“I would imagine so.” Yates gently brushed his lips against her forehead. “You’re safe with me, Tasha. I’m not going to push anymore. I promise.”
TASHA KNEW THAT. Maybe it was the one reason she actually felt as if she wanted Yates to push. She wanted him to coax her out of her comfort zone. Yet he respected her too much and was too much of a good guy to ever do such a thing. That meant she had to be brave.
“I want to kiss you,” she whispered, feeling unbearably shy.
“What?”
Why did he have to sound so shocked? Was it shocking? “I do.” She reached up and touched his lips. “They’re so soft. I want to kiss you. I want to know what it’s like.”
He didn’t respond. At least, he didn’t say anything. Instead he lowered his face to hers and very softly touched his lips to her own. The contact was shocking. She sucked in an involuntary breath of surprise. His lips were softer than she’d imagined, and the feeling it gave her to kiss him was pleasant. In fact, it was exciting, in a good way. There was no fear and no loathing. This was what she wanted.
“Yates,” she breathed when he pulled back. “Again.”
This time he was more insistent. There was fire behind that kiss. He moved his mouth against hers, gently creating an ebb and flow of sensual exchange that had her all but crawling up his chest to get more. She twisted her fingers in his T-shirt and pressed her body close to his. Her nipples hardened, and she felt the blood rush to her groin as everything below her belly button began to ache with an empty need for fulfillment.
He touched her hair, pushing his fingers gently through the loose locks and cupping her head as he angled her mouth for more. His tongue slid across the seam of her lips until she opened to welcome him in. Their tongues rubbed together as though they were dancing in an erotic performance of love and lust.
Tasha put her arms around Yates’s neck. She rubbed the softness of the short hair on his head and felt the strength of him in every line of his body. This was a man who could keep her safe. He would never buckle, never turn and run, and never sell her out. Yates wasn’t like that. She could trust him.
“Yates?” She took his hand, threading her fingers through his and holding his palm over her breast. “Touch me. Please?”
He gently cupped her breast. His thumb rubbed her nipple through the fabric of her shirt. The light touch was driving her crazy. She arched her back and pushed herself into his hand, loving the contact and wanting more. Then his hand slid down, and he very carefully slipped it beneath her shirt.
The feel of his skin against hers was shockingly erotic. She was still wearing a bra, but she could feel his fingers touching the smooth skin above the satin cups. He traced a line across her chest before very carefully letting his index finger dip below the fabric.
Tasha gasped when he touched her bare nipple. The sensation sent an electric shockwave throughout her body. The feeling was so intense. She couldn’t imagine what it might be like if he were to use his mouth, or to strip her naked and touch her everywhere all at once.
“More,” she panted. “I want more.”
He nudged her onto her back. There was a moment when she wasn’t sure if he would stop. He gazed down into her face as if he were looking for a sign. Anxious to provide one, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. She pulled it off and tossed it aside.
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
“More than anything,” she immediately replied.
Yates lowered his mouth to her chest. The first brush of his lips against the creamy tops of her breasts was almost enough to undo her completely. Tasha put her hands on his head and pulled him closer. He chuckled, low and deep. The sound made her even hotter for him. She wanted this man desperately, without even understanding why.
He sucked and licked her breasts. Gently tugging the cups of her bra down below the fullness of her nipples, he gave each one a tiny kiss before he settled in to feast. His lips and tongue were everywhere. Tasha had never been so eager with any man ever before. Everything he did was amazing. The way he twirled his tongue around her nipple and the way he sucked so hard she thought she might die of the exquisite, pleasurable pain. It was exactly what she needed and yet not enough.
“More,” she whispered. “Touch me, make me come.”
“Tasha,” he rumbled. “Are you sure?”
“Please,” she moaned.
His hand gently touched her belly. He picked apart the button and the zipper before sliding his palm down to her mound. A heavy ache grew between her legs. She squirmed restlessly on the sofa sleeper and tried to give him better access by spreading her thighs farther apart.
He very carefully slipped one finger between her swollen pussy lips. She felt so incredibly needy. There was no way she was going to last. The first brush of his finger against her clit made her shudder as if he’d electrified her. Taking her left nipple into his mouth, he sucked hard and touched her clit once again.
God! It was so damn good! She could hardly believe the sensations whipping through her body. She was trembling, her entire body quivering on the brink of something huge. She felt the tension in her spine and the heat in her legs as molten fire seeped through her veins and suffused her nervous system with pleasure.
Then Yates carefully rubbed her clit with tiny circular motions, and Tasha was done. She climaxed hard. Gasping and shuddering, she gripped his arms until she was sure she’d leave marks in his skin. She arched her back and squeezed her eyes shut as wave after wave of release rolled through her body.
When the tension drained from her muscles, she felt Yates tug his hand free of her pants. She was floating by then. Closing her eyes, she let the sweetness of pure, unadulterated release wash over her. It was perfect, and for now that was all she wanted to think about.
Chapter Ten
Yates knew that logically it was impossible for a man to die from acute arousal. That didn’t stop him from feeling as if he was to that point and beyond. He was incredibly turned on by what he had just experienced with Tasha, and yet he was also supremely satisfied. It felt good to know that she trusted him in spite of her history. And it was flattering as hell to know that she’d been so passionate and responded so honestly to his touch.
He settled her more closely beside him on the thin mattress. She had almost immediately dropped off to sleep after their little interlude. Yates figured between the adrenaline rush of fighting off the cops and then the endorphin rush of her climax, she was probably dead to the world. He didn’t care. He was happy just to lie here and hold her.
The front door opened. Romero and Cassidy slipped inside the apartment and closed the door. Yates immediately cursed the lack of privacy. Fortunately, he and Tasha were both almost completely dressed. He had straightened her clothing after she fallen asleep. He wouldn’t have wanted her to feel unnecessarily exposed.
Romero whispered something to Cassidy, and she disappeared down the hallway, presumably going to the bedroom. Romero pulled up a chair and sat backwards, resting his arms over the ladder-back.
“Well?” Yates prodded in a low voice.
Romero grimaced. “Tonight was a wasted trip. Although, if you take into account the fact that we now know every single guard loop and patrol pattern on the night shift, I suppose you could consider it somewhat worthwhile.”
“Did you get a location on the main office?”
Romero bobbed his head. It was obvious he had something else on his mind.
“What?” Yates said irritably. “I can see the words trying to come out. Just say it.”
“I seem to remember someone telling me that I was being foolish when I first thought about a relationship with Cassidy.”
“I don’t think I used the word ‘foolish’,” Yates argued grouchily. He didn’t like being reminded of that. “Besides, I’m not in a relationship.”
Romero gazed pointedly at Tasha. She had turned in her sleep and had her face pressed to Yates’s chest. “Oh no, not at all
.”
Yates began to extricate himself from Tasha’s arms. He settled her on the mattress and climbed off the sofa sleeper. Gaining his feet, he stretched. He was trying to make the point that it felt good to be out of the physical entanglement, but he didn’t actually feel that way. In truth he wanted to climb back onto the mattress and fall asleep with Tasha in his arms. What was that about?
“Yates,” Romero began quietly. “We’ve been living a very solitary existence for a long time. That would be hard on anyone. Hell. I could never have imagined that I would ever want anything different. Then I met Cassidy, and all of that changed.”
“You’re really walking away from the team?” Yates didn’t know how to feel about this. He’d suspected it of course. Romero had been hinting about it since he’d come to DC. But now Yates was feeling something else. It was almost a sense of—what was that—envy?
“I’m tired of that life.” Romero pursed his lips and tossed his head back as though the answers were written on the ceiling. “You and me, the other guys, we’ve put our asses on the line enough. It burns me that the Navy won’t send Trapp home to search for Rachel on his own. She’s his sister, and yet he’s stuck begging help off his buddies instead of doing this himself. I know it pisses him off. All those years of service don’t get you anything but an early trip in a pine box.”
Yates stared at Romero, feeling as if he’d never really seen him before. “I’ve never heard you so negative.”
“You’d feel this way too if someone told you tomorrow that you had less than twenty-four hours to ship out.” Romero grimaced.
“Did you get a call?” Yates was surprised. He hadn’t received anything. “I just talked to Bones yesterday. He didn’t get a call either.”
“Makes you wonder if your Tasha is right and this situation involves a lot more brass than we’ve realized up until now, hmm?” Romero sounded almost bitter. “I told them I wanted out.”
Yates could hardly wrap his mind around what Romero had just confided. “You actually started the paperwork?”
“Yes.”
“How does Cassidy feel about it?”
“She says it’s my choice and she’ll support me either way.”
Yates had to admit that hearing that from a woman he loved would suck. He glanced reflexively at Tasha. If she had said something similar to him, it would leave a scorch mark that wasn’t likely to fade.
“I feel flattered that she’s willing to wait, and willing to let me make my own choices without being pushy or bitchy about it,” Romero said with a sigh. “But there’s a part of me that wants her to throw a fit and demand I quit.”
“Because it would take some of that responsibility off your shoulders,” Yates guessed.
“Exactly.” Romero put his hands on top of his head. “So now I’m retiring from the Navy. I’m going to be a civilian, and the only thing I keep hoping for is that we will find Rachel before any of that matters.”
“Do you think she’s still alive?” Yates asked. Generally he avoided this topic because he knew it would upset Cassidy.
“Yes.” Romero sounded confident. “What I can’t be certain of is whether or not she’s still in the States. We can’t know that about any of these women.” Romero gestured to Tasha. “Especially not her cases. They’ve been gone a lot longer than Rachel.”
“Then it’s time to step it up and find that money trail.” Yates glanced down at Tasha. She was sleeping soundly. “Tell Cassidy to keep an eye on Tasha, and let’s you and I go have another crack at that pharmaceutical operation.”
Romero cracked a devious smile. “It’s a deal.”
*
Hanson Pharmaceuticals occupied nearly three square blocks of the city’s industrial area. All things considered, DC was a ridiculous place for such an operation. That suggested there was a little bit more to the company’s choice of location for their eastern region distribution center. Like perhaps they were supplying something in particular for a very select set of individuals that helped the company to stay under FDA radar.
Yates and Romero moved as a unit. It was incredibly comfortable to be back in the field with his teammate. There was no talking. Neither of them needed it. Romero had an existing knowledge of the guard patrol routes, thanks to his earlier trip out here, and Yates was happy to follow his lead. There was trust, and that was what mattered most.
The night was inky black with no moon. The air was still and stale. The alleys around the warehouses stank of oil and refuse. As they got closer to the packaging areas Yates caught a hint of a chemical odor. The entire thing was unpleasant and had a depressed feel to it.
Yates and Romero pressed their backs to a wall nearly thirty feet off the ground. They were perched on a catwalk overlooking the alley. The entry point would be a window that was slightly ajar almost ten yards ahead. For now, Romero had indicated that they were waiting for a guard to pass the window on his round. After that they would have fifteen minutes before his route brought him back to this area.
Yates held his breath, listening for the sound of boots on a grated walkway. He didn’t have to wait long. The guard passed, and Romero moved his hand to indicate they needed to move. Now.
The SEALs entered the warehouse, careful to stay quiet. Yates felt his boot catch on the window frame and wrenched his body sideways to avoid tumbling onto the walkway below. Fortunately, he didn’t plummet off the walkway and land on his damn head thirty feet below on the warehouse floor.
Romero touched his shoulder and pointed to a set of windows on the opposite side of the space. Yates nodded. It made some sense that the administrative offices would be high off the warehouse floor. It kept them away from the noise and the smells, and managed not to waste pallet storage space all at the same time.
Suddenly Yates heard voices. He froze, backing himself into a deep shadow at the back of the walkway. Romero did the same. There was nothing to do but wait and see if the men walking in their direction would pass, or if they would have to be dealt with.
“The Broker doesn’t want anything to interfere with the grand reopening of The Hunting Ground this weekend.” The speaker had a deep voice that carried even above the sounds of the packaging operation going on below.
Yates peered into the shadows. He could see two men pacing in his and Romero’s direction. The man who had spoken was taller, broader, and carried himself as though he had full confidence in his own importance. The other man was reedy and tousled, with lank, thinning blond hair and a sallow face.
“Everything is ready,” the reedy man assured his companion. “Tell the Broker that there won’t be any more problems. I can personally guarantee it.”
“You’d better not fail this time.” The first man’s voice was now a growl. “The product was off last time. It nearly killed two percent of the merchandise we picked up in the last location.”
It struck Yates as somewhat odd that the men were very unlikely to realize that they weren’t alone, and yet they were speaking in generalities that divulged nothing in the way of details. Not that Yates really needed them to be more specific. He had enough of the framework to understand that the men were talking about a bad batch of Rohypnol that very likely had been responsible for the near deaths of several women in the Richmond area after their abductions.
“It’s not cost effective to require medical treatment for the merchandise.” The bigger man snorted. “And unfortunately the Broker doesn’t want to risk losing product for no reason. However”—the big man glared hotly at his reedy subordinate—“I’ve been authorized to take the cost of any medical care out of your company profits if it happens again. Understand?”
Yates realized that this reedy little character must oversee the pharmaceutical operations in multiple cities. Was it possible that Hanson Pharmaceuticals was actually just a chain of warehouses that provided product for operations like the one the Broker was running? That was serious. It could mean that they weren’t just talking about a human trafficking operation. They
could be running illegal drugs, chemical warfare agents, product for making dirty bombs, anything. This was bigger than Rachel and getting bigger by the moment.
Romero grabbed Yates’s arm, pressing on it and indicating that they should move farther back into the shadows. Yates complied, holding his breath as the two men passed them by, the bigger one still issuing threats and the reedy one still apologizing profusely for what seemed to be a litany of production problems.
Finally Yates and Romero scooted along toward the offices. Both men moved silently, their boots making no noise. They reached the offices with no more unwanted run-ins. They had to hurry though. The guard’s round would be bringing him back in this direction soon.
Yates pulled a Leatherman from his pocket and used the thin blade to jimmy the door open. The door gave almost immediately, the lock laughably flimsy. Yates and Romero ducked inside and closed the door behind them. Now. If they could just find the first threads of the paper trail, they could start to put the pieces together and hopefully discover a way to bring it all down.
Chapter Eleven
“Do we even want to speculate what they were talking about?” Yates murmured to Romero once they were safely inside the office.
“Well, if we accept that Hanson Pharmaceuticals is…”
“I got that,” Yates interrupted. “So that would mean that this is a lot larger than just Rachel and a human trafficking operation.” Yates grimaced. “I think that’s what I was getting at.”
“You mean that you wanted verification that we’re all pretty much in this shit up to our eyebrows and getting worse by the second?” Romero muttered. He walked to the desk and pulled out a little penlight. He opened the drawers and began rifling through their contents. “Yes. I think you’re exactly right.”
Yates pulled out his phone, ready to take pictures of whatever documents Romero discovered. “How do we find out?”
“About any additional enterprises?” Romero murmured absently. Then he pulled out a huge file. “We could start here.”
SEAL INVESTIGATIONS: A 5-Books SEAL Romance Series Page 22
