Protecting His Witness

by Katie Reus

  She couldn’t take any more torture.

  When he slid off the bed she worried he was stopping, but then realized he was grabbing a condom from his bag.

  “I’m on the Pill,” she blurted. She’d been on it forever because it kept her regulated. If not, she had too many not-fun issues. Since she hadn’t been with anyone since him, she was obviously clean and didn’t need to spell it out.

  Vincent dropped his bag as if it was on fire and turned to face her. With the moonlight bathing him, he looked like an ancient warrior standing there; his thighs, stomach and chest all toned muscles and so much perfection she could barely stand it. He might as well have been cut from marble. He cleared his throat once and stepped back toward the bed like a panther stalking his prey. “I’m tested every six months and haven’t been with anyone since my last two tests. And I’ve never gone without a condom. Except…”

  With her. She knew that was what he couldn’t seem to say. She reached out her arms to him and he practically pounced on her, his tongue tangling with hers as he cupped her head in the way she loved. She could taste herself on him and found it wildly erotic.

  His strong chest rubbed against her breasts as they kissed, the friction stimulating her nipples and working her up even more. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist, grinding against him and soaking up his heat.

  He’d already tested her slickness so she wasn’t surprised when he thrust inside her without further teasing. She was, however, surprised by how full she felt. All the air rushed from her lungs in one whoosh as he stilled and she adjusted to his size. Pulling his head back, he looked down at her, faint concern etched on his handsome face.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  Unable to find her voice, she nodded. She was more than okay. She felt absolutely amazing. Her inner walls clenched and tightened around him, molding to his thick length as she pumped her hips against his once.

  That was all the incentive he needed to start moving. She clutched onto his back as he began thrusting in an intense rhythm she could barely keep up with. When he reached between their bodies and tweaked her clit with his thumb and forefinger, she surged into orgasm.

  The sharp climax took her off guard. For so long she’d used her hand to get off and she had the movements down to an art. But this was nothing like her self-pleasuring.

  As Vincent slammed into her over and over, her orgasm pitched higher and higher as pure bliss hit all her nerve endings. Closing her eyes, she moaned and let her head fall back against the pillow as it continued to punch through her, battering her senses with no reprieve.

  Letting out his own shout, he buried his face against her neck and groaned as he released himself inside her. His warmth filled her and she dug her fingers into his backside as his thrusts slowed, only letting up when he finally stilled inside her.

  Breathing hard, she could feel the erratic beat of his heart. Her body protested when he lifted off her, but she realized he wasn’t going far. He propped up on his forearms to look down at her, his expression one of a supremely satisfied male. “Next time I’m teasing you until you beg.”

  Grinning, she lightly pinched his behind. She was just glad there was going to be a next time. She still had no clue what was going to happen between them or what kind of future they could even have, but she was going to soak up every second of this time with Vincent that she could.

  But the truth was, no matter what, she wasn’t giving him up without a fight. As he’d climaxed inside her, the knowledge had slammed into her as hard as her own orgasm. She’d sacrificed him once, she wasn’t doing it again.

  Chapter 7

  The parking lot of Jordan’s condo complex was quiet in the pre-dawn hours. Patience was a virtue and after hours of waiting for the right moment, it had arrived. No drunken revelers or late night stragglers to see something they shouldn’t. Eliminating others wasn’t a problem, but right now Jordan was the focus.

  Her pain and torment were all that mattered.

  Getting under Jordan’s car was easy enough. Planting the plastic explosives was a different story. Curtis had always been in charge of bombs and rigging any fires to start. But, it was beyond time to step up and get more hands-on experience.

  At least C4 was easy to handle and stable. You could drop it, jump up and down on it or even shoot it and it wouldn’t detonate. Nope, it needed an excessive amount of heat and a detonator.

  This is where things got tricky; inserting the blasting caps. Coming by these had been slightly easier than originally planned. After breaking into an excavation site, locating and stealing the blasting caps had been simple. Killing that guard had been necessary and enjoyable. It was always a thrill to watch the life drain from someone’s eyes. To feel that power of holding someone’s life in your hands.

  After connecting the wires to a cheap throw away cell phone, sliding the thin cylindrical detonators into place was a sensitive job. God, why won’t my hands stop shaking?

  Once the two caps were in and the coast was clear, getting a safe distance away was paramount. That was what Curtis had always said. Bombs and fire were beautiful, but to be respected. Curtis had talked about boosters in detonators before and how they could make a blasting cap more sensitive and powerful, but there was no way to tell if these had them.

  Oh well, soon enough either this would work or it wouldn’t. And Jordan’s lover would be a burning carcass.

  * * * * *

  As warmth spread over her face, Jordan opened her eyes to the sun bathing the bed in a blanket of heat. Rolling over, she frowned to find Vincent’s side empty. But when the delicious aroma of coffee hit her, she smiled.

  She didn’t function well without caffeine, something he knew. Stretching her arms over her head, she savored the delicious soreness spreading through her body. After their first time last night, Vincent hadn’t been even close to done. The man had been almost savage in how much he’d wanted her.

  He’d taken everything she had and she’d given it freely. Being with him again had been a stark reminder to her body what she’d been missing all these years. The idea of giving it up, of giving him up—no way.

  After taking a long, hot shower and brushing her teeth, she changed into one of her bikinis and threw on a light summer dress that tied around her neck. She had no idea what their plans were for the day but she hoped it included sun, sand and a whole lot of sex.

  She’d forgo the first two for the sex though, hands down.

  When she found Vincent in the kitchen cooking—shirtless—her breath caught in her throat. With his back to her and all the natural light flooding the room, his body was illuminated like the warrior god he might as well be. All those taut, perfect lines made her mouth water. As her gaze tracked his body, she was instantly drawn to his scars. They were faint, but she knew what they were. Some were from knife wounds. Another webbed section of skin at the top of his shoulder she was pretty certain was a bullet wound. But he’d never confirmed it when she’d asked him. He’d just said that he couldn’t talk about it. That by itself had been a confirmation of sorts.

  That body. Pre-coffee, it was too much to even focus on. “You better put a shirt on unless you want to get jumped,” she murmured as she stepped into the room. The cool tile felt good against her bare feet.

  He half-turned from where he stood at the stove cooking something that smelled delicious and his lazy, predatory grin stole the rest of her breath. “Jump away.”

  She watched him for a long moment, her heart beating wildly and the dampness between her thighs already growing because of a single, heated look. Shaking her head, she smiled at him. “I will—after you feed me and I get coffee. You tired me out last night.” She felt a blush creeping across her cheeks at the admission. It was the best kind of exhaustion, but still, she needed sustenance.

  Of course his grin just grew in that totally smug male way as he turned back to the stove. “We’re not even close to done, baby.”

  She certainly hoped not. “So�
�what’s on the agenda for today? Are you able to stay in Key West for a little while?” she asked as she snagged a coffee mug, hoping her question sounded casual when it was anything but. They hadn’t talked much last night and she wasn’t sure what was going to happen between them now.

  “I’ve built up a lot of vacation days and I’ve already let my boss know I’ll be taking time off for a while.”

  A while, what did that mean? She wanted to push but felt weird doing so. Years ago she’d been comfortable asking him anything, but right now things were still unsettled between them. At least that’s how she felt. But she could focus on the positive. He was staying in town, which meant they got to spend more time together. “Want to be geeky tourists today? Head down to one of the beaches, then hit up the shops on Duval?” He’d probably hate the shopping part, but she threw it in there anyway.

  “How about instead of shopping, we go parasailing or jet skiing?” he asked as he pulled the pan off the stove. When he moved she saw a plate of bacon he’d already cooked. It was that delicious scent that had her stomach rumbling.

  Jordan sat at one of the high top chairs at the counter with her coffee. “Sounds fun, but let’s do both. Parasailing, then jet skiing.” She was ready to have fun and stop feeling like she had to look over her shoulder all the time.

  “Works for me, but first you’re eating. Then…” he trailed off as he pulled two plates down from one of the cabinets.

  She knew exactly what would happen after they ate and she wasn’t complaining. “You’re part machine, I swear.”

  He snorted as he started piling bacon and scrambled eggs onto their plates. “Now that I’ve got you under the same roof, I’m taking advantage.”

  Her toes curled at the almost ragged way he said that. Before she could respond, he continued. “Want any toast?”

  She shook her head as she watched him move around the kitchen. A man cooking was just plain sexy all by itself, but Vincent cooking—shirtless—yeah, she was going to have a freaking heart attack. All her coffee had done was wake her up and now she was even more aware of the deliciousness that was Vincent.

  As he slid a plate piled with way too much food in front of her, he took his own seat and gave her a look she couldn’t quite define. It was almost assessing. “This looks amazing, thanks for cooking—and for making coffee.”

  He half-smiled and her heart rate jumped up a notch. “I remember what a monster you are without caffeine.”

  It was true, so she ignored the statement as she took a bite of bacon. Sweet heaven. Awesome sex and great food. She could get used to this, even if she was afraid to.

  “How long do you plan to stay down here? And what do you plan to do now that you’re not in hiding anymore?” Vincent’s softly asked questions were like bombs going off in the quiet room.

  Jordan turned to look at him again and found that same assessing expression on his face. She had no clue what she was going to do—but she did know she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. “I don’t know. This summer I’m hoping to figure out where I want to live and work and all that fun stuff. I’ve got some money saved and I’m basically staying here for free so…” She shrugged.

  “You plan to teach again?” He hadn’t even touched his food.

  The way he was watching her was almost unnerving. She hated that he’d gone from sensual, teasing Vincent to being unreadable. He didn’t look angry or anything, but it still jarred her. “Yes. I love it.” And there wasn’t anything else she’d ever had a drive to do. When she’d been in college getting her degree, she’d thought she wanted to teach younger kids but after her time in New Mexico she realized high school was the right age range for her.

  “There are plenty of teaching jobs in Miami,” he said casually before turning all his attention to his plate.

  She blinked at him, unsure how to respond. He didn’t seem to expect one though as he practically inhaled his food, so she followed suit and started eating even though butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach at his statement.

  Vincent was basically implying exactly what she’d hoped for in the deepest part of her heart, but hadn’t been willing to admit even to herself. It sounded like he wanted her in Miami. That was good, right? It had to be. Still, it was a huge decision.

  “Food not good?” Vincent’s soft voice cut through her thoughts and she realized she was just pushing the southwestern style eggs around her plate.

  “No, it’s great. I’m just thinking.” Something she didn’t really want to do. Making so many decisions about the future made her head hurt.

  “About what?” Now the sensual tone was back and it sent a shiver of awareness curling through her. He’d turned in his chair, swiveling toward her and giving her the full view of that magnificent chest. Sweet Lord, the man was trying to drive her insane.

  Food forgotten, she set her fork down and slid off her chair, covering the distance between them in seconds. She could see the faint surprise in his gaze the moment before their lips touched, but it was gone before lust took over.

  Grabbing onto his shoulders, she moaned into his mouth as he dragged her between his spread thighs. His hands moved with ridiculous ease as he expertly untied her halter dress and bathing suit top. As both pieces fell down around her body, baring her breasts, he cupped them in a possessive gesture that made her melt.

  Arching her back, she pushed into his grip, savoring the feel of his big hands—then a low rumble seemed to almost shake the building. Like a sonic boom or something.

  They both pulled back at the same time, but Vincent was tense, his expression hard. “Stay here,” he ordered.

  Blinking, she frowned as he hurried out of the kitchen toward the hallway. What the hell? She hurriedly started securing her bikini top, then her dress. Moments later he returned carrying a gun. Her eyes widened, not because of the gun—the man was always carrying a weapon—but because she couldn’t figure out why he needed one. “What’s going on?” she whispered, even though it was just the two of them.

  “I don’t know, but stay put.” His expression was still stony as he hurried to the sliding glass doors. His movements were cautious as he stepped outside, scanning the pool area down below.

  When he came back inside, he shut the drapes and started for the hallway. Panic started to hum through her at his tenseness. What the hell was he worried about? Following him, she knew he was aware of her in the hallway because he let out an annoyed growl.

  At the front door, he didn’t turn around, but muttered a “stay here,” before he eased the door open. Weapon drawn, he moved outside with a liquid grace, leaving the door only half open.

  Quietly, she moved up behind him, but paused when his entire body went rigid and he let out a guttural curse. A raw, almost burning scent teased her nose. Since she couldn’t see anything, she ducked down and peered around his body.

  And froze.

  In the parking lot below them, dark smoke billowed high into the air above a burning car. Her car. Thick orange flames danced along the underbelly and the windows had all been blown out, leaving hideous gaping holes. The stench of burning rubber filled the air, making her feel nauseous. She felt glued to the spot as she stared at the carnage and tried to wrap her mind around what she was seeing.

  “My car…”

  “Someone blew it up,” he said, matter of fact as he propelled her back inside.

  For a moment she started to struggle, but he put firm hands on her shoulders and pressed her against the hallway wall. “Jordan, someone blew up your car. I’m not letting you outside. For all we know that was a setup to draw you out. I doubt it, but I’m not taking any chances. We’re calling the cops—though I’m sure they’ve already been alerted—and I’m getting you the hell out of here. And I want to talk to your fucking handler because this kind of attack is personal and it was aimed at you. If there’s something they didn’t tell you, we’re going to find out today.” He was practically shaking as he spoke, the anger emanating of
f him potent and dangerous.

  She knew it wasn’t aimed at her though. A tremor snaked through her body and she was vaguely aware of the sound of sirens in the distance as she nodded. Had her WITSEC handler kept something from her? Jordan didn’t want to believe it. But it was possible that her handler had missed something. Okay, more than possible. Now it seemed almost probable. “I’ll get the number.”

  Terror settled deep inside her at the thought that this was somehow connected to Curtis Woods. There was no doubt the man was dead, but what if the Feds had screwed up and his brother wasn’t? Or what if this had nothing to do with her testimony against him at all? Any option was terrifying because she was basically fighting an unknown threat. And she’d unknowingly dragged Vincent into it with her.

  Chapter 8

  Vincent couldn’t remember ever being so angry. Forcing himself to remain calm, he leaned against the doorframe in Jordan’s room as she retrieved her cell phone from her nightstand. Her hands shook as she picked it up and that only further enraged him. He hated seeing her scared.

  Whoever had destroyed her car was clearly targeting her and he was going to keep her safe, no matter what it took. And make her would-be attacker pay. He was certain that violent fire bomb attack last night was related to her car exploding. There was no way it was a coincidence and even before the police confirmed it, he knew that explosion wasn’t an accident. So that left a hell of a lot of questions.

  Jordan closed the distance between them and started to hand her cell phone to him, but then snagged it back, her expression pinched. “Her name is Edith Clark, but…I should call her first, explain what’s going on.”

  Nodding tightly, he waited as she scrolled through her numbers then pressed send on one of the names. As she held up the phone to her ear he snagged it from her hand, not caring how forceful he was being.

  “Vincent,” she snapped, but he turned away from her and strode down the hallway toward the living room as it rang. Stretching his legs released a fraction of his pent up energy, but not much. Beating the shit out of the bomber was the only thing that could do that.