Bulletproof Princess

by Craig, Alexis D.

  He was back in a flash, sliding across the silky sheets with a devil-may-care grin that set her giggling. Soon they were both chuckling and shushing each other, thus inciting more laughter. The light mood turned serious again as she killed the bedside lamp, then pulled him close enough to scrape her teeth gently against the skin of his neck. His hiss in the dark, and the way his fingers kneaded the skin at her waist, told her she was on the right path. Her teeth and nails embarked on an expedition, to make him as crazy as he’d made her. It seemed only reasonable.

  Mack didn’t allow it for long, and though her thorough examination of every ridge and plane on his body was cut piteously short, he more than made up for it as he stretched out over her. Their hands again laced, her legs spread wide as she accepted him into her. The velvet blackness of the room wrapped around them, cocooning them in this moment. The feel of him inside her, stretching her and filling her as he locked his green eyes on hers was almost too much to bear, and then he began to move.

  Her gasps and groans were muffled by licks and bites on the skin of his neck and shoulders, and while she would have felt bad about the marks she was leaving, the pain only seemed to spur him on. He released her hands, and Cassie’s world spun as he rolled them over while remaining inside her.

  Shoving her hair out of her face from her new perch, she marveled, “Neat trick, Mackenzie.”

  Mack winked at her as he settled his hands on her hips. “I wanted a different view.”

  Swiveling her hips in a tight figure-eight, she loved it when he groaned and bowed beneath her. It was powerful, this pull between them, and she reveled in it as she began to move in earnest, learning what he liked, what made his fingers dig into her flesh, what made his back arch off the bed. Just when she thought she was close to bringing him off, he raised his knees behind her and sat up.

  The intimate new position, sandwiched between the hardness of his chest and legs was intense, made more so by the mischievous look in his eyes. “You didn’t think I was going to do this without you, did you?” he murmured as he shifted beneath her, deep inside her, and his thumb brushed across her clit.

  Like a bolt of electricity arcing through her, she moved into his touch, with his touch, feeling the completion that had been hovering just out of reach come roaring to the forefront of her mind. “So close, so close,” she chanted as she rested her head against his shoulder, riding and grinding against his thrusts.

  “Come for me, Cass…” Mack murmured as his thumb’s crazy circles on her tiny bundle of nerves increased in speed and pressure. “I want to see you fall apart for me.” He moved faster underneath her and she had no illusions that he was going to last much longer. “Please.”

  The plea, uttered on his final thrust into her, set her off, the final lynchpin in an intricate matrix of arousal and abatement, pique and ebb. He held her close, his hand on her hips as his whole body went stiff enough that she feared it would break before wilting back against the jumbled tangle of sheets and pillows.

  Making only the most rudimentary of rearrangements, he stretched out on a pillow while serving as Cassie’s pillow with a sheet somewhat pulled over them.

  “Do you think they heard?” she wondered sleepily. The idea of facing the next day with his friends knowing their every intimate detail was not an idea she relished.

  Mack’s grunted reply was as noncommittal as it was unintelligible. He tilted her face to his and brushed a light kiss across her lips before dropping his head back onto the welcoming softness of the pillow. “Don’t know, and not in the mood to care at the moment.”

  Though the phrase was somewhat dismissive, the way his arms tightened around her as he sighed contentedly more than made up for it. They didn’t have much, but for now, it was enough, and Cassie was okay with that.

  * * *

  Grambling’s phone rattled on his bedside table. Not bothering with the lamp, he just grabbed it and growled, “Are you bleeding?”

  “Primo,” the smooth voice chided in Spanish, “and here I thought you’d be happy to know when I made it into town.”

  His eyes popped open in the darkness, and all thoughts of sleep fled his brain as it locked into gear. “You’re in town? That’s great! When will I see you?” Anyone who may have cause to listen to either of their phones would think it was just a call between a guy and his socially unconventional cousin. In actuality, he was letting Austin know he’d made it to the remote location Daviess managed to dig up. On the map there was nothing out there, no roads, no points of interest, not even a town, but it was the best lead they had, so he’d run with it.

  “I’m thinking after the sun comes up. I called early, but I don’t want to be an ass. I’ll have souvenirs from my trip, too.” The smile in his cousin’s voice would have been unnerving if Grambling didn’t already have a very nonplussed Guillermo breathing down his neck about getting this handled. He was the type of man for whom ‘now’ was never soon enough.

  ‘Souvenirs’ meant proof of job completion, and Austin couldn’t have been happier. “I’ll look forward to them.”

  Chapter 12

  Mack crept out of Cassie’s bed as the sun’s rays began to peek over the mountain. He hated leaving her, all sleep-rumpled and warm wrapped up in the sheets, and had sat on the bed just watching her sweet and untroubled face as she slept. Sleep hadn’t really come to him at all, with the stress of the op and the guilt over giving in again to desires he shouldn’t have had in the first place, he’d just lain there in the dark, content to be her pillow with her tangle of blonde hair occasionally drifting into his face.

  He cared about her, more than he’d meant to, and well beyond what was appropriate, and it wasn’t something he could take back or send away. Cassie was important in his life now, Mack conceded as he gently shut the door between her room and the bathroom. The cold tile against his soles grounded him as he took his pile of discarded clothes back to his room to stuff in his bag once they’d been folded.

  The emptiness he felt when he looked around his old room almost had a flavor in his mouth. This was a place where he was the ‘other’ kid, the discarded one, and even though he’d done his best to remove any trace of himself in there, he could feel that place in his soul like a sore. Conchita made it bearable, and Marisol had, too, for a time, but with Cassie, he felt…lighter. It wasn’t something he wanted to ponder too deeply at the moment because he had things to do. Prepping for an op required his full attention, which was exactly the reason why getting involved with his witness was a horrible idea. However, he was sure there’d be time for recriminations later.

  As the sunlight filled his room, he systematically gathered his things so he’d have less to do once Hinojosa was in custody. As much as he loved his mamita, he wanted to sleep in his own bed tonight. Fortunately, she understood without him having to explain it.

  He was zipping up his bag when there was a soft knock at his bedroom door. Casting a quick glance at the shut bathroom door, he answered it to find Ange awaiting him in the hallway. She looked ready to go with her hair in a braid and a distractingly tight black shirt and jeans. “You okay?”

  “You got time for a cup of coffee?” she asked as she stepped back to allow him out the door.

  “For you? Of course,” he replied as he shut his door behind him. A quick look up and down the hall assured him that they were alone and that Cassie’s door was still closed. Last thing he wanted was an awkward morning after coupled with an awkward hallway meeting with his partner.

  They made their way downstairs to the kitchen where Conchita had left a full pot of coffee on for them and a note on the counter for him. In some ways, it was like he’d never grown up, and while that would have generated friction from the rest of his family, she got a free pass every time.

  With warm mugs in hand and a banana each, they sat across from each other at the breakfast nook. His partner made no secret of her close inspection of him over the rim of her drink.

  “Something on your mind?” he a
sked as he methodically stripped the peel down his banana.

  Ange hummed noncommittally as she shrugged and followed suit, denuding her banana and taking a healthy bite. “So how long have you been sleeping with the princess?”

  He stilled with his mug halfway to his lips, and set it down with deliberate slowness. “I’m sorry?” Somehow he hadn’t imagined she would come out swinging.

  She blinked at him slowly. “I doubt that highly, and I didn’t stutter.”

  Knowing that retreating from the conversation would do no good since she was predisposed to pursuit, he munched his banana thoughtfully as he chose his words. “It’s not just sex.”

  If he’d hoped to take her off guard with his candor, he could see he was mistaken when she smirked as she sat back. With both hands flat on the table in front of her, she cocked her head to the side and looked him over. “Oh, really, Signor Casanova? Do tell.”

  “That’s a little harsh,” he grumbled as he meticulously laid out his spent banana peel on the table. He couldn’t contradict her, though, and knew better than to try.

  “But not untrue,” she fired back as she took his peel and hers to the trash before returning to the table with the carafe of coffee. At the rate they were going, they would need to make more for Eli and Bex. The redhead was a nightmare without coffee. “Since I’ve known you, your longest relationship has been what, a week? Two on the outside?”

  He grunted in reply as he went to the cabinet to begin the coffee-making process. “Your point?” From his peripheral vision, he saw her lithe, black-clad form come to lean against the counter next to him.

  She crossed her arms, and he could practically feel her look of disappointment. “I’m saying she cares about you, for whatever reason. She deserves more than just a semi-convenient part-time fling.”

  Her insinuation had his back up. “How do you know I don’t care about her?” he spat.

  But Ange was unswayed by his vehement declaration. “Don’t try to play me. As long as I’ve known you, your deepest relationship has been with the pool outside. Not to mention the fact that she’s your witness.” Her braid danced as she shook her head. “Mackenzie, really? What are you thinking?”

  Instead of answering her, he concentrated on measuring out the fresh grounds and filling up the filter. “She’s not a witness,” he grumbled under his breath.

  His partner of two years grabbed her forehead with one hand and began massaging her temples vigorously. “She’s not a witness…” She paced away from the counter before stalking back with her hands on her hips and dark eyes full of fire. “I don’t even know what to do with that statement. What do you mean she’s not a witness? She’s been hiding out here under your protection, under you…”

  The last little dig had him slamming the filter well shut hard enough to move the coffee machine across the counter. “All right, that’s enough. She is not technically,” and he drew the word out to make sure the meaning was abundantly clear, “enrolled in the Witness Protection and Security Program. As to the other—”

  “Semantics.” Ange dismissed his argument with a wave of her hand.

  “As to the other,” he ground out, “that is not up for discussion. She’s different, and that conversation is closed. Are we clear?” Before an op was not a time to go picking a fight, but Ange needed to know where he stood, because continuing down that road only led to bad places.

  “Everything okay in here?” Eli asked brightly as he and Bex entered the kitchen in black on black ensembles matching Ange’s.

  Mack flipped on the coffee maker as he eyed his partner. She could lay him bare right there and tell all his secrets, and knowing her like he did, she was definitely pissed enough to do it. He could only hope Cassie and her fate would cross Ange’s mind before she blew his world all the way apart.

  “We’re fine,” she muttered through her teeth as she washed out her mug and left it in the sink.

  Bex’s discerning eye felt like a laser as it passed over him to slide to his partner. “Uh huh. Like vegans and McDonald’s.”

  Ange snorted and punched him in the arm as she walked by him and out of the kitchen. “Nah, just partner squabbles. You know how that goes.” He wasn’t going to contradict her.

  Eli followed her out but raised an eyebrow at him. Hoping to temporarily staunch his friend’s curiosity, Mack shook his head. There’d be plenty of time after the op to go over all of the whys and wherefores of how he and Cassie spent their time in sequestration.

  “So, we’re on our way out.” Eli must have figured he wasn’t going to hear the rest of the story until later and knew they were on a clock. “We’re back in the city in two hours, and another hour to get the teams in place.”

  “We’re gonna have every base covered,” Bex continued, picking up on her husband’s reassuring tone. “I left extra ammo outside your door.”

  Mack gave her his sappiest grin. “You’re always so thoughtful.” Then she, too, slugged him, only in his other arm.

  “We gotta roll.” Ange looked at her watch and then up the stairs before giving him a hard look. “We’ll talk when we get back,” she told Mack as she pulled him into a tight hug.

  “Be safe,” he replied as he returned the hug. They really were like siblings. No matter how much they fought, at the end of the day, they were there for each other. He looked over her shoulder to his friends who’d helped him immeasurably on this case. “You too. I need everybody to come back in one piece.”

  Bex winked at him as she herded everyone out the door. “You got it, chief.”

  For a long time, Mack sat on the bottom step of the house, just staring at the front door after they left. He was mostly alone in the house, and there wasn’t much else for him to do but wait. The adrenaline rush that normally went with a take-down was unusually high, today it was there, but definitely muted. A faint trembling in his limbs as he thought about the journey ahead, the potential dangers ahead. He knew how long it took to make it down the mountain, how long before they were on the interstate, he’d done that particular run more times than he could count. And now, he was caught between wanting this all to be over, and not wanting his time with Cassie to end.

  “Whew!” a slightly accented voice sighed dramatically, startling Mack to his feet. Leaning against the wall just inside the French doors that led out to the pool was a man, not much older than himself. Dark hair and eyes, the man would probably be considered handsome in a tan embroidered polo shirt and jeans, Mack recognized the outfit immediately as the standard stable master’s uniform at the house. What drew all of Mack’s attention immediately, however, was not the concerning attire, but the large semi-automatic handgun the man held on him. “I thought they’d never leave.”

  “You’re… Chuy, I assume?” As casually as he could, Mack dropped his hand to his waist to check for his weapon, and shoved his hand in his pocket trying to mask both his intention and his disappointment.

  The young man’s eyes lit up at the recognition, and a confident smile stretched his lips. “I am, Deputy Jefferson, and I must say, your parents’ house is lovely.” He straightened his whip-thin frame from the wall and sauntered in his direction. “And if you would please take your hand from your pocket and put it at your side, I’d be appreciative.” He gestured with his gun to illustrate.

  Mack complied slowly, concentrating on how the man spoke and moved, looking for a weakness, any weakness, and cursing his complacency that had him unarmed in the house. He knew better. “Sure.” He held his hand out with the palm up.

  Chuy skirted around him outside of his reach and gestured to the living room with his gun. “Let’s go have a seat and talk about this like civilized men.”

  He nodded and resisted the urge to glance up the stairs and give away Cassie’s position, preceding his captor into the formal sitting room. From the look of the guy, he couldn’t have been more than a buck and a half, six feet, with jet black hair he obviously gelled to perfection. Taking a seat at the head of the table, he
gestured for Mack to sit across from him on the couch. “Now, you understand, I’m not here for you.”

  Mack was somewhat taken aback by the hitman’s conversational tone, damn near convivial, even. “And yet I’m the one at gunpoint?” He wasn’t trying to be cheeky, just trying to understand his opponent.

  Chuy waved his hand like he was flitting away a fly. “Details.” Looking around the room with his gun trained on Mack, he seemed impressed with the opulence. “This really is a lovely place. An oasis in the desert.” He paused as if he were reflecting on the accuracy of his analogy. “And I’d have been here sooner, but I had to wait for la vieja to leave. I don’t deal in old women.”

  He nodded, because it seemed important to the gunman that he show gratitude for the small mercy. And he really was grateful, more than the other man could possibly know. “I appreciate that.”

  Chuy smiled brightly at the acknowledgement. “Of course. And then your friends left, which was most convenient, and now…it’s just us. How cozy.”

  Mack kept his silence, not wanting to antagonize the man, who looked completely relaxed and comfortable with his impending job. In a way, he reminded Mack of a very refined psychopath.

  “So…” he trailed off as he looked out into the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. “Where is she?”

  “Where is who?” Playing coy seemed the best way to buy some time, as much as he didn’t like to admit it. He was unarmed and had no cell phone, both of them upstairs in his room, and Cassie would be up any moment now and coming down those stairs. He had to do something.

  Chuy looked downright disappointed at the question, his black eyes hardening. “Pity. I didn’t want to do this the hard way, but if you force me, I certainly will.”

  * * *