by Kaylea Cross
The hard ridge of his erection pressed into her belly, maddening her with the promise of what she couldn’t have. His tongue teased hers, a slow, sensual caress that revved her arousal even higher. Rowan squirmed to get closer, standing on tiptoe to rub the seam of her jeans against his erection.
The hand in her hair tightened, squeezing as his other reached down to cup her ass and lift her higher, aligning their bodies until she got what she was looking for. God, she remembered what he had felt like inside her, how thick and hard he’d been, the way he’d shifted his hips so that he stroked just the right spot inside her while his thumb on her clit made her mindless. The friction now was torture, yet she didn’t want it to end.
But of course it did.
All too soon he slowed the kiss, gentled his grip and lowered her back down until the soles of her feet were flat on the floor again. Rowan stroked her hands over the back of his head, feeling the slightly rough texture of his short hair. Down his neck to those gorgeous shoulders and across his back. Tracing the muscles, loathing the moment when she had to let him go and face an unknown length of separation from him.
Malcolm ran a soothing hand up her back, his fingers tracing the length of her spine as he kissed the corner of her mouth, paused to suck at her lower lip. Nip it.
“The next time I get you naked, I’m gonna take my time and kiss you everywhere,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth. “Especially here,” he added, rocking the hard ridge of his erection between her open thighs. “Until you melt all over my tongue.”
Rowan barely managed to stifle a whimper, her whole body clenching with need. She’d imagined it countless times; it was her favorite masturbation fantasy. But she had a feeling that reality was going to blow her mind. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
He raised his head, met her stare, his pupils all but swallowing the chocolate rim of his irises. “Good. I want you to hold my head between your thighs while I lick you until you scream and come on my tongue.”
A torrent of molten desire pooled low in her belly, between her legs, her clit throbbing at the thought of his mouth on her. Oh, Jesus, the things he said in that deep, wicked voice… “That was dirty,” she accused, aching and knowing she would have only herself to take the edge off with later.
“Oh, sweetness, that wasn’t even close to the way I do dirty, I promise you.”
A discreet clearing of a throat behind them made her want to growl at the man. Malcolm chuckled softly, pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back. “Good night. Sleep tight. I’ll be in touch.”
She nodded, forced herself to let go and behave like an in-control adult. But she was suddenly cold without his arms around her. She wrapped hers around her waist, watched as the marshal went through the ritual of taking him out, locking the door behind them.
Hand pressed against the closed door, the sting of tears in her throat told her he’d just taken her heart with him.
Chapter Twenty
Victoria Gomez walked out into the psychologist’s waiting room expecting to find one of the two U.S. Marshals assigned to her personal security detail there, but stopped short when she saw Supervisory Special Agent Brock Hamilton instead.
He rose from his chair, a smile on his chiseled, masculine face as he set aside the magazine he’d been reading. His brown hair was short and neat after a recent cut. “Hi.”
“Hi. This is a surprise.” Except for the few hours she’d spent with him at the shooting range, the only time she left the WITSEC orientation center was to meet with lawyers or investigators, or for her twice-weekly appointments here. She was the government’s key witness in the upcoming Ruiz trial, so they didn’t take any chances with her safety.
He put his hands into his jeans pockets, made no move to come toward her, as though he knew it made her uneasy to be close to a man, especially when they were alone. Except he couldn’t know that he was the one man she felt most at ease with. “The guys said it would be all right for me to come in, so I could talk to you.”
She tilted her head, sensing something was wrong. Of course he wouldn’t just show up to say hi. “About what?”
Those steel gray eyes never wavered from hers, and the sheer masculine authority of his presence would have been frightening if she didn’t already trust him on such a deep level. He was a tall, physically powerful man in prime condition, and he had been trained to do violent things that, after what she’d endured, should have made her afraid to be alone in the same room with him.
Yet standing here alone with him, there was no fear. In fact, if anything, being this close to him made her feel safer. She would never forget what he’d done for her that night when she’d finally escaped the hellhole Ruiz’s men had chained her up in. The way he’d wrapped her up in that blanket and carried her out of the forest. He’d sat next to her, holding her hand as the ambulance transported her to the hospital. Even there, he’d stayed at her bedside, a stranger acting as a sentinel, watching over her.
“We’re not sure how it happened yet, but Oceane and her mother were just attacked at their safehouse.”
Shock and dread coiled like a rattlesnake in the pit of her stomach. “Are they all right?” She might not like either of them, but in a way they were both victims too, caught up in the intricate web Nieto had woven for them.
“No. Anya’s dead, but Oceane’s all right. The men who attacked Anya…” He stopped, cleared his throat and broke eye contact as he debated whether or not to continue.
“They what?” Although Victoria was almost certain she knew what he had been about to say.
“The attackers sexually assaulted her.”
Her whole body tensed, an instinctive reaction as memories she wished she could bury flashed through her mind. Images of her while held captive, naked and helpless. Of the things those animals masquerading as humans had done to her. The things she’d done, been forced to do, in order to survive.
She swallowed, forced back the wave of horror and panic trying to take over. With time and therapy she was slowly learning to shut off that fight or flight response when flashbacks hit her, but it wasn’t easy and she still had a long way to go before she won that fight. But win it she would. Eventually. She had to. “And then they shot her.”
“No. They used knives. And they didn’t kill her outright.”
Revulsion swept through her as his meaning registered. They’d been playing with Anya. Enjoying her suffering. Wanting to prolong it. “Evil, filthy pigs.” She could just imagine how they’d laughed, probably gotten harder the more Anya had screamed and fought, the sight and smell of her fear, the blood, fueling their depraved lust.
Hamilton nodded, met her eyes once more. “Oceane arrived in the middle of it. Her former bodyguard was there, hiding in the house, wounded. She shot him and he died on scene.”
The news surprised her, and she paused a moment before answering. “Good for her.” Maybe she’d been too harsh in her opinion of Oceane. God knew Victoria had wanted to hate her right from the moment they met, because of who her father was and the cartel he was part of. “Who were the attackers?”
“We don’t have identities yet, but they’re connected to the Veneno cartel. The FBI would like you to look at their pictures, in the hopes that you could maybe identify them.”
She nodded. “Of course.” Her captors hadn’t expected her to escape before they shipped her off to a buyer in Asia with some other captive women, therefore they hadn’t taken the precaution of blindfolding her or covering their faces during her time as a hostage.
A fatal error on their part that Victoria was doing her damndest to exploit. If she could bring even a percentage of those bastards to justice for what they’d done, it might help her sleep at night. “
“Who ordered the attack?” she asked.
“No hard evidence on that yet either. And nobody knows how they found the women.”
Victoria frowned, a tiny, cold shiver working its way up her spine. “If the bodyguard was involve
d, then it stands to reason that Nieto ordered it.” But it didn’t explain how he’d found the safehouse.
“They’re looking at all the possibilities.”
“Where is Oceane?” They had more in common now than Victoria would ever have guessed possible. And as much as she’d wanted to hate the girl, she couldn’t. Not after this.
“At the hospital.”
“Was she hurt?”
“Not physically.”
She sighed. “I was wrong about her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought she must be cut from the same cloth as her father. But it sounds like she’s as much a victim as I was.” And no one knew better than her what Oceane was going through right now, having watched her mother dying right in front of her.
“Was,” he stressed.
She looked at him questioningly, the vehemence of his tone striking a chord deep inside her.
His gaze was steady on her. And his eyes held a hint of something that sent a wave of warmth through her. Admiration. “Not anymore.”
“No,” she agreed, the hint of a smile on her lips. For some reason his opinion of her mattered. She didn’t want him to think of her as the broken woman he’d carried from the woods that night. She wanted him to see her for the woman she was trying to become. A warrior set on a quest for vengeance—even if it was only in the legal system.
“Especially now, since you could put a bullet in his heart from fifty feet away,” he added, a teasing note in his voice.
She grinned. It felt strange, her face stiff as though her muscles were unused to the movement, but it also felt good. “I could, couldn’t I?”
“You absolutely could.”
Because of him.
She let her gaze flit over his face once more, pausing a fraction of a second on his lips. Her libido was as dead as her former life and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever regain that part of herself again, and yet…there was something about this man that drew her powerfully, and she couldn’t deny that she found him attractive. Not just physically, either. He intrigued her on all levels.
She pushed away the wayward thought, focused on the here and now. “What about my situation? Is there any threat against me?”
“Nothing credible that anyone’s told me about. That’s actually why they sent me down here, to make sure you know you’re safe. They’re doubling up security at the WITSEC facility right now and adding a backup team to your security detail for the ride back. Just to play it safe they’re going to keep you there until they find out what happened today and figure out how the attackers found Oceane and Anya.”
Victoria nodded. “That all makes sense.” She paused. “I’m surprised they sent you to relay the intel, but I’m glad, too.”
He shrugged his broad, muscled shoulders. “I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
So he’d volunteered, then. Victoria studied him for a moment, trying to figure him out. He was FAST Bravo’s team leader. He had countless other more important responsibilities and things to take care of than looking out for her. “Why?” She would hate it if he felt sorry for her.
His expression gave nothing away. “Because I did.”
She hid a smile at his stubborn non-answer, wondering about his motivation. It was nice to know he cared about her well-being, but she couldn’t let herself depend on or get attached to him. And he was the kind of man who made that idea far too tantalizing for someone recovering from an ordeal like the one she’d survived.
In the end, that was Ruiz’s biggest mistake. He’d let her live. And now she would end his reign of terror, bring it all crashing down on him.
“Is my security detail outside in the hall? I’d like to go see Oceane right now,” she said, changing the subject to steer her thoughts away from dangerous and useless territory.
He frowned a little at that. “Why?”
“Because I’ve been where she is. And she shouldn’t have to face this alone.”
****
“Lockhart. She in there?”
Special Agent Gabe Lockhart looked up from his phone where he’d been scrolling through his sports feed outside the door to the hospital morgue. The FBI SAIC he’d met back at the safehouse was striding down the empty hall toward him, a group of folders tucked under one arm. “Yeah.”
“I need to talk to her.”
Was he freaking serious? “Now?”
The SAIC nodded. “Sooner the better.”
“She’s saying goodbye to her mother,” Gabe pointed out, attempting to make his tone respectful but unsure whether he pulled it off. Didn’t care whether he had. You know, the one she just watched bleed out from multiple stab wounds less than three hours ago? “Only been in there twenty minutes with her.”
“I’m sorry for that, but this investigation is moving faster than we initially anticipated. As she’s still a primary witness, I need to update her on a few things, and then bring her in for more questioning.”
Gabe wanted to argue with him, but it wasn’t his place so he forced himself to be more diplomatic. “Can’t we give her ten more minutes?”
“Five.”
Fine. “Five,” he agreed, mentally shaking his head. Oceane wasn’t his official responsibility anymore and he barely knew her, but fuck, she should at least be allowed to take as much time as she needed to say goodbye to the woman who had not only been her mother, but her best friend as well. She was only twenty-four, but she seemed younger than that sometimes, and older at others.
What had gone down back at that safehouse would make a seasoned federal agent’s blood curdle, but for someone like Oceane? Who had until recently been completely sheltered from the cold reality of the outside world? Come on. She was fucking devastated and barely coping.
The SAIC kept glancing at his watch, practically counting down the seconds as they waited. At the five-minute mark, he spoke. “You want to go in there and get her, or should I?”
“I’ll go,” Gabe muttered, getting to his feet. At least he was a familiar face to her. Maybe she didn’t like or trust him, but better than a stranger right now. God, this day sucked.
The outer room was an office for the medical examiner and the pathologists working for her. She was at her desk working on her computer when Gabe walked in. “I need to escort Miss Nieto out now,” he said.
“Of course. Just through there,” she said, indicating a locked door with a keycode box beside it. She led the way, covered the keycode with one hand so he couldn’t see as she entered the combination, twisted the knob and stepped back. “Go ahead,” she whispered. “I’ll give you some privacy. She was pretty upset.”
Yeah, well, no shit. “Thank you.”
A wave of cold air surrounded him as he stepped into the refrigerated room. Oceane sat with her back to him on a stool beside the table where her mother’s body had been placed, on her back with a sheet pulled up to her neck. She was holding her mother’s hand, Anya’s medium-brown skin a few shades paler in death, nearly the same now as Oceane’s.
Hating to interrupt such a private thing but having no choice, Gabe quietly closed the distance and stopped a couple of feet behind her. Anya’s face was calm in death, beautiful. The sick fuckers who had attacked her had left her face alone, and the sheet hid all the wounds. At least Oceane hadn’t had to sit here looking at them.
After carefully choosing his words, he opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it. “If we hadn’t been caught in traffic on the way back, I might have gotten there in time to save her.” Her accented voice was so quiet, heartbroken.
Christ, he didn’t know what to say to that, stood there awkwardly, trying to pick his moment to deliver the news.
“She was my best friend. And I trusted Arturo.”
“I’m so sorry,” was all he could manage. His heart went out to her. No one should see what she had today. He thought of his own mother who had raised him as a single parent, tried to imagine what he would feel like if he’d had to watch happen to her what Oceane ha
d today. He’d be in pieces.
Oceane twisted the stool around to face him. Her eyes were a pretty blue-gray, like the lake back home in Bend, Oregon. Her chocolate curls were looser than her mother’s. And the utter devastation in her face was so raw it sliced at his insides. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
The shock of loss was something that never got easier. Not ever. So there was nothing he could do or say to make this part any easier.
“She’s always been there for me,” she continued in that same empty tone. “Even through all of this, even though I was angry with her and felt betrayed by her hiding the truth from me my whole life… I loved her more than anything. I thought we could build a new life together. I thought…I thought we’d have more time together.” She pressed her lips together, sucked in a ragged breath.
“You should have had more time together,” he said quietly, bringing her gaze up to his. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She stared up at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Thank you.” Shifting, she glanced down at the hand curled around her mother’s, then back up at him. “I guess you’re here to say I have to leave?”
He nodded. “The special agent in charge needs to speak to you. He’s outside.”
The distress on her face made him feel like dog shit on the bottom of someone’s shoe. “I don’t…don’t know if I can leave her like this, I…”
Gabe reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Even through the top she wore, he could feel how chilled her skin was. She shuddered, inhaled shakily.
“You’re freezing. Come out into the hall and talk to the agent. You can come back and see her later if you want.” He’d drive her here personally if he had to. This whole thing was bullshit.
Torment in her eyes, she turned to face her mother once more. Stared down into her still face for endless seconds. “Vaya con Dios, Mami. Te amo,” she choked out, then bent to kiss her mother’s cold, pale forehead, released her hand and stood. “Hurry,” she begged him, reaching for his hand as she took a step away from the table. “Before I lose my nerve.”
