by Zoe Dawson
Her arms tightened around herself, and he could barely stand the pain on her face. She was unraveling and, if he was being honest, he’d expected it to happen either in private or before now. Exhaustion broke down the defenses faster than anything. He knew that from his training and from experience, had been taught ways to contain his emotions, finish the mission, no matter what horrible thing or personal catastrophe had happened.
But he wasn’t a spy anymore. That hit him like a ton of bricks. He didn’t have to be secretive or guarded. He didn’t have to hide the fact that he wanted to comfort this woman.
“I’m not giving up. I’m just so afraid for him,” she whispered.
He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. For a moment he just held her, fortifying her and giving her a shoulder to lean on for now. Until she was strong again.
He bent down and kissed her hair, wanting to connect with her like never in his life.
When he kissed her head, the tenderness, the comfort from that gesture, rushed through her. It was tantalizing for a woman who had been alone for a long time, fiercely independent and determined not to give in to weakness. She’d had to be strong for Lily her whole life. Emma had told herself over and over in the shower everything was going to be all right. Yet anxiety churned in her gut anyway. If they had tipped off the cartel they were after Matty, what repercussions would follow? That was what she couldn’t seem to shake. That, somehow, they had made things worse. But what was the alternative?
She turned in his arms, and he hugged her hard. Achingly moved by the hug, even more moved by the protective way he tucked her head against his shoulder, Emma shut her eyes and struggled against the sudden threat of tears.
Resting his cheek against her hair, Derrick rubbed her back, and Emma turned her face against his neck, saturating herself in his touch.
“Emma, there was no other course of action. The Ortegas were going to find out sooner or later. We have to move forward.”
She looked up at him, his gaze troubled. He lifted a wisp of hair off her face and carefully tucked it behind her ear. It was then that Emma understood that her attraction to Derrick was more than she could handle, cosmic, gigantic and overwhelming.
She took his face between her hands, then stretched up and gave him a soft kiss.
He stopped breathing and went very still. Emma could feel the need in him, the lonely, lonely need, and she put her heart and soul into that kiss, wordlessly telling him things she couldn’t say aloud. A shudder coursed through him, and he drew a ragged breath, catching her by the back of the head, his jaw flexing beneath her hand as he responded. He moved his mouth slowly against hers, tasting her, savoring her, drawing her breath from her and leaving her weak.
It went on and on until Emma felt as if she were suffocating from all the sensation pouring in on her, and she flattened her hand against his chest. Derrick tensed and dragged his mouth away from hers. His heart was slamming, and his breathing was harsh and uneven, but he gathered her up in a cuddling embrace, and Emma hung on to him, needing him—needing his strength around her. Finally, Derrick ran his hand up her back, pressing her to him. He turned his head, placing an unsteady kiss against the curve of her neck, then nestled her closer. “Together, we’ll get him back.”
Emma closed her eyes and hugged him hard, moved by his husky admission. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he murmured as the knock sounded against the door. “The food,” he said, easing away from her.
She was in big trouble with Derrick. Big, big trouble.
Chapter Nine
Derrick, now fully dressed, had the bellman set up the table in the middle of the room. Derrick tipped him and closed the door after he left.
She moved over to the table, still feeling a bit shaky. It had been sweet of him to find out about her sister for her, but she experienced a stab of guilt that she was indulging in kissy-face with Derrick when she should be working to track down who had Matty and had thrown her sister down the stairs.
She hoped that Lily would come out of her coma. Hoped that she would be all right and when she got Matty back, they could all be a family again. Emma felt so petty about their fight now that she knew Commander Ward was part of Lily’s life. Maybe she had been jealous that Lily was getting on with her life, or maybe she had been afraid of her sister leaving her alone. Maybe Emma was afraid to get on with her own life?
She closed her eyes at that realization.
The scent of the food made her stomach growl and her mouth water. Derrick took the lids off her burger and his, setting them aside. Emma dragged one of the chairs over to the table and settled into the seat. This wasn’t exactly the best setup to get involved with a man. Part of it was all that adrenaline jacking them up and the other part was the forced proximity to a man she was attracted to, but was seeing in something more intense than a normal dating situation. Not that she was dating Derrick or would date him. She ran her hands through her hair, deciding that thinking about anything but food was going to be counterproductive until she got some sleep and was able to think in a rational manner.
She set the napkin against her lap and picked up the burger, taking a bite. Chewing, she glanced at Derrick. He was focusing on his meal. “Thank you again for checking up on my sister. It was going to be my first call after the shower.”
He nodded. “I’m sure it’s heavy on your mind. But you have your grandmother to stop in and visit.”
Emma snorted, setting down the burger without biting into it. “I’m sure she’s much too busy to worry about Lily,” she bit out, then took an uneven breath. Picking up her burger, she didn’t encourage Derrick to ask any questions. Her volatile relationship with Bess as dinner conversation would only cause her indigestion.
They continued in silence for several surprisingly comfortable minutes, comfortable enough that she ate the rest of her burger and sat back to enjoy the coffee.
“Inspector Reyes and Agent Velasco are going to be landing here tomorrow and escorting us to Caliche. We’ve lost any advantage we would have had trailing your nephew by car, but could possibly beat him to Caliche.”
“Escort us?” she said with a bit of an edge to her voice.
“Just as a courtesy. I don’t think it was meant as an insult, Emma.”
She set the napkin on the small table and rose, while Derrick wheeled the remnants of their lunch into the hall. “You’re probably right. I’m just on edge. If it’ll get us to Matty faster, I’m all for it.”
She walked to the TV and grabbed up the remote, turning it on. Flipping through the channels, she found their news station. Derrick came up to her and turned her around. “Emma, this isn’t a slight against us. They are here to help.”
She breathed a huff of breath. “I’m just tired, Derrick. I’m sure they don’t mean any disrespect.”
“They don’t want anything to happen to us out on the open road. I don’t want that, either.”
The way he’d said it, the look on his face, made her heart squeeze. She tried to ignore that and focus on business, even though she knew there was some subtext there. “I can handle myself, Derrick. Just to make sure you know that.”
“No, of course you can. You proved me wrong there. This is the best course of action. I agree with Kai. If I didn’t, I would have said so.”
He hadn’t removed his hands from her arms and his touch was strong and warm, thoroughly distracting. “You don’t want anything to happen to me.”
“I didn’t say it was logical, or even rational. It’s…caveman.” He smiled. “And, trust me, it’s not something I’m entirely comfortable with, either. Especially since I was so vocal you shouldn’t be allowed to accompany me. But if I’d been alone, Emma, it would have been much more difficult to get out of that situation. Not that I couldn’t.”
“I have no doubt about that,” she said, even as her insides were melting a little. No one had cared for her. She’d always cared for others, and this felt
strange. “Worry about the cartel. Worry about finding Matty. Don’t worry about me.”
“I will,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “But that doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.”
“Are you going soft on me?” she asked, tilting her head.
He smiled slightly. “Maybe. You’re making me eat my words, lady. I don’t often have to do that.”
“Oh, so you’re usually right?”
“Usually, except when I’m wrong.”
She laughed softly. “Oh, Derrick, there aren’t any guarantees. In anything.”
“I’m aware of that.” Those intense eyes captured hers. “I can’t guarantee a thing, your safety included. I just feel that if we stick together, we have a better chance of dealing with whatever is out there.” His smile returned, but there was something tender, almost vulnerable in it. “We make a good team, Emma. I don’t say that easily because I’m not the best team member.”
She couldn’t manage to look away, couldn’t seem to find whatever it was she had left that would keep her mind strictly on business. “I think we do, too,” she said, being completely honest.
She couldn’t seem to stop her wayward hands as they slid up his hard torso to wrap around his neck. His hands fell away from her upper arms in the movement, snaking around her waist. “Emma,” he warned, swallowing hard. “We could complicate things.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, his hands flattening out and grasping her hips, dragging her against his thick arousal.
She gasped, and he groaned softly, deep in his throat. Then his mouth was finally, blessedly on hers again. And there was nothing tentative about his kiss, regardless of his doubts. He was confident, a warrior. She had no doubts about that. But he was also beautiful, seductive and so very male.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to be with a man who was so responsive to her needs, who pushed her to reach for more, no matter how spent she’d thought herself, but also someone from whom she’d learned the depths of pleasure to be gained from satisfying their needs. She felt aggressive, discovering a confidence that being successful in her other endeavors had never given her. She had no idea if Derrick knew the myriad of gifts he was giving her.
Her heart squeezed, engaged despite her own misgivings and her own fears, as he tenderly drew his fingers along the side of her neck, moving his mouth to the delicate line of her jaw, then following the trail of his fingers.
He was so gentle, this warrior who had subdued several men. So much more of her than her body was at risk of being seduced.
Instinctively she eased away from him, pushed on his shoulders. It wasn’t a shove; she wasn’t strong enough for that, still wanting—craving—what he was giving her but knowing she hadn’t the control needed to protect herself. And she wasn’t ready to surrender. Not fully.
She wore her independence like armor.
How much would she have to give up? Compromise? How vulnerable would he make her?
He allowed her to shift back, then framed her hips in his wide palms when she stepped back unsteadily. He balanced her, kept his hands there firmly, but nothing more.
He did balance her, in so many ways, she thought, struggling for clarity of mind she so desperately needed.
“Maybe you’re right,” she breathed, willing her head to stop spinning, her legs to stop trembling and her heart to stop pounding. “But if I don’t have you, all of you, I might just lose my mind.”
He took her mouth this time like a man starved. There was nothing tender about it, and it was what she needed. She could only let herself feel…whatever he made her feel. Then deal with it later.
Even as he started walking her backward, even as the back of her knees hit the bed, she was aware this was the biggest mistake she’d ever made. And the point was moot. She was making it with her eyes wide open. Because he made her feel so good and telling herself she was strong enough to resist him was laughable.
“Emma,” he murmured, his voice huskier, his body already harder. “Protection.”
“I’m safe on birth control.”
He spun her around, held her close with one arm. He kissed the nape of her neck, sending sensation quivering down to her breasts and into the aching tips of her nipples. His free hand slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts and the panel of her silky underwear, delving to her core. The arm around her waist moved upward until his warm hand pushed aside her bra and cupped her breast, pinching her throbbing nipple at the same time he stroked over her.
She arched into his hand, gasping. She was lost. Lost to the hunger. Lost to the sensations pumping through her. Lost to the urgency of his questing fingers. She moved her hips involuntarily to the pressure of his fingers. An explosion detonated inside her, and a chain of convulsions ripped through her as she came apart.
She was still shuddering, still jerking against his hand and the oh-so-clever fingers he’d slid inside her, when he was already slipping them out and shifting her around so she faced him, taking her mouth with his, even as he slid his hand between them to unbuckle and unzip.
She craved him, needed him filling her up, as she’d never craved anything before. She would have pushed his hands away and torn at his pants herself if she’d thought it would get him inside her any faster.
He was freeing her, getting his shorts off, and just as he bared her, he was pushing her back onto the bed. He pushed inside and she pushed back, grinding on him, glorying in the long groan of satisfaction she wrenched from him as she clenched her still-twitching muscles tightly around him and accepted him into her body, needing so much more.
He was on his knees, his arm around her back, his mouth on hers, his tongue deep inside, thrusting. She took both as fast and deep as she could. She felt his energy as his climax built. She bit his bottom lip, causing him to growl and his hips bucked higher, which compelled her to cry out as he found a sweet spot that almost made her mindless with pleasure.
His masterful movement shot sparks everywhere, and she arched beneath him, trying to release the building electricity between them. Her movement took him over the edge, groaning, growling, as he pistoned inside her while coming in a shuddering fury. She clung to him tightly, clutching him to her, even as she struggled to breathe around the sheer mind-blowing pleasure.
Fighting for breath, she cradled his head against the curve of her neck, a fierce, almost frantic protectiveness welling up in her. She was sure the only thing holding her together was the savage strength of his arms.
It took a while for her to get her bearings, for the storm of emotion to ease, but when she could at last collect her senses, she hugged him and stroked his hair, profoundly moved by the care he’d taken with her.
His expression was more serious than she’d ever seen it, his gaze locked on hers so intently it was as physical a connection as his warm body on hers. There was a stunned silence between them, the power and essence of which she saw reflected in the depth of those striking eyes.
It was nice to know she wasn’t alone in discovering the intensity of what she’d felt had happened just now, even if she couldn’t define it, and common sense just completely deserted her. This had been life-altering. She just wasn’t sure how much it would hurt, change her life or affect her heart. She could barely think straight.
Closing her eyes against the feelings he invoked, she stroked his head, needing to give him comfort, so full of feeling for him that she could barely stand it.
Derrick stirred in her arms, and she lifted her head and found his mouth, kissing him with infinite gentleness and desire.
Brushing the hair back from her temple with his thumb, he released an uneven sigh and kissed her back, his mouth warm and moist and seductive still.
He exhaled raggedly, then tucked her face against the curve of his shoulder. Emma rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he was totally naked against her. Derrick tightened his hold on her, his chest expanding as he took a deep, unsteady breath. Fingering the soft
silk of his hair, she kissed his temple, tenderness filling her. “Now things are complicated,” she whispered unevenly against his cheek. “Boy, are they ever.”
Bracing his weight on one arm, he lifted his head, his touch leaving her breathless as he kissed her mouth again. “I’m thinking it was worth it,” he said, his tone husky and intimate. “Boy, was it ever.”
Suppressing a grin, she parted her lips and kissed him, the caress gentle and searching. Inhaling unevenly, Derrick slid his arms around her in a warm embrace, deepening the kiss as she smoothed her hand up the center of his back.
It was as if he couldn’t get enough of that soft, caressing intimacy and it was a long time later when he reluctantly eased away. Brushing back her hair with his knuckles, he lifted her chin and gave her another light kiss, then released his breath in an unsteady sigh. “Let’s get some real sleep,” he whispered gruffly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his jaw. He turned his face and found her lips as he slid his hand up the back of her head, deepening the contact, molding her against him with the weight of his body. Finally, he eased away and gave her one final kiss, then rolled free. His profile was outlined by the bright sunlight coming through the wide window; she watched him shed his shirt, longing to caress every inch of his muscled body. He turned toward the window and pulled the drapes closed against the bright day. Back at the bed he lifted her into a sitting position and pulled off her shirt and undid her bra. “Beautiful,” he whispered, running his hands over her breasts, kissing and tonguing her nipples as he pushed her onto her back.
“I thought you wanted to sleep.”
“I’m a little busy right now,” he said, sucking her hard nipple. She sent her hands into his hair as he switched to the other, his hands molding over her waist and hips. “Derrick,” she whispered, and he moaned as he moved down her body—making her come again with his mouth, then his hands and his mouth again, until she was mindless.