by Lara Lacombe
Her thoughts grew increasingly fragmented as he moved over her. Hands, teeth, tongue—he used them all to great effect, reducing her to mindless whimpers of pleasure. She arched against him, needing to feel him, needing to be filled by him. He chuckled softly at her wordless pleas, his breath warm against her breast. One hand trailed down and hooked under her knee, drawing her leg up along his body. She moved willingly, locking her ankles at the small of his back and urging him forward.
When he didn’t move right away, she lifted her head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
His expression was one of pained disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend what was happening. “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, dropping his head to rest against her shoulder with a low groan. “I’m such an idiot.”
Claire arched against him, using her legs to pull him back to her center. “I’m on the pill.”
His head jerked up at that, hope shining in his gaze. “Really?”
“Really. Now are we going to do this or what?”
Thomas wasted no more time, entering her with a sharp thrust that made her gasp. He froze above her, his chest heaving with the force of his breathing. “Oh, God,” he whispered reverently.
“Move, damn it,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. He hesitated, so she rolled her hips against him, creating a weak friction that did nothing to satisfy her.
She had been content to let him take the lead earlier, but now she assumed control. She pulled her wrists free, placed her hands on his chest and shoved, forcing him to turn until he lay on his back. He let out a moan as she began to move, settling into a rhythmic pace that soon had them both gasping for breath.
He sat up, wrapping his arms around her. “Claire. I’m close. Are you?”
“Yes,” she answered, biting down on his shoulder to trap the moan in her throat. “It’s okay.”
He touched her then, using the pad of his thumb to administer a few rasping strokes that short-circuited her brain and had her eyes rolling back in her head.
She must have cried out, because she heard him whisper “Hush” before capturing her mouth with his own. She realized in the dim recesses of her brain that he was back in charge, but as long as he kept touching her, she didn’t care.
He didn’t disappoint. A few more brushes with those clever fingers, and she was there, her whole consciousness condensed to a single point of indescribable pleasure. She felt him move within her—one thrust, two, and then he followed her into his own release.
They collapsed back onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets. She felt cold at the loss of him, but Thomas quickly wrapped himself around her body, enveloping her in warmth. “Claire,” he murmured into her hair, his voice soft with satisfaction and sleepiness. “Thank you.”
“Shh,” she whispered back. “Rest now.”
He gave a drowsy murmur of assent and she felt him slip away, his breathing leveling out as he drifted into unconsciousness. His arms were a heavy weight keeping her in place, and she realized that even in his sleep, he tried to protect her.
“Oh, Thomas.” She sighed. “What have you done to me?”
* * *
“Kincannon. Coombs. Check in.”
Valdez’s voice was tinny and close, making him feel claustrophobic. Thomas fought the urge to touch his ear, not wanting to give away the fact that he was wired. Victor probably expected it, but still...better to keep his cards as close to the chest as possible.
“Kincannon here. No activity so far. What do our eyes up top say?”
There was a pause while his words were relayed, then Valdez spoke again. “Nothing yet. Keep your eyes open.”
“Check. Kincannon out.”
He heard a sigh from the seat next to him, and turned to see Claire bouncing her leg in a rapid tattoo. “Nervous?”
Her leg stopped. “No.”
He raised a brow, turned back to face the alley. “If you say so.”
She let out another sigh. “I’m just not good at the waiting. I want something to happen.”
“It will.”
“How are you so calm right now?” She shifted in the seat, turning to face him. “It’s your niece out there, and yet you seem very composed. How are you doing that?”
His thoughts flashed back to the night they had shared. The way Claire had touched him, given him release, made him feel it would all be okay.
Even though that feeling hadn’t lasted.
“Experience,” he heard himself say. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. If I let my emotions take control, I risk blowing the operation to hell.”
“Still...” she said softly, her voice trailing off.
“Yeah,” he murmured.
Truth was, he was wound so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t exploded yet. He was right on the edge, where one touch, one wrong word would set him off. The only thing that kept him in control was the knowledge that if he did let go, there would be no coming back.
Last night had helped. He’d let himself get caught up in the sensations of being with her—her softness and curves, her mouth, her touch. He could still feel her skin on his fingertips, her mouth on his chest, her hand wrapped around his—
He swallowed hard. Well.
He’d woken this morning feeling unusually rested, an unfamiliar sensation that had taken him a moment to identify. He’d actually slept last night, miracle of miracles, and it was all thanks to the warm woman in his arms. He had turned his head to nuzzle the back of her neck, inhaling her sleepy, satisfied musk. She’d stirred briefly at the brush of his lips against her skin, then sunk back into sleep with a sigh.
He’d allowed himself a few minutes of peace, knowing that it wouldn’t last. How could it? His family—his life—was never going to be the same again, and he needed to accept that. It was time to surrender this fantasy of the wife and the white picket fence. He needed to focus on putting what was left of his family back together, helping his mother and Emily heal, and repairing his shattered relationship with Jenny.
Besides, Claire deserved someone better. Someone who could focus on her, give her the support and attention she deserved. Someone who wouldn’t use her to make himself feel better.
He should have sent her back to her room last night, or better yet, not even let her through the door. Now that he knew what it could be like with her, it was going to be that much harder to let her go.
Assuming she even wants you, he thought with a mental snort. He hadn’t exactly been at his best last night. He couldn’t blame her if their rough, no-frills encounter had failed to knock her socks off.
Before Emily had been taken, he’d entertained fantasies of taking Claire to his bed. How he’d go slow, touching her, tasting her everywhere. Making sure she was well and truly ravished. He’d make her understand how he felt about her, make her realize his feelings were real and serious.
It was hard to deny last night’s encounter had fallen far short of the standards he’d imagined.
He wanted to talk to her, to apologize for his actions, but this wasn’t the time. Once he had Emily back, and they weren’t sitting in a car with a fellow agent lying down across the backseat, he could explain.
Another sigh from Claire brought him out of his reverie. “This is always the worst part,” he told her, needing to fill the silence that had suddenly turned awkward.
“Does it ever get any easier?”
He shook his head. “Nope. But next time I’ll bring a deck of cards.”
That earned him a wry laugh. “No offense, but I hope there isn’t a next time.”
“You and me—”
“Heads up.” Valdez’s voice rang in his ear, causing his pulse rate to spike. He sat up a bit straighter behind the wheel, muscles tense and ready for whatever news he was about to hear. “I’ve got movem
ent, coming from the north. Three blocks away.”
“Can you see her? Can you tell if it’s Emily?” His heart lodged in his throat, and he held his breath as he waited for Valdez to respond. Please, please...
“Still too far away...no, wait.” Another pause. Thomas felt like screaming but kept silent, settling for gripping the steering wheel so hard his hands hurt. After a bit of crackling static, Valdez was back on the line. “Subject identified. The little girl is Emily.”
The news should have made him happy, but Thomas gripped the wheel even harder. “How does she look?” he asked, the words a strangled croak as he forced them past his paralyzed vocal cords.
“Doesn’t appear to be injured,” Valdez reported. “Look alive, team. They’re approaching the meeting point. Let’s keep her safe and bring her home unharmed.”
There was a chorus of “Checks” as the various team members responded to Valdez’s words, and Thomas felt something inside him loosen a bit at the audible reminder that he wasn’t alone.
Thomas climbed out of the car and walked toward the front, eyes fixed on the intersection where Emily and Victor would soon appear. He heard another door slam and, a few seconds later, felt Claire standing behind him.
“You should get back in the car,” he told her, not looking away from the street. “I don’t want you out here when he arrives.”
“I’m staying,” she replied, her words quiet but determined. “No way am I leaving you out here to face him alone.”
He turned to glance at her, anger and fear a potent combination in his gut. “Claire, get back in the—”
“Here they come,” Valdez reported.
Thomas sucked in a breath as Emily appeared at the intersection. She was about fifty yards away, but she appeared to be fine. She was walking normally, and he didn’t see any obvious wounds. Her face split into a wide grin when she saw him, and she broke away from the man by her side to run forward. His heart caught in his throat, but Victor made no move to stop her.
“Uncle Thomas!” He crouched down to meet her, and she flung herself into his arms.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice shaky. He quickly ran his hands over her body, checking for injuries or devices. Why hadn’t Victor tried to stop her?
“I missed you!”
She was clean. He scooped her up and headed for the car, ignoring Victor. Let the team mop up here. He was taking her to the hospital. “I missed you, too.”
He opened the door and deposited her on the seat. She balked at the sight of the agent crouched in the back, but Natalie sent her a quick grin and told her she was playing hide-and-seek. “Help me hide?” she asked.
Emily nodded, sinking down next to Natalie.
Thomas kept one eye on the man standing in the street while Claire climbed into the car. Now that he had Emily back, there was no way he was going to hand over Claire. But Victor made no attempt to come closer. Why isn’t he moving?
Ignoring the churning in his gut, he climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’ve got her. We’re on our way to the hospital.”
“Roger that,” Valdez responded. “We’ll take it from here.”
Thomas glanced in the rearview mirror as he sped away, a hot spurt of satisfaction spreading through his chest when he saw Victor with his hands up high in the air, the members of the team approaching with their guns trained on him. Got you, you monster.
“All right, baby,” he said, shifting his gaze to Emily. His heart warmed at the sight of her, the knowledge she was safe and whole mixing with his adrenaline to leave him feeling light-headed and giddy. “Let’s get you back to your mom.”
* * *
Victor raised his head from the high-powered scope attached to his sniper rifle, cursing under his breath. He hadn’t expected them to bring the woman. She was supposed to stay behind, vulnerable and alone in the safe house. Kincannon’s niece should have been the perfect distraction, an easy way to misdirect the focus of the FBI. Instead, the idiots had brought her along.
As if he’d really show up this morning.
He watched in detached interest while the little girl ran to Kincannon, leaving her escort behind. Another mistake. His finger caressed the trigger when he sighted the man’s head in his scope. He was supposed to keep her by his side the whole time, drag out the process. Not let her go at the first tug of her hand.
Served him right for using a drunkard to do the job.
He could end the man’s life right now. He really should, if only to punish him for his mistake. But that would draw attention to his location, and then the FBI would know he was nearby. He still held the element of surprise, and he wasn’t about to give up that advantage any time soon.
Kincannon’s car shot away with a squeal of tires. Evidently, he wasn’t sticking around for the cleanup.
It was time for him to go as well. He hummed softly as he disassembled and packed up the rifle. Plan A hadn’t worked out like he’d wanted, but there was always plan B. He could hear the faint shouts of the FBI agents as they took down the man in the alley. With so many of them here, the safe house had to be deserted, especially since Dr. Fleming was with Kincannon. He’d simply slip inside and hide.
She had to come back sometime. No way would the FBI let her go home when they discovered he was still at large. No, they’d return her to the safe house in a bid to keep her protected.
Delivering her straight into his arms.
Chapter 11
They had done it.
They’d gotten Emily back, and Claire hadn’t had to see Victor. It had been so easy, so simple, she almost couldn’t believe it.
After spending yesterday afternoon imagining a multitude of possible outcomes, Claire had gone into this morning’s operation feeling more than a little keyed up. The comfort and release of last night had faded with the rising of the sun, and her stomach had been twisted up in knots as the meeting time approached. She’d nearly fainted when Valdez had announced Victor was near, and it was only her concern for Thomas that had given her the strength to stand next to him when Emily and Victor had appeared.
She glanced at him, wanting to reach over to touch his leg but reluctant to distract him. His attention was split between the road and the rearview mirror, his grip on the wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He’d been tense all morning, something she’d attributed to the stress of the operation. But now that they had Emily back, doubts were starting to creep in.
Did he regret sleeping with her? Maybe she had come on too strong, pushed him too hard. She’d wanted to comfort him, to offer him support, but perhaps he thought less of her this morning for having used her body to do it. He didn’t seem to mind last night, though, she thought, a prickle of irritation flaring to life.
“Almost there,” he murmured, though whether to himself or to her, she couldn’t be sure.
Will you get a grip? She pushed away her irrational worries and focused on the hospital that had just come into view. They would reunite Emily with her mother, get her checked out and then they could regroup and celebrate the fact that Victor was out of their lives. There would be time for her to explore her growing feelings for Thomas later, when everything had settled down again.
He pulled up to the front entrance and left the car running while he collected Emily from the backseat. “Nat, can you deal with the car?”
Without waiting for an answer, he set off. Claire scrambled to keep up, not wanting to get left behind.
She caught up to him at the elevator. He offered her a tight smile as they ascended, then jumped off and strode down the hall when they reached the sixth floor. Claire hurried after him, no match for his long-legged stride.
She turned the corner just in time to see Emily race into her mother’s arms. “Mom!” she cried, wrapping her small body around Jenny’s frame.
Jenny clutched her daughter in a fierce grip, her face buried in Emily’s hair. Claire slowed as she approached, not wanting to interrupt their moment. She came to a stop a few feet away from Thomas, who was watching the reunion with an odd expression that looked like a combination of longing and relief. A tall, blonde woman with delicate, graceful features stood by Jenny, wearing a benevolent smile as she watched the pair.
“Not so hard, Mommy,” Emily said, wriggling a bit to loosen her mother’s grip. “You’re squeezing me too tight.”
“Sorry, baby,” Jenny murmured, rubbing her hand along Emily’s back.
After a long moment, Jenny leaned back from Emily. Running her palm over the girl’s hair, she offered her a watery smile. “Why don’t we go see Grandma?” she asked, rising to her feet and pushing open the door of the room behind her. As Emily walked inside, Jenny turned back to face Thomas, gratitude shining in her eyes. Thank you, she mouthed.
Thomas nodded, his shoulders relaxing as he watched his sister-in-law and his niece disappear.
Claire took a step forward, wanting to lay a hand on his arm. Her limbs were rubbery in the aftermath of the morning’s adrenaline rush, and she could only imagine how Thomas felt. Now that Emily was safe and his family reunited, he had to feel a powerful sense of relief.
We did it, she thought, effervescent bubbles of joy rising up her chest. We beat him.
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form the words, the tall blonde woman strolled up to Thomas and kissed him.
Not just a friendly peck on the cheek either. She stood on tiptoes and pressed her mouth fully against Thomas’s. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his head, threading through the fiery strands of hair to hold him in place as she licked and sucked his bottom lip. Thomas did nothing to stop her, made no move to break her embrace or end the kiss. Claire stood there, trapped, shock and rage keeping her frozen while the kiss went on for an endless moment.
