He pressed both palms to the mahogany, and she merely gaped at the biceps in her line of sight. “Owen, what are you doing?”
“We shouldn’t be thinking about sex; you’re right. With what’s going on, it should be the last thing on our minds.” He found her eyes. “I shouldn’t be thinking about bunching up that tight red skirt you’re wearing and feeling just how wet you are . . . because you are, aren’t you?”
A twitch between her thighs had her closing her eyes and taking a breath. “Since my intern is out there, along with your two SEAL buddies, I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how it’d feel to have your tongue inside my mouth, then.”
His hand dropped to her hip, and he pulled her against him. She could feel his hard length pressing into her. “I shouldn’t still want to bury myself inside of you, even if everyone outside of this room were to disappear.”
“But you do,” she whispered and opened her eyes.
His jaw clenched as he studied her. “But I do.”
“Am I a bad person to want to have sex with you? Even if sex is the best possible way to take my mind off the sick shit in this world—it’s not natural to want you like I do, right?”
His lips rolled inward, and his brows pulled together. “I—”
“You two ready to rock and roll? Phillip’s gone.”
She blinked at the sound of Asher’s voice on the other side of the door.
Owen quickly released his hold and staggered back. “Be right out.”
“Hurry up,” Asher responded. Sam could hear the heavy footsteps of his boots as he left.
Owen adjusted his jeans, and she bit her lip as she watched him try to hide his desire. “I might need a second.” He turned away.
She stepped behind him and trailed her hand up his hard back, her fingers slipping over his now closely cropped hair.
“You think touching me will get me to calm my dick down?”
“It must be the adrenaline of everything going on that’s making me lose my mind,” she said apologetically.
He faced her, his jeans still tented from his massive erection. “Adrenaline can definitely increase your sexual appetite.” He eyed her while taking a hard swallow.
“It happens to you a lot?” She didn’t want to think about him with other women. She didn’t have time to decipher the brief flicker of jealousy that had crossed through her, either.
“Sex on an op?” He shook his head. “You’d be a first.” His eyes thinned when he stepped closer to her. He caressed her cheek, and she turned into his palm, relishing in the way his touch made her feel.
Adrenaline, sure. “We should go . . .”
“They can wait.” His thumb ran over her lips, and her tongue peeked out of her mouth to catch his skin. His nostrils flared slightly. “I just need one more second alone with you, one more second to ignore the ‘sick shit of the world.’”
When his fingers found her short locks, he gave a slight tug on her hair, tipping her chin up. His other hand skated down her throat before dropping underneath her blouse and grazing her nipple.
“Owen,” she whispered, arching her pelvis with the need to feel him. “I don’t think this will be an arousal killer, either. Just an FYI.”
He lifted his mouth to her ear, and his breath there had her breasts puckering even more.
“You can’t fight nature,” he said before claiming her mouth as if her very breath belonged to him.
His tongue touched her lips like a command, seeking entrance, and she gave it to him.
Seconds? A minute, maybe? At some point, he staggered back and dragged both palms down his face.
Her trembling fingers fixed her blouse and bra strap, so she wouldn’t expose a nipple to Liam or Asher.
He lightly scowled. “I shouldn’t want to fuck you six ways from Sunday right now.”
“Only six?”
Her words had him catching her eyes. “I can’t get enough of you, even though I don’t want to want you.”
“We have a million different reasons to stay away from each other.”
His brows pinched tight. “And yet, why aren’t we?”
“I guess we don’t have time to figure that out right now.”
“In my line of work, there’s never a right time.” And with that, he started for the door.
To hell with his erection, apparently.
He held the door open and waited for her to walk out. She forced the heavy breath to remain in her lungs as she moved past him.
She caught sight of Liam and Asher down the hall. They both abruptly whirled away from her, as if they’d caught Sam and Owen doing naked limbo.
“Let’s go,” Owen said as they caught up to the men.
She tried to ignore the bulge still present beneath his jeans.
“Let’s take the stairs,” Asher said outside her apartment door.
Liam unlocked the Suburban once they were in the parking garage, and she scooted onto the back seat.
Sam strapped on her belt, and her gaze skated to Owen now next to her. His hard-on was almost gone, but his hand rested atop his jeans, concealing whatever was left of it.
If Owen was a distraction for her, did that mean she was throwing him off-balance, too? Was she impacting his focus? Was she dangerous to him?
She’d lost Brad. She couldn’t lose him, too.
She inwardly sighed. She didn’t have Owen in the first place, though. I can’t have him.
“This is a normal day for you guys, isn’t it?” she asked.
Liam pulled out of the parking garage. “We’re usually a lot more fun.”
“I get the distinct feeling your version of fun might vary slightly from mine.” She wondered if they were “more fun” on the ops that weren’t so personal.
“With what we do, if we don’t lighten the mood every once in a while, shit could get ugly pretty fast.” Asher’s admission had her looking at him in surprise.
Owen looked out his side window, and it was as if any humor or buzz of desire she’d felt went right out the glass with his gaze.
All that was on her mind now was Owen and his thirst for vengeance.
He wouldn’t really kill a man in cold blood, though, would he?
She’d wanted justice for years, but she never thought she’d have the chance to do it herself. No, she’d sat safely in the comfort of her home while men had suited up in combat gear to handle the evil of the world. Men like the three guys in the car with her.
If it was okay to take out a terrorist with a drone in the blink of an eye, would it be okay to take out Teteruk, the man who’d murdered two Navy SEALs and a scientist?
How did anyone really know which lines were okay to cross?
“It’d be a lot easier if we could all meet up at TOC,” Asher said as they pulled out onto the road, scattering her thoughts.
“TOC?” She arched a brow.
“Old habit.” Asher waved a dismissive hand.
“No exceptions for me, though, huh?”
“Sorry, darlin’, but no,” Liam answered.
“Are we thinking it was the deliveryman who threatened Phillip?” Asher pivoted to face the back again.
“Maybe.” Owen’s face was drawn tight when he looked Asher’s way. “But we still need to find whoever the hell hired him.”
“I’m thinking the friend, Emily—”
“No way,” Sam cut Asher off.
“I didn’t mean her, exactly, but I’m betting someone close to her copied your key.”
“The boyfriend would be too easy,” Liam said from behind the wheel as if disappointed by the idea. “But my money is on him.”
“I doubt Blane could pull all of this off,” she said.
“He’s probably the small fish, sweetheart,” Asher said before facing forward. “But we need him to catch the whale.”
“Not a shark?” Liam glanced at Asher.
“We’re the sharks, bro,” he said with a laugh.
“Nah, we’re the SEALs,” Liam replied,
and their banter had her smiling.
Smiling. I’m smiling right now. She touched her cheeks, shocked by the warmth there. “And you’re still SEALs, aren’t you?”
Liam glanced back at her. “Of course.” He smiled. “You don’t ever stop being a SEAL.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant, and he knew it, but she wouldn’t push. One thing was for damn sure: the rumors floating around the upper echelon of Washington were true: there really was a top-secret black ops group working for the president. And these guys sure as hell were it.
She swallowed the lump the size of a boulder. “It’s really Blane?”
She could practically hear Jessica’s nod over the speakerphone. “I’m doubting it’s a massive coincidence that his company received a shipment of the same batch of bugs.”
Sam shifted her gaze to Liam as he pulled the SUV to the side of the road and began inputting a new address into his phone’s GPS. “That’s Emily’s place.” She pressed a hand against the back of Asher’s seat. “Blane’s at her place right now?” She thought about the text she’d gotten from Emily that morning. Emily’s brother had been picked up by Secret Service and taken to the president an hour ago. Emily must have skipped work since Jake had flown in from London. “What if he hurts her?”
“Based on our intel, this guy just influences policy decisions in D.C.; he’s never actually hurt anyone. Plus, he has no way of knowing we’re on to him,” Jessica explained.
She tried to let Jessica’s words reassure her, but still, Emily was alone with the guy responsible for having bugged her apartment. And, oh God, he’d spied on her in her bedroom. Her stomach wrenched at the reminder.
“We need to find out who the hell hired this guy,” Owen said, and his voice sounded almost hoarse, as if a brush of anger had painted strokes inside his throat, clenching his words.
“And we’re sure he’s at Emily’s apartment?” Sam asked again.
“Traffic cams picked up his plate. He’s still parked outside her building,” Jessica answered. “Be safe. Call me when you have news.”
“Always, Peaches,” Asher said. Then the call ended, and an eerie silence claimed the vehicle.
“Are you guys carrying?” Sam asked as they neared Emily’s townhouse.
Owen looked over at her and gave a curt nod. “We’re strapped. Don’t worry.”
She hadn’t remembered seeing him hide a weapon beneath his clothes that morning, but he was a covert operative, so of course, she wouldn’t have noticed.
These guys were probably trained to blend in, but hell, there was nothing ordinary about the muscled men in the car with her, especially Owen. Since meeting him last week, he’d somehow managed to remind her that life could be so much more, more than she’d ever thought it could be.
I want you to have everything in life. I want you to be so happy your cheeks hurt from smiling. Her mind kept replaying those words, spoken during a Skype call from Brad when he had been deployed. The message now had her tensing from head to toe.
Owen’s knuckles tapped at the side of her thigh a second later. “You good?”
Her thoughts rattled around in her head for a moment, before she could finally look at him. “Nervous,” she said softly. “I don’t want anything happening to Emily.” Or you.
“What’s the plan?” Asher asked once they’d parallel parked in front of Emily’s townhouse.
A memory popped to mind. “Emily has a gun. It’s in her bedroom safe.” She unbuckled and looked expectantly at Owen.
“Good to know. Do you think she gave Blane the code?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” She pursed her lips in thought. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“I need you to try and hold it together, okay?” He pointed to her purse, sitting on the floor by her heels. “Call Emily. Tell her you’re outside, and you need to come in to talk to her.”
She nodded and retrieved her cell.
“Try to determine if Blane can overhear your conversation, and if not, tell her we’re all coming in,” Owen told her.
She squeezed her emotions down her throat, and when the line connected, her eyes fell closed. “Hey,” she said as casually as possible when Emily picked up. Emily was okay. Thank God. “Is Blane around?”
“In the shower. Why?” Emily was quiet for a moment, and Sam mouthed shower to Owen.
The four of them stepped out of the SUV, and Owen motioned for her to stay sandwiched between him and Asher. Liam trailed behind them to the door.
“Can you let me in?” she asked Emily, the phone trembling in her hand. Somehow, she felt like she was betraying her friend. “I’m outside. It’s important.”
“Um. Yeah.” Through the phone, she could hear the sound of the chain being slid from its lock a few seconds later.
“I have Owen with me, and his friends,” she sputtered, right before the door opened.
Emily’s eyes widened in surprise, and she nearly dropped the phone.
Sam sidestepped Owen, needing to get to her best friend. “Is Blane still in the shower?”
“Uh.” Emily blinked. “Maybe.” Her focus drifted back to Owen and the other two guys. “What’s going on?”
“Blane sent the photo. He’s been spying on me.” Sam swallowed. “They need to talk to him.”
Emily’s face blanched, and Sam could tell she was on the brink of denying the possibility, but when her eyes swept to Sam’s face, she took a breath and stepped out of the way.
It was the kind of trust only a best friend could give, and Sam was grateful. “I’m sorry,” Sam mouthed as the three men moved past them and entered the foyer of her townhouse.
Emily slowly shut the door and tucked her phone into the pocket of her long pink silk robe. “He’s in the shower upstairs.”
“In your bedroom?” Liam asked, and she nodded.
Owen looked at the stairs before glancing at Emily. “Does he carry a gun? Or know the code to your safe?”
“No.” She cupped her mouth and leaned against the interior wall as her eyes lifted to the flight of stairs off to her right.
“Stay here,” Asher said. “We’ll be down with him in a minute.” Liam and Asher moved so quietly up the stairs, she could barely hear them creaking in the twentieth-century historical townhouse.
Owen pointed to the hall, which led to the living room and kitchen area. “Come on.”
Sam reached for Emily’s elbow and guided her, knowing her best friend was shocked at the moment.
“I don’t understand.” Emily hunkered down on one of the couches and pulled a pillow to her lap.
Sam sat next to her and gently squeezed her forearm. “This whole thing is such a mess. I’m so sorry you got dragged into it.”
“Get your fucking hands off me!” a man shouted a moment later.
Sam jumped in alarm at the thuds pounding above her.
“They’re fine. Don’t worry.” Owen gave a reassuring nod, and a moment later, Asher and Liam came into the room. Between them stumbled Blane, dressed only in boxers. Blood trickled from his lower lip.
Emily gasped and clutched the pillow tighter.
“What’s going on?” The man’s gray eyes darted around the room. He looked even more frazzled than Phillip had earlier.
“Sit.” Owen issued the command and pointed to the lone leather chair opposite the couch. “If you move, they’ll shoot you in the kneecap.”
It was the first time Sam had noticed a drawn weapon.
Asher held a silver and black gun. She wasn’t sure what kind it was, but God . . . everything just suddenly felt a hell of a lot more real.
Blane lifted his hands as he walked to the chair and sat.
Mr. Drago. Maybe Blane wasn’t Russian, but now her nickname for the guy was fitting, particularly if he was taking money from someone to try and block her efforts to effect peace between Ukraine and Russia.
Blane gripped the arms of the chair. His calf muscles tightened as his toes dug into the carpet beneath h
is feet. “Emily?” He took a ragged breath.
“Don’t act like you don’t know why we’re here.” Owen glanced at Sam before moving past her to confront Blane. “You started dating Emily to get close to Samantha. You used her. You tried to buy off Sam’s intern, Phillip, and when you couldn’t, you had to take care of the job yourself.” He paused. “How am I doing so far?”
Emily scooted closer to Sam. This must have been unbearable for her. She’d been sleeping with the asshole.
Sam couldn’t take her eyes off the bastard, though. She wanted to slug him across the jaw herself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Blane lifted his palms, but Owen rushed toward him, yanked him by the arm, and pulled him to his feet.
Owen’s back and neck tensed as he gripped Blane’s jaw, squeezing. “Don’t lie to me. We know it was you, but we want to know why, and we want to know who hired you.”
When Blane didn’t respond, he let go of him and shoved him back into the chair.
“I promise. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Blane rushed out.
Owen peered over his shoulder. “Liam, could you take Sam and Emily out of the room, please? Upstairs?”
She didn’t want to go.
She wanted to see the truth spill from his lips.
But Emily—she’d leave for Emily.
“What the hell is going on?” Emily covered her face once they were in her bedroom. Liam stayed in the open doorway on guard, probably half-listening to whatever was happening downstairs.
The sudden crash from below had her cringing, but he didn’t move a muscle.
Sam moved toward the bed and then noticed the rumpled comforter that lay along the edge.
Awkward.
Emily and Blane had probably just recently had sex. Why’d this have to happen?
She couldn’t tell her friend too much, especially with Liam in earshot. “You were right about the picture and my proposal. I think someone hired Blane to force my hand. He pursued you to get to me, and then he copied your key to my place.” She squeezed her eyes closed, hating this moment. “He put a camera in my bedroom and a bug in my smoke detector, too.”
Stealth Ops Series Box Set Page 39