“Slowly, Anya, slowly. Don’t forget about your injury.”
“To hell with my injury. I want you to kiss me…I want you to kiss me the way you would if I were your lover.” Her voice was husky, and he wondered if she knew what she was actually saying. What the hell had Phantom given her?
But he was never one to turn down a request. Especially not one from a beautiful woman who made him feel things he had thought were long dead within him.
Gently, he slid his hand underneath her head, carefully avoiding the large bump at the very back, and cradled it as he returned to her lips, slanting his mouth over hers and pressing his lips forcefully against hers. She sighed contentedly, which parted her mouth for his tongue to taste her lips thoroughly, then slowly probe inside, darting in and out. It was his turn to moan in satisfaction when her tongue began to dance with his, meeting every thrust and caressing it lightly, before tangling with it once again. When she lightly sucked on his tongue, he knew his eyes crossed behind his closed eyelids, and he was hard in an instant.
One thing he had obviously gotten wrong was her experience with men. She kissed him back with enthusiasm, and he wanted nothing more than to continue. She had to know what she was doing to him.
Slowly, he pulled back from her, deliberately calming his breathing as he looked down at her. There was a soft smile on her face and her eyes were glazed. “Thank you,” she said, her sexy, raw voice only making him harder.
He fought the chuckle that bubbled right beneath the surface. He had never had a woman thank him for a kiss. Being with her felt too damn right. Which meant it was probably a thousand ways wrong.
Chapter 8
The sound of knocking at the door woke him from a deep, dreamless slumber. For a moment, he didn’t want to move. Somehow, during the early morning hours, he had let Anya convince him to lie down with her to relax as they talked about the ranch and her vet clinic. She had been awake for nearly thirty minutes, and he knew she needed her sleep. But she had wanted to talk, and he had been more than happy to listen. But when he saw the exhaustion pulling hard at her, he had encouraged her to lie down and try to rest.
How she had convinced him to join her, he couldn’t remember. He was fairly certain it had something to do with her shimmying out of her boots and jeans, and curling under the covers, only to throw her shirt out after more movements under the blanket. She had laughed at the expression on his face, and he’d wondered again what kind of medication Phantom had given her.
Now, he lay with her, his back to the door, spooning her sweet body up against his. She made a sound of protest as he carefully moved away from her, not giving his body a chance to react to the feeling of her half-naked body nestled in his arms. The chill of the room greeted him as he pushed out from under the blanket, and he remembered taking his shirt off before sliding into bed with the woman who was quickly becoming the biggest temptation he’d ever faced.
Irritated that his time with her had been interrupted, he opened the door only partway, frowning. Phantom stood there, and he slowly took in Stryker’s appearance. “Well, I suppose you chose to help her fall asleep,” he drawled, and Stryker felt like punching him.
“That’s not what happened,” he said, feeling the need to defend Anya’s virtue.
Phantom shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss. Admiral Haslett is on the line in the conference room. Apparently he tried calling you first but couldn’t get through. Buzz patched him through but he’s not saying much until you join us.” The look in Phantom’s eyes told Stryker all he needed to know. Playtime was over. It was time for them to face their first mission.
“We have Anya here,” Stryker said in a hushed voice.
“She’s asleep, isn’t she? Those meds I gave her were bound to kick in at some point. You didn’t keep her awake too long, did you?”
“No. And nothing happened between us. We talked for a little while, and then she, well, she just fell asleep.”
“Good. She’ll still be asleep long enough for the debrief.” Phantom turned and walked away as Stryker went to grab his shirt. He found it at the foot of the bed and shrugged it on, all the while watching Anya sleep. She had been in a deep sleep as he had held her, but now she seemed restless, moving beneath the covers, her face contorting with emotions he couldn’t decipher, as well as pain. He wondered if she still had nightmares about the car accident she was in.
He went to the bed and leaned over her, catching her chin lightly with his fingers and pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “Rest, bella,” he whispered. When he pulled back, her eyes opened slowly, and he froze, transfixed by her gaze.
“Stryker,” she whispered. She said only his name. But there was so much more in the way she said it. There was longing, and need, and a promise of things he thought he was only imagining she could give him.
“I’ll be gone for a few minutes. You need to sleep now. You’re exhausted. Let your body heal.”
“Stay with me,” she murmured. “I don’t have nightmares when you hold me.”
It was as if she had punched him in the gut, and he drew in a deep breath. He suddenly realized he hadn’t had his nightmares as he had slept with her either. How many years had it been since he had slept without nightmares? Too many to count.
“I’ll be back with you soon. Sleep.” He pressed another soft kiss against her mouth, and she let her tongue taste his lower lip. He was going to have to take another cold shower before he crawled into bed with her again.
And suddenly he paid attention to what he was really thinking. He had no doubt he would climb back into bed with her. It was as if it were a foregone conclusion. She was like a balm to his wounded soul. And he couldn’t get enough of her.
He pulled back from her and finished buttoning his shirt. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
He quickly walked out of the room, combing his hands through his short hair, making an attempt to look at least partially groomed in front of his team so early in the morning.
Once he reached the second floor, he heard the muted sounds of the men talking, and Haslett’s voice on the speakerphone. He hoped Haslett wouldn’t give him a hard time. He had silenced his phone to make sure nothing disturbed him and Anya. Of course, it would be the one time he ever did such a thing that the admiral would try to call him.
“Good morning, Admiral Haslett,” Stryker said, taking his seat at the head of the conference table. “I apologize for the delay.”
“I understand from Phantom you had a bit of an adventure last night. How’s the veterinarian?”
Stryker sighed with relief. Haslett understood and wasn’t going to berate him. At least not in front of his team. “She’s resting. Phantom said she should be fine.”
“Good. Glad to hear you’re getting out there and mingling with people. You never know when an important piece of intel will fall into your lap.” Haslett paused for a few moments before continuing. “Which brings me to the reason for this morning’s call. We’ve identified a suspect leading a drug cartel out of Nuevo Laredo who may be involved in the terrorist operations we’re trying to dismantle.”
“Doesn’t Mexico already have an aggressive task force to take down drug cartels?” Snap asked.
“Yes. But this is about more than drugs. They are utilizing encrypted data unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Your mission will be not only to take down this cartel, but also to capture their leader, Benicio Davila. Ideally, we’d also like you to find their computer whiz and force him to explain his code to us. If we can’t get him, we need the next best thing—a download from one of their main servers.”
“Won’t those files be encrypted as well?” Buzz asked, frowning at the speakerphone.
“That’s where you come in, Buzz. We need you to crack this code.”
“I take it this isn’t going to be the usual drop in, extract people and information, and disappear all in one night?” P
hantom asked.
“No. You’ll go in undercover and become part of the cartel. All the information you need is uploaded to your secure server. Learn your cover stories inside and out. Stryker, Buzz, Phantom—you’re headed for Mexico.”
* * *
Benicio stared at the images in front of him. “This is the man you think I need to be worried about? He’s a fucking vaquero kissing a girl. Show me maps. Show me guns. Show me proof this man is worth my time.”
“The photographer I hired couldn’t get into the house. But it is odd that a group of men all of a sudden purchase this ranch. Look at the photos of the house. It looks more like a fortress than a home. Whoever they are, they don’t want anyone to know what they’re up to.”
“Or they’re simply private men. Had that thought crossed your mind? Your job is to bring me information of value. And right now, you’re wasting my time. Not to mention I had to come all the way out here to meet with you. Puto, people come to me, not the other way around.”
“Don’t insult me. You won’t like the outcome.”
“Is that a threat? You forget that you work for me, David. You do what I bid you to do. And if I choose to kill you, it won’t be hard to replace you.”
David snorted and adjusted the black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. “We both know I report to your boss. If you kill me, you’ve essentially signed your own death warrant.”
Benicio’s lip curled in anger and frustration. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and a drop slid down his back. It was hot in this part of Mexico. And David had insisted on meeting outside. At least they were in the shade. But that didn’t help much.
David, however, looked cool and comfortable. He wore a lightweight linen shirt and cargo shorts, something Benicio frowned upon. If they were to have a business meeting, he needed to dress like a businessman. But that was the problem with David. He thought he was untouchable. He wasn’t.
“Send his picture out to all our contacts so they are aware of him. If anyone sees him in Mexico, I want him alive. I want to know exactly who he is and who he’s working for. I want information, something you clearly can’t provide me with.”
David’s lips curled into a slight smile. “Sure thing. I’ll be sure to keep our boss informed of what we’re doing.”
He wanted to kill him right then and there. It would be simple enough. David surrounded himself with technology and computers. He didn’t have guards or protection. A single round to the heart, or between the eyes, and it would all be over. Or, even better, he could slash his throat and watch him bleed out, watch the life leave his eyes slowly.
David’s smile broadened. “I caution you with your next actions,” he said softly. He held up his hand, and there was a small device in his grasp. “There are twenty guns trained on you and your men. You make a single move toward me, or toward your gun, and all I have to do is flip the switch. You’ll all be dead. Or wishing you were.”
Fuck! He had underestimated the bastard. He should have realized the man would have a way to stop him, even without bodyguards. He stood slowly, forcing a smile to his face. “I’ll take the pictures. What about the photographer? Can he provide us with any additional information?”
“No. Unfortunately, the photographer became greedy when I asked for their location and other details, so he had to be…removed.”
“At least that’s one problem out of the way. I’ll have my men start searching.” He forced a smile and nodded at David. “Until we meet again, amigo,” he growled.
Benicio retreated with his men to the air-conditioned luxury of his car and they drove away. His right hand man, Hector, watched him closely. “What do you want to do with these pictures?”
“We may not know exactly where they are, but our contact in the U.S. should. Send them to him. He’ll know how to scare them if they are indeed a threat to us.”
He stared out the window and clenched his fists together, trying to control his temper. Benicio would kill David one day. Just not today.
Chapter 9
The sound of Stryker entering the room again brought Anya out of her restless slumber. Her head was pounding and her mind felt fuzzy. And she was more than a little embarrassed. She vaguely remembered wiggling out of her clothes and then diving under the covers. And then she remembered him sliding into the bed with her at her request, and the feel of his warm skin against hers had made her want so much more, but sleep had tugged her down.
She heard the rustle of clothing, then felt the dip of the bed as he got in under the covers and moved toward her. “Still not able to sleep?” His voice rumbled near her ear and his warm, calloused hand wrapped around her stomach, pulling her back against his bare chest.
Good grief. The man is built like a Greek god. She could feel the ripple of his muscles as he moved to place a kiss right behind her ear. She had never felt more like a woman, more desirable, more cherished. She wanted to touch him, to see him, and to know if she made him feel the same things he made her feel.
Slowly, she turned within his embrace, then winced as her swollen head made contact with the pillow. He gently maneuvered her so she was lying on her side, and he leaned over her, concern on his face. “Is the pain really bad? I can get Phantom…”
“No, no, I’ll be fine.” She stared up into his face, studying his dark eyes, his high cheekbones, and his square jaw. There was a small scar about an inch long that ran along his jawline, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to reach up and trace it with her fingers, feeling the bristle of his whiskers. “Stryker…I want you to know, I’m not the type of woman to hop naked in bed with a man. I don’t know what came over me last night. I’ve never… I don’t know why I stripped in front of you like that, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
His lips twitched. “It was the medication Phantom gave you. And you could never make me feel uncomfortable. Watching you wiggle out of your jeans was hotter than hell.”
“Oh.” Anya felt the heat of a blush creeping up her face. “Having you hold me…feeling you against my skin…” She struggled to find the right words to say.
“It feels incredible,” he said softly, finding the words she was having such a hard time saying.
Relief washed over her. He felt the same way she did. What they had was something unique, something special that she had never felt before. Knowing he was feeling the same eased her concerns and lowered her inhibitions. She pulled his head down toward hers, and she kissed his cheeks until she was able to lower her lips to the scar along his jaw. She kissed it tenderly, then tentatively ran her tongue along the scar, tasting the salty, earthy flavor of him.
A sound rumbled deep in his chest. “Remember what I said about playing with fire.” His voice was deep, husky, and filled with a promise she wanted fulfilled.
“You already make me burn,” she whispered, her eyes connecting with his, and she nearly gasped at the intensity of desire she saw. He wanted her. He wanted her the way a man was supposed to crave a woman, and her heart, already pounding heavily, began to beat faster.
“Anya,” he groaned, before dropping his head and pressing his lips to hers, claiming her mouth in a way that made her gasp in surprise and pleasure. Her small gasp gave him the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth and she slid hers against it, and they both moaned as they began a rhythm that mimicked what they wished their bodies were doing.
His hand rubbed her stomach lightly, and with each circle his fingers got closer and closer to her breasts. She arched her back, letting him know what she desired as his thumb rubbed up against the underside of her breasts.
He pulled back from her, his breathing ragged. “Anya, you don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered, then peeled back the covers so he could view her body, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. But she forced herself to relax, knowing she was safe with Stryker. She didn’t know how she could be so certain, but somethi
ng told her he would always be gentle with her.
His fingers slid around her back and plucked at the hooks on her plain bra. She suddenly wished she had something sexy to wear for him. But her undergarments were like her, simple and practical. He tossed her bra across the room and then slid his thumb down and hooked it in her underwear. She lifted her hips to help him free her of the garment, hoping he didn’t pay any attention to how utilitarian they were. Finally, she was naked before him.
Stryker drew in his breath and let it back out slowly, his heated gaze taking in every inch of her body. She was beginning to wonder if he found her appealing or not, when his gaze finally came back up to meet hers. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, and his hand returned to her waist as his lips molded to hers, then traveled down her jaw and to her neck. She arched her neck to give him easier access, and a thousand butterflies settled in her stomach as his teeth nipped at her lightly.
She ran her hands anxiously through his thick hair, then, emboldened by his kisses, she let her fingers trail down to his thick, broad shoulders. She squeezed and massaged his tight, tense muscles, and she felt them slowly begin to relax under her ministrations. Then she slid her hands farther down and massaged his pecs. His sheer power seemed overwhelming.
“Anya,” he moaned, when her fingers found his nipples and began to explore them. His lips and teeth were teasing the flesh of her collarbone, and she squirmed, desiring something more, but she didn’t know what. He drew in a sharp breath when her fingers lightly plucked at his stiff nipples, and she was rewarded by his hands working back up to her breasts.
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