Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  “I’ll be bringin’ a couple of others,” Ryan informed him.

  Max smirked. “Whatever you feel you need to do.”

  «»□«»

  After being escorted out of Max’s house by Max himself, Ryan mounted his bike without saying a word to Z. Too many things were running through his head to take the time to talk to anyone at the moment. Although Max Adorite hadn’t been a wealth of information, he had given Ryan something to go on, even if he didn’t know it. Although, if Ryan had to guess, he did. The Adorites didn’t make a misstep. They didn’t say things they didn’t mean to say, didn’t do things they didn’t mean to do. Even Ryan knew that much.

  And the invite to the party… Now that was something that would likely give them a solid lead. Or so Max seemed to believe. Ryan wasn’t going to question the man’s motives. At least not yet.

  Launching out onto the street, Ryan turned his bike in the direction of the office. He had work to do, something specific he wanted to look into. And there was no time like the present.

  A short while later, he pulled into the parking garage of the Sniper 1 office, Z still hot on his tail. When he parked the bike, Z followed suit but didn’t bother to dismount. Good. Not that Ryan wouldn’t welcome the input, but he preferred that Z didn’t stick around for this. More accurately, Ryan wasn’t sure he could handle being alone with Z at the moment. The man stirred something inside him, something he wanted to ignore.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Z asked, as straightforward and blunt as always.

  Ryan had never found it necessary to lie to his family or those he worked with. In fact, he’d found that telling the truth often reduced the number of unnecessary questions, so he answered with, “When the time is right, I’ll let you know. For now, let me do this.”

  Z nodded but not before he stared Ryan down. “I want to know as soon as you figure it out. And Trace is gonna want to know, too.”

  “Trace’ll be the first person I talk to,” Ryan replied honestly. He’d make sure of it. “And I’ll let you know, as well.”

  “Oh, and if you’re goin’ to the party, I’ll be going,” Z added. “I’m sure Trace will be bringing Marissa as well. You’ll need the added security.”

  Ryan considered that for a moment. He’d been planning to discuss that very option with Trace. It wasn’t an easy decision to plant Marissa in the thick of things, but it seemed like the only logical solution at this point. If someone had his eye on her, then the party would be the perfect opportunity for him to get his hands on her. Based on the silent conversation he’d had with Max, the other man believed that as well.

  Not that they would allow that to happen.

  “I agree,” Ryan finally said. “I’ll bring Courtney. She’ll be able to provide the perfect distraction for Max.”

  “Agree. You’ll need to brief her first. Tell her what she’ll be lookin’ for.”

  Ryan nodded, finding himself caught up in Z’s dark brown eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be fantasizing about how it would be if they were alone and naked, but that was exactly what he was doing.

  Shit. Not good. Not good at all.

  Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ryan swallowed past the desert that had taken up residence in his throat. “Once I know somethin’ more, I’ll let you know.”

  Apparently that was enough to pacify Z, because he was met with a similar nod before Z started the engine on his bike and maneuvered out of the parking space.

  Ryan watched until Z was out of sight and then sighed.

  It was all he could do.

  Twenty-Four

  Trace stared at the ceiling, watching the leisurely turn of the fan blades. He couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t quite pinpoint what the reason was tonight. Adrenaline? Nerves? Anxiety? Maybe all three? Hell, he had no fucking idea. Most nights he would merely fall in bed and be out before his head hit the pillow.

  Not tonight.

  As he lay in the comfort of his bed, he battled the overwhelming images that played continuously through his exhaustion-laden mind. The events of the day were on an endless loop, starting with the almost kiss with Marissa in his kitchen, followed by seeing her luscious, partially naked body, and then the remembered pain and fear he had glimpsed in her eyes when he’d woken her from her nightmare.

  And all of that was chased by the memory of seeing her looking at him from across the room when he’d returned from spending a couple of hours on the computer in his room only to find her sitting on the sofa with her laptop in front of her, doing her best to pretend that she wasn’t checking him out. It hadn’t slipped past him that there hadn’t been an ounce of fear or worry in her gaze when he’d caught her staring at him. Only lust, desire, and then possibly embarrassment, although he didn’t care much about the latter. It was the first two that had caught his attention.

  The rest of the evening had been fairly uneventful. After joining her in the living room, doing his damnedest to lie there and feign interest in the dull sitcom he had turned on, pretending Marissa wasn’t stealing sideways glances from across the room, Trace had excused himself to what they had dubbed CCB. Not because he had anything to do, but he had desperately needed to put a little distance between them. Since he couldn’t leave, that was the only option he’d had.

  Somehow he’d managed to pass several hours as he scoured the Internet and chatted online with Austin and Dom—who at this point still had nothing new to tell him other than they knew the guy suspected she was no longer at her parents’ house, but at this time, he didn’t seem to know exactly where she was. That was neither good nor bad news, so Trace had brushed it off, hoping they’d come up with something more concrete.

  He had returned a call from RT, who had insisted that they meet tomorrow to talk. According to RT, the meeting with Max had gone better than he’d expected, and afterward Ryan had gone back to the office to do some research. Apparently he’d found what he’d been looking for, but the news wasn’t something he was willing to share over the phone. Smart man.

  By the time Trace had finally decided to call it a night, Marissa had once again closed herself off in the guest bedroom, and he had fought the urge to check on her. Now he could hardly think of anything but her.

  How she looked, how she smelled, the smoothness of her skin, the aquamarine glow of her pretty eyes… She was an image planted in his mind, and he couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. Having her close was bringing about so many memories, so many opportunities to pursue things with her that he had allowed to pass him by.

  Trace recalled the very first time that he’d noticed Marissa. And by noticed, he meant as a woman. Marissa had always been larger than life, a fun-loving girl who captured the hearts of anyone she came in contact with, including Trace. But it was the moment his thoughts of her had gone from friendly to something much, much different.

  Considering their families were close and Marissa was only two years younger than he was, they had spent a fair amount of time together growing up. It wasn’t that they were particularly close, but there for a while, it’d seemed as though he would see her damn near every day. And throughout his teenage years, Trace had suspected that Marissa had been crushing on him. However, he’d been rebellious, trying to put distance between him and the family he spent day and night with. Typical teenage bullshit.

  He’d just hit the legal drinking age of twenty-one about the time his carnal desires had taken root as well. And at the time, Marissa had been just out of high school with a good-girl image that she couldn’t shake. It had been the perfect reason to stay far, far away from her, and Trace had perfected the art of keeping her at a distance.

  But on her twenty-first birthday, she had planned a party the likes of which only a popular, good girl could pull off. Her guest list had been extensive, most of which were friends she’d spent a lot of time with as well as the families who’d welcomed her into their world, namely the Kogans and the Trexlers. Since there had been no way to deter her, her parents had decid
ed to take over the planning in order to keep things within reason.

  Reason? Yeah, reasonable was so not how that party had turned out.

  Between her protective brothers, her instigating friends, and the boys who’d obviously had their eyes on Marissa for more years than they could count on one hand, the party had been overwhelming from the start. And Marissa was the guest of honor.

  That night Trace’s perception of the woman had changed drastically.

  Gone was the good girl, and in her place was a sassy, independent woman who knew what she wanted and went after it with gusto. To his relief, he hadn’t been in her sights that night or there was no telling how their lives would’ve changed. She’d had a boyfriend at the time, one no one particularly cared for, and the little fucker had shown his true colors during the party, sealing his own fate.

  Within two hours, Marissa had been completely and utterly shit-faced. So what had the boyfriend done? He’d opted to see just how far he could get with Marissa once she was three sheets to the wind. His defense? Well, no one said the guy was smart. His excuse had been something along the lines of her being twenty-one and him wanting her to have a good time by plying her with alcohol.

  Unfortunately, the bastard had had another good time in mind, one Marissa hadn’t appeared to be all that interested in. Thank God Courtney had had the good sense to keep an eye on Marissa and had offered the rest of them a heads up as to what she suspected from the guy Marissa considered to be her boyfriend.

  Needless to say, Clay and Colby had ended up tossing the shithead out on his ass, and that was when Trace had found himself between a rock and a hard place. A really tempting hard place.

  Courtney had been Marissa’s saving grace that night, and her brothers had just come in to handle cleanup. But Trace had had the most difficult job of all as far as he was concerned. Avoiding Marissa Trexler was a hell of a lot easier said than done. He’d never been accused of being a saint, but after that night, he should’ve earned his angel wings.

  Somehow he’d managed to avoid her wayward advances. She’d been drunk; he doubted she even remembered them. Too bad he couldn’t say the same for her now.

  Trace feared he wasn’t doing such a good job of avoiding her now, and he knew that the longer she remained in his house, the less willpower he’d be able to maintain. Especially if he got a glimpse of her glorious, partially naked curves one more time. Shit, he’d had a hard-on that rivaled them all after getting a peek of that lacey pink bra covering her perky tits.

  Reaching down between his legs, Trace cupped his balls, then moved higher, grinding his palm against his growing erection. He was naked, as he was every damn night when he went to sleep, and thinking about her wasn’t helping, that was for damn sure.

  The rhythm of his palm against his cock became addictive, and he found himself jacking off to the image of her nearly nude body. God, what he wouldn’t give to walk into her room, crawl over her, and indulge in what he’d denied himself for far too long.

  The only thing that kept him from doing so was the infinitesimal sliver of control that he’d been latching on to since he’d demanded to step into the role of her watcher.

  The first go-round had been the worst point in his life, and finding her after losing his mind piece by piece for every minute that she’d been gone had sealed his fate. There were no two ways about it, Trace was drawn to Marissa, although he knew it was in her best interest that he remain hands off. But it had been the last near-death experience in Connecticut, sneaking her out of the house before the ghost they were chasing managed to get his hands on her, that had done him in.

  He’d almost been too late, and acknowledging that fact had the ability to knock the wind out of him. When he gave too much thought to how short life could possibly be, Trace found it more and more difficult to deny himself the one thing he’d wanted for himself. Marissa Trexler.

  If it were up to her, he was sure they’d have been horizontal and naked. But then again, that could very well just be wishful thinking on his part, because hell, he’d spent years dreaming and fantasizing about her.

  So what was the holdup? It wasn’t like they couldn’t engage in a sexual relationship that would leave them both satisfied for a long time.

  The issue was that Trace wanted all of her. Sex was only a small—although rather enticing—piece of what he wanted from Marissa. He wanted her trust, first and foremost, and he didn’t think she’d give that away freely. Not after all that she’d endured. Hell, he’d seen it in her eyes when he’d promised her that she was safe with him. She was agreeable, although he could sense she didn’t believe him for a second.

  Which meant that pursuing her, giving in to his baser urges, wasn’t going to help his cause. He’d want more than she could give. So lying there, stroking his cock in the dark seemed like the only option worth pursuing at the moment.

  Trace was just giving in to the sensation, letting a much-needed release build inside of him when Marissa’s scream echoed through the house. Not bothering with clothes, Trace launched himself from the bed, grabbing his gun from the nightstand, and was at Marissa’s bedside before she had the chance to wake up.

  Another nightmare.

  Trace fought to catch his breath; the fear of what might’ve happened stole a year off his life.

  Marissa’s blue eyes opened, briefly meeting his gaze before slowly descending south. Her mouth instantly widened, a not-so-subtle reminder that he was very, very naked, standing over her with a gun in his hand.

  Shit.

  “You okay?” he asked, feeling like a predator, although he wasn’t sure why. He might’ve been the one standing above her, but she was definitely the one whose hot gaze now raked over his naked body.

  “Yeah,” she uttered, her eyes drifting up to meet his once more.

  “Sorry, I’ll—” Yeah, he had no fucking clue what he would do, but getting out of her room was his first priority.

  His dick hadn’t deflated thanks to the adrenaline that coursed through him, which meant he was looking more and more like a pervert the longer he stood there staring at her.

  “All right then,” he mumbled, turning away from her, hoping he could make it back to his room before the last remnants of his control shattered. “Let me know if… Yeah, never mind.”

  Making it back to his bed, Trace set the gun on the nightstand before dropping down onto the edge of the mattress. He ran his hand over his hair as he stared at the ground while he wondered if bringing Dom over as a babysitter might’ve been a good idea.

  Fucking shit.

  □«»□«»□«»□

  Marissa stared at Trace’s retreating form. He was incredibly, deliciously naked, and for the first time in months, the moment she had forced herself out of the nightmare, the memories of that horrific event had evaded her.

  Completely.

  The heat that had infused her was powerful. All-consuming. The sight of Trace naked… Well, that was obviously the fastest way to get her brain to switch from one topic to another without batting an eye.

  Not to mention, way better than anything she’d ever fantasized about.

  Holy crap, the guy was … glorious. No, glorious might be an understatement. Long and lean, the powerful muscles of his back flexed and shifted as he walked away, making her mouth water as she imagined running her hands over the hard, sleek lines. The last things she glimpsed were his thick thighs and his rock-hard ass muscles bunching as he appeared to be fleeing from her.

  He definitely wasn’t what she’d expected to see when she had opened her eyes. Especially not standing above her, his gun in hand as he peered down at her. She had screamed; she knew that much because it had ripped her from the grips of the nightmare, for which she was grateful. But now, as she rolled over onto her back, staring at the yellow glow from a street lamp reflected on the ceiling, she could do nothing but think about what Trace was doing.

  Was he back in his bed? Was he thinking about her? Had he been thinking about her?
There was no way she could’ve imagined the hard, rigid length of his cock standing proudly from his impressive body. Just the thought had her fingers itching to touch him. To glide her hands over every inch of him.

  Rolling to her side once more, Marissa tried to fight the heat that threatened to consume her. She tried to ignore the warmth between her legs, the ache that had taken up residence deep inside of her at the mere thought of Trace.

  Nope. Not working.

  Should she go apologize? Tell him she was sorry for waking him up and maybe explain about the nightmares? Or was that simply an excuse to go into his bedroom?

  She had a feeling it was the latter. Would he shun her if she did? Or would he pull her into his arms and make the memories and the nightmares disappear for even a minimal amount of time?

  Well, the last damn thing she wanted was to lie there and think about the possibilities. So, that left her with two choices … lie there and suffer or seek him out.

  The next thing Marissa knew, she was padding across the hall to the open door of Trace’s bedroom. She hadn’t seen much of the interior of the room earlier when she’d brought him her laptop, and thanks to the darkness, she didn’t get to see the one room that would tell her so much about the man her body was aching for.

  “What do you need?”

  His gruff voice shook her from her thoughts, and she peered through the darkness, attempting to make out his form in the shadows. When her eyes adjusted, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, a thin slice of light shining in through the gap in the closed curtains allowing her to see his outlined form.

  She didn’t answer his question. Instead, her feet moved her forward, closer to where he sat. It was as though her brain no longer had a say in the matter because she’d been fighting this attraction for far too long.

  Asking him to help her, to offer himself so that she could eradicate the demons that plagued her just for a little while seemed like a reasonable thing to do. Selfish but reasonable. When the morning sun rose, she was sure she’d feel differently, but right now, she didn’t have it in her to care. If he would put his hands on her, the rest of her pressing thoughts could wait for morning.