“We have to get out of here.”
Her hand shook as she took his hand, and he led the way across the yard. When he reached a manhole cover, she pulled him up short.
“Down there?” she asked.
He nodded impatiently. “This way they won’t find us.”
“What about the others?” she asked. “Are they here?”
“Yes,” Duncan said. “But I don’t want them caught up in this mess, either. I’ve already told them to leave.”
“Shit,” she said. Then she sighed and slowly descended the darkness into safety.
Chapter 14
Destiny and Hannah stumbled to their feet as Zack, Sam, and Blake arrived at Zack’s house in one of the black Soldiering On cars. The trio came in the front door, and stumbled to a halt as they found the two of them hovering in the middle of the living room with Radha, Cameron, and Sierra.
“Tulane escaped and Duncan and Mandy are nowhere to be found,” Blake told them as he collapsed into the nearest armchair. Sierra immediately went to him and stroked a soothing hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, his face looking peaceful.
“What?” Destiny asked.
Zack sighed as he put an arm around Radha and tugged her close. “We think they went back into the sewers. By the time we figured out they weren’t coming to the meeting spot and went looking for them, the car was gone. Presumably, they’ve gone back to the safe house.”
Sam shuffled closer to Cameron but made no effort to touch him. Cameron reached out to tangle their fingers together, half-hidden by their bodies.
Destiny cleared her throat and glanced at Hannah, then looked away. All the couples, the soft affection, made her ache with a steady kind of loneliness. She wanted that. Missed that.
“Why?” she asked them, remembering the question. “Why wouldn’t they come back here?”
Blake shrugged. “Maybe Duncan got caught and didn’t want to lead the police back here. Keep us out of it.”
“Did he say anything? Before he disappeared?”
Zack frowned. “He said we should look into a woman in her fifties that was there. White, well-dressed. We’ll have to tell Paul.”
“And to keep a look out for Tulane,” Sam interrupted.
Destiny raised her brows. “I heard he escaped. What happened?”
Sam shrugged. “One car left when Duncan was inside. We presume Tulane was in it, but we couldn’t stop it.”
Destiny winced. “Well, I’ve been updated by my partner Gracie. She said there were a few dead bodies and three arrests at the warehouse—none of which were Tulane or an older lady.”
Blake leaned forward. “Are they looking for Duncan?”
Destiny shook her head. “Not that Gracie knows of, but it was chaos there. They’re still trying to put all the pieces together.”
Zack nodded. “So it’s best he and Mandy stay hidden while we look into this woman and find Tulane.”
“Tulane will still be looking for him, too,” Sam reminded them. “So he’s got it coming from both sides.”
Hannah shifted, drawing attention to her. “The arrest warrant for Gregory Fairfax is still valid, so if you find him, call in a tip—and make sure you let both me and Destiny know. That way we can make sure there are no issues with getting him arrested.”
“You still think he has people on the inside?” Blake asked.
Hannah nodded. “I’d be surprised if he didn’t. He seems to have gotten away with a lot of awful stuff for a very long time. Someone’s covering for him. It would be nice if we knew who.”
Sam huffed out a breath. “Maybe that’s something else Paul can work on. Get us an in-depth look at this guy’s life.”
Blake straightened his shoulders. “Right. Destiny, you keep us informed with what the police discover. We want to know about Tulane’s whereabouts the instant they find him—if they do. We’ll keep investigating him, and this woman, while we wait for Duncan and Mandy to get out of hiding.”
Destiny grinned. “Look at you, taking charge. Responsibility looks good on you.”
Blake sent her a charming grin, but it wasn’t quite as solid as usual. “I hope no one minds. I figure without Duncan and Mandy…”
Sam grinned. “I much prefer taking orders than giving them. The job’s all yours. It makes you seem really grown up.”
Zack nodded his agreement, too, and Sierra leaned down to kiss Blake’s cheek with a proud smile.
“Right,” he said, determination etched onto his face. “In that case, let’s get to work.”
Mandy insisted on driving them back to the safe house.
Some part of him rebelled, wanting to get Mandy to safety himself, but she’d told him she needed the control of her life back, and driving was the perfect mindless task to stop her thinking about what had just almost happened. So, Duncan had agreed. He trusted she could handle it.
Besides, his adrenaline from the fight had crashed out of him after the trek through the sewers. Weariness dragged at his mind, not helped by his lack of sleep the night before. He worried for his wounds, not daring to tell Mandy how much they hurt, and just hoping they weren’t as bad as he feared.
He must have drifted off on the ride home—a quick combat nap. He woke only once, on an unfamiliar street.
“No hospitals,” he managed, before drifting off again. He hoped she listened.
The next time he woke they were rolling to a stop outside the safe house garage. The engine shut off, and Mandy let out a displeased sigh. Duncan almost smiled. Instead, he opened the door and rolled himself out of the passenger seat.
The nap in the car had revived him, which was a relief. The cold night air did the rest of the job, waking him up like a slap to the face.
He punched in the code at the keypad, and Mandy hovered close as they waited for the door to roll up.
When it was halfway, Mandy got back in the driver’s seat and inched the car forward into the garage. Duncan closed the door using the button inside, then made his way to the second keypad as Mandy got out the car. She still eyed him carefully.
“I’m fine,” he protested.
She rolled her eyes. “We need to get you checked out.”
Duncan nearly made a teasing remark, but snapped his mouth shut in time. Her concern for him warmed his heart.
In the living room, Duncan turned to her, looking down into her worried, whiskey-coloured eyes.
“I’m okay,” he reassured her.
“I’ll believe that when I see it.” She reached for the hem of his t-shirt. Duncan’s stomach muscles jumped in anticipation at the movement, but she barely touched him as she slowly pushed the t-shirt up. Until it stuck and he winced as she tugged, sharp pain lancing through him.
“Shit, the blood has caked on, sticking your shirt to your wounds.”
“Just rip it off,” said Duncan through clenched teeth.
She gave him an exasperated look. “That’ll just make things worse. If we get you into the shower, wet it, it should be easier to peel off.”
Duncan sighed. Her logic made sense.
She bundled him into the bathroom and left him standing in the centre of the room while she turned on the shower taps. He shuffled back and leaned against the wall, conserving energy, as he watched her efficient movements. He barely caught the slight shake of her hand. She, too, must be coming down from the adrenaline rush of the fight, but she didn’t complain. She just looked after him.
His heart tumbled. She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the violence forced on her by this career.
And despite how determined she was to look after him now, he knew she deserved better than him, too. Her father had made that clear twice now.
But nothing he’d done in the two years they’d known each other had pushed her away. He was well aware she hadn’t exactly been pining for him, but she’d never quite given up on him, either. She’d always hoped—believed—he was a better man than he really was.
She didn’t seem to grasp that he was a beat up o
ld soldier. But she would. One day. Even if he allowed their chemistry to combust, to begin a relationship with her, one day she’d see he wasn’t the man she’d thought. That he was no good for her.
And by then it would be too late for him. His heart would never let her go.
Still might not, if he was honest.
“Shower’s ready,” she informed him, turning with an expectant look.
He sighed and pushed off the wall, totally at her mercy. Steam rose from the shower cubicle, gushing out as he slid open the door. He hissed as he stepped under the warm spray when the water pounded against his wounds.
“Too hot?” Mandy asked.
He turned to her to deny it, only to find her closer than he expected. She’d crowded into the stall behind him.
“Mandy?” he choked out.
“Figured you might need some help.” Her expression was pure innocence, but he sensed something else behind those wide, guileless eyes.
She placed her hands on either side of his waist and gently turned him so the shower spray hit every inch of him. Between the heat of the steam, his blood loss, and her touching him, he was beginning to feel lightheaded again.
When he was back to facing her, Duncan tried desperately not to notice how wet she was—how her clothes plastered to her body, molding to every curve. His mouth went dry.
Evidently satisfied with the distribution of water over his t-shirt, Mandy again reached for his hem. The remaining blood in his head drained instantly, pooling in his groin.
“Mandy…” he said warningly, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her cheeks were flushed, but he couldn’t tell whether it was from the hot shower or the same desire pumping through his veins.
She slowly, achingly slowly, pushed his t-shirt up, her hands running lightly over his sides as she did so. Carefully, she peeled the fabric off his wounds one by one, checking them as she went. He hardly noticed, too distracted by her hands on him, their heavy breaths mingling.
When she had the shirt up under his armpits he raised his arms. She stepped even closer, pressing herself against him. She stood on tip toes as she raised the t-shirt off his arms, sliding against his chest as she did so until they were almost face-to-face. Their gazes locked. One inch closer and they’d be kissing.
She discarded the t-shirt with a plop. Her eyes drifted down his chest, searching out the cuts.
“They don’t look as bad as I feared,” she whispered, her breath brushing against him. Their gazes meeting yet again. Neither looked away.
They didn’t hurt, either, but he didn’t know whether that was because they were flesh wounds, or because he was so distracted by Mandy pressing against him. She didn’t step away. Instead, she eased forward, brushing her lips against his. He fell back against the cool tiles behind him and kissed her back, hot and wet as their tongues tangled.
Duncan lowered his arms and gripped her hips, pulling her against his lengthening erection. She moaned into his mouth and he swallowed the sound.
She nibbled on his bottom lip and Duncan’s hips thrust automatically in response. He needed more of her.
He ran his hands up her side, taking her t-shirt with him. He broke the kiss long enough to pull it over her head and discard it along with his own. This left her in a lacy black bra, her breasts spilling out the top. He groaned, palming them and she made a needy sound that caused his blood to race hotter.
All the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this—the ones he’d so painstakingly listed to himself just minutes before—flew out of his head as Mandy locked one leg around him and ground herself against his erection.
He spun her around and pressed her back against the wall, bracing himself above her with one arm. They gasped together, water dripping over and between them in a sensual slide. Duncan reclaimed her mouth, licking the water from her lips before slipping his tongue between them. He unhooked her bra, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze. Her nipples peaked, begging for his touch, and he obliged, massaging one breast and rubbing his palm over her nipple for friction.
Her hands went to his belt and undid it with a snap. He stilled in anticipation as she unbuttoned his pants and slid her hand inside. Their gazes held until she wrapped her hand around him and his eyes rolled back into his head with pleasure.
She crouched to work his pants down, struggling with the wet fabric. That put her mouth right in prime position. He couldn’t fail to notice.
His erection swelled, and Mandy’s gaze locked onto his insistent cock. She wrapped her hand around him again and worked him. Duncan couldn’t tear his gaze away, even as the sparks of pleasure made him want to close his eyes to focus on the sensations.
She gripped the base of his cock and he fisted his hand on the cold tile, trying to keep himself under some semblance of control. Slowly, she eased him between her lips. Duncan groaned. She stilled, then began to work him, sliding her lips up and down his shaft while twisting her hand at the base of his cock.
He almost came then and there, but he gritted his teeth and desperately dissembled and reassembled an A17 Rifle in his head to keep from blowing his load too early. He wanted this to last.
Duncan fisted his hand in her hair, slowing her movements. She moaned in protest, and the vibrations ran through his cock. His hand tightened in her hair.
He wanted to touch her, pleasure her, so this wouldn’t all be about him—so she’d get something out of it. But he couldn’t reach where he wanted to put his hands.
“Come here,” he ground out.
She stilled, but didn’t release his cock.
“I want to touch you,” he explained.
She slowly slid her mouth off his erection, then gave it a reluctant kiss goodbye. He shuddered at the tender gesture and his heart tumbled all over again.
She gripped his hips and levered herself to her feet. The instant she was within reach he yanked the zipper on her skirt down and stripped her naked. Water slid over her bare skin, and he followed its path with his gaze until he was distracted by the newly-revealed area at the junction of her thighs.
He slid the back of one finger over her bare skin, a possessive heat ripping through him.
He was no good for her, but his willpower had completely corroded. Later, he could worry about the consequences, and repair the hole he was no doubt digging in his soul. But right now, not even nuclear destruction could stop him from making love to this woman at this very moment.
Clearly, she had a similar idea, because she gripped his shoulders and pulled him towards her. He complied willingly, his palm sliding over her thigh to hitch her leg around his waist.
Their eyes met. Now, they were pressed together, chest to chest, without anything between them. No barriers.
He lifted her, and her other leg came around him and her ankles locked together. She was so light in his arms. Not delicate, exactly, but still in contrast with his own muscled frame.
Mandy leaned back against the tiled wall and reached between them. He exhaled as she gripped his cock and guided it to her entrance. He stilled for just a moment, bracing himself. The blood rushed in his ears and pounded through his veins, urging him to claim her. But he wrestled the beast into submission and eased into her slowly.
She was hot and slick. He slid in to the hilt and paused, revelling in how good it felt. How perfectly they fit.
“You feel so good,” she told him, her fingers digging into the muscles on his shoulders.
The blissful expression on her face caused the base of his spine to tighten, his cock desperate for release. Instead, he pulled out and slowly pushed back in. Her head lolled back, and she watched him with hooded eyes as he thrust with careful control, building a rhythm.
She rocked her hips in time to his movements. Breathy pants escaped from between her lips, and Duncan’s arms shook. Not because she was heavy, but because he battled so desperately for restraint. He wanted to let loose and pound into her, but Mandy deserved better than some rough manhandling.
Apparently she disag
reed.
“Harder,” she ordered.
Duncan smiled and kissed her firmly, then obeyed. His fingers dug into her ass cheeks as he held her still. Then, he flexed his hips and thrust harder, deeper. She pressed back against the wall with a moan that echoed through the bathroom.
He did it again, and she twisted in pleasure. Again and again he pounded into her until she writhed in pleasure and he struggled to keep her upright. His leg ached from the extra weight, but he barely noticed. Instead, all he could feel was her—his cock inside her wet heat, the scrape of her nipples against his chest, the exhales of her breath against his shoulder.
And then she came with a loud cry and Duncan’s control finally snapped. He slammed into her, riding her through her orgasm. He thrust a final time and came hard, spilling his seed into her.
He collapsed over her, breath heaving. Their racing heartbeats mingled.
As he softened, he slipped out of her. Reason slowly returned. Holy shit, they’d just had sex. Worse, without a condom.
He lifted her off him and set her on her feet, taking a step back.
Once Mandy had her breathing back under control, she titled her head up to grin at him.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she said with a laugh.
He couldn’t either. “No condom,” he said, focusing on the practicalities. In his post-coital haze he couldn’t bring himself to think about all the other ways this had been a terrible mistake.
She tapped her arm. “No worries, I have an implant.”
He nodded. Then, not sure what else to do, he stepped away from her. Pain shot up through his leg, telling him again how broken he was. The small cut at Mandy’s forehead stood out in stark relief, reminding him of how he’d endangered her.
All those reasons he’d forgotten about why this—they—were a terrible idea overwhelmed him, and Duncan pulled back.
He’d made a mistake. Again.
Chapter 15
By the time Mandy got Duncan out of the shower, dried, dressed and on the bed, an awkwardness had built between them. He watched her carefully, his eyes locked on her face as he lay back in clean boxers.
Whiskey-Eyed Woman (Soldiering On Book 5) Page 11
