Midnight Action

by Elle Kennedy

  Eventually his hands embarked on their own exploration. He reached behind her and deftly unhooked her bra, then tossed it aside and cupped her breasts.

  Noelle sighed in pleasure. She released his cock and grabbed the back of his head, pushing it down to her aching breasts. He immediately captured a nipple between his lips and sucked, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to her core.

  Before she could blink, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the mattress as his body covered hers. He moved his hand between her legs and lightly stroked her mound over the booty shorts she’d worn to bed.

  “These shorts are so sexy,” he choked out. “You look fantastic in them.”

  She grinned up at him. “They’d look better off me.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it, baby.”

  With that, he peeled the shorts off and threw them aside, and then his hungry mouth roamed her body. He kissed and suckled her breasts until she was writhing with need, and when he crawled between her legs and touched her clit with his tongue, shock waves rocked through her.

  “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered as he licked his way down her slit and circled her opening with his tongue. “Like heaven.”

  When he speared her core with that wicked tongue, she came hard and fast, the unexpected orgasm curling her toes and sending a rush of intense pleasure through her body. She lay there stunned, too startled to move, unable to believe what had happened.

  Jim seemed more amused than shocked as he lifted his head, his mouth glistening. “Seriously? Are you trying to break a Guinness record for fastest climax?”

  “Couldn’t help it. I was really wound up,” she said defensively. “I mean, we did jump out of a plane yesterday.”

  Laughing softly, he climbed up her body, his cock thick and heavy against her belly.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll last long either,” he said ruefully. “I need this too much.”

  “Then take it,” she murmured.

  Heat flared in his eyes. He shifted so that the tip of his erection nudged her opening, and when he slid inside her, they released simultaneous moans.

  “Oh yeah, I won’t last at all,” he ground out.

  He gripped her hips and rose up on his knees, while she lay sprawled beneath him, his for the taking.

  Noelle shivered, then lifted one leg in the air so he could rest it on his shoulder. The position allowed for a deeper angle, his cock filling her so completely that her sex tingled again, the tension building once more.

  He plunged into her, his roped arms flexing as he gripped her leg, but he didn’t go fast. He filled her with deep, lazy strokes, absently shifting his head so he could plant a tender kiss on her calf.

  “God, that feels good,” she whispered. “Keep going slow like that.”

  The only sounds in the room were their soft breathing, the wet glide of his cock sliding in and out. His gaze stayed locked with hers as he slowly rocked into her, and she peered up at him, enthralled by what she saw. Handsome features stretched taut, blue eyes glittering with passion. His powerful chest heaved with each breath he took, and his cock seemed to thicken inside her, pulsing in her core.

  “Gonna come soon,” he mumbled.

  “Not far behind you,” she mumbled back.

  She brought her hand between her legs to speed up the process, rubbing her swollen bud in a circular motion guaranteed to push her over the edge.

  Jim growled at the sight of her fingers working her clit. “Fuck, that’s so hot, baby. I can’t hold back anymore.” His tempo increased as his hips started to piston, his cock driving in deep.

  Noelle stroked herself faster, getting closer and closer to the brink.

  They came at the same time, and she moaned when she felt the warmth of his release fill her throbbing channel. He collapsed on top of her, his soft hair tickling her ear as they lay there gasping, recovering from their respective orgasms. Eventually they both went quiet, their bodies still joined together, their hearts vibrating against each other as their chests remained locked.

  But the moment of contentment was interrupted by the buzz of a cell phone.

  “I hate phones,” he grumbled into her neck. “Seriously. I wanna go back in time and murder Alexander Graham Bell.” He sat up with a groan. “Or was it Edison who invented the phone? I can never remember.”

  She had to laugh. “I’m pretty sure it was Bell.”

  With extreme reluctance, Jim climbed off the bed in search of his pants. He swiped them off the floor and drew out his phone, his expression going serious when he checked the screen.

  “It’s Sully.” He quickly answered the call. “What’s up, Aussie?” He listened for a moment, then barked out, “Stay there. I’ll call you back.”

  “What’s going on?” Noelle asked after he’d hung up.

  “Dietrich and Bauer just boarded a private jet at Charles de Gaulle.” He grimaced. “How much do you want to bet they’re on their way here?”

  Noelle was already hopping off the bed. “I assume you have a solid exit protocol in place?”

  “Yes, but we won’t be using it.”

  Her surprised gaze flew to his. “You’re going to risk another attack on your compound?”

  “Dietrich won’t attack. Not with Ariana’s daughter on the premises.”

  His confidence wasn’t at all reassuring. “So what’s the plan, then?” she asked suspiciously.

  “We let it play out. Let them come.”

  “No offense, but that’s fucking crazy. We shouldn’t be here when they show up, Jim.”

  “You can go if you want.” He shrugged. “But I’m staying.”

  “Jim—”

  “I’m staying,” he repeated firmly. “If Dietrich wants to come after me, great. I’ll be right here waiting for him.” His mouth set in a tight line. “It’s time to end this, once and for all.”

  Chapter 35

  Morgan decided not to tell Cate about their impending visitors. Instead, he spent the entire day with his daughter and enjoyed every last second of it.

  Abby hadn’t been wrong—Cate was a natural with a rifle. Pride had filled Morgan’s heart as he’d watched his daughter hit every target, including the moving ones he’d decided to toss her way when it became obvious that the static targets were too easy. Each time she’d knocked one of the empty bottles out of the sky, she’d laughed in delight, and the impressive display had eventually attracted an audience.

  By the time Cate fired her last shot, all of Morgan’s men, along with Abby and Noelle, had congregated at the fence near the edge of the outdoor range to watch Cate shoot. Ash and Reilly had applauded her several times, and Kane had high-fived her when she finally strode back to the fence.

  Despite the lighthearted atmosphere, everyone but Cate remained on the alert. Morgan had warned his team that Dietrich was on his way, and they were all on guard, ready to flee if necessary.

  But he didn’t intend on running from a fight. He’d already lost one compound to an unexpected attack—he wasn’t about to lose another. His first priority was keeping Cate safe, but he wasn’t cutting and running unless he absolutely had to.

  He was surprised that Noelle had stayed, though. She’d helped him bring his daughter home just like she’d promised, which meant she had no reason to stick around. Morgan kept expecting her to leave at any second, but a part of him hoped she wouldn’t.

  But why? What exactly was he expecting to happen between them? What did he want to happen? He hadn’t let himself think beyond the sex, but now that he was, his thoughts had turned into a jumbled mess, plagued with so many questions his mind was spinning.

  Could they ever really have a future together? There was so much bad blood between them, so much baggage, but he no longer felt the burn of hatred he used to feel in her presence. Their time together ha
d chipped away at it, made him realize that he’d been blaming the wrong person all these years.

  It was his fault Ariana had gotten away. Noelle might have been the catalyst for Ariana’s disappearance, but he was the one who’d set it all in motion when he’d betrayed the woman he’d loved.

  As the group headed back to the house, he felt Noelle’s eyes on him, but when he glanced over, he couldn’t read her expression.

  “You staying for dinner?” he asked casually.

  She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder, pursing her lips for a moment. “I guess I could. My pilot is on standby at the airfield, but I suppose he can wait awhile longer.”

  It didn’t escape him that she hadn’t provided a specific time of departure.

  And he didn’t mind in the slightest.

  Cate sidled up to them, looking happy for the first time since they’d left France. He knew she was still upset about her friend’s death, not to mention what she’d had to do at her mother’s house in order to evade her guards. He knew the guilt must be eating her up inside, but he was hesitant to raise the subject.

  He still couldn’t believe Walther had kept Ariana alive for all those years. It was...sad. That was the only adjective he could think of, and yet when it came down to it, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Walther Dietrich had worshiped his daughter—it made sense that he would refuse to let her go.

  Morgan unwittingly glanced at Cate, realizing that he and Dietrich had at least one thing in common. They both refused to give up their daughters.

  He didn’t miss the way Noelle had quickened her pace when Cate had joined them, and she was already walking ahead of them, as if she was eager to get away from the teenager. It might have grated, if not for the fact that Noelle was like that around everybody. The woman always went out of her way to make sure nobody ever got too close.

  Though he supposed he was to blame for that.

  “Your girlfriend doesn’t like me.” Cate’s low remark confirmed that she’d noticed Noelle’s hasty retreat.

  He sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “No? Because it sure seems like it.” Cate reached up to play with the bottom of her braid, which he’d noticed was a nervous habit of hers. “I can’t decide if I like her.”

  Morgan had to chuckle. “Yeah, most people have that problem. She’s a difficult woman.”

  “No kidding. She’s beautiful, though. Like crazy beautiful.”

  Another sigh slipped out. “That she is.”

  “What exactly does she do for a living? Nobody will tell me.”

  He thought about it for a moment, then said, “It’s complicated.”

  His daughter snorted. “That’s your go-to answer, huh?”

  “Pretty much.” He flashed her a grin before turning the tables on her. “What about you? What do you want to do for a living? Do you have any plans for after you graduate?”

  “Honestly? I have no clue. I like to write, but I don’t think I could cut it as a novelist. But I think I’d be good at writing scathing editorials, so maybe journalism is the way to go. Or photography. I’m obsessed with taking pictures.”

  “I’ll buy you a camera,” he said immediately.

  She blushed. “Oh. You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He shot her a sheepish look. “But I should probably buy you some clothes first, huh? That way you don’t have to keep wearing Abby’s.”

  Speaking of Abby, Morgan discovered that she was the center of attention when he and Cate joined the rest of the group on the terrace. Everyone had already settled around the large wrought-iron table, and the three dogs that lived on the compound were circling Abby’s chair, whining with excitement as they shoved their wet noses in her direction in a plea for attention.

  “Jesus Christ, leave my wife alone,” Kane grumbled. His green eyes flickered with disbelief as he looked over at Cate. “You know I have to kick them out of our bed every night? They refuse to leave her side.”

  From the other side of the table, Reilly wiggled his eyebrows. “Clearly the pups have good taste. Your wife is hot, mate. Deal with it.”

  Morgan sat down at the head of the table and reached for the bottle of Bud that Inna had placed next to his plate. Their Russian housekeeper had gone all out for tonight’s dinner. She’d set the table with their finest dishes and silverware, arranged a row of pretty tea-light candles down the center of the table, and even prepared an elaborate centerpiece consisting of fragrant purple wildflowers, flowing white ribbons, and what looked like pieces of bark from one of the trees beyond the swimming pool.

  It seemed like a lot of effort for a run-of-the-mill dinner, but Morgan had come to expect that from Inna. Times like these, though, he really missed Lloyd, their previous housekeeper, who had been killed during the attack on the Tijuana compound. Lloyd had been a former Mafia enforcer, a giant man with simple tastes and an efficient, no-nonsense way of running a household, and he would never dream of picking flowers and peeling the bark off a tree and sticking them in the middle of the table.

  But despite her girly tendencies, Morgan couldn’t deny that Inna was growing on him.

  “Boss, you listening to me?” The question came from Kane, who was looking at him with an amused expression.

  Morgan shifted his gaze off the fancy-pants centerpiece. “Sorry—what?”

  “I was saying that Ethan and D checked in about an hour ago. They finished debriefing the officials in Quito. They’re heading home tomorrow.”

  “What about Trevor and Luke?”

  “Wrapped up the security gig and are making their way home to their women as we speak.”

  Morgan nodded absently, mentally debating whether he should reroute Trev and Luke to the compound instead. They might need the manpower, depending on what Dietrich had in store for them.

  Just as the thought entered his head, one of the compound’s security guards appeared in the doorway that separated the terrace from the kitchen.

  Morgan’s shoulders tensed as he met the other man’s eyes. “Everything okay, Bill?”

  The dark-haired man shook his head, a grim look on his face. “We’ve got visitors.”

  Chapter 36

  “The perimeter is secure, sir.” The report had come from the leader of the mercenary team, who awaited Nik’s orders with expectant eyes.

  Nik turned away from the massive electric fence closing off James Morgan’s property from the clearing.

  “Thank you, Ivan. Maintain your positions. We move on my signal.”

  The bulky Serb nodded before disappearing into the trees. Ten mercenaries were already stationed at various points of the perimeter, but Nik, Dietrich, and the ten remaining men had congregated in the hills bordering one edge of the vast property. The hillside overlooked the eastern face of the Spanish-style home, offering a perfect bird’s-eye view, and close enough to the compound that a strategically placed shot from an RPG would blow a hole in the side of the house.

  But they weren’t planning on doing that. Not yet, anyway. Not until Cate had been removed from Morgan’s clutches.

  Nik had been overcome with relief when he’d learned that Cate had survived the plane crash. Or at least that was what the evidence had led them to believe. Nik’s source confirmed that only one body had been found at the site of the crash—a male in his forties. Burned to a crisp, which made identification difficult, to say the least.

  But Nik wasn’t naive enough to believe that the corpse had belonged to James Morgan. According to the man who’d arranged the charter, there had been six people aboard the Gulfstream. Four males, including the pilot, and two females. One man was now dead, which meant that the others had survived the crash. Since no footprints or tracks had been discovered at the crash site, it stood to reason that the five passengers on board had parachuted out. The owner of the airport in France claimed that
he’d rid the jet of all its emergency gear, but James Morgan was a pro—surely he would carry parachutes in his gear.

  So Morgan probably wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon.

  Oh yes, that bastard was going to die for what he’d done to Ariana; Nik would make sure of it. But right now, his first priority was getting Catarina back.

  “Has Girard gotten us a phone number yet?” Dietrich came up beside him, his features creased with impatience.

  “He’s still working on it,” Nik replied.

  As he gazed at the compound again, he hoped that the mercenaries they’d hired were up to the task. Nik had run into several snags when hiring the soldiers; ironically, most of his contacts had referred him to the same private military company—owned by one James Morgan. It had enraged Dietrich to no end that one of the most skilled mercenary teams currently operating in the world happened to be the one whose compound they were targeting.

  They’d had to settle for the Serbian team Nik had secured through a middleman in Russia, though the Serbs had a good reputation for getting the job done, according to his contacts.

  As his own impatience grew, Nik pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Girard again and see what the holdup is.”

  The moment he went to dial, the cell phone rang in his hand.

  “Who is it?” Dietrich said sharply.

  “Private number.”

  With a frown, Nik decided to answer the call. “Who’s this?” he barked.

  “Is that you, Nikolaus? Cate gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.”

  The familiar male voice made his blood run cold.

  “Morgan,” he spat out.

  “Are you with Walther, by any chance? Put me on speakerphone if you are.”

  As anger sizzled in his veins, Nik pressed the speaker icon and held up the phone in front of Dietrich, who immediately leaned in and spoke in a tone cold enough to freeze an ocean.