Broken

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “I do,” Force said. “Jethro was MI6 and knows how to jump.”

  “He’s a professor now, so jumping isn’t in his plan. Why he left MI6, I don’t care. But he’s out, and from what I’ve seen, he wants to stay out.” Wolfe wasn’t putting his life in the hands of a guy he didn’t trust.

  Force limped around the table and switched off the light, heading into the main hub area. “He has no problem blowing up a drug facility, so long as you make sure civilians are nowhere around.”

  “You already talked to him,” Wolfe drawled.

  “Yep, and he has a contact that can help extract you two if you don’t get killed.” Force whistled for the dog, who came running from Nari’s office, a pink high heel in his mouth. “Damn it.” Force yanked the shoe free and turned it over to reveal bite marks. “How did you get this?”

  Roscoe sat and panted happily.

  Wolfe paused. “What the hell is Roscoe still doing here? I told Dana to take him with her.”

  “Guess she’s not the obedient type,” Force returned.

  Oh, that was going to change. Wolfe scooped Kat up from the top of his desk. “It’s too hot to wear a jacket, buddy, so there’s no pocket for you to ride in.” He set the kitten on his shoulder.

  His older burner phone buzzed from his back. He stiffened and pulled it out, giving a nod to Force.

  Force’s eyes lit with interest.

  Wolfe set the phone on his desk and pressed the speaker button. “Gary. I thought we were done.”

  Silence crackled for a couple of moments. “As did I, my friend. Imagine my surprise at seeing you show up at Mr. Frank Spanek’s residence.”

  Nails scraped over Wolfe’s skin. Had there been a camera in Frank’s apartment? He hadn’t had time to conduct a thorough search before the bomb had detonated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maybe Gary was just on a fishing expedition.

  “Yeah, you do. I have to tell you, the blue hat wasn’t for you.”

  Damn. Wolfe had been wearing a blue baseball cap. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Who was your friend? His face was hidden by a cap, too.” Gary’s background was silent as usual, giving no clue as to his whereabouts.

  “I don’t have any friends,” Wolfe retorted, jerking his head when the kitten sneezed in his ear.

  Gary chuckled. “Oh, I’m your friend. So is Dana. How is the lovely Dana?”

  “You’re not my friend.” Wolfe eyed Force, who motioned for him to keep Gary talking. “With both Nelson and Spanek dead, you’re going to have a difficult time moving the heroin, right? It was a mistake to take them both out.”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Gary drawled.

  Wolfe ground his back teeth together. “You know the entire government is looking for you, right? They have been since the fiasco in Afghanistan. Some pretty powerful people are not happy you tried to blow up a nice country club.”

  “I’m pretty good at staying under the radar,” Gary said, sounding unconcerned.

  Wolfe’s ribs ached, and his temper threatened to blow. “I wish you had the balls to meet up with me. Just the two of us.”

  “What fun would that be? Death should be slow and erotic.” There was a shuffling sound as Gary apparently moved around.

  Wolfe angled his head, trying to hear better. There had to be background noise somewhere. The more he got Gary to talk, the better Force could profile him. Images of the crime scene wouldn’t leave him alone, so he went in that direction. “Was death slow and erotic for the woman in Frank’s apartment?”

  “It was beautiful,” Gary breathed. “She wasn’t as tough as the journalist, but she made it worth my time.”

  Wolfe scrubbed his hands across his eyes. “There was a lot of blood. How did you keep them quiet?”

  Gary was quiet as if remembering. “Gags do wonders. Frank didn’t take long, so he didn’t get a chance to make too much noise. The woman? Well, now. She didn’t seem to enjoy the gag as much as I did.”

  Wolfe wanted to hurl. “Who was the woman?” As far as he knew, the police hadn’t made an identification yet.

  “She worked with Frank and her name started with a B. Or maybe a P. Her name didn’t really matter to me.”

  Wolfe wanted to reach through the phone and rip out Gary’s jugular. “Tell me you have some regret for killing them. For killing our team, the men who trusted you.”

  Gary clicked his tongue. “Wolfe, you just don’t get it. I’m going to have fun with Dana, a lot of it, and I’m not going to have a touch of regret there, either.” He ended the call.

  Wolfe turned fully toward Force, fire in his belly, yet careful not to dislodge the kitten. “Well?”

  Force slowly nodded. “Yeah. He’s ape-shit crazy.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dana had spent the afternoon tangled in the disaster Wolfe was planning, trying to figure a way out. When Mal had offered her a ride home, she’d jumped at the chance, wanting some time to think. Instead, she’d been stewing. Finally, around midnight, she’d gone to bed with anger instead of concern heating her.

  A while later, the front door opened, and Wolfe’s heavy footsteps echoed through the living room to the bedroom.

  She sat up and turned on the lamp. “Do you make that noise on purpose?”

  He lounged in the doorway, his broad shoulders taking up all the available space, his expression unreadable. “Huh?”

  “The stomping.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “I know you can move silently, so do you make noise on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  That made sense. She was trying to find the right words to persuade him to avoid the suicide mission, so it took her a heartbeat to realize he was staring at her without smiling. Her head tilted before her thoughts caught up. Oh. Was it time to fight? “What’s your problem?”

  “My problem?” he repeated, his tone silky.

  She blinked, her central nervous system reacting to him automatically. “Yes.”

  “My problem is that I gave you explicit instructions to keep Roscoe with you at all times, especially if I am not around.” The corded muscles in his neck actually bulged beneath the bruises. “You failed to keep Roscoe with you and came home alone.”

  “Oh please,” she muttered.

  He drew himself up as if she’d punched him. “You purposely ignored the rules.”

  Rules? Had he just said rules? “Yes, I did.” Her chin lifted and she met his gaze without flinching. “Roscoe was having a good time playing in Nari’s office, and I let him be.”

  Wolfe tucked his thumbs in his jeans pockets in an inexplicably threatening move. “That’s not it, and you know it.”

  Saying nuh-uh would just sound juvenile. She took a deep breath, wishing she was wearing jeans instead of a pale yellow baby-doll teddy. “You do not know what was in my mind at the time.”

  “I know exactly what was in your mind.” He remained patiently in place, watching her. “You’re ticked I’m going on that mission, and you decided to play by your own rules. Teach me a lesson.”

  “No,” she denied. Okay, maybe. Roscoe was having a good time with the bone in Nari’s office, and Dana might’ve had a so there moment. “I don’t see how you can be irritated when you won’t listen to me.”

  “You’re digging a hole, baby.”

  Her lungs felt like she’d swallowed a space heater. She tried to swallow over the lump in her throat, acutely aware she was out of her depth. “Fine, but that was only part of it. Roscoe really was having fun.” She scrambled out of the bed and stood to face him, no longer hiding. “I don’t want you to parachute drop into some hills crawling with armed criminals all alone.”

  “Okay.”

  “Wait—what?”

  His gaze wandered over her baby doll to her bare feet and up her long legs, pausing at her breasts, then returning to her face. “Jethro is going with me.”

  Her entire body heated at his look. “Wait. The British professor
?” she shrieked.

  He winced. “Lower the decibels, would you?”

  “Oh, you’re gonna get kicked.” It was too bad she didn’t have on boots.

  Wolfe’s gaze heated. “First, if Force trusts him, then I trust him. He’s former MI6, and apparently he knows his stuff.” He held up a hand when she started to argue. “Second, this is what I do. I’m good at it, and I will come back.”

  “And third?” she snapped, her ears turning hot. Very.

  “Third? This is not what you do, so you will follow all directions until I take out the guy who wants to take us out. It’s simple. Yes, you’re a good journalist. Yes, I understand that your job entails some danger, which I will try to lessen. But this maniac after us, after you, is coming because of me. That makes this my op.”

  God, he was sexy when he got all bossy while trying to sound reasonable. “When does it get to be my op?” she asked.

  “Next time. Maybe.” He didn’t sound convincing.

  She drew in air. “Is this when we discuss my telling your team about your murder board?”

  He crossed his arms, and those impressive muscles flexed. “Well, now. I was pissed about that, but turns out that was nowhere near as irritating as you leaving Roscoe at the office and putting yourself in danger.”

  She was a fair person, so she gave him the truth. “I’m not sorry I told the team, because I want to protect you, too. As for Roscoe, he was fine and I was fine with Mal next door, so maybe you should just relax.”

  “Relax?”

  The way he said it sent shivers down her body. She tried to say something, anything, to lessen her challenge, but words died in her throat.

  He watched her, his expression knowing. “Are you about done being a brat?”

  It was only a semi-fair question. “If I’m not?”

  He straightened. “You’re not gonna like the answer to that question.”

  Her chin lifted. “Are you done being bossy?”

  “You’re also not gonna like the answer to that question.”

  She cleared her throat. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Are you in or out with this relationship?” His deep tone wound through the silent night.

  She blinked, caution pouring through her. What a surprising question at the moment. “I’m in.”

  “Then it’s my way, Dana. No compromise when it comes to safety so long as Rock is on the loose and gunning for us. Either you tell me you understand that, or I’ll make sure you understand that.”

  Now her mouth gaped open. “Is that a threat?” Her temper stirred.

  “It’s a fact. Tell me you get me.” He moved toward her then, sleek and sure, his grace obviously back in place.

  “Oh, I get you, but I’m not saying I agree.” She lifted her chin, her body rioting at his nearness.

  “You’ll let me handle danger from now on. I like your sleepwear.” He slid his thumbs beneath both straps and drew them down her arms.

  “It’s called a baby doll,” she said, desire flashing hot and bright inside her. Fast.

  “It’s pretty.” He yanked the soft material down to her waist, his former gentleness gone. “But not as pretty as you.”

  Her nipples hardened beneath his gaze, her breasts feeling heavy. Needy. “I’m mad at you.”

  “You’re not mad. You’re scared.” He flattened his hands over her shoulders and caressed down both arms and back up, twisting his fingers and brushing her nipples.

  A jolt shot through her, and her legs wobbled. “You’re insightful now?”

  “I’ve always been insightful. Now I’m choosing to share my observations with you.” He lifted her, tossing her easily back onto the bed.

  She fell back on her elbows, her breasts bare, her tiny yellow panties hardly covering her. “You probably think this authoritarian thing you have going on is sexy.”

  He ripped his shirt over his head. “Never gave it a thought.”

  Her mouth watered. All right. Now that was sexy. Hard, smooth, sleek lines—the scarred body of a warrior sporting fresh bruises.

  His gaze devoured her, giving her a sense of feminine power. “You’re getting all of me, Dana.”

  “It’s about time,” she said, meaning it.

  * * *

  Wolfe kicked off his boots and jeans, wanting to get his mouth on that tiny yellow scrap of material. How he could go so quickly from pissed off to amused to irritated to turned on was a complete mystery, and the only answer was Dana Mulberry. She was going to drive him crazy, or crazier than he already was, and he was all in. Fully nude, he grabbed a condom from the bed table, and tossed it on the bed.

  Lust coursed through him like a forest fire out of control. He forced himself to go slow and enjoy her, wrapping his hands around her small ankles and then gliding them up her calves, over her knees, along her thighs. Dipping his head, he nibbled her hip bone, wandering across her abdomen to the other hip.

  She held her breath, her abdomen tight.

  He grinned and planted his mouth right where they both wanted it, sucking hard.

  She cried out and arched against him, her clit safely in his mouth. He released her and then tore the panties off with his teeth, returning to what was rapidly becoming his favorite treat. She was wet and ready, but his control wasn’t firmly in place, so he wanted her wetter and more ready.

  He slipped one finger inside her, and her body sucked him in, surrounding him with wet heat. His groan was heartfelt. Desire sparked down his spine to land in his balls. He licked her again, inserting another finger, giving her enough pressure to drive her nuts and drawing out her pleasure until she couldn’t take any more.

  She gyrated against him, making incoherent noises. “Wolfe. Please.”

  He crisscrossed his fingers inside her, reached up and lightly pinched one nipple, then sucked her clit back into his mouth. She flew apart against him, mewling, impressive waves taking her body. He eased her down, smiled at her soft mumbling, and then stood.

  She made another sound, a sweet one, when he rolled on the condom. Then she reached for him.

  The sight of her doing so, of her wanting him, accepting him, would stay with him forever. He grasped her now pliable thighs and widened them, sliding his knees onto the bed.

  He gripped her hips, his fingers extending across her ass and his thumbs tucked into her hipbones, lifting her lower half off the bed. “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.

  She did so, balancing her weight on her shoulders, her sunshine-colored hair spread out on his bed and her butt in the air. He kept her gaze, pressing against her entrance, slowly and surely penetrating her. Pulsating wet heat surrounded him, stretching and easing as he kept pushing, his balls drawing up tight.

  Finally, he’d completely impaled her, groin to groin. Hunger filled her luminous eyes. She was open and vulnerable to him, but the feet pressing into his back held strength. “You okay?” he asked. “Your shoulders and neck?”

  “I’m perfect,” she whispered, so beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  Yeah. She was. He tightened his grip, enjoyed the widening of her eyes, and then pulled out to power back inside her. She gasped and tightened around him, her hands digging into the comforter.

  Oh yeah. She was ready.

  So he let himself go. Hard and fast, he hammered into her, holding tight to her hips and pulling her in to meet his thrusts. Her breasts bounced and he watched, entranced.

  She tossed her head on the comforter, her neck straining, the bedclothes bunching up around her. “Wolfe,” she gasped, her internal walls clinching him in a hold so fierce his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. “More. Give me all of you.”

  He gave her more, driving fast, the sound of flesh against flesh mixing with their panting breaths.

  A fusillade of sparks rioted through his abdomen, making him swell.

  He reached between them and stroked her swollen clit, pressing at the last second and watching her go over. Her eyes glazed, her body tightened,
and she cried out, thrusting her head and gripping him so hard he’d never get free.

  Her orgasm lasted forever, pulling him farther inside and caressing his hard length. Finally, she subsided, her body going lax.

  His control, what was left, snapped. He pounded harder, holding her right where he wanted her, the feelings too powerful to bear. Live coils unwound in him, and he exploded, the climax splintering him for a moment into nothingness. He came back to the moment in a second of pure release, holding her tightly against him, even his legs trembling.

  His head dropped, and he panted, his heart clobbering his bruised ribs. He felt no pain.

  Slowly, he withdrew and set her gently on the bed, turning to take care of the condom. His heart was filled with her, and the idea of anything happening to her made his hands shake as he returned to the bed and turned her over onto her stomach.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her body limp, her voice muffled and content.

  “Taking care of you.” He straddled her, careful to keep his weight off her, and reached down to knead her neck.

  She moaned, her little butt wiggling against him as she snuggled into place. He gritted his teeth to keep from taking her again so soon. “A massage?” she mumbled.

  “You were on your shoulders,” he said, working out a couple of knots. “I don’t want you to be sore tomorrow.”

  She chuckled, and her smooth body moved against him again. “Oh, I’m going to be sore, but it’s a good sore.” She sighed and brought her hands in to rest beneath her cheek. “This is nice, Wolfe.”

  Nice. That was him. He brushed her hair out of the way and leaned over to kiss the nape of her neck. “I just want you ready for round two.” By the end of the night, there’d be no question that she belonged to him.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Dana couldn’t think of another argument to change Wolfe’s mind as she sat in the Deep Ops office after several hours of mission planning, the afternoon heat heavy in the room. Or rather, of listening to several hours of mission planning. He was in control and definitely sexy as he outlined the mission parameters, but man, she didn’t want him to go.