He was well aware.
“It’s okay. We’re fixed, and that’s all that matters to me,” he offered.
Taking his free hand in hers, she squeezed it. “If it makes you feel any better, I binged too.”
He glanced over. “On booze?”
“No. I’m a girl. I had a torrid affair with cookies and ice cream. We had to break up so my ass didn't get fat.”
He snorted. “I love your ass. Want to get naked and eat cookies and ice cream?”
She shook her head. “You’re missing the point of this conversation,” Johanna stated.
Brody grinned. “You may think I am, but now I’m thinking about that truly spectacular behind of yours.”
Johanna loved how silly he could be. It always brightened her day.
Then they saw their boss pulling off into a parking lot. Johanna had been wrong. He wasn’t heading back to the reservation to get shit faced drunk.
“Uh oh, he’s heading to a no-tell motel.”
Brody knew this was going to go bad. “If he goes in there and drinks that bottle, he’s not coming out alive. He’ll kill himself.”
They watched and waited to make sure they weren’t going to be scaring Elizabeth without probable cause. When Ethan Blackhawk strolled out of the lobby with a key in his hand, they knew they’d been right.
“He’s going into room nine.”
“Well, then you know what we have to do,” Johanna stated.
“Stop him?”
She shook her head. “You saw him lose it today. Do you really want to go into that room to wrestle that bottle of Jack from his hand?”
“You have a very valid point.”
“Yeah, you better do the deed. This is a job for super wife.”
Brody pulled out his phone and sent the text that was definitely going to piss their boss off.
She was working a case, and this meant stopping what she was doing—again—and making a trip out there.
“I hope she doesn’t make us go in there,” Brody stated.
Yeah, Johanna agreed there.
Ethan Blackhawk was scary enough, but throw in a bottle of Jack, and that wouldn’t end well.
At all…
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
He watched.
He waited.
Then he made his plan.
As the man moved around town before heading back to his place, he knew that it was time.
Glancing over, Bonnie sat beside him, smiling in glee. It was going to be time to take another pair, and when they did, the fun would begin.
They’d make him scream.
“Where’s the woman?” Bonnie asked, batting her eyes at him.
Clyde was working the plan out in his head. He knew that it would all work out.
“She’ll be showing up later. She always does. We’ll wait for her to come home.”
Bonnie didn't say anything more. There was a fine line between questioning him and pushing Clyde past his breaking point. The last thing she needed was to be the focus of his anger, so she shut up.
“Are you curious?” he asked, grinning wickedly.
“I don’t want to make you mad.”
He leaned over and forced her mouth to his in a kiss. It was brutal and full of heat. When he pulled away, she was blinking.
“Good girl. You’re learning.”
She stayed quiet.
“We know that he meets up with her when his wife is away. So, he’s going to head to his mistress’s place. We’ll wait for her to show up there. When she does…we’ll have them both.”
It was risky, and Bonnie knew it.
Again, she wasn’t going to say anything.
Not now.
“Great idea,” she stated.
He smiled. “I know. I’m a genius.”
It took everything Bonnie had to not roll her eyes. “We should text her from his phone so she comes home sooner. Then we can kill them both at the same time. Then your plan will astound them, and it’ll give the FBI a clue. Maybe you can get another couple out of the deal.”
He knew who she was talking about.
Elizabeth Blackhawk.
“Yes, I was thinking that.”
“You’re so smart, Clyde.”
He didn't even notice she was tweaking his original idea. Clyde was so lost in the blood lust that he hadn’t figured out that she was actually running the show.
Instead, he grinned.
“Perfect. Do you want to send the text?” he asked.
“Oh, babe, can I? I’d love to do it.”
“You can, doll. You deserve it.”
They followed the man, letting him lead them to the woman’s place. When he entered, using a key, they knew what they had to do.
They gave him a minute, and then rang the doorbell. Once he opened, a smile on his face, they gave him something to wipe it away.
Clyde punched him in the face, and then Bonnie tasered him.
As the man’s body twitched on the floor, there was laughter.
They now had half of their next pair.
When the woman came home, they’d have her too.
“This place is nice,” she offered.
Clyde looked around.
“I say we use it.”
She grinned.
“Good idea. Let’s.”
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
That’s The Spot
Motel
Well, holy shit!
She was going to kill him. When she got her hands on his sexy Native hide, he was going to be in for a world of hurting.
When Elizabeth got the text message from their agents, she at first thought they were yanking her chain. They had to be kidding. There was no way Ethan would pull a stunt like this.
When Ethan had insisted on taking the rest of the day off, putting himself in a self-imposed time out, she never saw this debacle coming.
He was the sane one.
Normally, this was something Callen would do—not her incredibly suave husband. In fact, she would have bet money that he was going back to the cabin on the reservation to work. It wasn’t like him to do anything like this.
If someone told her he was going to be copping a squat, as he got shitfaced drunk in a motel, and in some crime ridden neighborhood, there was no way Elizabeth would have believed it.
Not Ethan.
Never him.
Now, she was faced with the cold hard reality that her normally sane man was out of damn control.
When she got to the motel, the name alone told the tale. Once she got to him, she was going to chew chunks out of his sculpted ass.
Oh, she was pissed—not only because he could kill himself with the booze and no one would have known, but because she should be working on the case.
This was jackassery and tomfoolery, and she didn't have the time for it.
Once out of her vehicle, she signaled to her two agents to head back to work. Now that she was going to be dealing with this, someone had to be working on finding Bonnie and Clyde.
It certainly wasn’t going to be her.
Well, not until she wrangled a cowboy and talked some sense into him.
At the door, she banged on it. When she didn't hear anything coming from inside, Elizabeth was pretty sure she was going to have to kick it in.
It pissed her off more.
This was paperwork!
Damn it!
As she continued banging, she could hear footsteps heading her way. They weren’t the casual gait of a controlled man.
NO.
They were stumbling—like a drunk on the strip.
Oh, Christ, she was going to make him bleed.
When the door was wrenched open, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her husband stood there, but his shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was a mess, and he’d already worked his way through half a bottle of Jack.
Crap!
He was chugging it.
Someone was going to have one
hell of a hangover in the morning. Immediately, her attitude changed. This wasn’t going to be about tearing him a new one. She was going to have to save him, and fast.
“Ethan.”
“Shut up, Lyzee. Go away. I’m off duty, and I need to think.”
“About what? How to drink yourself to death? Give me the bottle, and no one gets hurt.”
He glared at her. “No.”
“If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to have to take it. If I do that, someone’s going to get hurt. By someone, in case you’re too drunk to figure it out, I meant you.”
He leaned against the door frame and didn't move. “Make me.”
Elizabeth had never seen this side of him before. Yes, they’d all gotten buzzed on beer, but Ethan never went too far. He was way too civilized for that. When he drank, much like everything else, it was all about being in control.
This was proof that his cage was rattled.
He had apparently lost his damn mind.
“Your job is saved. We’ve worked it out. It’s time to get you some coffee, dump your mistress, Jack, and get back to work.”
He didn't move.
“I think I told you to leave. I want to be alone. I don’t need you here playing fucking mommy to me.”
Well, someone was a nasty drunk. Maybe this was why he didn't get shitfaced more often.
Elizabeth didn't doubt that the stress and anger were twisting him up. Then again, a half a fifth of Jack wouldn’t help either.
She went to grab the bottle, and a tug-o-war ensued. When Ethan wrenched it from her grip and took another slug, she opted to play dirty.
She knocked it from his lips.
He got angry.
“I told you to get out of here!”
“Make me,” she taunted, standing her ground. There was no way she was going to let him drink himself into a comma. Yeah, not on her freaking watch. They had kids, and she didn't need to tell them daddy was dead.
Bull shit!
It wasn’t happening.
“I’m angry. If you know what’s best for you, then you’ll get out of here before I lose it,” he insisted.
Elizabeth knew what he needed. Moving closer, she stood toe to toe with him. Instead of her lips meeting his, she shoved him.
“You’re drunk and a mess. I don’t like this in the men I’m married to, and you should know better.”
He stumbled back.
Across his face, there were so many emotions. Elizabeth knew she was playing with fire, but she had to trust him. Underneath it all, this was Ethan.
He loved her.
Right?
It was a split second before he attacked. He shoved her, pushing her back on the bed. The rage was there, and so was all the pain. Elizabeth struggled to get back on her feet only to be taken to the floor. They rolled around, her trying to get him in control. If she could cuff him, she would.
When Ethan pinned her to the ground, she stared up at him. He was gone. The calm man beneath was pulled under, and in his place was someone fraught with anger.
She watched him slip the zipper down on his dress pants. There was no doubt what was coming next.
Struggling to get out from beneath him, he pulled his erection from his pants.
“I warned you to leave. I told you to give me space.”
Yes, he’d warned her.
She never saw it coming to this.
“Now I’m going to do something I can’t control.”
Elizabeth stared up at him. “Ethan,” she said, her voice showing no fear. “Come back to me.”
He blocked it out. What he wanted and needed were far stronger than what he knew to be right. The man he was slipped away, and his past came back. The unrefined man, beneath the veneer, fought back to the surface and had him by the balls.
Ethan didn't wait.
Instead, he grabbed her head and slipped his erection between her lips. As he sat on her chest, she couldn’t get up.
Instead, he was able to use her mouth.
It was hard.
Brutal.
And a part of him knew it was wrong.
As he used the woman he loved, he was so angry. What he wanted to do was destroy the room around him. It was like he was watching this all unfold outside his body.
Instead of stopping, he pulled his erection free. She wasn’t speaking, and he took it as his opportunity to get lost in her. Sliding down her body, he ripped her shirt open.
There was a gasp.
He didn't know if it was from him or her, but as soon as he had her chest bared, he went back to pinning her arms, this time above her head.
“I told you to leave,” he whispered over and over. “But you never listen. You had to stay, and now I’m going to regret this tomorrow.”
She hurt for him.
His words echoed in the silence of the room.
Ethan’s blue-black eyes glittered with tears and something deadly. Before she could speak, he attacked again.
He began biting her. From her collarbone to her breasts, he left marks. A part of him could hear her responding to his assault, but the stronger part was winning out.
When he came to her stomach, he tried to remember why he should be gentle, but he couldn’t.
Instead, while holding her wrists above her head with one hand, he ripped her jeans open, and tugged them down her legs.
Again, there was another gasp.
It didn't stop him.
Instead, it urged him on. He needed to bury himself in her body, so he could let the pain go. His brother and wife were marked, he’d lost control, punching a man, and the asshole who wanted his wife was back.
It was all too much to bear.
When he ripped her panties off, he didn't care that her legs were tangled in her jeans. All he cared about was finding his way back to sanity.
In his head, there was that voice telling him to take her. It warred with his heart, but it won.
God help him.
It won.
Slamming himself into her, he stared down into Elizabeth’s face.
Everything was blurry.
Everything felt wrong.
Yet, he couldn’t stop. He was drowning in the pain, and instinctually, he knew she was the only one who could help him.
“Save me,” he whispered, right before he raped his wife.
She didn't know what to say.
She’d never seen him this way before, but the more he fought, the more Elizabeth knew she had to be there for him. When he drove his erection into her mouth, she offered him peace. The taste and feel of him gliding across her tongue was enough to heat her body.
While he was out of control, and that was scary, this was still Ethan, and his touch drove her crazy.
Whether he knew it or not, he was still offering her pleasure. He was no rougher than Callen had been countless times, and she was wet from the way he manhandled her.
This was new, and it was incredibly hot.
As he ripped open her shirt, goosebumps raced across her flesh. There was never a more delicious feeling than Ethan stripping her bare.
When he tugged up the bra, setting her breasts free, she was in heaven.
When he bit her, it was sensory overload.
God!
She wanted to roll, placing him on the bottom. If he wasn’t buried in her soon, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. While he held her hands trapped in his, she could get free.
Only, she never wanted to be.
She begged him to do it, but he didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he was staring down at her stomach, lost in that momentary thought.
Then he forced her jeans down her legs. They tangled around her boots, making her even more of a prisoner. It caused her blood pressure to shoot up, and she longed to run her nails down his back.
God!
She wanted to feel him.
When he tore her panties off, ripping them from her body and into shreds, she wanted him buried in her. Elizabeth s
truggled to get her legs apart so he could find a place between them.
If he didn't finish this off soon, she’d go crazy.
Then she felt the nudge of erection.
It was happening.
Elizabeth wanted to sing a chorus of hallelujahs. It was about damn time!
The hot glide of flesh impaling her body was almost too much to take. As he buried himself in her, she came. It was impossible to fight it as her body shook around his pounding thrusts.
She only hoped he was enjoying this as much as she was.
Her body bowed as he continued take her. Staring up into his midnight blue eyes, there was nothing there but loathing.
This would damage him, and she didn't know why. It was amazing. Setting her hands free, he used his arms to brace himself over her.
Repeatedly, he thrust deep into her body.
The next wave of orgasm was coming, and she was helpless to hold on.
His pummeling strokes picked up intensity, throwing Elizabeth over the edge, and it seemed like she fell forever. Then she realized it was because he didn't stop.
He couldn’t.
As he pumped himself in and out of her, filling her inch by inch, she tried to focus.
“Ethan, please,” she whispered, needing more. She knew it would save him.
It was the only way back to him.
As he fucked her on the floor of a seedy motel, she held on for the ride.
His body was tightening between her legs, and she knew it was coming to an end.
God!
She never wanted him to stop.
Rarely did she see him this raw and uncontrolled. There was something amazing about it.
He was primitive.
Wild.
Her Ethan.
As his breathing labored, her hands found his slick shoulders. Her body sang with the oncoming release, but still he didn't stop. They dug in, and instead of helping him focus, it did the opposite.
She exploded.
He shook, balanced on the precipice.
When she dug her nails into his shoulder, he came, thrusting one final time before pouring hotly into her body. The rush of heat and wet caused her body to bow in pleasure.
Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) Page 16