by Dana Marton
No. He couldn’t let that happen. That would be irresponsible.
“We’re going to stop now,” he said.
“No,” she told him. Her fingers tightened around him in emphasis.
Okay, not yet. She was right. They were still in control. They could wait a little and stop later.
Her scent and the feel of her filled him completely. When she undid his belt buckle for better access, he lost his breath. She was a whiz with the zipper. She was a whiz with pretty much everything, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.
His most impatient body part sprang free. His pants, halfway down his thighs now, limited his movement. In the cramped storage room, they couldn’t lie down and stretch out comfortably. He felt as if they were playing some erotic version of Twister.
He went for her pants and tugged them down, wanting to make her feel as good as she made him feel. With one hand on her breast and another between her legs, he turned her and backed her up until she sat on his lap, with him kneeling behind her.
His hard need nestled against the smooth skin of her backside, the exquisite sensation filling him up with steam. She leaned her head back to rest it on his shoulder, offering her neck to his lips. At the same time, she rubbed her bottom against him.
“We can’t,” he begged on a raspy whisper. She was pushing him beyond his limits. But they could. The duffel bag he’d fished from under the bed in the other room hid a little present.
He had left the package of condoms at the bottom of the bag because they could be useful on their way out of the jungle. Condoms could keep an injury protected if they had to cross a river. They could also be used to collect water. They were elastic enough to make a sling out of for hunting, if he ran out of bullets. Condoms had enough uses that they were a standard part of survivor kits.
“Right.” She drew a slow, shuddering breath and lifted her head from his shoulder, leaning away from him. “This is beyond idiotic. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Don’t apologize.” His voice held a low rasp that hadn’t been there before. He quietly cleared his throat. “You’re an amazing woman. I—” What? He couldn’t help himself? He hated jerks who said things like that.
A real man could always help himself, always made sure his woman was safe, that he did what was best for her.
Not that Megan Cassidy was his woman.
He wanted to put some distance between them but he didn’t seem to be able to let her go. His arms wouldn’t release her.
He pressed a kiss to her nape, but instead of letting her go when he was done, he ended up scraping his teeth along her skin.
She trembled, swallowing a moan before it had a chance to become fully audible.
“Mitch?” The heat in her voice proved to be his undoing.
“I want to.” He didn’t breathe. “Tell me to go to hell.”
Instead, she slid back for more full body contact. His eyes crossed. He didn’t care. She had her back to him and it was dark. He didn’t have to worry about looking attractive. Or even sane. Which he obviously wasn’t just now.
He reached for the condom. “I found something in the other room,” he whispered.
She probably figured out what when she heard the crinkling sound of the packaging rip, because she made a noise that could only be described as grateful relief. She lifted away to give him room.
He sheathed himself, still not fully able to believe that they were going to do this. Now. Here.
“Your brother Jamie is going to shoot a hole in my head the size of a railroad tunnel when he finds out I touched his sister,” he said, half hoping that saying it out loud might knock some sense into him at the last second.
It didn’t.
“Might as well make it worth all the grief he’s going to give us,” Megan suggested practically.
The next second she was lowering herself onto his hardness.
He gripped her hips, stopped her when he was pressed against her entrance.
There was still time...
Then there wasn’t.
His body moved forward on its own accord, and he slid into her wet heat, slowly, to give her time to adjust.
If the room had exploded just then, he would have died a happy man. And that was saying something, because he would have left his mission incomplete, and he didn’t believe in that kind of thing.
She felt amazing. Perfect. Hot. Every move she made blew his mind, until his entire focus was narrowed to the friction between their bodies.
Pressure built. Tension escalated.
“Mitch,” she breathed his name a second before her inner muscles began convulsing around him, pushing him over the edge.
All he saw was white heat. All he could hear was his own heartbeat drumming inside his ears.
How did I get so lucky? he thought, as he held her tight, waiting for their heart rates to calm.
A shuffling sound in front of the door interrupted their bliss. “Did you hear that noise?” a surly voice asked.
The men had turned off the radio. The snoring had stopped.
Mitch went for his weapon. Megan moved, too, then stilled again, took his hand and pulled it forward, pressed it to the floor near her knee. He felt some kind of a latch.
It could be a latch door to a crawl space below the building. He ran his finger around the edges, looking for a handhold.
It was nailed down.
She slid off his lap. He missed her immediately, but he had no time to pause and think about that or what they’d done and what it had meant.
His knife was in his hand already, and he pried up the two large nails with the tip. He felt for the edges of the door, opened it, tossed the duffel bag down and lowered himself without even pulling up his pants all the way.
The doorknob wiggled.
He reached up and guided Megan down. She pulled the trapdoor closed behind her as she tumbled on top of him.
* * *
THEY CROUCHED NEXT TO each other silently. Megan’s whole body tingled. She could still feel Mitch’s hands on her skin. Back there, what had happened... Nobody had ever... She’d never felt... Wow.
She blinked hard, trying to refocus on their current situation. Moonlight shone through a gap in the wood boards that edged the crawl space to the right. Beyond that, everything else was shrouded in darkness. Neither of them moved. Not yet.
“Probably rats again,” a man said above them. “Can’t get rid of the stupid vermin for nothin’. How many times did I tell you idiots not to bring any food back here?”
Then she heard the door close.
Mitch rustled next to her, probably working his pants up. She’d done that before she’d slipped down after him. Now she dragged on her shirt, trying not to think about all the poisonous snakes, spiders, bugs and plants that might be all around them.
She shifted toward the light. Mitch’s hand shot out and held her back. He went first, taking on most of the danger.
Her brain still buzzed with pleasure. Her heart tickled as she took in his wide shoulders, silhouetted in front of her.
He was protecting her.
She hated when he did that. Still, she found it difficult to work up any indignation when she was still boneless from the mind-blowing sex they’d just had.
She drew a slow breath and nearly gagged when she caught a foul stench in the air. Something had crawled in here and died. That pretty much killed the last lingering remains of any romantic mood.
Thank God. Because she really needed to be fully present right now.
“Breathe through your mouth,” he whispered back some advice. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” So much better than fine, really. But now was not the time to get into that.
So what if he was taking over for a little while?
She’d always been the protector. The oldest kid in the family. She’d always been her mother’s helper, kept her little brothers clean and fed, bandaged their scrapes when they were younger. Kept them safe, which had been a f
ull-time job with the amazing amount of trouble they’d always managed to find.
Then when they didn’t need her quite so much, she’d found a job where she could keep other people safe.
Except, now her family needed her again. Although he wouldn’t admit it, though he’d pushed her away and kept the whole family at arm’s length, Jamie needed her support. And Billy needed her more than ever.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, just as boots crunched outside. A couple of men stopped right next to the building.
She froze and held her breath. So did Mitch. Any noise they made would be heard by the men. She wasn’t going to make a mistake now. Not when she was this close to reaching Billy.
Chapter Eleven
Megan could hear water running. The air still stank, this time with the sharp smell of ammonia. Gross. Somebody was relieving himself on the other side of the wooden boards that closed in the crawl space where they were hiding. Just great.
Her nerves hummed. Mitch put a steadying hand on her knee as if sensing her inner turmoil.
His warm palm heated her skin through the material of her pants. A comforting gesture that also brought back thoughts of what had just happened between them in that storage room.
Her breathing grew erratic. She made an effort to calm it.
If there’d ever been a time when she needed her full focus, this was it. She couldn’t afford distractions and complications. But then, why did it feel so good to have Mitch on her side?
Whoever was outside finished his business and walked away. After a minute, Mitch began moving. He made it to the opening and climbed out, but continued to crouch. She waited until he gave the all clear.
He was brushing spiderwebs from his clothes when she finally joined him.
She did the same. Yuck. She’d been living in the jungle long enough not to be scared of bugs, but she didn’t have to like it. “Anything bite you?”
“I don’t think so. You?” He moved forward, constantly scanning their surroundings.
She shook her head as she glanced back toward the narrow hole they’d climbed through. “I definitely wouldn’t want to do that twice.”
“You need a break?” He slowed.
“I need to find Billy.” She kept on going.
They sneaked forward, keeping close to the shadows, until they reached a spot where stacks of firewood covered the ground in front of them. The main building stood straight ahead, outlined against the sky. Only three of the windows were lit on their side. It looked like the party had ended. The don was probably settling in for the night. Or maybe he was already sleeping and the lights had been left on for his in-house guards.
“Let’s hope Billy and Zak are in there,” she said as she followed Mitch, since once again he’d taken the lead.
“They have to be. Don’t worry about anything now. We’re here.”
They rounded all the firewood and stopped in the cover of the last stack. The guards by the house didn’t look like they’d overimbibed like the rest. They seemed alert and up to the task. And well armed. The security was definitely heavier than at Juarez’s camp, and for a moment Megan wondered if this was standard procedure, or if the don felt uneasy about the presence of his captains at the compound and had tightened security for his own protection.
“Any ideas?” she whispered to Mitch.
“Let’s do a walk around first.” He stole forward, sticking to the shadows, of which there were plenty. Trees and shacks crowded Don Pedro’s headquarters.
The guard at the front of the house stood by a small fire that burned in a rusted steel drum. More for the smoke that kept the bugs away than for the heat, Megan suspected. The guard watching the side of the house was smoking a cigar and looking bored. The man in the back leaned against the wall to watch the jungle.
Mitch moved quietly in the cover of some bushes. She followed him, noticing a small window low to the ground. Not enough to let anyone in or out, just enough for some light and air. The main house had a basement.
She tugged Mitch’s sleeve and pointed. He acknowledged her with a nod. They checked out the fourth guard, who was cleaning his weapon, then crept back to the back of the building.
“Is there any way we could get in through that window?” Her instincts said if there were any prisoners in the house, they were kept in that basement.
“Not without some serious tools and a lot of noise. The wall is solid cement.”
Which meant they had to find another way to get in and out. One of the guards would have to be eliminated. Except shooting him would draw the others. A knife between the ribs would be much quieter, but for that they would have to get close without being seen, which would be difficult since they’d be out in the open.
“Poison dart?” A few months ago, she’d accompanied Umberto and a small team to one of the local villages and she’d seen a couple of old men hunt with them. A silent and effective weapon if one knew how to use it. Desperation had her considering every option, no matter how far-fetched.
“We could make the pipe and the dart, but do we have time to hunt around for the right frog to get the poison from?”
No. They would never find one in the dark jungle. “If we waited until daylight...”
“We have to make our move tonight. Zak’s hours are numbered. Don Pedro has no reason to keep the kid around. We have to work with the assumption that he’ll be executed first thing in the morning.”
Couldn’t argue with that logic. From what she’d seen of the way Juarez operated, enemies were dealt with swiftly in the jungle. Zak wasn’t her favorite person, but she didn’t want him dead, and she knew Mitch was set on his course. The breakout had to be tonight. Billy’s, too, then, since once Mitch rescued Zak, the camp would be in an uproar. They had to do this together.
She drew a slow breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. She’d never been this frazzled on a mission before. She’d never worked with stakes this high. This was personal. Her brother’s life was on the line.
Focus. She’d never had to remind herself to do that before. But now distractions surrounded her. Thoughts of her brother. Mitch’s presence. Yet she appreciated that Mitch was with her more and more with every passing minute.
He really did make a good partner. He made a fabulous lover, too, but she didn’t want to think about that just now. Someday, when they were all safely away from here, maybe they would talk about what was going on between them. It felt like something.
Especially when he caught her hand and held it gently. “Promise me one thing.”
She raised an eyebrow. If he wanted her to stay behind and provide cover... No way. Billy was in there. She was going in.
“Promise me you won’t get hurt,” he said instead.
He cared. Her heart melted a little.
She cared about him, too. More than she would ever admit. That was a straight highway to heartache. They might never see each other again once their missions here were over. “I’ll try my best,” she whispered. “If you do the same.”
She wanted to kiss him. Instead, she pulled her hand from his and refocused on the task. She stared at the back wall of the house, as if looking at it long enough would enable her to see through it.
“Look up,” he whispered into her ear after a minute, his warm breath tickling her skin.
She did. A kapok tree stood near them with a bunch of lianas, jungle vines, hanging in every direction.
Her brain caught up with his in half a second. “You think we can Tarzan it?”
He grinned and they crawled backward, straightening only when they reached the taller bushes that surrounded the kapok. Then he gave her a boost up the tree.
Climbing in the dark wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done. She did her best to watch out for tarantulas and snakes, hoping their luck held out a little longer. She bit her lip when her foot slipped. But Mitch braced her bottom and she didn’t fall. She ignored the tingles his touch sent through her and got back to business, balancing on a side
branch when she reached the right height.
Mitch inched out onto the tree limb behind her and began testing lianas that hung from above. He picked one that didn’t reach all the way to the ground but was long enough to reach the roof. “What do you think?”
When she nodded, he tested the thing, putting his weight on it little by little. It held.
She moved forward to add her weight, but he held her back.
“We’re not going together.”
Of course not—he wanted to go first. She glared at him in the dark but didn’t say anything. They both had a thing for protecting others. She got it.
He kissed her, hot and hard, before he swung, leaving her startled and swooning. She barely heard him land lightly on the roof.
The guard didn’t even look up.
Mitch tossed the liana back.
She grabbed it and swung without hesitation. He caught her silently and lowered her onto the roof. Held her for a second as the liana swung back to the tree. They couldn’t tie it to the roof for their exit. The guard could look up at the sky at any time, see it and realize that something was amiss.
They stood still for a second, pressed against each other. Awareness buzzed along her nerve endings. She wanted a kiss. From the look in his eyes, so did he.
They had a lot to do first. She slipped to her feet and inched away from him, careful not to make any noise. They kept low as they moved along the roof, looking for a way in. The balcony in the front, she thought, just as Mitch turned to head that way.
The compound had quieted by this point. Even the cantina, which they could see from up here, looked deserted. Strings of lights lit up the main walkways, the bare bulbs surrounded by clouds of bugs. Some of the generators had been turned off as people had gone to bed, so the constant hum was quieter than it had been earlier, but it was still loud enough to drown out most of the jungle noises. Outside the compound, the woods were dark and ominous. Predators hunted in the night, sneaking around with deadly intent, just as she and Mitch were doing.
They stopped once the balcony was directly below them. The windows were dark. This time, she went first. He held her hands and lowered her until her feet touched the railing. She made her way down from there on her own. He followed her, swiftly and silently.
