by Sandra Owens
A garage door opened, and another man with an AK-47 motioned for them to drive into the warehouse. “Not liking this at all,” Alex muttered. He wished he were wired, but they’d decided that would be too risky, and the decision turned out to be a wise one.
After getting out of the car, they were ordered to turn around and put their hands on the roof of the car. With a weapon pointed at them by one of the guards, another frisked them. When the man found the gun in his boot, Alex said, “You take that away from me, dude, we’re gonna have a problem.” The big man stood, giving Alex a smirk. Understandable, since Alex’s one handgun was no match for the AK-47 pointed at his chest.
“Long as it stays where it is, dude, we got no problem.” He moved over to Trina, taking twice as long to frisk her, not that she seemed to mind.
Alex mentally rolled his eyes. A fruitcake had more sense than the woman. The man finished fondling her, moving on to frisk Ramon. The warehouse interior was dimly lit by one lightbulb hanging from a long wire directly overhead, making it difficult to see much past where they stood. Alex sensed they were being watched, though.
Once the guard was satisfied, he picked up the AK-47 he’d placed on the table before searching their bodies. The two gun-toting thugs stepped back behind the table, and from a door on the far wall, a man dressed as if he were on the way to a society ball walked out.
Before he could even see the man’s face, Alex sensed power emitting from the dude. He was big, his long strides were assertive, his broad shoulders were posture perfect, and his chin was held high. Tinted glasses hid his eyes. He stopped just outside the circle of light that the weak bulb gave off.
The man’s gaze traveled from Ramon, to Trina, and then to Alex, staying on him the longest. For the first time since he’d become an FBI agent, working undercover operations, Alex had the urge to squirm. Who the hell was this dude? The mystery man gave a slight nod to one of his men.
“He would like to view the merchandise,” the bodyguard said.
The whole setup was meant to intimidate them, but Alex, feeling ornery, said, “And we’d like to see the money.” That intense gaze focused back on him, but Alex refused to cower. Raising a brow, he stared right back at the man. There was something about him that reminded Alex of James Bond. It was his evening clothes, his arrogance, and his coolness. As much as Alex hated to admit it, the dude was pretty damn cool.
As if highly amused, the man lifted one side of his mouth in the slightest of smiles. He snapped his fingers. From the same door, another man walked out, carrying a silver briefcase. He brought it to the table, opening it. James Bond gave another nod, this one directed at Alex.
“Check it out, Trina,” Alex said, refusing to take the bait. It was obvious by now that Bond wasn’t going to talk. Alex watched as Trina fanned the packs of bills, ignoring the piercing glares coming from Ramon. If Alex had to guess, Ramon was afraid of pissing off James Bond. Too bad.
Trina closed the briefcase. “Good to go.” She flashed Bond a sultry smile. “I’m Trina. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. . . .”
The man bowed, putting his hand over his heart. He nodded to one of his guards.
“Mr. X,” the guard said.
Mr. X? There were rumors of a big-time dealer everyone called Mr. X who operated out of Atlanta. The word was that he controlled the state of Georgia, and if the stories were to be believed, he was looking to expand his operation into Florida. If this was the same man, his being here gave credibility to the rumor. No agency, state or federal, had been able to put a name to him. And if it was the same man, and they were able to take him down, their boss and several bosses above him were going to be very happy.
Damn, Alex couldn’t wait to tell his brothers. He eyed Mr. X. The dude was smooth. He kept his features hidden by the tinted glasses and the shadows, no voice to identify, and no name. And if Alex wasn’t mistaken, the man was wearing an expensive wig. Taylor and Rand would follow him when he left, hopefully learning who he was.
The guard who’d been doing all the talking pointed to the table. “The merchandise.”
Alex opened the back door of Ramon’s car. When both guards aimed their AK-47s at him, he paused. “The bags are in the backseat.” One guard nodded, but both kept their weapons on him. He grabbed the two large totes, handing them to Ramon.
Why hadn’t X simply had one of his men do the deal? Why risk any of them even knowing he existed? Ego? Did he enjoy toying with them? Or maybe he didn’t trust his men with the amount of money and merchandise involved in this deal.
As one of the guards used a kit to test the heroin, Alex kept his gaze pinned on X, memorizing everything he could about the man—mannerisms, build, height, weight. Were his shoulders made broader by pads? Maybe.
Once the heroin was deemed acceptable, X nodded to one of the guards, who picked up the heavy totes with the heroin. X then tipped his hat before walking away, the guard at his side.
“You can go now,” the remaining guard said, motioning at their car with his AK-47.
Court stacked the packs of money from the briefcase on the table. “Six hundred thousand to the penny.”
Alex eyed the money. “Anyone want to go on a shopping spree?” They’d closed up the bar before gathering at their favorite after-hours table, each with a beer.
Court snorted. “Sure. I could use a few new shirts.”
“If you’re going to go to the dark side, have a better reason than new shirts,” Nate said. “Go back over everything again.”
Alex set down his bottle, twirling it in a circle. “Do you want me to start with Trina humping Ramon’s leg?” He narrowed his eyes at Nate. “Oh, right, I did tell you about that. You laughed. You should be more sympathetic to your poor baby brother’s sensibilities.”
“If you’re angling for hazard pay, forget it.” Nate smirked. “I could probably arrange for trauma counseling.”
“She didn’t,” Court said, grinning.
“Oh yeah, she did. I’m gonna have nightmares for a month.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Let’s just skip to us arriving at the warehouse.” After relating the events of the night, he said, “X seemed to treat the whole thing as a game. The word that comes to mind is arrogant. Do you think he’s the Mr. X we’ve been hearing about?”
“If he is, and we manage to arrest him, even the director is going to know your name,” Nate said. “Rand and Taylor will report in as soon as they see where he goes.”
Alex couldn’t care less if the top boss knew who he was. “As long as we keep an eye on the heroin. I don’t like that much being out of our sight.” He wanted this operation over and done with. Although they had no choice but to allow drug deals to happen during an operation, he hated that he played any part in letting that shit hit the streets.
Nate’s phone buzzed, and Alex listened as his brother talked to Taylor. “I’ll notify Rothmire,” Nate said. “Hopefully our SWAT team will get there before they take off. If not, shoot the plane’s tires out, but don’t approach. They’re heavily armed. Stay safe, and you and Rand come to my place as soon as you can. We’ll regroup.”
“Plane?” Alex cocked a brow.
Nate nodded. “Stand by. I need to call Rothmire.”
Rand Stevens leaned his head back on the sofa, closing his eyes on a sigh. “Long night, huh?”
“Truth.” And Alex was ready for it to be over. The other four agents around Nate’s living room seemed to be as tired as he was, if the way they slouched in their seats was any indication. Considering it was three in the morning, no surprise they were beat.
His gaze rested on Taylor, his curiosity caught by the way her eyes turned soft whenever she looked at Nate. She was a beautiful woman, one who, as far as he knew, had no man in her life. He caught the moment Nate met her gaze, and he could almost feel the electricity crackling between them. She blushed, suddenly seeming to find the arm of her chair fascinating. If Alex wasn’t mistaken, that was longing shimmering in his brother’s eyes, and wa
sn’t that interesting?
“SWAT got there about five minutes after we shot out the Lear’s tires,” Taylor said. “They had the plane surrounded and were trying to talk our suspects out when we left.”
Rand peeked open an eye. “Rothmire’s on the scene. He said he’d call when he had something to tell us.”
Just then, Nate’s phone buzzed. “Rothmire,” Nate said, eyeing the screen. They all fell silent, waiting to hear the news. He listened for a few minutes, then his gaze fell on Alex. “I’ll tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Alex said when Nate disconnected.
“That a commendation letter is going in your file. Because of your investigation, we just took down Anatoly Gorelova, a man the Russians call the Ghost. The Ghost is wanted by half the countries in the world, but no one knew who he was. There’s not much he’s not involved in, from drugs, to arms dealing, to assassinations.”
Stunned, Alex stared at Nate. “Holy shit.” Suddenly energized, he sat up. He was actually glad he hadn’t known who Mr. X was when the deal went down. While he’d like to think he could handle anything that came his way, dealing with one of the world’s most wanted on his first lead case might have tested his ability to stay cool. But damn, this would probably be the biggest arrest of his career, and he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.
Court reached over and slapped him on the back. “Way to go, baby brother. You’ll be a legend now.”
Not something he’d aspired to. He’d just been doing his job, but he’d never been more proud to be an FBI agent than he was this night. “I’m surprised he’s talking already.”
Nate shook his head. “He’s not. He lawyered up immediately. One of his men is talking in return for a deal.” He grinned. “Good job, Alex. Damn good job.”
The other agents in the room echoed Nate’s praise, but it was his big brother’s approval that meant the most.
“The bad guys better watch out for the Ghostbuster,” Court said, making everyone laugh.
When the conversation quieted, Nate glanced at Taylor. “One last thing we need to talk about before we can hit the sack. Update us on your interview with Michael Parker’s editor.”
She straightened in her seat. “The editor’s name is Jack Candor. He doesn’t know what Parker was working on, only that Parker told him the story would merit a front-page headline. Parker did make one comment that caused Candor to wonder if the story was hitting close to home. Parker said, and this is a direct quote from Candor, ‘I just hope when the story breaks that I don’t end up in divorce court.’”
From what Alex knew of Madison’s mother, there was only one thing that could refer to. “He was investigating the Alonzos. Madison mentioned that she’s worried about how close her mother is to her twin brother. If Jose or Ramon had anything to do with the hit-and-run, that’s going to crush her . . . Angelina, I mean. I think Madison wouldn’t at all mind seeing handcuffs on those two.” That was his hope, anyway.
Court stood. “I need my bed. There’s some stuff I want to do a search on, but tomorrow when it doesn’t feel like I have a pound of sand in my eyes.” At the door, he gave a wave over his shoulder. “Night, Ghostbuster.”
“Night.” And what a night it had been. Alex was still reeling from the revelation that he’d accidently helped to take down one of the world’s most wanted.
Rand was the next to leave, and Alex followed him out. If it wasn’t so late, he’d go straight to Madison’s, but he doubted she’d appreciate him tapping on her window at this hour. Too bad, because he was now feeling like the Energizer Bunny, ready to go again and again.
As he walked out Nate’s door, he glanced back to see his brother put a hand on Taylor’s arm as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. Alex smiled to himself. He’d not seen that one coming. What was up with his brothers and the women they pretended not to care about?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Madison dropped her clothes in the hamper before stepping into the shower. She and Lauren had spent a few hours after closing reorganizing the stockroom, and she was dirty and sweaty. Alex had texted, saying he was on the way over. She poured shampoo into the palm of her hand and lathered her hair.
A soft knock sounded on the bathroom door right before it opened, and Alex poked his head around the doorframe. “Don’t scream, Mad. I’m coming in.”
She watched through the glass as he quickly stripped, then stepped into the shower with a wicked grin on his face. Her gaze roamed over his muscular body, finally understanding why women in romance novels licked their lips at the sight of their man naked.
“I missed you last night,” she said.
He put his hands on her waist and turned her. “Bet I missed you more, thus the reason I’m here in your shower with you.”
She moaned when he massaged her head. “That feels good. How’d you get in? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Lauren let me in. Put your head under the water so I can rinse the shampoo out.”
A man had never washed her hair before. Actually, she’d never bathed with a man before. It was sexy, and apparently he thought so, too, because he pressed against her back, letting her know he was aroused.
“Did I mention that I missed you?” He poured body soap onto his hands.
“I think I remember you saying something like that.” With his slick hands gliding over her body, she wasn’t sure what she remembered. His fingers brushed across her breasts, raising goose bumps on her skin where he touched her. She leaned her head back on his shoulder again, closing her eyes as his hands roamed over her body, sending a burning need through her. He flattened his palm on her belly, pulling her tight to him.
“I love how warm and soft you feel, Mad.” He angled his head, finding her mouth with his.
With one hand, he toyed with her breasts, teasing her nipples to hard pebbles, while the hand he had on her stomach inched lower. When his fingers slid into her sex, she moaned, getting an answering growl from him. Their tongues tangled as he stroked her with clever fingers.
“Alex,” she whispered, as desire so sharp that it bordered on exquisite pain spiraled through her.
“Come for me, baby.”
As if her body was his to command, her core muscles squeezed around his fingers, and pleasure raced through her. Her knees buckled, refusing to do their job of holding her up, but Alex was there to catch her. His mouth trailed down to her neck, and she felt him smile against her skin. He was damn pleased with himself, but she couldn’t fault him for it. Still struggling to get air back into her lungs, she was pushed against the tile, his large body covering hers.
“I’ll die right here in your shower if I’m not in you this minute,” he said, then sucked on her earlobe.
“Yes, please.” Else she might die right along beside him.
“Don’t move.” He opened the shower door, bent down, and picked up a condom from the floor.
“Pretty sure of yourself,” she teased.
Black eyes smoldering with heat pierced hers. “Hoping.”
“Put that on and come here.”
A wicked grin curved his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
She watched as he unrolled the condom, and when he was sheathed, he stood still for a moment as his gaze roamed over her.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are, Madison.” He lifted a finger and trailed it down the valley of her breasts. “All that beautiful red hair, wet and curling down your back, the drops of water snaking down your body, making your skin glisten . . .” He thumped a fist over his heart. “You slay me right here.”
Was it possible for a person to melt? “I think you’re beautiful, too.” And, God, he was. She wanted to lick up every pearl of water dripping down his perfectly sculpted body. His mouth softened into a smile that made her heart flutter.
He pressed against her, staring down at her. “Let me love you, beautiful girl.”
She nodded.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He wrapped his hands around her upper ar
ms, made a slow slide of his palms down to her hands, and laced their fingers together. The next second, he had her arms lifted over her head, held there by his hard grip.
She sucked in a breath when he took himself in hand and probed her entrance, then made a slow slide up and down her sex. “Want,” she said. “Please, Alex.”
He rested his forehead against hers, letting out a breath that blew warm on her cheeks. “I can’t decide whether to make love to you hard or slow and easy. You decide.”
“Both.”
He laughed. “I might be good, but I’m not that good. Let’s go for hard now, then slow and easy the rest of the night. That work for you?”
She nodded.
“Have I made you speechless, Grasshopper?” Without giving her a chance to answer, he plunged into her.
Madison gasped. The way he filled her, the way he wrapped his big body around hers, making her feel like there was nowhere else she belonged but with him, was like nothing she’d ever felt before. “Not speechless. Touch me. Touch me everywhere.”
“Christ, Mad, I can do that.”
And he did. While he kept her arms captive above her head with the strength of one hand, his other hand explored and caressed her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, and finally, came to rest on her bottom, where he dug his fingers into her skin. Because her hands were held against the tile, and because he’d brought her to a crazed state like he was so talented at doing, she lifted a leg and wrapped it around his thigh, trying to climb him.
“Madison. Damn,” he gasped with his mouth pressed against her ear. He let go of her hands and pulled both of her legs around him so that the only thing holding her up was his body and the wall behind her.
“Now, baby. Now.” His mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue tangling with hers when she parted her lips on a gasp as he thrust into her in a frenzy, their bodies slapping together.
Pinned between Alex and the wall, she could do little more than hold on to him. He lowered his mouth to a nipple, sucking it, then nipping it with his teeth. The water rained down on them, making their overheated bodies slick, and she scraped her teeth across his neck. She curled her fingers into his hair and pulled. “Alex.”
