He shrugged. “Because it’s a major turn-on for me. Maybe I’ll have you run around naked all the time.”
“I’m for equality,” she said, working the buttons of his shirt. “And I want these clothes off you.”
When she got to the bottom, they both sat up and she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, but he wore a sleeveless T-shirt underneath. Too many damn shirts. She moved her hands underneath, over his solid abs, up to his shoulders, and pulled it off.
“Much better. Don’t you think?”
“You’re in charge right now.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I like that idea. Now the pants.”
“I got it.” He rolled off the bed, pulled his gun from the holster and stuck it in her nightstand. She’d have to get used to the weapon’s constant presence. Even when she couldn’t see it, she knew he had it on him. The pants and briefs went next. A boxer briefs guy. She’d never noticed before.
The sight of him naked, the long, lean muscles, caused her nerves to bubble again. She’d known him over ten years and had barely seen him with his shirt off. Now he was naked in her bed.
And what a sight. He spent hours in the gym, and the proof of it stood in front of her. His body was part of his job and, as she’d heard him say, required maintenance. A faded round scar—probably a bullet hole—sat on his right shoulder, and she ran her fingers over it. Vic came off as an easygoing guy, but underneath lived a disciplined and dangerous machine.
Gina snuggled closer to him, reached up and pulled his head toward her. She kissed him hard, only wanting to feel the colliding tongues and clashing lips. She wanted him in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time and took strength in it. One of the insulating layers, the excess weight confining her, had come off, leaving her exhilarated and vulnerable at the same time.
Rolling on top of her, Vic trailed kisses down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts—oh God—she melted into the bed as his hands and mouth worked across her body. It had been too long since she’d felt this pleasure, and she fought the urge to hurry it along.
“You’re making me nuts. I can’t stand it.”
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
His erection pressed against her thigh, and her throat clogged. This time was different than the times before. The awareness of his touch was more important than rushing. She’d dreamed of him like this. How did she get this lucky?
“I’m flat-out crazy about you,” she said, smothering his face with kisses. “You make me feel like a beautiful, desirable woman and, after three kids, that’s a gift. I think about you day and night. I dream about having you inside me.”
Did she really say all that to him? Maybe she needed to learn some restraint in the honesty department before he ran screaming from the house. This was a man with commitment issues, and she’d just poured her heart out.
“I love that,” he said, kissing her nose.
“I’m sorry, I can’t wait.” She locked her legs around him as he slid into her. Oh yes.
He smiled at her and rolled his eyes up, and she laughed. She knew they’d both get as good as they gave. Everything in her somehow came free with him. All the issues went away.
They moved together as if they’d done this a thousand times and knew the nuances of each other’s bodies. The squeezing in her lower belly began. She knew what was coming, that colossal shattering she’d learned to live without. For so long her body had held her captive until this pleasure seemed foreign to her, and now she had it again. Every nerve ending tingled and, when she opened her eyes, she found Vic watching her. Smiling a big toothy grin. Mr. Smug.
She laughed. “I should slap you.”
“Kinky.” He groaned when she tightened herself around him.
She could play smug too.
“Keep that up and this is going to be over quick,” he said.
She slammed her eyes closed and a light show exploded inside her head. A cry tore free and she relaxed into it, let each wave of relief flow over her until her body refused to move.
Vic began moving again, bringing her back.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said, still working her hips and talking dirty to him. Talking dirty? Oh. My. God.
“Oh boy, that’ll do it.” After a few seconds of her whispering, his body stiffened. He groaned and his breath came hard and fast, until he fell apart on top of her.
“Very nice,” he said into her hair.
With their bodies still joined, he rolled to his side and hugged her close.
A sudden panic gurgled in her throat, and she swallowed it back. Forced it away before it took hold of her. Forget the fear and the risk. Forget about not getting emotionally involved. It’s too late anyway. Just enjoy. Enjoy the time you have.
“You’re too much.” She kissed his chest and ran her hands down his belly. “I’ll never survive you.”
“Yeah, you will. I’ll make sure.”
“Well, if I don’t, we’d better make it worthwhile.”
Chapter Thirteen
Man Law: Always get out fast.
Vic rolled over, reached out a hand. No Gina. He opened his eyes, squinted against the morning sun squeezing through the edge of the window blinds. He checked the clock. Oh-eight-thirty. They’d only slept a few hours and he wanted more.
The smell of bacon frying smothered his senses and he grinned.
“Breakfast.”
When the heck had a woman last cooked him breakfast? Usually he was up and out fast. He didn’t have the need to rush out today. He wouldn’t mind going back to sleep, but he wanted to get his ass to the kitchen and see what Gina had waiting for him. Maybe she’d be naked. Not likely with Dutch on the morning security shift. But a man could dream.
He rolled out of bed and slipped into his pants and T-shirt, bemoaning the lack of clean clothes. He didn’t want Gina embarrassed when the guys saw him leaving in last night’s clothes. Some women were funny about stuff like that. They didn’t want anyone knowing they’d done the deed. His aunt called it the walk of shame.
When he strolled into the kitchen he found Gina at the stove wearing the fluffy cotton bathrobe and about as far from naked as she could get. Her hair curled wildly around her shoulders and he remembered rifling his hands through it just a few hours ago.
“Morning,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
She set the spatula down beside the pan of scrambled eggs, grabbed him by the shirt and hit him with a lip-lock. Now, this was living.
“Hey, handsome,” she said when she was done mauling him. “Coffee is just about done.”
He moved to the side. “I could say you shouldn’t have made me breakfast, but really, it smells great and I’m damn glad.”
She laughed. “I love a big breakfast on Saturday mornings. The kids have gotten used to it.”
She put her hands on his waist and scooted him sideways. “Have a seat. You’re in the way.”
“Can I help?”
“Nope.”
A knock sounded on the back door and Gina opened it just as Vic hit the chair.
“Hey, Monk,” she said. “Come on in.”
Monk wore his usual outfit of cargo pants and a black T-shirt, his dark hair hidden under a bandanna. He spotted Vic in his undershirt and raised his eyebrows, but Vic didn’t imagine his renegade friend ever suffered embarrassment.
“Sorry to interrupt. Smells good in here.”
Gina shoved a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Vic and went back to the stove humming a song he couldn’t place.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Monk said to her.
She shot him a wide grin. “A night of good lovin’ will do that do a girl.”
“Ho,” he said, high-fiving her, and they both burst out laughing.
Holy shit.
“Gina, what the hell?” Vic said, his mouth full of eggs. So much for her being embarrassed about the walk of shame. “Why not call Rox and take out an ad in the Banner?”
She smacked Monk on the arm. “Have a seat. There’s plenty of food.”
Muttering over his food about women making him crazy, Vic gawked at Monk settling in at the table. “Why are you here?”
“I tried your cell, but it was off. We’ll talk about that later. A couple of guys were tailing you last night. Maybe you could have kept your phone on so we’d know you weren’t dead?”
Oh, please. Monk hurtling headfirst into mommy mode. Kill me now.
Vic dropped his fork and it clanged against the table. “Back off, Mommy. The guys knew exactly where I was. They could have rung the damn doorbell.”
“Coffee?” Gina held the pot up.
“Thank you, darlin’.” Vic pushed his mug forward and earned himself a nasty glare. Some women didn’t like being called darlin’ and, apparently, Gina was one of them. Note to self: never call Gina darlin’ again. He didn’t mean anything by it. It came from his Southern upbringing. He was sure he’d called her that before.
“Sorry,” he said.
She smiled. “You’re forgiven.”
She sat down next to him with her own plate of food.
“What’s up?” Vic asked Monk. “You have something for me?”
Monk, in the process of inhaling his food, stopped, wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s the plate number on the Chevy and the address of the house. The car is registered to Gerard Conlin. He’s an American citizen, grew up in Idaho. The house is owned by some real estate investment company. Janet’s running it down. Seems fishy to me.”
After reading the piece of paper, Vic handed it to Gina. “Uh-huh. I’ll get the name of the company from Janet and have Lynx check it all out. Maybe Conlin is on the radar.”
Nothing sickened him more than an American citizen working for a terrorist.
Vic slid a gander at Gina, who busied herself eating breakfast. “What else?”
“Not much. We got a guy on Conlin and if he goes anywhere we’ll see what’s what. You want us to talk to him?”
Talk to him? No. Vic definitely didn’t want to talk to him. He’d like to beat him within an inch of his life, but he didn’t want to talk to him. “Nah. Let’s do a sneak and peek on the place. See if we can find anything.”
That got Gina’s attention and she gave him a hard stare. Was she going to get all high and mighty on him? He shrugged. “We’re not going to steal anything. I want to check him out. He may lead us to Sirhan and we can put all this bullshit behind us. Don’t you want your life back?”
She lurched up, took her plate to the sink and scraped it clean. “Not at the risk of one of you going to jail.”
Monk’s eyes moved from Gina back to Vic.
“We only go to jail if we get caught. We generally don’t get caught.”
Sarcasm had probably not been his best choice, because she whirled on him. “This is funny to you?”
Monk threw his napkin on the table. “I gotta go.”
“Chicken,” Vic hollered as he flew out the door. He turned to Gina, let out a breath. “It is not funny. It is part of what I do, though. I’ve played outside the lines a long time. I’m not sure I know any other way.”
Never had he made a truer statement. He played dirty most of the time. Justifying it became part of getting to the greater good. She would have to adjust. Certain things he couldn’t change.
She picked up the empty plate in front of him, took it to the sink. “From now on, I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want the danger in my face.”
With deliberate and jerky movements, she smacked the faucet on. She was pissed. And he knew it had more to do with Danny than him.
He got up, went to where she stood and shut the faucet. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I won’t talk about it in front of you anymore.”
She leaned into him, rested her head on his chest. “I don’t want to spend my days worrying. I just can’t do it.”
Oh boy. They were right back where they started. He had a dangerous job and she couldn’t be with a guy with a dangerous job.
The phone rang. Saved by the bell. Gina stepped back and reached for the cordless.
“It’s Roxann.”
She spent a couple of minutes on the phone then came back to him. “She’s taking Lily for a pedicure. How does that happen? Do you know the last time I had a pedicure?”
Vic held up his hands and she said, “It’s been a long time. You don’t even want to see my feet.”
No lie there. The body parts he had interest in had nothing to do with feet. He reached over and tugged on the belt of her robe.
“I’m not really a foot guy, anyway.”
She arched an eyebrow, while his hands roamed inside her robe. “I can see that.”
“What do you want to do today?” He leaned down, kissed her neck.
When her arms came around him, he licked behind her ear, and she groaned. “I want to screw your brains out, and then I want to drive up to the lake and see my family.”
“Since you shouldn’t go alone, I’ll have to go with you.” He trailed kisses down her neck. “Is that a problem?”
“Not if you keep kissing my neck like that.”
He stepped back, grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the stairs. “Then let’s get ourselves laid. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”
Chapter Fourteen
Man Law: Never mess with a guy’s grill.
“Monk told me you were tailed last night,” Mike said, throwing Vic a towel after an intense game of Marco Polo with Jake.
The patio scorched Vic’s feet and he slid into his flip-flops.
Matt lounged on one of the cushioned chairs, playing with his PSP. Gina sat next to him, soaking up the sun in a red bikini, and Vic smiled to himself. He now knew exactly what was under that bikini.
“Monk’s got a big mouth,” Vic said, toweling off.
“At least he told me about it, which is more than you did.”
Mike in a pissy mood. Lucky me. “Nag, nag, nag. Get over it, Mary, or I’m divorcing you.”
“Nice.” Mike laughed. “I need a beer. Be right back.”
Vic took in the beauty of Lake Geneva. The second deepest lake in Wisconsin, one hundred and thirty-five feet deep and twenty-one miles around. Lush green trees dotted the lakefront, but not enough to obscure the views from the houses. And these were some houses. Big money here. Vic didn’t usually go for the upscale stuff, but he loved this view. Something about the place let him forget about life and kick back.
The late-afternoon sun bounced off the water as speed boats and sail boats cruised by. Big fluffy clouds offered intermittent relief from the heat. Just a damn good day.
Mikey had done well for himself with this lakefront property. He’d bought it a few years earlier, leveled the existing structure and rebuilt to his specifications. Vic had made himself at home here many times, and Mike never seemed to mind. Even after Mike and Roxann got hitched, they’d always encouraged Vic to use the house when he wanted.
Vic thought about buying a place of his own up here, but that went away quick. Too permanent.
Mike handed him a beer and sat down at the patio table. “Janet get back to you on that address?”
“Yeah. The real estate company that owns the house is part of a shell company. She’s running it down. My guess is our friend Sirhan owns it.”
“Probably a good guess.”
Vic draped the towel over his chair, sat and clinked his beer bottle against Mike’s. They both took a slug.
Mike propped his sandaled feet on the table. “I got a call from the owner of the property that backs up to the farm.”
What was this now? Vic and the guys had been out there late Thursday firing of
f rounds, but hell, that neighboring property was almost a thousand acres. The guy couldn’t have heard anything.
“And?” Vic asked.
“He wants to sell it.”
Vic’s heart may have gone pitter-patter. He wasn’t sure. “Don’t tease me, Mikey.”
“I’m not.”
Vic leaned forward. Last year he had the idea of opening a training center where guys could brush up their special ops skills, but the farm didn’t have enough acreage for what he had in mind, so he’d given up on it.
Being Mr. Proactive, Mike had approached the owner of the neighboring property and told the guy to call him if he ever wanted to sell.
“What does he want for it?” he asked, his mind going to the hefty fees they could charge.
“A lot, but I wasn’t going to negotiate until I talked to you. Do you still want it?”
“Shit, yeah.”
Mike tilted his head. “Easy, my friend. Think about this. I’ll front the cash, but I’m not running this monster. I got enough headaches. It’s your baby.”
“What’s my end?” He and Mike were great buddies, but business was business and money was money.
Mike shrugged. “Half.”
Vic’s eyes nearly popped from his head. Holy shit. “You’re giving me fifty percent?”
“I’m not giving you jack. You’ll earn every percentage point. All I’m going to do is sign the check. You will oversee construction, you will hire the staff and you will put up with the complaints. I want no part of it except to watch the cash roll in. It’ll be a lot of work.” Mike looked at him hard. “You get what I’m saying?”
Yeah. He got it. He clenched his teeth, tightened his forearms and released them. Let the frustration settle into his bones.
“You’ll have to come off the road, Vic. This training center will be one hundred percent of your time. No more playing cowboy. Can you live with that?”
Matt’s voice drew Vic’s attention and Gina sat up, her dark hair glistening from her swim. She laughed at something Matt said and the sound of it floated in the air. They were getting along again.
Gina and the kids.
Could he give up his lifestyle to make room for them?
Man Law Page 12
