare bedroom.”

  I suppress a grin when I see Windy give her friend a dirty look. I guess she hasn’t warmed up to me yet. Looks like I still have some work to do on that front.

  “Oh, lighten up, Windy,” Melissa says impatiently. “I’d feel much better with an alarm and a dog. In the meantime, if he thinks you’ll be safer with him here tonight, then I say let him stay.”

  Windy cuts her eyes at me smugly. “You don’t have a change of clothes.”

  “I keep an overnight bag in my SUV,” I counter equally smugly, arching an eyebrow in victory.

  “Fine! Stay, I don’t care,” she huffs, throwing up her hands in frustration.

  “You two sound like a couple of kids,” Melissa teases as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head playfully.

  “Not a kid in sight,” I say quietly. “Not now.” Though I’m speaking to Melissa, I’m looking directly at Windy. I hear Melissa’s barely audible, “Whoa…” as she gives Windy a wide-eyed look. But Windy doesn’t see her because she’s looking at me. I think I’ve made my point, for now.

  I make my way around the building, inside and out, checking various doors and windows until I’m assured we are safely tucked in for the night. I sit at the kitchen table, entering some notes on my laptop and responding to emails. There are no fewer than three emails from Harley, asking about Windy. I can practically see his smug grin from here, the little shit.

 

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