Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4)

by Sidney Bristol

  The bedroom door opened. She caught a bit of movement and figured it was Melody again.

  If the woman asked her to sit down one more time Priscilla was going to lose it. She couldn’t sit. Not now. They were in danger. People had died. And it wasn’t over.

  Why couldn’t the other woman understand that?

  “Pris.”

  The unexpected barking of her name made her wheel around.

  Brenden stood in the room, the door shut.

  He pointed at the carpet in front of him. “Get over here.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” The sudden surge of irritation was new where he was concerned.

  Relief at his presence was quickly followed irritation.

  He was okay, and he was there.

  But she still wasn’t going to allow him to bark orders at her. Which made the whole wanting to hug him a problem. She couldn’t cross the room to him without obeying that silly order. And she was stubborn enough to dig her heels in over it even if it tortured her a bit.

  For a moment they stood there, her glaring, him giving her that stony face look that told her nothing.

  In the end he moved first, lumbering around the bed to where she stood.

  “Come here.” His voice was gentler. He cupped her shoulders and tugged her toward him.

  Priscilla dug her heels in and remained where she was, even though she wanted nothing more than to reassure herself he was okay.

  Brenden’s hands slid around to her back, and he tugged on her hair until she tipped her chin up to look at him.

  “You aren’t the boss of me,” she said.

  “You’re right. I’m not. I did get you to stop pacing.”

  She frowned at him harder. What was he up to?

  “What are you obsessing about? Melody said you haven’t hardly spoken or done anything.” His big hand rubbed her back, pressing into the knots, working them out.

  “If I’d have just handed over the money, none of this would have happened.” She tipped her chin up and looked into Brenden’s dark eyes. “That security guard would be alive. The flight attendant would be alive.”

  They wouldn’t have met.

  No one would know about the expired drug scam.

  There wouldn’t be a team of killers chasing them.

  “Those two people are dead because of me,” she whispered.

  Brenden took her hands in his, lifted them to his lips and kissed her knuckles on either hand. “You can’t keep thinking like that. It’s going to destroy you if you do. Take it from me.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. The brief details he’d confided in her didn’t begin to touch on what he’d really gone through. She knew that because she’d done the same thing.

  “Come in here. Let me look at your head.” He turned and led her into the master bath, flipping on the vanity lights.

  Priscilla allowed him to turn her head this way and that, examining the bruise. The throbbing had stopped and for the most part it didn’t hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “It’s okay.” She let her shoulders slump and leaned against the counter.

  For the first time since being out at the crash site, she stopped thinking herself in circles and took a real breath.

  Brenden pulled his hands away from her face. “Why don’t you clean up, have something else to eat and see how you feel then?”

  He meant to leave her alone. She didn’t want that. Her other option was Melody. She was nice, but the woman kept talking. Brenden knew Priscilla didn’t need to talk all the time, that silence was perfectly fine.

  Priscilla reached out and hooked her fingers in his. That cut on the side of his head looked just as bad as it had when they’d met. “What about you?”

  He backed away from her, toward the shower, pulling her along with him.

  Brenden let go of her and reached into the glass walled shower, turning the water on then pulling the door shut.

  Why was it, when he was near, she felt better? What was it about him?

  Priscilla had trusted Brenden for no real reason. And not just to be her partner in the beginning, but to talk to him, share with him. She didn’t do that with many people. Besides her friends from college, she couldn’t think of another soul in her adult life who’d earned that kind of trust from her.

  She wasn’t entirely comfortable wanting him there. And yet, he put her at ease.

  It was confusing.

  “Arms up,” he muttered.

  She lifted her arms, wincing a little as her shoulder protested. He pulled the blouse off her and tossed it toward the vanity. She unzipped her boots and stripped off her socks. The cold tile felt good against her toes.

  Priscilla straightened as Brenden tossed his own shirt toward hers.

  She’d seen and felt him last night in the heat of passion, then in tenderness later when he’d held her. The man she was growing to know didn’t match up to what she’d expected him to be like. Someone with his past, doing his job, she wouldn’t be surprised if they were gruff, hardened to the world.

  Brenden wasn’t. He bottled up his experiences, holding them deep inside himself, and he didn’t expect anyone else to care about him or his past. He gave. He protected. He did what he thought was right, even if it risked his end goal.

  He was taking care of her even now. But who took care of him?

  A yearning tightened her belly. She could be that person for him. She understood him.

  Would he let her?

  Priscilla shook her head, but the idea had taken root. It was a silly desire. Her life was in New York, his all over the world. How was that supposed to work?

  The truth was, it wouldn’t. She needed to be grateful for now, that here in this moment he was there for her.

  12.

  FRIDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Albuquerque, New Mexico.

  Brenden was going to crack a molar. At least they were done showering. He’d never studied the levels of hell, but one of them had to include showering with a gorgeous woman and not popping a boner. It had taken all of his concentration while sharing the shower head to keep his thoughts in line.

  To him, this was another day at work. Yes, someone had died. It was a terrible tragedy. It wasn’t the first and it wouldn’t be the last. The nature of his job was dangerous, and that meant sometimes people were killed.

  Priscilla didn’t have that same mindset. She was upset. He was going to respect that and keep his dick to himself.

  He swiped the towel over his body, doing a quick dry off. Priscilla didn’t move as fast. She focused on her hair then limbs. The water made her tanned skin dewy, and it glistened under the lights. Some of her bruises had begun to turn colors, the new layering with the old. He hated every one of them and wished for a day those marks would be wiped off her.

  Brenden had been standing there staring, mulling over her injuries for several moments before he realized it.

  As if he needed to add more visuals to his library.

  He’d already memorized the color and shape of her nipples. If he thought about it, he could feel the texture of the curls covering her mound. How soft her skin was.

  Brenden tucked the towel around his waist.

  “How you doing now?” His voice was rough, gravelly.

  Priscilla glanced up. Her eyelids drooped, but he knew it would be awhile before she slept.

  “Okay, I guess,” she said.

  “Head feel any better?”

  One side of her mouth hitched up. “Only when I think about it.”

  “Sorry.”

  She shrugged, the movement drawing attention to her full breasts. The towel was back at work on her hair. She made no effort to cover her nudity and though it might damn him forever, he couldn’t force himself to look away.

  He leaned back against the vanity. “Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

  Priscilla’s hands fell from her hair. She clutched the towel to her chest, suddenly looking far more innocent and younger
. “Will you stay?”

  God, that was a punch to his gut.

  “I can come back later. I need to see what my job is to help out the rest of the team.” He nodded toward the bedroom door.

  “Oh, okay.” Her gaze slid away from him.

  Brenden fought the urge to cross the bathroom and hold her. Priscilla presented the world with the image of the badass woman. That was her in every fiber of her being. But strong people had to have someone to catch them.

  He had his team. The guys had looked out for him more times than he could count. Right now he wanted to be that for her, but no part of him trusted himself. Not after last night, not with how he kept staring at her right now.

  “I’ll see about our bags.” He turned and fled the room at a brisk pace.

  Brenden stepped into the hall and breathed a deep breath. The spicy scent of dinner was gone. Some lights had been turned off in the living area. It was quiet.

  A door down the hall opened and Melody stepped out. She wore yoga pants and a T-shirt, a combo he’d never seen on her. For a second they blinked at each other before he realized he was standing there in a towel.

  Melody never once glanced down at his lack of dress. She crossed the hall, her gaze firmly on his face.

  “How’s it going?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Fine.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Just cleaned up. I didn’t...”

  He didn’t what?

  Brenden hadn’t touched Priscilla, but he’d fucked her in his head a dozen times since last night.

  Melody ignored his implied statement. “Did you get her to calm down? Take anything?”

  “She took some painkillers and is resting. Or said she would.”

  “Okay, well, it’s your job to make sure she does that.” She blew out a breath. “I don’t envy you.”

  “What about the cameras? Where am I on the schedule?” All things he needed to help with.

  Melody frowned at him, a little wrinkle developing between her brow. “Priscilla is your job. I don’t care what you do, or how you do it, just keep her calm.”

  “That’s it?”

  Melody chuckled at him, a bit of her ever-present seriousness fading. She bent, grabbed the handle to Priscilla’s suitcase and handed it to him. “You’re point. This is what being point means. See you in the morning?”

  Brenden rolled those words back through his head.

  Being on point. It wasn’t an official title and sometimes they used other words, like babysitter. The meaning was all the same.

  Whoever got on the best with an asset was assigned to them. That had never been Brenden, and he wasn’t sure what all it entailed. It was time to figure it out.

  “Let me know if you need me to do anything.” He bent and grabbed his bag off the floor.

  “We won’t. If you need a bed, check the schedule for where there’s an empty, okay?”

  Brenden nodded and turned toward the door.

  If you need a bed.

  Was it assumed he was staying with Priscilla?

  She’d asked him to stay. Would the others assume that was the arrangement? All because of last night?

  There was also the whole day on the plane. He hadn’t missed the looks, the glances, the whispers. Typically he didn’t talk much. There just wasn’t a lot to say. But it was easy with Priscilla and no lack of topics. They hadn’t even said anything important, mostly mulled over Rio, what had happened, tidbits of their lives.

  Brenden pushed the bedroom door open and wrangled the bags inside. The main light was off and the lamps on either side of the bed cast a gentle glow. Priscilla lay in bed, her hair wrapped up in her towel, the sheet tucked under her arms.

  It was a damn nice sight.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I got told to take a break.” He took both their bags to the dresser and left them on the carpet. He straightened and turned toward the bed.

  Priscilla lay on her side now, watching him.

  “You still want company?” he asked.

  One side of her mouth hitched up. “You offering?”

  Why this woman?

  He doubted he’d get an answer. The facts were facts. He was attracted to her. He liked her. It felt as though he’d known her his whole life. And in a few days he’d probably never see her again.

  Why not enjoy it while it lasted?

  Priscilla pulled back the sheets.

  He should put on boxers at least, but he didn’t. Brenden crossed to the bed and slid under the blanket, his towel still trying to remain in place. He rolled to face her. The low light made the bump and bruises harder to see, which he appreciated. She might be a black belt badass, that didn’t mean he had to like seeing her survival badges.

  She lifted a hand and touched his chin where his stubble was growing into something more. “You ever thought about growing a beard?”

  “Nolan’s girl says it makes me look like an angry bear.”

  Priscilla sputtered a laugh. The best part was that for a moment her eyes sparkled. Her fingers slid along his jaw. He remained where he was, not leaning into the touch, though he wanted to.

  God, he wanted to.

  She continued to touch his face, her fingers rasping over his stubble.

  Did she like beards? Was that a thing?

  If he didn’t shave in a day or two he’d have one.

  “Sorry,” she whispered and pulled her hand back.

  “Why?” He brought his mind back to the moment, aware he’d missed something.

  Priscilla shrugged then tucked her hands under her face.

  “Pris.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” He stared at her. “I grew up with two sisters.”

  “I was touching your face and I shouldn’t have. That’s all.” She didn’t look at him. Her eyes found a dozen other places to look, including the ceiling.

  “When did I say you couldn’t touch my face?” Hell, she’d touched plenty of him last night.

  “You didn’t, but you also didn’t... You know.”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  She finally met his gaze. “We took a shower together, and you practically stayed plastered to the wall.”

  Because he’d been thinking about things like duty rotations, cleaning his boots and changing the oil in his truck, all to keep himself cool under pressure.

  Her gaze dropped to the sheet. “I guess I assumed after last night and today...”

  That he wasn’t interested?

  Fuck that.

  “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

  “A gentleman who takes naked showers?” She peaked back up at him.

  Exasperated with her, the situation, his own frustration, Brenden reached over, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand down to cup his cock through the layers of bedding.

  “You know how hard it is to keep from getting an erection right now?” he asked.

  She leaned into him, her fingers moving along his length as it stiffened. There was no amount of willpower that would prevent him getting hard now.

  “Brenden, right now I just want to feel something good. Please?” She looked at him as if she were her savior.

  It was damn humbling.

  Part of him knew this was about escaping the present. She’d lived through hell and now she wanted to lose herself in something that felt good. Made her feel alive. That didn’t change the fact that he wanted her.

  “You might think differently in the morning.” He fisted his hand in the sheets at her back.

  “No, I won’t.” She tipped her chin up, one side of her mouth hitched up.

  Brenden wasn’t strong enough to resist her, and he didn’t want to. He pulled the blankets back and yanked his towel out from under him. The sheets slid along his skin, cool to the touch, at least until he got closer to her.

  For a little while, they’d both forget.

  He cupped her face and kissed her, keeping his touch tender.

  He kissed down
her body, plumping her breasts and teased her nipples. Her hands stroked his shoulders and neck. He gathered her to him and rolled, pinning her under him.

  Brenden pushed up, taking in the image of her laid out against the sheets, her damp hair spread over the pillow where it had come free from her towel. Her pupils were dilated and her skin flushed.

  The rest of the world didn’t exist.

  Right now it was just them.

  He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. She nipped at his lower lip and clutched his shoulders, lifting herself to twine around him.

  Priscilla was a woman who liked control, even when she wasn’t the one in the driver’s seat. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she shifted, her mound pressing his cock as she undulated.

  Brenden reached between them and cupped her pubis. He pressed his fingers against her, sliding through her folds. Her arousal coated his digits. It took considerable effort to not just thrust into her right then and there.

  Last night had scratched an itch, a need for each other. Tonight he wanted to be better.

  She hooked her arm around his neck and pulled his head down closer, her mouth yielding to him as he deepened the kiss, leaving no question in his mind what she wanted.

  He thrust a finger inside her and she groaned, curling her calf around the back of his thigh. He added a second finger, then a third, working her pussy with his hand. Her spine bowed, and she groaned, doing him the honor of letting go with him.

  In a way, he knew her just like he knew himself. Neither of them allowed the world to see their unprotected selves. But here and now? This was honest. It was them.

  Brenden broke the kiss, lifting his head to watch her face as he plunged knuckles deep into her pussy. She clutched his shoulders and groaned, her brows knitting together.

  “God, Brenden,” she moaned. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

  “Not yet.”

  He slid his thumb over her clit.

  She gasped and her eyes snapped open, staring up at him with hunger.

  He finger fucked her again, working the bundle of nerves while she chanted his name, her nails digging into his shoulders.

  She was magnificent like this. Free, uninhibited. It was the version of Priscilla the world didn’t get to see. Just him.