Nike's Wings

by Valerie Douglas

  Ty needed to feel her skin… Please God… He slid his hand beneath the crisp cotton of her dress to cup the warm soft flesh of her breast, the nipple already incredibly hard. His breath caught to feel that fullness so heavy in his hand, the nipple so hard, so taut against his palm, and to hear her soft whimper at the intimate caress.

  In the soft pre-dawn light, he curled his fingers around that firm ivory globe, drew it out of the stiff cotton and brushed his thumb lightly across the tightly furled nipple as he looked into her dazzled eyes.

  He watched her head fall back when he closed his mouth over that stiffening point. He felt her breast swell against his hand, his mouth. Her nipple tightened to a hard point against his tongue. She gasped, and her back arched to give him more.

  Catching that tight hardness in his mouth, he drew on it as his hand slid down to her waist, over her hip, his fingers curling, drawing, gathering the material of her skirt in his fingers to slide beneath it… Heat met his touch, and dampness beneath thin lace. She was so wet, so hot. So tight. He plunged a finger inside her, and her whole body jolted, arched, as she shuddered. His other hand closed in her hair as her hand slipped inside his pajama bottoms to take him in hand.

  He jolted at her touch, groaned.

  “Look at me,” he demanded, and her dazed, hazed eyes met his as he touched her, found her.

  She cried out softly. “Ty.”

  He watched as her eyes locked on his even as his fingers worked inside her and hers stroked him. Tears filled her eyes and he saw her pleasure build within her as she shuddered. She bent like a bow as it took her… Color rushed beneath her skin.

  Ty felt her hand tighten around him, the soft smooth skin stretched tight over his rigid hardness.

  Niki clutched at him, at Ty, and held on, as sweetness poured through her as her eyes went blind. Ecstasy burst through her at the feel of Ty’s fingers inside her. She bit back her cry of glory, of completion and satisfaction as she came hard and fast, her body quivering wildly.

  It was wonderful, glorious.

  Release.

  Ty was desperate for it. If they had more time, if they were alone…, but he needed. Pleasure exploded… He erupted, pumping into her hand, against her smooth tight belly as she pressed her body against him.

  His hips thrust…

  Ty cupped her head as he emptied against her and she looked up at him, into his eyes. He lowered his mouth to hers even as he throbbed against her warm soft skin and she held him against her.

  Limp, trembling, they leaned into each other, half-laughing, trying to catch their breath.

  “I haven’t done anything like that since I was…” Ty said, leaning his forehead against hers.

  He curled a hand over the back of her neck, holding on as his knees went weak.

  “…since ever,” Niki gasped, looking into up into his eyes, her lips curving.

  Chuckling weakly, he said, “Since never…”

  Niki laughed lightly.

  He brushed his mouth over her smooth cheek.

  “Niki,” he said.

  A door opened down the hall. They both heard it.

  It was a jolt, a sudden vivid reminder they weren’t really alone.

  For a moment they both went still, looking at each other like guilty teenagers.

  There was no time.

  He had to leave; he knew it… They both knew it. Someone was up, awake. Footsteps approached from down the hall. He didn’t want to go.

  Instead he touched her cheek, lightly. “Niki.”

  For a fraction of a second, Niki allowed herself to turn her face into the curve of his palm. She pressed her lips there to feel the warmth of it, her breath coming short.

  Ty looked down into her face and lowered his mouth to hers briefly, just a brush of his lips against hers.

  Her breath hitched.

  Her eyes slanted up to meet Ty’s glance, her lips curving just a little and then she took a breath.

  There was no time for more, for the words that should be said.

  Reluctantly he stepped away.

  “I guess I do have to make breakfast, now,” she said, lightly, turning on the water in the sink, running her hands beneath it, washing them.

  Ty said, “I should go.”

  “I know.”

  He traced her cheek with his fingers.

  “You should go,” she echoed softly, a small smile curving her lips.

  Her eyes were bright, but she smiled.

  It took an effort, but she was right, he had to go… This wouldn’t look good. It wouldn’t be good for morale.

  Nodding, suddenly completely breathless, Nike turned away to concentrate on measuring out the coffee.

  She glanced over her shoulder briefly to catch a glimpse of him walking away. She loved the long lean look of him. He was still so beautiful.

  Then she went back to making coffee.

  For a moment Ty looked back, to see Nike’s lovely face in profile as she turned back to the coffee machine. Had she been watching him leave?

  She looked so beautiful in that dress…and she’d never answered his question. Who’d done that to her, left those horrific scars he’d felt beneath her tattoos? His fingers seemed to echo with them. Whatever had been done to her hadn’t been in her file, either, he knew that. The Agency had to have known. How much else about her had they kept from him? From them? What else didn’t they know?

  For a moment, he looked back.

  She was lovely in the gilded half-light as the sun peeked above the horizon and bathed her in warm radiance. A part of him wanted to go back, to finish what they’d barely started…

  To his surprise, it was Buck who walked down the hallway. Buck wasn’t exactly known to be an early riser.

  Buck, though, wasn’t entirely surprised to find Ty standing there in the early dawn light, knowing there had been aftereffects to what had happened in Qatar and having found Ty standing, too often alone in the wee hours, staring out into the fading darkness.

  “Rough night?” he asked.

  It had been, Ty thought, until Niki, remembering her fingers as they brushed across him, touched him… His stomach tightened at the memory.

  Suddenly he wondered why she’d been awake and alone at such an hour. Did she have nightmares, too? From whoever had left those scars? Were there more he hadn’t seen?

  “It’s nothing,” Ty said. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

  Buck nodded, accepting the fiction as he always did. At least he’d never said anything to Ty about it.

  Ty shook his head in amazement as he let the door of his room close behind him. He walked toward the bathroom, letting the pajama bottoms drop and kicking them away.

  He could still smell Niki; the scent of her was on his skin, his hands, his fingers. A part of him didn’t want to wash it off. Leaning his head against the cool tile of the shower stall, he let the water pour over him. The attraction had always been there, simmering in the background.

  The reality had been incredible.

  It was still hard to believe. They had made out in the kitchen like two randy teenagers, passion erupting, hers a match to his. His body tightened as he remembered her soft cries and moans. He hadn’t reacted to a woman like that since he’d been that teenager.

  There was only one problem, if you could call it a problem. He was a one-woman man and always had been. And the woman he wanted was Nike Tallent. One of his agents. There were a thousand good, valid reasons why he shouldn’t get involved, and he knew them all.

  It didn’t matter.

  He knew next to nothing about her. Like who had left those scars on her. Nor would there be much opportunity to get the answers with so much happening right now.

  One thing was certain, he wasn’t letting her go. Somehow he’d find a way to make it work.

  He couldn’t resolve it now, but he relived every moment, every touch, as he showered and shaved, his body tightening.

  Hearing the footsteps coming down the hallway, Nike slipped the
concealing sunglasses out of her pocket and over her eyes once again. Never was she as grateful for them as now, as she swallowed tears. Dreams shouldn’t come true if you didn’t know what came next.

  Voices spoke as she searched through the cabinets and refrigerator, putting eggs, hot sauce and the makings for refried beans on the counter. To her surprise all the spices were there, too.

  She sighed. Emotions were difficult things. She wasn’t used to them. It surprised her to find she even had them anymore.

  It had felt so good.

  What had she been thinking, though? Sooner or later she was going to have to tell him who she was, who she’d been…and what had happened to her.

  She glanced back over her shoulder to see Buck walk in, flipping the light switch as he went.

  Light flooded the room and she was doubly grateful she’d put her glasses back on.

  Damn, but didn’t Niki look pretty wearing a dress, Buck thought as he walked into the common area.

  He looked from Niki to the departing Ty thoughtfully, but said nothing, reaching for the coffee pot as he looked at what she was putting together, and sighed with gratitude.

  “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Buck said and surprised a smile out of Nike. “You actually know how to make huevos rancheros?”

  With a small laugh, Nike said, “It’s not that hard. I spent some time in Mexico, Central and South America so I think can, but you’ll have to judge for yourself.”

  She was putting a plate together for him when someone knocked on the door. Quickly, she handed the filled dish to him.

  “Damn,” Buck said, shoveling a quick forkful into his mouth. “It’s probably Jake. I’ll get it.”

  Then the taste hit him. For a moment, Buck was transported.

  “Oh, God, Niki, that’s good.”

  Niki had to laugh at the expression on his face. It was nearly orgasmic.

  “Yep, you do know how to cook,” Buck said, on a groan.

  Still, Niki noted he had his hand on his gun, just in case, as he went to get the door. For that matter, so did she. He came back with Jake in tow.

  “Hey, look what the cat dragged in,” Buck said.

  “Hungry, Jake?” she said, dishing up a plate.

  “Do I smell what I think I smell?” Jake asked avidly. He smiled at her as he took the offered plate.

  “It’s good, Jake, damn good,” Buck said. “Have a seat.”

  Jake took a bite and closed his eyes.

  “This is good cooking, girl, almost as good as my mother makes,” he said, wolfing down another bite. “Damn. That makes you just about perfect.”

  Niki shrugged, pleased he appreciated it. “I had time.”

  In an odd way it was strangely domestic. She’d never cooked for others before, only herself.

  Fresh from the shower, Ty caught the marvelous aroma as he opened the door of the bathroom and the scent flooded the damp air. Apparently Niki had been as good as her word.

  Ordinarily he didn’t eat breakfast, but whatever she’d cooked smelled wonderful. Marvelous in fact. He’d worked up an appetite. Then he remembered how he’d worked up that appetite. It should have come as no surprise to him to find he felt good, too, more at ease than he had in years. Or that he was starving.

  Knowing they would probably spend some time pounding the pavement, he pulled on a white shirt, jeans, and boots, Texas camouflage, before he wandered down the hall to find they had company, as promised.

  Blanchard had e-mailed Ty Jake Aragon’s record. He was a good cop, with a good record, solid and dependable. Ty had been impressed.

  “Good to see you again, Jake,” Ty said.

  What Ty had a little difficulty with was the way Jake was eyeing Niki when Ty had come in.

  Watching Ty Connor cross the room, Jake knew this was a man he could respect. He’d seen that the previous day. The firmness of his handshake, the level even look in the other man’s cool blue eyes only confirmed it. There was a core of strength to Ty Connor, a contained coolness and a competence that Jake could only respect.

  Ty walked over to see what Niki was cooking as both Buck and Jake’s plates had been polished absolutely clean. That was a good sign.

  To his disappointment the sunglasses were back on as she glanced at him. Then she smiled. And he found it didn’t matter.

  It was a small smile, but it was still a smile. That was progress. It was also warm and brilliant, for him and him alone. Smiling was something she was doing more and more of late, he noticed. It was like watching a flower blossom or a marble statue come to life. Not winged Nike, but Pygmalion’s Galatea, the marble statue come to life for love.

  Nike’s breath caught a little at the sight of him. There was something incredibly sexy about a man in a simple white button-down shirt and a pair of jeans, especially this man. A flush of warmth went through her.

  The awkwardness she’d feared wasn’t there.

  “Are you hungry? There’s plenty,” she offered.

  For a moment, looking up into his face she was caught in the memory of the kiss and more that they’d shared. Something in his eyes told her that he was thinking about it, too. It seemed to shimmer between them.

  Ty fought the desire, the need, to kiss her again, to drive his fingers into her thick mahogany hair and crush her mouth beneath his. To declare her his. It was primal. He saw her mouth go soft, her lips part as she looked up into his eyes.

  A chorus of voices rang out from the hall as the rest of the team caught the smell of cooking food.

  With an effort, Ty reined himself in.

  “Yes,” he said, “it smells wonderful.”

  Her smile brightened. “I have it on good authority - from Buck - that it’s good.”

  “If there’s one thing you can trust Buck to know something about, it’s food.” Ty said with a smile, taking the offered plate.

  “Niki can cook,” Andy said, as he sat down with his own plate. “Who knew?’

  They passed the newspaper around, debated the headlines – some nut case had shot up a laboratory doing stem cell research, killing a doctor and a staffer - and sports, of course - the baseball season was drawing to a close and the pennant choices were starting to shape up. There was outrage and disgust on the one hand, good-natured joshing on the other.

  The food was good. It was the first home-cooked meal Ty could remember eating since a visit to his sister at Thanksgiving last year. Or had that been two years ago? He couldn’t remember, although he would bet his sister could, he thought with a small smile. Maybe he’d visit her when this was over.

  Brad gave Niki a quick glance. “You getting domestic on us, Nik?”

  Shaking her head, Niki just gave him a look right back. “Good God, no. Do I look like the domestic type?”

  Brad eyed her appreciatively in the dress. “Well, now that you mention it....”

  Then she turned to carry the coffeepot back to the stove, glancing back over her shoulder at him with a lifted eyebrow. His eyes went to the tattoos.

  “Uh, yeah, right…”

  “Uh huh,” she said, wryly, lifting an eyebrow.

  “So,” Jake said, sitting back in his chair, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

  Jake hadn’t missed the little interaction at the stove between Ty Connor and pretty Niki. Something was going on there. It was all good, though, he thought, eyeing her. Ty was also maybe twelve, fifteen years older than she was. Maybe she could kick his ass, and so could Ty if he caught him poaching, but it would be fun trying, and she needed to smile more.

  Or so Jake thought.

  “Right now it’s all theory and conjecture,” Ty said. “We need to see what the word on the street is. We need more confirmation on what the cartels are up to than what a street rat has to say and we need a line on Daniel Garcia, to verify that he is, indeed, here…”

  He glanced at Niki.

  Those long-lashed eyes met his, and warmth rushed through him as he remembered the morning.

&nbs
p; “I’ve got that. Garcia likes his toys and he likes to be prepared, just in case Plan A doesn’t work,” Niki said. “He’s a real Boy Scout. He won’t have been able to bring the gun he used in Colombia with him. He probably dropped it in a lake somewhere anyway, so it can’t be traced back to him. He’ll be looking for another one, probably custom, in case he can’t reach his target any other way, so he’ll be looking for a weapons dealer. Not the legitimate kind where they keep records… I got a contact yesterday, if you remember. Jackson Cooper. But first, we need to get that records search started.”

  Jake Aragon nodded. “We’ve got it set up. They’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Meanwhile,” Ty said, “I need to update the A.G. with what we’ve learned so far and determine our strategy.”

  “Already done,” Jake said. “That’s why I’m here.”

  It took everything Anita had to keep her expression solemn as she delivered the file to Byron’s office, but she managed it. She even managed to keep the same solemn expression when she handed it to him, looked him in the eye and walked out.

  Anita knew the value of silence.

  He didn’t see her little happy dance when she reached her workspace.

  It was far better than her cubicle in the NSA.

  She looked across at the gym to where Beta team was working out. It was a testosterone festival, a jubilee of hard-muscled men. She licked her lips, sighed with satisfaction. All hers.

  Anita had read enough of the file to smile and to know Byron needed to see it.

  Nike Tallent was a ghost. She didn’t exist…

  Anita smiled, eying the men across the way.

  Once Ty Connor knew the truth about his precious Nike…

  Anita smiled widely.

  Byron sat at his desk, looking at the thick file in front of him. Leaning forward, he opened it and began to read.

  An hour later, he stood and walked slowly to the windows. He looked out into the darkness. His stomach churned.