ROMERO TRIED TO stay calm. He braced his shoulders against the headboard and held Cassidy against his side. She was shivering, the involuntary movement more than she could actually manage on her own at this point.
He reached for the tiny test strips in his field kit. The kit could identify most common drugs or low grade poisons and narcotics. His fear was that these assholes were using something else. And that would require a trip up to DC for Yates to run a full screen in his lab.
Romero had already pricked Cassidy’s finger and put the requisite drop of blood on the strip. Now he was just waiting for the color to turn enough for him to figure out what to do. He hated this sensation of helplessness. That wasn’t like him. He was decisive and to the point. Field assignments didn’t overwhelm him. But he had never been out in the field with someone like Cassidy. He cared far more about her safety and welfare than he’d ever thought possible. His SEAL team members could take care of themselves. They worked together as a group, but he never had the feeling that his entire world was going to end if something happened to one of them. It was a humbling sensation.
His phone trilled on the nightstand. He had come back to Cassidy’s apartment because the place was familiar and somewhat defensible. He already knew that their adversary, whoever it really was, knew where Cassidy lived. Romero almost hoped they’d send someone his way. He would happily take apart the rest of the club personnel if it would put a stop to this whole underground human trafficking ring.
Romero picked up the phone and saw that Yates had responded to his query about the test strip. Yates had been the one to suggest they all start carrying these things in their field kits anyway. Yates was more than just a techno geek. He loved being in the lab. If he hadn’t been such a talented SEAL, he might have made a decent CSI. The guy often joked that his backup career would be in an FBI lab somewhere far beneath Quantico.
“What do you have for me, Yates?” Romero murmured. Then he saw the results and nearly came unglued. Fentanyl? He couldn’t imagine the dosage they must be dispensing in order to get this sort of result. Cassidy was almost totally insensible. How much would these guys have had to give her, and what delivery method had they used? Fentanyl patches were available on the street. The painkilling drug was on the list of narcotics that often got abused, but that was usually in patch form. There was no patch on her body. That meant an injection. Was this how the women were kept compliant? He had a hard time believing that all of the young women taken would just roll over and give up. Rachel wouldn’t have. If they were drugging her over and over, it might go a long way toward explaining what was actually happening. Fentanyl was addictive. Creating addicts created dependents. This was looking worse and worse every second.
Chapter Seventeen
Cassidy felt like Rip Van Winkle. When she finally opened her eyes, she could not have said how long she had slept, or if she had even slept at all. Her brain was fuzzy and her limbs were heavy. At the same time, however, she was experiencing a very pleasant, almost floating feeling that lingered in her muscles. She would have expected to be sore from her trip through the vents at the middle school, and she felt none of that.
“What happened?” she croaked.
Romero was right there. He held a water bottle to her lips and helped her take a few sips. The water felt good on her parched throat. Had she even realized that she was so thirsty? It was almost as if she was out of touch with her whole body. Nothing made any sense.
“Okay.” She mentally plowed through the haze in her mind. “Where are we?”
“Your apartment.”
The expectant expression on his face made her wonder if he was deliberately trying to see what she remembered.
“My apartment,” she murmured slowly. “And how did we get here?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“So obviously they gave you more than just Fentanyl.”
“Wait. What?” A shot of adrenaline surged through her sluggish system. She’d been drugged?
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Romero prodded.
He was still holding her. Had she realized that? He was lying in her bed, propped against her headboard, and she was all curled up beside him like a little cat. It would have been cute if she could remember the last few hours. She tried to rewind her memory. Obviously she recalled the fire. She had gone back for her keys and wallet, and then there was her decision to go bait the bait at the club. She remembered—what was his name—Michael! Yes. The man who took her up to the VIP lounge. Then they’d gone upstairs. He’d given her something to smoke. Then she was fuzzy.
Cassidy took a quick breath, trying to get her bearings. “I remember that Michael guy picking up a joint off a table and telling me to take a hit. I tried not to inhale, but there was so much smoke in the room I’m pretty sure a contact high was inevitable.”
“Then nothing after that?”
“No. I think I must have passed out.”
“Too many things going on here,” Romero muttered. “There were two men at a conference table on the third floor. They both said that you were too much of a liability. They were going to drug you and send you with the next shipment.”
“Of women,” Cassidy murmured. “That’s the only answer. Romero, they really are trafficking in American women.”
“Rachel has been gone for almost a week,” Romero said grimly.
Panic chased away the rest of Cassidy’s lethargy. “That’s long enough for them to get her across international lines!”
“We need more,” Romero muttered. “They talked about a guy they called the Broker. The Broker has determined that DC is the next hunting ground.”
“So is this club closing then?”
“Maybe not closing.” Romero was obviously speculating. “Maybe they keep the clubs open and just use them randomly for other business. So in the meantime, it still seems like a club. Women stop going missing, the drama dies down, and then they can recycle the hunting ground later on.”
“So if we go after the actual owner, he should be able to tell us who this Broker guy is, right?” Cassidy was getting excited. She was done with the game of cat and mouse. She wanted to find Rachel and shut these bastards down!
“Not tonight we’re not.” Romero yawned. “I thought I lost you, Cassidy. You were hanging like a dead woman over my shoulder for nearly a half hour. I carried you out of the club like a corpse. It’s going to take me more than a minute to get over that.”
“Oh really?” She nuzzled his side. “I would think I could get you over it pretty quickly.”
He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. Pressing his nose to her hair, he inhaled deeply. “Nobody smells like you, you know that?”
“It’s just my shampoo,” she explained. “I’m pretty sure a million people use it and smell just like that.”
“Not like you.” He cupped her face, running his thumb over her lower lip. “Nobody will ever be like you.”
What had happened to the tough SEAL who wasn’t bothered by anything? Cassidy could see the vulnerability on display in his eyes. Romero had been shaken by her situation. It was flattering and so much more. This incredible man cared about her. He worried about her. He wanted to keep her safe.
“I’m fine,” she told him softly. “You carried me out of there, and I’m just fine.”
“Next time I might not be around.” He looked grim. “I’m going to put you in bubble wrap and keep you in my pocket. Maybe then I won’t have to worry so much about what’s going to happen.”
“I’d slow you down if you kept me in your pocket,” she suggested. “I’m much more useful if you let me carry my own weight.”
“You’re useful no matter what.”
His lips descended quickly. He covered her mouth with his, sliding his tongue easily between her lips. She made a tiny noise of pleasure. He tasted so good. She felt his tongue rub sexily against hers. The softness of it was delectable. Just that quickly, her sex was w
et and she was ready for him. She wanted him so badly. Maybe it was everything that had happened; maybe it was just Jase. She needed him.
ROMERO HAD RARELY felt anything as powerful as the urge he felt to take Cassidy and make sure that she belonged to him. The woman drove him crazy. He was never going to be able to protect her. And yet he never wanted to be without her either.
He kissed her as though he needed her to live. Wrapping his arms around her body, he dragged her atop him and reveled in the feeling of having her pressed against him. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. She gave a gentle tug, her nails scoring his scalp.
The way she straddled his hips drove him wild. He could feel the heat of her spread sex against the ridge of his erection even through the layers of fabric between them. It wasn’t enough.
Romero rolled Cassidy onto her back. He kissed his way over her jaw and down the graceful curve of her neck. She squirmed a little, moving against him as he touched her. Then he pulled her dress up and over her head. With that barrier gone, he pressed his lips to her bare belly. Her muscles shrank reflexively as she restlessly twisted her hands in the sheets. She was arching her back. The motion pushed her breasts up, making the twin mounds look even more enticing. Still, Romero was drawn to the honey between her legs. He wanted a taste, and he wanted it now.
He placed a kiss just above the waistband of her black panties. She froze. He could practically feel the anticipation building as he slowly drew her underwear off. Once the garment was on the floor with her dress, he nuzzled her mound and inhaled deeply of her feminine scent. She was intoxicating.
“Romero—Jase—Oh my God!”
Then he parted her thighs and settled his shoulders between her legs. He took one look at the soft pink perfection of her pussy and then licked her from the bottom of her opening to the hood of her swollen clit.
She nearly arched up off the bed in response. He did it again, and then again, and then began lapping at her clit as he drove her all the way to her first orgasm. Her whimpers and moans were music to his ears. He loved the sound of her orgasms. She was so damn honest. The perfect taste of her was on his tongue, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back for long. He needed her badly. He needed to be inside her just to prove to himself that she was still with him.
Probing with his tongue, he slipped it inside her opening and gave her a little massage. She began to tremble. Her inner muscles bore down on him, and he felt a spurt of sweet cream, tasting it on his tongue even as she moaned and thrashed against him to beg for more.
“Jase! Please. I need your cock. I need you.”
He would never be able to deny her when she asked like that. He gained a position on his knees and unfastened his pants. His cock spilled eagerly into his hand. He lifted her hips, placing the head of his erection against her opening. Then he gradually slid deep inside her warm heat. The sensation was perfection.
Romero went slowly, savoring the burn as the friction of their bodies created a delightful sensation on the skin of his cock. She was tight and hot, and he knew he would never get enough.
Once he was fully seated within her, he pulled back only to do it again. Out and in, in a rhythm that had them both gasping and crying out with pleasure. He drank in the noises she made. Nothing made him feel better than to hear how much she wanted him. Nobody had ever made him feel like this. It was perfection.
The room was filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together. The scent of sex permeated everything. A fine sheen of sweat covered his skin, and he could see the shine of perspiration on her body as well. They were both so close. He could feel it. His orgasm drew his balls up tight beneath his body. He felt hers in the tightening of her inner muscles. She was locked down on his shaft.
And then, almost before he was ready, the dam burst, and Romero shouted. He thrust hard, feeling her climax hit just as he poured his seed deep into her body. The perfect synchronicity of their movements held him in thrall. He thrust a few more times. He enjoyed each stroke even as she squeezed him so tightly he could barely move. Then once he was spent he collapsed to the mattress. Rolling to his side, he took her with him, his cock still buried in her sweet warmth.
“Jase,” she whispered. “My Jase.”
“Yes.” He couldn’t argue with that. Somewhere down this twisted path, he had become hers completely. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep her safe.
“I belong to you,” she told him, brushing her fingers over his heart. “It all seems so strange and so fast. All I know is what I feel.”
“I feel it too.” He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad or neutral. I only know that it is.”
“I refuse to believe that it could be bad,” she told him stubbornly. “We’ll figure this all out somehow. You’ll see.”
He was trying not to think about what would happen when all of this investigation was over and he had to go back to active duty. He tried not to imagine that he might have to leave her behind. He would never want to, and yet it was inevitable. Sometimes life didn’t cooperate with the plans a man might want to make.
Chapter Eighteen
Romero awoke the following morning to the sound of Cassidy pounding away on her laptop. She was sitting beside him in her little bed, the computer balanced on the tops of her thighs.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled. “You’ve got to be tired.”
“But I couldn’t sleep.” She typed out something else, the keys clicking in quick succession. “So I decided I might as well use the time for something useful.”
“Like?” He rolled to his back and put his forearm over his eyes.
Romero had been on a lot of ops in a lot of bad places. Never had he felt so completely wrung out. This investigation into the disappearance of Trapp’s sister was becoming a mystery without a solution. But he couldn’t allow himself to think about it like that. He had to believe that Rachel was still alive out there somewhere. They were going to find her. They just needed some solid clues.
“So I’ve been digging into property records, right?” Cassidy’s words came out so fast they were almost slurred together. “I found out that the club is owned by John Jacob Mackenzie.”
Romero dropped his arm from his eyes and stared at Cassidy. “Seriously? That’s the guy’s real name?”
“According to the public record at the assessor’s office it is.” She shrugged.
He grunted. “So that’s who owns the building, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he owns the club.”
“According to this it does.” She pulled up something using the mouse pad and then swung the laptop screen around to face him so quickly that he thought he might go cross eyed.
“John Jacob Mackenzie to open new downtown club.” Romero read the bold print at the top of a blog entry dated some ten months ago. “Okay. So we need to find out what this guy knows about the human trafficking operation going on inside his business.” Romero started sorting through possible scenarios for such a reconnaissance mission.
“So maybe we should email him.”
Romero’s brain stalled. “What?”
“Well, we could get his attention, and then maybe we can get an answer.” She looked ready to send her inquiry off into cyberspace.
“No.” Romero struggled to sit up. “That’s a bad idea. Those people already know who you are and where you live. Quite frankly, I’m shocked we haven’t been attacked here in your apartment.”
“Why is that?” she wondered out loud. “I mean, they had my information. I was obviously on their list. The list is within a certain radius of the club. So why not just come knock me off here at home?”
Someone started pounding on the front door of her apartment. The wood shivered and bucked beneath the powerful blows. Cassidy jumped so high that Romero was surprised she didn’t fall off the bed. He was already swinging his legs to the floor and pulling on his pants.
“Do you have t
o tempt fate every single time?” he asked irritably.
“Cassidy Cross!” a low male voice shouted. “We know you’re in there.”
“Don’t say anything,” Romero ordered. “We have to go out through the window.”
“More fire escapes?” she moaned. Fortunately she was already shoving her laptop into a bag. She pulled on her tennis shoes, and he realized she was already dressed in light gray cotton yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She wadded up a set of fresh clothes and added that to her messenger bag, which she slung over her head and settled on her shoulder.
Romero already had his bag packed. He slung that over his shoulder as well. “Let’s go.”
Cassidy wasted no time. The men were beating at her door, obviously kicking it in. She was halfway out the bedroom window on her way to the ladder. Romero darted into the living room from the tiny bedroom. He took a good grip on the couch and shoved it in front of the door just in time. The wood splintered, and the door seemed to fold inward.
Romero sprinted for the window. He got out and slammed it closed behind him. He could see Cassidy far below. She was nearly at street level. Grabbing the ladder, he put his boots on the sides of the metal railings and slid down one level at a time until he was dropping to the ground. He landed in a crouch and sprinted after Cassidy. He just managed to grab her before she barreled around the corner to the front of the building.
“Hey!” She sounded incensed, but he didn’t care.
He swung her around and held her in his embrace as he pressed his back to the side of the building. Seconds later he heard two large men come thundering out the front door and take the stairs in a flying leap. They weren’t saying anything, but Romero got the feeling he and Cassidy were about to get an up close and personal look at these guys.
Shoving her behind his back, he got ready. She had just taken a breath—probably to argue—when the first guy popped around the corner. His face took on a look of total shock. Then Romero grabbed him by the back of his head and yanked down hard. The man’s face smashed against Romero’s knee. There was a sickening crunch as the cartilage in his nose was completely displaced. It gushed blood, but he was completely insensible as Romero tossed him aside like a rag doll.
SEAL INVESTIGATIONS: A 5-Books SEAL Romance Series Page 11
