by Desiree Holt
In seconds, he had grabbed his wallet from his pants pocket, extracted a condom, and rolled it onto his swollen shaft. He lifted Regan, yanked the covers back on the bed, and arranged her so her head was on the pillows. Then he climbed between her thighs, opening her wide, and knelt so the head of his cock was poised just at her opening. He wrapped his fingers around the pulsing shaft, and, locking his eyes with hers, very slowly pushed inside.
Holymotherfucking shit!
He’d died and gone to paradise. That was the only reason for the incredible feeling that washed through him and made every one of his hormones do a happy dance. She was hot and wet and tight, ramping up his pulse rate and making him want to ride her as fast as possible to come inside her. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold back as he began the slow in-and-out, thrust-and-retreat motion. He locked his gaze with hers, registering every response, every change of emotion.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “Don’t look away from me. See what I’m feeling.”
She locked her gaze with his as he demanded. What he saw was a wealth of emotion as strong and as unexpected as his, all mixed with intense need and hunger. Holy shit! This was better than a ride to paradise. It was beyond heaven. In all these years, he’d never had sex with a woman and felt like this. Except this wasn’t just sex. It was what he’d been looking for all his life, and he’d better be damn good at it.
He forced himself to set up a slow rhythm, in and out, back and forth. He held himself back with superhuman effort until he felt her perched just at the edge of climax. His cock filled her, thick and hot and incredibly hard. She wound her legs around him, locked her ankles at the base of his spine, and, pulled him as tight to her body as he could get. He balanced on one arm while he slid the other hand between them, found her clit, and began rubbing it.
In mere seconds he saw the expression on her face change and felt the pulsing begin inside her core. Her inner muscles gripped his cock, and he stopped holding back and drove into her harder and faster, setting up a rhythm that she matched. He felt the beginnings of his orgasm just as her inner muscles started to ripple around his shaft, and he drove into her one last time, hot and hard. One more forceful thrust, and they were riding that roller-coaster together.
Spasms gripped them as his cock pulsated inside her, her inner walls convulsing and milking him. He caught himself on his forearms, waiting for his breathing to even out, not sure whose heart pounded the loudest, his or Regan’s. When the shudders subsided at last, Max brushed a kiss over her lips before nuzzling the crook of her neck. He was so thoroughly spent, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to move again.
For a very long moment neither of them spoke. Max was almost afraid to say anything and break the spell, for fear he’d misread her and he was the only one for whom this had been almost a religious experience. Then she smiled at him, and his heart began to beat again.
“Not bad for an old couple,” she joked.
“Not old,” he corrected, “just wonderfully mature.”
He hated to break the connection with her, but he needed to get rid of the condom and clean himself up. When he returned to the bedroom, she was still in the same spot and still smiling. Thank god for that.
He turned off the lamp on the nightstand, slid into bed beside Regan, and turned her so she was spooned against him. Then he banded an arm around her and cupped a warm breast with his hand. When she pushed back against him, he was afraid his cock was going to rise up and demand more, and, for the moment, he wasn’t sure he had it in him. He had some things he wanted to say, but he was choosing his words carefully. He wanted to get this right and not fuck up the best thing to come into his life ever.
“I can smell your brain burning,” she teased.
“Regan.” He hugged her tighter against him then pulled a pillow over them to make their voices indistinguishable and spoke so softly nothing could pick up their words. “I just want to be sure you know that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and we hardly even got started. If I had the energy I’d haul you back into the shower.”
She gave a soundless chuckle. “Either you’ve had pretty bad sex or you have very low standards.”
He squeezed her firm breast and put his lips close to her ear so he could whisper, “Neither one of those is true. I was so hot for you I couldn’t have taken a minute longer than I did. And that is definitely a first for me. I’ve never had this instant connection with a woman, Regan. Ever. I don’t want to fuck it up. I know we have to put it on hold while we work this assignment, but after…”
He was far from ready to say the love word yet, but, at forty-eight, it was time. And he’d found the woman he could feel that with.
She took so long before she said anything else, Max was almost afraid to hear what she had to say.
“I never thought I’d find anyone after Dylan,” she said at last. “He was it for me. My everything. When he was killed, it nearly destroyed me. But all the work I’ve done since then I looked at as a way to honor his memory because I was sure that’s all I’d have.”
Max held his breath.
“But then I met you, and another door opened. I’m glad we made love tonight, Max. That’s going to hold us when we walk into the lion’s den tomorrow. We both know this mission comes before anything. If we can’t stop it, nothing else matters. But I know we will. And when this is over…”
“When this is over, I’d love for you to come up to Maine with me. Check it out. Try it out. Who knows? You might like it better than D.C.”
“If you’re there, that’s already a big plus.”
“Okay, then.”
He brushed her curls back from her cheek and placed a whisper of a kiss on her cheek. Then he closed his eyes. They’d need every bit of sleep when tomorrow came around.
Chapter Eight
Max couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—he’d been so emotionally involved in sex. His connection with Regan was a revelation that he could actually have that kind of relationship. They made love again just before falling asleep, slower and very delicious, and all the more erotic because they couldn’t allow themselves to make a sound. By now he knew much more than his body was involved.
But they had a job to do that came first. Thank god his engrained SEAL discipline would allow him to pack it in a mental closet until this was over. And extra thanks that Regan was on the same wavelength. The assignment took front and center. No question about it.
They also knew that while they’d be sharing a bed at the lodge, sex would be off their list of activities.
“You know the room we’ll be given is going to be bugged,” Max told her as they lay sated and quiet in the dark.
“No question about it,” she agreed.
“All that time we spent with him and his wife still didn’t answer all his reservations. I wouldn’t put it past him to kill us—or have us killed—if he gets too suspicious.”
“But wouldn’t he worry that we might, after all, be the real thing, and Bernardo Ferren wouldn’t be too happy if his brother and sister-in-law were murdered?”
“I think he’d rather deal with that,” Max told her, “than have a snake in their midst that could destroy all their plans. Think about this. If we can’t stop them, there will be major attacks at five separate locations that will kill thousands of people and destroy property. The government will be turning itself inside out to find out who did this, wonder where there might be other attacks, and figure out how to prevent them.”
“I wouldn’t put it past these people to follow it up with a series of smaller attacks the next day,” Regan agreed. “The government will be in chaos, terrorists can run around shooting people at will, and by the time the dust settles, these people will be in control and have their figurehead in place.”
Max nodded. “All the more reason we have to get information to Si so DHS can begin to take precautions.
Even after all the time they’d just spent with him, Max still had the feeling Jed d
idn’t completely trust them. Regan told him she agreed with him. She got the same sense of reservation. And while Anna Whitlow had been polite and charming, the vibes they got from her didn’t make them feel warm and fuzzy. There was a cold arrogance about her that made them wonder who actually was the driving force in their marriage.
“I’m wondering if it’s such a good idea to bring you into this,” Max mused.
“Don’t even try to leave me out,” she warned. “I can help you analyze everything we learned, not to mention the fact that I’m a damn good shot if I need to be.”
Max had to admit she was right. They’d spent some time on the range at the place where they had been staying, testing the Ferren weapons, and she’d actually amazed him with her skill.
They ate an early breakfast the next morning then checked out of the hotel and headed out of town. As they drove to the Whitlow place the next morning, Max called Lou Valenti, the county sheriff who was their contact if necessary. Max drove while Regan dialed the number of the man’s private cell and put him on speaker phone so they could both talk.
“I got a call from Si this morning, also,” Valenti told them. “He knows I can’t exactly do drive-bys of the place, but I’m available twenty-four seven if needed. And he gave me the numbers of the two guys who are your backup.”
“Hopefully,” Max told him, “we can get in, get our information, and get out. But I’ve learned not to count on plans working out as expected.”
“We’ll text you whenever we text our guys to keep them up to date,” Regan said. “But I’m also hoping we can pull this off without needing any of you and get the hell out of there.”
“Take care of yourselves,” Valenti said, “and keep me on speed dial.”
Twenty minutes later they turned off the two-lane highway onto a gravel road that wound between thick stands of trees. Regan’s eyes widened as they reached the end of the road where a house stood in the center of a large clearing. Beyond it stood two more smaller buildings. Calling this a lodge, she thought, would be too simple. It soared three stories toward the sky, with a wide front porch and large picture windows. The only thing rustic about it was the polished log exterior. Otherwise, even from a distance, she could tell no expense had been spared.
Acres of forested land stretched from all sides of the building. Talk about being isolated.
“This is certainly some place.”
Max chuckled. “I’d only bring you to the nicest places.”
“Must be nice to have money to waste on something like this,” she told Max.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t change places with him for anything. What kind of man plots the overthrow of his country, anyway?”
“The kind who thinks his power is unlimited.”
Max had parked in a large gravel area that already held several other vehicles.
“Looks like we’re the last ones here,” Regan commented.
“Good. That means we can meet them all at once and don’t have to worry about getting caught up in conversations with each couple as they come in. One big blast is better.”
“We might even be able to play them off against each other. Find out the locations of the strikes. They picked a symbolic day to do this They’ll want it to happen at the most visible sites.”
“I hope they go over it early on. There are at least fifteen major celebrations that day. I know Si could arrange to have all of them covered, but it would be nice if he didn’t have to.”
“Agreed.”
Regan sighed. “Well, I suppose we should get to it.”
Now he turned to her and took her hand. “Before we go in and put on our costume faces, I just want to tell you how great last night was.”
Heat burned her cheeks. “For me, too. I know I was out of practice, but—”
“You were just what I wanted,” he told her in a low voice. “In every possible way. It centers me to be able to pull off this charade and be successful at it.”
She squeezed his hand. “Me, too.”
“When this is over…”
“Yes. When this is over.”
“We should go in.” Max released her hand with obvious reluctance. “Whitlow is probably pissed we didn’t let him pick us up, or at least follow him here. And I’m sure he’s been watching for us from whatever screen the security system feeds into.”
“Okay, let’s go be the Ferrens and figure out how to pull the plug on this.”
Max grabbed their suitcases as well as his briefcase out of the trunk of the car and followed Regan up to the house. Just as she was about to knock on the door, a tall, lanky man with graying curly hair pulled it open. She recognized him from the pictures she’d printed out.
“Come in, come in. Max and Regan Ferren, right?” He held out a hand. “Jed Whitlow. “We met, but it’s been some time since we’ve seen each other.”
Max shook the proffered hand and nodded. “Good to see you again. Bernardo is grateful you’re letting us fill in for him. He’s very much invested in this, you know.”
“I do know. He and I go back a long way. I was delighted when he agreed to come on board.”
As if he just realized he’d cornered them in the doorway, Jed reached for one of the suitcases. “Here. Let me help you with these. Under normal circumstances, I’d have my caretaker haul them to your room. However, considering the nature of this meeting, I thought it best to give him a few days off.”
“Good thought.”
Jed took both suitcases and placed them to one side of the large foyer. Max held onto the briefcase, and Jed just shrugged. Regan would have bet a month’s pay while they were occupied in the meeting someone would be going through them looking for any evidence they were imposters. That was one reason why Max’s weapons were in the hard-sided suitcase. locked in a special compartment invisible even to the most intrusive inspection. They had their special pens with them.
“This way, then. The others are already gathered around the table. Did you have breakfast? I’ve got a selection of pastries, but if—"
Regan held up her hand. “We’re good. We ate before we checked out.”
“Okay, then. Let’s get you hooked up with everyone else.”
He led them through the living room to a large dining room with huge windows on two sides. Sheer drapes covered the windows, cutting down the glare of the sun. Seven people were sitting at the table, coffee mugs in front of them along with plates of pastry that had no doubt come from the large tray in the center. They all looked at Max and Regan with a mixture of curiosity and hostility.
Jed made the introductions then indicated the two empty seats between the Cavanaughs and Whitlow’s wife. The empty chair at the head of the table was obviously Jed’s.
“So nice to see you again.
“Glad you found the place. Jed said he’d have been happy to pick you up, you know.”
“That was so very kind and thoughtful of him.” Regan could fake a smile with the best of them. “But we felt we’d already imposed enough. You know, dinner two nights in a row, and Jed spending all that time bringing us up to speed. I know we’re last minute substitutions but really, we just need to learn the details of anything that happened since the last meeting, and we’re good to go.” She looked at Max. “Right, dear?”
He nodded in agreement.
“All right, then.” Jed gestured at the setup on a credenza with a large coffeemaker and mugs. “Coffee?”
“Yes.” Regan nodded. “Thanks.”
She and Max carried full mugs to their seats, then sat while Jed made the introductions. She wondered what everyone’s reaction would be, but she didn’t have long to wait.
Lorena Alvaro leaned forward in her seat, fixing both of them with a hard stare.
“I don’t like to beat around the bush,” she said. “Tell us why Bernardo thought you and your wife would be good substitutes in this situation. We want to be sure the two of you have the same commitment he and Jeanne have.”
Regan swallowed a sm
ile. She’d dealt with a lot of women like Lorena over the years, but she waited to see what Max would say.
“We’re very close ideologically,” Max told her. “In fact, I know you’re aware that he and I have been discussing this group ever since it was formed.” He looked around the table. “Besides, he couldn’t have made the arms commitments without me. We own the company equally.”
Regan watched everyone’s faces as Max spoke. The Cavanaughs might as well as have been wearing masks, their faces showing no emotions at all. The Emerys looked as if they were examining bugs under a microscopic lens. Lorena Alvaro’s posture gave the impression she didn’t like this last-minute change at all. Her husband simply stared at them. Only Anna Whitlow, who they’d had dinner with two nights in a row, had a smile of any kind for them, although Regan wasn’t sure she’d call it welcoming, either.
“Bernardo was going to bring the final inventory on the arms and munitions,” Gavin Emery said in his gravelly voice. “That was so we could review it and make sure we had enough.”
Max nodded, lifted his briefcase to the table, opened it, and took out thin file folders. He also removed his pen from his pocket, and Regan retrieved hers from her purse. They were now good to go with audio and video. She just hoped the damn things really worked. They tested them several times at the house outside of D.C., but she knew better than most how easily electronics could fuck themselves up.
“This is the list Bernardo said you all agreed on at the last meeting,” Max told them as he distributed the folders. “I’ve read it over. You outlined for him how many men would need to be armed and what the plan for each location was so we could gather the inventory. I understand there are still some final decisions to be made. So, just to be safe, he drew up a list for every one of the spots.”
Each of the people seated there opened the folders and studied the contents.
Kurt Cavanaugh looked up from his first.
