Covert Vengeance

by Kaylea Cross

  Rounding the center island to stand in front of the apron-front sink, Megan stopped and faced her. “Well? What’s the problem?”

  “This,” she bit out, resisting the urge to drag a hand through her hair. “We just outlined a half dozen other ways to get this op done, and you’re hell bent on posing as bait.”

  “Because I know it’ll work, and so do you and the others.”

  “It’ll work the other ways, too.”

  “No, it won’t. At least not without a significant increase in risk to the team.”

  “And what about the risk to you? Huh?” Amber fired back. “Did you think about that?”

  Hurt flickered in Megan’s eyes, and Amber felt like she’d just kicked a puppy. “You don’t trust me?”

  “Of course I trust you! That’s not the point. Jesus. How can you not get that? You’re my sister and I just got you back!” She spun and paced to the end of the island, then turned to confront her sister again. “What about Ty? You think he wants to stand by and watch you do this? You think I want to watch you do it?”

  “Tyler will have my back. He knows I can do this. And you should too.”

  “We both know you can do it,” Amber snapped. “The point is, we don’t want you to. Okay?”

  Megan scowled. “Why the hell not? We get Stanislav, turn him over to Rycroft, and then we can finally get to the important part—finding the rest of us before it’s too late.”

  Amber paused and drew in a deep, steadying breath, her mind racing, pulse thudding in her throat. The emotions she’d tried to keep locked down were bombarding her, rushing closer to the surface with every heartbeat.

  She blamed Jesse. It was like he’d unlocked the vault she normally kept everything in back in the garage, and now she couldn’t shut the lid anymore.

  Staring at her sister, her whole chest ached. “You were already taken away from me once,” she began, horrified by the way her voice cracked but unable to keep it even. “I can’t let it happen again.”

  Megan’s whole demeanor shifted, understanding and empathy filling her expression. “Oh.”

  Embarrassed, Amber glanced away and cleared her throat. “I can’t lose you again. I won’t.”

  Megan pushed away from the sink and started toward her. Amber stiffened, feeling raw inside and out.

  But Megan didn’t stop, she came right over and wrapped Amber up in a big hug that made the backs of her eyes burn. “You won’t lose me,” she murmured, sounding confident. “Because you and Tyler and the others will all be there to make sure I’m safe.”

  “It’s too big a risk.” It should be her taking all the risk. She was responsible for Zoya’s death. She was the one Stanislav wanted. So she should be the one placing herself in immediate danger for this op.

  “It’s our best shot. And you need to be working your techy magic to make it happen. Besides, we’re out of time,” Megan pointed out, her calm tone doing nothing to slow Amber’s racing pulse. “We need to get organized and start moving so everything’s in place. This is the best plan we came up with. Now we just have to execute it. And there’s no one I trust more to keep me safe than you and Tyler.”

  God dammit, Amber hated that she was right. Stanislav hadn’t given them much time to plan this.

  Knowing the argument was lost, Amber gave a heavy sigh and hugged her sister to her, the top of Megan’s head coming to Amber’s cheekbone. Her chest hurt, as if her ribs were compressing her organs, and her stomach was in a knot.

  “If we do this, then you need to swear to me right here and now—on our parents’ lives—that you’ll put your safety before anything else. Or any of us, or Stanislav, whatever. If something goes sideways, you get out. Immediately.” She pulled back and arched a brow. “Hear me?”

  Megan made a face. “On our parents’ lives? That’s harsh, even for you.”

  Tough. “Swear it.” She wasn’t screwing around. She’d rather Stanislav escape and go free than risk anything happening to her sister. She’d rather die than let anything happen to Megan.

  Megan’s expression sobered, and she nodded once. “Fine, I swear.”

  It was the most assurance Amber was going to get. “All right.” She nudged Megan with her elbow. “You get hurt, I’ll kill you.”

  Together they walked back into the room where the others were waiting. Megan went up to Ty, curved an arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest. He slid his around her shoulder, his expression hard. Distant. Definitely as unhappy about this whole thing as Amber was.

  “So, it’s plan alpha?” Trinity asked them, and received dual nods in answer. “All right, then, let’s break it all down and get started.”

  Amber spent the next hour organizing her electronics and planning her attack. She was going to have to clear the entire area around the meeting point and disable all the electronics and cameras in that area to hide them during the takedown.

  Jesse would provide security and backup for her while she worked. Ty would be with Megan. Georgia and Bautista would act as sniper and spotter and provide the team with an extra set of eyes from above.

  Trinity would be nearby handling logistics and comms, and Kiyomi would be back here at Laidlaw Hall providing overview and mission support with Marcus’s help. She wasn’t up to anything physical, and in Amber’s opinion should still be in bed recovering, but Kiyomi had insisted on helping somehow.

  They broke into teams, ran through everything one last time as a group, then everyone else left the room to gather what they needed.

  Megan paused and shot her a confident smile near the door. “See you on the other side, I guess?”

  She meant after the op was over, but her wording sent a chill straight through Amber’s heart. “Remember what you promised.”

  Megan snorted. “Yeah, I remember. Jeez, were you always this bossy?”

  “Yes.” She met Ty’s gaze in the doorway, inwardly cringed at the accusation there. Are you seriously going to let this happen? his expression said.

  When she didn’t respond he turned away and stalked down the hallway. Megan stared after him, winced when he slammed the front door behind him. “I should…” She pointed a thumb toward the door.

  “Go after him,” Amber said, more guilt settling on her shoulders. She stood there staring at Megan’s back until her sister slipped out of sight and out of the house.

  At the hushed footsteps beside her, she glanced over at Jesse. He came up, cupped her cheek in his big hand, his eyes searching hers. “You okay?”

  She lowered her gaze. There was no point in lying or pretending, he already knew the truth. “I don’t like this.”

  “I know you don’t. But she’s gonna be okay. Know why?”

  “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

  “No.” His eyes filled with sudden fire, his features tightening. “Because that fucker’s not going to get close enough to touch either one of you. He’ll have to get through me first.”

  No one had ever stood between her and a threat to protect her before. That he would willingly endanger—even sacrifice himself to keep her safe turned her inside out.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, drawn so tight inside she feared she might break. “I’m not worth it.”

  He went dead still, his expression darkening. “Don’t you ever say that. Not ever.”

  It was true but she didn’t have time to reply, because his lips smothered anything she might have said. The raw, forceful kiss knocked her off balance, left her clutching at his shoulders for balance while he took her mouth. She met his blazing passion with everything she had, straining against him, arousal punching through her.

  Jesse gripped her hip and spun her around. She had the sense of moving backward, then they were inside a small room. A linen closet, with only a single bare bulb illuminating the space.

  They reached for each other’s shirts at the same time, the whisper of shifting fabric mixing with their panting breaths as they tore each other’s clothes off. She dove a hand b
etween them, grasping the hot, thick length of him in her hand. He hissed out a breath, his mouth still fused with hers, and pushed into her grip.

  His hands closed around her hips, and she thrilled at the way he lifted her, pinning her back to the wall while he plastered his body to hers, the heated ridge of his erection sliding between her slick folds. She was drunk on his scent, the feel of him as he rolled on a condom and pushed into her.

  He cut off her strangled cry of triumph and pleasure with another searing kiss, his hips rocking as he began to thrust gently, her hand sliding between her thighs to stroke herself while they frantically raced to the peak together. It was hot, risky, anyone walking by able to hear them.

  She didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything but the magic of them together, of the beautiful rise in pleasure as he pushed her higher, higher, until she was trembling on the verge of a shattering release.

  She choked out his name when the orgasm hit, bucking into his hold as the waves took her. Every stroke over her inner sweet spot drew it out, made it better. Jesse sank his teeth into the curve of her shoulder and groaned low and long, all male power and hunger as he shuddered.

  Amber clung to him in the dimness, wrecked in the aftermath. With their gasping breaths and the thundering of her heart filled her ears, she knew she’d staked her claim on him as much as he had her.

  And worse, now he had her dreaming of a life together if she survived what was coming.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tyler was more than halfway down the driveway when Megan exited the house. He knew she was behind him—the man hadn’t lost his sharpness since his SF days and had excellent hearing—yet he didn’t look back or slow down.

  She huffed out an annoyed breath and maintained her normal, quick pace, refusing to call out or jog to catch up with him. He was pissed about this whole op but he was just going to have to get over himself and fucking deal with it already. They had work to do.

  He turned right near the end of the driveway and cut across the expanse of lawn leading to the gatehouse rather than taking the brick pathway. Then he went inside and shut the door even though he knew damn well she was thirty seconds behind him.

  The action was like a match strike to her temper.

  Oh, hell no.

  Setting her jaw, Megan picked up her pace, flung open the door, marched inside and then slammed it behind her for good measure, the sound carrying in a satisfying echo through the house. She kicked off her shoes in the mudroom and entered the kitchen, scanning for her target. Footsteps overhead indicated he was already upstairs, probably in their room.

  He could run, but he couldn’t hide.

  Her temper pushed from a simmer to a rolling boil by the time she made it up the staircase to their room. Their first fight—well, their first fight since they’d officially gotten together—and it happened right before an op. She was already keyed up about what was coming. Her fingers were all sore and bloody where she’d picked her cuticles raw.

  The door was shut.

  Fuming, she shoved it open and stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips to confront him.

  Only he wasn’t there.

  Even more frustrated, she stomped through their room to their walk-in closet at the back and mirrored that same pose. Tyler ignored her, his back to her as he methodically packed things he presumably needed for the trip to London and subsequent op. “You planning on sulking the rest of the day, or can we move on and skip that part?”

  Without a word he reached for the lock box on the top shelf where he kept his personal weapons and ammo, the only sign that he’d heard her the slight flexing of his jaw.

  “Hello?” she demanded.

  Nothing.

  The urge to grab something and throw it at him was almost overwhelming. “God, this is so unattractive.”

  He shoved everything into a duffel and turned toward her, looking straight past her as he headed for the doorway.

  She didn’t budge, blocking his way.

  He stopped in front of her. “Excuse me.”

  His voice was cold. So cold that the anxiety she’d been battling erupted like a geyser inside her, making her heart pound and her guts clench. “No.” She held her ground. Look at me, dammit. Talk to me. I can’t have you mad at me when I’m about to do an op.

  He tried to push past her but she blocked him again. He stopped, let out a frustrated sigh and met her gaze.

  The seething resentment in his eyes made her stomach drop. He was way beyond sulky or pissed. He was furious. Angrier than she’d ever seen him, and they’d been through a lot in their time together.

  She forced the quivering insecurity aside and made a scoffing sound. “This is stupid.” No, it was bullshit. And while she might not be a genius at making a relationship work, she didn’t deserve the cold shoulder from him.

  She reached out a hand, intending to place it on his chest, to forge some kind of connection and break through the wall of his anger.

  He edged back. “Don’t,” he warned, his eyes drilling into hers.

  All her anger subsided, his rejection and withdrawal slicing deep. She pulled herself together and lifted her chin, going for reason to melt his icy restraint. “You need to get a grip. Because this is happening, and I need you to be on board.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his expression so hard it could have been chiseled out of stone. Then he looked past her and turned sideways to walk out of the closet.

  A flare of panic lit up her chest. She grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “Tyler—”

  He whipped around to face her so fast that she jerked her hand back. The raw fury in his eyes slammed all the air out of her lungs. “I said don’t.”

  What the hell? She understood he didn’t like the plan, or that she was putting herself at risk, but it was too late to change things now. Everything was already in motion and they would be leaving soon.

  As good at compartmentalizing as she was, she was incapable of pretending this didn’t bother her. It would throw her off her game when she needed to be sharpest tonight. “You don’t,” she fired back. “It’s not fair for you to shut me out just because you don’t like what’s happening. You knew what to expect when we got together. You knew I was still going to operate—that I wasn’t going to quit that part of my life for you. And in case you’ve forgotten, I can handle myself—”

  His low growl was her only warning.

  He dropped the bag, grabbed the back of her head with one hand and brought his mouth down on hers.

  She stiffened in shock for a moment. Her palms automatically went to his chest to push him back, but he locked his free arm around her waist, hoisted her off her feet and walked her backward toward their bed.

  Arousal and relief punched through her in a dizzying rush.

  She barely had time to wind her legs around his hips, his voracious, desperate kiss turning her heart inside out. They hit the bed, him on top of her. He blanketed her with his heavy weight, pinning her beneath him as his tongue plunged into her mouth. Her body responded immediately, a heady rush of endorphins and need rocketing through her.

  It was frantic and wild, so different from anything she’d ever experienced with him before. He shoved her clothes out of the way, his mouth voracious as it moved over her body. His hands pushed her thighs apart, a low, guttural growl sounding in his throat as he buried his face between them.

  Megan gasped and sank a hand into his hair, a shaky moan leaving her as she gripped the bedding with her free hand to anchor herself. It felt like she was about to fly apart, her heart hammering, lungs heaving. Just when she was getting close, he shoved his jeans down his legs and moved upward, grabbing her knees and locking them over his tightly bunched shoulders.

  Both her hands shot to the center of his chest and she tensed, bracing for him to slam into her. She didn’t want to stop this. She wanted to ease him. Soothe him. She wasn’t sorry she was taking the lead on the op, but she was sorry to hurt or upset him.

 
; Tyler stilled, staring down at her. His eyes glittered with desire, his face taut with it. He was breathing hard, his lips glistening from going down on her. But then he cupped the back of her head and sealed his mouth to hers in a dominant, somehow still tender kiss as he entered her, their position putting her completely at his mercy.

  She loved every second of it.

  She whimpered into his mouth, their position pinning her, making him seem twice as big as he buried his length inside her. He shuddered, a low moan rolling out of him, his tongue twining with hers.

  She lifted into him, starting the rhythm, the delicious pressure coiling tighter low in her belly with each stroke. His free hand delved between their bodies to find her clit, each glide of his fingers making the pleasure burn sweeter, hotter.

  In seconds, she was teetering on the brink. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow or whisper sensual or romantic things in her ear. He took her mouth as he took her body, with the single-minded determination of a man bent on her surrender.

  Megan didn’t even try to resist. She softened, opened herself to the pleasure and to him, calling out his name as ecstasy spiraled through her. He nipped at her jaw, his stubble scraping along her skin, then he lifted his head to stare down at her.

  Hypnotized, Megan could only stare back, lost in the moment, reveling in the possessive way he held her, the look in his eyes. He was just as much hers as she was his.

  His thrusts quickened. His eyes closed and his head tipped back. He shouted out his release and shuddered, all those beautiful muscles bunching, then slowly relaxed.

  Breathing hard, he slid her legs from his shoulders and came down on top of her with a groan, his face in her hair.

  Whoa.

  She pushed out a shaky exhalation and cradled him to her, stroking his damp back and shoulders. He’d needed that. They both had. She just wished he hadn’t been so angry with her beforehand.

  “Love you,” she whispered. Was she forgiven now?

  He groaned and tunneled his arms beneath her back, crushing her to him. “Love you too.”

  Her whole body sighed in relief. She kissed the side of his face, her anxiety swirling away. “Feel better now?”