Deadlock (Uncommon Enemies: An Iniquus Romantic Suspense Mystery Thriller Book 3)

by Fiona Quinn

  Rooster pointed to Randy. “Randy’s my partner.”

  “I know, he told me.” She sent him a gentle smile. “That’s great. I’m glad for you both.”

  Meg was thoroughly confused when Rooster grinned at Randy, his chest and shoulders shaking. Was he laughing?

  Randy looked back at him. Then a light seemed to go on. “What? Wait. Woah. No, no, no. Rooster and I aren’t partners, we’re partners. We work for the same company. You know that. I date women. You know that too. You’ve seen pictures.” He stopped and looked at Rooster. “You thought Rooster and I were a couple?”

  Meg was so uncomfortable. She took a deep breath in and opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing that came out was an exhale.

  “How’d you know she thought that, Honey? Were you egging her on?”

  Rooster slapped his hand on the table and doubled over, he was laughing so hard.

  Randy’s brow was furrowed. “If I went for a man, you think Honey’s my type?”

  Rooster grabbed his stomach, trying to stay upright.

  Meg wanted an exit strategy. She stood up, trying to find an excuse, when she spotted the women’s room sign. She took a step in that direction when Rooster gently reached out his right hand to still her. He worked to sober his amusement. “Meg, come sit down.” When she didn’t comply, he said, “My call name is Honey. And you heard it as a pet name. You were absolutely right to get the wrong idea. But I’m not gay.” His eyes still glittered with amusement. But also, gentleness. And a warmth that Meg wasn’t expecting to see there.

  “Honey is your call name? But why?” She let him pull her back to her chair, and sat down, working to realign her thoughts with this new revelation.

  “From the honey badger. You’re an animal migration specialist, you’ll understand.”

  “They’re terrifying, they’ll take on lions. But they’re little. The males are about thirty pounds. And you’re…” She waved her hand over the length of his body. “Not.”

  “They’re small compared to the foes they go after. It’s a matter of scale. I might seem big to you, but my enemies are bigger.”

  “Rooster’s last name is Honig, which means honey in German.” Randy pointed his finger at Rooster. “This is a game of truth.”

  Rooster picked up the darts and stood up again. “You tell your truth. I’ll tell mine.”

  “You know, you two fight like an old married couple. You can understand why I’d get confused. The waiter’s coming over, can you get me a glass of water while I go to the ladies’?”

  As she walked away, Meg heard Randy say, “Go on and throw the darts, honey badger. I’ve got a few questions of my own.”

  ***

  Meg looked at her reflection in the mirror. She pinched her cheeks, and adjusted her dress before brushing her hair back and trying to scrunch a little body into it. Primping, huh? What are you thinking, girl? She’d had two days of stuffing her interest away because she’d misunderstood the situation. She stopped with her hand in her hair. Meg was definitely better at reading animals than people. People confused her.

  Okay, she’d let herself off the hook about her conclusions about Rooster, what with Randy calling him honey and all. But she’d felt that pull—the one that said this is going somewhere good—before he’d even spoken to her in the airport. Humans are animals, after all. And sexuality follows a standard sequence of behaviors in all primates. When she’d watched him walking toward her, she must have given him the opening cue with a flick of her hair and a flash of her neck. Yeah, her inner “I need to get laid, and you look like just the one to do it” must have shown up in her subconscious behavior.

  The more she scanned through their interactions, the more Meg realized they’d been doing a mating dance all along. She’d just convinced herself that he was being attentive because of her association with Randy. She pulled her lip gloss from her bag. “Girlfriend, this is probably going to end badly,” she muttered under her breath as she leaned in to swipe a little color onto her lips.

  She went to give her hair one last fluff when her mind went to the last guy who’d made an overt play for her, Momo Bouhran. Only he hadn’t been interested in her in the conventional way. His poorly masked plays had felt more predatory than intimate. He’d given her the willies. Standing by the side of Lac Assal, she’d felt endangered the whole time. Even her interpreter had seemed ill at ease. Rooster and Randy might know Momo, but they certainly weren’t friends. She knew that for sure. They were probably trying not to scare her by letting her know he was dangerous. The situation was over, after all, no need to warn her off.

  To be honest, she’d been scared a lot lately. Scared by her findings and their ramifications, scared by the atmosphere that she felt spreading as an undercurrent through the world. Meg decided that she’d be asking the guys what they knew about Momo with her next round of questions.

  She didn’t think she’d even need darts to get that information. Rooster would be honest with her if she asked him directly. Rooster. She sighed, she’d only have the climb up Kilimanjaro tomorrow, then the guys would be leaving the next morning. That’s damned depressing, Meg thought as she pushed back through the bathroom door. She’d better take advantage of what little time they had.

  Randy stood outside the bathroom waiting for her. “You good?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’m beat from the last few days. I’m going up to my room and ordering room service. What do you want to do?” he asked.

  “Is Rooster going up?”

  Randy sent a glance toward their table. “Nope.”

  “I think I’ll hang out with him for a while then.”

  “Have fun.” He kissed her cheek and headed off.

  When Meg walked back into the room, Rooster smiled at her. She slid into the chair next to him. “What did I miss? Randy was asking you a question when I left the room.”

  Rooster considered her for a long moment. “He was asking me what I thought about you.”

  “Good things, I hope.” Meg said.

  “He wanted to know how I felt about you.”

  “Ah, that was a different question, wasn’t it?” Meg’s face heated.

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I do want you to know how much I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I think you have a big heart and a sharp mind, and the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

  Meg looked into the warm depths of Rooster’s brown eyes. She found sincerity there. And concern.

  “I’m wondering if you can shift gears from thinking about me as a gay man.” He offered a lopsided grin. “If you’d want to shift gears, that is to say.” He tipped his head.

  Did she want to? Um. Yeah. She rested her hands on his thighs, balancing her weight as she leaned in to kiss him softly. She pulled back, hovering near his mouth, as a smile played at her lips. A hum of harmony moved through her, it was like the feeling she got when she finally unlocked her front door after a long trip, walked into her place and thought, it’s so nice to be home.

  She heard the waiter clear his throat. That kiss, while okay in America, was not okay here. “Muslim country,” she whispered. “How about we finish this conversation upstairs?”

  Rooster reached into his pocket as he stood. He lay the colorful Tanzanian shillings on the table. “Asante.” He thanked the waiter in Kiswahili and held out his hand to Meg.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Meg

  The Lounge, Ngorongoro Crater Imperial Hotel

  Meg slid her hand into Rooster’s. As they moved toward the elevator, Rooster scanned the room. His gaze settled into the darker shadows then swept along. She knew every glance was full of thought. Where’s the exit? Where’s cover? Where are the dangers? She had to think that way too when she was in the bush. Which animal might be stalking her? What would she do if she were attacked?

  Because of the time she spent with Randy, she was used to a soldier’s level of awareness. Randy said that after you’d been in a
hot spot for a long enough time, it was hard to ratchet down the vigilance. Randy was no longer code red whenever he was out in public, but code orange was probably his sticking place. Then Meg remembered the guys’ odd behavior in Zanzibar when Rooster watched the elevator stops and Randy was racing up the stairs. There had been a sense of danger to that moment that they had never explained to her. Now she wondered if Rooster’s code orange vigilance was grounded in habit or concern.

  Those thoughts vanished when Rooster pulled at her hand to tuck her under his arm. In primates, this was a claiming signal. It told all the other chimpanzees to back off. That thought sent a thrill through Meg as they moved toward the elevator, giving her whole body a tremble.

  “Are you cold?” Rooster asked, rubbing her arm and pulling her tighter to him.

  “I must have walked through a draft.” That was lame. Meg wished she was the kind of girl who was seductive and mysterious, the kind of girl who always seemed to win the hearts of the heroes in the movies. But she had always felt more geek than goddess divine.

  Studying animal behavior, Meg knew that females made the choices for mating. But males were picky too. They could and would fight amongst themselves, sometimes battling to the death for a particular mate. But that mate had to be desirable. Meg didn’t have the first clue how to make herself desirable. She’d not put a lot of thought into it because it never really mattered to her before. It mattered to her now. A lot. She wasn’t sure she could pull this off, and now here was her body betraying just how much she wanted Rooster to want her.

  The elevator doors slid open and they walked in. Rooster stood next to the panel and let his hand hover, he was waiting for her to tell him where to go. His room or hers. Beginnings were always awkward. She would feel more comfortable in her own territory. Meg reached into the evening bag that hung from a slender gold strap on her shoulder and pulled out her hotel card. “Room 508,” she said, handing it to him.

  With just the two of them in the elevator, Rooster tugged on her hand until she was standing in front of him, back to front, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight. Her body felt perfectly supported as she molded herself against him. She leaned her head onto his chest, and willed herself not to moan as his thumb glided up and down her stomach.

  The door dinged and they moved to her room, her nerves sizzling with excitement and a little panic. She had to decide where she was going to let this go. Time was an enemy; Rooster would be leaving the day after tomorrow. Randy was in her head. He’d taken off to give them some space. They were all adults. He probably knew what they’d be doing, and that was…just weird. And frankly, she didn’t do one or even two-night stands. Given her travel schedule, she’d turned into more of a “friends with benefits” kind of girl. True relationships were off the table. Deep feelings weren’t a consideration. And then suddenly, Rooster.

  Rooster swiped them in. Meg was still trying to figure out how this should best play out. She decided to follow Randy’s lead and order room service. She could use the time to have a nice intimate conversation and work forward from there. Give herself a little time to go from Rooster’s off-limits status to seemingly ready and available. She stood next to her bed and let her purse drop onto the nightstand. She laid her hand on the menu resting beside her phone. Turning, she looked up at Rooster, who had leaned a shoulder into the wall and was obviously waiting for her to set the pace.

  Her eyes slipped down his length. Oh my. As her gaze found his again, she said, “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?” Her voice came out in a low, breathy tone that made it clear that her libido had taken the reins and food wasn’t in the picture.

  Rooster sent her the most lascivious smile she’d ever seen. “Starving,” he said, pushing off the wall and stalking toward her.

  That got her blood flowing.

  He reached into his pocket and pitched a condom onto her bed. She followed the arc with her gaze. Okay. He had a destination. She was on board with that.

  She turned her head to look up at him and stopped breathing as his hands slipped under her arms and down her body until they rested on her hips. He pulled her against him, holding her there possessively as he leaned down to kiss her. Soft. Warm. Yes, that’s how she thought it would be. He was a gentleman. And Meg felt like challenging that.

  She had liked the predatory quality of his smile just then. It made her feel… As Meg searched for a word, she lifted onto her toes and crushed herself against him. Their lips met, and her hands came up to the sides of his head to hold him in place. Wanton. Yes, that was the word she read in books and scoffed at. Nobody actually felt that way, did they? It was a made-up word that writers used to describe fictional feelings. But oh god, this felt real. This was…surreal. Wonderful. This was amazing. She felt her toes curl in her high-heeled sandals.

  Rooster pulled away and held her gaze as he squatted down and ran his thumb up the back of her calf, up her thigh, dragging the silk of her dress with his hand. The sharp bite and the slick of fabric lit up her nervous system. The dress was whisked over her head, up into the air, and she saw it land neatly over the nightstand. He tangled his fingers into her hair as he leaned her backward to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue slick over her lips and into her mouth.

  Rooster lifted her up until they were face to face, his arms wrapped around her back, holding her tightly in place. She found herself laughing as he spun them around. His eyes were darkly intense, his gaze locked on hers for a long moment like he was drinking her in, filling a space with her. Somehow entangling her. She was buzzing. High on the hormones that flooded her body. Giddy. Meg didn’t understand what was happening. Her mouth dropped open as she panted.

  A slow smile spread across his face, then he closed his eyes to kiss her again as he let her slide back down to the ground. As her weight came to rest on her own two feet, Meg kicked off her heels. He had lifted her breasts, and was running his thumbs over the satin covering them. Their weight swelled, growing heavy. Her system was all fired up, ready to go. She reached around to unclasp her bra. This was no time for sultry teases, this was a time for action. She needed him then. Right then. No room for bashful first-time-with-this-guy jitters. Meg let her bra drop and reached for his shirt buttons. Her fingers shook as she worked to open the first, the second.

  Rooster seemed to feel the same imperative she did. He quickly had his cuffs undone and yanked the shirt over his head. Meg stepped back to admire his chiseled abs, the goody trail he revealed as he pushed his pants and boxers to his ankles. His dick bounced up against his stomach then pointed straight toward her. “Fuck,” she heard the word blow across her lips with her exhale.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Rooster lifted her up and laid her on the bed, reaching out to draw her lace panties down her legs. Slowly. Much too slowly. It was a torment. She pulled the bedspread into her fists and squeezed, trying to expel some of this energy. He was making her angry with frustration. She wanted him on top of her, not teasing her. He lifted her ankle and kissed her instep. She kicked at him. She didn’t want to play. She had serious needs.

  He chuckled as he brought his mouth back to her ankle. He ran his tongue up the length of her leg, then went back to the starting point to place warm kisses along the cooling line where the moisture was evaporating. Meg’s whole body trembled and a moan replaced her growl of displeasure. That stalled him again.

  She reached demanding arms to him but he shook his head.

  He pushed her legs farther apart, running his hands over her inner thighs, then rested his weight on his forearms between her legs.

  What? He looked like he was settling in. That’s not what she wanted. “Stop teasing me, Rooster, I’m ready. Already.”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. He stroked her thighs and kissed them until her muscles were taut. He stroked the pad of his thumb gently, reverently, over her swollen clit. The desperation she’d been feeling lost its bright edge as the sensations morphed into something warmer. Something much more connected than the bawdy tum
ble she’d envisioned since he stepped off the plane in Zanzibar.

  Rooster moved to his knees. The bed dipped under his weight. He lifted her leg and nuzzled the back of her knee. He made his way with slow kisses up her thigh. He stroked his hands over her body. He moved farther onto the bed until he could hold her in his arms.

  He lay a string of kisses across her brow, down the side of her face. Onto her lips. “The first time I thought about making love to you, I hadn’t even met you yet.”

  Meg ran her fingers through his dark-brown hair cut military tight, and so soft to her touch. She held his head to her neck as he nuzzled her. “Oh? How is that?”

  He pushed onto his elbow, his fingers played with her earlobe as his eyes moved around her face, from eyes, to nose, to cheekbones, to lips. He shifted himself and gave her a lingering kiss. “Randy showed me a picture of you laughing.” His lips were so close to hers that when he spoke she could feel them forming the words that made her feel precious. His hand moved down her throat over her shoulders and he cupped her breast, his thumb and finger rolling and teasing at her nipple. “I can pull that picture up at will. It was the easiest, most open, most joyful picture I’ve ever seen.” His hand moved down her body, over her hip to her thigh.

  He pulled her knee across him, then rolled until he was laying between her legs. He held his weight up with his elbows as he hovered there. “I have another picture of you in my head. We had just walked out of the Zanzibar hotel and you were standing like a jewel in front of the sun setting over the Indian Ocean. I want to paint that picture, but I could never do you justice.” He pushed back onto his heels, leaving Meg longing for his warmth and weight. “And now I have this picture. It’s the most beautiful of all. The look in your eyes is the sexiest thing.” He stopped to give her a wicked smile. “It’s also impatient.” He moved down and nipped at her nipple, slicking over the moment of pain with a soothing lick that made her moan. “You’ve been tormenting me since you slid your hand in mine at the airport.” He nuzzled her breast. “I won’t let you rush me. I plan to enjoy every inch of your body.”