“Oh my god,” she cried.
He breathed out a laugh of delight as his second finger joined the first. He removed his mouth so he could watch the building ecstasy on her flushed cheeks. Sweat dotted the skin between her breasts and he kicked himself for leaving the beautiful globes confined in her bra.
“God, I missed this pus—”
“Brock!” she chastised on a moan. A smile split her face and embarrassment flamed in her cheeks. She pressed her hand to the top of his head and guided him back down to her apex. He nuzzled his mouth into her heat and rolled his tongue over her clit again.
Deep, pleasure-filled panting reached his ears, teetering him over the edge. She curled her fingers into his hair, and he kept the steady rhythm of his fingers: in, out, in, out.
“Ah, Brock!” Her body spasmed and her hips pulsated with each surge of wetness into his mouth. Slowly, her breathing steadied and her body went limp. She released the death grip on his hair and her hands drifted up her stomach. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh.
A rich, throaty laugh left her lips. “I forgot how good you are at that.”
His own chuckle caught in his throat, and he crawled over her body. “I’m glad you think so. We’re not done, though.”
She flicked her tongue over her bottom lip and her moist palms landed on his sides. Desire burst in her eyes. She trailed her fingers down his side and to the towel. She worked at the knot and opened the material. Her hand immediately sought his cock and circled it.
Every muscle in his body engaged. She stroked her fingertips lazily over his shaft to his knob and then down again. He dropped to his elbows, his body nestled between her thighs and her teasing hand obliterating his resolve.
He needed to get inside her. Now. As much as he wanted to revel in the sex he’d so desperately craved for the last three years—and that he might not have with her again—he couldn’t hold back. Blood filled his dick, making it throb in warning. He pulled out of her reach.
“Sorry, babe. I can’t wait any longer.”
He guided the head of his cock to her opening, and her arms curled around his neck. He sunk into her, and her slippery insides squeezed around his length.
“Ah, hell.” He coughed as pleasure invaded his senses.
She settled deeper into the mattress and her knees curled against his ribs. She inhaled sharply as he pulled out and then pushed back in, and a choked mewl sounded from her throat.
He forced himself to pull away and searched her face. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, her eyelids half-closed, her mouth lax. “Yes, keep going.”
“Mmm.” He filled her again and buried his face into the soft spot behind her ear. Her arms coiled tighter, dragging him closer, as if she were afraid he’d leave. Ecstasy built behind his lids and his dick swelled with the need for release. He braced his knees on the mattress and stroked deeper into her.
Her hips rose and fell with each thrust and she clung to him. Her body tensed, and she let loose a cry of pleasure. He pumped into her, giving her every inch. Her orgasm spiraled him higher and higher, until he couldn’t hold back another second. His body jerked as he drove into her. His release came crashing down around his ears.
He collapsed on top of her as the last of his cum left his body. He dragged a long breath in and stared at the pink abrasion on her cheek from his beard. Her body wiggled beneath his and a purr rumbled from her throat against his chest.
Holy shit. He hadn’t felt anything that good since . . . the last time he’d been with her.
And there was no way in hell he couldn’t not have her again.
* * *
Dani lay spent, her knee drawn up on a thick, downy pillow, enjoying the feel of the cool cotton sheets over her bare skin. She’d just had sex with Brock. Make that the second round of mind-blowing, erotic, triple-orgasm sex. Lord almighty how in the hell had she forgotten what a sex god he was?
After the first round of lovemaking, they’d devoured their meals, showered, and then tumbled back into the sheets. She’d drifted off for an hour or so and now she lay wide awake.
She should be filled with shame or at least regret for sleeping with her ex. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t in a million years have opened that box again. But this was anything but normal circumstances, and the last two days together had sealed the parted sea of their differences. The stitches remained, though.
Where in the hell do we go from here? And how will we part ways once all this is over?
His chest rose and fell against her back. His thigh meshed with hers and his arm curled protectively around her abdomen. If it weren’t for the occasional scratch of his fingers over his beard, or clearing of his throat, she’d think he were asleep.
“What are you thinking?” His gruff question snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Nothing. Just tired.”
“Liar.”
She scoffed. “You first.”
“I was thinking about you . . . and about us.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again. His voice held no hint of sleep and a pile of warning that deep conversation lay ahead.
“That sounds foreboding.”
His lips brushed over her shoulder and several moments of silence passed. Maybe he wouldn’t delve into the strained territory of their past. Maybe, for tonight, he’d let it be.
“So how about that Vitali heist?” He said the words with a hint of humor, but they slammed into her. So much for that hope. She turned around beneath the covers and faced him. The shadow of hair around his jaw had thickened in the last few hours. The nearly black hair brought out the green in his hazel eyes, and the smile around his lips, which had kissed nearly every inch of her body only hours before, brought her breath to a skidding halt.
Why is he so handsome?
She clamped the sheets over her bare breasts, but the stacked muscle of his forearm still stretched across her ribs. She was much too comfy to put distance between them, but she narrowed her eyes into slits. “You’ve got a lot of nerve bringing that up.”
He tweaked her nose and she glared harder. He bolstered himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. “Yeah, I figured that would rile you. That’s why I gave you multiple orgasms first. Otherwise we both know you’d be chucking something at my head right now.”
She fought the smile that wanted to win over her face. “Something very heavy.”
“Obviously.” He rocked his arm across her midriff. “Come on, hon. Nothing good will come from us not talking about it.”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not sure I have the energy for one of your ‘talks.’” The man knew how to beat a dead horse, which was one of the reasons they’d always had difficulty communicating. She was one to let things die. He had to get his point across over and over.
“Look, I know you don’t want to get back together. I get that. But I hurt you, and the fact that my actions caused you to hate me for this long bothers me.”
“All right, fine. Yeah, I’m pretty pissed about that heist.”
“Because I cut you out of the deal.”
“Yeah. Fifty grand, which you knew I needed to get Sebastian off my back—and Serena’s.”
“You know how dangerous Domenico Vitali was. He raped women for fun. Could you imagine what he’d do if he caught someone who looks like you stealing from him?”
Stealing from the Italian mobster definitely would have been her most dangerous heist—next to the bioterrorism one she’d stumbled into. She remembered Brock’s warnings vividly, but it didn’t matter that his fear for her might have been legitimate. The fact that he’d cut her out without so much as a courtesy call spoke volumes about his priorities.
“So that gave you the right to move up the date of the heist by a week, lie to me about where you were going, and execute the heist without my knowledge? The heist I planned, I might add.”
He grimaced. “My motive was to protect you. I didn’t sa
y I went about it the right way.”
“But that’s what you did.”
“I offered you the money. You know I hated Sebastian and how he guilted you and Serena into doing his dirty work. I never would have left you high and dry.”
“It’s the principle of it, Brock.” They’d had this conversation right after the incident, and pointing out the obvious was beyond redundant. “And don’t act like bringing on James didn’t have anything to do with you cutting me out.”
He stiffened. “Is that what you think? That because I brought him in last minute, I had to give him your share?”
“You must think I’m stupid. We didn’t need him.”
Brock’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “We needed all the manpower we could get on a job of that magnitude.”
She sat up, and the covers spilled to her waist. She snatched them up to her throat and scowled at him. “We had four other people besides us. He convinced you to do the job sooner, didn’t he? Just be honest, for god’s sake.” Her accusations spit out rapid-fire.
Brock rolled onto his back and scrubbed one hand over his forehead. “He didn’t convince me.”
“But?” she insisted.
“But there was a better window that came up sooner.”
“And you jumped on it and decided not to tell me because . . . ?”
He sat up, bringing his face inches from hers. “Because I didn’t want to risk getting caught.”
She glowered at him. “What do you mean?”
“You were so intense then. Don’t you remember how anxious you were? Serena was pushing you to quit stealing, your uncle called you every day for more and more cash because your aunt was in the hospital for one thing or another.”
Emptiness filled her. “You didn’t trust me.”
He cursed and shifted his gaze to the window and then back to her. “I had a bad feeling that you were under too much pressure. Had I known you would have hated me for it and never forgiven me, I never would have done it. I would have scratched the whole fucking gig and never looked back if I’d known I’d lose you.”
She stared at the gold diamond wallpaper and rolled his words around in her head. He curled his arm around her back and rested his chin on her knee.
“Say something, Dani.” The weight of his words, honest and painful, surrounded her.
“It hurts. It hurts that you didn’t confide in me and that you went behind my back. I thought”—she cleared the moisture that clouded her throat—“I thought we were closer than that.” She flicked a tear from the corner of her eye and hoped he hadn’t seen it. The guilt softening his eyes told her he had. “Other than Serena and Peyton, you were my best friend. I lost you that day.”
He growled and pulled her against his chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could take it back and that I hadn’t been so bullheaded back then.”
She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and let him recline on the mattress with her still in his arms. All the anger of the last three years left her body. Tears leaked out of her eyes for the love she so desperately missed. Yes, he’d been wrong to do what he’d done, wrong to not have been honest with her, but maybe she should have tried harder, listened to his apology, and learned to forgive sooner. The well of regret that she’d been digging since the incident began to fill in with peace. She needed him. She needed this. But as much as she wished this meant they could bridge the gap between their differences, the hard truth remained: He was a thief. She was now an international criminal. What was it Rhett had said?
If you survive the next twenty-four hours, you’ll spend the rest of your lives in prison.
A relationship just wasn’t something she could indulge in right now. Instead, she’d take every kiss he gave and prepare for the inevitable devastating catastrophe that would separate them. He kissed the top of her head and drew lazy circles on her back until sleep pulled her into its depths.
CHAPTER 13
Brock pinched the cell phone between his ear and shoulder and moved into the sitting room, closing the pocket door behind him. Dani was still asleep. They’d both gotten eight hours, and right now he could run a marathon. He toyed with the flash drive in his fingers, turning the tiny, catastrophic device between his thumb and forefinger. The line clicked and the long-distance ring sounded in his ear.
He’d missed Rhett’s call an hour ago and hoped to hell he had some insight on the tattoo.
Rhett answered on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Hey, it’s . . . me.” The odds of someone listening in on Rhett’s call were slim, but he couldn’t take any chances. Dani was right—Rhett was the only person in law enforcement they could trust at this point. Two years ago, Rhett had given Milo the opportunity to work as a mole for the FBI and get information on when Alban Moussa had his diamond auction. Thanks to Milo’s work, the FBI had raided Alban’s that night and recovered four million dollars in illegally imported blood diamonds. Rhett had granted Milo immunity from his previous heists, allowing him to walk away from stealing without doing jail time.
“Hey,” Rhett said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “One sec.” A minute passed, and Brock wondered if he’d hung up. “Sorry. I needed to get somewhere secure. Glad to hear you’re still alive. How’s Dani?”
Images of the previous night flashed through Brock’s head. She was well sated, but he sure wasn’t going to tell Rhett that. “She’s good. Sleeping. We didn’t know what to do while we waited to hear from you so we’re in Paris right now. We’re going to try to figure out who’s behind hiring Sven.”
“Look, I think you guys should turn yourselves in. If you go to the US embassy—”
“Hell no.”
Rhett sighed with exasperation. “This isn’t about you anymore. That information you have could wipe out half the fucking planet. The most important thing is to get that formula in safe hands, and turning it over to the authorities will help your case.”
“We can’t trust anyone. A man tried to strangle Dani to death the other night. He was an Interpol agent.”
Silence beat through the phone. “Yeah. I heard about the murdered Interpol guy on the news. I tried to do some digging on what he was doing without turning attention to myself, but I hit a brick wall.”
“Fishy, isn’t it?”
“I agree. But once you’re in the embassy, there’ll be a whole team of people to protect the data.”
“And to possibly leak it. There’s no encryption on this flash drive,” he said, waving it in the air. “Dani copied it from Ubrigg’s computer as if it were a résumé. It’s not safeguarded at all. If there’s one fucking person in that building who’s in on this, we could be handing it over to the terrorists directly.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch.”
“Are you willing to take that chance when we know for certain an Interpol agent was involved?”
“What’s your plan?” Rhett barked, ignoring his question.
“To expose everyone who’s in on this and keep as many innocent people alive in the process as possible.”
“If it’s as intricate as you suspect, the web of accomplices could be endless.”
Brock deposited the flash drive in his jeans and rubbed his hand over the top of his head. “Where are you at with the tattoo?”
Rhett sighed as if he didn’t want to give up the previous topic. “You guys are right. It’s cult related. There’s a group called the Peace Makers, and they seem to do anything but keep the peace, according to the tabloids.”
“A vigilante type of thing?”
“Could be. There’s a lot indicating their views about the overpopulation of the world.” Disdain hung on Rhett’s words. “Another thought is that someone hired them in an attempt to have their circle take the rap so as not to expose who’s really behind this.”
“And that is?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Well, Dani and I plan to. Today.”
“I think you two should lie low. Look
, I’m going to talk to my superior and tell him I have a lead on this. It’s short notice, but maybe I can work with Interpol—at least that way we can get this in the right hands.”
Relief spread through him. Knowing they had someone on their side at Rhett’s level gave Brock’s hope a boost. “Thanks, man. Dani will be happy to hear that.”
“No problem. I sure as hell won’t stand by while some motherfucking extremists try to kill millions of innocent people.” His tone hardened to steel, and Brock felt a glimmer of respect for the guy.
“Also, Milo wants you to call him. Serena saw Dani on the news and is quite upset, from what I gather. I didn’t give him your encrypted number, but he asked for you to call him when you can.”
“All right. I’ll do that now.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
“Rhett,” Brock said. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.” His throat thickened. “If I make it out of this, I’ll buy you a drink.”
Rhett chuckled. “I’ll take you up on that. It’d better be a bottle of something expensive.”
“The best that dirty money can buy.”
Rhett growled. “Ah, shit. You’re lucky we’re after bigger fish right now, otherwise I’d have to open a case on you.” There was a trace of humor in his voice, but Brock knew from what Milo had said that Rhett was an honest agent.
“If liquor is all I need to grease your palms, you’ll be the cheapest cop I’ve paid off.”
Rhett guffawed. “Nice try. You’re a good guy, but if your file ever comes across my desk, don’t expect special treatment.”
Brock snickered. “Glad to see you’re easy to get a rise out of. My file probably won’t cross your desk again after this, so you’re safe to accept a drink from an ex-criminal.”
“Glad to hear that. Keep Dani safe.”
Brock looked at the closed pocket door beyond which Dani slept. Keeping someone with a penchant for trouble safe was easier said than done.
Brock disconnected and immediately called Milo. He answered on the second ring.
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