by Lora Leigh
Then he caught her beneath her knees and angled her hips up to him.
Zoey fell back, catching herself on her elbows, watching the broad cock head as it began pushing inside her. Slowly.
“Hard,” she begged, feeling the stretching bite of a pleasure-pain that wasn’t nearly enough.
“Not yet,” he groaned. “Let me watch, Zoey. Watch your sweet pussy open for me. Take me. Slow and easy.”
He worked inside her, just as he said, slow and easy, stretching her inner flesh, sending fiery lashes of sensation racing through her system.
Working inside her, push, retreat. As he pulled back, the thick coating of her natural lubrication clung to the thick, dark shaft. It glistened, covering his flesh even as it clung to hers.
“That’s it, little witch,” he groaned as the throbbing crest disappeared inside her again, parting her, the intimate folds hugging the stalk with a sheen of slick moisture. “Milk my cock inside you, Zoey. You’re so tight. So fucking hot and tight.”
One hand lifted, slid to the hem of her tank, and pushed it over her breasts, his glaze burning hotter as he stared at her swollen curves, the puckered, pebble-hard nipples.
He came over her then, his lips moving to the hard point of a nipple as his hips gave a hard, shallow thrust. Fiery pleasure pulsed inside her, that pleasure-pain sensation dragging a cry from her lips and shuddering through her.
His lips, teeth, and tongue worked over her nipples, one to the other, sucking deep and hard, nibbling with exquisite heat, and licking over them with hungry demand.
“Doogan.” The cry tore from her as he began thrusting harder, deeper inside her.
As he plunged the wide crest and broad stalk deep, the heavy veins throbbed with blood, rising beneath the silken flesh and creating an intense bite of sensation with each pounding stroke.
Blinding, white-hot flashes of raw sensation began wrapping around her senses, burning through them, pushing her into that incredibly erotic storm beginning to build inside her.
Each lunge of his hips buried his flesh deeper, built the exquisite sensations churning through her. Lifting herself to him, writhing beneath him, Zoey buried her fingers in Doogan’s hair. Her neck arched, moans spilling unbidden from her throat as he began taking her harder, faster. Driving inside her, each fierce thrust sent piercing lashes of desperate need tightening in her womb, spiraling through her senses and pushing her deeper inside the chaos building through her.
“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his lips lifting from her breasts, stroking them over her neck, brushing against hers, his breathing as harsh and labored as her own. “Take me, Zoey. God, you’re so sweet. So fucking tight.”
Pulling back, thrusting inside her again, again, until he buried to the hilt, the fiery stretching burn stealing her breath and tearing a groan from his chest.
“Ah hell, Zoey. I love your sweet pussy.” The hand at her hip tightened, his lips covered hers, his tongue sinking past them as he began moving, each driving impalement a shock to her already oversensitized flesh; each stroke, each blinding furious thrust drove her higher until she was crying out his name and exploding into ecstasy.
Deep racking shudders raced through her body. Her internal muscles clamped down on his cock, tightening around it as he pushed in to the hilt and growled her name against her lips, finding his own release inside her.
It was like flying, being flung into a storm of pure, raw sensation, and Zoey knew she was becoming hooked on him. On this pleasure he gave her, the warmth that surrounded her, and the sound of his voice as he whispered her name.
When it was over, sweat-dampened and boneless she lay beneath him and pushed away any thoughts of what the future would bring once he was gone. She couldn’t let herself think about tomorrow. Couldn’t let the thought of losing him spoil the time she had with him.
Not yet. Not until she had no other choice.
—
“Come on, witch.” Lifting her into his arms after fixing his jeans, Doogan strode up the stairs and carried Zoey to the sun-splashed bedroom.
Depositing her on the bed, he stared down at her, watching as she lifted those thickly lashed eyelids just enough to stare up at him.
“We could take a nap,” she suggested, a tempting smile curling her lips.
“I’d love to,” he said regretfully. “Unfortunately, I have to take care of some of that spy stuff you mentioned earlier.”
A little wrinkle of her nose and a sensuous stretch of that far-too-tempting body had his dick twitching in renewed interest. He was going to end up fucking them both to death if he wasn’t careful, because all he wanted to do was live inside her.
“You be good,” he ordered, bending to catch those pouty lips in a quick kiss.
Then he lingered.
She mesmerized him. She made him so damned hungry it was all he could do to function for the need to have her again. To sink inside her, feel that tight pussy gripping him, pulling him inside her.
If he wasn’t careful she’d end up owning him.
That thought had him pulling back, breaking the kiss, breathing out roughly and straightening once again.
“You’re dangerous,” he told her, knowing she had become far too important to him at a time she wasn’t even aware of. What she was doing to him now could become far more than a simple hazard to his self-control.
“Well, I lost a lot of sleep last night.” Celadon green peeked up at him through lush, heavy lashes. “I think a nap is definitely on my schedule today.”
He bent to her again. He simply couldn’t help himself. Brushing back a tangle of long curls from her cheek, he let his lips brush against hers again. “Dream of me, baby,” he whispered, letting his gaze touch hers, assuring her silently that when he returned, they would definitely play again. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I’m sure I’ll be waiting.” She laughed up at him. “The hickey on my neck assures it.”
As he straightened, his gaze went to her neck, the mark he’d left on her clearly visible. Just as visible as his was. And he couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction the sight of hers brought him, even knowing the consequences it could bring.
“Sleep well, witch,” he said softly.
He had to force himself to leave her. After changing clothes and arming himself, he had to force himself to the garage, and even as he drove away, leaving her nagged at him. He wanted to stay. He needed to stay. And needing Zoey wasn’t supposed to have happened.
—
The black pickup Graham was watching for moved into view. The lights went out on the truck when it reached the side of the bar. A short distance later Doogan pulled into a spot protected by ornamental trees and shrubs that extended from the back of the bar to the side door, providing complete anonymity for anyone with the proper code to get past John’s security and the bouncer just inside.
“Lyrica thinks Zoey will drop the racing once she wins,” he commented, rather than informing the other man that Brom Doogan had arrived. “She says it’s just one of Zoey’s little adventures.”
Eli looked up with a glare. “She tell you what’s next on Zoey’s little bucket list?”
“She has a list?” Graham assumed she had one, he just had no idea what was on it. Or even why she had it.
“Oh, she has a list,” Eli growled. “Once she wins the damned race, her next adventure is to lose her virginity to someone who will make her family scream the loudest. And so far, the candidates she’s listed give me nightmares . . .”
“She’s already decided on the candidate I do believe.” Brom Doogan walked in, his gaze going to Eli as the young agent jumped immediately to his feet. He only shook his head sadly at Eli before turning to Graham.
—
Marriage was being damned good to Graham, Doogan thought. His friend’s face was more relaxed and his gray eyes had lost that shadowed look.
“’Bout time.” Graham grinned, gesturing to the chair next to the desk. “Have a seat and tell me what the hell
you’re talking about. And here I thought Kye causing trouble in the bar tonight was going to be my biggest worry.”
“Yeah, this is guaranteed to be a good one,” Eli snorted mockingly.
Doogan figured he’d had about enough of the young agent’s smart ass. “Agent Grant, get out there with Kye and keep her out of trouble before you end up fired.”
Eli turned to Graham, his gaze fierce, questioning.
Doogan arched his brow at the older agent. “You get a promotion the director didn’t tell me about, Graham?” he asked pleasantly. “Congratulations. Should I start calling you sir now?”
As far as he knew, Graham had turned down the offer Doogan had accepted as director of operations.
Graham lowered his head, hiding a smile as he shook it briefly. “Nope. No promotion here, Brom.”
“Would you like to be reassigned, Agent Grant?” Doogan asked softly. “It can be arranged. Before the hour is out, actually.”
“No sir,” he bit out with the barest civility.
“Then get your ass out that door and into that bar. Once there, you will stick as close as possible to Miss Brock until your commander or your operations director informs you otherwise. Are we clear?”
“Yes. Sir.” Animosity filled the young man’s tone now, but he left the room, closing the door with a controlled snap as Doogan turned back to Graham.
His friend was watching the closed door with brooding thoughtfulness.
“His insubordination is straining my patience, Graham,” Doogan informed him. “This is your fair warning, just as I promised. One more time and our friendship won’t save his job.”
Graham nodded slowly, his expression still contemplative.
“You’ve put up with him longer than I would have under the same circumstances, Brom. I was hoping he would have softened by now. I’ll take care of it.”
Brom. Graham called him Doogan when others were around, mostly. He was one of the few Doogan allowed the privilege.
“Now.” Graham narrowed his gaze back at him. “What’s this about being at the top of Zoey’s list of potential first lovers?” He grimaced worriedly. “That’s not a safe place to be, my friend.”
Reaching into the light jacket he wore, Doogan pulled free a white envelope and handed it to Graham. “Perhaps this will explain things better. It’s from Director Bryce himself.”
“Why do I have a feeling this letter is just going to end up pissing me off?” Graham sighed.
With an inclination of his head and a wry smile, Doogan took the chair Graham had offered moments before and watched as the other man sat back down at the desk.
Propping his ankle on the opposite knee, Doogan turned his attention to the security camera as Graham opened the envelope and pulled the letter free.
As Graham read, Doogan watched Eli via the security camera placed behind the bar. The younger man sat at the bar, watching Kye in between glares at the camera.
Doogan was trying to be patient with the boy. He knew why Eli had a problem with him, just as Graham did. Because of it, he’d let the young agent get away with far more than he should have.
Eli refused to see the truth of the events that instilled that resentment in him. No matter the times Eli’s father had tried to make him understand, and no matter the attempts Graham had made, that resentment lingered.
“Oh, fuck,” Graham groaned as he finished the director’s letter. “Doogan, you don’t want to do this.”
No, he didn’t want to do it, but there was little choice at this point. Somehow, another agent had learned Harley was missing and was under the belief Zoey had killed him. Neither Doogan nor Director Bryce had yet to learn the agent’s source of information.
“If I don’t do it, then the assignment will go to Collin Westfield.” Doogan leaned forward as Graham’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “My own initial investigation revealed the rumor that Natches Mackay beat up Agent Harley Matthews aka Harley Perdue and demanded he leave town because of his cousin, Zoey Mackay. That’s the rumor here in Somerset. According to Westfield, he was contacted by an anonymous source who revealed that Zoey Mackay killed Harley, then somehow managed to hide the act. Rather than investigating, Westfield requested immediate arrest. The director refused the request, but that hasn’t stopped the agent from threatening to go over his head. If that happens and Zoey’s arrested, then all the hard work the rest of us have done since Timothy Cranston began courting the Mackay clan as DHS support is shot to hell.”
“Arresting any Mackay will start a war between a hell of a lot of powerful men and DHS,” Graham admitted. “The director will lose quite a few damned good agents as well. I can think of four of us right off the bat.”
“Five, just in case I wasn’t a consideration,” Doogan amended coolly. “The problem is, Westfield won’t care. That’s why I’m here myself, because I do care.”
Graham wiped his hand over his face, then stared back at him in disgust. “That letter.” He flipped the paper in contempt. “Orders me not to tell my wife jack shit, Doogan. That’s her sister we’re talking about.”
“And your wife’s baby sister doesn’t do a damned thing that your wife isn’t well aware of, Graham,” Doogan informed him mockingly. “Are you aware Lyrica knows Zoey is tortured by nightmares of killing Harley?”
Graham stared back at him in shock. “Not possible. Lyrica would have told me.”
“I stayed at Zoey’s last night and bugged her living area. I actually overheard the conversation this afternoon. Lyrica’s certain it’s some nightmare Zoey can’t distinguish from reality, whereas Zoey is convinced there’s more behind it. Incidentally, it would have happened before he was seen at Ziggler’s convenience store at the edge of town. But if Westfield ever gets so much as a whisper of that little nugget of information, then hell is going to explode at DHS as well as in Somerset.”
Graham shook his head. “Harley’s not dead. I saw him for about two minutes after I was released from the hospital last summer. He made the shot that killed Jimmy Dorne. That was months after he was seen leaving town.”
“He has to come in, Graham . . .”
“Good fucking luck,” Graham snapped. “He won’t even come in for Natches, and they were tight as hell. Hell, until he took that shot at Jimmy, no one had seen or heard from him since he’d disappeared.”
“Does Natches have any idea why?” Doogan asked him.
“None.” Graham shook his head, and he wasn’t lying.
As Graham tapped the letter against the desk, his expression creased with worry. “You’ll break her heart, Brom,” he said, meeting Doogan’s gaze again. “She doesn’t deserve that. She’s a good kid.”
“Better a broken heart than what Westfield would do.” He pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. “If he arrests her, he’ll send her straight to Gitmo or a black site outside the U.S. to be held before anyone can stop him. By the time Matthews showed himself and she’s released, she wouldn’t be the same. You know what would happen to her, Graham. She’d never be the same woman who was taken.”
“And if he tries it anyway?” Graham asked, knowing the war that would erupt if anything even approaching that scenario happened.
“Then he’ll receive a similar order to yours,” Doogan informed him. “This operation is top-level covert and under not just my direction but also my command. If he tries anything after that, then I get to kill him myself.” He stared back at Graham with icy determination. “And I will kill him.”
Collin Westfield’s vendetta against the Mackays was becoming a problem even the director was concerned with. It was getting harder and harder to block his bullshit and keep knowledge of it from reaching Dawg, Natches, or Rowdy Mackay. Their contacts in the law enforcement field were far reaching and went even deeper than the director knew. So far, between himself and Bryce, they’d kept the other agent contained. That wasn’t going to last much longer.
The Mackays’ strength, loyalty, and dedication to their county and country had change
d the face of several once-suspected small, emerging family-backed militias. And not just in Kentucky. Those clans were now allies to the agency. If it appeared DHS was betraying the Mackays, then they’d lose far more than one family’s loyalty.
“Westfield’s not stupid, Brom. He’s already prepared,” Graham mused. “He wouldn’t have expected you to take the assignment yourself, though. He’ll be trying to figure out a way to work around you.”
Doogan drew in a heavy breath. “Be careful, Graham, because someone close to the Mackays is funneling information to him. Just before I headed out he went to the director with a request to come to Somerset to follow up on a contact’s report regarding questionable Mackay activities. Bryce set his ears back with an ass chewing that’s only going to hold him back so long.”
“You think it was Eli?” Graham’s fingers closed into a fist where one arm rested on the desk.
“Actually, no, I don’t.” Sitting forward once again, Doogan narrowed his eyes at the security camera to watch Eli edging closer to Graham’s sister Kye. “But someone’s trying to make it appear it’s Eli. His animosity toward me is well known, and Eli doesn’t always watch his back properly. Perhaps we should partner him with someone we trust. Someone who will watch his back.”
Graham sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling for several moments before straightening and nodding slowly. “I know who I can use. Eli’s assignment has been Zoey, but I’ve been thinking . . .”
“Take him off Zoey, Graham,” Doogan ordered him softly. “I’ll kill him if you don’t.”
Graham grunted in reply but shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how we want to do it.” He sat forward slowly, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “How much do you know about Eli’s interaction with Zoey?”
“That he fucks that bike up to keep her from winning.” A dumb move on the kid’s part. “She’s ready to kick his ass.”
A small, rueful grin tugged at Graham’s lips then. “I assume you’re going to fix that?”
Doogan merely stared back at him blandly.
