by Heather Long
“What are you thinking?” He squinted at her, but she didn’t take it as any kind of insult. He didn’t have his glasses on.
“Get up, and I’ll show you.”
He levered up, and she rose to her knees, then stood on the bed, careful to brace her head. Tugging the skirt up, she grinned at his riveted attention and then she stepped out of the panties. It took a little jiggling and then she went to her knees in front of him and pivoted. Glancing over her shoulder, she whispered, “How about just one quick ride for the road?”
Every part of her was electrified with anticipation.
“Oh thank God,” he exhaled the words and her body tingled at the sound of his zipper dropping. Then he pulled down his jeans and she got a good look at the length of cock jutting out.
“When we have time,” she whispered. “We’re doing this every way we’re imagining right now.”
He stroked his length, and the vein popping on the side of it seemed to thicken. Stretching across the bed, he pulled open another zipper and she didn’t slam her hand against the wall. Just bracing herself there, waiting was like a whole new form of torture. And it had been a long time since she’d been with anyone the way she wanted this man.
A rip of foil and she shuddered.
Then he trailed a finger down her bare ass. “Every way, we can imagine?” The brush of his knuckle against the rosette of her ass a torment and a promise in equal measures.
“Every. Way.” She rolled her hips toward him, and then his hand eased her thighs apart. With one finger, he parted her labia and she started shaking all over again. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Traveling a slow, lazy path to her clit, he circled the bundle of nerves like a shark debating whether he wanted a bite. Then suddenly he was at her ear as his cock pressed against her entrance. “I wanted to wait for you babe, I wanted to drive you mad.”
“I’m there, it’s a short trip.” It was all the encouragement he needed to sink into her. The thickness of his crown stretched her as he drove into her one relentless thrust and pressed against her clit in the same moment. Her tension both expanded and then shuddered free in an explosive burst of pleasure before beginning to ramp again.
His groan echoed hers, and thank fuck he was as into it as she was because his pounding rhythm ignited another set of nerves and she had to brace herself to rock back and meet him. Every stroke drove her right back to the edge, then he’d tease her clit and she almost fell as an orgasm startled her with its fierce release.
He didn’t let her fall, as he continued to drive into her. The rock and sway of his hips hit just the right spot, and as soon as she thought the orgasm would end, he pinched or stroked or hit it again and then she was flying. When he came it was all in rush and he cradled her against him, shaking.
The train slowed and the application of the brakes knocked them onto their sides. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but he was still buried in her and the tremors rioting through her system held her fast.
“To be continued,” he panted.
“Oh, yeah.” She twisted, and met his kiss as he dipped his head. This time it was both soothing and exciting. How could a man who turned her into knots and brought her pleasure so swiftly also relax her to the point of being sated while she wanted more? As he broke from the kiss, she stroked his cheek. “I want more.”
“You’ll get it,” he promised, then teased a finger across the hickey he’d made on her throat. “You should know…once I set my mind on something I don’t stop, and I don’t give up. Ever.”
“Is that a promise?” Because something told her when Jacko said he didn’t stop, he meant ever.
He eased from her and they both groaned. A throbbing sensation remained, the echo of feeling left behind where he’d rested inside of her. Filled her. The phantom wouldn’t leave her full for long though, she’d already wanted him back.
“I’ll write it down,” he said, cupping her sex with his palm and then sending another thrum of need through her as he teased her clit. “I want you to remember just where we were when we get to where we need to be.”
“You’re evil.” Yet she was grinning. Her body was putty, and he could bend her however he wanted.
“Not yet,” he said, shifting his position, and then before she knew what he planned he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh before he licked her from entrance to clit. “Yeah,” he groaned and the vibration sent another quake through her. “You’re sweet, and tangy. My favorite combination.”
The train was still slowing.
Then he murmured, “And we have a few more minutes…”
After that, all she could feel were his lips, his tongue, and his teeth as he stormed her right back to orgasm.
Thirty minutes and one conductor knocking on the door later, they left the train. The early hours of dawn in Paris and the sky was turning a brilliant pink in the distance were a perfect crown to a crazy night which ended in insanely good sex. Twilight still held the city of lights in her all jeweled glory in its grasp, and the effect one Coco had long enjoyed was lost on her as she walked hand in hand with Jacko.
They’d arrived a Gare du Lyon, a few blocks from the Bastille. That wasn’t ominous at all. “We’ll get a cab,” he murmured as he took lead. Once again he held her right hand, but it didn’t bother her near as much as it had the first time. He also had her panties in his backpack, assurance that he wouldn’t rip them when they arrived at the apartment. As titillating as the idea of hiding away in a safe house and playing, she had to question if they should.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go straight to Gare du Nord?” The London express train departed from that station.
“I thought about it,” he said, keeping her close as they followed the signs for where they might find a taxi. With his glasses on, his hair askew and his shirt rumpled, he was almost as sexy as he’d been in the compartment driving into her.
Almost.
Although, she had to admit now that she’d had a taste she didn’t think anything would compare. The ridiculous notion gave her pause. Romance. She’d never really thought of sex as anything more than scratching an itch. With Jacko, it had been intense, deeply physical, and mind blowing. It also left her hungry for more—but only with him.
“Hey,” he murmured, and she realized he’d paused and frowned at her. “Are you okay?”
No. No she wasn’t. She was absolutely not all right. Sex was great, but she was picturing something beyond the next tumble in bed. “I’m fine. Just tired.” Practice made her smile, even if she shook on the inside. When they got stateside, she’d have to work on clearing her name or at least go through extensive debriefings. She’d been out in the cold long enough that they’d look at every action she’d taken, every choice she’d made and they’d question them.
Jacko would go—wherever he went. Fuck, she didn’t know him. What the hell was she doing? Maybe she should be questioning her judgment.
“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but calm down,” he murmured. “Seriously—”
Whatever else he might have said he didn’t register because bullets begin flying. Screams ripped through the air—the streets weren’t crowded but there were enough people. Something grazed her shoulder, and she hissed but Jacko was already moving. She ran with him, as they dodged behind concrete columns.
Glass shattered, and more screams. A woman went down a few feet away from them. The hole in her skull all but declaring her dead. A few feet away a businessman went to his knees, clutching his throat.
“Down,” Jacko said, covering her head and keeping her pinned. Hiding while the fire happened didn’t sit well with her. Pain pulsed in her shoulder, but she grimaced as the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire roared around them. Sirens howled in the distance, the repetitive wah-wah climbing in volume.
Wheels squealed, and then a fresh roar of gunfire joined the first. A figure hit the column next to them, a bulletproof vest over his civilian gear. She had a knif
e out and ready to strike. The blade would have gone in his thigh if Jacko hadn’t caught her arm.
“He’s friendly,” he warned her. That was nice. She kept her back to the column as their protector returned fire.
“Roof of the building, northeast. I’ve got him pinned.” The man said, unrelenting as he returned fire. Across the way, Coco locked gazes with the businessman who was bleeding out.
“I can’t leave him.” She pushed away from Jacko and darted across the opening.
“Son of a bitch,” Jacko swore. Bullets tore up the concrete just behind her. A fragment sliced her leg, but she didn’t slow. Grabbing the downed man’s arm, she dragged him for the first cover she could see. Then Jacko was there, helping her. They got him up and she put pressure on the wound. It had gone through his back to his side. Hopefully it hadn’t perforated anything on the way through.
Their cover retreated to them. And he pressed against the column. “You two need to go as soon as we have this clear. We’ve got a car coming.”
They couldn’t just leave this—mass shootings and assaults happened, but one didn’t just walk away.
“You can and you will, ma’am. French forces will be in here in sixty seconds.” The gunfire from the other roof ceased. The silence almost eerie even as the sirens grew louder. “They’ll begin a sweep and lockdown. My men and I will get out, you two need to go—now.” The man knelt down and began stuffing something into the guy’s wound. “This is going to hurt.”
Dazed, the wounded man stared at him, but she repeated it in French. Of course, he triggered the pack which would start clotting the blood before he wrapped something around it. Jacko was already pulling her back through a breezeway. They had to run, there were cameras everywhere and sooner or later, they would be spotted on them.
She pulled out her sunglasses, and shoved them on. Jacko had his ball cap and seemed to be thinking the same thing. Pain hissed through her arm.
“You’re bleeding,” Jacko said, then swore.
“It’s a flesh wound. I’ll live. Let’s go.” Then they were on the street, and a car pulled up.
Sliding to a halt, she glanced to Jacko. “Coco. Wolf. Wolf. Coco.”
“Ma’am.” Then she was in the backseat with Jacko, and the vehicle did a full reverse the way he’d come, before he spun the car and turned it onto another side street. He was heading for the river. “Clothes in the bag, clean passports if you need them.”
The car raced through the city.
“Thanks man,” Jacko was turned in the seat, and he touched her shoulder. “Got a first aid kit in it?”
“You’re hit?”
“I am,” Coco answered. “It’s a flesh wound. I could use some gauze and tape to close it, but I’ll need a jacket if I plan on getting on the train.”
“We’ll handle it,” Jacko still sounded pissed. “How many hurt back there?” He had her shoulder bared, and a kit open. The shot in her upper arm stung, but numbness radiated out. The man had fantastic fingers, and it didn’t take him long to flush the wound, and close it. How he did it in a racing car without making a mess was fucking impressive.
“Numbers are still coming in. French police are closing it down.”
“Did Abe get out?” Abe must have been the man covering them.
“He’s clear.” Wolf made a face. “This is not the job we signed up for.”
“You and me both, brother.” Jacko didn’t offer an apology. “Drop us at the safe house, and walk away. I’ll get her to London from here.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Wolf said over his shoulder. “Just remind me to have a nice sit down with Wagner when we’re all home.”
“You should both walk away,” Coco said, then gritted her teeth as Jacko tightened the gauze. It didn’t have to be that harsh. “This shit is getting real.”
“Don’t worry about us ma’am. We were never here.”
The car came to an abrupt stop and she belatedly realized they’d pulled into a residential section. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Wolf called. “Seriously.”
Understood.
Jacko hustled them inside and the mysterious Wolf and his car vanished. Once inside the apartment, Jacko did a sweep, then dropped the backpack and pulled her to him. The kiss he pressed to her lips chased away some of the shadows, but not all of them.
When he let her up for air, she stared at him. If she looked anything like he did, hell was stamped on her face. “These bastards are killing a lot of innocents.”
“I know,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll get you out of here.”
She cared about that less than taking Percival or Yuri or whoever it was down. “I don’t know that I’m ready to go anymore.”
Yeah. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
Chapter 8
Jacko fumed as Coco stood in the shower. Her upper arm extending to her shoulder had more than just a stripe on it. Even with his blurred vision, he could make out the ugly bruise spreading out from where he’d applied butterflies to close the injury. The angle of it told him a lot about the sniper rifle that had been used.
He’d applied plastic wrap over it to keep it out of the water, but she wanted a shower and he had a damn hard time telling her no. Especially when she invited him to join her.
“Turn around,” she said, giving him a light nudge. “I want to get a look at your back.”
Fuck, he’d forgotten about his back. “I’m fine.”
“Uh huh. Show me that hot ass. I haven’t gotten to see what I know I can bounce a quarter off of.” The compliment wedged into his bad mood and he almost grinned as he turned obediently.
“I have a problem with looking at tile when I could be playing with your breasts. Have I mentioned they’re pretty spectacular?” They were, too. Just enough to fill his palm, crowned by almost blackberry colored nipples—dark like her hair and he couldn’t wait to find out if they were as tasty as her slick pussy. Just the thought had him turning back toward her.
“Uh uh.” She flattened her palm to his shoulder. “This is some damn ugly bruising you sexy beast.” Then she feathered her fingers along his spine. The hot shower was way more appetizing if he could pin her to the wall and begin their exploration of all the thing he wants to do.
“I can barely feel it.” Not a lie. The adrenaline dump he’d experienced at the station flooded his system, and turned off every ache and pain. The only thing it didn’t diminish was his fury. He hated bullies. Terrorists were just bullies with big guns. They thrived on fear.
Taking them out was why he’d enlisted, why he’d pushed himself to be the best—why he still pushed himself.
“What about here?” She applied some pressure along his ribcage.
“It’s not broken. Bruised, and I’m breathing fine.” Not that he was complaining about having her hands all over him, especially when she began lathering the soap and pressed her breasts to his back as she washed over his chest.
“And your head?”
“Still a little hungover.” See, he could be honest. “But I can tell you that I had the best cure for the after migraine ever earlier.”
Twisting, he slid against her breast to chest and grinned. She tipped her head back under the spray and it flattened the hair to her scalp. A trace of bruises appeared along her other shoulder, and what looked like finger marks bit into the back of one of her arms while a fist shaped bruise purpled over her breast.
“If you hadn’t taken those bastards out, I would have.” The marks all over her just incited him again. Like him, she had her share of scares. Zeroing in on the bruise he’d left on her throat, he tugged from the water to kiss it.
“You growl when you’re pissed,” she murmured, then sighed as he nuzzled the spot. “And just because this feels amazing doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about my plans.”
Her plans. “Those weren’t plans gorgeous,” he said, lifting his head long enough to look as he cupped her breasts and massaged the soap across t
hem gently. “That’s a suicide mission.”
“It’s my mission.”
Not only did he not need the reminder, he didn’t want to hear it. “Not anymore.”
Then her hand planted on the center of his chest and he halted. “No, Jacko. You don’t get to do that.”
Fuck, he loved the way she said his name. “I care. That means I get to.”
“No, it doesn’t. We can discuss it, we can even debate it, but at the end of the day—Eric Percival is my mission. If he’s behind these attacks, then I take him out or bring him in.”
“Personally, I prefer the former and it’s we take him out.” Not that he had any intention of risking her. “But he was your mission, and that mission changed when Wagner sent me to retrieve you. They need you state side, they need what’s in that beautiful brain of yours.”
What he didn’t add even as the thoughts percolated right to the surface of his mind was he needed her in the states, too. He had plenty of room at his current place, and he had three other houses he had rehabbed or outfitted as safe houses. They could live anywhere.
They.
A gleam of light bounced off the gold band on her left hand. Catching her fingers he lifted the hand to his lips.
“You realize we’ve known each other less than twenty-four hours, right?”
“Don’t care,” he admitted, and he didn’t. “I think I fell for you the moment you tripped me.”
Her lips twitched, robbing her severe expression of power. “As I recall you tackled me.”
“Potato, po-tah-to.” It might sound like a jest, but a cold fist wrapped around his heart. In twenty-four hours there had been three attempts on her life and if Wolf’s team hadn’t been on the ground at the station… No, he wasn’t thinking about that.
“Jacko, if I go back—you realize they might put me in a hole.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his pec, followed by a light scrape of her teeth. The shower they were in was small, but it had a little ledge. Gripping her hips, he lifted her onto it.
