by Pam Godwin
Bending over his back, she brought her hands around him, caressing his sculpted chest, dragging up the shirt, and exposing all that glorious muscle.
He moaned as she touched him. He slumped down in the chair as she reached lower, slipping her hand into the V of his open fly. Soft hair, swollen root, he was so hard, so long and thick. It took some adjusting and a lift of his hips to wrangle him free.
A muffled cry sounded from the couch, drawing her gaze to the tears leaking down Mason’s cheeks. He was hurting. The emotional sort of suffering that stabbed deep.
She didn’t rejoice in that. Didn’t torment him with a smile. She might’ve been vindictive, but she wasn’t inhumane.
Straightening, she walked around the chair, eyes locked on her man. He sprawled with a casual confidence that watered her mouth and soaked her panties.
His cock lay on his thigh, twitching as his golden stare violated every inch of her body.
She climbed onto his lap.
He did the rest, his hands roaming, pulling her close, and tugging aside the crotch of her panties. His mask prevented kissing, but his eye contact sealed their intimacy. He watched her as he guided himself into her body. He didn’t look away as she gripped his corded neck and struggled for breath. He held her gaze as he lanced into her and broke into a hungry rhythm.
She was on top, but he controlled everything. The speed, the thrust, the tempo of her pulse. He owned her, dominated her, and brought her screaming and writhing into blissful completion.
With his forehead against hers, he grunted into her cheek, exploding, spilling himself into her with a deep, rumbling growl.
Mason was full-on sobbing behind her.
As she started to lift, Tommy palmed her backside, holding her to him.
“Thank you,” he whispered, too low for Mason’s ears.
His jealous-possessive nature had needed that bit of revenge. She’d needed it, too. For entirely different reasons.
Mason wouldn’t bother her anymore, and he would think twice before cheating on another woman.
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
She rose from his lap and quickly dressed while Tommy strode toward a weeping Mason, his wet cock hanging out of his zipper.
With a grip on Mason’s hair, Tommy shoved him toward his semi-hard dick. “Lick me clean.”
She froze, and Mason went wild.
“Nah, I’m just playing.” His laughter sobered into cruel authority. “You will never taste heaven again.”
Her lungs released a sigh.
She was done here. No more torment.
Luke and Van stepped forward, guns trained as Tommy cut Mason free from the rope.
“You won’t talk about this.” Tommy tossed Mason’s clothes to him. “You hired us after all.”
Free of the rope, Mason yanked out the gag and scrambled to pull on his pants. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t talk. Not a word. If we catch wind of you blabbering about what you witnessed here, we will find you. And we will kill you.”
Half-dressed, Mason gathered the rest of his things and backed toward the door. His tear-soaked eyes jerked from the rifles to her, his expression ugly with accusation.
“Don’t send any more men to watch me.” She stepped beside Tommy and placed her hand and her cheek against his muscled arm. “I’m keeping this one.”
Tommy let Mason go. He stood at the door and watched her ex sprint toward his car and speed away. Van and Luke grabbed her bags and carried them outside.
“You knew Mason was coming.” She touched Tommy’s tense back.
“We’ll be watching him for a while.” He turned and searched her face. “You’re not running.”
“If you’re trying to scare me, you’ll have to try harder.”
He grinned, blinding her with his gorgeous sex appeal. “We’re going to war with an unknown enemy from Cole’s world. Does that scare you?”
In a few minutes, they would drive to Tommy’s property in the desert. There, Cole would activate the GSM bug he’d removed from her house and lure in the threat. The team would be in position. They would be ready.
“Yep.” She shivered with excitement and fear.
Fear was good. It affirmed she was alive.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. “It’s going to be complicated.”
“Then you definitely need me there.”
“To dominate it?” He kissed her, lingering, controlling her breaths.
“We’ll dominate together.”
———————————————
The DELIVER series concludes with COMPLICATE (#9)
Cole’s story.
But it’s not his beginning.
The story of Cole, Danni, and Trace starts in the TANGLED LIES trilogy.
You don’t have to read TANGLED LIES, but if you want to read it, do so before reading COMPLICATE.
ONE IS A PROMISE (#1) is free: CLICK HERE
Southern Missouri
Seven years ago
Something was missing.
Something significant. Troubling.
Cole Hartman lowered his head to his hands, wrestling with the insidious sense of foreboding. Over the last seven months, it emerged without symptoms, invading gradually, subtly, but with detrimental effects.
Dread was eating him alive.
He sat on the floor in the armory of his safe house, his back to the wall, knees bent, and stomach clenched in knots. Down the hall, his beautiful, free-spirited dancer was likely practicing her choreographic sequences of the biggest production in the history of wedding dances.
For as long as he’d known Danni, she’d fantasized about her wedding dance.
Not the dress.
The dance.
Hers and his. Their first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Hartman.
Over the past few months, she’d been teaching him the steps. Dancing was her thing, not his, but he didn’t mind learning. Hell, rubbing up against her hot little body would never be a hardship. He fucking loved her. So goddamn much it hurt.
But something was missing.
Four years ago, he’d left her to complete a one-year, undercover assignment overseas. They’d only been together for ten months at the time. He shouldn’t have gone. He didn’t know that year would turn into several more.
Without her knowledge, he’d left her under the protection of his best friend, Trace Savoy. In doing so, he’d inadvertently fucked his fate and shoved his entire world into Trace’s arms.
After botching the mission, faking his death, losing Danni to his best friend, and finally, finally winning her back, he’d crawled out of hell, alive and victorious.
He’d chosen his job over her, and in the end, she chose him over all else.
His decisions had destroyed her life, and in return, she gave him her heart. Again.
The shattered pieces of his miserable existence had been put back together. He didn’t deserve her, but when he’d returned from the dead, he put every ounce of life into earning her forgiveness.
He’d fought countless battles through his clandestine career, but seven months ago, he won the only war that mattered.
He won back his dancer.
Fair and square.
She let Trace go.
She chose me.
But something was missing.
The depressing lyrics of James Bay’s Let It Go trickled through the armory. Racks of guns covered one wall, the rest occupied by file cabinets, desks, computers, phones, and high-tech gear. The kind of equipment that didn’t exist outside of his classified unit.
In the corner, her wedding gown hung on a hook. It didn’t belong in here. Not in a room crammed with weapons, secrets, and deception.
When he’d taken the dress during their separation, he wanted it in a safe place. He longed to see her wear it as she walked down the aisle, toward him, toward their future together.
Nothing stood in their way now. She’d chosen him. Agreed to marry him. Everyt
hing was right in the world.
Except it wasn’t.
The soft tread of footsteps approached from the hallway and paused on the threshold.
His pulse quickened as it always did when she was near. His entire being pulled toward her as she entered the room. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, his senses alert, tracking her graceful movements as she floated past his shadowed position on the floor near the door.
She took in the space, lingering on the wall of firearms. This was her first glimpse behind the armory door. He always kept the room locked. Kept her out. She shouldn’t be here. Her spirit was too bright, too gentle amid the guns and dangerous evidence of his business.
As if realizing that, she quickly turned back to the door and paused, startled, her gaze fastened on him. Then she smiled.
The first smile she’d ever given him had been life-altering. She’d stepped in front of his motorcycle at the crack of dawn, wearing almost nothing. Except her smile. It’d been so big and full of life, it softened his insides, turned his brain to butter, and made him weak.
He didn’t regret a second of it.
No man with a pulse could regret her. Danni Angelo was a blonde bombshell with a compassionate soul. Beautiful inside and out.
Grey eyes, fair complexion, she glowed with light and stunning sensuality. Her lithe limbs and athletic physique befit her occupation as a professional dancer. But it was her smile that stole the show. And broke hearts. His heart, specifically.
She’d broken him as much as he’d broken her. Crushed. Mended. And soon to be demolished again. He felt it looming—the pain, the devastation, the inevitability of forever’s antonym.
Never was coming for him.
Because something was missing.
It was missing in the smile she wore now. Her bowed lips curved like they always had. Her eyes illuminated with angelic beauty. But it wasn’t a Danni smile. Not the one that had railroaded him the day they met. Definitely not the one that tilted the universe and knocked him off his feet.
It lacked the energy that made his heart rev. It didn’t crackle the air and charge his blood. It was low on sunshine, devoid of music, and desperately in need of life.
Her smile cried out for happiness.
There was no contentment in it. No tranquility. No delirium. Had she been without those things all along?
They’d been inseparable for months, staying here at his lakefront estate, reconnecting, dancing, fucking, focusing on their relationship, and planning their future. They were wrapped up together. On top of the world.
But no amount of planning or intimacy could erase the gaping hole in her heart.
The hole that had been left by another man.
He didn’t want to notice it. Didn’t want to think about it, talk about it, or do anything to make it real. So he’d ignored it. For seven months, he pretended there wasn’t something missing.
They were in love and finally back together, all the while pretending she didn’t still love Trace.
It was a point of contention that couldn’t be resolved with words or time. Ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. He knew that. They both knew.
It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t asked for this. He and Trace had wedged her into a miserable love triangle. Then they’d forced her into a decision.
Choose.
So she had.
Her decision ruined Trace, sentencing him to a life without her.
Her decision left a guilt-ridden hole in her heart.
Her decision yielded only one winner, and he couldn’t rejoice in that. But if he was strong enough, he could fix it.
She’d lost him once, and yeah, it had wrecked her. But she’d found happiness again. In his absence, she’d fallen in love again.
The same couldn’t be said this time around. She was surviving without Trace, but she wasn’t living.
This had everything to do with who she was, not who she chose. The woman he’d shared space with for the last seven months wasn’t the Danni he knew.
She’d lost her luster, her vivacity, her effervescent rhythm. His carefree dancer was miserable.
Because love wasn’t a choice.
He dangled his arms over his bent knees and leaned his head back against the wall, watching her, memorizing her delicate features, while slowly, painfully, preparing for a decision that would decimate him on a fundamental level.
“I thought you retired.” She glanced at the tables of charging phones and running laptops. “What is this?”
“I am retired. I only come in here to check my messages.” He gave the devices a thoughtful look. “I get a lot of job offers.”
“Job offers?” She closed the distance and lowered to the floor beside him, mirroring his pose. “What kind of jobs?”
“The kind that paid for this house. The dangerous kind that send me out of the country for months. Sometimes years.”
He missed the work, the challenge in it. The danger. But he gave it all up for her and would gladly continue to do so…if she was happy.
She tensed. “Are you considering—?”
“I would never consider a job away from you.” He gathered her beneath his arm and breathed in the unique Nag Champa scent of her hair.
Curling up against his side, she rested her head on his shoulder and hummed. Her fingers stroked his arm. Her silence tried to invoke comfort. All of it felt forced, but not. Tense, but also tender. She was straining for the happiness they’d once shared. And failing to grab hold of it.
Let It Go played again, strumming the air with the glaring truth. The lyrics bemoaned a relationship that was destined to end, no matter how badly two people held on. He’d selected it without thinking, his subconscious sending him a message.
“This song is so sad.” She ran a finger along the line of his rigid jaw, unable to coax him to relax. “Why are you listening to it?”
“I know what you’re doing,” he murmured, his insides sick with unease.
She dropped her hand.
“You’re trying so hard to make this work.” His voice cracked. “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”
She flinched. “No—”
“He’s not physically here, but he’s here nonetheless, always between us.” He met her eyes with a hard stare. “You’re settling.”
“Damn right, I’m settling.” She fisted her hands. “I’m settling into a beautiful life with a man who takes my breath away. I chose you, Cole. I’m with you.”
“Someone told me once that love isn’t a choice.”
Christ, this hurt. Unlike the bullet that had struck his chest, Danni would leave a lasting, open wound.
“Why do you think I wanted you to wait six months?” He touched her trembling fingers, caressing her engagement band. “I didn’t want you to choose. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to rise inside you and become the beat of your heart.” He softened his voice, dying inside. “The most decisive actions are the ones with the least consideration.”
“What are you saying?”
“The day you forced yourself to decide, I knew. When Trace walked out that door, I saw it in your eyes.” He forced resolve into his expression. “You voiced a decision your heart wasn’t ready to make.”
Her face turned to stone. But beneath the anger, he glimpsed concession. She knew he was right.
“I’ve watched you fight an inner battle for seven months.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’re fighting a war with your heart.”
Creases of pain etched around her mouth. “If that’s the case, why did I choose you?”
“I was your first. The logical choice. But the heart isn’t logical. Sometimes, we don’t know what we want until it’s gone.”
“It doesn’t matter.” In her usual stubborn fashion, she climbed onto his lap and steeled her voice. “I love you.
“I know you do.” He pulled her against him and tucked her head beneath his chin. “But you love him more.”
She sank h
er fingernails into his shoulders, clutching fiercely, holding on, fighting against the inevitable.
For a moment, he fought alongside her. They belonged together. He could work through this, love her hard, harder than any man ever could, and fill the void Trace left behind. There had been a time when he was all she needed.
Until he ruined it.
Agony rose without warning, scraping jagged shards through his throat.
The damage couldn’t be undone. He’d left her, let her believe he was dead, and lost her to another man.
Hot prickles stabbed the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe.
He’d ruined them.
Dammit, he just wanted her to be happy, and it wasn’t fair to either of them to go on pretending. He’d rather be the one with the gutted heart. Instead of fighting for her, he’d rather fight for her wellbeing and take vicarious contentment in that. This wasn’t him being a martyr. He simply couldn’t find a better way.
He had to let fate play out. Let her go back to Trace. Let her go.
Let it all go.
His vision swarmed with tears. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t release the air in his lungs, but he couldn’t hide his anguish from her.
She leaned back and whimpered at the sight of his tears.
“Don’t make that face.” A sob escaped her as she frantically dried his cheeks with her hands. “Don’t give up on me.”
“I lost you, baby. I lost you the morning I got into that cab and left you crying on the porch.” He hauled her against him, his embrace constricting and his mouth at her ear. “I’m not giving up. I’m letting you go.”
She shattered in his arms, sucking choppy gulps of air. He clung to her, and she clung back, gripping, weeping. He held her through it, crying with her as she came to terms with reality.
Years of friendship, love, and dreams for the future spooled out around them. She would still have those things. Just not with him.
He would never love again. Never find another Danni. He couldn’t even fathom it. She was his soul mate.
For endless minutes, they sat in the sadness, deep in their own thoughts, until the tears stopped. Too soon, she raised her head and cupped his face, wearing a look of devastating finality. He wiped away her tears as she dried his.
