HOT Angel

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Brooke started to fire off an apology, but the thought bubble appeared and she stopped typing.

  Cade: Think I need a cold shower now.

  I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent that.

  Cade: The hell you shouldn’t. I’m going to stare at this pic for the rest of the night. Might even make it my wallpaper.

  You wouldn’t. She frowned. She didn’t really know that. He might. For all she knew, he was capable of anything.

  Cade: No, I won’t. But I’m putting this pic in favorites. Unless you want me to delete it.

  Brooke blinked. You would do that?

  Yeah, I would. It’s private, and maybe you’d feel better if I committed your smoking-hot body to memory and did away with the evidence.

  Oh wow, she liked this guy. It was sweet of him to ask. Her inner voice chastised her. You don’t know him, girlfriend. He could just be a smooth player and have no intentions of deleting. Should have thought of that before you sent it.

  “I did think of it,” she muttered. Which was why her face wasn’t anywhere in the photo.

  She typed out a reply. I appreciate you asking, but no, you keep it. My face isn’t in it anyway. If you’re the type to load it to your Instagram, nobody will know it’s me.

  Cade: Don’t have Instagram. Or Facebook. Or any of them.

  Brooke’s jaw dropped a little. No social media at all?

  Nope. Not good in my line of work.

  She hadn’t thought of it, but of course it was true. Come to think of it, Garrett’s Facebook page was pretty sparse. The last time he’d posted was about six months ago. So, yeah, some people weren’t always glued to their phones or tablets.

  I guess not, she typed. But I have all those, so don’t send me a pic you don’t want plastered all over the internet. She added a laughing emoji and pressed Send.

  Then I’ll be sure not to send you my [eggplant emoji], he responded.

  Brooke laughed. She almost felt normal for a few minutes, texting a hot guy in the middle of the night, exchanging cute little pictures and flirting.

  I definitely won’t send you my [cat emoji], she wrote. That would be inappropriate.

  Cade: Careful or I’ll think you’re coming on to me.

  Brooke bit her lip. Would you like that? She pressed Send before she could think too hard about it.

  Cade: I would. A lot. Keep talking to me, angel, and I may have to [eggplant emoji][fist emoji].

  Brooke’s skin flamed. She’d never actually sexted with anyone—it had always seemed a bit silly—but she knew he’d just sent her the emojis for jerking off. Far from offending or disgusting her, it made her tingle. Not so silly after all.

  Would you really? While we’re texting?

  Cade: Not gonna lie that it’s tempting. This pic is hot. He sent five flames at the end of his message.

  I don’t have an equally hot pic of you, she typed. Not fair.

  A few moments later, a photo of a bare abdomen—flat, toned, perfect—that gave way to a pristine white sheet covering his lower half pinged onto her phone.

  “Holy cow,” Brooke said. “Those are some gorgeous abs, Max. And whoa, that is an impressive bulge beneath that sheet.”

  Max didn’t really care, but she had to tell someone. She was tempted to ask for a legit dick pic, but that would be taking things too far.

  And this wasn’t? Texting with a man she barely knew, flirting with him, sending eggplant emojis and photos of her body lying in her bed in pajamas?

  “You aren’t asking for a dick pic, Brooke,” she muttered to herself.

  Cade: That work for you?

  Work? I think I fainted. And then, because she was already too deep into this, she sent several emojis. A cat, a flower, a taco, and water drops. She would have sent a tongue and an eggplant, but that was really going too far. Telling him she was wet was far different from telling him she wanted to lick his cock.

  Cade: You’re killing me, angel. I want… Holy hell, what I want. Not saying it. Not even sending over a bunch of pics of it. Just picture my mouth. My fingers. Your sweet body and all the wonderful parts of it. Yeah, my eggplant is ready. So damned ready.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. And shiver. The emojis were silly but safe. His words? Combustible.

  I think this is crazy.

  He wrote back. So do I. But it’s fun, isn’t it?

  She lay still and felt the zipping of adrenaline and arousal through her veins. Yes. Thank you, Cade. I think I can sleep now.

  Cade: WTF? Sleep? And leave me like this?

  Brooke snorted when he sent over a wide-eyed emoji and the eggplant again. Good night, Cade. I think you’ve got it from here. She added the champagne bottle with the cork popping out and pressed Send.

  Cade: Nite, Brooke. Text me anytime. Especially if you want to discuss kitties and eggplants.

  Brooke plugged her phone in on the dresser and turned out the light. Max was snoring, but she lay there awake and stared at the glow of the lights coming in her window. It was quiet in her condo. Still. And lonely. So damn lonely.

  Not that she’d had a steady relationship in the months before she’d been kidnapped, but she’d been more social. There had been sleepovers sometimes with men she liked. Not often, but enough that she hadn’t felt totally deprived. Her last somewhat serious relationship, when she’d been younger and more naïve, had been over for nearly two years before the kidnapping. Which meant it’d been a long damn time since she’d had sex with any regularity.

  She let her fingers trail down her body, beneath the covers, and over the cotton of her shorts. Her body gave off heat like a furnace. She wrestled with her thoughts for a few moments before slipping her hand beneath her shorts and into her slick heat.

  Brooke groaned. She’d touched herself whenever the need arose, but this was the first time she pictured a man she actually knew. It didn’t take long to rub herself into a shuddering release or to follow it up with a second orgasm.

  But it wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been. She went to sleep still longing for more.

  Chapter 4

  Cade woke at five a.m., blinking into the early-morning gloom, his conversation with Brooke foremost in his mind. What was she doing right now? Sleeping soundly, he hoped.

  He’d jerked himself off after she’d said good night. Of course he had. There was no way after getting that picture of her luscious boobs, shapely thighs—and those bare legs that he wanted to feel wrapped around him—that he wouldn’t bring himself to release. It would have been nice if she’d gone along for the ride, texting him more naughtiness and touching herself too, but he hadn’t really expected it when they’d only just started talking.

  Now he picked up his phone and opened it up to Brooke’s photo. And, damn, he was hard again. He stroked his cock from root to tip, the excitement building until he reached a shuddering release that tingled all the way into his toes.

  Holy hell, if it was that good just looking at her, how good would it be to be in her?

  Cade got dressed in his regulation workout gear, grabbed his duffel, and headed out the door. He’d shower after working out at HOT HQ.

  The mornings were getting chilly now that September had arrived, but it was still warm during the day. He threw his bag into the Toyota Tundra parked in the driveway. It was about twenty miles to work, and he took the back roads because he liked the scenery.

  Five minutes after he pulled into the parking lot at work, he was inside the gym. Echo Squad teammates Sky “Hacker” Kelley, Jake “Harley” Ryan, and Malcolm “Mal” McCoy were there too. The others had either already been or they’d be there soon. He’d hoped to see Garrett Spencer from Alpha Squad so he could pry information about Brooke from him, but nobody from that squad was there.

  “Where’s Alpha?”

  “Lockdown,” Hacker said.

  “That’s right,” Cade replied. “Forgot.”

  Lockdown was what happened right before they deployed on a mission. It’s where they war
-gamed the operation and went over plans. In the excitement with Brooke, Cade had forgotten all about Alpha getting ready to go.

  He worked out hard, pushing himself to do even better, then showered and dressed in uniform before heading to his squad’s section. Every squad within HOT had a section to themselves, though you could visit another squad’s section by walking down the hall and popping in. There was an auditorium where they all met for commander’s call when Mendez or Ghost gave an organizational briefing, and there were smaller conference rooms where each squad could work on a specific mission without interrupting another squad’s planning.

  Echo Squad had just returned from a mission two weeks ago, so they weren’t necessarily on deck to deploy again immediately, though they would if they had to. Right now they had training to do, paperwork to catch up on, and other work to complete before the next mission.

  Cade sat at his desk and pulled up a report. It was nine o’clock, and he wondered if Brooke was awake. He wished he could look at his phone and see if she’d texted again, but personal cell phones weren’t allowed into the secure areas of HOT. Cameras and microphones could be turned on by enemy programs and used to spy on HOT’s business. It was cloak-and-dagger stuff, sure, but it was also a real threat which was why nobody was ever allowed to bring in a personal phone, computer, or tablet. All it took was someone with good hacking skills and boom, they were in and national security was compromised.

  “Hey, what’d you think of that hot little blonde at Ice’s place yesterday?” Hacker asked.

  Cade stiffened. Had he been that obvious? Or was Hacker simply being Hacker, renowned player and connoisseur of women? Cade had never known another computer guy who used his mad IT skills to seduce women the way Hacker did. He impressed them with what he could make a computer do, which Cade would have said wasn’t something they’d be impressed with before he met Hacker.

  Apparently there was something sexy about getting premium access to clubs and events with the touch of a button. Add in the fact the guy was a fully qualified Special Operator, complete with muscles and weaponry, and it seemed you had the recipe for a lady magnet.

  “I think Ice would stomp you into a pile of jelly for looking twice at her. She’s his wife’s best friend.”

  “Yeah, but it might be worth it. That body… Man.”

  “Probably best not to go there, dude,” Cade said. “Remember that Ice’s wife is the president’s daughter. You might find yourself locked in a dungeon or something if you upset her bestie.”

  Cade highly doubted that last part, but he supposed having the president’s daughter pissed at you—and maybe the president by default because he loved his daughter—had to be a bad thing. Which also meant that he needed to be careful in how he went about talking to Brooke.

  Hacker’s eyes narrowed. “You interested in her?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you’re trying to dissuade me, dude.”

  Cade shrugged. “Just looking out for your best interests, man.”

  Hacker snorted. “Since when? Last time we were at a club, you delighted in watching some jerk-off try to kick my ass because I was talking to his girl.”

  “As fun as that was, that guy wasn’t Iceman. Who, I am certain, would kill for his wife if she wanted him to.”

  “It’s okay, Saint. You can just say you saw her first.”

  “Fine, I saw her first. And I already got her number, so back off.”

  Hacker laughed. “I don’t know why you didn’t just say that in the first place.”

  “Because it’s none of your business.”

  “So you aren’t afraid of Ice stomping you into jelly? Or of ending up in a dungeon somewhere?”

  “Nope. Because I’m not trying to get into her panties, after which point I’d suddenly become unavailable and uncommunicative.”

  “Aw, man—is that who you think I am?”

  Cade snorted. “Seriously? I’ve never seen you with the same date twice. I’ve also been around when you’ve had your face slapped while on a date by some chick you spent the night with. Remember the girl in Barcelona?”

  Hacker winced. “Oooh, Maria? Yeah, that was epic… So you don’t want to get into blondie’s panties?”

  Cade asked himself how he’d managed to get tangled up in this conversation in the first place. “Never said that. What I said was I’m not looking for a hookup and then never calling her again.”

  “Dude, you wanting picket fences and all that crap?”

  Cade sighed. “Did I say that? Jesus, Hacker, there’s more to life than fucking your brains out with a new woman every night.”

  Hacker blinked. “There is?”

  Harley walked into the office just then with a goofy smile on his face, effectively putting an end to the conversation. Cade figured he must have been talking to his girl. Eva Gray was a tattoo artist that Harley had started seeing after he’d gone off on a special assignment to his old motorcycle club in Georgia. Now he was back with Eva in tow, and he’d never seemed happier.

  Cade envied that happiness. He’d had relationships, but he’d never had one that made him feel like that. Usually his relationships ended with a sad fizzle, kinda like the air being let out of a balloon. Typically it was due to the life he led and the fact that no woman could seem to get used to being with a guy who routinely disappeared for weeks at a time and remained incommunicado for the duration.

  “Man, you went home for lunch, didn’t you?” Hacker said.

  “It’s not lunchtime,” Harley replied.

  “Then why are you smiling as if you’ve just gotten laid?”

  “Because I was on the phone with the woman I love, asswipe. It’s not always about getting laid.”

  “Whatever,” Hacker grumbled, turning back to his computer. “There’s something seriously wrong with you two.”

  Harley gave Cade a quizzical look.

  Cade rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s just bitter because he went home alone last night.”

  “Because I wanted to,” Hacker added over his shoulder.

  Harley lifted an eyebrow. Cade shrugged. Mal came striding in, folders tucked under his arm. He held them out to Cade. “Present from the CO’s secretary. Mendez wants them back by close of business today.”

  Cade took the stack and divided them up before handing a few out to the guys assembled. The others would be along soon and he’d spread the folders among them. “All right, let’s get to work then.”

  “I’d rather be in the field than doing paperwork,” Mal muttered as he took a seat.

  “Wouldn’t we all?” Hacker replied.

  Cade didn’t say anything as he flipped open the cover of the first folder on his desk. What he’d rather be doing was texting Brooke Sullivan. Or, better yet, exploring her naked body before spreading her legs and sinking into her slick heat.

  * * *

  Did you have a good day, angel?

  Brooke smiled at the text when it popped up on her phone. She was working on a marketing plan for a client and feeling the pressure of doing it right, but a text from Cade changed everything.

  Tension drained away as she picked up the phone and typed back. Still working, but yes. So far, so good.

  Cade: Where do you work?

  From home mostly. I have to meet with clients, but I make sure I’m done and home before dark. Usually. Right now I’m home.

  Cade: What kind of work?

  I’m a marketing consultant. I help you sell your product to the masses.

  Cade: Sounds interesting.

  It can be. It’s not what I really want though. Brooke felt that pinch of sadness she always felt when she thought of the cute bakery she’d worked so hard for—and then given up when she could no longer manage to function the way she needed in order to run a business.

  Cade: What do you want?

  You, she thought. But she didn’t type it. It was a shocking thought, especially since she’d only been texting with him for the past twe
nty-four hours. A few sexy emojis didn’t change who he was. He was still a hard, tough man who did an impossible job. And she was still a girl who cringed around men like him.

  I had a bakery. A little place that specialized in cupcakes. I had to give it up when I could no longer put in the hours.

  There. Short and to the point. No tears, no whining. Just the truth.

  Cade: I’m sorry, angel.

  She liked that he called her angel. Though maybe he called all the women he talked to angel. She wasn’t planning to ask because it made her feel kinda special. Besides, how did one ask a man if he commonly used endearments in his regular conversations with the opposite sex?

  Thank you. It’s okay. I’ll get it back one day.

  She routinely surfed real estate listings on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, looking for a quiet little town where she could open a bakery and tea shop. It wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, but it was comforting to plan it.

  Cade: I like cupcakes. If you want to bake any. Keep in practice.

  She laughed. Maybe I’ll bake you some one day. If you’re nice.

  Cade: I’m always nice.

  Another text appeared on her screen, interrupting the warm feelings swirling in her chest. Are you okay? Why aren’t you answering the phone? This from Scott. She’d known last night when she texted to tell him she wasn’t feeling well and needed a rain check on drinks that he wouldn’t let it go easily.

  Brooke clicked over to the message box with Scott. I’m okay. Just tired. I’m not really in the mood to talk to anyone.

  Scott: I can bring you some chicken soup. Give you a back rub.

  I don’t need soup, thanks. I’ll call you when I’m feeling better.

  A few seconds later, he replied. Fine.

  Brooke knew with that one word that she’d pissed him off. But dammit, why did he insist on forcing her into agreeing to things she didn’t want? Why couldn’t he take no for an answer the first time?

  She clicked back to Cade. And then, because she was feeling emotional and irritated, she typed out a quick message and hit Send. If I told you I was tired and not in the mood to talk, would your response be to offer to bring me some chicken soup and give me a back rub?