Sierra Cartwright - Hawkeye 01 - Danger Zone

by Sierra Cartwright

  “You mentioned that,” he said dryly.

  “But you’re not a petty dictator. You’ll tell Hawkeye I did my job and that I did it with exceptional service.”

  “And the utmost respect for Hawkeye’s client,” he added.

  “That, too.” She smiled cheerfully. “The reason you’ll write a glowing report about me is because I’m one of the few individuals on the face of the planet who’ll tell it to you straight. You’re behaving --”

  “Like an ass. Yeah. Got it. Thanks.” He loosened the cinch holding his hair back; then he readjusted it. She saw the nervousness in the gesture, the first betrayal of emotion she’d ever seen from him.

  “You’re scared of what you feel for Nate, and maybe for me, too. You’re in love with him and you’re halfway there with me.”

  “You really --”

  “Do have delusions of grandeur? Yes, I do” She nodded. “It’s actually one of my finer traits.” The coffeepot gurgled in the background. “I see the way you look at Nate, especially when you don’t think anyone is watching you. I know you two have a history. If you didn’t, this animosity, this push and pull, wouldn’t seethe between you. During a scene, he’s completely devoted to you, submissive in a way that doesn’t come from a place that he just wants to have fun, it comes from a place of truly wanting to serve. Because he’s in love with you. It’s amazing to see. If you were honest with yourself, if not me, if not Nate, you’d admit it to yourself, Stone.”

  She poured him a cup of the wicked-strong brew and handed it to him; then she poked him in the chest, making him struggle to keep the coffee from sloshing over the rim. “Last night, when I came into the great room, you two were having an intense discussion. I heard pieces of it, enough to know that you’ve shut him out before. No one can make decisions for you. But Nate won’t put up with this much longer. Unless you want to be alone and miserable, which is totally your choice, you owe him an explanation.” She checked the clock. “You screwed up. Fix it. I’m going for a run before dark.”

  “That’s it? You’re going for a run? You drop a bomb like that. Tell me you think I screwed up with Davidson and that you believe I’m halfway in love with you --”

  “Three-quarters by now.”

  “You deserve a spanking.”

  “I usually do.” She ignored the little jump her insides made at his pseudothreat. Being naked with Stone was one of her favorite things on the planet, she’d learned. “Later.” She headed for the front door, despite the fact she despised running. Hated everything about it, especially in Denver where there was something like seventeen percent less oxygen in the air than there was at sea level.

  He looked good with a bruise on his chin. She’d forgotten to tell him that.

  Chapter Ten

  Stone never apologized. So when he made the attempt, he didn’t do it well.

  But Fagan was right. He’d handled things badly with Davidson. Stone took another long drink of the vile stuff she’d brewed, then dumped the rest of the cup’s contents down the drain. After all, he wasn’t the masochist.

  He took a breath. Then he untied and retied the strip of leather at his nape before heading for the workout area.

  For a few minutes, he stood in the entryway, propping his shoulder against the doorjamb.

  Nathaniel Davidson was a handsome man. Tall, lean, blond, and his eyes, blue like the deepest Colorado day, danced with devilment at times, and at others they probed relentlessly. Stone had seen trust there, trust and respect. And now, as he threw a final punch at the red bag hanging from the ceiling, Stone saw wariness in Davidson’s eyes. “You have a wicked right cross.”

  “If I hadn’t checked it, you’d still be on the floor.”

  He nodded and rubbed the ache in his jaw. If he hadn’t deserved it, he’d have taken out Davidson before the fist landed.

  He pushed off from the doorjamb. “I was wrong.”

  “Which time?”

  He winced. “Most specifically, today. Earlier. You’d brought it up before. Trust. I should have mentioned, before breakfast, that I knew I’d have to testify today.”

  Davidson grabbed a towel and draped it around his neck.

  Stone hated this, despised the wall standing between them that he’d caused. This morning he’d woken in bed, the other man’s limbs tangled with his. And now he wasn’t sure they’d ever get the intimacy back.

  He reached for the leather at his nape only to realize he’d already retied it once. “I came to apologize.”

  “Stick your apology. You don’t mean it. But we deserve answers. Why’d you do it? Why’d you keep me out? And Kayla? You’d skin us alive for the same infraction, and with justifiable cause.”

  “Honestly?”

  Nate dragged the towel across his brow. “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t want the morning to end.”

  “What?”

  “I knew the minute we got the news, things would change.”

  “Stone, that’s the lamest, biggest crock of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

  He shrugged. “There it is, Davidson. On the table. Do with it what you want. Wasn’t about me keeping you and Fagan out of the loop. Think about it, man. Hawkeye was going to contact you. We both know it.”

  “Which makes your excuse all the more ridiculous.”

  “Say you’re right. So what the hell other reason would I have?”

  Davidson took a step forward. “Maybe, boss, because you’re scared shitless of what you feel for me? Because you know I love you. And you know you love me. And you don’t know what the hell to do about it. Any step now either ends the relationship or deepens it, and turns your insulated world upside down. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want the morning to end.” He balled his towel and threw it half-heartedly in the direction of the hamper. “I’ll tell you this. A decision not to take any action is a decision. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Stone stepped aside.

  He caught Davidson’s scent…of clean sweat, of man, of his lover…

  The evening sucked.

  Davidson and Fagan watched television in the living room, not in the downstairs home theater, in between checking with the rest of the Hawkeye team. They made their rounds, were constantly on alert. But they also made popcorn and ignored his sorry ass.

  As a man who’d commanded dozens of these operations, he couldn’t fault their behavior.

  As a man who’d never been protected before, he wanted to tear a strip from someone’s hide. Maybe from two hides…

  Pacing, simmering with impotent anger, he went to bed early, leaving the door open a crack.

  Hours later, he was aware of Davidson and Fagan going to bed together…in the room across the hallway and without him.

  * * * * *

  “Cut him some slack,” Kayla said. She was trying to do as she advised Nate. But being patient with someone when your heart was breaking was close to impossible.

  They were in the bedroom she’d claimed, buried beneath the covers, aware of Stone only a few feet away in the room across the hall. “He tried,” she said. “He did the best he could do.” She lay on Nate’s shoulder, cradled against his body. He’d showered, so he was warm from the water, and smelled of a rainstorm.

  “Cut him some slack?” Nate demanded. “He’s doing the same thing he did last time we were together. No decision. Doesn’t deal with anything. Won’t commit. Afraid of being hurt. Fuck that. You know what? I’m the lame one. I told him he was, but the truth is, I am. I believed he was capable of loving and committing, despite everything to the contrary. I thought I was capable of being with him and keeping my emotions out of it. I actually volunteered for this.”

  He needed to vent, and she would listen. Nate was right, Wolf had been way out of line, but to be fair, he’d never made promises, he’d never even invited either of them to this party. In fact, he’d tried to send her away, tried to send Nate away. None of that excused his behavior, but it helped explain it.

  “You want to know the w
orst thing about all this?” Nate asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ll do it again. Again and again. I’m so freaking crazy about him, I’ll walk away, but if we’re thrown together, I’ll drop my pants and let him fuck me.”

  “Let him?”

  “Beg him to.”

  “No need to explain it to me,” she said. “Emotions clutter a whole bunch of things. They can make rational thought impossible. I don’t have the history with Stone that you do, but I feel his pull. I want more.” She spread her palm on Nate’s chest. “Just like I want more of you.” He had a sexy arch of hair across his chest, arrowing down toward his crotch, unlike Stone’s hairless chest. She toyed with one of his nipples, and she was rewarded with him shifting.

  “Woman,” he warned.

  She turned into him, kissing a trail up the side of his throat.

  “Take this off,” he said, tugging on the hem of her nightshirt.

  It was different without Stone, but he was the one who’d made that choice. “After tomorrow…” she started. She looked at him in the dim glow from the lamp across the room. She held her breath. She knew how Nate felt. She cared for both of them, and she wondered if any of their time together mattered to either one of them. Or had it just been a quick flare of sexual heat brought on the by close circumstances and heightened danger?

  People in these kinds of circumstances had affairs all the time. It usually meant nothing.

  Somehow, though, she didn’t think she could bear to go back to her ordinary world of a small, one bedroom apartment in Chicago. The rented rooms were in the middle of the country, with great access to airports. She could be anywhere Hawkeye sent her in a matter of hours. She had only a significantly older brother, a few friends, and fewer possessions. Now, suddenly, hungrily, she wanted more.

  “After this,” he said, “we need to burn some real vacation time. You name the place.”

  She exhaled in relief, and the sound was thready. “There’s this little place in Mexico…”

  “Near the beach?”

  “On the beach.”

  “Other people?” he asked.

  “Isolated.”

  “Margaritas?”

  “With the finest tequila on the planet.”

  “I’ve got a passport.”

  “I’ll make the reservation.” She helped him get the shirt off over her head. “How do you want it?”

  “Doggy style.”

  “Of course.”

  “I haven’t taken you from behind yet.”

  She was reminded of what Stone had said. Had it only been this morning? He’d said he wanted to bugger her while Nate filled her pussy. A little ribbon of excitement danced through her, quickly followed by a stab of disappointment that things weren’t as they could be.

  While she got on all fours, Nate grabbed the condom he’d brought into the room after his shower. He sheathed himself, then shocked her by licking up the side of her neck. “Nate!”

  “Can’t help it. I like the way you taste.”

  She felt him at her entrance and realized this was the first time she’d had his cock in her.

  He was almost the same size as their Dom, and as he drove in, the angle allowed him deep, deep penetration. She gasped.

  “Okay?” he asked, stopping.

  “Yes. Fill me.”

  He did.

  He held her about the hips, holding her steady for his thrusts. He was such a different lover than Stone, gentler, but just as amazing. Another study in contrasts.

  She tried to twist her body backward so she could capture his balls, but he rode her so hard she was lost.

  “Just enjoy,” he told her.

  She let out a moan of pleasure. Absently she wondered if Stone could hear them, if he wished he were with them.

  Inside her, she felt Nick’s cock thicken. Wrapping one arm around her, he held her tight and then reached beneath her to hold one of her breasts, squeezing her nipple tightly. “You need clamps,” he said, “so I can grab the chain.”

  “Just…pinch…harder…”

  He applied more and more pressure, and she came, crying out, bucking, writhing, grinding her hips backward, seeking more.

  He adjusted her body, so she was upright. One arm remained around her abdomen, the other tightened around her waist.

  When he came, he whispered her name against her ear.

  She was undone. The two men were totally different in their approaches. She wanted both of them, needed what each had to offer.

  “Damn,” he said. “Stone doesn’t know what he’s missing with his stubbornness.”

  “I really like the way you fuck me,” she said, her breaths in little pants of satisfaction.

  “Jesus, Kayla. I may never let you go.”

  She hoped not. “But it’s not the same without him, is it?”

  “Honey, with you, I ain’t complaining.” He maneuvered both of them expertly, cradling her as if she was precious, until they were lying next to each other.

  An overhead fan cut through the warm, late summer air, cooling their sweat-slickened skin. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

  She truly felt cherished and appreciated. “Glad I volunteered.”

  “I would have requested you, if you hadn’t.”

  “Really?”

  “After Los Angeles,” he said, referring to their last assignment together, “there’s no one else I’d rather have at my back.”

  “No one else I’d rather have fucking me from the back,” she teased.

  “You really are naughty,” he said.

  “So spank me.” She sat up and pulled on her T-shirt, more from habit than because she’d gotten cold.

  “Girl, you’re so going to get it over my knee.”

  “Promises, promises,” she said sleepily.

  She wasn’t aware of drifting off to sleep, but she came awake with a shuddering start.

  The house was quiet, too quiet.

  She listened intently. Beside her, Nate, slept.

  Stone, she knew from the days at his house, often prowled during the night. Maybe she’d heard him.

  She turned to look at the clock and realized the digital display was blank. If she remembered correctly, they’d left a lamp burning when then went to sleep.

  Kayla breathed deeply, trying to orient herself. There was ambient light from the street. Which meant power was out only in the house. She did quick addition, and didn’t like the result.

  She reached for her handgun and nudged Nate, placing a fingertip across his lips.

  His eyes opened.

  “Trouble,” she whispered.

  After he’d blinked several times, she saw alertness. He nodded. Silently he pulled on boxers, then reached for his handgun.

  She grabbed her cell phone and opened it beneath the sheets, shielding its telltale glow. Three-thirty seven a.m. She pressed number nine, then Send, alerting Hawkeye’s headquarters to a potential emergency.

  Without another word, she climbed from the bed and moved across the hallway. Nate continued on past her, heading down the stairs.

  When she’d only taken three steps into the room, Stone sat up, scaring the hell out of her, slamming her pulse into overdrive. Please God don’t ask any questions, and don’t assume I’m here to jump your bones.

  In the scant light streaming through the blinds from the outside, she turned her gun, hoping he’d catch the glint of metal.

  He did.

  Wordlessly, he dressed in shorts, shoved his feet into running shoes, and palmed his gun. He crossed the room to stand next to her.

  She shrugged. “Power’s out in the house, but streetlights are still on,” she whispered. Then she added, “Could be a random power thing.”

  “It’s not,” Stone said.

  ”Nate headed for the main level.”

  “Hawkeye?”

  “Alerted. I’ll check the back bedrooms.” She didn’t wait for Stone. Instead, she started for the door.

  Shockin
g her, he grabbed her shoulder, turned her back toward him, pulled her against him and kissed her hard. “Good work.”

  She shook her head to clear the sudden emotional devastation. She was a professional. She had a job to do, despite her feelings for Stone.

  In the silence, in the dark, she checked the room Nate had chosen. Everything was as it should be.

  She heard a loud thump downstairs. Her heart thundered. Her initial instinct demanded she call out to her teammates or head that direction. Instead, she forced herself to follow established procedure and methodically checked the other two rooms to make sure no other threat loomed.

  When the rooms were cleared, she closed the doors behind her.

  Cursing the dark and the two floorboards that squeaked, she descended the staircase.

  When she reached the kitchen, Nate and Stone were there.

  She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, indicating the upstairs was secure.

  Nate repeated the motion, indicating the check of the main level was clear.

  “That bump?” she whispered.

  Nate shrugged.

  The noise, the same one, maybe a different came again, muted, muffled, from the lower level.

  Adrenaline clawed at her insides.

  Stone handed out night vision goggles and rifles that he’d obviously grabbed from the small command center.

  She put on the goggles and adjusted to the momentary disorientation. By unspoken accord, Nate, as commander, went first, and she followed a couple of seconds later. Stone brought up the rear.

  As they moved deeper, she noticed a weak puddle of light beneath the closed door.

  They paused at the bottom of the stairs, Nate whispered a countdown from three. On one, he shoved the door open.

  The light went out.

  Bullets flew. The sound was deafening, the flash of light blinding.

  She forced everything aside, relying on training. Diving to keep a low profile, she returned fire.

  Then, silence. Overwhelming, deafening silence.

  In the distance, sirens screamed. At least the cavalry was out there somewhere.

  The Ping-Pong table had been turned on its side.

  From their left, glass shattered. Someone coming in? Or someone going out? Or a damn diversion?