Caitlin was using those prints to do a search of her own against a larger, more classified database with a couple of modified input parameters to widen the search to individuals other than Zach Jamison in case the name was an alias. Travis’s wife had been shoveling food in her mouth as they waited, much to Porter’s annoyance. Clearly, the admiral was old school and didn’t want anyone eating in the command center.
Gabe stuck his head out of the command room to briefly check on Beatrice. She just received a call from Senator Mendoza who received a visit from the MPD detectives. Judging from Beatrice’s face, she was trying to make the senator feel better for unleashing Zach Jamison on her. Neither the MPD nor the senator knew of her torture at the hands of the motherfucker. The truth would open a whole line of questioning that could compromise what the admiral was working on. Until Porter and his covert team could shut down Redrook, they had to keep their intel under wraps. All the senator and the MPD knew was Zach Jamison had snapped and attacked Beatrice. Tough sell to the senator since Zach had apparently worked for a former friend of his and came highly recommended.
Gabe stood beside Porter. “Hundred bucks says that the senator’s former Chief of Staff was murdered and didn’t die from a heart attack.”
“Short of exhuming the body, we couldn’t prove it,” the admiral said. “But I’m going with your hunch. You did say Hybernabis could mimic a heart attack in those with pre-existing conditions.”
“Correct.”
Caitlin gave a whoop that made the admiral and Gabe switch their attentions to her.
“Found anything?” Porter asked.
“I’ve kept an open-match algorithm against Philip Crowe’s records, including both living and deceased people,” Caitlin said. “The fingerprints bear a 91% match against Zacharia Alvarez. Deceased. Car accident.” She shook her head and added derisively. “Sounds like a common cause of faked deaths. Anyway, Alvarez and Crowe were in the same college together until the second year when Alvarez supposedly died. They were both computer science majors. Crowe dropped out to join the Army soon after his death.”
“Let me guess, Alvarez is Colombian?” Gabe asked.
“Irish-Colombian. That’s why it’s hard to tag his ethnicity.”
“So Zacharia Alvarez becomes Zach Jamison.”
“You think Crowe and Alvarez were acquainted with each other? Going to the same college and sharing the same major would assure they’d at least moved in the same circles.”
“Hacking into school records now,” Caitlin announced. It took maybe fifteen minutes for her to find what she was looking for, oblivious that he and Porter were looking over her shoulders. She zoned them out. By this time, Travis had quietly entered the room. “Yep, they belong to the same fraternity and . . .” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Um . . . Yeah, they know each other.” Caitlin’s eyes angled toward the three men in the room. “Does someone get the vibe that they’re more than just friends?”
All three men shifted uncomfortably. There were several pictures of Crowe and Alvarez in rather compromising positions. The images were faded, probably over fifteen years ago.
“Aren’t those pics too racy for fraternity websites?” Gabe asked. “You’d have thought with Zach’s new identity, they’d have erased every trace of him.”
“I’m not on a fraternity website,” Caitlin said. “That had been sanitized. I went to one of their former frat brother’s micro-blogging site. That’s where you’ll find interesting pictures. Get Doug in here, let’s get his opinion.”
Gabe was trying not to chuckle as Travis left the room to get Doug. Beatrice returned with her assistant.
“Oh, my,” Beatrice said. “That explains a lot, doesn’t it, Doug?”
“Oh, yeah,” her assistant replied, eyes wide on the screen. Doug looked at everyone in the room. “There’s something between those two all right.”
“If he and Crowe continued to be lovers, that would explain his hatred against you, Admiral,” Caitlin said.
There was silence in the room as everyone absorbed the motive. It made perfect sense, Gabe realized. Although a lover’s revenge seemed to be simply the tip of the iceberg because everything had been set into motion long before Porter had shot and killed Philip Crowe. This meant Zach Jamison had been recruited to be a sleeper agent, meant to infiltrate the political system and keep the CIA apprised of its schemes, totally clandestine and not sanctioned by the U.S. government.
“You think Zach is bi?” Beatrice asked suddenly.
“Now why the fuck would you think that?” Gabe asked.
“Well, he’s been trying to ask me on a date,” Beatrice explained. “But he reserved his goo-goo eyes for Doug and Nate.”
“Nate?” Travis asked in amusement.
“By the way, where is Nate?” Caitlin asked.
“The senator called him to his office, probably to apologize,” Doug replied.
“This late?” Beatrice asked.
Doug shrugged. With the loss of his Chief of Staff, burning the midnight oil at the senate office wouldn’t be surprising.
“Okay, let’s get back on point here,” Porter interrupted. “Caitlin, we can focus on Zach Jamison. See how he moved through the ranks to become Chief of Staff for a United States senator.”
“That’s easy,” Caitlin said. “Pretty much public record. He switched his major to Political Science and graduated with honors from Miami University. Everything before that time was definitely fabricated. He worked as an aide for a state senator before he worked as the Director of External Affairs and then the Chief of Staff of the Florida governor.”
“Wasn’t there some scandal surrounding the governor?”
“Yes, for federal corruption charges. Senator Mendoza was good friends with the governor and stood by his side despite the accusations. So the senator had known Jamison a while before hiring him.”
“Man, that blows,” Travis said.
“Are we sure the senator is innocent?” Gabe asked.
“Now that’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question,” Caitlin piped in.
“Criminy,” Beatrice muttered, “if he’s dirty, I quit. I really like the man.”
“I’ve known Mendoza for years, followed his career. He’s legit,” Porter said. “Of course, as we all know, nothing is as it seems.”
“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” Beatrice groused.
The admiral chuckled and planted a kiss on Beatrice’s forehead. “I gotta go, baby. I need to keep another team apprised.”
“So when are we going to meet this A-team of yours?” Gabe asked darkly.
“Jealous, Commander?” Porter asked; his eyes held some wiliness Gabe didn’t trust.
“No. But I sure want to get my hands on Zach and this Redrook guy,” Gabe shot back. “Don’t want to miss all the fun.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” the admiral answered enigmatically.
*****
“Stay the fuck away from her!”
Beatrice’s eyes snapped open, her heart in her throat, pounding wildly. Gabe thrashed beside her.
“Beatrice, God, no!”
He was dreaming or having a nightmare.
“Gabe,” she whispered. Beatrice made the mistake of touching him and found her wrist gripped painfully as she was flipped over him and then under him. A hand squeezed her neck.
“Gabe!” she choked out, her concern morphing to fear as he straddled her, his dead weight pinning her legs to the mattress.
“Beatrice?” The hand on her throat slackened and moved to cup her face. “Oh, fuck.” His other hand skimmed her body as if checking for injuries. “Did I hurt you, babe? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“I’m okay. Just, um . . . surprised.”
He rested his forehead on hers. “I’m so sorry. I . . . I . . . frightened you. Maybe I should sleep on the floor.” He pulled back and linked his hands with hers, drawing them together and kissing the back of her fingers. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“Gabe,
it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have woken you that way when you were already agitated in your sleep.” She heard him curse softly and looked to the side. “It was about me, wasn’t it? I heard you call out my name.”
He nodded jerkily. His weight left hers, shifting to sit on the side of the bed. He hunched over, elbows on his knees, head bowed.
“I can’t decompress,” Gabe admitted. “My nerves are wound so tight right now. I just”—he exhaled harshly—“just keep replaying everything in my head, searching if there was a way I could have kept you away from those motherfuckers. Did I miss any signs?”
“Stop. It was beyond your control, Gabe.” Beatrice knee-crawled across the bed, and sat on her heels. “You need to move on from this, so I can, too. Please?”
He tilted his head in her direction, not quite looking at her. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I need some air.” He quickly rose and ordered Rhino to stay when the dog moved to follow him. He left the room, his body rigid with tension. Beatrice knew he was going to visit the wall outside again.
She got off the bed and grabbed a robe to wrap around her body. She found him pacing the darkness of the back patio. He must have turned off the motion sensor lights. Beatrice watched his silhouette through the window for a while. Every now and then he would pause in front of the wall as if contemplating what to do, and then he’d resume his prowl across the patio over and over. Minutes passed. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. He was in agony over her, and her heart ached to comfort him.
She opened the door. He continued pacing; he knew she had been watching him.
“Go away, Beatrice.”
“Gabe—”
“Stay the fuck away from me.” His voice was so harsh, she flinched.
“No!” Beatrice shivered in the cold, wrapping her arms around herself. “You can’t let everything that happens to me get to you this way.”
“Not your fucking problem. I’m trying to deal with it,” Gabe growled. “But you have to stay the FUCK away.”
“Why?”
“Beatrice, I’m begging you.” A guttural sound grated at the back of his throat. “Get back upstairs. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“When? After you’ve hurt yourself again?” Her teeth chattered; a tremor rippled through her. Why Gabe thought this frigid February air was mind-clearing didn’t compute. However, she would rather turn into an icicle before she’d allow him to stew and kick himself for what Zach and this Redrook guy did to her.
He cursed softly and dragged her into him, rubbing her arms briskly to get her warm. “It’s freezing out here, babe.”
“So come inside. We can talk, stay up. You can make me hot cocoa.”
His mouth skimmed the side of her cheeks; his breathing turned ragged. Hands that were meant to warm her from the chill emanated a different kind of heat. Their contact was still elemental, but the caresses turned sensual, teasing, arousing. A groan escaped him. “I need to be inside you.”
A frisson of unspoken need sparked between them, kindling the beginnings of desire. Her core swelled and pulsed.
His mouth played along the edges of her lips. “Tell me if it’s okay.”
“You want to fuck me?” Beatrice asked breathlessly, gasping when the back of his fingers brushed between her legs.
“Yes.” He pressed her against the wall; a finger worked through her panties and stroked her slit.
“Out here?”
“Yes,” he snarled softly.
“Cameras.”
“I’ll take care of it, and it’s too dark,” he muttered. “Last chance, Beatrice. Tell me to stop. Either get out of here, or be prepared to get fucked. Hard.”
A finger plunged inside her, causing her to inhale sharply. He wasn’t kissing her. His face was millimeters from hers and the warm air fanning her cheeks reminded her of a predator sniffing his prey. It was . . . exhilarating. The kindling fire of lust was quickly turning into an out of control inferno.
She grabbed the back of his head to close the distance between their lips. He growled low, their mouths smashing into each other. Their kisses were hot, frantic and desperate. His fingers left her pussy to work between them, pushing his pajama bottoms down to free his cock, then returned to get at her panties.
“Hold on to me,” Gabe muttered. “Watch your arms.”
That took her out of her sensual haze for a second, her chest filling with the knowledge that even when they were driven by primitive instincts, he was still careful with her. But she wanted to be fucked with abandon, needed it.
He kissed her again, his hands gripping her ass to boost her. She responded by wrapping her legs around his hips, wedging him between her thighs. She could feel the blunt head of his cock slipping through her folds and prodding her slick entrance. He powered his hips forward, thrust fiercely into her, and grunted as he impaled her with his hard, thick length.
Beatrice felt her body shudder with each upthrust, his cock stretching her inner walls with each delicious slide, her clit rubbing against his hardness. Her skin was on fire, and she felt more alive than she’d been in days.
“Please, Gabe, I need it . . .” Her body hummed along the edges of fulfillment and she was greedy enough to demand it. “Harder . . . Oh, please.”
“You got it, babe,” Gabe growled by her ear. “Fuckin’ you until you scream.” Shifting his arms under her thighs, he plowed into her without mercy. Even as the rough wall abraded her back, she didn’t care. Her nerve endings were electric, the current seizing her body until it coalesced into pulsing sensations in her core.
“Gabe!” she screamed as light exploded behind her eyes. She grabbed his hair; he grunted in response and relentlessly pounded into her like a runaway piston. She was raw, full of Gabe, and alive. That was all that mattered.
“Ah, fuck . . . fuck . . .” he groaned, convulsing against her. His arms shook as the spasms hit him. Warmth filled her core, his cum spilling inside her. He uttered a feral sound as she clenched her pussy on his cock.
“Take it all. Take it all, babe . . . ah fuck!” A palm slapped the wall beside her head, and his chest collapsed against hers as his release tore through him. His heartbeat hammered against hers, their harsh breaths mingled. Slowly, the aftershocks ebbed between them. His mouth brushed across her face, his nose ghosting over her cheeks tenderly. He slowly lowered her to her feet and chuckled when she stumbled. Her legs were limp like noodles.
“I needed that,” Beatrice whispered.
“Me too, babe,” Gabe kissed her lips lightly. “Me too.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Chocolate shavings swirled in a saucepan filled with heated milk. Gabe whisked along the edges of the pot, allowing the chocolate to melt and turn the bubbling liquid into a dark, thick mixture redolent with the addictive aroma of cocoa. A smile played on the edges of his mouth as he remembered the first time he prepared his version of hot cocoa for Beatrice.
They were on their fourth date. It was late February and there was snow on the ground, but they went out for a walk after dinner anyway. Gabe had his arm around her, hugging her close as he savored the feel of her arms around his torso. They traversed the National Mall at a leisurely pace, their breath vaporizing into visible swirls on a chilly winter evening.
“How is it, you’ve had that big steak dinner and your abs are still hard and flat?” She felt him up playfully. “Well, hard ridges of muscle.”
Gabe chuckled. “Just made that way, babe.”
“It’s not fair. I have to work hard to stay in shape.” Beatrice pouted so prettily Gabe wanted to capture those luscious lips with his mouth and explore their depths. Self-control was a challenge around her.
She stopped walking and extricated herself from his embrace. She unbuttoned her coat and revealed the black, tight-fitting dress that Gabe had been imagining the different ways of stripping off her all evening. “This is hours of Pilates and running, and I’ll never have the zero body fat you have.”
He circled h
er back into a hug. “I don’t have zero body fat, but I love your curves; although, I have yet to see them bare.”
She pulled back slightly from him. “My, my, Mr. Sullivan, that sounds like a blatant proposition.”
“Come back to my place,” Gabe said abruptly.
Indecision spread across her face. “I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
Gabe sighed. He wasn’t sure if Beatrice was simply stringing him along. It had taken him a couple of attempts before she even agreed to go out with him. She told him outright she didn’t date military men, more so when she found out he was a former Navy SEAL. It was ironic that his emergency meeting with the admiral regarding an upcoming op made him rethink what he wanted in life. Because that was when he saw her, and a craving he had never felt before electrified him. He thought, maybe after a date or two, he’d find there was nothing beneath that beautiful facade. He’d never been more sucker-punched in his entire life. She had such sass, intelligence, and a beguiling personality under all that gorgeousness. She captivated him in such a way that he never wanted to break free. But he had no right to claim her at that time. Not yet.
“Can I see you Friday night?” He wasn’t going to let her brush him off so easily. It was Wednesday right now.
An evasive expression shadowed her face. “Um, I already have plans.”
Gabe’s jaw clenched. “A date?”
Her eyes flashed emerald fire, her chin tipping up defiantly. “Yes.”
“With whom?” Fuck him. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?
“I don’t think it’s any of your business, Gabe.” She attempted to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip.
“I’m sorry,” No, he wasn’t. He was going to seduce her tonight and pleasure her until she forgot every single asshole she was dating. “I’ll make you hot chocolate so good, you’ll forget your name. Then I’ll take you right home. It doesn’t need to be a late night.” After I’ve fucked you so hard, you will never want another man inside you.
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