Stealth Ops Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “They miss Ara. And me. They’re confused about everything that happened, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them the entire story.”

  “Probably best not to.”

  “I went to see the girls in the Bronx yesterday, too. It’s been too long. I’ve sort of been distracted by—well, everything. I need to make more time for them. For everyone in my life.”

  “You want to step back?” He cocked his head and looped his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “Need a break?”

  “No, but I did have an idea.” She motioned for him to sit. “I want to bring someone else onto the team.”

  “Who?”

  “Harper Brooks.”

  “The same Harper from the CIA who nearly died in France?”

  “Yeah, from the op that had you nearly tripping all over yourself as you fell in love.” She smiled as she thought about Eva. About her baby niece. She’d barely had any time to spend getting to know her niece. It’d been one thing after another.

  “Harper’s smart. Her tech and cyber skills are comparable to mine.”

  He scoffed. “I doubt that.”

  “It’s true, but anything she doesn’t know, I can teach her.”

  He stroked his trimmed beard and dragged his focus down to the floor. “You think she’d want this, though, especially given what happened to her?”

  Harper was also a fighter, like Jessica; so, she’d be up for the challenge. “She has family in New York. I think she’d like to come back home.”

  Home. New York had been Jessica’s home for years, but did she really know her own city?

  “Let’s run it by the team and call POTUS to see if we can bring her in.” He paused for a beat. “Speaking of the president, Rutherford called before I came in here.”

  She rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. She was still pissed at how he handled everything. “Yeah, and what’d he want?”

  “Guess POTUS ripped him a new one, because he called to apologize.”

  “Yeah, well, the president didn’t exactly help our situation all that much, either.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Rutherford won’t be calling you, though. I told him he owes you an in-person visit.” He mumbled something incoherent under his breath, clearly still clinging to his anger like her.

  “I’m not in the mood for a social call from him. Tell him to send me an I’m sorry memo,” she said with a smirk.

  “Will do.” Luke briefly dropped his head, stealing his eyes from view. “I owe you an apology as well.”

  “For deleting Asher’s text?”

  He looked back at her. “It was an asshole move. I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry.”

  Her thoughts veered to Asher’s two-week absence now. “Well, apology accepted.” She looked out the window, the sun filtering through the partially open blinds. “How do you think Asher’s doing?”

  “We all deal with death in our own ways.” His voice had been low, as if remembering when he’d lost Marcus, or another SEAL during his time on the Teams. “Asher told me about Egon.”

  Her forehead lifted in surprise. “He told you what happened?”

  “I already knew, but yeah, he mentioned it.”

  Her stomach sank, and she brought her thumb between her teeth.

  “I think he’s worried he can’t come back from what he did.” His nostrils flared as their eyes reconnected.

  “And what’d you tell him?” She rubbed her arms as goose bumps scattered over her skin.

  “That I would’ve done the same,” he quickly answered, and her gut told her he was telling the truth, but she doubted Asher would’ve believed Luke’s words.

  The team revered Luke—he was Bravo One—but he was still a man. He bled. And she knew when it came to family, to his fiancée and daughter, he’d chase a demon to hell and back if it meant keeping his loved ones safe.

  “I got his knife back from the Feds—the one you gave him for Christmas,” he said. “I put it in his office this morning.” He tipped his head toward the door. She’d nearly forgotten Asher had been asked to turn it over to the Feds since he’d used it on Samir’s s-vest outside Langley. He hadn’t been thrilled about that. “Do you want to give it back to him?”

  “If”—she cleared her throat—“when he comes to the office, I’ll let him know it’s there.”

  She thought about their goodbye. The way his mouth had slanted over hers just before he’d taken off. The hard sting of regret poured through her for ever letting him leave, though. Maybe being alone was the exact opposite of what he needed. He had been what she’d needed during her toughest times.

  “Maybe you should stop waiting for him to come back and just go get him.” He lifted his shoulders. “He needs you.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t know where he is.” Her fingertips smoothed over her mouth at the memory of his kiss.

  “And you’re going to let something like that stop you?”

  “Asher? The door was unlocked. Are you in here?” She set her carry-on down and closed the door behind her. “Hello?”

  She scanned the visible living area of the two-story cabin before her gaze swept up the stairs to where she heard faint sounds.

  She gripped the railing, needing the support as she climbed the stairs.

  Muffled cries came from above—Oh, God. Maybe someone was in trouble.

  She raced up the last few steps and followed the sounds to the last door on the right. But she hung her head as she stood frozen outside the door.

  No one was in trouble.

  She’d tracked him all the way to Colorado, and now . . .?

  Her hand pressed to her abdomen, and she rested her head against the door, fighting back tears.

  “Oh, yes. Yes. Yes!” A woman was full-on grunting like an animal in the wild.

  Jessica shoved away from the door.

  “Bloody hell, you’re a wild one.”

  Her palms landed back on the door, her body tensing at the sound of . . . Wyatt? Not thinking, she grabbed hold of the knob and pushed the door open.

  “Wyatt! What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Jessica?” Wyatt peeked around the naked woman still riding him, and his gaze narrowed on Jessica. “What are you doing here?” He shifted the woman off his lap and plopped her down next to him before standing.

  Jessica shielded her eyes with her hand and then turned her back. “Could you do something about your nakedness?” Heat crawled up her neck, but the guilt at ever believing, even for a second, that Asher could’ve been in the room with another woman absorbed her thoughts.

  “I don’t know who she is, but she’s hot,” the woman said. “You want to join us, sugar?”

  “Fuck no,” Wyatt rasped. “She’s my boss. And like a sister.”

  “Are you decent now?” She slowly faced the room and lowered her hand to find Wyatt in jeans.

  He strode before her and reached for her forearm. “What are ya doing here?”

  “I was looking for Asher. I don’t understand why you’re here, though.” She stepped back.

  He brought his hand to the nape of his neck and squeezed. “This is my place.” He blinked a few times and looked over his shoulder at the woman. “You think maybe you could cover those things up? You know, seeing that my boss is here and all.”

  The woman blushed and pulled the sheet up over her breasts.

  “Sorry about interrupting, but I thought you were—”

  “Asher?” He chuckled. “The bloke thinks he’s a mountain man or something. He’s probably out chopping wood.”

  She dragged a hand down her face, trying to process everything. “Maybe you can shed some light on all of this. You know, like, what the hell is going on?” Her tongue pinned to the roof of her mouth.

  His arms crossed. “Asher needed a place to lie low for a bit, and so I offered my cabin. No one knows I have a place in Boulder, and so . . .”

  “Yeah, speaking of that, I do need to know about
every place you own.”

  He smiled. “Oh, do ya, now?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded and forced her thoughts back to what Wyatt had said. Was Asher outside? Had he seen her drive up? “So, why are you here, then?”

  “He’s had his phone off, and he’s been up here for a few weeks. I got worried, so I flew in two days ago to check on him.”

  “You could’ve told me this back in New York.”

  “I couldn’t narc on him. Sorry.” He scratched at his trimmed beard. “But it’s probably a good thing you came. I think he needs you. He’s a bit out of sorts.”

  “Sixteen days without a word.” She gathered a hard breath and released it. “And you came and did what, exactly?” She peeked over at the blonde in bed.

  “Asher didn’t come into town with me. I got in trouble all on my own. No worries.”

  She flinched at the sound of the door closing down below.

  “It looks like the man of the hour is back.”

  “Do you think he’s going to be pissed to see me?” She turned toward the door and caught a flash of bluish-black fabric from over the railing.

  “He’ll be something—doubt it’ll be angry.” Wyatt nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll be down in a second.”

  She took slow steps out of the room and strode to the top of the stairs to find Asher’s back to her, his gaze on her bag by the door.

  “Jessica.” Her name from his lips had her spine straightening, and he turned in her direction and looked up. “Wyatt ratted me out?” His right brow arched.

  She forced her feet to move, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him as she came down the steps, her pulse climbing. “No. I got impatient, so I looked for you.”

  “This place isn’t on the map.”

  “Yeah, I’m wondering what else Wyatt’s keeping from us.” She stopped at the bottom step and clutched the railing, worried she’d lose her footing. “Are you okay?”

  He was in jeans, boots, and a blue and black button-down flannel. Wyatt was right. Asher, of all people, looked like a man who belonged in nature—not a guy raised on the streets of New York City.

  “Luke got your knife back from the Feds,” she said when he didn’t say anything.

  His eyes were steady on hers, but for some reason, she couldn’t get a read on him. “You came all the way here to bring me it?” He cocked his head.

  “Uh, no.” Her lips parted into a near smile. “The airline frowns upon knives in carry-ons.”

  “So, why are you here?”

  She rolled her tongue over her front teeth, buying her a second of time. “Do you want me to go?”

  Instead of answering, Asher looked up over her shoulder, and she assumed Wyatt was on approach. She should’ve been able to hear him, but her heartbeat competed with nearly every sound in the cabin.

  “I didn’t tell her. I swear.” Wyatt walked past her, followed by his partner, who glanced at Jessica from over her shoulder once they reached the door.

  Asher stepped out of their way, sidestepping Jessica’s bag.

  “I think you two might need to talk, and there’s a pint with my name on it in town.” Wyatt patted Asher on the shoulder and then opened the door and left with the woman without another word.

  Silence spilled into the room once they were alone. “I guess I made a mistake in coming,” she announced when Asher remained casually standing, rubbing at his beard, which had gotten thicker during their time apart.

  “I needed time to think, Jessica.”

  The way he said her name was like a gut-punch. She did her best to stay upright, her fingers nearly whitening as she continued to clutch the railing. “Do you need more time?”

  He turned his back and walked through the living room and to the kitchen. There was a bottle of Scotch on the counter, and he filled a glass halfway before facing her with the drink in hand. “You want one?”

  “Sure.” She came into the kitchen and took the glass from him.

  He braced one palm on the counter at his side and stared at her instead of pouring another drink. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

  “I understand. Kind of went through the same thing after Ara died,” she admitted, remembering when she’d banned the team from visiting while she grieved. She was pretty sure Luke was right, though, and Asher’s disappearance was about more than Angelo’s death. “I got worried. Sorry.”

  He was quiet for a moment, and she waited for him to talk, needing to hear what he had to say. “I told the president about what I did. I needed him to know the truth.”

  She nearly dropped the glass as she moved toward him, worry flowing down her spine. She set the glass on the counter.

  “Do you know what he told me?” He shook his head. “If he’d been me, he would’ve sacrificed his job and killed Egon for hurting someone he loved.” His eyes fell shut, and his cheeks filled with air before he released the breath.

  “Asher?” Her hands went to his chest as she peered up at him. “Remember when you told me to find the fight inside of me—is that what you were doing here?” God, she hoped so.

  “I guess so.” His brows lowered. “Angelo died. I nearly killed his murderer. And I did kill Egon.”

  “That’s a lot to process.”

  He lightly gripped her biceps, and she kept her hands positioned on his pecs.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” she softly admitted.

  His deep brown eyes thinned, and then he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to come home,” he said after a minute.

  “New York?” She pulled back to view his eyes.

  He nodded. “I’m ready to settle down in one place.”

  “But you hate—”

  “I was scared I’d become who I once was if I lived there.”

  Emotion thickened in her throat. “And now?”

  “I realized I never stopped being that guy.”

  She thought about his words, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

  “Maybe it’s time I stop running from who I was.” The back of her hand raced over his cheek. “Maybe I never needed to run.”

  She took a breath. “Well, I want all of you. Whoever you are. Whoever you want to be. And you know why?”

  The muscle in his jaw tightened, but he waited for her to continue.

  “Because I love you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her bottom lip trembled.

  His brows knitted, and his chest rose and fell with slow breaths, but he remained quiet, observing her.

  “I have some issues I still have to work through, and so I’m not perfect by any means, but—”

  His mouth captured hers, and she groaned against his lips as he stole her breath.

  “I love you so fucking much,” he rasped between hungry kisses.

  “Mm. You and your love for the word fuck.”

  He laughed, and his beard tickled her lips into a smile. “I see you’re back to busting my balls already.” In one fast and hot movement, he pinned her to the cabinets with his body and cocked his head, his mouth close to hers. “And I fucking love it, Peaches.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “My brother’s cool with us being together, but if he walks in on us having sex on my desk, he still might kill you.”

  Asher bunched her skirt up to her hips and tugged her panties down to her ankles. “I’d say it’s worth the risk.” He kissed the inside of her thighs and pressed two fingers inside of her, noticing her legs slightly trembling as she stood in her black heels, her lower back to the desk. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you and me in your office?”

  “You promised never to think about me naked—remember?”

  “I lied.” He rose to his feet and cupped her ass cheeks before placing her atop her desk. He dipped into his pocket and produced a condom from his jeans. “I hate these things, but since we’re in your office, and we’ll be in a hurry—”

  “Yes. Please, hurry.”

  He grinned. “Well, now . . . I feel
like slowing down.” He set the foil pack on the desk. His fists bore down on each side of her, and he arched a brow and brought his mouth near hers.

  “Mm, if you don’t get inside of me right now, I’m going to fire you.”

  “Under one condition.”

  “What?” she growled out.

  “Tell me, the cherries—do you really love them that much, or were you fucking with me for months?”

  “Like you’re any better,” she said with a laugh. “Every time you sunk your teeth into a peach over the last three years with your eyes pinned to mine—where do you think I got the idea of such torture?”

  “Good point.” He slipped a hand over her black silk blouse and popped the top buttons. He unsnapped her bra, freeing her tits, and his cock grew even heavier and thicker in his jeans.

  He glanced at the locked door before focusing back on the woman he loved, ready to devour every inch of her.

  “We really do have to hurry. Harper’s going to be here soon to meet the team. I prefer to keep you and all your sexiness to myself, and so—” He kissed away her words and snatched the condom.

  She reached between their bodies and worked at his jeans to free his shaft. “I want you to give it to me hard. Okay?”

  “Got a pillow to muffle your screams?” The memory of their first time at the barracks blew to his mind as he sheathed himself.

  “Your thumb will do,” she said, and he followed orders.

  He buried himself deep inside of her a moment later, and her back arched—her hands bearing down on the desk on each side of her.

  She squeezed her tight pussy around him, offering even more resistance, and she bit down on his thumb as he moved in and out of her, watching her nipples harden, and her tits shake as he thrust harder and faster.

  She shifted, rotating her hips as they moved together.

  Moaning so loud she nearly let go of his thumb in her mouth, she tipped her head back, her eyes on the ceiling as she came.

  “Jessica,” he said under his breath as the blood rushed south, and his balls tightened almost painfully before he exploded inside of her.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “You were right. The risk was worth it.” She stared at him, her eyes hazy. “We might need to do this again after lunch.”