by Lisa Hughey
Her lack of faith in his competence crushed his erection faster than the damn freezing water.
Her back stiffened and her neck went tight. “That’s not what I meant,” she said harshly.
She’d seen his stump. Not even with the silicone sock on. Right out there, all red and scarred and below the joint just…gone.
A sick miasma welled up inside him. Even if she’d been contemplating sex earlier, he was pretty sure neither of them would survive the reality of his ugly swollen stump and hideous scars touching her flawless perfection.
And yeah, he hadn’t really considered the logistics of sex either. Unless he was on the bottom, his ability to move would be limited. At least until he got the hang of having only one foot.
The scars were still red and angry. The VA doctors assured him that over time they would fade. He was vain enough that he massaged both shea butter and emu oil on his stump every night. But the IED that had taken his lower leg had also left jagged scars where the shrapnel ripped through his quads and burned his skin.
He wasn’t about to show her weakness by letting on how disturbed he was that she’d seen his scarred stump. His disfigurement was like a train wreck. You were unable to stop staring.
“Well, gawk your fill at the hideous, disfigured mess that used to be my leg.” John hoped his taunt would get her to leave. That she wouldn’t take him up on the challenge. He willed her to run away. “Get it out.”
To his utter and complete surprise, and fucking mortification, she did turn around. He had his arms propped up on the sides of the tub, fists clenched, biceps bulging, because what the hell? But he’d asked for it.
He wasn’t about show her how much he cared if she inspected his leg, his scars. He hated feeling vulnerable. But fuck if he’d let her know.
Her gaze skimmed over his chest and abs, then stopped on his groin, and miraculously he started to get a stiffy. Then her curious gaze finally slid to the hideous reality of his stump.
“Does it hurt?”
He resisted the urge to cross his hands over his dick, cover up and hide. “Every damn day.”
She lifted her gaze to his. Something in there made him pause. Because he didn’t see pity. Or disgust. Or horror. He saw empathy. Understanding. And that sense that her bitchiness was hiding something came back full force.
In that moment, a connection forged between them. A bond, a thin skein of awareness unfurled and reached between them, like a vine twisting around them, twining them together in unity, solidarity.
“Not everyone’s scars are visible,” she murmured. Then she walked out, closing the bedroom door very, very quietly.
And he wondered…what the hell just happened?
Holy Mary Mother of God.
Rissa stepped back into the living room area and tried to get her heart rate to settle. She had never had such an intense physical reaction to a man. His body was a work of art. The single band of tattooed flowers around his left biceps, the hard planes of his chest, the rippled eight pack, and strong muscular thighs dusted with dark hair.
A nest of darker black curls cradled his cock, which based on the frigidity of that water should have been the size of a pencil, instead the thick stalk that lay against his groin was impressive.
She swallowed, her throat parched, and envisioned his cock fully erect. The picture caused her breath to catch as she imagined the pleasure of taking him in her mouth. Her nipples ached and her core primed. Damn, it had been way too long since she’d had sex. And now she wanted….
Oh, bad, bad idea, Rissa.
She might not be damaged on the outside like John but she was clearly the more messed up mentally. She’d nearly jumped out of her skin on the balcony when his chair screeched against the cement.
Rissa had been battling her internal demons for over two years. And they pretty much hadn’t gotten any better. She was a fucking basket case. Her memories rose up at odd times and punched her in the gut. Rissa had to keep her focus on the job.
The insane, off-the-hook attraction that sizzled between her and John was off-limits.
No, the lust was not one sided.
Even if it had been a while since she’d seen a penis up close and personal, she knew that water that ice cold should have rendered him completely flaccid but he’d been aroused. As if their bodies were in complete and utter synchronicity, their pheromones demanded satisfaction, overruling their brains.
She couldn’t afford to be distracted by the totally swoon-worthy ex-Marine. She needed to get her head firmly back on the mission. She was as jumpy as a kid home alone, watching a scary movie. If she was this jittery she could only imagine how Maria was feeling. Admiration for all that the younger woman had endured and overcome would sneak up and hit Rissa at odd times.
Maria, and her friends, deserved nothing less than Rissa’s full effort.
“Everything okay?” Maria stood in the small but functional kitchen, her hands linked in prayer position. Her fingers were red, and if Rissa wasn’t mistaken she’d been twisting them. Worry darkened Maria’s striking eyes and her thick lustrous ebony hair curved around her smooth unblemished cheeks.
“Yes.” Rissa wanted to put her hand on Maria’s shoulder. Give her some comfort but she knew the woman was still hesitant about being touched by people. Instead she gave the woman her most confident smile. “My mistake. He’s fine.”
Maria’s shoulders relaxed. “Good.”
Rissa felt compelled reiterate to Maria. “You know you don’t have to be here.”
“They need to pay,” Maria said fiercely.
Rissa had nothing but the utmost respect for this woman. She’d survived years of captivity, trapped in the basement of an abandoned house, her only contact with the outside world a weekly grocery delivery.
Maria had rescued herself. Escaped, and then committed to taking down the man responsible for her kidnapping. Unfortunately in this story, Maria was the lucky one.
But now they had a lead on the two missing girls.
They might have been absorbed into a trafficking network. They might be working girls. Might. Might. Might. So many unknowns.
What they did know? José Fernandez had become a champion of the migrant community.
His crusade had brought attention to the disparities between what happened when girls of color were kidnapped versus white children.
And it had all been a lie.
Not the inequality in attention of course but everything else he’d basically engineered to further his own cause. He’d sputtered and denied the horror of that crime when they’d accused him of selling the girls. He was a man of honor. He hadn’t taken a dime.
Rissa wanted to howl in frustration. As if not taking any money had made it acceptable. He’d taken only their freedom, their choice, and their futures.
The only way Sophia and Graciela would get back the rest of their lives was if Rissa and John could find them, and save them. She hadn’t been able to save her partner. The thought that she could be a savior twisted her stomach. Because this was one mission she couldn’t afford to fail.
“We will do everything we can to make it happen,” Rissa said.
Maria glanced at the closed door to John’s room. Her face was a blank mask and Rissa wondered what Maria was thinking.
“I need—” Maria stopped, swallowed. “I need to find them. Help them.” The expression on her face was fierce. “No one deserves what happened to us.”
“You know it will take time.” She didn’t want to give Maria false hope. And she also didn’t want to lie and tell her everything was going to be hunky-dory if—when—they found the girls. Because they’d been gone for eight years. Rissa shuddered.
Rissa let shame roll through her. Of course Maria knew. Her ordeal hadn’t been a piece of cake. A sudden thought struck Rissa. “What about after?”
“After what?”
Maria had spent the past eight years working toward escape. “What did you think about the future after you escaped?”
>
Maria shrugged.
“You didn’t dream of anything?” Rissa knew what her dreams were. She wanted to get back to herself. Get back to the way she was.
“You can’t hope.” Maria’s words were quiet, broken. “It’s all about one day at a time.”
Rissa couldn’t imagine. All she did was live for the future. When she was back. When she wasn’t afraid anymore. When her life would return to normal.
Adams-Larsen might be able to help Maria. They had a psychologist on staff who talked to their clients about leaving everything behind. How to look to the future instead of wallowing in the past.
Even though Maria didn’t need to disappear, maybe Adams-Larsen could help her transition into her new life.
And the more she examined the idea, the more she loved it. “Think about what you want to do with your life next.”
Maria nodded but her vacant glazed eyes told Rissa that she was still just holding on to today. She couldn’t yet think about the future.
But she needed to give Maria that. She deserved a future. “You are extraordinary,” Rissa said.
“No, I’m not.” Maria shook her head, so distressed that Rissa was tempted to back off. Except she couldn’t. Maria deserved nothing less than her best. Nothing less than success.
Rissa and John would give Maria Torres her future. She deserved it.
She wanted to tell her so but Maria hadn’t had a lot of experience trusting people. Rissa knew she trusted Jack and Bliss, and Connor and Ava. Sort of. But that was about it.
“I know you don’t know me.”
Maria’s hands fluttered before resting at her sides. As if she wanted to draw as little attention to herself as possible.
“But I see you.” In her own way, Rissa was as lost as Maria. She just hid it better.
That’s where she needed to keep her head. Protecting Maria Torres. Finding the man who’d stolen Maria’s friends. Finding her confidence back in the field. She had to put aside her fears to help Maria.
That’s what she needed to focus on.
Making things right for Maria. Because she deserved closure. She deserved to look to the future. Rissa would find a way to give Maria hope. To fix Maria Torres’s world.
That was what was important. Not the enigmatic, intriguing, compelling man in the other room. Who terrified her on a whole other level.
But she glanced back at the closed door of his bedroom one last time. And wished they were both whole.
Chapter 4
John nearly swallowed his tongue.
He sure as hell couldn’t speak. Rissa was hotter than summer in Vegas.
Of course, he’d known she was stunning. She had that sexy, sultry style even dressed in mannish pants and a boring button-down shirt. Right now she had on the ultimate little black dress: wide strips of black fabric alternated with strips of black mesh, crossed in a revealing V, highlighting an even more spectacular rack than he’d believed existed earlier beneath that simple white cotton blouse. The concealing and revealing strips let the observer play peek-a-boo with her skin.
Her arms were bare, sleekly toned and lightly tanned, shimmering with some sort of glittery powder. That stunning upper body tapered to her trim waist and down to the generous curve of her hips.
She had curves.
Lots of feminine curves that would be perfect handfuls no matter where he put them, her breasts, her hips, her ass.
He pulled at the cuffs of his tailored suit and stretched his neck from side to side. Of course he was used to wearing his dress uniform for formal functions, so he wasn’t completely out of his element, but he heartily preferred his worn cotton T-shirts and cammies to the tighter, more confining cut of a fancy suit.
“You look…” hot, sexy, completely out of my league “…nice,” he finished lamely.
She scowled.
Ooookay. Of course, what was he thinking? This wasn’t a date.
“You too” was all she said. Then she pivoted sharply, in a maneuver his training instructor would have applauded, toward the door. John mentally sighed. BB was back.
A knock sounded and saved him from shooting off his mouth and saying something snarky. He needed to just suck it up and play nice. Because the more time he spent thinking about this case, the more he grasped that he wanted the opportunity to work with his family.
His sister, Jess, and boyfriend Colin delivered aid to an earthquake ravaged country. Brother, Riley, and Di brought books to the impoverished schools in the Philippines. Jack, Bliss, Connor and Ava, along with Stone Consulting, helped Maria. Now the family was searching for Maria’s friends. Even stepmom Shelley was actively involved in the food bank. John wanted to be a part of making a measurable difference in people’s lives.
Rissa peered through the peephole and then let out a squee.
She yanked the door open, tugged Bliss Lee into the their suite, and wrapped her in a quick embrace. “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you.”
His brother Jack followed close behind his fiancée. Bliss’s half Asian heritage was evident in the exotic tilt of her green eyes and her half Irish in the burnished auburn of her hair.
“You too.” Bliss squeezed her friend tight. Then she held on to Rissa’s elbows and leaned back, skimmed over her. “You doing okay?”
John frowned. There was a note of concern in Bliss’s voice. It wasn’t a general question. What was that about?
Rissa laughed jerkily. “My feet are already killing me,” she deflected.
Bliss was concentrating on Rissa like she wanted to say something else.
Jack stole John’s attention when he wrapped his arms around his shoulders and clapped him on the back in a typical man hug. “Hey, man.”
John cleared his throat. “Hey.” Then he backed away.
A large smile wreathed Bliss’s face. “John!”
She hustled over and gave him a hug. John stood still in her affectionate embrace, then awkwardly patted her before dropping his hands to his sides. He was still a little uncertain with his siblings’ partners. Not that they’d made him feel anything but welcome, but still the physical affection they tended to bestow on him was disconcerting.
“You two ready to hit the club?” Bliss studied them both. “You look good together.”
Bliss put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the right. She stepped up to John and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his blue button-down shirt and pulled the material open. She patted his chest. “Better.”
She eyed Rissa. “Riss, that dress is hot.”
A flush blossomed over Rissa’s bare collarbone, sped up her neck, and edged toward her hairline. “Thanks.” She’d tilted her head so that the curtain of her hair hid her eyes for a moment.
John swallowed. He was going to have to concentrate hard at the club and keep his attention on finding the women and not on his companion.
“Maria is in the shower,” Rissa said softly. “But she knows you’re coming.”
John patted the breast pocket of his suit coat. “I’ve got the age progression photos of Sophia and Graciela.”
Jack handed John a wallet with ID and credit cards. “Con got you set up with the cover identities we discussed yesterday. They will withstand a minimal background check and quick Google search tonight. We’ve got our new tech person working on building a more comprehensive dossier.”
Nice. Jack must have had the basics of their cover in place before they’d even arrived in Vegas. There’s no way he could have gotten the information integrated into search engines and databases in the few hours since John had called him to let him know that he and Rissa were going to the strip club.
Bliss glanced curiously between the two of them. “What’s your cover?”
“We’re an adventurous couple on the prowl for a threesome,” Rissa said huskily. She had a faint blush on her high shimmering cheekbones. “Preferably Latina.”
Bliss sobered. “God, those poor girls. We need to find them.”
Everyone nodded
.
“Are you armed?” Bliss asked.
John said, “Not this time. Strictly reconnaissance and information gathering.”
Rissa was shaking her head vehemently.
“Good,” Bliss replied. She wrapped one arm around Rissa’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’ll do great.”
What the hell was that all about?
“J, can I talk to you for a sec.” Jack gestured to the slightly offset living room and distracted him.
“Sure.” He followed Jack until they were separated enough to have a private conversation. It was then that John noticed the strain around Jack’s eyes. Whenever he wondered if he really was related to the Stones all he had to do was look in the mirror. He had the same shape eyes as Jack, Riley, and Jess. “What’s up?”
Jack hesitated before shooting a furtive glance at his bride to be. What was going on?
“I’m counting on you to handle this while I focus on a few other things.”
They’d had a variation of this convo before. He knew about Jack’s secret mission. Oddly, John was the only one of their siblings who Jack had confided in. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I want justice for Maria. And her friends.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Jack had retired from the Navy on his own. No disability hovering over his head to force him into making a choice he wasn’t ready to make.
John had worked through the rage and injustice of his injury after months of therapy. “It’s not like I’m not getting something out of it too. I’m grateful for the opportunity to do something worthwhile.”
It might not be saving entire villages. Or keeping his country safe. But at least he had the chance to save women who didn’t deserve what happened to them.
Jack was silent for a moment. “I’m really glad you decided to ring our doorbell.”
John wanted to break the fraught moment but his throat was crowded with the same emotion shining from Jack’s eyes. And it was hella uncomfortable. He was a guy. A guy used to not sharing his emotions. Thankfully, Jack switched subjects.
“Shelley is getting some odd attention,” Jack finally said, rubbing the white scar that bisected his thick eyebrow with his thumb.
