Her head tipped back, and she groaned, her pussy constricting around him as she came.
Brenden let his forehead rest against hers, her breath warming his face, his fingers still buried inside of her. The hands around his neck twitched, and she licked her lips.
“Do we have any shared walls tonight?” she asked between breaths.
“Just the bathroom.”
She grinned and gazed up at him. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.” She lifted her head and kissed his lips then his chin.
His fingers slid from her pussy as she wiggled farther down the bed, her lips leaving a trail of kisses on his neck and shoulders.
“What are you doing?” He peered down at the top of her head, captivated by the sight of her lips on the skin just over his heart.
She didn’t answer.
Brenden rolled to his side. Priscilla moved with him, using his momentum to push him onto his back and straddle his hips
She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with life, and said, “My turn.”
In that moment he’d have done whatever she asked. So long as she kept that look on her face, he didn’t care if it was sex or death, he’d do it.
She bent forward, her hair falling to one side, and continued kissing a path down his chest and stomach. Her hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a lazy caress.
“Pris...” His eyes drifted shut and all he did was feel.
Her grip on him was gentle, her fingers stroking the engorged vein along the underside of his shaft. The soft slide of her hair was cold, a stark contrast to the way his skin heated.
She reached his hip and damn if he didn’t want to take control. He didn’t dare touch her where he could reach for fear he’d hurt her.
He opened his eyes in time to capture one hell of an image.
Priscilla was on her knees and elbows, her ass up in the air. One hand was wrapped around his cock and her lips were right there. Even as he watched her lick the crown he wasn’t prepared for it. He fisted the sheets to keep from touching her and gave in to the sensation of her warm, wet mouth drawing him in.
“Oh—fuck,” he muttered as her tongue caressed him.
It was bliss, the feel of her hands, the way her lips constricted. She was playing him in the most delicious way possible. And he was going to come if she kept this up. He’d used up his restraint in the shower.
Brenden sat up. Before he could figure out where to grab her that wasn’t sore or bruised, she let his cock slide from her lips. Head bent back, she looked at him with a smile that said she was very pleased with herself.
Priscilla rose up on her knees, planted her hands on his chest and shoved.
“I told you, my turn,” she purred.
He let her push him back, the pillows catching him as he landed.
She wrapped her hand around his cock again, but this time it wasn’t for her mouth. She positioned herself over him and they both watched her fit their bodies together. He held his breath as the head of his cock kissed her opening, and then she was pressing down, that same pussy he’d finger-fucked yielding for his cock.
Brenden lifted his hips, urging himself deeper. Priscilla groaned and rolled her hips, taking him deeper still. He glanced up and her gaze locked with his, so full of desire and passion. There were no shadows, no darkness, nothing bad. Right now, in this bubble, it was just them.
Priscilla bent forward and grasped each of his wrists. She brought his hands up and locked their fingers together in a move that shouldn’t have been intimate, and yet it was. Then, she moved.
He was aware of her breasts, the hitch in her breathing, even the air conditioner flipping on. But what he got lost in was her eyes and the feel of her body around him. This wasn’t just sex to scratch an itch, it was sharing pleasure.
She moved over him, using his strength to help her. The playful note was gone, leaving the hunger for something he didn’t have a name for. It was more. She thrust down on him, harder, his cock sliding deeper.
“You feel so good,” she said between breaths.
Brenden gripped her hands tighter and thrust up, meeting her.
“Yes.” She groaned the word.
He was close. The pleasure of her touch, the attentions of her mouth and now this were just too damn much for a man who’d been starving. He planted his feet on the bed and worked in tandem with her, their bodies joining in a fast, demanding rhythm.
“Oh—Brenden. I’m going to—oh!” She tossed her head back, moaning her pleasure, still staring down at him.
He let go of her hands and grasped her by the hips, guiding her, taking all of her in. From the sway of her breasts to the tendrils of hair sticking to her skin, he committed it all to memory. She was beautiful. Glorious. And for this moment, his.
At that thought, his insides seemed to erupt. He groaned and pulled her down, grinding their sexes together as his orgasm rolled up through him. She moved with him, the sounds of their pleasure mingling.
She fell forward, resting on his chest, her curtain of hair obscuring her face.
He stared up at the ceiling, trying to breathe, to process what the hell was happening between them, but he had no words.
Sex was mutually assured pleasure. Whatever this was, it was dangerous. They’d just blown past all the warning signs and now he feared they were in uncharted territory for the both of them.
Brenden wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head even as she snuggled closer.
What the hell?
13.
SATURDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Brenden stared at the dark liquid filling his cup. The groggy sensation wasn’t one born from hours spent staring at a ceiling.
No.
He’d slept.
True REM sleep.
For hours.
And when he’d woken up, it was to find Priscilla using him as a kind of body pillow, her head on his shoulder, their legs tangled up.
He wasn’t sure what to make of this. It had to be a fluke, obviously. They’d been tired, it was a draining day and then sex on top of it all had become the perfect cocktail to a full eight hours of sleep.
“Wakey, wakey.” Vaughn smacked Brenden’s shoulder.
A bit of the coffee sloshed onto the counter.
“Fuck, man.” Brenden set the mug down and reached for a napkin.
“Someone’s testy this morning.” Vaughn leaned against the counter, far too chipper for Brenden’s liking.
The hair on the back of his neck rose. His stomach tightened. He pressed his toes down, grounding them to the earth to keep from moving.
Priscilla breezed into the room on the other side of the galley kitchen and stopped across from him.
“Morning,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Any left for me?”
He slid the cup he’d just filled over to her. Vaughn was actually helpful and passed a second cup to them without the asinine comments that was typical of him.
“Thanks,” she muttered into the cup.
Brenden had only been away from her a few moments. Minutes, really. But in that time she’d put on clothes, which was a shame. Except for the part where she’d be out here around the guys naked and that wouldn’t do. So clothes were a necessary compromise.
He focused on his mug, not looking at her, even though everything in him was acutely aware of the distance between them.
She was too far away.
“What’d I miss while I was sleeping?” Priscilla asked after she’d had her first sip.
Vaughn leaned his elbows on the counter. “On our side, nothing. Boss wants us to circle up as soon as you were awake to discuss what he’s uncovered.”
“That sounds ominous.” Priscilla glanced at Brenden.
He honestly didn’t know how this conversation was going to go. Aegis Group had always stood by their decision that when possible they did all the good they could do. Which meant they rescued people they weren’t paid to, they wo
rked with police to apprehend bad guys, they went the extra mile. And yet for some reason last night Zain had said he didn’t want to get involved beyond delivering Priscilla to her destination.
It didn’t add up. And he didn’t like this change.
Their commitment to doing what was right was one of the biggest reasons why Brenden stayed with this company. They were good people. But if that changed, what separated them from the rest?
“Let the boss know we’re ready.” Brenden studied Priscilla, and deep down he knew he wouldn’t abandon her before this was done.
Things were going to get a whole lot worse before it was sorted out. She’d need someone in her corner.
“I’ll circle everyone up.” Vaughn headed out of the kitchen, leaving them alone for the moment.
Priscilla glanced up at Brenden finally, eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I’d rather wait until after we talk to the boss.” He didn’t want to invite more problems.
In less than five minutes the team was assembled around the dining table. Even Nolan armed with a box of tissues, a trash can and a bottle of antibacterial. Everyone else appeared to have been up and conscious long before Brenden and Priscilla.
Zain answered as soon as the video call went out. He was still wearing the same shirt as the last time Brenden had seen him.
When did this guy sleep?
“Morning, team,” Zain said. “I don’t have much for you, I’m afraid. Technicians on the ground did confirm that malware was introduced to the plane via some kind of tech. The working theory is that it was put on either when you were in Rio or during the layover in Mexico City. That device included a small EMP, which explains the dead electronics.”
“No idea who did it?” Priscilla asked.
“Security cameras in both airports weren’t pointed at the jet. Without some kind of image to run facial on, I’m working with what people will share with us. It’s not much, but I’m hunting down secondary sources.” Zain shuffled something around out of the frame.
“The shooters? Any ID?” Grant asked.
“Police won’t release that information to me.” Zain’s mouth twisted up. “Again, I’m working some secondary sources, but it will take longer. And it’s the weekend.”
“Is it safe to make a guess?” Priscilla cupped her hands around her coffee and stared at the laptop.
Brenden wanted to reach under the table and touch her, let her know she wasn’t alone in this. But with everyone watching? He didn’t make a damn move.
“What kind of guess?” Zain asked.
“My theory was right. What we discovered in Rio is why this is happening.”
“No one is refuting that, Ms. Yilmaz. The problem? There’s nothing left of the warehouse. Any product there is gone. The only product that remains is in your custody or in the belly of that plane. Corporate has clammed up on us and they aren’t talking.”
“They’re going to blame it on Priscilla,” Brenden said.
“What?” She glanced at him, her nose wrinkled.
Zain sighed. It was a labored sound full of weariness. “That’s what I’m worried about. The local police already favor the idea that you were transporting drugs and that the crash and gunfight were a product of gang fighting. It wouldn’t take a lot of effort to plant the story that Priscilla is the mastermind behind this.”
She gaped at the screen then at the people around the table. “You can’t be serious...”
“It’s a working worst-case scenario.” Zain held up a hand. “It’s not truth. Yet. We’re working things, but it’s going to take time. I want you guys to hang tight, stay in New Mexico until Monday morning and we’ll all meet up in Chicago.”
This was getting the boss’ personal touch?
Things were bad.
SATURDAY. RIO DE JANEIRO, Brazil.
Arturo sank into the back seat of the hired car and closed his eyes. For the first time since he’d gotten the call, things were under control.
The warehouse was torched.
He’d sufficiently paid the police he could, the others were dead.
The woman was being handled.
It would all be fine. He just had to tell himself that.
And if it wasn’t?
His phone vibrated. He grit his teeth and glanced at the driver before pulling his cell out of his pocket. He’d left his real phone back home. For this trip he had a burner, and there were fewer than five people who had this number.
Trouble in paradise.
What new hell could this be?
Arturo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This partnering bullshit was crumbling around him. He’d been on the fence about this whole scam from the beginning. Sure, it was his idea, but he’d let his partner believe it was their brainchild. Not Arturo’s.
It all factored into Arturo’s contingency plan. If he had to pull out, if someone must take the fall, it wouldn’t be him.
He jabbed the call button and pressed the phone to his ear.
“That was quick,” his partner said by way of a greeting.
“What is it?” Arturo didn’t have time for this shit.
“Well... There’s been a problem.” The man’s voice wavered.
“What kind of problem?” Arturo asked slowly, each word vibrating with annoyance.
“The team you told me about? They took the job, they crashed the plane, but no one died. Well, the rescue team and the charity director didn’t die. Your guy lost four people.” The man continued in a rush. “But it’s not all bad. The police like her for all of it.”
“What?”
“The local police, they haven’t said it, but the way they were talking on the phone they think she was smuggling drugs in the company jet. I’m taking care of it on the corporate side, but this team, they can’t handle the job.”
Arturo didn’t answer.
He knew Damian and how good he was. He might be a homicidal asshole, but he knew how to do the job. If this team had gotten the best of Damian, they were a real threat regardless of what Arturo’s partner thought he was doing.
His body went cold. He calmly replied, “Keep handling it and I want updates.”
Arturo hung up the call and stared out of the window at his crumbling world.
He didn’t trust his partner to handle anything. Truth was he’d always assumed this scam, what they were doing, had a limited lifespan. Arturo had piles of money socked away from this.
Was it time to cut his losses and run? Or could he salvage things?
He swiped his finger over the screen and dialed a number from memory.
Did he want to gamble? Could it be worth it?
He held the phone to his ear.
Damian would not be pleased to hear from him, but they had bigger problems than some bad blood.
“Who is this?” a familiar male voice said over the line.
“Damian, don’t hang up. We have a mutual problem I think we can solve together.”
Silence.
Arturo settled in to wait. He knew he was in the best position out of all of them. His partner would get caught by simply looking guilty. Damian had lost people, presumably who were carrying his equipment. It wouldn’t take long to relate cases, point at him. But if Arturo’s plan worked, they could both walk out of this clean and clear.
“I’m listening,” Damien said.
SATURDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Albuquerque, New Mexico.
These people didn’t know what they were talking about.
Priscilla strode into the bedroom, her one haven, and crossed to the far wall. The curtains were doing their best job of blocking out the mid-morning sun, but enough seeped around the edges she could see.
The bedroom door shut.
She glanced over her shoulder at Brenden leaning up against the flat surface, his arms crossed over his chest. He was watching her again.
Why was it the rest of his team just didn’t get it?
“They’re wrong,” she said.
Her gut churned, and
it felt as if a hundred million ants were skittering over her flesh.
Were they?
She’d never been fooled into believing that Asclepius was an innocent company. They had the same problems as any other for profit business. The true purpose, the good they should be doing, got lost in shareholders and stocks.
“There’s no way they’d throw me under the bus like that.” She whirled to face Brenden. Their rumpled bed sat between them, a memory of a perfect moment. One that she wished she could curl up in and forget the world. “That’s not possible. Right?”
Brenden didn’t reply immediately. He frowned a bit more and wrinkles formed on his brow. “There’s a lot at stake here. In my experience? Money twists things. Makes good people do bad things.”
“Okay, but that’s one person. If I can bring the evidence—if you tell them what you saw—then they’ll have to listen to us. What evidence is there I’m the one who sold expired drugs? Where’s my vault of money?”
“All it takes is reasonable doubt that you did it.” He let his arms fall to his side.
She let her gaze slide off him to the wall and unfocus, seeing the future. Options. Choices. “Which means they could wrongfully fire me. I’d prove my innocence, then if I wanted I could sue them. But the damage would be done. I’d forever be that woman.”
How was it all the evidence from Rio was just gone?
What about the people? The cops who’d been on the scene?
“There has to be someone in Rio who’d tell the truth. Right?” She circled the bed, closing the distance between herself and Brenden.
Brenden’s mouth twisted up.
“What?” she asked.
“Last night Zain told us the detective on the case had an accident. He’s dead.”
“You can’t be serious.” She took a step back, eyes wide.
“Whoever is behind this trying to cover their tracks. The detective was paid off to close the case, call it arson, then leave and killed. It’s fishy as hell, but it’s also Brazil. A good lawyer could argue that it’s just the way things are there now.”
“Shit,” she muttered.
What did she do? How did she fight the police and her employer trying to pin this on her? Could she?
This was some movie level bullshit.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 15