Technical Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her up on her wobbly legs. She leaned toward him, but he caught her around the waist and lifted her again, putting her back against the wall. She gasped and clung to him.

  Miles held her by the hips. She shifted slightly and felt his erection against her folds. She bit her lip and canted her hips.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  They fit.

  She stopped breathing the moment she felt him at her entrance.

  Miles opened his eyes and looked at her.

  His hold on her hips relaxed and he slid inside of her.

  Her breath caught in her throat. She’d wondered if she’d remembered last night correctly, if it could feel as good as she remembered it. The reality was better.

  Miles flexed and lifted her a bit before thrusting. In one motion, he joined their bodies completely. She squeezed him to her, the sensation zinging around her insides.

  “You feel so damn good,” he muttered against her cheek.

  She gasped for head. “I thought it had all been in my head.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not where it is.”

  Her cheeks heated, but deep down she agreed.

  Miles kissed her, stoking the heat. And then he moved. She wasn’t prepared for it. The feeling of him holding her there against the wall or the overwhelming sense of his strength. He stared into her eyes as he stroked deep inside of her. Never before had sex been so all-encompassing. Her mind didn’t wander, she was here with him.

  Diha moaned and let her head fall back against the wall. Miles bent his head to her breasts and sucked at her nipples, one after the other. She was a prisoner to this thing they had, and it was amazing.

  Miles gripped her hips tighter and thrust, deeper than before. She gasped at the sensation rippling through her.

  “I need you to come, babe. Dee?”

  “Do that again,” she whispered.

  Once more he drove into her hard and fast. “That?”

  She dug her nails into his skin. “Oh—yes. Yes, that.”

  He picked up the pace, giving her what she wanted.

  She tipped her head back and groaned, the pleasure of it washing over her.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “I can’t—Dee.”

  He was holding back, doing his best for her.

  She reached between them and touched herself. She’d never before done this with another partner. It had always seemed too intimate. And yet with Miles she wanted to come with him.

  Diha locked eyes with him. Her fingers grazed him as he moved, as she stroked her own need.

  He thrust harder maybe, but it was the perfect moment.

  She gasped and her internal muscles tightened around him. His mouth opened on a soul-deep groan of pleasure before taking her mouth in a kiss. He thrust roughly into her, each slid drawing out the sensation, prolonging it until his body tensed and he froze.

  All she could hear was the pounding of her heart and both of them gasping for air.

  It was just as good, if not better, than she remembered.

  They remained like that for several moments. Miles buried his head in the crook of her neck, holding tight. The sweat dampening her skin cooled and the room became chilly. Once more her limbs were more liquid than solid and she was grateful, it was Miles holding them up and not her.

  She stroked the hair on the back of his neck and refused to contemplate the deeper ramifications of what they were to each other now.

  In a sense, he was right. What they were could wait.

  Maybe he would destroy her later, but for now she wanted this.

  “I can hear the wheels turning.” He kissed her temple.

  “Good thoughts, I swear.”

  He lifted his head and her.

  She peered at the ground and clung to his shoulders.

  “How about a quick shower?” he muttered against her ear.

  “O-okay.”

  It sounded intimate, but at this point she was a goner.

  Miles took them into the small bathroom, turned on the water and stripped her sorry excuse for a bra off her. While she got in the shower, he took care of the condom, then joined her.

  Quick was an apt word for what they did. While she was in a mental blur, still wrapped up in how it had felt, he soaped her up then himself and rinsed them both off. That done, she was once more bundled into his shirt and nothing else, then put to bed. He joined her after a quick look around.

  Even after the height of passion, he couldn’t stop being cautious.

  She cuddled up next to him, her head on his shoulder. “I don’t remember saying we could share the bed.”

  He tightened his hold around her waist. “I didn’t ask.”

  She smiled into the darkness, not the least bit perturbed by him. And that was telling. Diha didn’t like men who assumed and just took control. Not usually. But Miles... He was different.

  “I was thinking about what you said earlier, about your plan to trap Valentino,” he said into the darkness.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think we should try it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Even if it doesn’t work and we get nothing, it’s still something to do. Something that isn’t sitting around waiting.”

  “I’ll work on a plan of attack in the morning.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Yes.” She stroked her hand down his chest, reveling in the freedom she had with him. “One of the names we think Valentino has worked under was Eros.”

  “Is that a theme? Valentine? Love?”

  “Maybe, but nothing has come from investigating that angle. Anyway, Eros was part of a hacking ring that did small to mid-range jobs for hire. One of that ring is an informant for MI6. Think you could pull some strings?”

  “How do you know this?” He peered down at her, his face barely visible in the darkness.

  “Because we were tracking the same people, so when this person started behaving differently we went digging. I don’t know for sure he’s an MI6 informant, it’s just a pattern.”

  “Do you have a name or a file?”

  “I do. I’ll send it to you in the morning.” She yawned and suddenly her eyelids were so very heavy.

  Miles kissed the top of her head and gave her a squeeze. “Sleep. We have a lot to do and I don’t want you to run yourself ragged.”

  Diha smiled to herself and sighed. While she’d like nothing more than to just lay here in his arms, they did have a lot to do. Now she had her own motivation fueling her. The faster they wrapped up this job the sooner she could take a little vacation time. Maybe nothing would come from her and Miles. Maybe he was her future. But she wanted to find out. She wanted to give them that chance because he was right. They were worth it.

  Tomorrow she’d tell Priya and Felecia. And then, she’d get down to work. There was so much more to fight for now.

  14.

  Friday. Bed and Breakfast. Brighton, United Kingdom.

  Miles balanced the tray of food on his palm. He hadn’t been a waiter since he was a teenager, earning extra cash over the summer. He didn’t recall it being this hard to keep everything from sliding around.

  He managed to open the cottage door and stepped inside.

  Diha sat up in bed, blinking at him with a frown curving her mouth.

  “It’s nine,” she said.

  “It is. I grabbed the last breakfast. Good morning.”

  He strode across the cottage and set the bountiful meal down at the small table in front of the sofa. He didn’t trust the cups and plates to stay where they should with all the sliding around they’d done, so the bed was out. The small table was covered with Diha’s work, so that was out, too. And he didn’t feel like standing at the island cart to eat.

  Despite how exhausted Diha had been and how quickly she’d fallen asleep, Miles had woken up maybe two hours later to the sound of soft clacking. He’d reached for Diha and his gun before realizing she was gone.

  The best he could
get out of her was that she’d dozed for a few minutes, then popped awake with a great idea for their trap. Instead of just jotting it down, she’d begun work. And had worked most of the night. He’d been too groggy to stay awake at the time.

  “Is that a weird breakfast or a normal breakfast?” she asked.

  He chuckled. Tired, Diha was rather cute. “What’s a weird breakfast?”

  “All those mushy peas. What is it with mushy peas?”

  He glanced at the beans portion of the billed traditional breakfast fare. “What do you normally eat for breakfast?”

  “My mother makes dosas.”

  “Dosas?” He scanned his memory but couldn’t place the word.

  “Crepes. She makes Indian crepes.”

  “Your mom just pops by every morning with breakfast?”

  Diha tilted her head, her frown deepening. She still hadn’t moved from the nest of blankets and pillows. “I just go downstairs.”

  “Oh.”

  She still lived with her parents.

  Miles hadn’t expected that. There was something very private about her. He hadn’t envisioned her sharing space with anyone.

  Diha sighed and pushed the blankets back. “A good Indian girl stays at home until she’s married.”

  “I thought you said your parents weren’t big on tradition.”

  She snorted and chuckled. “I don’t think I said that. They aren’t big on arranged marriages. Everything else? That’s fair game.”

  “They don’t let you move out?” He was curious now.

  She padded across the floor to him. She still wore his shirt, but she’d put her pajama pants back on, likely when she got up to work.

  “It’s just always been understood that we stay at home. I haven’t really thought about it. Besides, what would I do if I lived alone? Never see anyone?” She shook her head. “It’s cheaper to pitch into the family’s bills. I have someone at home to talk to. And I like my family.”

  Miles rolled it around in his head.

  Normally if he met a woman who still lived at home and wasn’t a caretaker to aging family, he’d stay away. That screamed problems. But Diha came from a different culture. It was obvious she was independent and capable. He had no doubt that if she wanted her own space, she’d have bucked tradition. But family was important to her, and damn if he didn’t like that.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” She sighed and leveled a look at him. “Thirtysomething woman living at home?”

  He held up his hands and grinned. He was doing a lot of that around her. Smiling. Laughing. It was good for him. “I was just thinking it was nice how involved with your family you are. I feel like I barely know mine.”

  “Really?”

  “Once Nan passed, we sort of drifted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  Diha sat and looked down at the full plates. “More beans? That’s so weird.”

  Miles chuckled.

  “I have not so great news,” she said.

  “What?” He took the lids off the mugs of coffee and passed the sweetened one to her.

  “Two agents will be joining us today.” Her lips twisted distastefully as she spoke.

  “Why is that a bad thing?”

  She regarded him over the mug, and he knew she was weighing whether or not to trust him with something. He wanted to pass. He wanted her to trust him, but he also knew the lines this job drew for a person. If she chose not to tell him, he’d be disappointed, but he’d understand.

  “One second.”

  She got up and hustled over to her things on the table before returning with a small device. She pressed a few buttons and a green light came on.

  Some sort of anti-listening device?

  “Okay.” She sat cross-legged facing him. Despite not touching her coffee and only having a few hours sleep, she stared at him with alert, intent eyes. “I have five minutes before that thing will shut off. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but... I’m worried about our safety. All of us. And you need to know that. So, I’m telling you, but I’m not. Understand?”

  “Understood.”

  He wasn’t going to like this.

  “Our task force has a mole. Someone is leaking information and sabotaging us. It’s why we kept this team so small and why we requested to work with you. We were hoping that by only using the people we know haven’t betrayed us and people new to the equation, we might be able to limit our leak.”

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “The two CIA agents arriving today, Joon and Baker? We haven’t been able to rule them out.”

  “We?”

  She winced, then said slower. “Myself and Cat, but I shouldn’t tell you that much. I hired Cat as my assistant and gave her the sole job of working on the mole issue.”

  “Okay, so why not just send Joon and Baker back?”

  “It’s more complicated. Zora is the assistant director of the task force. I know she’s who you see and hear from, but she answers to someone. And he’s kind of a blowhard. It’s department politics. I’m assuming Joon or Baker found out where we were, went over Zora’s head and got permission to join us. I like them. I don’t think either of them are our guy, but I also can’t rule them out and I want the people on this team to be safe.”

  Safe?

  Exactly what had happened?

  He didn’t think she’d tell him if he asked, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of danger she lived in.

  It was a damn good thing she was still under her parent’s roof. They could at least make sure she had a safe home to come back to.

  “What else do I need to know?” he asked.

  She opened and closed her mouth. “I think that’s all I dare tell you. I’m sorry.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “Thank you.”

  Miles knew she was breaking her rules to tell him that much. He appreciated the show of trust. A day ago, he didn’t think she’d have done that.

  The device’s light died and for a moment they sat there holding hands in silence.

  “We should eat before the food gets cold.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “I emailed some guys at MI5. Hopefully we’ll hear from them sooner rather than later.”

  “I fear we’ll be stuck without an assist on this one.” She pulled her hair back and secured it into a messy topknot before leaning forward and taking interest in the coffee.

  “Any word about your other people?” He took a bite of toast.

  “Oh, Zora thinks the lawyers are making headway with what we gave them.”

  “Good.” He chewed another bite while studying her.

  Work would easily consume them. There were hours left in the day. Right now, he wanted to take a little time for them. The last thing they needed was a repeat of yesterday’s divide.

  Miles mulled his thoughts over as they ate. Really, until his MI5 contact got back to them, they were at a loss for what to do.

  For now he bided his time, enjoying these quiet moments. He finished his food and sat back, sipping his coffee.

  He knew what he wanted for the first time in what felt like years. In an odd way it seemed like he’d been waiting for her. The holding pattern of his life had been about her. He hadn’t been in a place to appreciate her before, and he had the sense that she’d done some growing of her own. But now?

  Now he firmly believed that this was their chance.

  “Beans with breakfast is weird.” She curled her legs under her and turned toward him, coffee in hand.

  He studied her, liking this vision of her in his shirt with her hair still messy from his fingers.

  “Before we get caught up in the day, I think we should take a moment and talk about us.”

  Her chin came up and her eyes widened.

  He set the almost empty cup down and placed his hand on her knee. “I’m not pressuring you to decide anything. I just want to know that we’re both still on the same page.”

  “Okay.” She cl
utched her mug with both hands.

  “I like you. A lot.”

  “Oh. Well, I like you, too. A lot.” She stared down into her coffee. “I’m not very good at this stuff.”

  “You don’t have to be.” He plucked the mug out of her hands and took them in his. He lifted one hand then the other to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m not good at relationships either. I’ve avoided them, to be honest. But I know for any partnership to thrive people have to talk. Can we at least do that?”

  “O-okay. That’s reasonable. And I’m really sorry about how freaked out I got yesterday.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. She pulled her hands from his and held his face, her fingers burrowing into his hair.

  Diha might be awkward at times and he enjoyed how flustered she could get when it was just the two of them, but when they kissed, he knew it was right.

  He planted a hand on the cushion at her hip and leaned into her, forcing her to lie back with her head on the arm rest of the sofa. Her lips curved into a smile as he settled on top of her.

  “I thought you wanted to talk.” Her voice vibrated with laughter.

  He bumped her nose with his. “I think this is the best kind of talking.”

  Their lips met as his phone rang.

  He groaned and pushed up, mentally cursing the device. Or he did until he saw who it was.

  “Cross everything,” he muttered to Diha as he sat up. “Green.”

  “I understand you need to use one of our informants,” the man on the other end of the line said.

  Miles grinned at Diha. Something was going right.

  MI5 wouldn’t admit to having the informant if they weren’t willing to use him. Things might be turning around for them at last.

  FRIDAY. HEATHROW AIRPORT. London, United Kingdom.

  Ramon scowled at a man who got too close to him as they waited for their bags at the carousel.

  This was not where he was supposed to be. Things were not supposed to have worked out like this.

  After Texas, he should have cut all ties and gone into hiding. He’d thought simply lying low would suffice. He’d sorely underestimated Skilton. Then again, Ramon hadn’t understood just how much he owed the man. Kurt had always taken care of the details. Ramon simply went where he was told and did his part of the job.