Hot Protector: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10

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Hot Protector: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10 Page 14

by Lynn Raye Harris


  “Apparently not the right people.”

  “People? You into girls too? Because I could totally get into that—you and another hot babe kissing—”

  She put her hand over his mouth, her cheeks red. He wanted to laugh. Hell, he didn’t want to share her with anyone really, but he couldn’t help but tease her.

  “Not people. Men. I like men, not women, and I am not kissing another woman just to trip your trigger.”

  He licked her palm. “Too bad,” he said when she snatched it away.

  She yawned and stretched. “You know, I’m kind of hungry now.”

  Unbelievable. “So basically, if I want you to eat more, I have to fuck you first?”

  She grinned. “Works for me.”

  Worked for him too. In fact, it worked right now. He rolled on top of her, his dick already hard and ready to go again. He licked her bottom lip, then sucked it into his mouth.

  “Once more unto the breach,” he whispered.

  She gripped his hair and pulled his head back. Her eyes were suspicious. “I thought you hated Shakespeare.”

  “I said Julius Caesar was a bore. You assumed the rest.”

  “You didn’t know who the Bard of Avon was. You said so.”

  “A white lie,” he murmured. “You just seemed so prissy about it that I couldn’t help but go along with it to shock you.”

  “You’re bad, Chase. Very, very bad.”

  He snorted. “Oh honey, you have no idea. But I aim to show you…”

  23

  She was totally going to hell. Sophie stood at the window in the kitchen, looking at the Eiffel Tower in the soft light of afternoon. She was pleasantly sore between her thighs, and she had love bites on her neck. She was also completely addicted to Chase.

  Her stepbrother.

  Oh, my…

  It was so wrong, but thinking of him like that gave her a thrill. As if they were doing something unspeakably illicit, something that would get them thrown out of polite society. They weren’t, of course. They’d never been part of a family unit together, never lived with each other day in and day out, never gone to the same schools or known the same people.

  Their only connection was Tyler, and that was a tenuous one as far as Chase was concerned. Tyler had never been a father figure to him. And he hadn’t been much of one to her, quite honestly.

  She could only imagine what her mother and Tyler would say if they knew. Then again, why would they care? They hadn’t much cared about anything she’d ever done, except not be skinny enough.

  Well, that was her mother, not Tyler. He didn’t even care about that. Why would they care that she was fucking Chase?

  Fucking a man who was technically her stepbrother.

  And there was that thrill again. She remembered Chase as a gorgeous, moody teenager, remembered when she’d started thinking about sex and how he’d figured into some of her masturbatory fantasies. She’d touched herself and thought of the boy in the room down the hall—and now the boy was a man, and he touched her better than she’d ever touched herself.

  She heard the bedroom door open—her bedroom door because he hadn’t left her alone the way she’d thought he might when they were finished—and she turned. Her heart flipped and then pounded faster.

  He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved gray Henley with the top two buttons undone. There was a mark on his neck, right above his collar, and heat pooled between her thighs at the sight. She’d done that. She’d marked him the way he’d marked her.

  God help her, she wanted to do it again.

  His dark hair was still damp after his shower, but his eyes smoldered as he looked at her across the room. They simply stared at each other, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Was it regret? Desire? Disgust?

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  How was she feeling? Uptight. Jumpy. Needy. Angry because she wasn’t here to have fantastic sex with a gorgeous man but rather because some asshole was threatening her life.

  And then there was the tenderness between her legs, the delicious little hurts of the love bites on her skin, and the tingling in her nipples even now as she stared at him. How could she quantify any of that into words?

  “I feel fine,” she said. It was a lame response, and his eyes narrowed.

  “Fine.” He stalked toward her and her pulse fluttered. When he stopped in front of her, he didn’t touch her. But he was close enough that his body heat enveloped her. “What’s that mean, Sophie?”

  She swallowed as she stared up at him. “It means I feel fine. I’m not hurt or upset or anything.”

  His gaze dropped to the vee of her sweater. Bless whoever had picked out clothes for her, because they’d managed to get things that flattered her body instead of making her look and feel fat. She knew they’d hacked her credit card records, but there were things in there she’d bought that she didn’t like. Thankfully they hadn’t chosen those styles.

  “How do you feel about what we did last night?”

  Wow, that was blunt. She could feel the heat blossom in her cheeks. “How do you feel?”

  He snorted and pushed a hand through his hair. “You want me to answer before you do. I get it.”

  He took a step closer to her and put a hand on her hip, drawing her into him. She didn’t resist because what kind of crazy woman would?

  “I feel like I want to do everything we did last night again,” he said. “I feel like I’d fucking kill for the chance to taste you right now—and yeah, I feel guilty too.”

  That shocked her. He was such a hard, dangerous man that she hadn’t thought he could feel guilty about any of this. She’d thought he might be angry with her, or with himself, for what they’d done. She’d thought he’d be pissed because of the connection to his father. She’d never thought guilt would enter into it.

  “But why? Why are you feeling guilty?”

  “Because you’re sweet and inexperienced. Because this can’t end well for us, no matter how hot we are together. There’s no future here, Sophie, and you need to know it. I should have told you before—but I didn’t.”

  Her heart ached at his words even though she knew they were true. “I didn’t ask you for a future, did I?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not stupid, Chase. I know why we can’t be together, assuming we’d even want to be after this. It’s sex, nothing more.”

  Surprisingly, it hurt to say that. There was something about being with Chase that made her feel things she’d never felt in her life. It wasn’t love or anything like that—how could it be?—but it was something more than just sex.

  For her anyway.

  He threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped her head in his hand. “You haven’t had a lot of experience,” he said softly, and her stomach hitched.

  “What makes you think that?”

  His smile was tender. “Honey, a man knows.”

  “So now you’re telling me I suck? Geez, Chase, way to make a girl feel grand.”

  He snorted. “You definitely don’t suck. You’re pretty damn hot in bed, in fact. But you haven’t fucked a lot of men. It’s not a criticism. In fact, I find it to be a bit of a turn-on.”

  “That’s because you’re lecherous.”

  “Show me a man who isn’t.”

  He had her there. She put her hand on his wrist, held him lightly. She loved that she could do that. That she had the right to do it, at least for now.

  “So I haven’t been with a lot of men. So what? It doesn’t mean I don’t know what this is, okay?”

  His gaze settled on her mouth. “I’m not sure I know what this is.”

  She squeezed his wrist. “Yes, you do. It’s not just sex—it’s the connection between us, the one that says we shouldn’t be doing this. It turns you on. It turns me on. Because it’s not wrong, but it kind of feels like it should be. Your father is my stepfather. What if we’d been doing this as teenagers in Tyler’s house? That would have been crossing a line, and I th
ink we both think about it when we’re together. It’s naughty, right? And naughty feels good.”

  His grin was all kinds of sinful. “Yeah, naughty feels damn good. I’ve got a few naughty things I’d like to do to you, but we’ve got a mission and time is not on our side.” His grin faded. “This isn’t wrong, Sophie. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. The only connection we have is on paper—your adoption certificate and my birth certificate. And if I heard you right, he wasn’t much more of a father to you than he was to me.”

  She frowned. “You didn’t hear me wrong. Tyler and my mother… Well, it’s a good thing they never had kids of their own. They aren’t abusive or anything, but they just aren’t equipped for dealing with others’ needs.”

  “I hate to tell you this, baby, but neglecting a child is abuse. It might not seem like it, but it is. They should have put you first.”

  She sucked in a breath. She could feel her chin quivering, feel herself on the verge of losing her shit. He cupped her cheeks in both hands and kissed her, staving off the breakdown. It was such a tender, sweet kiss that her heart clenched tight in her chest as other feelings assailed her.

  No one had ever treated her like her feelings were important. Part of that was her fault because she hid them so well—but not with Chase. He had a way of digging deep, of forcing her to show her vulnerability.

  “You okay?” he whispered against her lips.

  She pulled back and looked into his green eyes, her stomach flipping at the intensity and tenderness she saw there. She wanted more of that. Wanted to wake up and see that look on a man’s face every day of her life.

  Sophie nodded, but he didn’t remove his hands from her face. “So what happens next?” she asked, needing to escape the feelings swirling in her heart. “When are we going to get the flash drive?”

  He ran his fingers down her throat, dropped his hands. “You’re going to call Madame Renard, and you’re going to tell her I’m coming to get the package.”

  She started to protest, but he anticipated her.

  His hand covered her mouth. His eyes flashed hot. “This is not up for debate, Sophie. I’m going alone. Sergei Turov is almost certainly watching Tyler’s building, and he won’t be doing it alone.”

  She pulled his hand away, determined to have her say. “He didn’t recognize me. How will he know it’s me if I go with you?”

  “He saw us in Baltimore, and he can put two and two together. We can’t take that chance.”

  Sophie’s stomach churned. She wanted to argue with him, but she knew he was right. There was no reason for her to go. They’d come this far and that was enough. Far safer to let him go on his own.

  “When are you going?”

  He let out a breath, as if he’d expected more argument from her and was surprised she didn’t offer it. “I had a text from Hawk earlier. The package should be delivered anytime after two tomorrow afternoon. That’s as specific as the carrier gets.”

  “What about the tracking number? Doesn’t that help?”

  “Not much, which is probably good considering Androv has access to the same information. The location scans aren’t showing up immediately in the system. By the time they do, the package has moved on. The most specific the information will be is when the package is loaded on the van for delivery. Turov could intercept the van, but that’s not easy to do when there are hundreds of delivery vans in the city. He won’t know which one is the correct one until it pulls up in front of Tyler’s building. He could guess before that moment—but if he’s wrong, it’s risky to storm random delivery vans and demand packages.”

  Sophie dragged in a frustrated breath and turned away from him. God, it was all so complicated. “Why did I mail it? Why didn’t I just take it with me and hand it over when I reached you?”

  His hands were on her shoulders. She liked it much too much.

  “You were scared. Getting the flash drive out of your possession wasn’t a bad thing to do.”

  “But now all we can do is wait for it to show up—and hope Turov doesn’t get it first.”

  “No plan is without flaws.” He pushed her hair aside and put his mouth to her neck. Softly. Gently. His tongue caressed the love bites, and a shiver slipped down her spine. “If we have to wait, I can think of a few things we can do.”

  Warmth flooded her core. And a wave of tenderness swept through her heart. “Do you want to be naughty, Chase?”

  “Oh, hell yeah.”

  “We just got dressed,” she said as his fingers slipped beneath her sweater.

  “Is that a problem?”

  He found her nipple, tweaked it. Sophie bit her lip to stop the moan in her throat.

  “Definitely not.”

  “Good, because I want to strip you naked and bend you over. Then I’m going to fuck you from behind until you scream my name.” He licked her neck and she shuddered hard, her pussy tingling with anticipation. “How does that sound?”

  “Like something I’m going to enjoy.”

  “Fuck yeah, it does.” He straightened and turned her toward him. “But first, call Madame Renard.”

  He held out his cell phone and she took it with shaking fingers. “I have to call Tyler to get the number. It was in my phone, but I don’t remember it.”

  Chase’s expression went carefully blank. “Then call him.”

  “Do you want to talk to him?”

  The corners of his mouth tightened. She wanted to kiss that tension away, but she didn’t move. Her fingers were sweaty where she gripped the phone and her heart throbbed.

  But Chase didn’t get angry—or if he did, he didn’t show it.

  “No, I don’t want to talk to him.”

  She started to punch in the number, but he reached out and touched her hand.

  “Don’t stay on the line, Sophie. Any tracking attempts will be jammed by the system, but the longer you talk, the more information you give away. Just ask for the number and get off the line.”

  She blinked at him. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Do better than your best, babe. Our lives depend on it.”

  24

  She’d gotten the phone number while Chase stood there and listened to the call, gritting his teeth and trying not to snatch the phone away and tell Tyler what a motherfucking asshole he was. And not just because of how he’d treated Chase’s mom.

  Now he added Sophie to that mix. She was a tender, sweet, lonely girl who’d deserved better from the asswipes who’d raised her. He’d thought she’d grown up with everything she’d ever wanted, but he understood now that the things she’d wanted couldn’t be bought.

  She’d managed Tyler well enough, getting the number and getting him off the phone quickly, and then she’d called Madame Renard. She’d spoken in French, and he’d stared at her as if she’d turned into an alien. She hadn’t spoken French at the airport, nor with the estate agent—though there was that one moment when she’d said merci. But anyone could do that. He’d thought nothing of it, but damn if she didn’t speak French.

  And it was sexy as all fuck.

  When she got off the phone, she shook her head. Chase’s gut churned at the look on her face.

  “Madame says there have been men in and out of the building all day. She won’t give Tyler’s mail to a strange man she doesn’t know.”

  Chase wanted to punch something. Instead, he focused on the obvious while he worked to control his temper. “You speak French. You didn’t tell me that.”

  “And you quote Shakespeare.”

  “Fucking to be or not to be, baby. That is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Damn, Chase, listen to you rock Hamlet old-school.”

  “I’m a man of many talents.”

  Sophie handed him the phone and then shoved her hands into her pockets. “So I guess I have to go with you after all.”

  A flash of anger sizzled into him. “How do I know you even suggested she give me the p
ackage without you there?”

  Because she spoke fucking French. For all he knew, she’d been discussing the weather with Madame Renard.

  Her eyes widened. And then her brows slanted down. “You think I would do that?”

  “I don’t know,” he growled. “Maybe. You didn’t tell me about Madame Renard until we hit Paris—not to mention how determined you were to come with me in the first place.”

  Her cheeks were red, but not with embarrassment. With anger, he decided as her eyes flashed. “I’m not stupid, Chase. Yes, I wanted to come to Paris because it’s my life in danger, and no, I didn’t tell you about Madame Renard at first. I already told you why.”

  “Will she give the package to you?”

  “I think so. I told her that Tyler would call her and give her permission to do so.”

  “Fucking hell. So now you have to call that asshole back.”

  “Yes, I do. But not right now.”

  “This blows, Sophie. You going anywhere near that fucking building is not safe. Turov and his men will be all over it tomorrow, waiting for the package to arrive. We’re going to have to change the plan. We’ll have to hit the carrier before he gets to the building.”

  She swiped her tongue over her lower lip and heat arrowed into his cock. Not right now.

  “How are we going to do that?”

  He took out his phone. “Going to call Hawk and see what information he can get. Then we’re going shopping.”

  “Shopping?”

  “You aren’t disguised enough, baby. Not for getting anywhere near Tyler’s place. We’re going to fix that.”

  She cocked her head. “You aren’t worried they’ll spot me tonight while we’re out, but I need to be more disguised tomorrow?”

  “That’s exactly right.”

  Her sudden smile did things to him that he didn’t understand. Her expression was happy, and that made him happy for some reason, in spite of all the turmoil. Damn, what was that all about?

  “Okay, let’s do it,” she said. “I don’t get it, but let’s do it.”

  He called Hawk and explained the change in plan. It would necessitate moving to another safe house afterward, but that was doable. And then there was the matter of getting the carrier’s movements in real time. That wasn’t going to be easy, but Hawk was on it. If that failed, then yeah, they were going into Madame Renard’s with guns blazing—well, maybe not literally, but close.

 

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