“Are we finished here?” Drew asked, opening his office door.
“Look over the intelligence collected. Reacquaint yourself with Esparza. He’s alive and living well, right here in your backyard. And that, my friend, isn’t my fault.
“You remember what I said. If you want to blame someone, you crook that finger back at yourself. I seem to recall someone running after his brother died, someone skipping the country when his team and family needed him the most.” A look of disgust, then resignation, washed across his face. “I’m wasting my time.”
“I guess so.”
“On second thought, maybe this trip wasn’t a total loss. Sloane may thank me later. See, now? You can do what it is you always do—run.”
* * * *
Colt Candy answered the phone on the first ring. “What’d you find out?”
Brock entered the back of the town car waiting for him. “He’s in.”
“You sure about that?”
“Absolutely,” Brock replied, settling his back against the leather seat. “You were right. He’s put on a little weight. He’s been pumping iron and maybe bodies too, considering the club he runs.” He looked back at the solid gray structure looming over the alley like a constant reminder of the darkness often found in places like these, in men like them. “He still has that itch, that fire. I could see it all over his face. And he damn sure hasn’t forgotten what Esparza took from his family.”
“I hope you’re right. If not, his daily regimen has been a waste of time. Did you pay attention to this guy? He’s built like a fucking machine. He’s buff as hell.”
“Do you want to fight beside him or screw him?”
“Very funny,” Colt grumbled. “All I’m saying is it would be a real waste of the Unit’s resources if Drew didn’t get back in the game. We need him now. No one knows Esparza better than the Remingtons and I damn sure don’t want this thug in our neck of the woods.”
“Trust me, Candy. He’s in, but you and your team need to watch him. He’s planning on flying solo on this one.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“How much data do you think he’s collected?” Brock asked.
“Gabe seems to think he has everything we have and maybe more.”
Gabe was a brilliant operative. If he had reason to believe anything, then they could take that to the bank.
“Who has been watching Esparza’s compound?”
“Crue and Gabe,” Colt replied.
“Do they have any idea who or what tipped off Drew?”
“No, but he must’ve been pretty certain who resided there when he staked out the place. He was packing…and I don’t mean lightly.”
“What are we talking?”
“Sniper rifles, grenades, a few—”
“So he was going in there without backup?” Damn. That didn’t sound like a move Sloane Remington would make. That sounded more like a Wilson Remington stunt. Drew’s father, when he’d been alive, had been the kind of guy who would go on legendary dangerous missions by himself. His reasoning was always the same. He’d tempted death several times. Apparently, it wasn’t his time to go and when it was, there wasn’t anything he could do to stop fate. When a man was facing his final hour, he couldn’t call off the angels or the demons coming for him.
“Let’s just put it this way. He was prepared to go in without assistance.”
“Damn it,” Brock muttered, stretching his neck to look out the front window. “He’s willing to die here.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Which explains why he wouldn’t tell me a damn thing,” Brock said, waving the driver toward the appropriate terminal when they approached the airport.
“I talked to Sloane and Dusty. They’re worried about him, Brock. They want to come in on this.”
“I’m not approving clearance,” Brock said, ending the call. He refused to explain himself or his decision.
He understood how concerned and angry Sloane must’ve been, but the Underground Unit’s US-West division was one of the strongest, most consistent teams in the country. While Sloane was an excellent operative, this Esparza deal was too personal. The US-West division would lead the mission. Esparza was in their town. He was on their turf.
The Remingtons let Esparza slip away once. The Underground Unit couldn’t risk losing him again. Besides, if Drew so much as suspected his brothers and Veronica were on their way to Vegas, he could make a rushed, uninformed decision and move before he was prepared to take action. Executing a battle before it was time could result in Drew’s death as well as the demise of those covering his rebelling ass.
There wasn’t room for error here. If Drew Remington had a plan, he needed to stick to it without feeling pressure from back home. When Drew decided to make his move, barring all interference, Colt and his team would be ready to go.
Chapter Two
Drew passed a couple in the throes of a thrashing fuck as he made his way down the back stairs and into the heart of the club. He didn’t bother giving them a second glance. In fact, he’d grown tired of watching others succumb to pleasure. In many ways, he often felt as if the patrons frequenting his club were there for a reason—to torment him.
Underneath the hard layers of flesh, Drew still possessed one soft spot. Suzy Matthews may have been another man’s wife for a short period of time, but she’d only married to—well, he wasn’t quite sure why she’d married a condescending bastard. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Drew believed Suzy had tied the knot to spite him.
Sometimes he wondered if she’d ever had the first intention of saying her vows. He’d always thought her wedding day had been a ploy. Had she planned the small-town extravaganza to lure him back home? Had she thought he’d rush right in and save the day, contest her marriage, and profess his love?
If he’d been a smarter man, maybe he would have met up to that task. Perhaps he would’ve been the one to say “I do” and “until death do us part” but he hadn’t been invited. In fact, she’d even sent a letter and asked him to stay away.
Entering the heart of the club, he made his way to the busy bar. The music pouring through the speakers was a hard-pounding retro beat, one destined to leave bodies grinding against bodies.
“You’re never going to believe who’s here.” Manny Mancini, another Underground Unit operative, approached him. “I’ve had my eye on her for the last thirty minutes, but it didn’t dawn on me who she was until I saw you.”
“What are you talking about?” Drew asked, scanning the club.
Manny tilted his head at a corner table. “That sub you twirled around here on opening night. What’s her name?”
“I don’t remember.”
Manny copped a smile. “Hurry up and try because that’s one of your hand-me-downs I wouldn’t mind to try on for size.”
“Melody.”
“What?”
“Her name is Melody.” Drew came to an abrupt halt when he saw someone on the dance floor flaunting the kind of moves a man grew stiff remembering. “What the bloody fucking hell is she doing here?”
“Who?” Manny asked, turning to the club’s center.
Drew blew out a hard breath. Every muscle in his body was as taut as stretched cable.
Manny inched closer. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Fuck you, Manny. You knew she was here.” Drew glared at his sidekick.
“I’m telling you, Drew. I had no idea. We had a problem in one of the private booths. Scott watched the door while I swept a few issues under the rug.”
“What sort of issues?” he asked, not at all interested in club drama. If Manny had taken care of the problem, it was handled.
Turning his full attention back to the packed house, he scanned the crowd for one little raven-haired beauty, a woman he hadn’t seen in well over two years. Taking a deep breath, Drew dragged his thumb around the shape of his mouth. In deep concentration, he muttered, “I was just thinking about her.”
Ma
ybe Suzy had been a figment of his imagination. With Brock showing up there and memories of the past threatening to suffocate him, Drew had too much on his mind.
Manny slapped him on the back. “Well maybe you’ve been thinking of her too much as of late because you’re right…Suzy Matthews is definitely here.” He bit his bottom lip and grunted. “She’s the only woman I know who can dance like a slut and make it look classy as hell.”
Drew flexed his jaw, determined to ignore Manny’s obvious ribbing.
He had just taken a step in Suzy’s direction when a loud crashing noise resounded. In his earpiece he heard, “Drew, we’ve got a problem outside pod A in the exhibition booths.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. It was one of those nights. “Watch her, Manny. Don’t let her get away.”
He turned to go, but Manny grabbed him by the arm and tilted his head toward Suzy and a fellow Drew recognized. “I’ll take pod A. You need to handle that.”
* * * *
Suzy Matthews was a lot of things but she wasn’t a whore who picked up strange men in clubs. Apparently she’d given the dude in front of her the wrong impression.
Held by two bouncers, the fellow cursed her at the speed of a ticking second hand. The guy might as well let it rip, she mused, catching a glimpse of a familiar face at the end of the hallway.
“Your time is running out,” she told the jackass. “Don’t hold back now. Tell me what you really think.”
“Fucking cunt!” he screamed, trying to break free of the bouncers’ hold. “I ought to whip it out right here and fuck you until you’re on your submissive knees where you belong!”
Suzy leaned forward. Her eyes met the evil gaze of a man who obviously hated women, a guy who’d evidently patronized the club with one goal—to belittle the opposite sex and perhaps find an unsuspecting sub who would potentially fall victim to his abuse for the night. “My submissive knees only bend for one man.”
About that time, the fellow lunged at her, breaking free of those who’d held him. Everything happened quickly then. He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.
Fear and panic didn’t stand a chance of strumming through her veins. Right when he tossed her to the wall, a muscular arm locked around her assailant’s shoulders.
Corded fury lined the neck of one mad-as-hell badass. Drew Remington pulled the guy away from her and hurled him against the partition. “You heard the lady. She told you her ‘submissive knees only bend for one man.’”
Oh God. He’d heard that?
A zip of excitement spun through her body while a scuffle commenced. Her perpetrator tried to escape Drew’s grip. Wielding the fellow around like a limb in motion, Drew pushed him toward the bouncers. “Get him out of here. I don’t want to see his sorry face again.”
“You’ll regret this!” the fellow bellowed.
“You wait for that formal apology, buddy,” Drew drawled. Then, he wheeled around and faced her. Wearing a heated look of appreciation stamped upon his face, he took a quick intake of air. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m just a girl looking for a good time. What are you doing here?”
“Don’t play with me, Suzy.”
Oh but that was exactly what she planned to do. Given the hot lust spilling from his eyes and the way he seemingly undressed her right there with no regard to who might witness their new beginning, their immediate future was already set in stone and carved in wood.
Perhaps the foreshadowing was a bit premature but she couldn’t help but feel like her love story with Drew was reaching its climactic moment. Their romance wasn’t starting another sequel. Oh no, they were still in book one, rapidly approaching an unforgettable cliffhanger.
“Don’t you want to find out what happened before you kick out a paying customer?”
“Not really. There’s only one side of the story I want to hear,” Drew replied, taking her by the hand and dragging her through the club.
Rather than clasp his hand over hers, he laced their fingers together, pulling her alongside him as he hurried to the back wall. He led her through a throng of people, taking long strides toward the elevator.
God help her, she couldn’t stop herself from following him. She couldn’t break their connection, drop his hand, and put up the first obstacle, one she’d sworn she’d put in place given the opportunity.
No, with his hand mashed against hers, the heat passing between them was too much, too intense. She wasn’t about to ruin this moment by opening her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him why, why he hadn’t come for her, why he hadn’t stopped her from marrying a man she didn’t love, a husband she’d always feel was less than a man because he wasn’t her man. He wasn’t her Drew.
Pausing long enough to say something to another fellow who could almost pass as his double, at least in body type, Drew glanced over his broad shoulders then continued to push his way through the crowd. His dark, curly hair hung halfway down his back and he looked as wild and untamed as she remembered him in his youth.
Seconds later, they entered the elevator. He pressed the lighted PH button.
“Who would’ve thought? A penthouse in a—”
“Don’t say a fucking word,” Drew warned her, looking straight ahead.
“It’s good to see you, too,” she drawled, clasping her hands in front of her. “Have I done something to piss you off?”
Drew grunted.
She’d take that as a yes. Maybe the marriage thing had been more than he could stand. Then again, he had broken her heart. He’d shattered her soul and destroyed her dreams.
“You pushed me away, Drew. You can’t exactly blame me here. I did what you told me to do. I moved on with my life.”
“Damn it!” He grabbed her arm and slung her against the short right side of the elevator. Slapping his hand against the wall next to her head, he glared down the bridge of his nose. “It’s a quick ride to the top. Another word and so help me God, sub, I’ll fire up that sweet ass with a round of blistering spankings you’ll never forget.”
Her pussy clenched with the warning. Her nipples tingled. Oh God, she must’ve been insane for hunting him down, for chasing him halfway across the country. She brushed her fingers through her short pixie-style hair and caught a burning glimpse from him.
A loud ding announced the arrival to his floor and they stepped off the elevator. Acting suspicious, Drew looked to the left and right before he took her hand and led her down the hallway.
“Are you expecting someone?” She checked the area behind them. “I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back.”
“Fuck it.”
Before she could contemplate such a perverse and forward move, or even so much as gather what the hell was happening, Drew pinned her against the wall. Bracketing her legs around his waist, he kissed her with fervor, prying her lips apart with his tongue as his cock lengthened against her center, bulging in those tight black slacks like a beast of a threat. Thanks to his quick hands, her leather skirt rode up her thighs, barely concealing her lace-clad mound.
“I told you to be quiet,” Drew whispered, nuzzling her cheek. “Damn it to hell, you always liked doing things the hard way. Why can’t you learn to behave? Hmm?”
“Maybe because I love hard lessons,” she whispered, squeezing his hips with her knees.
A ragged breath fell from his lips. “When are you going to learn to fucking listen, Suzy?”
“What is it that you need me to hear, Drew?” she asked, her nails digging into his leather jacket as she climbed him. Lord have mercy. She could feel his zipper cutting into the web of material at her crotch.
Another one of those masculine, throaty grunts fell from his lips. “Damn you for coming back here, sub.”
“If you wanted me to stay away, you have a funny way of showing it.”
Instead of arguing her point, he held her chin in a tight grip and kissed her again. This time, his tongue swirled around hers. He leisurely sucked the tip as he cupped h
er bottom and held her firmly against his length.
God help her. If he didn’t stop this, she would fuck him right there and never regret her choices. “Drew.”
“Shh, damn it. Please just be quiet.” He nearly crushed her with his weight, barricading her against the wall. Mashing his forehead against hers, he looked into her eyes and shocked the hell out of her when he said, “You’re all I fucking think about. Night and day, hour after hour, I can’t get you out of my blasted head.”
“Then don’t.”
He jerked then. Thinning his lips, he stared at her with those dark and quite haunting eyes. She loved those eyes, even though they still housed the horrors of his past, the traumatic experiences he’d live with for the rest of his life. He’d once told her a happy future with him was impossible. Now she didn’t believe him.
His heart was on the mend. He might have been patched in spots, but he would eventually heal. She’d seen the look in his eyes when he first caught a glimpse of her dancing in the club. She’d watched how he’d stalked her, acting as if he couldn’t approach quickly enough. And she then acknowledged that longing in a savored kiss, in a kiss he’d seemingly needed far more than she’d ever imagined.
“Mr. Remington?”
Drew stilled only for a moment. Then, he yanked her skirt over her hips and slowly released her. They locked in a knowing gaze as he reassembled her cropped top, a shirt she hadn’t even realized he’d been in the process of unbuttoning.
He didn’t take his hands away from her waist and he didn’t move aside. Instead, he blocked the other man’s view, apparently determined to use his body to keep her out of harm’s way, if in fact, danger loomed.
She didn’t doubt the trouble rising for a second. Drew’s Adam’s apple twitched as he watched her. He frowned. A much darker and more disturbing expression marked his face.
“Mr. Drew Remington?”
“You shouldn’t have come,” Drew whispered in a near-apologetic tone. Twisting his right arm sideways, he pushed her behind him and at the same time, withdrew a weapon from his waistband with his free hand.
Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing [Cowboy Boots 5] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2
