by Kaylea Cross
El Escorpion always had a plan ready for every possible contingency.
Chapter Nine
Why was it that time always seemed to drag by when he was looking forward to something? Brock glanced at his watch for the tenth time that morning and struggled to wrestle his focus back into place. He still had a bunch of emails and paperwork on his desk to deal with that had piled up over the course of the team’s deployment.
He looked up at a knock on his door to find Commander Taggart there. “You busy?”
“No, please. Save me from myself.” He gestured to the files waiting on his desk.
Grinning, Taggart stepped in and shut the door. “Yeah, being stuck back behind a desk sucks, doesn’t it? Welcome to my world.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. “Just got a call from the Mexican Attorney General.”
Oh? “What about?”
“Apparently they got a tip that generated a solid lead on a possible location for El Escorpion yesterday afternoon. SF raided the mansion but there was no one there and the place had been totally cleaned out. As in gutted. The office had been blown up, and so had the safe room. All the computers were charred beyond saving, and they’d shredded and burned all the paperwork in the place, too.
“They found a tunnel entrance, but whatever blew it up filled the first section full of concrete and rock so they can’t get in there and no one’s sure yet where it lets out. Somewhere close to the water, though. They’re still searching for it. I’m told they were close, missed him by a matter of hours.”
“If it was him,” Brock pointed out.
“Right. But whoever it was went to a whole hell of a lot of trouble to cover his tracks, so it was someone from the cartel. And judging by the look of the estate, they weren’t hurting for cash, so they were high up in the organization.”
“Nieto?”
“Maybe. They’ve got another possible lead to follow up on, but this time they want the DEA’s assistance when they execute the search warrant.”
Brock’s eyebrows went up. “Damn, they must be desperate if they’re finally allowing us down there.” The only reason the U.S. government had caught Carlos Ruiz in its net was because of a tip they believed had come directly from el Escorpion. The only way to get the head of the cartel, Nieto, or even that sadistic son of a bitch Montoya, was to go into Mexico and get boots on the ground. Something the Mexican government had never allowed until now.
“We likely won’t be kicking in any doors down there,” Taggart said dryly.
“Yeah, no. That would be too much to hope for.”
His commander’s aqua eyes twinkled. “At any rate, they want FAST Bravo down there to advise and support them in this upcoming op. Command’s given us the green light.”
Oh yeah. FAST Bravo could only operate down there with the Mexican government’s permission, and it had to be a joint mission with Mexican forces. No FAST team could operate unilaterally in a foreign country. “When do we head out?”
“I’m arranging a flight for 05:00 tomorrow.”
The turn of events stunned him, but they’d been wanting into Mexico for freaking ever, so he wasn’t complaining, except it meant his time with Tori would be cut short. Damn. He’d have to find a way to fix that. Although no amount of time with her would be enough. “What about Rodriguez? He won’t be back until next week. Probably late next week.”
“I don’t want to find a replacement for him just yet. I’d rather get down there, get a feel for what’s happening and make sure they’re serious and not dicking us around before we think about going operational. I’ll make the call then.”
Good enough. “All right. I’ll alert the boys.”
After calling the team he stared at his phone, debating what to do about Tori. He would likely have to report to base by 04:00, which meant the leisurely morning he’d planned for them to spend together in bed with room service wasn’t going to happen. It sucked, and though he wished like hell he could have those hours with her, Fate wasn’t cooperating.
She was such a bitch sometimes.
He dialed Tori’s cell, and the sound of her voice when she answered hit him square in the heart. “Hey, been thinking about you,” she said, a smile in her words.
“Yeah? I’m glad to hear that, because I’ve been thinking about you nonstop since the other day.”
“Well that’s nice to hear. You at home?”
“No, the office.”
“It’s Saturday and you guys just got back from deployment. They couldn’t give you the weekend off?” she asked wryly.
“Nah, they like to keep us busy. Get their money’s worth out of us.” He leaned back in his chair, tapped his fingers on his desk. “Any chance you can talk to your security detail and meet me earlier tonight?” They had arranged for her to arrive at seven.
“Maybe. Why, did something come up?”
“Yes. I can’t go into detail, but we’re wheels up at 05:00 tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
That was definitely disappointment in her voice, and maybe he was a bad person for admitting it but he was glad to hear it. “I want as much time with you as I can get. I thought we could add a couple hours on the front end instead to make up the difference.”
“I’ll make it happen. Can you be there by four?”
He smiled. “I’ll be there. Text me once you get confirmation?”
“I will. See you soon. And Brock?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t wait to see you.” She hung up.
Brock lowered the phone to his lap, his whole chest tightening until it felt like his heart might explode.
****
Three minutes to four.
Brock wasn’t here yet. Victoria paused outside the hotel room and waited while one of the marshals swept it. He reappeared a few moments later. “All clear. We’ll be here to get you at five.”
“All right. Thanks.” He and the others knew why she was meeting Brock here, and she wasn’t even embarrassed because she didn’t care what they thought. She shut and locked the door, then looked around the room. It was on the eleventh floor with a view of the river.
A king-size bed dominated the space, covered in a thick white duvet and fluffy pillows. Staring at it, nerves buzzed around in her belly. The other day at Brock’s place hadn’t exactly gone according to plan for either of them.
For whatever reason, at the critical moment her body had just…shut down. She hadn’t even had a flashback, which was what she’d been most worried about. Hopefully tonight would be different, because she wasn’t going to get another chance to do this. At least not with him, and right now she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to do it with anyone else.
Tonight was their goodbye.
Not wanting to think about that because it brought too many painful emotions with it, she carried her overnight bag to the dresser and set it on top. She’d packed light, just toiletries and a change of clothes. Then she paused to check her reflection in the mirror above it.
She looked pretty good, all things considered, her royal blue wrap dress flattering her figure that hadn’t quite filled out to her pre-captivity weight yet. She’d left her hair down and used a curling iron to give some body to the ends where they bounced along her shoulder blades. A light blue decorative scarf concealed her most hated scar and finished off the outfit with an elegant touch.
Someone knocked on the door and her heart jumped. “It’s me,” a deep, delicious voice said from the other side.
A smile curved her mouth, the nerves in her belly changing to excited flutters as she went to check the peephole before opening it. Brock stood there in dark jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscles, and the smile he gave her made her heart flip-flop.
“Hi,” he said, stepping inside with a bag in hand, his gaze roving over her body. “Wow, look at you.”
“I haven’t dressed up for anything in a long time. It felt nice to put on a dress again,” she said, her heart flip-flopping all over the pla
ce. She’d ached in places she hadn’t even known she had over the past two days, waiting to see him again, never sure if she would be sent from D.C. at a moment’s notice. Now they were finally together again and she was going to make the most of it.
Brock set his bag down next to the door and stared at her. “You’re so beautiful.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thanks.” She wanted to hug him so bad, but didn’t want to seem needy or desperate so she stayed where she was, hesitating.
Thankfully he made the first move, closing the small distance between them and wrapping his arms around her. Victoria sighed and let herself cling for a long moment, breathing in his scent, trying to memorize everything about this moment so she could carry it with her for the rest of her life. “I missed you,” she murmured.
“Missed you too.” He squeezed her tighter, kissed the top of her head, her temple. “Feels like forever since I got to do this.”
To her, too. “They told me today where I’m going.” Bellingham, Washington. An hour or two drive north of Seattle.
He stilled. “Oh?”
She couldn’t tell him where, even though she wanted to. “It’s far away.”
He made a low sound. “When?”
“Tuesday.” She pressed her lips together as something close to grief welled up inside her. No, damn it, she was not going to spoil this and cry all over him. She was going to enjoy every last minute of their time together, and hopefully now that they didn’t have such a tight deadline, things would go better. “Do you think you’ll be back before then?”
“No.”
She nodded, smothering the disappointment. “So this is it, then.”
He sighed, his breath stirring her hair. “Looks like.”
Pushing back to look at him, she gave him a bright smile. “Well then, let’s not waste any of it.” Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him.
Brock groaned and slid one hand into her hair, the other splaying over her lower back to pull her into his body. But after a moment, he pulled back. “I was going to ask if you were hungry. We could order something up to the room first.”
“Not for food.” She didn’t want to wait, didn’t need to ease into this. They only had hours left together. After two days of anticipation, he was finally here and the change of setting made it feel like she had a clean slate to work with.
He gave a low laugh. “Okay then.” His eyes gleamed with an odd mixture of hunger and tenderness that turned her heart over. “But wait, I brought some things.” He gently disengaged from her arms.
Curious, she watched as he picked up his bag and walked over to set it on the bed. Then he went over to the windows and pulled the curtains shut before coming back to unzip his bag and start laying things out on the bed.
Candles, she realized with a sappy smile. He’d brought candles.
He looked over at her, his sensuous lips curving up at the corners. “I wanted this to be special. Thought it would help set the mood better if we turned off the lights and made it more romantic in here.”
She had a feeling there was more to it than him making a romantic gesture. She suspected he’d planned this because he somehow knew she would feel more comfortable with him seeing her body by flattering candlelight rather than by something harsher.
A squeezing sensation constricted her ribcage. “I love it, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Smiling to himself, he set the candles on the night table to the left of the bed and began lighting them one by one. “Can you hit the lights?”
She reached behind her and flicked the switch. The closed curtains blocked out all the daylight, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of the flickering candles. Not too bright. Soft. Inviting.
Intimate.
And suddenly it was all she could do not to run across the room and tackle him to the bed, the mix of joy and sadness warring inside her.
A giggle shot out of her at the mental image, surprising her so much she put a hand to her mouth. Brock looked over at her, grinned. “What?”
She shook her head, grinned back. The thought of her trying to tackle the wall of muscle standing beside the bed was ridiculous. “I don’t know. But that felt good.”
He set the lighter down, cocked his head slightly and crooked a finger at her, the motion confident. Full of authority. Sexy as hell. “Come here.”
His low voice stroked over her senses like velvet. Her heart thumped as she closed the distance between them. No anxiety now. Nothing but joy and anticipation, her body heating, softening. A smile tugged at her lips.
“God I love it when you smile,” he murmured, wrapping one solid arm around her waist to draw her close, his free hand threading through her hair.
“Been a long time since I had anything to smile about. Thank you for that.” She was happier in that moment than she had been in forever. Even though her heart was breaking at knowing she was about to lose him.
His eyes darkened, then he kissed her.
Hungry to feel him, all of him, Victoria plastered herself to the front of his body and ran her hands over his shoulders. She skimmed them across the width of his back, savoring the feel of the powerful muscles beneath the soft cotton of his shirt, the possessive way he held her. The way she felt in his arms.
Sexy. Desirable, even with her scars.
Her body pulsed, her nipples hardening and an empty ache forming between her thighs. She wanted to touch his skin. Feel it against hers. She slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, raked her fingers gently down his back. Imagined doing the same when he was buried inside her.
Brock groaned into her mouth and released her to reach up and grab the back of his shirt with one fist, dragging it up and over his head. As he let it drop to the floor and lowered his arms to his sides, her breath caught at the sight of him. Every dip and hollow of his muscles were bathed in the warm yellow glow of the candlelight. Her mouth went dry. Her brain stopped functioning.
With a hungry sound she set her hands on his chest, the heat of him all but searing her palms. She pressed her mouth to his breastbone between the ridges of his pecs, let her fingers wander while she rubbed her cheek against the chest, kissed his hot skin and flicked her tongue out to taste him.
His hand tangled in her hair, fingers caressing her scalp as she nuzzled and explored, the hard bulge at the front of his jeans pressing into her abdomen. Heat gathered inside her, a steady pulse of arousal. She gripped his hard butt, lifted her head to kiss him, her tongue tangling with his.
Those big hands slid up and down her back, followed the curve of her hips before reversing. They paused on her shoulder blades. He nipped at her lower lip, sucked it, his fingertips gliding over her jaw, down her neck to the scarf.
He found the knot, deftly freed it as he nibbled and teased her lips. She was distracted by the threat of him removing the scarf, barely stemmed the urge to grab his hand, stop him.
With effort, she shut her brain off. Let her eyes drift closed and allowed herself to focus on the gentle caress of the light fabric as it whispered across her skin when he pulled it free. He made a low sound of either approval or encouragement and kissed her deeper, his tongue delving in to stroke, tease.
His head lifted. She blinked dreamily, slowly coming out of her trance to find him watching her. He took a step back, the light blue scarf still in his hands, that powerful torso and arms that would fuel her fantasies for years to come on display for her.
Holding her gaze, Brock began winding the fabric around his wrists.
At first she didn’t understand what he was doing.
She watched, stunned, as he reached past her to yank the comforter down, then got on the bed. Stretched out on his back before her, still watching her, he raised his arms over his head to grasp the headboard.
Victoria stopped breathing as she realized what he was doing, the sight of him too erotic for words.
His eyes were like molten steel as he gazed at her, the bulge of his erection pushing against his jeans. Thi
s powerful, heart-stoppingly sexy man was surrendering himself to her. Offering himself to her so she could have full control over what happened next.
She wasn’t sure whether she was terrified or more turned on than she ever had been in her life.
He didn’t smile, his expression intense. That magnificent chest rising and falling with each breath he took. “Tie this good and tight, angel, because if you don’t, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.”
Chapter Ten
The shock on Tori’s face transformed into a look of enthrallment, and the heat in her eyes as she stared at him made Brock’s heart pound. He’d decided on this well before coming here, and was going with his gut. She’d had all control stripped from her when she was taken captive. She needed to take it back.
She stepped closer to the bed, the candlelight flickering over her golden skin. “Are you sure about this?” she whispered, glancing at the scarf wound around his wrists.
Yes. He curled his fingers around the bottom rung of the iron headboard and nodded once, about to come out of his skin. Surrendering control this way wasn’t even remotely in the realm of his comfort zone, but he would gladly do it for her. “Do it.”
The look on her face, like she’d been starving and suddenly given access to an all you can eat buffet and didn’t know where to begin, made him go hard all over. Her dark brown eyes glowed with arousal as she climbed up to kneel beside him in that sexy as hell dress and reach up to secure the scarf to the headboard.
He had a moment’s unease as she tugged the fabric taut around his wrists, his dominant nature rebelling at the idea of being rendered helpless when all he wanted was to grab her, strip her and pin her beneath him on this bed. But there was something so fucking hot about the act of laying himself out like this for her.
Giving the fabric one last tug to secure the ends around the iron rung, she slipped her fingers under the fabric at his wrists to check it, her eyes flicking down to his. “Not too tight?”
“No.” Snug, but not cutting off his circulation. And fuck, if she didn’t touch him soon he might lose his mind.
