“My life wasn’t…wasn’t in danger then. It was just a few nasty emails…”
Since I’d hacked his email account, I knew it was more than just a few, and nasty didn’t even begin to cover it. I’d also seen the police report about his vandalized car. Since he was so paranoid about things being leaked to the press, I had to wonder if there were things that had happened that he hadn’t told the cops. He certainly hadn’t let them know about the emails.
Which was why they’d attributed the car to a simple act of teenagers being assholes.
“So, you figured Brody wouldn’t be upset about you being the target, just that his name had come up?” I probed.
Nathan didn’t respond, so I finished up the stitches and then dug around in my bag for the stuff I’d need to treat the small puncture wounds on his fingers.
“You said we were going to your place,” Nathan said after several minutes of silence. “Where is that?”
“West Virginia…near the George Washington and Jefferson National Forest.”
“West Virginia? I can’t go that far away from home. I have meetings, interviews…I need to be near Charleston.”
I held onto Nathan’s hand when he tried to pull it free. I could sense a major blowup in the making, but I wasn’t in the mood. Between the close call tonight and the fact that I hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past three days, I was wiped.
“You’re going to have to make other arrangements,” I said simply.
“No, I-”
“Listen,” I bit out. “I’m not going to keep having this argument with you. Until we figure out who wants you dead – and make no mistake about it, because that guy with the knife sure as shit meant business – you and I are joined at the hip, only my hip’s in charge, got it? You do what I say, when I say. You don’t like it, there’s the door,” I said as I jerked my head over my shoulder.
Nathan hardened his jaw. Before he could respond I said, “Believe me, you’re the last guy I want to be spending the foreseeable future with, so I’m more than motivated to figure out who the fucker is that tried to skewer you tonight like a shish kabob…but if you think you can do better on your own, by all means.”
I forced myself to calm down, which wasn’t something I had to do often. The fact that this man brought out such strong emotions in me wasn’t a good thing.
Not by a long shot.
I quickly wrapped Nathan’s hand with a bandage to keep the smaller wounds clean, and then I slapped a bottle of ibuprofen on the table. I stood up and grabbed the revolver from my ankle holster and placed it on the table. “I’m going to take a shower. Someone comes through that door, pull the trigger…or don’t,” I snapped. “I don’t give a fuck.”
I pushed back my chair and stepped past him and went to the bathroom, stopping only long enough to grab my overnight kit from my bag. Not only were my emotions raging, my dick was, too.
Another oddity for me. Not because my sexual appetites had waned as I’d gotten older, but because I usually had more control over myself when I was working.
I hurriedly stripped off my clothes and climbed into the shower. I’d purposefully left the water on cool in the hopes it would drive down my libido, but even as a chill swept through my body, my dick bounced against my abdomen, demanding attention.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I reached for the knob and turned it up so that hot water began to sluice down my back. I slapped one hand against the tile wall and went for my dick with the other. I pulled up the image of the final time David and I had made love. He’d been in rare form that night, considering how much he’d been struggling in the previous months. I’d thought that moment had been about renewing our relationship after all the strain losing our careers had put on us and our commitment to one another.
I hadn’t realized it had been goodbye.
David had ridden me for the better part of an hour that night. It’d been like he’d never wanted that moment to end.
Because he hadn’t.
Our demons hadn’t found us when we’d been lost in one another’s bodies.
I closed my eyes as David’s hands settled on my chest to brace himself.
So perfect, Vincent. Love this…you.
I’d let him roll his hips above mine over and over again as he’d brought us both to the edge countless times, but when my impeding orgasm had become too much to ignore, I’d sat upright and wrapped my arm around his waist. David had shifted enough so he could curl his legs behind me, forcing my dick even deeper into his body. His arms had locked around my neck as he’d held on to me and we’d moved as one.
I’d told him to promise me it would always be like that.
He hadn’t answered me.
Two days later I’d realized why he hadn’t when I’d found him dead in our bathroom.
My dick started to deflate as an image of David’s body jumped into my head. I let out a string of curses and released my cock. Well, I’d wanted the inconvenient erection to go away.
Mission accomplished.
I turned so that I was facing the water and began washing myself with the small, heart-shaped soap that I had to pry free of the plastic film protecting it. I let my thoughts wander to what I knew about Nathan and how I’d find the guy who was out to silence him.
While I’d read all of the emails his would-be stalker had sent him, I hadn’t found any clues as to the man’s motive or identity. But he wasn’t your run-of-the-mill fanatic. If I hadn’t seen the hardware he’d been carrying tonight, I would have known that just from the steps he’d taken to cover his tracks with the emails. He’d used dozens of ISPs all over the world to mask his true IP address, which meant it would be next to impossible to figure out his location. The emails themselves had spewed a lot of filth about Nathan’s change in political positions, so in theory, it could be a disgruntled former constituent who’d expected him to follow through with the conservative values he’d grown up with. While Nathan hadn’t actually run as a Republican, there’d been a lot of money spent by his father’s political backers to get the ball rolling.
Chandler Wilder was the epitome of right-winged conservatism, and it wasn’t unusual for that faction to have some fanatics mixed in. From everything I’d seen, Chandler had stayed out of the public eye in recent months after lambasting his oldest son for his unexpected and uncharacteristic change in party loyalty. The deluded man had gone on to spout a bunch of scripture shit to whoever would listen about the devil luring his child away from the side of the good and righteous. So it wasn’t unreasonable to think that someone loyal to the senior Wilder would take it upon themselves to get vengeance for dear old dad. Hell, Chandler could even be pulling the strings…wouldn’t be the first time I’d seen blood turn on blood.
I let my thoughts drift to the man I’d seen attacking Nathan, hoping some small detail in my mind would stand out. I hadn’t seen much through the window once the pair had hit the floor, but as I’d raised my gun to shoot out the glass, I’d seen Nathan say something to his attacker as he’d stood against the wall, blood dripping from his hand and the bruise on his jaw already forming.
He’d looked pissed, not scared.
I’d admired that.
Not that I’d ever admit that to him.
I’d seen pictures of Nathan during my research, but they hadn’t done him justice. Maybe because they’d all been props. Perfect hair, bright smile, tailored suit…empty eyes. But tonight, he’d looked…human.
Not to mention the vulnerability I’d seen and heard whenever he mentioned his brother…
I realized my mistake as my dick began to harden again. My plan had been to try and ferret out useful information that would help me be rid of Nathan Wilder sooner rather than later, but my cock was only interested in the memory of Nathan’s hard body beneath mine…his smell…his ticked up breathing that could have been from fear…or something else.
I ignored my dick and quickly washed my hair with the little bottle of shampoo the motel provided, but this time
there was no settling it. I leaned back against the wall and began stroking myself eagerly, this time calling up a different image of David…one from a particularly raunchy encounter we’d had in the dirty bathroom of a nightclub we’d visited in Germany while on leave. But the image wouldn’t stick.
“No,” I muttered as Nathan’s smell tickled my nose and his thick fingers teased my cock before wrapping around it. I willed my brain to go back to David, but like my dick, it refused to listen and before I knew it, I was eagerly thrusting into Nathan’s hand. Then it was his ass gripping my flesh in unbearable heat and pressure. It felt too good to ignore, so I pressed on.
Full steam ahead.
I fucked him hard and fast, and I drank down his throaty moans as he pushed his ass back to meet every powerful thrust. Lust shimmered in my belly and my balls drew up tight when he began whimpering my name and begging for more.
Harder.
Faster.
Deeper.
I gave him everything he wanted. And when I leaned over him and bit down on his shoulder right after ordering him to come, he did.
So did I.
With my release deep inside of him, bathing my cock in its own juices, I continued to pound him. It was only when I opened my eyes to look down at his beautiful ass still holding me in the tightest, hottest grip I’d ever known, that I realized it was my own hand wrapped around my too-sensitive flesh. Horror gripped me as I grappled with how real the fantasy had been.
No fucking way.
I released my dick and stuck my hand under the water to get rid of the ropes and ropes of cum I’d spewed on myself.
And the wall.
Disgust tore through me as I angled the shower head to clean off the wall, and then I quickly rinsed. And as I dried off and pulled on just my briefs, pants, and nothing else, I kept hoping Nathan wouldn’t be waiting for me once I got out of the bathroom.
But luck just wasn’t on my side tonight.
Chapter 5
Nathan
I jerked awake at the sound of the bathroom door opening and quickly straightened against the headboard, though I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want Vincent to know I’d dozed off. I was surprised I’d managed to drift off myself, considering how on edge I’d been the second Vincent had gone into the bathroom. I’d sat and stared at the gun for a while before I’d forced myself to pick it up and go to the door to double-check it was locked. I’d then quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt before crawling onto the bed and turning on the television in the hopes that it would serve as a distraction. Without my phone, I had no way of checking the news to see if my neighbor hadn’t bought my story about the broken window and called the cops or the press. Mr. Deville had once complained about reporters waiting outside my house at all hours of the day, so I had to hope that fact would have kept him from calling anyone about what had happened tonight.
I’d put the TV on a 24-hour news program, but there’d been no mention of anything. Of course, it wasn’t like a broken window at my house would make national news, but if the cops had shown up and found the place riddled with bullets and me missing, that sure as hell would have been breaking news. I’d thought about using the motel room phone to call Preston, but the fear of the call somehow being tracked, not to mention I had no clue how to explain to Preston what had happened, had kept me from reaching for it.
It was torture to be out of the know. I wouldn’t label myself a control freak, but I definitely liked knowing what was happening around me. I wasn’t someone who easily “turned off” at the end of the day. I was hoping that quality would serve me well in D.C., but right now it was basically torture.
So the fact that I’d fallen asleep while so much shit was happening that I had absolutely no control over was practically a miracle in itself.
As Vincent entered the main part of the room, I carefully took the gun off my lap and placed it on the nightstand. I’d never been a fan of guns, even though my father had taken me and Brody hunting often enough. I’d been twelve when I’d made my first kill. We’d been going hunting with my father a lot longer than that, but I’d been purposely missing my shots for all that time. I’d finally broken down and killed a young buck after my father had railed at me and Brody for being sissies. He’d been particularly hard on Brody because my brother had cried when my father had handed him a rifle and told him we were going hunting for the first time. Brody had always been the softer-hearted of the two of us. Even when we’d gone fishing whenever we spent the summer at my maternal grandfather’s cabin in northern Minnesota, Brody had insisted that we use artificial bait instead of real worms, and we’d always thrown back whatever we’d caught. As much as I’d hated killing that deer, I’d needed to protect Brody from our father’s cruelty more.
So I’d pulled the trigger.
My father had slapped my back with pride and then he’d told me to finish off the poor creature with a kill shot. I’d done it, and I’d suffered through every second of him sharing the story with the guy we’d taken the deer to so that its body could be processed for meat…and, of course, the actual trophy…its head.
As soon as I’d gotten home that night, I’d gone to the bathroom and thrown up. Then I’d climbed into the shower and cried until my brother had found me and helped me out. He’d crawled into bed with me and held me while I’d sobbed uncontrollably.
Then he’d thanked me.
Because he’d known what I’d done.
It had always been that way with me and Brody. Us watching out for each other.
Until the night I’d stopped having his back when I’d realized I couldn’t protect him from what was to come. I’d let my fear and uncertainty take over at that point, and I’d driven Brody away.
I was jolted from my thoughts by Vincent’s close proximity to me as he removed the gun from the nightstand. His eyes landed on me briefly, but he didn’t say anything. He looked pissed.
Though I had no idea how I could have pissed him off by just sitting there.
I watched as he went to his bag and rifled through it. I saw him take out a small cylinder of some kind, along with a roll of string. He went to the door and stuck the container to the doorframe. I had to assume it had some kind of adhesive on it that kept it mounted to the door. He tied a piece of string around a ring on the end of the cylinder and then attached the other piece of the string to the doorknob.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Homemade security system.”
“What do you mean?”
Vincent glanced over his shoulder at me and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. He was a good-looking guy. I wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but I knew he was in better shape than a lot of men his age. His muscles along his back rippled every time he moved and his tanned skin still had a sheen of moisture on it. My belly was fluttering and I felt an uncomfortable tightening in my pants. I willed it away, but unlike all the other times, this time my head was not so successful in overruling my body.
It’s not real…it’s the stress, I assured myself.
“This is a stun grenade. You’ve probably heard it called a flash bomb. Police use it for crowd control, and for when they’re storming a house or building where there’s an armed suspect inside.”
“I’ve seen those on TV. They emit a loud sound, right?”
Vincent nodded. “Light, too. They disorient a person long enough for the police to take them down.”
“So if someone opens the door...”
“I’ll have the time to disarm them and put them down.”
“Won’t it disorient you, too?” I asked.
He sent me a smirk over his shoulder and I felt that flutter in my belly turn into a full-on parade of butterflies.
“I’ll be expecting it,” he said. “An intruder won’t. And since all I need is a few seconds of the advantage…”
He let the statement hang and stepped back to check his work. “Needless to say, if you decide to make a run for it, let me know
first. Not like I’m going to stop you.”
I ground my teeth at that.
“Those guys must be good friends,” I muttered.
“What guys?”
“Beck’s father and uncle.”
Vincent was silent for a moment before saying, “They understand loyalty.”
It wasn’t the words themselves, but the way he said them that made me feel like he was definitely taking a dig at me. Which made no sense, because he didn’t know the first thing about me.
“Is it just me or all politicians?” I asked as Vincent moved to the opposite side of the bed…the side closer to the door.
“Since I don’t know you from Adam, what do you think?” he asked.
“I think you’re a judgmental son of a bitch,” I said.
“I call it like I see it.”
I was about to make a snide retort when I saw Vincent reach for the button on his pants. “What are you doing?” I squeaked.
Yeah…squeaked.
Nathan Wilder, thirty-year-old candidate for senator, just squeaked like a girl.
“I’m going to bed,” he said simply. My throat went dry as the button popped open. The sound of the zipper was like a gunshot going off. I knew I needed to move, but all I could do was sit there and watch Vincent’s thick fingers maneuver his pants down his hips. “You didn’t think this was one of those scenarios, did you?”
I had no clue what he was talking about. Was he even talking? I heard sound coming from his mouth, but my brain was focused on the sight of his cock nestled in his black briefs.
His very large cock, if the bulge was anything to go by.
“What?” I managed to ask. It wasn’t until Vincent stopped pushing his pants any farther down his legs that I realized I’d been staring. I jerked my eyes up to his and saw a gleam of satisfaction in them. “What?” I asked again, completely lost.
“I’m not giving up the bed to the injured damsel in distress, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“You want to share?” I asked stupidly. Was he kidding?
Defiance (The Protectors, Book 9) Page 5