This time, he toppled over the edge right along with her, emptying everything he had on one last, brutal thrust.
Will laced their fingers together and set her hand back on the edge of the couch. They came down together, breathing hard and still connected, sweat slicking their skin everywhere they touched.
Slowly, because damn, there was a part of him that didn’t want to, he slipped free then went to his knees, gently working her jeans down her legs and helping her step out of them.
With a firm grip and gentle hands, he turned her, scraped his beard up along the length of one leg and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh.
He stood and let himself stare at the devastated perfection of her body. The hard nipples, the sex-mussed hair. The way her chest flushed, and her legs trembled.
“I don’t think I’ll ever see anything so beautiful as you, wrecked and ruined, as you try to catch your breath while my come slides down your thighs.”
She straightened, then turned her back on him and headed toward the bedroom.
For a second, he thought he’d gone too far, said too much, been too crass.
But when she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder and her lips turned up in something wicked and wild and welcoming. “You lack imagination, Bennett—you’ve never seen me on my knees.”
Helpless to do anything else, he followed her into the bedroom and willingly into her trap. “That, I’d like to see.”
She sat at the edge of the bed, leaned back, and braced her weight on her elbows. Spreading her legs as wide as her smile, she said, “You first.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dappled sunlight danced across her eyes, pulling Cooper from the warmth of a nap. The truck shifted as Will made a sharp right turn, then shimmied as it left smooth pavement and churned over a rough-cleared road.
They were getting close, then.
Cooper stretched, her back arching and toes curling, and sighed.
“I like the sounds you make.” Will settled a palm against the top of her jean-covered knee, then slid it up her thigh. The gesture was warm and familiar and as friendly as it was intimate.
“Do you?” She turned her head and opened her eyes, staring at his profile as their little 4X4—an ancient Toyota pickup that guzzled gas and belched exhaust—bounced along a road.
“Satisfaction looks good on you.” Afternoon sunlight punched through the canopy like Morse code. He shifted gears, and the tires churned and spat, eating through ground softened by recent rain.
She grinned. Though his words were all ego, she couldn’t quite muster the energy to bust his balls over it. As far as she was concerned, he’d earned that cocky tone and smug smile. She’d told him she wanted to feel him the next day, on her skin and in her body, and once he’d set himself to the task, he’d been single-minded and creative in his devotion.
And then some.
Eventually, they’d slept, but only in quick, rejuvenating snatches, before they were giving in and consuming each other again. As a result, they’d had to trade off driving duty to get caught up and rest. Thank God they were both accustomed to grabbing sleep when and where they could find it. Still, as satisfied as she was—and she was very, very satisfied—she did wonder what it’d be like to simply lie in bed with him, wrapped in the knowledge that there was time. That they had more than a single night to explore everything that lay between them.
Ironic. She’d never wanted more than a night with anyone else. Yet with Will, she wanted weeks, months, years. Time. To explore and conquer. Escape and surrender. Fuck and sleep.
God, she wanted to sleep with him.
A long, lazy lie-in after a rough and tumble night—the ultimate indulgence.
And one they couldn’t afford.
“How far out are we?” Cooper turned her attention back to the here and the now and searched through her bag for a protein bar and a bottle of water.
“About fifteen miles.” He waved off the bar she offered him. “Hey, Coop?”
“Ugh, nothing good follows that sentence.”
He shot her a grin. “We’re good, right?”
When she just looked at him, he elaborated. “I mean, I know you said I could . . . you know . . . without a condom.”
“‘You know’?” she repeated, complete with finger quotes. “Really? Now you’re shy?” She snorted. “After the things that came out of your mouth—hell, after where you put your mouth—you’re seriously going to get all conservative on me now that the sun’s up?”
He huffed. “I just want to make sure everything’s covered.”
She laughed. “Nothing was covered, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” When he shot her a frustrated look, she rolled her eyes. “I got an IUD—long-term birth control—the last time I was on leave. I’ve got another two years before I even need to worry about replacing it. So if you’re worried about accidentally creating little Bennetts, don’t. We’re good.”
“Okay.” He sighed, relief relaxing his hands on the wheel. “Okay, good.”
The silence didn’t last thirty seconds. “My last tests were clear, too. In case you were wondering. I hadn’t been with anyone since my last round of labs and then . . .”
And then Colombia. And then captivity. And then he’d had things other than sex on his mind. She got it, and she didn’t need him to say it.
“Never even crossed my mind to worry about that.” When he didn’t say anything, she put her hand on his forearm. “I’m not a reckless person, Will. This job, it kinda weeds that out.”
“Then why’d you let me—”
“Because I know you. Know the kind of man you are. If you’d thought for even a second that there might be a reason to wait, you’d have said so.” She gently scratched her nails along his skin. “You’d never put me at risk like that.”
The tires caught and spun. He downshifted, jabbed the accelerator, then looked at her as they shot forward. “No, I wouldn’t.” He moved his arm, then picked up her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles.
A breathy laugh escaped her.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re a constant contradiction, Bennett.”
“Am not,” he grumbled.
“Domineering and filthy one minute, total gentleman the next.” She shrugged. “The contradiction suits you. The straight-laced soldier without the clean-cut look.” She leaned across the narrow cab, scraped her teeth along the edge of his jaw. “The beard looks good,” she admitted, deliberately putting her lips against the ear he worked so hard to hide. “But I wanna see you without it, too.” She licked the lobe, traced her tongue along the edge, pressed her lips to the ragged curl that was left. He shivered—she’d discovered just how sensitive that ear was last night—then went very, very still, but didn’t pull away.
“Why?” he asked, and she sat back before she started something there would be no time to finish.
“Why what?”
“Why would you want to see . . . that?”
With her index finger, she brushed the hair back and tucked it behind the back of his half-missing ear. “I like the beard.” A lot, she thought, rubbing her thighs together. “But I have this image I can’t seem to get out of my head. You all neat and tidy, with a clean shave and a fresh cut.” She grinned. “I can see it all—the dress uniform, fresh pressed and fitted. Buttons shined. Shoes gleaming. Captain America come to life. A man who comes across that clean-cut can inspire a woman to do some seriously dirty things,” she said, watching out of the corner of her eye as his jaw flexed and his weight shifted. She shrugged and propped her elbow against the window. “Personally, I’d like to do them with you.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice thick and dry.
“Any time you’re ready, Bennett.” She grinned. “I’ve still got that razor . . .”
“And I still need to return the favor.”
Heat pooled low and heavy at the image those words elicited.
Climbing a sharp h
ill, they rounded a corner, and dipped straight into a washed-out gulch.
“Shit.” The truck bottomed out hard, then fishtailed when he hit the accelerator. Mud sprayed, and the back end shimmied. He tried reverse, but the wheels just squealed and whirred and turned and the truck sank farther into the mud.
“Damn it.”
Cooper let out a heavy sigh. “How far out are we?”
Will checked the trip odometer. “Ten miles—might as well be fifty with the ground this saturated.” He slapped his hand on the steering wheel. “It’s gonna be a hell of a hike and approaching the rendezvous on foot isn’t ideal.”
“Never was.” She zipped her pack shut as an engine revved out of sight and over the hill ahead of them.
“Locals?” he asked but turned the engine over and shoved the truck into first.
“Oh God, that’s not a truck.” High-pitched and frenzied, the noise of multiple engines cut through the surrounding jungle. “ATVs,” she said, just as four of them appeared at the top of the rise in front of them.
“Ah, shit we’re being flanked,” Will said, glancing into the rearview mirror.
Cooper turned to look out the window, and sure enough, three more ATVs appeared behind them, approaching fast.
“God damn it, they knew we’d bottom out here. That the road would be impassable.”
Dread coiled, tight and angry, like a cottonmouth in her gut. Pumping adrenaline instead of poison through her veins.
“What do we do?” she asked, though she damn well knew the answer. Nothing. There was nothing they could do. “Bail?”
“And go where? Jungle’s too dense to outrun them. You’ve got your rifle, but there’s no room to maneuver in the cab, and the second you step out with a weapon, it’s over.” He nodded toward the semiautomatic rifles strapped across the chests of the approaching men. “We’re outgunned and outnumbered.” He reached for her hand, squeezed it once. “We’re gonna have to cooperate and hope this doesn’t all go straight to shit. Don’t panic. And don’t fight unless you have to. Could just be another security protocol.”
Something heavy hit the driver’s side door with a thwack and a second later, the doors locked down and the dashboard electronics died.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” Will yanked the handle of his door, then tried to manually raise the lock.
“Will!” she yelled at the same time she saw the lead driver bring a weapon to his shoulder and fire.
Something hurtled through the windshield, the glass cracking and splintering from corner to corner.
Smoke filled the cab, stinging her eyes and clogging her lungs.
“Try to hold your breath,” he said on a hacking cough.
Tears streamed down her face and she gagged but got her boots up on the dash and tried to kick out the windshield. No dice. The dash was too high, and she couldn’t get the leverage. With the steering wheel in the way, Will fared no better.
Smoke filled her lungs as Cooper gasped, her need for air outweighing her fear of whatever was filling the cab.
“Try the window,” Cooper said, her thoughts fuzzy and her vision narrowing to a painful point. She coughed and wheezed and tried not to focus on the fear clawing its way through her.
“Fuck.” He turned, and Cooper braced his back as he kicked at the window. Once, and it cracked. Twice, and it shattered.
But it was too late.
“Cooper . . .” Will coughed, the smoke so thick and heavy she could barely see him.
He collapsed into a hacking, coughing fit, then went still and silent against her.
She reached for him, got a fistful of his shirt, and toppled back when the passenger door was jerked open.
She was out before she hit the ground.
Her head throbbed.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Something coarse rubbed against her cheek.
Cooper pried open her eyes, blinked back against the sunlight that intensified the pounding in her head until it sounded like waves beating against rocks.
She took a deep breath, forced back the nausea, and tasted salt.
“Coop?” Will whispered, his voice thin and tight and low. “You awake?”
She nodded, then regretted it.
What the hell had happened?
A gull cried and some of the fog receded. She sat up and stared out over an endless blue ocean.
“Where are we?” she asked as the world settled and the memories began to piece themselves together. When Will didn’t answer, she glanced around. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Death? Yeah, it had occurred to her, though if that had been the end goal, it would have been better to just shoot them in the car and be done with it.
But whatever her expectations had been, waking up on a sprawling veranda overlooking the ocean hadn’t been one of them. Six stone arches spanned the width of the room, and white curtains restlessly undulated in the breeze.
She stood on wobbly legs, unpolished travertine beneath her feet. Cooper put her hand down for balance and realized she’d been left on a canvas-covered daybed.
“Coop?”
Confused and still getting her bearings, she scanned the room and spotted Will, hands and ankles bound to a sturdy wood chair in the corner. “Untie me,” he rasped out, pulling against the restraints.
“You okay?” She unsteadily worked her way toward him and came back to herself a little more with each lungful of salty ocean air. “Will?” she asked when he didn’t answer.
He jerked against his restraints, the chair scraping heavily against the floor. “G-get me out of these.” Sweat slicked his brow and saturated his shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest. He clenched his eyes shut and she watched as he fought, face pale and gray, to control his breathing. “Untie me,” he mumbled.
Shit.
Life came hurtling back at full volume and with high-def clarity.
He was panicking.
Of course he was.
She moved fast. “I’m coming, hang on.” She reached him in three determined strides, settled her hand on his shoulder, and ignored the way he flinched. “Just hold on, let me find something to cut the ties.”
“That won’t be necessary,” a voice said from across the room.
Cooper glanced up to find a man standing in the open French doors, two bottles of water in hand. Mid-fifties and fit, he was tan, and his hair and beard were a salt-and-pepper set. None of this made any sense—the house, the man. None of it felt threatening and all of it set her nerves on edge.
“As I told Mr. Bennett, we’ll remove the restraints if he’ll simply calm down.”
Cooper slid her gaze from the middle-aged man to the one lingering in the corner. Compact—he couldn’t have been over five ten—but densely built, he stood near the door in tactical pants and a t-shirt, a gun at one hip and a radio at the other.
“Cut me loose, you fuck, and I’ll show you calm,” Will wheezed.
“I’m Dr. Mitchell,” the middle-aged man started, “and this is Vargas. If you’ll just—”
“He’s not going to calm down while he’s tied to the damn chair,” Cooper snapped.
On an aggrieved sigh, Dr. Mitchell set down the water bottles. “This isn’t productive,” he told Vargas. “He’s one man. I assume you can manage that.”
“Fine.” Vargas pulled a folded knife from his pocket and Cooper put herself between him and Will.
“There’s no need for that.” Vargas extended the knife to her, still folded and handle out. “But do see to it that Mr. Bennett doesn’t do anything drastic.”
Cooper didn’t hesitate. Just snatched the knife from his hand and hurried back to Will.
“Hold still, okay?” She braced her hand on his knee and slipped the blade between the ties and his ankles, freeing his legs. “Two more. Just breathe.”
He shuddered beneath the palm she settled on his shoulder.
“Just hang on.” His hands were red and angry, the zip ties brutally tight, but she carefu
lly worked her blade between skin and plastic. When the last one gave way, Will sprang from the chair, knocking it over with a heavy thunk.
“Who are you?” he snarled, pushing Cooper behind him and backing them toward the open arches.
Cooper glanced over the rail. Fifty feet up. Jagged rocks below. If Will wanted out of here, they weren’t going that way. “Hey,” she said, softly settling the flat of her palm between his shoulders.
He glanced back at her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” And so are you. She didn’t say it, didn’t want to call any more attention to just how hard this had been on him, how much it had stressed him. Instead, she rubbed her hand up and down his back and waited for him to settle.
When he took his first full, slow breath, she stepped out from behind him and settled in next to him.
“How did we get here?” she asked Dr. Mitchell but kept her eyes on Vargas.
Mitchell sighed. “Atlantic I & I is very . . . diligent in their security protocols, I’m afraid. They insisted on the ambush and the knockout gas. For my protection,” he added, as if that helped.
“You couldn’t have just black-bagged us or, I don’t know, asked politely?” Cooper snapped, watching as Will rubbed circulation back into his wrists. Though to be fair, that wouldn’t have been any less stressful for him. “Was all of this really necessary? Atlantic gave us your coordinates.”
“Yes, we did,” Vargas said. “Over the phone. Without oversight—”
“But after multiple levels of authentication!” Will stepped forward on a snarl, and Vargas snapped to attention, his hand hovering over his pistol.
“We don’t take chances with our clients, Mr. Bennett. We had no way to ensure you wouldn’t be compromised or followed.” Vargas widened his stance but didn’t move from the corner of the room. “Our methods, while uncomfortable for you, were necessary for Dr. Mitchell’s safety.”
“Where are we?” Cooper asked. “It’s not the coordinates you gave us—I checked satellite imagery of that stretch of coastline. An estate this size would have shown up.”
Fearless (Somerton Security Book 3) Page 19