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WindSwept Narrows: #23 Molly & Natasha

Page 32

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen


  “Dell...”

  “Payback for that torture, darlin’,” he murmured with a chuckle, taking a long, slow deep tug on her nipple.

  “Oh, god…you enjoyed it…” she scooted forward on the counter, twisting and squeezing the muscles between her thighs. If she angled it just right, the taut seam of her jeans rubbed over her clit and with his mouth tormenting her nipples…

  He heard her breathing hitch and increase as she squirmed and stopped. He raised his head to look at her. He lifted her glasses from her face and set them on the counter. A counter just the right height with his boots on. He popped the snap of her jeans and tugged them down while she stared at him.

  Dell placed her palms on the counter. “Lift,” he ordered gruffly, pulling the jeans from her and down her legs. She wasn’t wearing shoes so they trickled to the floor, ignored.

  “Dell…we’re in the kitchen…” But her weak protest only sent a glint of fire into his gaze.

  “It’s cleanable…” he answered, opening his jeans and shoving them out of the way. A condom came next and he stepped forward, nudging the swollen, wet opening with the head of his cock. “I wanted you at noon…you’ve been branded into me, Tasha,” he thrust his hips forward, his hands holding her just at the edge of the counter. “I missed seeing you at lunch and wanted to be with you when the day ended.”

  Tasha felt her breath catch, his words soft and simple and making her eyes water. She blinked and met the steady gaze watching her. He had stopped moving, his hands sliding up her ribs and freezing beneath each breast.

  “I thought you might want to be alone,” he continued, easing back, his hips the only part of him moving. When she groaned and held her breath, he repeated the motion. “And I wanted to respect that. Give you some time. That maybe the mix of work and us all at once…”

  “Shh…” Tasha leaned forward to cover his mouth with hers, moaning softly and spreading her knees a little more, as if it would make it more accessible than she already was to him. Accessible and hot and pleading. “I didn’t want to dump a couple hours of homework on you…but I had to have it all ready for tomorrow…oh, god…yes…touch me, Dell…please…”

  “Like this?” One palm slid down her stomach, fingers stroking and brushing over the aroused nub. The fingers of his other hand closed around her breast, tweaking and twisting. He felt her body react. Felt a flood of heated moisture pulse around him when he gave that last thrust, slightly upward, slightly deeper.

  “Yes…oh, yes…” Tasha wiggled and pulled in little breaths. So full, she thought when he went still, letting her body clench and grip at him.

  “Babe, you feel too good to deny…”

  They were apex to apex, her arms resting along his shoulders when she let her tongue scrape along his lips, teasing him into a slow, deep kiss.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured in between nips and kisses along his throat, her breath hitching when he started moving, thrusting and withdrawing slowly. “I…I think I was afraid…” she said in a whisper that slid right into a low moan. “Dell…”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” he promised, lowering his head and taking one hard little nipple into his mouth with a bit and a lick that sent hard, pulsing waves around his cock. “I love watching you…your skin turns this gorgeous shade of hot…”

  He could feel her pulse quicken, her breathing as ragged as his own when he continued thrusting in and out. He drew out slowly and pushed back in with a sweep that had his balls tightening. He wanted it to last but then he reminded himself he wasn’t leaving and they had all night and…

  While he was busy rationalizing…even if he wasn’t quite sure what he was rationalizing…her muscles had done that…thing…and took control completely from him in one long, shuddering grip. Her arms tightened around his neck, her chest flat against his and heat exploding with the sharp, inarticulate scream. Tasha thrust herself against him and froze.

  Everything inside her clenched down on him. Clenched and twisted and pulsed until his hands tightened on her ass, one final long thrust and he was a goner. He swore every light in the room went off at once and burst into hot, white glares. His fingers dug into her soft ass, holding on and riding the hot waves of orgasm until he felt his knees shaking.

  “Amazing…never knew it could be so incredible,” Dell murmured against the dampness on her throat. While the inside of her pussy continued tiny pulses and clenches, the rest of her seemed to melt against him. Tiny, gulping pants for air were gradually leveling off.

  “The bed…”

  “Are you gonna fall off the counter if I move?” He asked with a low, husky laugh.

  “Maybe…I hope not…I’d like to believe I have better…I’m not sure what…but then here I sit, buck assed naked on my kitchen counter…so…yeah…not sure…lean me back a little,” she decided to ignore his chuckle and sighed when the strong, warm hands cupped her shoulders and lifted her from his shoulder. “It’s your fault…you melt me.”

  “I’m thinking that’s not a bad thing since my knees are a little wobbly,” Dell told her with a laugh. He stepped away, disposed of the condom and pulled his jeans back up his legs. He was admiring the woman leaning back on her palms on the counter.

  Her breasts seemed to float against her skin, pale and small; deliciously round. She had a small soft spot around her naval, and stretched as she was, the edges of her hips showed. He wondered how many meals she missed because she was caught up in work. He knew he missed some for the same reason, but always seemed to make it up.

  Her knees were still spread, the plumped labia and clit perky as ever. And now his cock was almost back to its demanding state. He groaned and scooped her off the counter, ignoring the startled squeal.

  “The Bed. Before I forget and you end up with counter burn on your pretty ass,” Dell growled, carrying her down the hall and into the bedroom. He tossed her into the center of the bed and quickly undressed. He waited until she returned from the bathroom before tugging her against his chest.

  “God, you make me feel good,” she whispered and kissed him.

  “Then don’t think you’re gonna get out of talking to me, Tasha.”

  “Why would I think that? I don’t mind talking at all…you make me laugh and that’s a good thing,” she assured him with a sigh that mingled into her yawn. “Rumors about you have circulated through the staff. It’s funny…most people are surprised at the idea of me with…well, with you. Probably with anyone, but that I’m used to.”

  “We’re a rumor? Just because the previous males in your life weren’t so bright, isn’t my fault. They’d have found the treasure inside, if they’d only had their heads out of their…” he laughed behind the palm that came up and covered his lips.

  She tried for a stern look but somehow fell more than a little short when she burst into giggles because his tongue began licking her palm. She whipped it back with a glare, rubbing it on the quilt.

  “Eewww…”

  Dell couldn’t stop the laughter or the urge to pull her into his arms. Tangled in blankets and Tasha, he couldn’t think of a better place to be. Ever.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Natasha Banks sat primly in the oh-so very comfortable cushioned chair. It took an awful lot to not wiggle her butt and settle in for a nap. Especially since Dell had wakened her just before six with the most delicious lewd demands upon her person. She sighed and turned it into a hopefully benign smile when the two people on the other side of the desk looked up at her.

  Henry and Christine Fontaine, with the FBI over twenty years. And the secret weapon that Jonathon had handed her in the form of a business card. Networking, her mind shouted. This is how it’s supposed to work in the right world. For good.

  “That was not a bored sigh,” Christine commented with a little knowing smile. She winked at Tasha and turned back to the papers she was reading through.

  “Ben is rarely late for appointments,” Henry looked at the watch on his wrist.
r />   “Unless he gets…unavoidably…detained,” Christine pointed out with a little grimace and a shrug.

  Twenty-Four hours earlier…

  Ben Murphy hated being late. No, he hated other people making him late.

  On his own, he’d manage to make it places on time. But did criminals have a sense of timing? Hell, no. He thought about his last late appoint several weeks ago and groaned as he maneuvered the large burgundy motorcycle through afternoon traffic.

  But he knew it was time. Past time almost.

  The Bureau had recruited him straight out of college. He’d worked cons, scams and investigations undercover since then. That made it twelve years before he’d come to this point. The point where he realized it wouldn’t be at all difficult to shoot some of the scum he was conning and not feel a twinge of regret at it.

  That’s why it was time. He didn’t want to be that person.

  Charlotte Bell stopped in the lobby of the just opened complex for Hunter Cruise Lines and stared. Not that she was unaccustomed to seeing Ben Murphy look like something between a hard rocker and hard biker, but this was a little beyond that.

  There was a jagged tear in the upper arm of his shirt and deep red definitely showed through. His chaps covered a pair of worn jeans and the leather vest flapped open as he ran across the almost empty parking lot. Long, shoulder length brown-black hair hung in not quite straight, shaggy lengths, bangs dipping now and then onto the shaded glasses he wore.

  “Ben?”

  “Charlie?” He came to a halt, barely noticing the casually dressed man in jeans and t-shirt come up behind her, his hand possessively on her waist. He’d heard Charlie had found a good guy through their friend network. Good for her.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I’m fucking late. I hate being late. Idiots and guns…” his head shook dismally, one hand up to yank the glasses free. “Sorry. I have an appointment and I only hope I can apologize enough to get a second shot.”

  “Applying for a position?” Charlie asked with a little grin, her elbow back into the ribs behind her.

  “Security…and you know some idiot had to try and rob a bank when I’m there getting my card replaced from the last undercover deal when I ended up in the middle of the lake…” Ben Murphy exhaled. “Sorry again.”

  “Pretty sure you’ll get a second chance, Ben…” Charlotte turned to the man behind her. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for lunch. I love the new cafeteria,” she went to her toes and kissed him before facing Ben again. “Ben Murphy…my fiancée, Jesse Hunter. Be nice to him, he comes armed,” she told the grinning man before tapping Ben on the arm and striding toward the exit.

  “You…I…Christ…”

  “I’ve had those kind of days, Ben. Besides, you come highly recommended.”

  “I…thank you, sir,” Ben offered his palm. “I don’t make excuses for my behavior and I’m very rarely late for appointments.”

  “I’m guessing the blood on your arm is a pretty convincing alibi.” He took the palm with a strong shake. “Jesse Hunter. If you’re okay, let’s walk and I’ll show you some of the territory while we talk.”

  “I’m good. The EMT’s were on site when the call was made to 9-1-1. A graze that they bandaged together,” Ben explained, quickly launching into the questions he had about the position.

  Present time:

  He glared over his shoulder at the new guards and scrambled for the elevator.

  Why was it when he wanted things to go smoothly, everyone and their fucking uncle stepped into his path to make his life choppy and annoying?

  “Murphy’s law,” the inner voice said with a satanic chuckle.

  His nose twitched. Appreciably. And feminine. He tried for casual and caught sight of the blonde to his left. She had the old Farah Fawcett shag cut, honey blond at the ends and pale champagne over the rest. It hung past her shoulders in loose curls. Her makeup was subtle, light and barely there. Her eyes were a hazel-green that crinkled at the corners when she caught him looking. She smiled.

  He knew he probably smelled like something off the street. Maybe motor oil and street perfume mixed together. But at the moment, the look in her eyes said she didn’t mind.

  He was about to smile back when she winced, a sharp breath drawn in and held when the older man beside her put his mouth next to her ear. Ben saw his lips moving and the instant sorrow in her eyes. Eyes that lost the happy smile as she stared at the floor.

  She had a pretty smile. A light up the room kind of smile, he thought, taking in the large hoop earrings she wore. And he doubted they were fake diamonds. His gaze lowered, taking in her hands. Both of which were empty of rings, with long, slender fingers that gripped a small purse at her waist.

  His judgment wasn’t usually that off. This was the Federal Building. So that meant she was involved in something. She didn’t look like an agent, but then, neither did he most of the time. And the guy gripping her arm was definitely much older than she was. He wondered how much later he could be and did he have the right…

  “She’s way out of your league,” Came the flat tone when the elevator stopped, the older man stepping forward and giving the woman a shrug. “Out, Spring. And remember what you’ve been told.”

  Ben remained silent, his throat clenching when she looked up long enough to spell out help me with her eyes. He let the elevator doors close at the same time his instincts told him he was making the biggest mistake of his life.

  And it was the first time he’d ever ignored his instincts.

  Squaring his shoulders, he told himself saving the world wasn’t his problem. He had enough to deal with in his own little corner of it. He nodded at the receptionist that gestured for him to go through, his hand up and knocking politely on the closed door.

  Tasha looked up at the sound, her legs uncrossing and feet settling flat on the floor. Then her eyes widened behind her glasses in disbelief. Her head spun like it was suddenly detached to the business-perfectly dressed couple behind the desk. When Christine Fontaine smiled broadly, she felt her senses reel.

  “Believe me, Natasha, Ben is much more than he appears. And he’s a perfect match for this undercover assignment,” Henry waited for the door to close. “Ben Murphy, Natasha Banks.”

  “Sorry I’m late. New guards on the entry,” Ben held his hand out to her, frowning at the weak palm she offered. And she jumped slightly when he shook her hand. “They didn’t believe my ID, then pulled me over wanting to know how armed I was…”

  “Oh, dear,” Christine tried to hide her smile and lost.

  “Fortunately, Audrey Keaton arrived at the same time and spared me,” Ben crossed the room and sunk into the chair at the side of the desk.

  “I’m going to take it for granted you read all the information Miss Banks provided to me?” Henry leaned back, hands tented on his lap.

  “Everything,” he looked her over, from prim flat shoes to the small round glasses. “You compiled all this? Including the Utah information?”

  “Yes. It’s my job,” she answered with a little frown.

  “I think Ben will make a perfect foil to the invitation to examine the school, Natasha. And you, his partner, will suit quite nicely,” Christine said as if it had already been discussed.

  “I…what? Me?” She shot upright, perched on the edge of the chair and gaping at the older couple. “Oh…oh, no…” Her head shook so hard her glasses slid to the end of her nose.

  “Her? She’s not an agent,” Ben protested flatly.

  “They already know me! I…kind of…confronted Hamilton and Todd…” Tasha fell back into the chair, her head shaking.

  “By the time my people finish with you, your own mother won’t know you. Some violet contacts and a little hair straightening and a slight color change,” Christine walked casually around the desk, pausing to study. “And definitely some clothing to match Ben’s.”

  “You’re wanting to send a desk girl…”

  “She’d be with you and she alr
eady knows what we’re looking for,” Henry interrupted sharply. “One of the problems I see happening from this, is the connections these people could have in this office. This remains between us and the Assistant DA I work with, Kate Grant.”

  “If these people are doing the things you’ve already documented…” Christine shook her head.

  “I’ve got the warrant,” Henry held up the paperwork and that’s all we need. “I had my secretary call from a phone registered to Candy Barker,” he nodded toward Natasha with a little smile. “You have an appointment tomorrow morning, first thing at nine a.m. for a tour and introduction to the Gifted Academy. Your daughter, Melanie, is already in the system in the local school as having exceptional grades and promise.”

  “You know what to look for as far as records are concerned and I’d be willing to bet you know just how to get past any security that might be on their computers.” Christine nodded when Tasha lowered her gaze to the floor.

  “This is a rush job with a civilian…” Ben pushed a long breath between his lips.

  “If we risk news of this getting out, the kids might vanish,” Tasha said quietly, realizing just how important the whole thing was. She nodded very slowly. “Alright. I understand. I can do this.”

  “You’ll wear a wire and a camera,” Henry told her. “And Ben is very good at his job.”

  “Be back here tomorrow morning at seven, Natasha,” Christine had been making notes. “We’ll have someone to adjust your appearance. Let your friends who might be looking for you, that you’ll be out of touch for a few days. Perhaps as long as a week. I’ve booked you into a hotel near the school and will finish up the necessary papers for you this afternoon.”

 

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