by Diana Gardin
Suddenly, I’m clinging to him, needing to get as close as possible. My fingers grip the short hair on the back of his head and he groans, sliding his hands down my back until he’s gripping my waist and sliding me toward the edge of the seat. His body hums with his natural predatory energy; I can almost feel the possession pouring from him as his hands make their way up under my shirt.
Possessed? Yep, that’s about right. It’s how he’s making me feel—like I belong to him in a way I’ve never belonged to anyone.
The scary part? I like it.
Pulling down the fabric of my bra, his fingers roll my nipple and it immediately pebbles as pleasurable pain rockets through me.
“Bennett,” I whimper. But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.
I just want.
Both hands now full of my breasts, Bennett leans back, his gaze intent on me as he watches my reaction. He pinches both nipples, and I bite my lip against my moan. My head drops back against my shoulder blades, and his voice is gravelly rough when he speaks.
“Fucking hell, woman…you’re so goddamned gorgeous. Where’d you come from?” The awe in his voice steals my breath.
“I’ve been right here all along.” I cry out as he pushes my shirt up farther, tucks my bra down, and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. He hums against my skin, the sound of pure approval causing the ache starting between my legs to grow and spread at an alarming rate.
I push my hips against him, seeking relief from the intensity of this moment. There’s a fire burning deep in my belly, and Bennett’s the only thing that’s going to put it out.
“Please.” Gripping his shoulders, I bury my head in the crook of his neck. Inhaling, I melt against him because his scent calls out to me: a mixture of spicy soap and sweat with the faintest hint of smoke.
Bennett slips a hand inside my stretchy pants, stroking me over my underwear.
“Baby, you’re soaking wet,” he groans as he slowly rubs my clit through the material. “I can feel you through the fabric…Jesus.”
I rock my hips against his hand, and his answering chuckle is only a little bit strained. “I got you, beautiful.”
Moving my panties to one side, he thrusts one thick finger inside me. I close my eyes, my nails digging into his shoulders as I wiggle against his hand.
“Tight as fuck,” he growls, pushing another finger inside me as his thumb strokes slow and steady circles around my clit.
My legs start to tremble.
It’s a combination of his hands, his dirty mouth, and the freedom I feel in his touch. Never in a million years could I have imagined being free in someone else’s hands. And I know that this doesn’t apply to anyone but Bennett. I still shy away from physical contact where any other human is concerned.
Bennett makes me feel things I’ve never before experienced, and it’s not just physical. My connection to him goes beyond that. So much deeper. Like I was stranded on an island before, all alone. And this man? He built a bridge and stormed across it to save me.
My impending orgasm rides on top of the wave of emotion threatening to drown me, and I hold on tight to the life raft that is Bennett Blacke. Pleasure washes over me.
“Bennett!” I don’t recognize the cry, but I know it’ll always belong to him.
He claims my mouth while I soar, kissing me deeper than I’ve ever been kissed. He murmurs words against my mouth, but I don’t understand a single one of them. I’m lost to sensation, to the moment, to the feeling of being in his arms and knowing I’m safe here.
When I come back to reality, Bennett stares at me, his eyes searching every inch of my face.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He brushes my hair off my forehead, his touch so tender where just a moment ago it made me want to climb the walls.
I’ve never believed it before, but his words make me feel like it’s true. Like I really am beautiful.
I cup his face and kiss his lips softly. His eyes close as he pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks. He groans when he pulls away, carefully tucking my clothes back into place.
“We have to go. Damn…that’s not what I intended to happen when I stopped the truck.” Shaking his head like he can’t believe himself, he glances around at the quiet road. “But I’m not sorry I did.”
I’m still smiling ten minutes later when we pull into the NES parking lot.
But then my smile falters, because everything that just happened back at the hotel comes rushing back. I could have lost all of those men. Men who were only there protecting me. They’re all caught in the middle now. I know better than anyone that it’s their job to protect people, but it’s a whole different story when I’m the one putting their lives at risk. It’s something I didn’t foresee happening.
I work at Night Eagle Security with the Rescue Ops team. I never intended to become a client.
Bennett sees the change in my demeanor immediately as he cuts the engine. Lifting my chin with a finger so I can meet his gaze, he looks into my eyes.
“We’ve got this.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I close off the rioting force of emotions funneling into my stomach and nod. We exit the truck and Bennett takes my hand as he swipes us into the building.
Thorn is standing at the desk, waiting for us as we arrive, with Ronin and Grisham.
Bennett glances around. “Conners here?”
I belatedly glance around and see that Dare and Jeremy are missing. I’m alternating between replaying the hotel cartel attack and the much more personal attack on my heart and my body by Bennett in the truck on the way here.
Ronin steps forward. “He’s with the suspect. He’s detained in the chamber.”
I shudder. The chamber is where we keep suspects that we need a little time with before we release them to law enforcement. It’s really Ronin’s house of worship, where he does all the dirty work it takes to make someone talk. I’ve never been in the room, but I know it’s detached from the NES building, out back, and that it’s a place where I probably never want to go.
Ronin bends so he can inspect my face. He doesn’t touch me, though, for which I’m thankful. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Bennett stiffens next to me. Ronin glances over at him and smirks before giving me his attention again. “You okay?”
He’s never called me sweetheart before. None of the guys have. They’ve always seen me as part of the team, not some damsel to be rescued. And I’ll be damned if that’s going to change now. Straightening, I square my shoulders and look him straight in the eye.
“I’m absolutely fine. All I need is to get behind my computer so I can figure out how to put these bastards away before they kill someone.”
Ronin shoots me a grim smile. “Atta girl, Viper.” He turns to Bennett. “I need anything you can give me on this dude, something I can arm myself with before I head into that room with him. I’m not coming out of there until he tells us something useful, something we can use to take this goddamn faction out.”
“I’m going in there with you. I need to see it for myself.” His gaze slants toward me, something flashing in his eyes. “This is personal for me now.”
Ronin glances between the two of us, and a slow, knowing smile dawns across his face. These guys know me well enough to know that if Bennett broke through, he earned that right. Thorn glances between all of us like he’s a little lost, which I can only imagine he is. He runs a hand over his closely shaved blond hair. Just as big, rough, and ruggedly handsome as the rest of the guys, Thorn Ryder is an ex-navy SEAL with tons of pent-up energy.
His caramel-colored eyes lock on me. “I’m glad they didn’t get to you, Viper.”
I give him a nod and a small smile. “Thanks for protecting me, Thorn.”
Ronin studies Bennett. I know the two are close, having met at The Oakes when Bennett arrived in town and began bartending there. They bonded over their Special Forces history and discovered that they have more than a few friends and experiences in common. Their brotherhood
runs deep, even though they haven’t known each other longer than a year. Understanding passes between them.
Ronin jerks his chin in the direction of the hallway leading toward the back of the building. “Let’s go, then.”
Bennett immediately turns to me. Taking my chin between his index finger and thumb, his blue eyes bore into mine. “Be back soon, beautiful. Do your thing and find us something we can work with, all right?” He leans in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “And no more thoughts about leaving me. Yeah?”
I nod, and his lips land on my forehead in a whisper of a kiss. He drops my chin and glances at Grisham. “Keep eyes on her, Ghost.”
Grisham looks amused and slightly annoyed. “Don’t have to tell me that, Blaze.”
Bennett freezes. I glance at Grisham, an eyebrow lifted in question.
Ronin chuckles without turning. “Once you earn your spot on this team, we give you a nickname. You earned yours the day you saved my woman. But it took the guys here a little longer to figure it out.”
I can see the pleased expression in Bennett’s eyes as he nods, and with one last look at me, he disappears down the hallway with Ronin.
I head straight for my office, knowing Grisham and Thorn will shadow me. Sinking down into my desk chair I turn on my laptop. It flares to life, and my muscles immediately relax. Flexing my fingers, I start typing.
20
Bennett
We exit the NES building through a back door just as secure as the front. Solid metal, requiring a badge for entrance or exit. I saw the back lot when Ronin showed me around my first day at work here, but we didn’t go inside “The Chamber” then. It’s a smaller brick building, much like its bigger counterpart, where the main headquarters is located.
Dare is standing outside the door. He’s at the ready, alert with his hands clasped together in front of him. When we step up in front of him he gives me a once-over that would normally piss me off. But right now, my mind is on a million things other than Dare Conners’s approval.
He stares me down. “You set off a bomb inside a fucking hotel?”
Stopping short, I return the stare that’s supposed to intimidate me. “Had to. My job is to protect Sayward no matter what.”
For a few seconds, no one speaks. Ronin just watches us both with amused interest.
Finally, Dare lifts his chin once.
What the fuck? Respect? Did hell just freeze over?
“Nice one, Blaze.” His lips twitch and I almost fall over.
Ronin pulls his identification card from the small chain on his belt loop and throws over his shoulder: “We done with this love-fest, ladies? I have a suspect to interrogate.” He swipes it at the door. His tone changes to complete and total seriousness. “Let’s go.”
Dare follows us inside The Chamber. The place isn’t what I expected.
What I expected to see was an actual interrogation room. Two-way mirrors, lots of shiny steel and polished concrete like the main building, a big table where the suspect sits on one side and the interrogator sits on the other. Classic. Vanilla. On the up-and-up.
That’s not even close to what The Chamber really is.
It’s like a motherfucking cave.
No windows. One big, open room with a dirty concrete floor. Fluorescent bulbs being the only lighting, shadows dip and hide throughout the space. A chain-link fence separates one half of the room from the other, and waiting on the other side, his back against the cinder block wall, is the cartel member Thorn dragged out of the hotel.
He looks worse for wear as he watches us with wary eyes, one eye blackened and a giant bruised lump marring one side of his forehead. Knowing he’s been disarmed, I head straight for the gate in the middle of the fence.
Ronin steps in front of me. His look tells me to slow the fuck down and follow his lead. Knowing that this is his area of expertise, I nod once. My heartbeat drums against my rib cage, and my breaths are coming shallow and quick. I didn’t know just how much I wanted to hurt this bastard, the representative of the entity threatening Sayward, until this moment.
Ronin, without tossing a glance at the waiting perp, crosses to a cabinet pushed against one wall on our side of the fence. It’s red and stainless steel, the kind of cabinet you’d see in a mechanic’s garage. Pulling open the largest drawer, he removes what looks like a slim black briefcase.
It doesn’t take me more than a second to figure out what’s in that briefcase.
After unlocking the old-school padlock on the gate with a key, he eyes me and lifts his chin in the direction of the cell. I follow him inside, and Dare locks the gate behind us.
Ronin places the suitcase down on the floor near the gate, and then he glances at me. He lifts his voice. “He look like he has anything to say?”
I glance at the cartel man. He looks between us with defiance in his eyes. I shake my head, keeping my gaze locked on him. He relaxes against the wall and smirks. Then he spits on the floor.
Shaking my head, I look back at Ronin. “Nope.”
Ronin strides over to the man and without even taking a pause, punches him hard in the jaw. The man stumbles back, has nowhere to go, and sits down on the long wooden bench behind him. The man spits again, this time a mouthful of blood.
He says something in Spanish and Ronin hits him again. Turning away, Ronin walks over to grab the briefcase while the man coughs and splutters.
I step over and drop down in front of the man whose face is now bloody. “He’s just getting started. Why don’t you answer one question for me, and we’ll go from there. How many cartel members are in Wilmington?”
He stares at me, resisting.
Ronin pulls a needle from the briefcase. He eyes the man while testing the liquid inside the syringe. “Oh, did you expect something more lethal-looking, like a knife? A gun? Torch, maybe? Don’t worry…I have those, too. But do you want to know what this is?”
He gazes down at the man, who sullenly stares back. No answer.
“You don’t?” Ronin gently places the syringe down on top of the briefcase and then lunges for the man, grabbing his throat. The asshole struggles, fingers clawing at Ronin’s hand squeezing his neck. He wheezes, gasping, but still Ronin doesn’t let go. I watch, sickly fascinated and not feeling even a little bit sorry for the bastard.
When the man’s face starts to turn purple, Ronin throws him backward, and he clutches at his throat as he presses his back against the wall. “Yes! What is in the needle?”
He speaks in thickly accented English.
Ronin nods. “That’s better. When we ask you a question, it’s your only job to answer it. I’m not going to kill you. That’d be too easy. But I am going to hurt you, and I promise you that’s going to be so much worse.”
Finally, a flicker of fear shows in the man’s eyes. It’s not from the pain Ronin promises to inflict. This man is a member of the Colombian drug cartel. It’s the indifferent, matter-of-fact tone Ronin uses when delivering his threats. It’s fucking chilling.
That’s why they call him Swagger.
There’s no hint of hesitation or deliberation in his words. Just pure, cold, truth.
“There are six of us.” His voice is hoarse. “We have been staying in a corporate apartment in a building owned by a shell corporation tied to the cartel.”
Ronin’s face doesn’t change. I lean in closer. “Where? And why does Suarez want her dead?”
The man’s mouth clamps shut.
Ronin picks up the needle. “This is an illegally potent neurotoxin. It takes thirty seconds before it hits your nerves. The pain? It’ll be unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It’ll only last three minutes, but those three minutes will feel like a fucking eternity. After that three minutes is over, you’ll return to your conscious state and we’ll ask you again. Hopefully this time you’ll be smart enough to answer.”
When the man still doesn’t answer, Ronin, moving like a cobra, injects the drug into the man’s neck.
Thirty seconds later, th
e perp starts to scream.
21
Sayward
After thirty minutes, I now have all of the information the U.S. government has on Pablo Suarez, as well as some that they don’t. My skills as a hacker are unmatched, and, not for the first time, I’m thankful for them. I sit back, staring at the photo of the man on the screen in front of me.
The son of the man who killed my mother.
I’ll never forget the elder Suarez’s face, and that of his son is similar enough that it sends chills skating along my spine. I shut my eyes against the rush of memories threatening to bombard me.
I can’t succumb to them now.
“Tell us what you got, Viper.” Grisham stands over my shoulder, peering at the picture.
“Pablo Suarez has several shell corporations hiding cartel money in several countries around the world. One of them is right here in Wilmington, and it was only purchased three days ago, right after my father’s death.”
Grisham sucks in a breath. “Which could indicate that that’s when he located you.”
I stare at the screen. “But we don’t know why.” My index finger taps against the computer screen as I stare at the information I’ve scoured the Web to find. Finally, I shake my head. “I’m going to print all of this out. Jacob likes an old-school file to study.”
Grisham snorts. “Old man runs an office that’s modern as hell, but he still needs to hold real manila folders full of papers when he’s reading up on an adversary. Never fails.”
I smile as I hit PRINT. “That’s just Jacob.”
My office being down the hall from the front lobby, we all hear it when the front door buzzes with the sound of a security badge before it clicks open. I stiffen, fear gripping me before I can stop it, but Grisham glances at Thorn. From his position by my office door, Thorn pokes his head out into the hallway.
“It’s Boss Man,” he informs us.
I sigh, relief flowing through me like a river. That’s what this situation has done to me: It’s turned me into someone who jumps at every sound, someone who turns tense at the first sign of anything amiss.
