by Desiree Holt
God, she tasted so damn good! Better than fine wine or aged brandy or anything else he could think of. He could lap up her cream forever.
Kat moved restlessly beneath him, her fingers fisting in his hair, the same little delicious sounds rolling from her throat like an erotic piece of music. Her clit was a nub of flesh that thrummed as he sucked it into his mouth, his teeth just nipping the very tip.
“Please,” she cried. “Oh please, Mike.”
He knew what she wanted and he gave it to her, sliding two fingers into the simmering channel of her vagina, curling them to scrape lightly over that fiery sweet spot. While he worked his fingers in and out of her he continued to suck and bite her clit, drawing on the hot button until her hips thrust at him and the moans became one long plea.
When he withdrew his fingers she pushed herself at him, silent indication that she didn’t want him to stop. But he nipped the inside of one thigh and slid his drenched fingers along the sensitive skin to her puckered anus, rimming the opening with a teasing touch.
The tempo of her breathing changed, quickened as he moved his finger round and round. And when he pushed it just inside, past the tight ring of muscle, she bent her legs, pressed her feet flat on the bed and tried to impale herself on him. The first time he’d taken her there it had stunned and thrilled him to learn how responsive she was to anal penetration. She’d been hesitant that first time but then couldn’t seem to get enough. She was always teasing him with a glimpse of her naked ass, heat flashing in her eyes.
But tonight he wanted her pussy, wanted that hot sheath clasped around his cock, her liquid bathing him.
He moved away from her only long enough to grab a condom and roll it on before placing the head of his cock at her opening. Taking a deep breath, he drove into her hard with one fast stroke.
“God yes,” she cried, lifting her legs to wrap around him. “More. Deeper.”
He moved slowly, dragging his shaft in and out of that slick tunnel, watching the flush on her face darken with lust.
“Do it, Mike,” she begged. “Now. Please.”
He was at the end of his control. She always did that to him, frayed the last edges until he couldn’t drag it out any longer. Dragging in a breath again, he quickened his pace, pounding into her, feeling her feet dig into the small of his back as she lifted to meet his strokes.
When he felt the spasms begin in the walls of her cunt he let himself go, taking them over the edge together. Shouting her name as he came.
Afterward he held her close to him, inhaling her scent, loving the feel of her body as it molded to his. She gave him a feeling of contentment that he’d never found before. Anywhere. With anyone. He just hoped he didn’t screw it up.
* * * * *
Mike exhaled slowly, chasing away the dream, and mentally crossed his fingers. Hoping some of the same memories still danced around in Kat’s mind, enough so they could take a step forward. That she’d be willing to give him a chance again.
“I don‘t suppose you’d be willing to have lunch with me? I owe you an explanation and an apology and I’d rather not deliver them standing in the middle of the airport.”
She started to refuse him. “I really don’t think—”
“Please? Just lunch. Then if you’re still mad, which you have every right to be, you can dump my drink on my head and walk out.”
He watched her trying not to laugh.
“All right,” she said at last. “Just lunch. I am curious to hear what you have to say. I have my car here so I’ll meet you. Just tell me where.”
He named an upscale restaurant she was very familiar with. It was a place where people went to have quiet conversations.
“Good choice. Okay. I’m on my way.”
Mike followed her through the small terminal building and out to the parking lot, watching the sway of her hips and the bounce of her sun-streaked hair. All the memories came flooding back, including his recollection of what a jackass he’d been.
Better not blow it this time, buddy boy.
* * * * *
The sleek Gulfstream G-5 touched down smoothly at the airport in San Diego and taxied to the small private terminal. Eli unbuckled his seat belt and stood up, stretching out the kinks.
“We’ll grab some lunch while the pilot refuels and gets his own grub,” he announced. “Mari, we have a favorite restaurant near the waterfront we like to eat in. Is Italian okay with you?”
“Mr. Wright, anything is fine,” she grinned. “I’m just so excited and pleased to be included in this trip.”
He laughed. “You’ll earn your keep before it’s over,” he warned as he ushered the women down the foldout stairs.
Mari stopped at the bottom of the steps, adjusting to the scene. The sun was so bright it reflected off the tarmac and the paint of the two silver SUVs waiting for them. Texas was hot but this was a moist heat and already she felt the natural thickening of the air.
A young man in polo shirt and jeans waited beside the lead vehicle. He was a lean six feet and she guessed his age at no more than twenty-two or three. The chocolate brown of his shirt was almost the same color as his hair. His tan bespoke hours in the sun and the corded muscles visible on his bare arms were an indication that this wasn’t someone who sat on his ass all day. Not long out of college, he was already making himself valuable at the company’s small San Diego office. Getting to drive the big boss around was an obvious perk for him.
“Thanks, Len.” Eli took the keys and they shook hands. “Delivering cars for the boss isn’t really part of your job description. Especially on your day off. Mr. Lombard tells me you volunteered for the job.” He turned back to the women. “Lissa, you remember Len Randolph, right? He drove us around last time we were here.”
Mari saw the good-looking young man flush, carefully keeping his eyes averted from seventeen-year-old Lissa Wright, who was trying to look anywhere but at Len.
Aha! Romance blooms!
“No problem, sir. Any time. You just let Mr. Lombard know whatever you need when you’re in town and I’m your man.”
Harry Lombard ran the small San Diego office of the corporation.
Eli Wright chuckled, obviously aware of the byplay going on between his daughter and the nervous young man. “I plan to chat with him as soon as we finish lunch, so I’ll keep that in mind. Too bad he couldn’t join us. How about you? Got time to have lunch with us?”
Len nearly strangled on his tongue, trying to be cool about his acceptance. “Um, yes, thank you, sir. If it’s all right. I mean…”
Eli swallowed a grin and handed the keys back. “How about if you play chauffeur? That way you’ll feel like you’re earning your keep.”
He nodded to the second vehicle in line, the security team from the San Diego office that Kat always provided for him. Eli never moved without protection. Too much risk in these turbulent times. Len climbed in behind the steering wheel of their vehicle, Eli riding shotgun and the women in the spacious backseat.
“You know where Il Maggiore is?” Eli asked.
“Yes sir.”
“That’s where we’re heading. Hope you like Italian.”
“Yes sir,” Len repeated, cranking over the ignition and pulling smoothly away from the plane.
* * * * *
The four men in the extended black panel van had decided to call themselves Juan, Manuel, Pedro and Carlos, Hispanic names that were so common most people paid little attention to them. Nothing that would stand out later and identify them.
They watched as the people in the first silver SUV exited the vehicle, handing it over to valet parking and entering the restaurant beneath a bright red canopy, laughing and joking.
“They won’t be laughing much longer,” Carlos smirked.
“Just keep your mind on business,” Pedro told him. “We can’t afford any slip-ups here. I for one do not wish to bring the wrath of El Jefe down on my head.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Carlos snapped back.
“I know what to do.”
“Everyone just shut up,” Juan told them. He sat in the front passenger seat, binoculars adjusted to his eyes as he looked through the tinted glass of the window. “And pay attention, especially to the men in the second vehicle. We’ll have one chance to do this, so don’t screw it up.”
Manuel, the driver, had cracked the window on his side barely an inch, just enough to let in some fresh air. Although the temperature was cooler than it had been earlier in the week, the van was still stifling. Sitting there for more than an hour with the engine running, however, would have called attention to them. And that was something they could ill afford. So they sat, watching as people exited the restaurant, baking in the sun, as the minutes crawled by like snails, checking and coordinating their watches every five minutes.
When the front door to the restaurant swung open yet again, this time to allow their targets to exit, Manuel picked up the small radio on the seat beside him and spoke a few words into the mic. Then he turned on the engine, backed up and casually eased the van to the curb at the opposite sidewalk. They watched the younger man hand a ticket to the valet attendant and all five people gathered in a tight group to wait for their vehicle. By a stroke of circumstance, no one else emerged with them, leaving the Wright group of people the only ones on the sidewalk.
The security vehicle pulled up right behind them, idling at the curb. As soon as the Wrights moved off, the security team following, the black van fell into line behind them, a tan sedan bringing up the rear. They stayed in a line like that, allowing other cars to fall in between them but always with their targets in sight, until they turned off onto the long empty road leading to the airstrip.
Juan, in the front passenger seat, picked up the radio and said, “Get ready.”
The men in the van pulled hooded masks over their heads and pulled around in front of the Wrights’ vehicle, forcing it to a stop. The security team stopped behind them, the men jumping out, guns ready. Pedro aimed quickly and with four quick shots both men were dead on the ground. He and the others raced from the van, jerking open the doors of the backup SUV and tossing the bodies inside.
Manuel swept up Mari and Sydney while another man grabbed Lissa, pressing pieces of cloth to their heads, then carrying them to the van and tossing them inside.
“What the hell is going on?” Eli demanded, watching one of the men club Len on the side of the head.
“If you want to keep the women alive, get in the van and don’t make a sound,” Juan commanded.
“Jesus,” Eli swore. “You killed those two men.”
“And if you want to avoid the same fate, do as I said,” Juan told him, pressing the gun harder into his flesh.
At that moment the cries from the women suddenly stopped and Wright tensed.
“What did you do to them?” he demanded as he was propelled forward.
“Nothing. Just helped them take a little nap. Get in.” He gave Eli a shove and the man fell into the interior of the van.
Pedro and Carlos, now driving the two SUVs, hugged Manuel’s bumper.
“Be sure you gave them enough to keep them unconscious,” he warned, turning again onto the road that paralleled the waterfront. “Don’t give the men a chance to do anything.”
“Our pilots will be looking for us,” Eli warned them, hoping to give himself an edge.
“Your pilots are resting comfortably far away from the airport,” the man said, grinning. “And how convenient that they left a message to have your plane tied down while you took a little side trip.”
Eli gritted his teeth and thought, Hell. No one will even be looking for us. Not right away.
That was his last thought as a soaked cloth was pressed firmly against his nose.
By the time they’d turned around and headed in another direction, then turned onto a road equally as desolate as the one they’d left, all five prisoners were out cold. Or appeared to be. Eli had managed to hold his breath enough to receive a smaller dose of whatever they were using, forcing himself to maintain some level of consciousness without letting his captors know. On a deserted road they stopped briefly to shove Len out, then a mile or so later left the two SUVs and the bodies of the guards. As the drivers walked back to the van, one of them pushed a button on a remote and both vehicles exploded in a cloud of fire and twisted steel.
Work done, the two men climbed back into the van and roared off again in yet another direction.
“How long until we reach the airstrip?” Pedro asked.
“Half an hour. I’ll tell you again, make sure you gave them enough to keep them out until we get them on the plane. I don’t need trouble. We have to take off on time, while our pet air traffic controller is in place.”
“No problem.”
* * * * *
Mike D’Antoni was already at the restaurant when Kat arrived. For a moment she thought about leaving, forgetting about lunch with this man who played havoc with her emotions. But the hostess was already leading the way to a table in the far corner of the dining room and the time for running was past.
Mike rose and held out her chair.
“Still the gentleman,” she commented, then couldn’t resist adding, “at least in some areas.”
The waiter appeared instantly and hovered until they gave him their drink orders and left menus for them to study. When their drinks arrived, Mike closed his menu, set it on the table and waited until Kat had lifted her glass.
“To a fresh start,” he said, raising his glass to her.
She hesitated then set her glass back down without drinking from it. “I’m not sure that’s in the cards for us, Mike. Lunch, okay. Starting over? I think history’s against us.”
He leaned forward, making the space between them more intimate. “There’s no way I blame you for your attitude, Kat. I was the consummate asshole and I freely admit it. I did everything wrong.”
“It’s not that I don’t…didn’t understand about your work. You explained to me as much as you could. I could even handle you getting called out without notice and not knowing exactly when you’d be back. We’d been through it many times in the two years we were together.”
That didn’t mean it was easy for me, Michael. That I didn’t worry and wonder. But I’m a big girl and I knew what the situation was from the beginning. But this time when you left it was different.
“But?”
Kat drew circles on the table with her fingertip, her eyes not meeting his. Images of them together flashed through her brain like a DVD on fast forward. Dredging up whatever control she could, she pushed them out of her consciousness. Remembering him naked wasn’t going to help her today.
“But I thought we had something special going.” She kept tracing circles with her finger, still focusing her eyes on the linen tablecloth. “Then you left in the middle of the night and didn’t even call me. Not even a text message. Okay. I got it. But I was sure when you got back from whatever hellhole you were in you’d take one minute to call me.”
“I didn’t—” he began.
Kat held up her hand. “But then…then…you came back and what did you do?” She was desperately trying to hold onto her cool, not let the steadily building anger take over. “You sent me an email, for god’s sake. An email, telling me you were sorry about the way you ran out but life was very complicated for you right then. Like I couldn’t understand if you told me? Explained to me? I knew what you did was not for public discussion but you could have given me some kind of explanation, you know.”
“Kat, listen—”
“I’m not through yet.” She curled the hand in her lap into a fist. “A month later, about the time I’m finally beginning to put you out of my mind, you show up at my door expecting me to take you in for the weekend. Like okay, I got mad, so let’s get past it and have some fun.”
He laughed but it was edged with bitterness. “You certainly didn’t hold back making your feelings clear that night.”
The hurt she’d felt at the
time came surging back. “Just what did you expect?” she bit off.
“I don’t know,” he said in a quiet voice. “But I like to think I’m different now from that guy you threw out of your place. That I look at life a little differently.”
“Differently?” Her stomach knotted. “Exactly what does that mean?”
He twisted his lips. “That I try very hard not to be such an asshole anymore.” He covered her hand with his, refusing to let her pull it away, his touch like a spike of electricity firing through her. He looked as if he was having trouble finding the right words. As if he was coming to some kind of momentous decision. “Damn it, Kat, it wasn’t just the agency that got in the way. I was scared. I’ve never let a woman get as close to me as you did. Getting…attached to someone was way in the future. I just…” He shook his head.
“Just couldn’t handle commitment and what goes with it,” she finished for him. “But I know that men in your line of work have families. Don’t tell me none of your partners are married because I won’t believe you.”
She watched his eyes slide away, avoiding the answer.
“Listen, Mike. If we aren’t honest with each other about everything there’s no new start in the cards. Ever.” She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. “And I’m not telling you there is one. I’m just saying. You know?”
“Okay. Three of my partners are married. Very happily, as a matter of fact. One of them just recently.”
“So it’s not an impossible situation.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”
Kat didn’t know whether to be pleased at the admission or not. He certainly didn’t act as if he was ready to take the plunge. Of any kind. So what did he mean by a new start? She was having enough trouble keeping her hormones under control. Just the sight of the lean, dark-haired, dark-eyed hunk of masculinity was stirring up feelings she’d done her best to keep buried.
“I know you invented the words ‘playing the field’ and ‘unattached’ but…”
