Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  Because it didn’t mean anything. When it came right down to it, it wasn’t because he loved her, or because his life would suffer without her. It was because Orion had killed Micah’s friends. It was because he was a man who would do whatever it took to protect those he considered his responsibility.

  She was his responsibility now.

  “Risa, look at me.” His hands eased her around slowly.

  Her palms pressed against his bare chest, her fingers curling as she breathed in roughly at the feel of the heat of his flesh, the pleasure against her hands.

  The silky mat of chest hair drew her attention as she felt it under her palms. It rasped the sensitive flesh, tickled against it. Made her wonder what it would feel like to have her nipples pressing into his chest.

  She couldn’t stop herself; she had to stroke him. Just a little touch.

  Her eyes closed as her hands stroked over him. She felt the tight, hard press of male nipples, felt the thunder of his heart racing beneath her hands.

  “Yes, Risa.” His voice seemed to come from a distance. “Touch me, sweet. Ah damn, your hands are like silk, love.”

  His voice was like rough, black velvet. His hands were on her back, stroking it beneath her shirt. She couldn’t protest. She didn’t want to protest. She just wanted to sink into the heated sensations, the pleasure whipping through her, over her.

  She wanted to feel him against her, skin on skin as they had been once before. Her hands slid to his shoulders; her fingers tested the hard muscle there. He was broader than she had thought at the club, more muscular. Harder than she had imagined then.

  She remembered the hardness of him.

  “Risa.” His head lowered, his lips feathered over her brow. “You’re pushing a damned hungry man here, love.”

  He was hungry? She was starving. She felt as though she had never been touched, as though those touches nights ago had been another lifetime. She needed more, ached for more.

  “Give me your lips.” His hand cupped her neck. She loved that, the feel of his fingers wrapping around her neck, his thumb pressing beneath her chin. It was powerful and dominant and made her feel feminine, desired.

  For this moment, just for a moment, she let herself believe she was desired.

  “Micah,” she whispered his name as she felt his lips against her brow, her cheek, her jaw.

  A shiver went through her, then a rush of heat as his lips sent swells of pleasure cresting over her nerve endings. Her lips parted, ached. His kiss, she needed his kiss, just one more time.

  “Tell me,” he whispered. “I won’t take this time, love. Tell me what you want.”

  If only it was love. If only she could make sense of the emotions that rose inside her, the needs she couldn’t control.

  “Kiss me.” She told him; she didn’t beg. She didn’t hear a plea in her voice; she was certain of it. God, if he didn’t kiss her soon…

  A groan sounded at the side of her lips; then he was there. His lips slanted over hers and that dark magic sucked her in again.

  Was it the drug already in her system that did this? Or was it the man? He was dark magic all on his own. His kiss was addictive. That was the drug, not the Whore’s Dust. She could bear the arousal until he touched her. Until his lips were on hers, and then she was lost.

  She was lost now. Her lips parted for his tongue. She tasted coffee and male heat; it might as well have been an aphrodisiac, because now all she wanted was more. She wanted it badly enough that she arched against him, stretching into his body, her arms twining around his neck as she tried to follow his kiss, tried to find a way to satisfy the need for more when she had no idea how to still the need to begin with.

  “Sweet.” His lips drew back; he pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips, held her head still, and pressed another to her jaw as she heard a sudden ringing blaring around her.

  Her eyes opened as she stared back at him, dazed, uncertain where the sound was coming from.

  “Morganna and Clint.” His thumb ran over her sensitive lips. “It’s a couples’ day out. They’re going with us.”

  “They are? Why?”

  “Couples’ day out,” he stated again. “Morganna and Raven put that on the list. All serious couples hang together, you know. When a man is thinking forever and marriage and all that good stuff, then he develops married friends. We’re lovers, remember? Serious lovers.”

  “He does?” Raven hadn’t told her that. Of course, she hadn’t discussed couples, marriage, and forevers with Raven, either. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” He released her slowly. “Go dress. I’ll entertain them while you do; then you can entertain them while I finish dressing.” He pulled a T-shirt from the chair behind him, and she couldn’t help but watch as he pushed his arms into it and tugged it over his head.

  “Go.” He turned her toward her bedroom, then delivered a light, surprising tap to her rear as he pushed her toward the door. “Hurry, or they’ll believe we were otherwise occupied.”

  She flushed. They were otherwise occupied. But she went to her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it weakly. She really wanted to be otherwise occupied.

  Even more, she wanted to be otherwise occupied with Micah in ways that she knew would only destroy her world further.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE SHOPPING trip was a disaster of major proportions. No wonder he insisted they needed another couple with them; he was counting on the fact that Risa wouldn’t stomp out of the mall if there were witnesses. And damn him, he was right.

  Instead, she fumed. She refused to try on outfits, not that it did her any good, because he bought them anyway as Clint and Morganna looked on in amusement.

  Then, at the lingerie shop. Risa had never been so publicly humiliated as she was when Micah dragged her into that shop. Even worse, when he picked out the scraps of lace and silk, satins and stretchy cottons. He bought enough lingerie to clothe twenty women. In her size. Bits of material that there wasn’t a chance in hell of her wearing.

  He was insane. The amount of money he spent would have bought her groceries for a year. Groceries for her and a small family, she later decided.

  He carried the bags. He encouraged her to buy snug jeans; when she didn’t, he bought them himself. He bought tops. He even bought her a snug leather jacket that looked as soft as butter.

  He bought dresses. Dresses she swore she would never have the nerve to wear. Evidently private investigation or whatever the hell he did paid a hell of a lot more than accounting.

  “You are spending too much money,” she protested.

  “Enjoy it.” He’d shrugged as though cost didn’t matter. “I hope you took my advice and emptied your closets.”

  “Do I ever take your advice?” she snarled under her breath.

  “Well, I do remember one night that you came close.” He bent and whispered the words in her ear, and she wanted to melt into the floor.

  As they walked through the mall, he held her hand or kept his at the small of her back. And he watched everyone. His black gaze was never in one place long unless he was contemplating some article of clothing, looking between the clothing and her.

  By time they left, she had five pairs of jeans, innumerable tops, enough lingerie to start her own shop, a pair of leather running shoes, a pair of black heels that were decadent, and three club dresses. Evidently, Micah liked to go to clubs.

  Leading her back to the car they had driven in, she noticed the tension in his and Clint’s bodies. Their watchfulness. She wasn’t certain what they were watching for until Clint said, “Car’s clear. Nik and John had surveillance. No one’s been around it.”

  “The apartment?” Micah asked softly.

  “Not so much as a blink on the surveillance. Travis moved into the apartment after we left. He says all quiet.”

  Micah nodded, deactivated the locks while they were several vehicles away, and hit the auto-ignition on the keypad he carried.

  It wasn’t col
d; winter in Atlanta didn’t often get cold. There was a chill to the air, but that was about it. He opened the trunk and the bags went inside; then she and Morganna were put safely in the backseat while the big bad tough guys sat in the front.

  Risa was starting to dislike men.

  “I know that look,” Morganna murmured in amusement as she leaned closer, a smile tilting her lips. “You’re imagining how he would look with his head displayed on your mantel, minus his body.”

  She shot the other woman a look. Risa still hadn’t decided just how involved Morganna was in the deception the night she had met Micah.

  “Come on, Risa.” Morganna watched her somberly now. “You’re life was in danger and I knew it. I have clearance because of my work with the DEA to aid when Clint works certain assignments. You’re my friend. I’d rather tell a little lie to save you than see you dead.”

  Risa stared into the rearview mirror as Micah glanced back at her.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she finally said, turning to stare out the window of the door. “No harm done.”

  And why had she said that? There had been harm done. She was still burning; she was still terrified of her own body since that night.

  “You’re hurt,” Morganna pushed. “I don’t like that.”

  Risa shrugged. “It was slight, Morganna. Please, just let it go.”

  Risa watched the scenery fly by as Micah navigated through the traffic. She was aware of the two men talking quietly to each other, discussing surveillance and precautions.

  She had never been out with a man and another couple before. She wondered if this was how it was. The guys sitting in the front and discussing whatever. The women in the back, perhaps discussing fashion. She’d always imagined the couples would sit together instead. She would have preferred it that way if she were part of a true couple. She’d prefer to have Micah beside her, perhaps with her leaning against him as they all discussed topics they could share.

  She’d imagined that was a real couple outing. And it very well may have been; she had to remind herself that she wasn’t really part of a couple.

  “We’re moving into the parking garage,” Micah announced quietly into whatever was attached beneath his jacket sleeve. A mic of some sort. There was also a receiver tucked into his ear, the little wire to it tucked behind his ear and hidden by his hair until it disappeared beneath his collar.

  “All’s clear,” Clint stated as Micah pulled into the closest slot to the elevator.

  “We’ll come back for the bags,” Micah decided. “I want to get Risa upstairs first.”

  Clint nodded. They exited the front of the car and each opened a door to the back. Micah reached in, took her hand, and helped her out, then placed her carefully in front of him, keeping her there as they moved to the elevator.

  They stayed together every step of the way until they arrived at the apartment. As they neared the door, it opened. Another man stepped out, nodded to them, and entered the apartment across the hall.

  Another stranger had been in her home?

  “It’s okay; he’s part of the team,” Micah leaned close and whispered in her ear. “We don’t have any more of those nasty bugs in your apartment.”

  The bugs. She hadn’t wanted to think of what that camera might have caught her doing at any given time. She touched her brow as she bit back the sniping reply she wanted to make. It wasn’t his fault, she reminded herself; he was trying to help. He was trying to save her life; the camera wasn’t his fault.

  They stepped into the apartment. Clint and Micah went through it carefully, then left her alone with Morganna while they went for the shopping bags.

  “This must be hard on you; you’re used to being here alone,” Morganna commented as she curled into the easy chair in the corner of the room, leaving Risa the couch.

  Risa shrugged as she sat down, feeling helpless and very much alone as she stared around the apartment.

  “It’s different,” she finally said, mostly because the other woman obviously expected an answer.

  “Risa, if you need to talk, I’m willing to listen,” Morganna offered. “It must be difficult, being thrown in this situation.”

  “I don’t need to talk, Morganna.” She forced herself to stay on the couch rather than pace the room. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “You have a monster trying to kill you, you’re thrown into a situation with a man you don’t even know, one you’re forced to sleep with, but you’re okay?” Morganna stared back at her, disbelieving. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  “What do you want me to tell you?” she asked the other woman with no more than a hint of the anger that she felt at the situation. “He’s bossy, domineering, and that fucking drug Jansen Clay shot me full of, too many times, ensures that I’m ready to fuck on a moment’s notice. Having him in my bed is hell. I’m not sleeping. And I’m not fucking happy with the situation. Is there anything else you need to know?”

  Morganna breathed out deeply, her gaze compassionate.

  “The Whore’s Dust to begin the arousal,” Morganna finally said. “It only makes it worse. You don’t want him because of the drug. You want him because you’re a woman and he’s a very sexy, very desirable man. There’s nothing wrong with that, Risa.”

  “Isn’t there?” She snorted mockingly. “You know, Morganna, if my friends had been so kind to just tell me what the hell was going on the night I met him, perhaps I would have understood that. I wouldn’t have made the mistake of going to bed with him, and I wouldn’t have to lie in that bed night after night, aware that it would take a bag over my head for him to get off. Thank you for that, by the way. It was a very enlightening experience.”

  She came off the couch as Morganna stared back at her in blank shock.

  “You…he…” Morganna breathed out roughly. “Damn. I didn’t know about that. He didn’t add that in his report of that night.”

  “No kidding,” she muttered.

  “What the hell happened to make you think he’d have to put a bag over your face to get off?” Morganna came out of her chair then. “That is simply not true, Risa. You have got to get over what Jansen Clay did to you in that regard. You are not an ugly woman.”

  “Yeah, boy. I’d just win the next Miss America, wouldn’t I?” she sniped back angrily.

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Morganna admitted, which did little to soothe Risa’s anger as she turned to her. “Risa, you’re a very pretty young woman,” Morganna said then. “No, you’re not the next Miss America, but you’re a far cry from coyote ugly, I promise you that. And if there were issues that night, then you need to discuss them with Micah.”

  “Why don’t I just do that?” She laughed mockingly. “I could just say, ‘Oh, by the way, Micah, remember when you couldn’t fucking get off? Well, why not just tell me—’”

  She broke off as a flash of movement caught her attention. Heat filled her face at the sight of Micah and Clint standing in the open doorway, their hands full of bags, their expressions making it clear that they had heard every word of that last tirade.

  Damn, damn, and double damn.

  “Just tell you what?” Micah’s lips were a straight, furious line as he moved into the apartment and tossed the bags carelessly to the couch as Morganna moved quickly to the door.

  Risa was aware of the couple leaving, the door closing and locking behind them.

  “Why not just tell me what it would have taken to get you off?” she sneered. “What would I have had to do, give you my back so you didn’t have to look at my face?”

  Micah tried. In all the years of his life he had never tried to push back the overwhelming anger as much as he tried to push it back now.

  He reminded himself that she could be forgiven for her anger, for her snipishness at the mall. She could be forgiven for every damned thing she had said and done in the past two days. She was frightened. She was being put through another kind of hell and it couldn’t be easy for her. But this one. This one he wasn’t
quite as willing to let go.

  He had to admit, she was stronger than he had expected her to be. She wasn’t cowering; she hadn’t cowered a single time. She was trying to fight; unfortunately, she was fighting the wrong damned things and pissing him off in the process.

  “You want to rethink that accusation you just made,” he told her carefully, attempting to push back the anger and draw forward the ice he used to protect himself and others. “You want to rethink it carefully and rephrase it quickly, Risa.”

  She glared back at him. “Why should I?”

  As she stood there dressed in a baggy silk blouse and loose black pants, her arms crossed over her breasts, her expression flushed and furious, Micah felt his erection flex and throb painfully. What was it about this woman that kept him hard? That kept him ready to fuck her at a moment’s notice? If only he had the excuse of the Whore’s Dust, he thought mockingly.

  “Because I’m about five seconds from dragging you into that bedroom and spending the rest of the night showing you just how wrong you are,” he informed her. “I can’t believe you’d spout such idiocy from your mouth. Do you think if I didn’t find you attractive, didn’t ache for you, I would have been hard enough to pound nails?”

  “You didn’t come,” she accused him roughly. “I know you didn’t. You couldn’t.”

  He pushed his hands over his head, clenched his teeth, and tried to keep his hands off her. If he touched her, he’d never be able to stop.

  “Because you didn’t get off,” he pushed between gritted teeth. “Did you think I would take my pleasure of you when you hadn’t taken yours of me? What the fucking hell is in your mind, woman? Have you lost your damned senses? I had to leave the bed to keep from pounding into you when you had obviously grown too tense to climax. I wanted to give us both a second to calm down. Just a moment to find my control. And when I returned, what did I find?”

  He stepped closer when he hadn’t meant to. His hands gripped her shoulders and he jerked her closer, staring furiously down at her surprised little face.