by Amy Gamet
He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He kissed the top of her head.
“I’m Logan.”
He felt her smile against his chest. “Gemma.”
An uncommon name. That would help him find her. She wanted no-strings-attached sex, but she was somehow involved in his case, and he already knew there was no way in hell one night with her in his bed was going to be enough.
They had chemistry, and he wanted to fuck her until that spark petered out. His cock bounced with renewed interest. “Hope you don’t have to get up too early tomorrow,” he said.
“Ugh. I do.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer. You?”
He hesitated.
How close was Gemma to Royce?
Close enough for him to confide in her?
He noted her loose, relaxed limbs, the way she cuddled easily in his arms. “I work for a company called HERO Force. Hands-on Engagement and Recognizance Operations. We help people in trouble and keep them safe.”
Her body registered no recognition.
“For a fee,” she said with an easy laugh.
He flipped over quickly, rolling on top of her. “Hell yes. Chick magnet apartments like this don’t come cheap.” He kissed her mouth, loving the taste of her and the way her legs spread willingly beneath him. “I hope you don’t have any important lawsuits to file tomorrow, because I don’t think you’re going to get a lot of sleep.” He pressed his hard cock against her.
“Oh my God, you’re like a machine.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He took a condom out of the nightstand, put it on, and eased inside her. He groaned at the sensation. “I needed this today, Gemma. I needed you.”
“Me, too.”
This time when they moved together, it felt to Logan like their minds were connected as well as their bodies. She held his head in her hands and kissed him tenderly.
It was intense.
Too intense.
He pulled back. “Get on all fours.”
She did as he asked and he thrust into her fully, letting his eyes close. He pumped hard into her body, loving the way she responded to him. He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back, and her body clenched tightly around his cock.
She liked that, too. How rough would she let him get?
He couldn’t escape their connection, and he finally let himself go, feeling the click of one soul against another as they fit solidly into place, awareness focusing to a single point of intense pleasure.
7
“Earth to O’Malley.”
Logan looked away from his site picture on the AK-47 to eyeball Trevor. “I’m listening.”
“Then what the fuck did I just say?”
Trevor returned from Dubai ahead of the others, just in time for their weekly target practice at the outdoor range.
“That I have to take the wind speed and distance to target into consideration, not just the site picture.” He knew he was distracted. Hell, anybody could tell he was distracted, and the hickey on his neck was only part of the reason why. The image of the car bomb was lodged firmly in his mind, blocking the way for rational thought and conversation.
“Okay then, fire when ready.”
Logan looked back down the barrel of the gun to his target some hundred yards away and pulled the trigger, emptying his magazine.
“Bring it back,” said Hawk.
Logan hopped to his feet and reeled in the target.
Hawk spit on the ground. “I’m guessing whatever is on your mind has a kick ass pair of tatas and a cooch that just won’t quit.”
Logan grinned. Easier to talk about sex than death, any day. “That, she does.”
“If you are in the field, shit like that will get you killed.” The paper target came into view, a hole the size of an egg blown through the heart. Hawk whistled. “Nice grouping.”
“If this is me getting killed, maybe I ought to think about those kick ass tatas and cooch more often.”
Hawk met his eyes. “Do it again, smart ass. Two hundred yards this time.”
Logan nodded and sent another target down the outdoor range.
“We rely on each other in the field, Logan. We need the complete attention of the entire team. Frankly I don’t give a shit if you’re good at multitasking. I want your whole brain with me when the bullets are flying.”
Logan nodded. Hawk was testing him. The other guys were always testing him, and Logan appreciated it. Not everybody who wanted to learn this shit got trained by some of the best in the world. And if that meant he had to take some of their crap, then so be it.
“So, tell me about this girl,” said Hawk.
“Woman.”
Hawk chuckled. “I’ve seen you at the bars. The girls love that brainy geek thing you’ve got going on. So why do you pick the cougars?”
“Don’t make it sound like they’re hunting for prey. I picked her because I wanted her.”
“What’s the attraction?”
“A girl doesn’t know what she wants. A woman does.”
“You mean sex?”
It was Logan’s turn to laugh.“I mean everything.”
“And this woman wanted you?”
An image of Gemma riding him in the night popped into his mind. “Oh yeah, she did.”
“How long you been seeing her?”
“Just one night. But I’m going to see her again, don’t you worry.”
Hawk shook his head. “If I didn’t have the most beautiful Academy Award nominee in my bed every night, I might be a little jealous of you, boy.”
“You won the freaking lottery with that one. When are you going to make an honest woman out of her?”
“Just as soon as she lets me. She wants to get through shooting one more movie first so she’ll have time to plan everything. She’ll be on location in Paris for six months.”
“Damn, that’s rough.”
“Nothing we can’t handle if we’re going to make it ‘till death do us part. Now fire that gun.”
Logan got in prone position and lined up his sight, mentally calculating the effect of the wind on his projectile. He imagined the black outline was an actual tango, knowing it would feel different to fire at a real person.
His role with HERO Force was changing into something more tactical. The more he learned about combat and marital arts, the more was expected of him from the team. But his medical degree had taught him how to repair the damage from a bullet wound, not to inflict one, and he was quickly learning that supporting a righteous cause from a distance was very different than defending it himself.
He emptied his magazine and hopped back up, reeling it in. “You remember the first time you fired with the the intent to kill?”
“Of course I do. Everybody does.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It’s a lot like losing your virginity. My story won’t be anything like yours. When you’re in the moment, you’ll know what you need to do. The trick is actually doing it.”
8
Gemma had barely slept. She was awake with the first light of dawn streaming through Logan’s huge loft windows, her head throbbing as images of the night before ran through her mind.
Logan had given her everything she’d wanted in spades. Physical gratification and the most basic connection with another human being.
Now she needed to go back to real life.
Her worry for Royce was waiting at the edges of her memory since she’d refused to stew on it last night.
It had been years since she and Royce were together, but she’d cared for him deeply before she learned of his duplicity. She’d done the right thing and ended their relationship when she found out he was married, but her heart was already broken. Hatred had quickly filled in those cracks.
Now he was in danger and she was filled with anxious worry, not only for Royce but for his family.
They must be going through hell.
Again.
She’d been responsible for putting them through it once before. Now the girls’ mother was dead and their father abducted. They must be grown up by now, but surely that didn’t make it any easier.
Logan stirred behind her and she held her breath. Now that sobriety had taken hold, she couldn’t believe she’d spent the night with a guy half her age, and all she wanted to do was escape.
She managed to slip from his bed without waking him, then stopped home for a quick shower before heading to work.
Two hours later, she was staring into space, barely paying attention as she filled her mug with hot water and picked up a tea bag before settling behind her desk. She had a full schedule today, and she struggled to focus her attention on the matters at hand.
She flipped through correspondence and motions, upcoming cases and influential verdicts. She was just about to put her paperwork aside when her eyes locked onto a familiar name.
HERO Force.
Her head jerked back, not understanding why her one-night-stand’s employer was staring her in the face. She skimmed the paperwork on the latest case she’d been assigned.
Stewart Cole versus Jax Andersson and Leo Wilson. An amount of money that made her whistle and an allegation of wrongful death.
She cursed colorfully.
I have a real knack for sleeping with the wrong guy.
She’d have to recuse herself. Her eyes squeezed shut. It happened. It was a small world with only six degrees of separation that sometimes felt like two or three.
She would handle it.
You’re just feeling like a slut for sleeping with that guy last night. That’s the problem.
An image of him on top of her appeared unbidden in her mind. She shook her head. Sorry wasn’t the word. Her thighs were sore from straddling his large frame and there was a tenderness deep inside her from the repeated thrusts of his body into hers. The sex had been amazing, but she wasn’t the type for one-night stands, and she liked him more than she probably should, especially since he was clearly much younger than she.
The clock chimed. It was time for voir dire in her first case, and she took a deep, cleansing breath before donning her robe and making her way into the courtroom.
As a judge in civil court, she’d seen everything from wrongful death like the HERO Force case to slander and breach of contract. Some of the cases were heartbreaking, but the one today was personal and she’d been dreading it for weeks.
It was a medical malpractice case being brought by the mother of a young woman who had died of breast cancer the year before. The patient was the same age Gemma had been when she was diagnosed with breast cancer herself.
Gemma had lived.
This woman’s daughter had died.
It was hard to make sense of that, no matter the details of the case, and she wouldn’t hear those for quite some time. It was her job to be impartial, but she was only human. Some cases affected her more than others, and she needed to work hard to keep her emotions in check and her judgment free from bias.
Jury selection could be a long process in a case like this, and two hours later they’d barely made any progress. The head lawyer for the doctor’s team stood up. “Your honor, we request numbers three, five, and nine be excused.”
She nodded. Those people had close relationships with people who’d had breast cancer. The damn disease was everywhere. If they hoped to avoid jurors who hadn’t been touched by it in some way, they had a long road ahead of them.
She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking of a T-shirt she had in her closet at home that she should wear under her robe sometime during this trial.
Yes, they’re fake.
My real ones tried to kill me!
Oh God, had Logan noticed?
Don’t think about him again.
But her mind went rogue and her cheeks flooded with heat as she wondered what he might have noticed about her chest. She’d only had one other relationship since her surgery – a six month stint with a cardiologist – and he knew about her reconstruction long before they’d had sex. But Logan had no idea, and it had been very dark in the room.
Stop it.
She tapped her pencil on her blotter, wishing the lawyers would do something so she could get the hell out of her own head.
There was something about Logan that wasn’t going to be easy to forget, and she hadn’t bargained on that in her quest for anonymous sex. There had been moments during the night when it felt like they’d been lovers for years.
A kiss.
A touch.
His fingers intertwined with hers.
And his body! He was hung. She’d never been with a guy like that, had barely believed April when she told her men of such size existed, like unicorns or Sasquatch. And the man had stamina. They’d had sex four times in the night, the intimacy of being woken from sleep by sexy kisses and erotic touches still at the forefront of her mind.
Definitely not easy to forget.
The lawyer moved forward to question a potential juror and she snapped back to the present, but it wasn’t long before voir dire turned to quiet consideration and her mind was right back in Logan’s bed.
Man, how old is he, anyway?
That might be a question she really didn’t need answered. He looked about thirty. If that estimate was right, she was a solid fifteen years older than him. Hell, if this were Teen Mom she could be his mother.
She still had that thought in her mind several hours later after she’d adjourned the case for the night and finished some work in her chambers before heading home, exhausted.
It was dusk by the time she got off the bus near her house and started the three-block walk to her door. The evening air was warm and humid, a breeze carrying the smell of barbecue and flowers. For the first time all day, her mind was finally free of the buzzards that had been haunting her consciousness since she awoke.
A noise behind her and she turned, relieved to see it was just a jogger. Her neighborhood was pretty safe, but she was always conscious of the inherent dangers of a woman walking alone at night.
She moved to the side as he approached, when suddenly she was knocked hard to the ground, the man on top of her and the foul stink of body odor all around.
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed. She twisted her head in an attempt to see him, but only caught part of a plastic mask.
Oh my God.
The man’s voice was a harsh whisper in her ear. “You listen to me, Judge Faraday. If you ever want to see Anthony Royce alive again, you will do exactly what I tell you.”
9
Logan walked into the HERO Force conference room, the sun shining brightly outside the wide windows. He’d already searched the Internet for information on Gemma while he had his morning coffee, coming up with one vital piece she’d left out herself.
She wasn’t just a lawyer. She was a judge, just like Royce, though she worked in civil court, not criminal.
Noah and Austin were sitting with Cowboy and Hawk. “How was Dubai?” asked Logan.
“Kicked some ass. Took some names. The usual,” said Austin. “Noah took a bullet in the ass.”
“Grazed my ass, dickhead. A bullet grazed my ass.”
“That’s gonna leave a scar,” said Austin.
Jax walked in, slamming the door behind him. Logan couldn’t help but notice he looked like shit. “As you know, Justice Royce was kidnapped yesterday. I am making it our mission to personally locate him and assure his safety. The FBI is working the case, but I don’t trust them to get the job done as well as my own men.”
Logan tapped his pen. “Maybe we can get them to cooperate with us, share information—”
Jax nodded curtly. “That would be nice. It would also be nice if I would sprout wings and shoot rainbows out of my ass, but that isn’t going to happen, either. Treat this like any other assignment. We bust our asses through any means necessary to find these motherfuckers and take them down.”
“Hawk,” said Cowboy. “You and Austin go to
Royce’s house and do a complete search. Any documents, anything. Interview his children. See what you can find out about motive.”
Hawk’s arms were crossed against his chest like a bouncer. “The FBI won’t appreciate the company.”
“Royce’s daughters are expecting you and will allow you into the house. If the feds don’t like it, amuse them with stories about your famous girlfriend.”
“Done.”
Cowboy turned to Noah. “You’re going with Jax and me to check on Stewart Cole, the plaintiff in the civil suit against us.”
“Civil suit?” asked Noah.
“Try to keep your ass out of the line of fire this time,” said Jax, ignoring Noah. He withdrew a computer from a leather bag and pushed it toward Logan. “This is Royce’s laptop. I want to know everything he knew. Find out who’s sending the threatening emails and anything else that might have been going on. It’s a knee-jerk reaction to think this is related to the HERO Force case and it might be, but it might be something else entirely.”
“What HERO Force case?” asked Noah.
“The one where Cowboy and I are being accused of murdering a member of HERO Force.”
Noah’s eyes got wide.
“Good. Glad we cleared that up,” said Jax.
Austin chuckled. “See that? Your ass was in the way again.”
Logan opened the computer. “Do you have a password for me?”
Jax handed him a sticky note. Logan typed it in and went to the email application. He whistled. “There are more than thirty thousand emails here.”
“All read, I hope.”
“Yeah, but not by me.” He closed the computer. “It’s going to take some time. Can I bring this home?”
Jax nodded. “We’re counting on you, Doc. We can’t get access to his court documents. We can’t get into his office. We’ve got nothing to go on but that laptop and whatever we find at his house.”
Seven hours later, Logan had organized the emails into folders using keywords, which eliminated a lot of the detritus. He was left with six thousand two hundred messages that needed to be read when he finally packed up his things and headed home for the night.
