He's not wrong about that either…but we have to give it a shot anyway.
"Fuck," I groan, pissed that we can't pawn this off on someone else. There is no one else to call for backup on this. As pissed as some of the other guys on the team are about Remi being dirty, I can't ask them to help me hunt him down and kill him. They were his teammates, his friends. Which means it's going to be hours before we're finished and I can get back to my girl.
"Let's get this shit over with," I growl and stomp toward tent city.
Chapter Four
Mila
"Can I get you anything?" I ask Luke Santiago for the fifth or sixth time since Roman showed him in earlier this afternoon. I've never met him before, but I'm beginning to think all federal agents are giants. Luke is nearly as tall as Roman and just about as muscular. He's got caramel skin, dark hair, penetrating sage green eyes, and full lips. He's honestly gorgeous, though I won't be telling Roman that anytime soon. Luke is quiet and intense, but there's something wild in him, or maybe something dark. I'm not sure which it is, but I do know I wouldn't want to piss him off.
"I'm good, doll," he grunts from his spot on the couch, not even looking up from the television.
He doesn't talk much. I think he's said all of six sentences since he got here a few hours ago. Instead, he muttered a few words to Roman and then planted himself on the couch. His knee bounces up and down like he's agitated. I think he wants to be out there with Roman, looking for Remi Pledger. I don't know all the details, but I do know that Luke was on Lillian Riley's security detail with Remi. I'm guessing he's not very happy about what went down.
"How's Lillian?" I ask, trying to entice him into a conversation.
"Better."
"Is she still in the hospital?"
"Yeah."
I give up with a huff and slump down in my seat, staring at the television. He's watching soccer. At least I think it's soccer. I don't know very much about sports, but it's definitely not football because the guys on the field are dressed in shorts and ridiculously long socks instead of fifteen inches of pads and helmets. Both teams run back and forth across the field, chasing a white ball. It looks exhausting, but they don't even seem winded.
"Is this soccer?" I ask after a minute.
"Yeah."
"Who's playing?"
"Brazil and Italy."
"Oh." I watch as a guy in a yellow jersey kicks the ball halfway down the field. A guy in a blue jersey and another guy in a yellow one fight over it for a minute before the guy in the yellow manages to kick it to a teammate who sends it sailing back down the field. Both teams take of running after it again. "Do they run like this the whole game?"
"Yes," Luke says. His lips twitch like he's fighting a smile.
"Don't they get tired?"
"They train hard."
"I don't even run like that if something is chasing me," I mumble, more to myself than to him.
He chuckles quietly, his lips turning up into an actual smile this time. He has a dimple and, somehow, is even hotter when he smiles. He doesn't say anything, but his leg stops bouncing up and down.
"Holy shit," I mutter, leaning forward a bit when a guy in blue jumps up and hits the ball with his head to keep it from sailing into the goal set up at the end of the field. Half of the crowd goes wild while the other half boos loudly. "Do they use their heads like that often?"
"Yeah," Luke says and chuckles again.
"That's so cool," I breathe, my eyes locked on the screen as the two teams battle it out on the field.
"Brazil and Italy have had a rivalry for a long time," Luke explains a few minutes later, his voice gruff. When I glance over at him, he seems more relaxed. He's leaning back with one arm thrown over the back of the sofa. "Brazil usually wins."
"You're a Brazil fan?" I guess.
He shrugs a shoulder. "Old loyalties die hard. My family is from Brazil."
"Really?"
He nods.
"Were you born there?"
"No. My father is American. I was born here."
"Have you ever been to Brazil?" I ask, unable to stop myself. I've never been out of the United States. As soon as I graduated from high school, I headed to Berkley to get away from my father. And my life has been a little chaotic ever since I finished my degree. I've always wanted to travel though.
"I spent a few years in Brazil as a kid. We moved back to California after my mother was killed."
"I'm so sorry," I whisper.
"It was a long time ago." He avoids my gaze, his jaw clenching. I don't think he wants to talk about what happened to his mom, so I don't ask. It's not really my business anyway.
We watch the game in silence for a few minutes before I feel compelled to speak again. "I'm sorry you're stuck babysitting me. I know it's probably not how you wanted to spend your day."
"I have four little sisters," he says, turning those pretty eyes on me. The corners of his lips tilt upward, his dimple appearing again. "I'm used to babysitting. Besides, I owe Roman."
"How so?"
Something dark swirls through his expression. The humor in his eyes disappears. So does his smile. He looks angry again, like he's a caged animal ready to tear something apart. "He could have had Finn kick me off the taskforce, but he didn't."
"You mean after Remi kidnapped Lillian?" I ask.
He jerks his chin in a nod.
"That wasn't your fault," I whisper, sympathy rushing through me. I think he blames himself, even though he shouldn't. He didn't know Remi was dirty. No one did. Sometimes, people fool you. God knows, I spent two years of my life with a man I thought I could trust, only to find him screwing my boss promptly after moving me in with him. "You didn't know Remi was evil."
"I should have," Luke mutters, jerking his gaze away from me. His jaw pulses where he clenches it tightly.
I open my mouth to say something and then snap it closed again. I think Luke knows a little bit too much about evil people. I desperately want to ask what happened to his mom, because I have a feeling that's what the look on his face is all about, but I really don't want to piss him off. Roman trusts him…and Roman doesn't trust many people. I don't want to alienate Luke or cause any tension between the two of them.
We both turn back to the game, watching in silence as Brazil and Italy race back and forth across the field. I must doze off because the next thing I know, the baby is doing a dance on my bladder. I jerk upright and then struggle to my feet, trying not to wet myself.
"Are you all right?" Luke asks from his spot on the couch, his voice soft.
"Fine," I mutter and then hurry down the hall, waddling with my legs squeezed together. I plop down to take care of business just in time to avoid peeing on myself. "You gotta stay off my bladder, ladybug."
The baby kicks me, which I guess is her way of telling me to suck it up. But seriously though. No one ever tells you that you're probably going to pee yourself a lot when you're pregnant, but you do. The baby jumps on your bladder and it's all over with.
As I'm finishing up, my phone rings.
"Do you want me to get that?" Luke calls.
"Yes, please." I wash my hands quickly and then head back to the living room.
Luke's standing beside the chaise I was sitting in, my phone to his ear. He cuts his eyes in my direction. "I'll tell her," he mutters. "Nah, we're good, man. Watching soccer." He pauses for a minute and then chuckles.
"Roman?"
Luke nods. "She seems into it."
"It's interesting," I mumble. Roman isn't big on sports. He watches hockey sometimes, but it's too busy for me. And violent. Don't get me wrong, it's kind of hot, but I can't keep up with the little puck they shoot back and forth across the ice. Trying to figure out where it's at gives me a headache.
Luke chuckles again and then holds the phone out to me.
"Hi," I whisper to Roman.
"He likes you," Roman says.
"Yeah?"
"Luke doesn't like most people."
/> "Oh." I glance up to find Luke's eyes glued to the television again. He seems more at ease than he did when he first got here. I'm not sure if that's because of me or what, but I'm glad he isn't still stressing out about being back here again after everything that happened with Lillian.
"Is he being nice to you?" Roman demands, the possessive growl in his voice sending a thrill through me.
"Yes," I whisper, taking a few steps into the kitchen for privacy. "Everything is going fine. How's it going there?"
"It may take a little longer than I thought to deal with this."
"I'm sorry you have to work today, but I'll be okay here."
Roman sighs, sending static crackling down the line. "I miss you already."
"I miss you too." My stomach rumbles so I shuffle to the fridge and pull it open. My eyebrows climb when I see the amount of fruit and vegetables inside. "I guess ballerinas have to eat healthy."
"Hmm?"
"There's more green stuff in the fridge than I've eaten in the last year," I mumble. I'm more of a chocolate and wine kind of girl. Eating healthy is a pain. When I first found out I was pregnant, I tried to eat better for the baby, but all I really wanted was a burger and cheese fries. Roman eventually got tired of me trying to shove veggies down my throat and picked me up and put me in his truck, telling me we were going to get burgers and the doctor could kiss his ass if he didn't like it.
God, I love him.
Roman chuckles softly. "I haven't had time to grocery shop, baby. Order what you want and have it delivered. We'll go to the store tomorrow to stock the fridge with all your favorites."
"Any idea when you'll be home?" I ask, suddenly turned on and desperate to climb his body and have my filthy way with him. Something about the way he spoils me like doing so is his favorite thing in the world turns me on. I squeeze my thighs together and whimper.
"Fuck," Roman growls in my ear. "You can't make that sound when you're with another man, Mila. I'll fucking murder Luke if he hears you moaning like you need me inside you."
"I do need you inside me," I whisper, practically climbing into the fridge to keep Luke from hearing me, because Roman really will lose his mind if Luke hears.
"Fuck," Roman says again. "If you were alone, I'd have you coming all over your fingers for me."
"Roman," I groan, my nipples going hard and wetness trickling between my thighs.
"I want you wet and ready for me when I get home, Mila," he orders me, his voice a rough rasp.
"When?"
"Don't know." He huffs like he's frustrated. "Kincaid and I are chasing down a lead in Skid Row. I'll be home after that."
"Okay," I say, trying to keep the pout out of my voice. I don't want to make him feel badly for having to run off to work. His job is important. I don't want him to feel like he has to choose between it and me, especially now that we're finally in the same city again. "I love you."
"I love you too, baby. So fucking much."
"Christ, baby," Roman growls against my clit, sending vibrations through me. "You're so fucking wet."
"I know!" I cry, lifting my hips in an attempt to get closer to his mouth. My entire body is on fire, burning red hot for more of the sensations shooting through me. I was wet all day, dying for him to come home and ease the ache.
He grasps my hips in his hands and drags me closer to his mouth. I moan as he digs his fingers into my ass and attacks my pussy like he's starved for it. His tongue flicks against my clit before he thrusts it inside me.
A scream rips from my lips as an orgasm takes over my body, unmaking me. Stars erupt behind my eyelids, exploding again and again. I buck and writhe, gibberish flowing from my lips.
Roman growls between my legs, not letting up until I'm begging for mercy.
"I want that mouth," he says, wiping my juices from his face with the back of his hand and then climbing to his feet. He's shirtless and so damn sexy with all that olive skin and his bold tattoos on display.
I moan loudly as the muscles in his arms and chest contract and roll with his movements.
Roman grins, his blue eyes blazing with wicked intent as they rake over me. "You want me in that hot little mouth too, don't you?"
I nod, the motion tugging at the sheet beneath me. I love having him in my mouth. "Please," I whimper, not above begging for what I want. "I need it."
"Fuck." His hot gaze rakes slowly down my body. He catches his lip between his teeth and tugs the button of his jeans free. "You're so fucking sexy begging for my cock, Mila."
I press my legs together as his gravelly voice sends another flood of arousal between my legs. He slides his zipper down, his cock springing free.
"Roman, please," I beg, practically sobbing in frustration as he takes his time pulling his jeans off. I swear he's going slowly just to torture me. Now that I've thought about him sliding between my lips, I can't unthink it. I need it. Need him.
"I love that look on your face," he mutters, wrapping one big hand around his cock. He strokes himself in rough pulls as he stalks toward me and then stops just out of my reach. The broad head of his cock is red and angry, just begging for my mouth, but he doesn't give it to me. He teases me instead, working his fist up and down his length.
I growl in frustration and slide one hand down my body to strum against my clit.
Heat flares in his eyes, my name rumbling from his lips like thunder rolling across the sky. His control snaps when I moan his name. He closes the short distance between us, the head of his cock brushing against my lips.
I dart my tongue out and flick it against the slit, collecting the bead of pre-cum welling there. His taste hits my system like a drug. I instantly want more.
"Christ," he growls, his head kicking back as I take him deep.
Even after all this time, his sheer size overwhelms me as he stands over me, rocking his hips in greedy pulses. He's massive and hard everywhere, like he was chiseled from stone. My mouth stretches around his girth, my eyes watering. I tilt my head to take more.
"Goddammit," he growls when I gag. One hand flies to my hair like he's trying to stop me, but we both know he gets off on feeling my throat constrict around him. We both do. There's something so damn hot about being so full of him I can't take any more. It sends a bolt of white-hot lust through me.
I moan around his length, fighting against his hold in an attempt to take him deeper. My fingers move more quickly against my clit. I lift my free hand and rake my nails down his abs.
He makes a wild sound above me, his hand tightening in my hair for a brief moment before he pulls away. I cry out, but before I can even move, he's flipping me to my hands and knees. His hand comes down across my right ass cheek.
"Roman!" I rock forward as pleasure and pain blast through me in tandem.
His big hand comes down on my other cheek with a crack of sound.
I sob his name, clawing at the sheets.
"So fucking sexy," he mutters and then slams himself inside me.
I cry out his name again, writhing in pleasure as he yanks me back against him, seaming our bodies together. He holds me still and rocks his hips, grinding his big body against mine.
"Always trying to make me lose control," he says, leaning over me until his mouth lands against my ear. His teeth sink into my lobe before he releases it. "You like it when I'm rough with you."
"Yes!"
"Then fuck me back, Mila," he growls, "or I'm going to break that sexy little body in half."
I sob his name when he releases my hips, allowing me to move. Giving him what he wants…what he demands…I rock forward before slamming myself back against him. His balls slap against me, pulling a grunt from him.
That's all the encouragement I need to do it again and again, setting a grueling pace. Every time I slam myself backwards, his cock bumps against my cervix. I cry out over and over, so far gone all I can think about is the pleasure blasting through me in powerful waves.
It's been so long since he was this rough and wild with m
e. The bigger my belly grows, the sweeter he becomes. I love when he's soft and gentle…but I love this dominant, rough side of him too. I need both.
He wraps my hair up in his fist, pulling my head back until our gazes collide. The devotion blazing in his stormy blue eyes steals my breath.
"We're never staying apart again," he pants.
I come with a scream, my body clamping down on him. Pleasure steals my sight, my breath…everything. It rips me apart, flinging me skyward.
"Mila!" he roars, his voice breaking through the fog to send me higher. His fingers dig into my hip as he comes too, filling me full of him. "I love you."
I moan his name and collapse forward, unable to hold myself up. He grabs me at the last minute and flips me over so I don't land on my belly. He falls to the bed beside me a moment later, one hand splayed protectively over my stomach.
We stay just like that as we both come down and the sweat cools on our bodies.
"You okay?" he asks when he can speak again, dragging me closer to him. He presses adoring kisses into my skin, cuddling me close. His legs tangle up with mine and one arm goes beneath my head, cradling me.
"Perfect," I murmur, my eyes too heavy to open. I still feel a little like I'm floating in bliss. With his arms around me, I always feel like I'm in heaven. Being with him is my happy place. "Sleepy."
He chuckles, rubbing my belly. "I like wearing you out."
"Me too," I mumble.
The baby kicks, her little foot landing right where his palm glides over my skin. He pauses, leaving his hand right where it's at, but she doesn't kick him again.
"You sure I didn't hurt you or the baby?" he asks a second later, worry in his voice.
"You didn't hurt us, baby," I promise, turning my face into his arm to hide my smile. It's sweet how worried he is about us, but he should know by now that we're both warriors. With him watching over us, nothing is going to hurt us or take us from him. It wouldn't dare.
As soon as the word baby leaves my lips, his entire body relaxes. "I love that," he mumbles, holding me a little tighter. His big body curls around mine. "It's so goddamn sweet."
Desire Me (Her Best Friend's Father Book 4) Page 6
