Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  As her lips parted he laid his fingers against them, leaned close, and simply whispered. “I know.”

  CHAPTER 12

  It was midnight before the senator’s party finally began to wind down and Jordan decided it was time to make their exit. The hours had been spent dancing, chatting, and socializing. The Taites were present, moving around them yet never actually confronting Jordan again.

  “Ah, I see you’re leaving, Jordan.” Still bright-eyed and energetic, the senator met them at the wide double doors as they neared them.

  “It’s that time, Richard,” Jordan answered with a grin as he drew Tehya closer to his side. “I have several meetings tomorrow that I’d prefer not to be late to.”

  “I completely understand.” The senator gave a quick nod before bending his head to kiss Tehya’s cheek fondly. “Come see us soon, Teylor. As always, you’re missed.”

  The farewell was a message as well. That she didn’t have to wait until the operation was over to visit. That they were friends.

  “We would love to see more of you, Tey.” Emily Krieger reinforced her father’s invitation, using the shortened version of her name to remind her that Emily knew not just who she was, but also who she had been.

  “Perhaps,” Tehya murmured, though she returned Emily’s hug firmly and thankfully.

  She knew that once this was over, if she survived it, that she would need a friend. Someone who could understand without reaching out to Jordan with a guilt trip where leaving Tehya was concerned.

  Tehya knew exactly how the unit worked and the friendships that had been built because of it. They were, in many regards, like a family.

  “We’ll see you soon, Richard,” Jordan promised again as his hand tightened at Tehya’s lower back to draw her from the house. “And thanks again for the invitation.”

  Guests were already milling on the mansion’s marble front stoop and wide steps that led to the curved driveway and the limousines slowly pulling around.

  As Nik pulled the limo to a stop, exited the vehicle, and moved to the back door, Jordan led her slowly down the steps. Her hand lay in the crook of his arm comfortably, the warmth of his body against her side.

  Behind her, she felt eyes watching, piercing.

  The feeling was stronger than it had been before Jordan found her. The panic was beginning to tighten her chest, building inside her, warning her that the storm brewing around her was going to explode at any time.

  Turning slowly in the seat, she sat sideways, facing Jordan, her gaze moving to the crowd gathering on the marble stoop.

  Standing out from the other guests, instantly drawing her gaze, their eyes locked on Jordan’s limo, were Stephen and Craig Taite.

  Staring into Stephen Taite’s face, she saw his resemblance to the pictures she had seen of her grandfather, and a slighter resemblance to her mother. Craig Taite resembled her mother more, though. His tall, lanky form was a harder, more masculine, male version of Francine Taite.

  Thoughtful, perhaps confused, Stephen’s expression was almost enigmatic as his gaze remained locked on the back of the limo, as though he were attempting to sort out a puzzle.

  His son’s expression was more disapproving, though tinged with interest and a hint of—was that somber sadness and knowledge? Or was she simply seeing what she wanted to see? Seeing a family when there was none?

  She forced herself to turn away, to let the sight of them go as her mother’s secret whispered through her mind. She held the key to the destruction of the Taite empire, and she had forced herself to remain aloof from them, to push away every dream she had ever had, to ensure not just their safety, but also the balance of financial power they had maintained.

  Her family.

  Her mother had grieved for her family. Tehya remembered the few months off and on that she and her mother had been able to actually be together, and she remembered hearing her mother cry.

  They had been lost in the world, separated when Bernard Taite and his wife had died. Francine had been too terrified to call on what remained of her family after her parents’ murders certain that they too would suffer if she did so.

  “Tey.” Jordan’s voice was soft, despite its roughness as he pulled her to him. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She shook her head as she fought back her tears. “Mother grieved for everything she had lost over the years. She called when she learned of my grandparents’ deaths, hysterical out of her mind with guilt because she had called them, begging for their help. Their deaths were made to look like an accident with the hit and run that killed my grandfather. It appeared my grandmother committed suicide. Even the officers investigating knew there was more to their deaths. There was just no proof.”

  Was she shaking? She could feel her stomach trembling where that sense of panic was building.

  “Tehya, stop this.” Strong, broad fingers suddenly gripped her waist as he lifted her, pulling her to his lap before a hand cupped her cheek and turned her head to face him.

  His eyes were a brilliant sapphire, staring into hers, locking her soul to his.

  “No one knows who you are. They may suspect, but I promise you, no one will strike out at the Taites because of that suspicion.”

  Her hand gripped his wrist, desperation beginning to grow inside her, clawing at her until she wondered why she hadn’t run, why she hadn’t escaped the moment she had known she was being watched again.

  “I’m terrified, Jordan,” she finally admitted painfully. “I don’t want to lose anyone else. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me. I’ve already lost too much.”

  The men she had worked with during their contract to the Elite Ops were her friends. She was friends with the wives, she had gotten to know their children through pictures and knew their hopes and dreams. She was closer to them, and to Jordan, than she had ever been to anyone else in her life. Even her mother.

  And Jordan. Her hand tightened on his wrist as his thumb caressed her lips, sending flares of exquisite sensation washing through her.

  In the midst of rising panic, those sensations had the ability to still the storm raging inside her. Fear retreated beneath the warmth that sparked to a flame and hunger turned to a raging need in a split second.

  “I don’t know if I can survive…”

  “Shhh.” His fingers covered her lips. “We’re going to fix this, Tehya. All of it. When it’s over, you’ll never have to hide again. I swear it.”

  She knew what he was doing, though. His fingers were holding back the words she knew he didn’t want to hear.

  He wanted her. She could see it in his face. He wanted her body, her touch, but he didn’t want the heart she had given him years before.

  This was all she had, and, she promised herself, she would make it be enough.

  She shook her head slowly as his fingers slid from her lips, along her jaw, down her neck to her shoulder. Like a whisper of heat, the subtle touch of flames.

  “Touch me.” If he didn’t touch her, if he didn’t distract her, then how was she supposed to hold back the emotions?

  No, she wasn’t holding back the emotions. If he didn’t want her to whisper them, then he had to give her another way to express them.

  Through her pleasure.

  Her head fell back against his arm slowly as she felt his free hand lift the skirt of her dress, his palm cupping the side of her ankle before sliding heatedly to her knee.

  Callused and experienced, his fingertips slid to the back of her knee, caressing in tiny circles, causing her leg to tighten as heat pierced her womb.

  “Touch you how?” he whispered, sensual promise tightening his voice.

  Her eyes opened, her stomach clenched in rising need at the pure, sexual hunger on his face, in his eyes.

  Reaching down, her fingers curled around his wrist as she lifted his hand and brought it to her breast.

  “They ache,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

  And they did. Her nipples were on fire as the need for hi
s touch, the heated dampness of his mouth surrounding them, began to tear through her.

  “They ache, love?” he asked, his arm shifting behind her back to lower the zipper of her dress.

  The bodice loosened, slid slowly over the swollen, tight curves of her breasts and revealed the painfully hard buds of her nipples.

  The wash of air over the sensitive peaks sent a shudder racing through her. Anticipation surged, heated and spiked with sexual adrenaline.

  “How pretty.” The rough pad of a finger slid over the ultrasensitive tip, causing her body to jolt in response as pleasure became a hunger so intense it bordered on agony.

  “Don’t tease,” she breathed out roughly, her lashes heavy. “I want your mouth on them. Please, Jordan. I want to feel your tongue.”

  She would be shocked at the explicit demand later, when she had the ability to think. Thinking right now was pushed aside in favor of feeling, experiencing. Burning.

  Watching, her breath caught as his tongue licked over his lips, dampening them as his head lowered, lips parting.

  The first heated lick of his tongue against the berry-ripe flesh had her nails biting into his arm as she shook her head, fighting against the loss of control, against the weakness flooding her limbs.

  His lips covered the tight nipple, his mouth sucked at it, his tongue lashed it.

  “So good,” she whispered breathlessly, hearing the words, knowing she should clench her teeth against them, but unable to.

  His tongue curled around the tip, licked it with slow relish before his head lowered further and his lips surrounded the aching flesh.

  The moan that escaped her lips was tight, filled with desperation and a fight for breath. Pleasure seared her nerve endings and burned through her mind. The heated draw of his lips against her nipple was fiery and exhilarating.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, Tehya lifted her head, her lips finding the tough lobe of his ear and the sensitive flesh beneath.

  The taste of him was heady. Slightly salty, all male.

  Tunneling her fingers through the long hair at the back of his neck, feeling the slightly coarse roughness, the cool caress of each strand, added to the sensations whipping through her.

  She wanted to feel him all over her. His tongue licking her, oh, yes, just like that.

  His tongue rubbed at the too-sensitive peak of her nipple. He licked as though he loved the taste of her. His lashes lifted and the brilliant blue of his eyes was like a flame, burning in the center, filled with hunger.

  For her.

  “Jordan.” His name whimpered past her lips.

  She would have said more. She needed to say more. But before the words could form, his head lifted, his lips covered hers, and her senses became swamped with a sensual pleasure that burned straight to her soul.

  His arms surrounded her, held her tight to his chest as she turned to him, the heated tips of her breasts brushing erotically against the material of his evening jacket.

  A hungry moan escaped her, fed into their kiss as she struggled to move, to turn, her desperation to hold on to him, on to the pleasure only building.

  And he gave it to her.

  Jordan could feel the rising flames whipping through both of them. She was like a flame herself, flaming in his arms as he tugged at the skirt of her dress, jerking it over her thighs as she straddled him, her hands in his hair, her lips beneath his, her tongue licking at his.

  His cock was so damned hard it was a living ache, tortured and desperate as his hips jerked upward when the hot dampness of her pussy came over the heavy wedge. Nothing protected her from his possession but the material of his pants and the ultra-thin silk of her panties.

  The naturally bare folds of her pussy beckoned him, drew him. The lush heat radiating between her thighs had him nearly insane for her.

  How easy it would be to lay her back on the seat, spread those pretty thighs and tear the thin silk of her panties from the slick flesh awaiting him.

  The need to fuck her was clawing at him.

  His balls were tight, agonizing lust tore up his spine and clenched through his muscles.

  He was burning for her and only the possession of her would still the fire.

  Fuck that.

  The fire for her was never stilled.

  Tearing his lips from hers, Jordan quickly pushed his fingers into the long, silken curls of her hair, clenched, and held her in place as he stared back at her, watching as those beautiful green eyes opened with drowsy wonder.

  She looked as innocent as the day she had walked into the Elite Ops base six years before. She looked untouched, though he knew damned good and well she wasn’t. He’d taken her every chance he had, and still he hadn’t had enough of her.

  Would he ever touch her enough, take her enough, taste her enough to still the hunger that raged through him for her?

  “Don’t stop.” The longing in that soft whisper sent a shaft of pure lust jerking through his dick.

  “Not yet.” It was all he could do to force the words past his lips. “In our room.” Where she would be safe. Where he could take his time, where he could have her as he wanted her, every way he wanted her.

  Her lashes fluttered as he pulled at her hair again, pleasure washing through her expression.

  “It almost hurts,” she almost whimpered as near ecstasy transformed her face for a moment. “Just right there on the edge, Jordan.”

  His teeth clenched. Damn her. He didn’t know if he could wait. The pressure building in his cock was becoming agonizing, making the battle to hold on to his control one he wasn’t certain he would win.

  “I need you inside me, Jordan.” She rolled her hips, her pussy stroking over his cock, and he swore he felt rockets exploding in his head as his blood pressure hit the roof.

  A second later, her lips lowered, brushed against his, and whispered, “Fuck me.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  She was lost in her own need, he could see it, feel it as she moved against him.

  Her head tilted back, a moan vibrating in her throat as his hand tightened in her hair, the other going to her hip, clenching. Every intention he had of waiting flying out the window.

  If Nik hadn’t chosen that moment to pull into the hotel, Jordan knew he would have been lost.

  “We’re here,” Jordan groaned

  Moving quickly, he adjusted her dress, zipped it, and lifted her from his lap as he watched her fight to assimilate to the sudden change.

  Turning to her, he caught her face in his hand, held her still, and growled down at her. “The moment we’re in the room, that dress is going to your hips and that silk you call panties will be ripped from your thighs. Then, Tehya, I’ll fuck you. I’m going to bury myself inside you so deep, so fucking hard, that nothing else will exist for either of us.”

  “Nothing else exists for me now.”

  What the hell was he supposed to say? To explain to her the lesson the past had taught him well? To make her see, to understand that he couldn’t live the illusion, no matter how desperately he wished he could.

  Thankfully, he was saved from saying anything when the sound of the door opening drew him back to reality, to the existence of the world, and the danger surrounding them.

  His fingers caressed her cheek as he drew back, then slid from the car. Pausing to survey the area around them for a long second, Jordan then reached inside, gripped her hand, and helped her from the car.

  Tiny and graceful, her fingers tucked into his palm as she stepped into the cool night air.

  Like a sprite coming out to play. The violet hues of the gown flowed around her, emphasizing the abundance of mussed, long red-gold curls and mysterious green eyes.

  Lush, swollen lips, flushed cheeks. Sensuality bloomed around her, gleamed in her gaze, and transformed her features in a way that had every cell in his body throbbing in need of her.

  With Nik moving in behind her, Jordan rushed her to the door of the hotel and across the expensive lobby to the elev
ators.

  As they entered the hall, Micah straightened from his position against the wall, nodded to Nik, then took his place at Tehya’s back.

  Nothing left to chance.

  He couldn’t lose her. He could leave her. The time would come when he would have no choice, when the danger was over, and it would be time for him to go. He could do that. What he couldn’t do was survive if Tehya wasn’t breathing.

  Stepping into the vacant elevator, Jordan pulled her close to his side, feeling the fragility of her, the delicacy of her slight body, despite the stubborn will that he knew had turned her backbone to steel.

  “Noah’s checking the room,” Micah stated quietly as the elevator moved to the upper floor. “We had a bit of interest before you arrived. Our friends from Afghanistan attempted to slip upstairs.”

  “Did you catch them?” Violence swirled on the outer edges of the lust.

  “Unfortunately not.” Micah shrugged. “We will, though. They’re getting arrogant.”

  Jordan glanced at the top of Tehya’s head. Tension was building in her now, and it wasn’t the tension he wanted her to be filled with.

  Casting Micah a speaking look, he remained silent.

  He was thirty-eight years old. For more than twenty years, he’d been learning how to be the hunter and how to be the prey. He’d been no more than fifteen the first time a neighboring rancher and his hands had thought they could use Jordan as target practice.

  A lot of years, a lot of experience and knowledge.

  They would make their move soon, he knew. He was waiting on them.

  He’d felt it at the party. He could sense that the danger surrounding Tehya was beginning to escalate.

  The men watching them were watching things too closely now, there was a steadily growing tension beginning to mount around them.

  What they would attempt to do, he wasn’t completely certain. They were definitely after Tehya, and not to harm her. At least, not at first.

  There was something they wanted, and no matter how he tried, Jordan couldn’t figure out what she could possibly possess that they could want.