“You’re an unusual man, Special Agent Cam Harris.” She gave him a sidelong look. He kissed her jawline. She leaned into him, squashing her breasts against him. It was his turn to close his eyes. He nibbled her earlobe as he pulled her closer. Hooking his fingers into that come-and-get-me thong, he said goodbye to it, sliding it down her incredible legs. She stepped out of it.
“I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for a while. It’s time to enjoy it.” He kissed along her shoulder, nibbling against her skin. She shivered. He skimmed his hands down to her taut ass, squeezing. Her body trembled. Damn. She was the play gym and he was the kid that wouldn’t leave it. He wanted to dawdle, to savor every part of her. She had other ideas. She grabbed his hands and knelt, pulling him down on top of her. He settled between her legs. This was good, too.
Bending his head, he kissed her lips. She kissed him back fervently. He ignored that for the time being. She was the drug that he couldn’t get enough. Moving away from her mouth, he kissed the soft underside of her left breast while squeezing and molding the other one. He was dizzy on her taste, her smell. The way she looked.
She stretched her arms above her head. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucked deep, placing one hand on her quivering abdomen. She bowed upward, wanting more. He gave her more. Her body undulated in time with each draw at her breast. If it was possible, he grew harder.
Intending on bringing them both to the edge before entering her, he scraped his teeth across her nipple, and she cried out. He did the same to the other one, alternating back and forth while she first held his head, then gripped his shoulders with strong fingers. “Damn it, Harris, what are you waiting for?”
This time he did laugh, sitting on his haunches to slide the condom on and to catch his breath. Her body was rosy from his kisses. She met his gaze, comfortable in her nakedness. He returned to her, sinking into one more drugging kiss as he eased his length into her. He groaned, savoring every sensation of being inside her.
She was tight. Tight, slick, and hot. He didn’t count himself as a romantic man, but right now, seated deep inside her, felt so right. Like coming home. Dazed by the notion, he focused on maintaining “slow and leisurely,” when he really wanted to slam into her, claim her. Which sounded so medieval.
He withdrew, then slid in deeper, repeating the unhurried pace, enjoying the prolonged sensations. She rose up to meet him, spearing her fingers into his hair, kneading his scalp. Her hands streaked over him, touching, smoothing, driving him mad, urging him on. Until he lost control.
He began to thrust, harder, faster, chasing that elusive pinnacle. Her hands dropped to his shoulders. He pounded into her, vision graying, head spinning. She wanted it hard, chanting “faster” or “almost” as she rose to meet his thrusts. Tingles erupted along his spine, radiating to every nerve ending, centering where they became one. Colors splashed across his closed eyelids. The finish line was close, hovering just out of reach. They raced toward it. And then it overtook them.
She gasped, throwing her head back as her inner muscles clenched around him, tightening, pulsing, as the orgasm roared through him a second later. He might have shouted, he thought he did, continuing to pound into her as he came and came. He scrunched his eyelids tight, raised his head, and rode out the greatest damn orgasm he’d ever experienced.
…
She wasn’t prepared for the climax. Like thunder, it rolled over her, harder, faster, until she screamed into the storm. The lightning struck next, shooting through her, igniting all her nerve endings, stealing her breath away. She gulped air, fuel for the inferno exploding inside her, around her. And she clung to the one constant throughout the fury: Cam.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except hold on to him as the tumult crashed over them both. The orgasm took her to the top of the wave, and then she was falling, tumbling through sensations of pain and pleasure, tingles so intense she prayed they’d never stop.
His voice came to her through the tempest, and she clung to his arms, soaring on the incredible high with him. He was in control of her body, and she rose to meet him, each thrust sending sparks through her, leaving her panting, hoping for more. And she got more, like a little rise in the road, with a drop off that left her squealing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, felt his heart pounding along with hers. And kissed his neck, his chin, that scar.
He fell on to his back after disposing of the condom, dragging her with him. He sucked in air. She smooshed against him after throwing her leg over his pelvis, rested her limp hand on his chest. His heart hammered beneath it. She sighed, eyes drifting shut.
“I don’t think there’s any saving this rug.”
His voice rumbled. He sounded like he’d just finished running a marathon. When his words sunk in, she busted up laughing. “Why Special Agent Harris, I do believe you just cracked a joke. While being buck naked.”
He rose up on his elbows, brow furrowed. “I have a sense of humor. What made you think I didn’t have one?”
She smiled and reached out one forefinger to smooth away his frown.
“You’ve been so serious ever since I saw you in the courtroom. You’re very dedicated to your career.” She traced the scar on his chin. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. So, he didn’t want her noticing the scar. Too bad. His behavior made her all the more curious of how he got it. Even if his gesture was uber-romantic, she’d still get the story of how he came by that mark on his chin. She looked forward to wheedling the information out of him.
“What Brett did was serious. Allowing him the chance to escape rests all on me. If I hadn’t requested that detail—” He broke off suddenly and cast his gaze to her hand that he continued to hold. Lifting her wrist to his mouth, he kissed it. He did it again. His lips were feather soft. Once more, he was attempting to distract her from what he’d obviously not meant to say. Interesting.
She pulled her hand free and sat up. He did the same, watching her like a person watched a strange dog, as if not sure if it would bite. Or, in her case, continue with her questions. Which she damn well was going to do.
“Why would you request a prisoner transfer? That’s gotta be one of the worst jobs in CID. Unless…” She paused as an idea hit her. Before taking the time to mull it over, she made a stab in the dark. “Unless you knew Brett personally? As a friend, maybe? Cam?”
He finally raised his head, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, we were friends since Boot Camp. He saved my life in Kabul a few years ago.”
“Your scar.” She’d known there was a story behind it. She hadn’t expected that one, though. Cam a friend of Brett’s? They didn’t seem like they could be buddies, though on second thought, they both had intense personalities. But where Brett had bent the rules to serve his desires, she already knew Cam would never change the rules to suit himself. Just like now. He was acting as guilty as if he’d committed some crime. He’d been Brett’s friend, not his partner in crime.
“Yes, my scar. It reminds me that I didn’t listen to that little voice that day that something wasn’t right. If it wasn’t for Brett, I would’ve paid for that mistake with my life. For that alone, I owed him my company on his transfer to Leavenworth. Apparently, he didn’t have those same feelings of loyalty.” His lips thinned.
“How’d it happen?” She nodded at his chin.
“We were interrogating some sources who knew about a weapons deal going down in Kabul. I still don’t know what set me off, but the whole thing didn’t feel right. Turned out the guys we were interrogating were decoys in an ambush. We lost Jimenez. He left a widow and two kids.”
She squeezed his hand. She’d been a terp. She knew what it was like to have to rely on the locals for information. Were they honest? Were they backstabbers? You lost hours, days, off your life on every mission. Would this be the day they’d turn on you? She understood his gut feeling, or “Spidey” sense. They all developed one out i
n the field.
“I’m sorry. And they would’ve lost you, if it weren’t for Brett.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, I owe him my life. I took that final detail with him because of that. And because we’d been friends. Instead, I got a toilet tank lid in the face. Escaping was more important than our friendship to Brett. This cause, this call to arms, must mean a helluva lot more to him than relationships.”
“If it’s for what I think it is, it’s a real game changer. Imagine, one world, at peace. No need for armies. Sounds almost like Heaven. Until you think about how many people must be killed in order to become that one-world organization.”
Sadness filled his eyes. Sadness, and guilt. A man like Cam would always feel guilty, ashamed, for losing a prisoner. He was supposed to be above those types of mistakes. That’s what he thought, even if it wasn’t possible.
“If only I’d—”
She put her forefinger over his lips. “Forget the ‘if onlys.’ You thought you mattered to him. You didn’t. Nobody did to Brett. Brett always needed a cause, and once he found one, he had tunnel vision. He makes a good soldier, especially for the wrong side.
“So quit beating yourself up. We know what he’s working for, who he’s working for, to a degree. We have to figure out how to stop him. And I guess attacking me is separate to his objective. The revenge hit because I put him away.”
“Unless he hid something with you, and when he couldn’t get to it, he threw a tantrum and torched your work and attacked your house.”
“I told you—”
“I know. He didn’t visit you much. But it’s the logical conclusion. Whatever it was, it had to be small so that you wouldn’t notice it. Maybe he hid it in your clothes, your purse? Those items would go to his place and back to you.”
He radiated hope. She hated to burst that belief, but the fact was, she’d never found anything suspicious in her belongings. She’d changed her purse since she’d turned Brett in, and she’d done laundry oodles of time since then. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, wanting to let him down gently.
The touch of his lips against hers ignited the desire she thought they’d recently quenched. A burning started low in her body, quickly engulfing her like a wildfire all over again. She wanted him. A chaste kiss wasn’t going to slake this craving. His hands, his lips, his tongue. She wanted it all once more.
She rose to her knees, braced her hands on his muscular shoulders, and deepened the kiss. He broke it off, resisting when she tried to push him backward to the infamous rug. She frowned at him.
“I didn’t come prepared, Audrey.” He sounded winded, his breathing harsh and uneven. “That was my only condom. And there’s something wrong with searching for another dude’s stash.” His words surprised another laugh from her. Just when she thought she had his personality down, he revealed another, more endearing quality than the previous one.
He looked like someone had killed his dog. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I’m on the pill,” she whispered against them. “I’m clean. And I want you. Now.”
He let out a breath. It fanned her face. His eyes darkened and heated, a combination she found sexier than hell. His hands came up to bracket her waist under her ribs.
He spoke, his voice gravelly. “I am, too.” His tongue slipped past her lips, tangling with her as it swept her mouth. He fell backward and she squealed. His body shook as he laughed. He slid his hands down her waist to her hips, adjusting their bodies so that she could take him in. She gasped as he filled her. She threw her head back, finding a rhythm that would assuage the need building within her.
His hands covered her breasts, molded them. “You feel so good,” he whispered as he continued to fondle them and stoke the flames within her. She leaned forward, wanting to feel his mouth on her, and he didn’t disappoint. He suckled one of her nipples and she cried out at the glorious sensation. She rocked her body in time to each draw of his mouth, until the tension inside snapped.
She cried out, riding wave after wave of pure pleasure until he arched one last time on a guttural groan, filling her with warmth. She collapsed on top of him. His arms wrapped around her tightly, holding her against his furiously beating heart. She drifted to sleep, safe in his embrace.
Chapter Fifteen
“Good morning, bitches!”
Sung to the old movie greeting of “Good Morning, Vietnam,” plus the unmistakable sound of a shotgun cocking, had Cam jackknifing to a sitting position while shoving Audrey off him.
Brett had found them.
Cam checked for his service weapon. It was by the computer. Damn it! He stared at the intruder dressed in faded camo, while Audrey groaned and sat up. Her hair looked like she’d taken a mixer to it. Hickeys and beard burns dotted her skin as she crossed her arms in front of her breasts and drew her knees up. She couldn’t hide much of her curves, so he shifted to partially block her from their trespasser’s gaze.
Brett stood at ease with a shotgun cradled in his hands. He’d lost his transfer clothes somewhere along the way. The camo was a bit big on his wiry frame, but he looked too comfortable and confident standing there, eyeballing them with a sneer.
“Couldn’t resist taking my seconds, could you, Cam? You always wanted what I had. Still looking mighty fine, Audrey. Too bad you had to tattle on me. We coulda been king and queen in the gig I’ve got going now. Don’t know what you see in him.”
Cam looked over his shoulder at Audrey, gave a tiny shake of his head. Brett fed off peoples’ reactions. Audrey wouldn’t meet his eyes, though. All her attention was on her ex. She opened her mouth, and Cam scrunched his eyes shut.
“He’s everything you’re not. Strong morals, patriotic, and damn phenomenal in bed.” She let out a tiny whistle and fanned her face.
Oh shit. While a part of him wanted to strut his stuff for being rated phenomenal, the rest of him knew it was dangerous to bait Brett. The guy had some serious Napoleon issues. He’d always prided himself on his looks, his abilities in and out of the bedroom, as well as on the job. His need to be noticed was probably how he’d been suckered over to the dark side. He could be their best soldier.
“That’s not saying much. You always were a lousy lay. Get up, both of you.” Brett motioned with the shotgun.
Cam rose, turning to give Audrey a hand. She brought along the rug, wrapping it around her like a towel. Shit, she filled out the stripes in that damn rug mighty fine. He mentally smacked himself. Those kinds of thoughts were going to get them both killed. He needed to focus and figure out how to get them out of this Charlie Foxtrot. He wondered why his ex-buddy hadn’t taken them out yet. What did he need them for, besides revenge? He guessed he’d find out soon enough.
Brett pulled some zip ties from his cargo pants’ pocket and handed them to Audrey, after kicking Cam’s boxers at him.
“Tie up lover boy here.” He shoved the butt of the shotgun into Cam’s chest, sending him sprawling on the sofa. Cam rubbed his chest. His ex-buddy took a little too much joy out of pushing him around.
“Can’t address me by my name, Brett? Too ashamed of what you’ve become?” He pulled on his shorts.
“There isn’t any shame in changing sides, especially if it’s for a greater good. I tried to get you to join me, Audrey.”
She had to drop the rug to loop the first tie around Cam’s wrists, pulling it snug. Cam saw Brett’s gaze drift over her bare ass. A slow anger percolated within. She shouldn’t be subjected to this degradation. They were paying the price for his loss of control last night, bottom line.
He looked into Audrey’s face. She flicked her gaze over him, and he caught a glint of warmth in her eyes. He mouthed the word no, warning her not to antagonize Brett. The guy was on edge, standing on the balls of his feet while shooting quick glances toward the door he’d kicked in. It wouldn’t take much to send him into attack m
ode.
Cam tugged on his bindings behind his back, but they only locked into place when they were fastened securely, so there wasn’t any slack. Audrey knelt to truss his legs, speaking as she did so.
“I took an oath when I joined the Army, Brett.” Avoiding Cam’s silent message to shut the hell up, she zipped the other tie around his ankles and rose to face her ex with no sign of embarrassment at being stark naked. “I took that promise seriously. What kind of soldier would I have been if I was able to be persuaded to switch sides? Your new bosses should really think that over. You might just flip for the highest bidder. After all, you did it once.”
“Shut up and get dressed.” He kicked her clothes toward her, sparing a look at Zack’s computer desk. Luckily it had gone to sleep, the monitor dark.
Cam watched Audrey pull her thong on, and then her pants, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Brett did, as well, and blurted, “How’d you find us?” Anything to drag the scumbag’s attention off her. It made him sick, even though she handled it well.
Brett met his look only after she pulled her shirt on over her bra. “Your lover left her footprint all over the DW, kinda like you left your marks all over her.” He laughed loudly. Heat rose to Cam’s face. He’d hoped Brett hadn’t noticed Audrey’s skin but no such luck. He tugged on the ties again.
“Didn’t you think I’d be notified whenever someone pinged my screen name? I trained you better than that, Audrey.” He stepped farther into the room, pulled another set of ties from his pants pocket. Before she knew what he was doing, he looped them over her hands and zipped them tight.
“That doesn’t tell us how you got here. I know we didn’t leave a trace.” Cam cocked his head and waited for the answer.
“I’ve got my ways. Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got business in the back room.” He grabbed her elbow, yanked her close. She stiffened like a kid being hugged by an aging aunt. Then he spoke to Cam. “Sorry, bro. I told you back at the gas station I’d cut you some slack because we were friends, but extra info? Not a chance. Especially not after you slept with my ex.”
Zone of Action (In the Zone) Page 15