Calculated Collision

by C. A. Szarek

  Lee gave a small smile.

  He sat up and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong? Does your side hurt?”

  “No. Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

  “I do worry about you.”

  She closed her eyes as unwanted emotion rolled over her. The sincere look on his face was why she didn’t do this. “I should go. Find another bed.” Words fell out of her mouth. Words that Lee didn’t mean.

  He glanced at the nightstand on his side of the bed. “It’s four o’clock in the morning. Why now?”

  She shrugged under his arm. “I just should.”

  He frowned, but kissed her temple.

  Lee told herself not to melt into him. Commanded herself to move away. But she didn’t. Couldn’t.

  When silence settled over them, Nate shook her shoulders gently. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she croaked.

  “Bullshit, Lee. Talk to me. Please.”

  “I want you,” she blurted.

  A smile played at his lips. “Right. You look like you want sex right now. Something has you freaked out. What is it?”

  It’s you. How I feel about you. But she’d cut her tongue out before she said those words out loud. Lee wrapped her arms around him and rushed into his chest, burying her face against his neck.

  Nate sighed and pulled her closer, rubbing her bare back in large, soothing circles.

  She closed her eyes against his warmth, fighting tears.

  Really?

  God, you’re a pussy, Selena Dawson.

  He held her as the first moisture leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Lee sniffled. She blinked, but her vision blurred and more tears flowed.

  Nate didn’t acknowledge what he could surely hear, and for that she was grateful. The thought of him seeing her as weak twisted her stomach into knots.

  “Angel, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Really. I’m glad to be here with you.” The words rushed out of her mouth before Lee could censor them, but at least she wasn’t looking at him. Heat crept up her neck and she buried her face deeper against him.

  “I’m glad you’re here, too. I meant it when I said I missed you.”

  She crushed her eyes shut. Lee had missed him, too. She couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t look at him and admit he did something to her. Made her feel again.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Nate whispered, as if he’d read her mind. “I just wanted you to know.”

  “Thanks for listening to me at the apartment.” The rushed statement made her heart pound. She needed a subject change. Now.

  “You got me out alive.”

  They made eye contact and words dissolved when she saw the tenderness in his eyes. “I…couldn’t let anything happen to you.” The truth fell from her lips.

  Nate kissed her, pulling her even closer.

  Lee melted into the heat of his mouth moving over hers, leaning into his muscled chest.

  His nipples teased hers as they brushed, leaving her achy as desire made her core throb. How could she want him so much? Over the last three days, they’d already been together more times than she could count.

  “Seems like something I should be saying to you,” Nate breathed against her mouth.

  It took a minute for the passionate haze to clear her brain so Lee could make sense of his words. She smiled, her lips still flush to his. “I’m the one with the gun.”

  He laughed and pressed tiny kisses all over her face. “In New York. I grew up in Texas with a cop for a dad. I know how to shoot, angel.”

  “I’ll remember that, in case.”

  Nate nipped her bottom lip and she slanted her mouth into his. The tease became another heated kiss that left them shaking in each other’s arms.

  “You do that,” he whispered as he laid her down into the bed and rose above her.

  She didn’t resist him, opening her thighs and inviting him to come closer, slip into her. Lee already burned for him.

  “God, I want you.” His voice was rough, emotional.

  Her stomach flipped, but she ignored unwelcome feelings.

  Focus on the physical. Lust. You want him too. Show him.

  She reached between their bodies and encircled his erection. Dragged her fingers up and down the length of him, teasing his tip.

  He threw his head back and moaned as she wrapped her hand around him, starting light strokes. Every noise he emitted made her sex ache and throb for him.

  “Have me. Fuck me, Nate.”

  One corner of his mouth shot up. “Oh, angel. You still think we’re just fucking?” He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his mouth and lavishing kisses on her knuckles. His gaze remained locked with hers.

  Lee shivered at the intensity she saw there. The tenderness, heat and emotions she refused to name.

  Nate gripped his erection without looking away. Positioned himself at her centre and filled her with one powerful thrust forward. “I’m sorry you’re confused,” he grunted. “But I’ll show you. I promise. This isn’t fucking. This is more.”

  I know. That’s what scares the shit out of me.

  Once again, Lee couldn’t voice the words floating around in her head.

  She whimpered when he propelled forward, picking up the pace like he knew she wanted. Needed.

  He could please her without effort or thought. That scared her, too.

  Nate’s mouth found hers again. He kissed her into oblivion, moving his tongue with his hips as he explored her, possessed her. His hands roved her heavy breasts as their bodies rocked in rhythm.

  Their mouths stayed fused as Lee’s orgasm built slowly, powerful waves of pleasure rolling over, sucking her down and pushing her up. There was no urgency, just a consistent sensation as the ride made her feel good.

  Intensity swirled around them as Nate’s thrusts took her higher. The typhoon hit for them both at the same time, and Lee broke the seal of their lips, throwing her head back and screaming his name.

  She tightened her arms and legs around him as her thighs shook, her inner muscles taut, contracting and relaxing of their own accord.

  He grunted and buried his face against her shoulder. His cock pulsed inside her, and they both moaned when Lee shifted against him, rocking under his weight.

  She caressed his cheek and pressed her lips to his. He took control, kissing her until her toes curled and her body lit up from the inside out, even though she’d just had the climax of her life.

  The kiss continued until he slipped from her body and pulled her closer. Nate rolled to his back and took her with him, fitting her against him.

  Perfect.

  As if she belonged beside him like this. Belonged to him. Legs entwined. Her cheek to his chest.

  Lee squeezed her eyes shut, willing tears away.

  No. This isn’t fucking.

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’ve got good news and bad, whaddya want first?” Cole Lucas’ deep voice startled her, even though it was good to hear from her old partner.

  “Hold on. I’m gonna put you on speaker so Nate can hear you too.”

  Lee’s heart kicked up a notch through the pleasantries the two men exchanged. She didn’t want to wait on whatever Lucas had to tell her, even for the sake of manners.

  A baby’s cry broke through their conversation. “Crap, gimme a sec.”

  “Lucas, we don’t have all day,” Lee called. Irritation flared. She looked around the living room of the big house. It was cold outside, but the bright afternoon winter sun lit up the vast room. Light flowed in through five large windows.

  She winced. They might be safe—sorta—since no one knew where they were, but the whole house was too open for her liking. Huge, too. Probably about three thousand square feet. A lot of ground to cover if they were attacked. On the other hand, size could be an advantage—places to run, disappear.

  “Sorry, Micah’s crawling all over the place and he bumped into the couch. I
t’s okay, buddy.” Lucas’s six-month-old son was close to the phone now, cooing and babbling. He didn’t sound upset.

  “He okay?” she asked. She wasn’t heartless, after all.

  “He’s great. So fricking cute. I’ll send you new pics. He looks like me, but he has Andi’s eyes.” The former FBI agent murmured to his son and the baby giggled.

  Nate threw her a grin that made her body flush and scooted to the end of the cushion on the couch.

  She stood by him, but they weren’t touching. Lee turned her back slightly and fought the urge to close her eyes. Dylan’s big brown ones flashed into her mind and she shut them out.

  I can never have that again.

  Lee ignored the feeling of loss at the memory of her three-year-old son combined with the pregnancy she’d lost two weeks after he and Russ had died.

  It felt fresh suddenly. Painful. Her gut ached.

  She tried not to think of Dylan. Ever. Next to impossible, but one of the reasons she kept herself busy, so she didn’t have time to think. Remember. Grieve.

  He’d be nine now.

  It’d been easier when she’d been drinking.

  Oh, God. Stop. Right now.

  What was worse? Memories of her son or the baby that could’ve never been?

  Lee had been at her desk in the Dallas FBI office when pain in her lower belly had doubled her over. Her boss had called 9-1-1 and she’d been rushed to the hospital.

  Pregnant.

  It’d been a tubal pregnancy. No more than four or five weeks along, it wouldn’t have been viable anyway.

  Emergency surgery had left her with one ovary and a damaged fallopian tube. They’d had to remove the ovary and tube containing the pregnancy. Doctors said she wouldn’t be able to conceive again.

  But it’d been Russ’ child. Her last link to the husband she’d just lost. Lee had mourned all over again.

  She’d started drinking the day she’d been released from the hospital. Kept drinking. Until her disaster in Dallas.

  Lee still went to meetings from time to time in New York, but only when she couldn’t dig herself out of whatever hole she’d got into. She really had no one to talk to about it.

  Not that I want to. Not that I ever would.

  No one in her unit—including Clint Downs—had a clue. Liv knew—full disclosure of the DWI and her progress was a part of taking Lee on—but the Special Agent supervisor was nothing if not discreet.

  Lee was alone in her own head. It was better that way. That way she didn’t drag anyone else down with her shit.

  Alcoholic.

  The word would haunt her for the rest of her life.

  She hadn’t had a drink in over two years. Most of the time, she wasn’t even tempted. Beer was easy to resist—it only resulted in mild dry mouth. If it was a bottle of Jack… If her hands shook to hold it and her tongue begged for it, Lee hurried her ass to a meeting.

  One handy thing about being in a city of eight million people was that AA meetings were everywhere.

  Cole Lucas’ baby giggled. Teasing. Torturing. It was like background noise in her mind, mixed with Dylan’s laugh.

  Not that she’d ever wanted another child. She couldn’t replace her son like that. He’d been her heart. Her life.

  Lee averted her gaze from Nate.

  Another reason she couldn’t stay with him long term. He’d never be a father. She couldn’t give him a child even if she wanted to.

  What the hell are you thinking?

  “Anyway.” Lucas’ voice yanked her from her own mind—damn good thing.

  “Spit it out,” Lee snapped.

  Cole laughed. “You don’t like me holding you in suspense? It’s Saturday. I’m not supposed to be working. Not even on call this weekend.”

  She growled and Nate laughed.

  “You’re not working. You watched a damn video. What a time suck.” She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her.

  Nate smirked.

  “Oh, all right. Don’t tell me you’re no fun anymore, Dawson. You were always fun. Where’s my old partner?”

  “Your old partner is going to fly to Texas and kick your ass.”

  “Language, language. There’re little ears present,” Lucas said, but amusement wrapped his words.

  Lee groaned and Nate flashed a grin.

  “Well, the good news is I recognised your shooter.”

  “And the bad news?” Nate asked.

  “It’s Caselli.”

  Shock threatened to bowl her over, and Lee had to lock her knees to stay on her feet. “No fu— ‘Effing way.” She tightened her grip on the prepaid cell until it creaked a protest.

  Nate arched a brow at the altered curse, but his face was pale. “The man himself?” His voice shook so she moved closer.

  He pulled her down next to him on the couch and threw his arm around her shoulders. Lee pressed into him.

  “Yup,” Lucas said.

  “Are you sure?” Lee asked.

  “I watched it a dozen times. But yeah, I’m sure. I can’t believe it, either. But it’s him. Tony fricking Caselli.”

  “Himself,” Nate said.

  “Yup.” Lucas’ repetition didn’t make it sink in for Lee, even as he continued speaking. “You know how elusive he normally is, too. All the time I was under, I only got to see him a few times. As you know from all the pictures we’ve taken over the years we’ve worked this, there aren’t that many of Tony, Jr.”

  Lucas was right. Lee would have to dig through files and remind herself what Caselli looked like. She wouldn’t likely recognise him if he passed her in the street. Not good. “Why the hell—heck, sorry—would he kill Angelo Fiato himself? He’s got an army of thugs!”

  “I guess that’s what you need to find out, old partner.”

  Lee and Nate exchanged a look.

  “Hey, there’s one awesome thing about all this,” Cole said.

  “What?” Lee asked at the same time Nate said, “You got him, now.”

  “Right. For years we failed to prove him personally guilty of wrongdoing. You caught his hand in the cookie jar, Dawson. On. Video.”

  Holy shit. They were right.

  This could break their case.

  “One little murder can make everything else snowball,” Lucas said then cleared his throat. “Sorry, Nate. I know the lawyer was your friend. No offence.”

  “None taken,” Nate said.

  Lee almost didn’t hear him. Chaos spun her thoughts. They might have Caselli on video, but he was practically wearing a disguise. They needed someone other than Lucas to ID him. She needed a plan. Now. “I need to call Downs.”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Crane, I’ll tell your brother you’re good, dude.”

  “Thanks,” Nate muttered. He appeared deep in thought, too.

  “Hey, Lee.”

  Lee paused, her finger hovering over the end button. “Yeah?”

  “Stay safe. And get this bas—jerk.”

  She snorted and glanced at Nate as the call disconnected. “What does it matter? Kid’s six months old. He can’t recognise a cuss word.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, but we don’t want his first word to be fuck.”

  Lee laughed too, shaking her head. “Right. Lucas likes that word way too much, so it’s a possibility.”

  Nate grinned, but his expression sobered. “Caselli,” he breathed.

  She sucked in a breath and nodded. “I know. Makes me wanna look at case file photos. I need to get a good look at his face again. It’s been a while. I have to be able to recognise him.”

  “I don’t disagree, but we can’t go anywhere. And so much for a short phone call…”

  “I know, but we needed to know. Ours is prepaid, and he called from a landline. We’re probably okay. I’ll see if Clint can email me an encrypted file to personal email or something. I need to tell him what’s going on so the team can get on this. Shit. Just… Shit.”

  His chest rose and fell as if he, too, needed a few deep breaths.
But Nate gave a curt nod. “Angel, it’s still gonna be okay. It doesn’t matter who the shooter was. Just that you get ’em.”

  Lee couldn’t look away. How could he be so calm? If anything, he should be more rattled at finding out the Caselli killed his friend. Yet he was trying to make her feel better? Her heart fluttered and she wanted to kiss him.

  “Why would Caselli take the risk of getting caught, being out in the open, killing Angelo himself? What did Angelo have on him?” Nate’s tone was thoughtful, his head cocked to one side.

  Her plan to climb onto his lap fell to the wayside. Letting lust cloud her head was a bad idea anyway. Lee had a few calls to make and plans to formulate. She only regretted she wouldn’t be in on the execution of it all, because she had to stay with Nate. Not that she didn’t want to be with him. She did. Therein lay the problem.

  Oh, shut the hell up.

  Lee considered telling him she couldn’t discuss the open investigation with him, but Nate wasn’t just anybody. He was as involved in this case as she was. Not only was he a witness in his friend’s death, but he was also familiar with the crime boss.

  He squeezed her against his side when she didn’t answer right away. “Well?”

  “Angelo Fiato was cooperating with our investigation.”

  Nate nodded, but quirked an eyebrow. “That can mean a thousand different things.”

  “He admitted to covering up financial crimes for Caselli. We confirmed money laundering and some tax fraud. Fiato wasn’t his accountant, but worked closely with Caselli’s money management team—two of whom were also recently murdered—and Fiato was involved in the exchanging of major funds—millions. Of course, he got a cut, which is how we caught him. We got him dead to rights, and he turned when confronted.”

  Nate frowned. “Oh, ‘Lo.” The sadness in his expression made it hard to breathe, but Lee restrained herself from touching him.

  Case. Think about the case.

  He needs to know.

  “We’re not the only division on this. White Collar has a few teams studying Caselli’s financials, specifically. They’re trying to reignite the RICO case that blew up a few years ago.”

  “RICO? Most of those cases don’t hold any water. They’re more a pain in the ass than anything else.”