Hot Protector: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10

by Lynn Raye Harris

  She laughed softly. “You mean the year you had that girlfriend? Jane something. You didn’t put her on speaker, but I heard your half of the conversation. I might have learned some new words that summer.”

  “You really do need a spanking,” he growled, and she laughed again.

  “Maybe I do.”

  “I hate to think of everything I said. Jane was the first girl I ever fucked—and believe me, all I wanted to do was get back home and fuck her some more. At that age, a boy’s brain cells are all focused on one thing.”

  “I gathered that. I was fourteen. It was very scandalizing…”

  “Hell.”

  “For the record, I’d say you’re still quite fixated on that one topic. I think it’s a guy thing.”

  He was fixated on it. And not because he couldn’t think of anything else—but right now she had his brain rattled with her black hair, sexy bun, and librarian glasses. He imagined stripping her, turning her around, and fucking her hard while, yeah, spanking her ass. It was a hell of a turn-on—and not what he needed right now.

  He needed to be clearheaded, not in a perpetual state of arousal. He was beginning to wish he’d jerked off in the shower last night.

  “For the record, you’re pushing it, Sophie.”

  “Pushing it where?” She sounded way too sultry for comfort.

  Chase whipped into the exit to the rest area they were about to pass and shot up the ramp before careening the car into a slot and turning to glare at her.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t fucking bait me, Sophie. If you’re acting, pretending to be something you’re not, then knock it off. And if you’re serious, then you’d better be prepared—because I am not tame, or safe—and I won’t stay within the lines.”

  16

  Sophie’s nipples were hard little points scraping against the lace of her bra. Her heart beat hard and her pulse skipped wildly. She was certain he could see it in her throat.

  Cars rolled slowly past, pulling into the rest area where people got out and strolled into the facilities. Some people walked dogs, others loitered around the candy and soda machines near the entrance to the building.

  She had been playing, and he’d called her on it. She hadn’t thought much of the act at first when she’d sunk into the character, but now she was thinking too much. Was she really sexy? Sultry? Or was it all a lie?

  She licked her lips, tasting the cherry lip gloss she’d slicked over her lipstick as she tried to think of what to say. His gaze narrowed—and then he swore before reaching over and curling a hand behind her neck, tugging her toward him.

  “I think you like playing with matches, Sophie,” he said, his lips a whisper away.

  And then his mouth came down on hers.

  It wasn’t the hard meeting she’d expected, but rather it was hot, tender, sweet. He sucked at her mouth, nipped her lips softly, and devastated her with how gentle he could be. As if he knew she didn’t have a ton of experience. As if he knew she needed to be stoked and teased before she burst into flame.

  Oh dear heaven, it felt good. Somewhere in the back of her brain, a voice whispered that this was wrong, that it was illicit and forbidden, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t thinking about forever here. She was thinking about naked bodies and heated pleasure. About explosions of sensation and satisfaction so intense it stole her breath.

  Her body ached for more. She wanted him to touch her, wanted him to cup her breasts and tease her taut nipples. And then she wanted him to free her breasts, lick them, suck them…

  Oh…

  He pushed her away suddenly but gently and leaned back in his seat, raking a hand through his hair.

  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No, I… I liked it.”

  He turned his head on the seat back to look at her. His mouth was red from her lipstick, and that made her stomach corkscrew. Mine, mine, mine…

  “You’re too sweet, Sophie. You deserve something more than a quick fuck in the backseat of a car—and make no mistake, that’s where this was headed.”

  Her heart thumped. “Maybe that’s what I want.”

  He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “No, you definitely don’t. You want romance. You want to be swept off your feet and wowed, not stripped and used hard and fast.”

  Sophie’s stomach fell to her feet. She tugged in a deep breath even as anger twisted in her belly. “What makes you think you know what I want better than I do? You don’t know me!”

  His eyes were too perceptive. “I think I know you better than most after last night and today. You’ve said far too much for me to ever believe you don’t need an emotional connection.”

  “We have an emotional connection, Chase. You just proved that with what you said. You know me. I know you. Nobody said it had to be love.”

  He stared at her for a long moment—and then he swore. He jerked the car into gear and reversed out of the parking spot before jamming the gas and heading back onto the highway.

  They rode in silence the rest of the way to the airport. She stared out the window, her eyes and throat burning as she tried to process what had just happened between them. He’d kissed her. Kissed her so sweetly she’d wanted to cry.

  And she’d wanted more. She thought he did too. But clearly there were more important things at work here. Grigori wasn’t going away because she wished him to. He hung over her head like a malevolent cloud, threatening and malicious.

  The highway grew more crowded with traffic the closer they got to BWI. Finally Chase pulled into long-term parking and shut off the engine. They got the bags and started toward the terminal.

  “Hold on,” Sophie said and Chase stopped. “You’ve got, uh, red lipstick…”

  “Shit.” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. It came away red.

  “Here, I have wipes.”

  She rummaged in the purse she’d bought at Walmart and came up with the pack of makeup removal wipes. He was glaring at her, but she ripped one from the package and handed it to him. He scrubbed it over his mouth and then looked at her in question.

  “You got it all,” she said.

  He wiped the back of his hand and then started walking again, tossing the wipe in a trash can as they passed. They found the Delta counter, checked in, and then passed through security. Her heart beat hard the whole time. She didn’t have any problem remembering that her name was Beth Chandler or that Chase was supposed to be her new husband Nathan.

  But she worried that Grigori’s men were around every corner. They’d found her so quickly when she’d gone to Chase’s house that she kept expecting them to pop up at any moment. She told herself she looked different with dark hair, fashion glasses, and the cherry-red lips she’d fixed after Chase kissed her lipstick off.

  And oh, remembering that moment was pretty much all she could do. The heat and passion, the fury and fire. He’d kissed her sweetly but hungrily. She’d wanted more. So much more.

  She glanced at Chase as they walked through the terminal. He was huge, muscular, and intense. Her heart flipped at the sight of him—and at the way women looked at him as he sauntered along with a backpack over one shoulder and a gorgeous nonchalance to his gait.

  But she knew he wasn’t nonchalant. He was alert, wary, and ready to spring into action.

  He walked right to the gate area and found a seat. She sank down beside him and then glanced around nervously. Chase put in a pair of earbuds and laid his head back against the seat, closing his eyes.

  Well, hell.

  Sophie sat for a few minutes until she was too bored to be still. There was a bookstore nearby, and she started to get up and go browse.

  Chase’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, searing into her and stopping her from moving at the same time. His eyes were open now. She forced a smile as a lady looked over at them, her eyes moving between them with interest.

  “I was simply going to the bookstore, darling,” she
said lightly.

  Chase’s eyes narrowed as he tugged her back and put an arm around her. His lips were at her ear.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Your passport is American.”

  It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about. She’d spoken with a British accent. She hadn’t consciously thought about it, but it seemed right. Another layer to the disguise.

  She lowered her voice for his ears only. “I don’t see how that matters. The only people who’ll ask for it now are the immigration control personnel in France. Besides, it’s another way to hide from Grigori.”

  His eyes flashed hot—and then he released her, but not before sliding his fingers along her cheek and down her throat. She knew he did it for the woman watching them, but she liked it anyway. A shiver slid down her spine and into her toes.

  “All right, honey. If that’s what you want. We’ll go look at the books.”

  “You don’t have to go with me. You can see the store from here.”

  He stood and shouldered the backpack before taking her hand and pulling her up. “Doesn’t work that way, babe. I’m on you like superglue until this thing is over.”

  She tried not to think about all the ways she’d like him to be on her as they strolled to the bookshop. He held her hand casually, lightly, and all she could think of was the way his skin burned into hers. What would it be like if there was nothing at all between them but skin? How would his skin sizzle into her then?

  And, oh my, how would it feel to have him inside her?

  Sophie shivered as they entered the store and he dropped her hand. His fingers settled against her spine, right in the small of her back, as he let her lead the way through the store. She walked over to the romance novels and stared at the covers.

  Chase stood behind her, his presence solid and reassuring—and nerve-racking at the same time.

  “That one looks good,” he murmured in her ear, reaching past her to point to a book with a cover that featured a fully clothed man who had a woman up against a wall, her legs wrapped around him.

  Her pulse skipped a couple of beats, both at the cover and at the gold ring on his finger. “You can’t base your decision solely on the cover,” she said, trying desperately not to step backward and into the solid heat of his body.

  “Then pick it up and skip around for the dirty parts. I’ll read them to you on the plane.”

  Sophie laughed, but it was nervous laughter. Because holy cow, Chase reading the dirty parts to her? That thought made her nipples tighten and her pussy throb with heat.

  “Maybe not,” she said, reaching for a nice, tame book with a woman in a flowing dress on the cover. Something about becoming a duchess. She turned it over and tried to read the back, but Chase bent over her until his cheek was beside hers.

  “Maybe there are some dirty parts in that one,” he murmured.

  She couldn’t focus on the cover copy. She put the book back and picked up another one. Chase reached out and picked up the first one he’d mentioned.

  “I’m getting this one,” he said when she put back the one she’d just picked up and snatched another one.

  She turned and took a step backward, putting distance between them. He confused her and intrigued her—and his nearness was driving her insane.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  He shrugged. “Why not? I might learn something.”

  Then he gave her that grin she was beginning to learn was filled with wicked intent.

  “Fine.” She flipped over the book in her hand and read it. Something about a billionaire and a virgin. “I’m getting this one.”

  She strode over to the magazines and picked up InStyle and People StyleWatch. Chase grabbed a Popular Science and a guitar magazine.

  “Done?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He took the magazines and book from her and went to the register. It bothered her that she couldn’t pay for her own stuff, but she had no cash. No credit cards. Everything had burned up in the fire, and she’d had no time to try to replace it just yet.

  When she’d gone into Walmart, he’d had to go with her and pay for everything there too. At least he hadn’t asked why she’d needed or wanted something. He’d just stood at the register and peeled off the bills when the purchases were totaled.

  The cashier was eyeing Chase from beneath her lashes as she rang up the books and magazines. Sophie felt a hard, hot feeling twist into her heart. She stepped up to Chase’s side and put her right arm around his waist and her left on his chest before she could think better of it.

  “I can’t wait to get to Paris and start our honeymoon, sweetheart,” she said on a sigh.

  Chase, bless him, played right along. “You’d better use the flight to rest, honey,” he said, “because I’m taking advantage of you the minute we get there.”

  The cashier stopped smiling and finished the transaction. Chase took the change, handed her the bag, and they walked out of the bookstore together, his arm around her shoulders. She felt warm and happy, even if they’d been pretending. That cashier hadn’t considered that she could be with a man like Chase until she’d pressed the point.

  A fake point, but so what. He’d played it perfectly.

  But all her happiness drained and she stumbled to a stop as her gaze landed on the man sitting in one of the chairs they’d vacated earlier. Chase kept his arm firmly around her, but his body tensed in readiness.

  “What is it?”

  “That man,” she whispered, her heart thundering. “I recognize him.”

  17

  “Who is he?” Chase asked, as Sophie stiffened beside him.

  Sophie clutched the bag of books to her chest as if they were a shield. “I’ve seen him with Grigori. I don’t know his name.”

  The man was sitting in the chair and scrolling through something on his phone. He glanced up from time to time, but gave no indication of recognizing Sophie.

  Which was a good thing, but who knew how long it might last?

  “Come on.” Chase started to push Sophie toward the guy and she pushed back, resisting his efforts to make her move. He was much stronger than she was and could do it forcibly, but that would be too obvious.

  “He’s already looked at us. He has no idea who you are. If you act like you’re afraid, you’ll draw attention. Now walk.”

  She moved, but reluctantly. Her body trembled as he held her close against his side.

  He bent his head to her ear. “I told you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. Trust me.”

  She relaxed marginally as he led her past the man and then to a seat a couple of rows over where they could see any moves this guy might make.

  Chase tugged her down and tucked her against him. She still clutched the magazines and her chest rose and fell a little too quickly. He reached over, took the bag, and set it down on the seat beside him. Then he tipped her chin up so she could look at him—and instead of telling her to calm down, he let his gaze slide to her mouth.

  Those red, plump, cherry lips that had tempted him earlier. That he hadn’t stopped thinking about since he’d kissed her at the rest stop. Every thought he’d had about keeping his hands off her evaporated.

  He wanted her. Wanted to strip her slowly, discover all her delicious secrets, and eat her up from head to toe. It didn’t matter that he shouldn’t do it, that she was his stepsister, that any involvement with her could bring his father back into his life. And what about his mother? Would she be hurt if he got involved with Tyler’s stepdaughter? She’d never said a negative word about either Justine or Sophie, but then she’d never been forced to endure their presence in her life either.

  Guilt ripped through him even as desire followed hard on its heels. Chase glanced up at the people in the surrounding gate area and then did what he wanted so badly to do.

  The instant his lips met Sophie’s, she moaned. It was a small sound, but it pounded through him like a summer squall on the Chesapeake. Her mouth slipped open and he thrust his
tongue inside, stroking hers. She stroked back, and his cock took notice.

  He knew he was getting that damned lipstick all over him again, but he didn’t much care. It wiped off. The cherry flavor of her lip gloss was sweet as he moved his mouth against hers.

  Her hands came up and slid around his neck. He tugged her in closer, almost on his lap, and bent her backward, kissing her with the kind of desperate passion he’d held in check earlier.

  “Get a room,” a male voice said.

  It was precisely what he needed to hear. He gentled the kiss and carefully extracted himself before things got any more out of control than they already were.

  Sophie looked up at him with wide eyes. Her lips were wet, and her lipstick was smeared. He knew it was smeared on him too. For some reason, that made him grin.

  Sophie grinned back. “You look like a clown.”

  “And you look delicious.” She hadn’t dropped the British accent at all. It turned him on more than it should.

  “I’d better get out the wipes again.”

  “Yep.”

  She didn’t bother looking at the man sitting with his back to them, but he knew she hadn’t forgotten he was there. She fished in her purse, handed him a wipe, and then took out a mirror and her lipstick.

  “You’re gonna go through that tube mighty fast,” he grumbled. “And the wipes.”

  “Not if you’d give me warning first, darling.”

  “Hard to warn you when I don’t know I’m going to do it until I do.”

  She finished slicking on the red lipstick and put everything back in her purse.

  “Feeling better?” he asked as he finished wiping the stain off his mouth.

  She glanced toward the man and then smiled. “A little bit, yes.”

  “You’re pretty fucking sexy, Beth Chandler,” he said, and she dropped her gaze as if she were embarrassed.

  He put a finger under her chin and tipped it up until she had to look him in the eye. “That’s the honest truth, baby. No lie.”

  She swallowed. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”

  He leaned toward her so only she could hear what he said. “I’m not being nice. It’s the truth—and if we were still in that house, I’d sink into you and not come up for hours.”