Mayhem's Desire: Operation Mayhem

by Lindsay Cross

  Focus, Hicks. Focus.

  There was a reason he was here. He had a job to do - to get Dr. Averton’s sister to safety. The sooner he accomplished this mission, the better… for both of them.

  “Someone broke into your apartment?” Maybe if he said the words out loud, his torturous body would get the message and stay on task.

  “Yes,” she said in a husky whisper that had him leaning forward.

  He threaded a hand through his hair, trying to shake the attraction. He’d gone way too long without a woman. Way, way too long. “Okay, let’s get you out of here. As soon as you’re safe, I’ll come back and take care of everything.”

  “No!” Whitney bit her lip and Hicks nearly fell to his knees. He wanted to bite that lip—he wanted to suck on it and draw a moan from her.

  “It’s okay. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.” She’d started trembling again, like her knees would give out any second.

  “It’s not that – I just – I need to get my cat. I can’t leave him up there.”

  Hicks tamped down on the small surge of frustration her words caused. “Whitney, your cat will be fine. You, on the other hand, will not.”

  What was it with women and their animals anyway?

  “Hicks, I can’t leave him.” She leaned toward him, her soft curves pressing against his bicep in a way that made his toes curl in his boots. “Please, can you take me up there?”

  From the way, she stared up at him with those flushed cheeks, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Even in the bright fluorescent light in the bathroom, her pupils dilated. But he’d be damned if he’d act on his base instincts here in the bathroom.

  He’d check out her apartment and make sure she was safe and then—then he’d put her against the wall and kiss her till they both were senseless.

  He cleared his throat, stepping out of the stall in the hope it would give them both enough time to collect themselves. “Fine, tell me his name. I’ll go get him and bring him to you.”

  Whitney adjusted the strap on the tiny purse he hadn’t even noticed she was wearing and eased out of the stall. “I’m going with you. You’ll never catch him, he hates men.”

  “You’re not going.” Didn’t she understand how unsafe she would be? “Your sister sent me to protect you, not escort you into danger.”

  Her lips firmed and he could practically see the thoughts buzzing around in her head. She wasn’t ready to give up.

  “I’m assuming you’re in some kind of securities profession?”

  He’d been expecting her to beg but her question caught him off guard. He let out a cautious, “Yes.”

  “And you’ve dealt with this sort of situation before?”

  “Multiple times, which is why I know better than to allow you back up there.” Hick’s crossed his arms over his chest, exuding as much calm focus as he could muster. He’d witnessed enough devastation in his life to last twenty lifetimes. He had no intention of allowing any person under his watch to fall into harm.

  “And you’re pretty good at your job, I’m guessing, or you wouldn’t still be here.” Whitney studied her nails, everything about her tone and gestures nonchalant. But Hicks could feel the waves of energy flowing through her.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “My sister seems pretty confident in your abilities to protect me.” She flicked her nails, still avoiding his gaze.

  He could toss her over his shoulder and haul her ass to the car right now, effectively ending her charade, but he was too curious to see where her line of questioning was leading. “Yes, she is.”

  Whitney looked up, her deep blue eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Then you are confident you could protect me from harm?”

  “Of course,” he said. He would protect her with his life if needed.

  “Perfect. Come on then.” Whitney brushed past him and pulled open the bathroom door. “I’ve got the key.”

  Hick’s caught the door mid swing and followed her out, watching the way her long legs flexed as she sauntered across the lobby in those sexy-ass heels. “Where are you going?”

  “To my apartment.” She flung the words over her shoulder.

  “Whitney-” Hicks wanted to shout. He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her.

  She strode across the classy lobby and punched the button to the farthest elevator on the left. The door slid open immediately and she stepped inside.

  He jogged to catch up, slapping a hand in front of the elevator door before it slammed in his face. Shit, he hoped the elevator ride was a short one. Being trapped in an enclosed space with her for much longer might make his control slip. Hicks clenched his jaw, fighting the burning desire and frustration. “You will stay with me the whole time, do you understand?”

  “Of course, I’m not an idiot.”

  Sassy and sexy. Damn.

  She eased the gold card into the slot and 35 lit up on the number board. So much for it being a short ride. Hicks cleared his throat. “Penthouse?”

  “Yes, I probably should’ve told you that. I’m the only one with access to this elevator and it opens directly into my apartment.” She didn’t say that with any snobbery or pride that he could detect. She was letting him know to prepare him, nothing more or less.

  “Do what I say when I say it.” He pulled his Beretta from the holster at his hip and her eyes went wide. Shit, women like her probably didn’t see guns very often. And here he was in his full training gear—black shirt, tactical pants, boots, and weapons. He probably looked like some kind of assassin.

  But maybe a little dose of fear was a good reminder of just how dangerous the situation could become. “Where do you think the cat will be?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s probably hiding.”

  The light beeped as they passed the thirty-second floor. “Get behind me. If I tell you to run, you get your ass to this elevator with or without the cat and don’t come back. Understood?”

  “Yes.” She moved behind him just as the doors dinged open into a darkened apartment.

  Even though the lights were off, he could clearly see the destruction. What must’ve been a very expensive vase lay shattered on the floor just past the large entry table. Other random knickknacks were scattered around, and through the darkness, he could clearly see her living area was in disarray.

  She pressed in close to his back, almost touching, and he could feel every inch of her skin as if it were vibrating in the air around him.

  “Do you want me to turn on the lights?” she whispered.

  “No, dark is better.” The darkness was his friend. It would camouflage them as they moved throughout the apartment. Plus, though he wasn’t about to say so, he could see as well in the night as he could in the day. That little side effect from Project Mayhem would surely freak her out, but he just thought it was cool. The changes in his body gave him certain advantages over his enemy—he could see, hear, and smell better. He was able to detect his targets before they even knew he was within reach.

  The enhanced senses were, simply put, awesome. It was all the other side effects he didn’t like. Certain shades of light affected him severely, and when he was in thick crowds, his brain would sometimes fritz out, wracking him with pain. Dr. Averton had explained it like a sensory overload, but in truth, she didn’t know why he and his team couldn’t handle certain situations.

  And then there was that other side effect…the one that kept him up at night. The trigger that they didn’t understand.

  “Stay close,” he said in a low tone and began moving deeper inside, aware of her every move as she followed him.

  What once must’ve been a luxury apartment now lay in shambles. The bastard who’d ransacked the place had destroyed everything. Ripped open throw pillows and cushions littered the floor. Her TV screen had been busted and sat at an odd angle inside an enormous floor-to-ceiling cabinet to the right. Hicks paused just inside, listening for any movement.

  There was none.

  He cou
ldn’t detect a single other human in the place beside Whitney, but he wasn’t going to rely only on his senses in this circumstance. He hadn’t wanted to consider the fact there might be others out there like him, able to detect heart beats through walls, but General Rainier wasn’t a stupid man. The likelihood he’d created more men like Hicks and his team was a real possibility.

  And Rainier needed Dr. Melissa Averton badly. Going after her sister would almost guarantee a response from Team Mayhem. But that would also mean Rainier knew Hicks’ team was near enough to respond and was looking to draw them out, a fact that was near impossible.

  They’d hid well and barely left base, astutely avoiding public places and people. More than likely, Whitney was the victim of a robbery.

  He moved through the large kitchen, noting that the drawers were pulled out and the utensils scattered across the floor. Every inch of the place had been ransacked.

  His instincts fired high on alert. Vandals and robbers pilfered houses looking for valuables in cash, but this calculated annihilation was purely intended to deliver ruin. Whitney Averton had an enemy.

  He kept his gun high as he crept through the apartment, scanning every possible hiding spot for signs of the intruder. Finally, he moved into her bedroom. The first thing that caught his attention was that the low-profile bed and mattress had been cut open. Her clothes and personal items were flung across the room.

  She gasped, and he was struck by the thought of how shocking this must be for her. She started to tremble, and it was all he could do not to turn and take her into his arms and comfort her. Someone with this amount of destructive power could very easily be hiding, intending to bring harm to Whitney, and he would not allow that to happen.

  She grabbed the back of his shirt and balled her hands into fists, pulling the fabric tight across his stomach and chest, but he didn’t care. He was glad to be her anchor.

  He kept moving into a large, open bathroom. In the darkness, he could see the words “you’re mine” scrawled across the mirror in red lipstick. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention.

  He cleared the room quickly, and before Whitney could offer to turn on the lights again, he sent out another wave of senses, listening for any sign of her intruder.

  But the only sound was Whitney’s frantic pulse thrumming in her veins. He could feel her fear. He’d cleared the whole apartment. They were safe for now.

  “He’s not here. You’re safe.” Hicks reached around his back and eased her grip on his shirt, turned and faced her in the process. He tucked his Beretta into his holster and took her into his arms.

  She tucked her head under his chin without protest and pleasure detonated in his chest. She wasn’t some dainty thing he had to worry about crushing in his arms—she fit him perfectly.

  The slight smell of vodka clung to her, barely there but strong enough for him to detect. The scent of spiced honey was much more powerful. She smelled like a hot summer day.

  And he was getting scorched by her heat.

  Damn, he’d die if he didn’t kiss her right now. Hicks leaned back and gently tipped up her chin with his finger, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted to. When he was an inch from her mouth, her eyes slid shut, and her warm breath caressed his skin. With a soft groan, he lowered his head the rest of the way and gently brushed his lips against hers, tasting her satin-soft skin. His lips buzzed with electricity that zipped through his entire body, making it hard, tight, and aching.

  Of their own accord, his fingers speared her hair and he took her mouth in a fierce act of primal possession. Her arms went around his neck and her breasts pressed hard against his chest. As their tongues danced, she pulled him closer, her need as strong as his.

  She made him want to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t know a thing about her other than that she was Dr. Averton’s sister.

  Her nails dug into the back of his neck and he stopped thinking about anything other than how good she felt.

  His free hand skimmed down her waist to her hip and then around to her generous ass, which he cupped and squeezed, and as if reading his mind, she lifted for him and wrapped her legs around his waist. That move put her core in direct contact with his hardness through his pants, sending an intense spike of pleasure through him that almost bordered on pain.

  He needed more of her. He needed to rip that dress off her and feel her skin pressed against his. He needed to be inside her.

  He lifted her higher with that one hand, easily holding her in place as he tore his mouth from hers. He went to the nearest empty wall and propped her against it, pinning her in place just like he’d imagined doing in the bathroom downstairs. “Tell me to stop,” he growled.

  She tugged on his hair and arched her back, lifting her chin up so that her lips parted and her eyelashes lowered. “No, please don’t stop.”

  Sweet Jesus, he wasn’t a man who could turn down an offer twice. Not when he wanted her so bad. He fumbled for the zipper on the back of her dress and couldn’t find it. When he let out a soft curse, she chuckled. “It’s on the left side.”

  “Why does it have to be so complicated?” he bit out, sliding his hand around underneath her left arm until he found the zipper.

  She arched, pressing herself tighter against his hardness. “Because anything worth having is worth working for.”

  “Damn right.” He grabbed the zipper between his thumb and finger and slid it down, then slipped his hand into her dress and around her waist, her skin like smooth silk beneath his callused palm.

  Her every hitch, every gasping breath made him that much harder.

  He trailed gentle kisses along her jawline and down the smooth curve of her neck, eased the strap of her dress down her arm, and then kissed his way across her collarbone. When he reached the other side, he did the same.

  Whitney pulled her arms free without him asking, her beautiful breasts straining against the cups of her midnight lace bra.

  Trembling like he was opening his first Christmas present, he set her on her feet and slipped the dress off. She was a goddess bathed in the dim glow of moonlight spilling in from the open curtains in the bedroom behind her. He yanked his tucked in shirt from his pants and slowly lifted it over his head.

  Her fingers skimmed over his chest and his abdomen before circling around his shoulders and arms. She trailed gentle kisses across his torso, went to her knees, and unbuckled his pants.

  Imagining her mouth wrapped around his cock, how her hot little tongue would slide over him, had his knees going weak.

  She snapped the button free, zippered down, and his heart nearly beat out of his chest. If he let her take him in her mouth, he’d come like a teenager in thirty seconds. Game over. Shit, he might lose it as soon as she touched him with those soft hands.

  He needed to take control before he lost it completely.

  She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, but before she could yank them down, he reached underneath her arms and picked her up. Her chest brushed against his, her beautiful breasts pressed against his flesh, and he allowed his mouth to claim hers once more. Then, without planning it, he found himself carrying her into her bedroom, their mouths sealed together as one.

  But when they reached the doorway, he just stood there, still holding her against him, staring down at her as raw desire carved into his chest.

  She grabbed his hand and placed it over her breast, encouraging him to keep going. That small gesture was all the permission he needed. His fingers tightened, squeezing her breast, and she arched into his touch, moaning out her pleasure. “Kiss me.”

  He hooked a finger in the corner of her bra and yanked it down, exposing her large dusky nipple. It begged for his mouth, tightening under his gaze. He lifted her against him so that her breasts were level with his face as he drew her into his mouth, sucking harder and harder. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she made little moaning sounds that made his cock twitch.<
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  He reached around behind her back and unclasped the bra, yanking it roughly from her body and tossing it aside. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he held her up so he could devour her.

  “Hicks, I want to touch you,” she said breathlessly. But he didn’t want to let go of her nipple—it felt too fucking good in his mouth. She pulled away and he was forced to release her. He tossed her on the bed and she let out a squeal of delight, landing on the mattress with a bounce.

  Only to immediately sink into the long cut in her mattress.

  “Hicks! I’m stuck?”

  She was most definitely stuck. Her butt and torso had sunk into the cut, leaving her arms and legs splayed out. Damn if she wasn’t sexy even like that.

  “So you are,” he said and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  She struggled, attempting to buck out of the hole with no success. He enjoyed seeing her struggle, not because he liked to see her restrained like that but because every time she moved those beautiful breasts swayed and jiggled.

  “Hicks?” Her desperate plea drew him to the bed. He reached down and pulled her out with one easy tug, regretfully standing her on her feet. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to make much use of that thing.”

  Her dark blue eyes flashed with fire. “Obviously not.”

  Sensing her irritation, he yanked her against his chest and kissed her until she melted in his arms. “Why don’t we get some clothes on you and I’ll take you back to my place?” Because he had no intention of stopping tonight, but there was a minute chance that her stalker could come back. It was enough of a risk that they didn’t need to stay here.

  He’d lost his mind for a second there, so completely overcome with need.

  “I like that plan.” She slid her arm around his neck, rubbing her body suggestively against his.

  Hicks growled, grabbed her hips and pushed himself hard against her core. “Get some clothes on before I change my mind.” And take her right here.

  “Lights on,” she said. Bright golden light flooded the room, and her face went slack as she took in the destruction around her. “Oh my God.”