by Freya Barker
When we get to his house, I fall on the food as soon as my ass hits the couch. Yanis chuckles as I devour the first of the two burritos he was smart enough to get me. He always takes good care of me.
God, I love this man.
The last bite I’m about to pop in my mouth freezes midair. I love him. There’s no qualifications to that thought this time. No buts, no reservations, no fear, and no walls.
“What’s wrong?”
A look of concern washes his features as he sets his burrito down on his plate.
My throat is suddenly thick with emotion and I can’t seem to manage more than a light shake of my head. I have a degree in psychology, I know the sudden wave of emotions is in part because today left me feeling defenseless. But that doesn’t make it any less real.
“Come here…” He plucks the food from my hold and drops it on my plate before hauling me onto his lap, his arms banding around me. “Talk to me,” he urges in a demanding tone.
Too overwhelmed to speak, I take his face in my hands instead, feeling the soft bristle of his short-trimmed facial hair against my palms. Warm blue eyes search my face as I press my lips against his, tasting the salt of my own tears.
“You’re scaring me, Tygrys,” he mumbles against my mouth, right before he takes over the kiss.
Dinner forgotten, he slowly strips me—showing his feelings with gentle eyes, dominant mouth, and worshiping hands—until I’m straddling his lap, my body as naked as my love for him.
With hurried hands I pull his shirt over his head, our mouths fusing back together after the brief separation. As his strong hands dig into the cheeks of my ass, I work on the buttons of his fly. A delicious shiver ripples over my skin as his long fingers track down my crease and find my slick center. The moment his cock springs free, I wrap my fist around the silky, hot steel, and I moan down his throat.
Our moves are instinctive, yet precisely choreographed, as his large hands lift me up while I line up his length at my core. Then he breaks the kiss, lays his head back against the couch, and watches as he lowers me carefully, filling me inch by luscious inch.
Time stands still.
With our bodies anchored together and our eyes locked, no words are necessary to let our hearts speak. Still, I want him to hear.
“I love you.”
One of his hands lift up to my face, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he traces the contour of my mouth with his fingertips before leaving them pressed against my lips.
“Say it again.”
My mouth curves under his touch.
“I love you.”
His eyes close on the last syllable.
Then he lowers his hand, tracing my neck and chest with his fingers, down my belly to where we are connected. I watch his nostrils flare as he rolls the pad of his thumb over my clit, sending a charge through my body. His eyes snap open when my pussy contracts around him, heat blazing from their depths.
His hands find my hips, his grip almost painful as he lifts me slightly.
“Hold on to the back of the couch,” he growls, his mouth barely moving.
I curl my fingers around the rigid frame behind the pillows and grab on tight as he powers up inside me.
My feet are planted in the seat, my legs are burning, and my fingers are cramped in a desperate attempt to hold on as Yanis fucks me hard from below. He appears to command every movement, yet in leaving me on top, control is in my hands.
Our lovemaking a perfect display of the balance we are finding.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Yanis
“Mom.”
My eyes meet Bree’s over a quick breakfast at the diner before we head to the office. Hers widen.
“Did your brother tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“I can’t believe he didn’t mention it.” She sounds put out. “We told him last week.”
“Told him what, Ma?”
“I should’ve called you myself, but he said you were busy and he’d pass it on.”
“Things have been crazy for all of us,” I offer in defense of my brother.
In all fairness to Dimi, he has an infant at home and still managed to keep up with his share of the load these past weeks.
“I understand that, but now you’re not prepared,” she persists.
“For crying out loud, Mom,” I growl, fast losing my patience. “Would you please tell me what you’re calling about?”
Bree is pressing her lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing, and I shoot her a glare.
“We’re moving!” Ma cheers enthusiastically. “To Grand Junction,” she adds when I don’t instantly respond.
It’s on my lips to say “Finally,” but instead go with, “That’s good news.”
Hopefully by the time they get here we’ll have things back in our control. Bree gives me the thumbs-up.
“I know, right?”
“When are you listing your place?”
“Oh, we already sold it. Crops and all. This really nice guy from Cheyenne wants it as his hobby farm, handed over a check right away.”
I drop my head back and look up at the ceiling. Hobby farm, my foot. They’ll be lucky if the check clears.
Jesus, my parents. Lovable but utterly clueless.
I hope to God they didn’t get ripped off. They have a decent acreage and even if their house is not much to speak of, the land is prime. I have a suspicion that was the attraction.
“I can hear you thinking, Yanis,” she scolds me. “But don’t worry, it was a fair market price and the check cleared before we signed the papers.”
I can’t hide the sigh of relief, although I still wonder what constitutes a fair market price in my parents’ minds. They still exist in the seventies.
“When do you have to be out of there?”
“We already are,” she says cheerfully. “Rolled out this morning. Packed everything in the old travel trailer.”
The shock must’ve shown on my face because Bree leans over the table and puts a concerned hand on my arm.
“This morning,” I repeat.
“Crack of dawn. We just stopped in Craig…”
Fuck me. Craig is a couple of hours northeast of here. Two and a half at most.
“…because the trailer is swaying a little. Your dad is going to reload it for better balance.”
I shake my head. That damn trailer was ancient when they got it twenty years ago. It’s a miracle it hasn’t spontaneously collapsed yet. My instinct is to drive out there, but with our situation here so fluid, I don’t want to go too far. Maybe I can get a flatbed over there to load the thing up.
“I’ll send…”
“Stop right there,” she cuts in firmly. “Your father and I are fine. We picked up a value-pack of bungee cords and have three rolls of duct tape in case of an emergency, and your dad is good with his hands.”
He has a green thumb, yes, but I wouldn’t trust the rest of his fingers.
“Call me when you get closer to town.” I lock my eyes with the amused ones across the table. “Bree now lives with me, but we’ll figure out a place for you to stay.”
It’s fascinating how the light gray color instantly darkens as her amused look turns into a full-out glare.
“Sure,” Ma says easily. “Wouldn’t be for long. We already have a real estate agent looking at properties for us.”
“Here? Who is it?”
Part of me already suspects.
“Nicest girl, Dimi recommended her. Name of Megan Denny?”
So much for our nice relaxed morning after yesterday’s madness.
Neither of us finish our breakfast and I slam a few bills on the table. I’m going to have to kill my brother, but that’ll have to wait until I clear the air with Bree, who is pissed. I can venture a guess why, but I wait until we’re in the Yukon before I broach it.
“It makes sense. My parents can bunk at the apartment until they find a place.”
She turns on me with h
er mouth open disbelievingly.
“That’s your reasoning? It makes sense? Well, if that doesn’t make me feel all warm and cuddly inside,” she snaps, and swivels back around, looking straight out the window, her face tight.
“It does. You’re already here,” I defend myself. “It’s not like you weren’t going to end up there permanently anyway. You’re just wasting rent money.”
“Rent money,” she echoes in a dull voice.
I watch her throat move as she swallows and realize I’ve really upset her.
“Tygrys, part of me has always known I had that house built with you in mind. Even when I was determined to ignore my feelings for you.”
Some of the tension leaves her profile and I catch her biting her lip. Taking a calculated risk, I reach out and with a hand to her cheek turn her head my way. A lot of the angry heat is gone from her eyes.
Progress.
“You love me.”
She stubbornly presses those lips together but eventually nods.
“Yeah…” I smile and brush a thumb over her soft cheek. “And I’ve always loved you.”
Instantly her expression softens and a faint blush appears on her cheeks.
“You know that, right?”
She shrugs.
“It helps to hear it.”
“I told you—”
One of her eyebrows lifts up to her hairline.
“No. All you said was something about it being on your lips to tell me you fucking love me, if I recall correctly. You never gave me the words.”
In my mind that had been a declaration, but I can see now it wasn’t exactly well-executed. So I take her face in my hands and lean in to run my nose along hers.
“I love you, Brianne Graves. More every day, and I don’t want to miss a single one of them. Please, move in with me?”
Her lips slowly curve up, revealing her pretty, white smile.
“I will,” she responds but when I go to kiss her, she puts her hand against my lips, adding, “Next time, try leading with that.”
Bree
I’m surprised to see Lena at the office.
She looks up nervously when we walk in the door, her relief evident when she sees it’s just us. I walk straight to her and wrap her in a big hug.
“I never got the chance to properly thank you yesterday,” I tell her, taking a step back so I can look at her. “Being kidnapped once was enough of a blow to my street cred. Getting nabbed twice would’ve decimated it. I owe you big time for not letting that happen.”
I’m glad to see her grin back at me.
“I’m just glad I didn’t accidentally hit you, ‘cause I’m pretty sure the boss would’ve fired my ass.”
Yanis grunts affirmatively behind me.
“Heard from Kai?” he asks, decidedly changing the topic.
“He called Jake last night, who said he’d pick him up this morning, Boss.” She walks to her desk and grabs a few message slips. “Couple of people left messages.”
He takes the messages from her and flips through them as he walks away.
“Bree, get hold of Joe Flynn. He left a message, see what he wants and tell him he can relax,” he orders, stopping halfway to his office.
Back in bossy mode, which is a hell of a lot different than the loving, attentive guy from last night and this morning.
I mock-salute him, which earns me a narrowing of his eyes before he turns on his heel and shuts himself inside his office. I head for the kitchen to grab a coffee before I tackle Flynn.
“Gosh, I’m getting all the warm fuzzies,” Lena comments sarcastically, having followed me. “How can you stand it?”
I snicker at her eye roll.
“There’s more to him than meets the eye,” I volunteer, wiggling my eyebrows.
“If you say so. I’d rather not know.”
She leans her shoulder against the doorpost as behind her Jake and Kai walk into the office. I lift a hand to try and warn her, but Lena’s on a roll.
“If you ask me, men’s attributes are highly overrated. You can get battery-operated replacements that don’t bark orders and always show results. I can hook you up.”
With that she turns, only to run face-first into the chest of a dumbstruck Kai. The man looks like he’s been hit with a Taser again. I squeeze behind them, clapping Kai on the shoulder in passing.
“Glad to see you up and about.”
I’m still chuckling at Lena’s mumbled apology, and hasty retreat to the reception area, when I sit down at my desk and pick up the phone.
“Flynn’s Fields.”
“Joe Flynn, please? It’s Bree Graves at PASS Security, I’m returning his call.”
“Just a moment, please. I’ll patch you through to him.”
I boot up my computer while I wait.
“Flynn.”
He sounds like he’s outside somewhere.
“Joe, it’s Bree at the PASS office. You called?”
“Oh. Yeah, I heard something about a shooting at your office yesterday. Is everyone okay?”
It doesn’t surprise me. The sheer number of emergency vehicles in our parking lot yesterday had been quick to draw local media. Dimi had dealt with them.
“We’re fine, thanks, and it looks like you can rest easy. Sarrazin was injured and is currently in the hospital under FBI custody.”
There’s a slight pause before he responds.
“Wow. I didn’t expect that. Good news, though. Did he say anything?”
I wave distractedly at Dimi sitting down at his desk, a big bakery box in front of him. I’m instantly hungry, having eaten only half of my breakfast. I forcefully turn away from the temptation and stare out the window, focusing my attention on the call.
“As far as I know he hasn’t. Last I heard he was still sedated after surgery, but even if he wasn’t, we’re not likely to get much out of him, he had a lawyer by his bedside.”
“I guess that was to be expected,” he comments. “So what happens now?”
“That’s up to the FBI. I assume there’s going to be an in-depth investigation of his involvement in a series of crimes that will likely include the damage done at your vineyard. I’m sure the feds will be in contact at some point.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for that. Guess I won’t need the extra security anymore.”
He makes a good point, but it’s not my call. I glance over at the closed door to Yanis’s office.
“I’m sure the boss will be in touch with you about that at some point,” I suggest. “Right now, he’s dealing with the aftermath of yesterday’s events, but I’ll tell him you brought it up. For today at least Shep should be there.”
We exchange some meaningless pleasantries before I end the call and turn to Dimi, who shoves the opened box of donuts in my face. I dive in with both hands. A girl’s gotta grab her fuel where she can get it.
“Yeah,” Yanis barks when I knock on his door five minutes later after scarfing down the treats.
He looks up and raises his eyebrows as I walk in.
“Save any for me?”
He waves a finger at my face and I quickly wipe the powdered sugar from my mouth.
“I think there’s a few left.”
Between the four guys in the office and myself, it doesn’t take much to kill off a dozen donuts. Lena doesn’t eat sugar, something I’ve never been able to understand.
“Better be,” he grumbles. “Did you talk to Flynn?”
“Yeah, he’d heard about yesterday.”
“Hard not to with those damn reporters monitoring their police scanners twenty-four seven. I’m sure it was all over the news this morning.”
“I guess. Anyway.” I take a seat in one of the visitor’s chairs across from him. “I mentioned Sarrazin is in FBI custody and that they’d likely be in touch with him at some point. He wanted to know about the extra security and I told him you’d be contacting him about that.”
“I’ll call this afternoon. I want to talk to Fillmore first, give he
r a heads-up first. Spoke to Aiken. They ran the plates on that van parked behind the building. Fake and VIN-number filed down. He says their lab can probably recover the number but it’s gonna take some time.”
“And Sarrazin?”
“Still sedated. He’s fighting some infection. His mother has arrived, although no sign of stepfather dearest.”
“Probably hiding in one of his mansions,” I observe with more than a hint of bitterness.
Guys like this are like eels in a bucket of snot; hard to grab hold of.
“Yeah, that was another reason Aiken called. His tech guy is scrambling to pull together any and all electronic evidence against Sarrazin and Albero——deeds, financials, phone records, the whole nine yards—before they have a chance to bury it. He’s requested our help, or more specifically Radar’s, to dig into the ownership of that mountain lodge Bill flagged. They need something solid before he can request a warrant.”
“I’ll go tell him. I can help, it’ll give me something to put my teeth into. I don’t want sit around twiddling my thumbs and waiting for something to happen.”
I get up from my chair and move to the door when Yanis calls me back.
“Bree…”
“Yeah?”
I turn and watch him round his desk, stalking toward me. When he’s close enough, his hand slips around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I have to tilt my head back to look at him. He promptly takes it as an invitation, slamming his mouth down on mine in a hard kiss that instantly fuels the fire that always seems to burn hot between us.
“Love you,” he growls when he finally lets me come up for air.
“Not that I don’t appreciate it…” I grin up at him, “…because I do, but where did that come from?”
He shrugs, kisses the tip of my nose, and lets me go.
“Well,” he starts when he’s seated behind his desk again. “I was hoping you could handle my parents when they show.”
My mouth falls open in disbelief.
“So that was to butter me up?”
I try to hang on to my snit but the deep rumble of his rare laugh melts it away.
“It was you who suggested next time to lead with that.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
