The Investigator: Norcross Series

by Hackett, Anna

  She gasped, then undulated against him. His mouth took hers—hard, deep, wet. Her perfume filled his senses—sweet, just like Haven. His fingers found her pussy, stroked.

  She cried out against his mouth and he swallowed the noises she made. She was wet. Wet and ready for him.

  He thrust a finger into her tight warmth and his thumb found her clit.

  “This is going to be fast, Haven. And rough.” His voice was guttural.

  She let out a low moan. “Yes.”

  He fumbled with his belt, then his zipper. He slid one hand under her ass. And he fitted his cock to her and thrust deep.

  Haven moaned his name. Her legs clamped onto his hips and Rhys pumped into her.

  “Fuck, I feel you rippling on my cock. Take me, baby.”

  She did, clinging as he drove into her.

  “That’s all for you, Haven.”

  “Yes.” Her mouth moved, touched his neck. He felt the rake of her teeth.

  He kept thrusting, with no finesse, no care, just the primitive need to claim and affirm his mate.

  She gave a husky cry and started coming. She bit down on his neck.

  Rhys moved faster, plunging his cock deep. Haven. His. So fucking sweet. With one last thrust, he lodged deep and poured himself inside her.

  They stayed there, with him pinning her to the wall, both panting.

  Shit. He’d been wild, rough.

  “Did I hurt you?” He lifted his head.

  She blinked, then gave him a wide, lazy smile that he could just make out in the dim light.

  “Not even a little. That was…amazing.”

  Everything in him relaxed.

  “I think we should have wild, brick-wall sex at least once a week,” she said.

  His lips twitched. Damn, she was something.

  “I might have a few scrapes on my back—”

  He frowned. “You said you weren’t hurt.”

  “I’m not. They’re badges of honor.”

  He shook his head and pulled out of her. She moaned, and that’s when he realized.

  “Shit.” He met her gaze in the low light. “I didn’t use a condom.”

  She touched his cheek. “It’s okay. I get a contraceptive shot, and I made sure I got tested after Leo.” She licked her lips. “There hasn’t been anyone since him. Um, you…?”

  “Haven’t been with anyone since I met you.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “And I’ve always used condoms before. But I’ll get checked, just to make sure.” He’d keep her safe in all ways.

  He stroked her swollen lips, then realized that there was only silence in his head. No noise. The driving, twisting beast inside was calm.

  “Let’s go home,” she murmured.

  Home. With Haven.

  “Yeah, let’s go home.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Haven stood in a coffee shop with Rhys, waiting for her latte. The cute, cozy shop was just around the corner from his condo.

  He handed her a takeaway cup, and she sipped her latte and moaned. When she opened her eyes, Rhys was watching her with a grin and a certain look in his eyes.

  She made a show of licking the foam off the top of the lid.

  His brown eyes darkened. “Tease.”

  He turned to get his coffee from the barista. That’s when Haven spotted a pair of women sitting at a nearby table, staring at him.

  She couldn’t blame them. She raised a brow.

  The women both smiled, and one gave her a thumbs up.

  Once Rhys had his coffee, they walked outside. He kept her tucked close to his side.

  Haven’s heart clenched. She was starting to believe. Rhys had said he hadn’t been with anyone since they’d first met. Unbelievable, but she realized that she hadn’t seen him with anyone. She’d been avoiding him, but she sure had taken a lot of notice of him.

  This amazing man was into her. Protecting her, caring for her.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s a short walk to the Hutton.”

  She’d wanted to get her work laptop, and some other stuff from the museum, so she could do some work at Rhys’. The museum was closed on a Sunday, but the guards would let them in.

  Rhys was armed. She knew he was wearing a shoulder harness under his suede jacket. When he’d put it on this morning, it had made her want to jump him. What was it about a guy in a shoulder harness that was so sexy?

  She sipped her coffee.

  “You haven’t asked about Becker?” Rhys said.

  She glanced at him. “Because I haven’t thought about him. Um, is he still at Norcross?”

  “Nope. Saxon questioned him. He had nothing new for us, so Saxon let him go. If he survives Zakharov, he’ll be lucky.”

  Haven didn’t want Leo dead, but strangely, she felt…nothing. She shrugged. “I just want him to go away and stay away.”

  Rhys ran a hand down her back.

  She was feeling far safer, but she was still just stewing over the Water Lilies. She wanted it back.

  She was beyond pissed that Volkov and the Zakharov family thought they could just help themselves to other people’s hard-earned things.

  Finally, they reached the elegant façade of the Hutton. They met with the security guards, and entered the building. It was silent inside, and their footsteps echoed through the space.

  Haven stopped in the main hall, staring at the empty wall. She hated that empty wall.

  “You okay?” Rhys asked.

  “I want the painting back. Easton paid so much money for it. So many people were enjoying seeing it.” She sighed. “I still feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn’t been with Leo, if I—”

  “Hey.” Rhys put a finger under her chin. “We’ll get it back. This isn’t your fault. I’m gonna make you repeat that until you believe it. “

  “And how will you do that?”

  He smiled. “I’ll tie you to my bed, torment you with my hands and tongue, hold back your orgasm until you agree this isn’t your fault.”

  Her nipples beaded and his gaze dropped. He shot her a sexy grin.

  “Sadist,” she said.

  “Hardly. I promise you’ll enjoy every second.”

  They headed up the stairs, and when she made it to her office, Haven dumped her empty coffee cup into the trash. At her desk, she grabbed her laptop and some files.

  “I want to come into work tomorrow,” she said. “I need to check in with my staff, and go over some restoration projects.”

  “Okay.”

  Just like that. He’d stay with her, keep her safe. She walked up to him and kissed him.

  He raised a dark brow. “What’s that for?”

  She took a deep breath. “I just wanted to let you know that I really like you.”

  Something fired in his eyes. “I really like you too.”

  “I’m starting to get that.”

  “Finally.”

  She swatted his arm. “Now, we just need to find the Water Lilies. What do we do next?”

  “Well, my plan is to question the appraiser. Irvine.”

  Haven gasped. “My God, with everything going on, I’d completely forgotten about him!” This was clearly why Rhys was the investigator and not her.

  “I’ll ask Vander to stay with you—”

  “No.” She gripped his arm. “I’m coming.”

  Rhys scowled. “Haven.”

  “He’s a seventy-year-old man, Rhys. I know him and he likes me.” She frowned. “I’m still shocked he does illegal appraisals, but there is no risk in me coming.”

  “Shit, I hope you aren’t always going to talk me into stuff.”

  She shot him a sweet smile.

  In Rhys’ SUV, they headed to Mr. Irvine’s address, which Rhys already had.

  The man lived in a small, tidy house in Glen Park. He met them at the door, dressed in slacks, shirt, and a vest. He looked like a smaller, sweeter version of Santa Claus.

  “Mr. Irvine, I’m Rhys Norcross. We spok
e on the phone.”

  “Of course, of course.” The man noticed Haven. “Haven! What a nice surprise.”

  “Hello, Mr. Irvine.”

  “Come in. I just made some tea.”

  Inside, the house screamed “decorated by a grandmother.” There were some nice prints on the wall, mostly of the English countryside. There were also lots of framed photos of Mr. Irvine, and a gray-haired, sweet-faced woman. There were also lots of children and grandchildren.

  It was all so normal. Haven wanted that. Love. Family. She wanted frames all over the place filled with pictures of her life. The things she’d missed out on after her mom died.

  They sat at the table in the kitchen and Mr. Irvine brought a pot of tea over.

  “Not for me,” Rhys said.

  No, Haven was sure that badasses did not drink tea.

  Mr. Irvine poured two cups.

  “Did you appraise the Water Lilies here?” Haven asked.

  “Oh, you know.” The old man smiled. “It’s just business, Haven. I am sorry the painting was stolen from the Hutton.”

  “My guards were shot. I was beaten.”

  Regret crossed the man’s face. “I’m very sorry to hear that. I just appraise. No questions asked.”

  “For a very large fee,” Rhys said.

  “Yes. I need the money to keep the house, and help my family.” The man beamed. “My oldest grandson is off to Berkeley this year. My lovely Jean died last year.” Grief lined his face. “This house meant everything to her. It was her parents’ home, and she grew up here. I don’t commit any crimes, but I do carry out some off-book appraisals.”

  Haven sighed. “My ex was the one who instigated the theft of the Water Lilies and set this in motion. We want the painting back where it belongs, not sold to a criminal and locked away in a private collection.”

  Mr. Irvine sipped his tea and nodded.

  “Do you have any information that might help?” she pleaded. “Do the right thing, Mr. Irvine. For Jean’s memory, for that grandson going to Berkeley, for your family.”

  “They were all careful not to say too much around me. They took me to a warehouse in Potrero Hill. It looked like it had once been a factory.”

  Haven glanced at Rhys. The painting had been in that warehouse at some stage.

  “It really is a masterpiece. Anyway, I’m an old man. A few of the guards talked like I wasn’t even there.”

  Rhys leaned forward. “What did you hear?”

  “They’re planning to move the painting soon. For a private sale.”

  Haven frowned. “No, there’s going to be an auction.”

  Mr. Irvine shook his head. “A private buyer made a huge offer. I think it was some prince from the Middle East.” He frowned and scratched his head. “Or was it a tech billionaire from Silicon Valley?”

  Haven gasped. “When? Did you hear when the sale was happening?”

  “Let’s see, today is Sunday, so tomorrow morning. At six am, a black, unmarked truck will leave Mr. Volkov’s mansion.”

  She looked at Rhys. This was it.

  “Thank you, Mr. Irvine,” she said.

  “Anything else?” Rhys asked. “Did you hear where the sale was happening?”

  “That’s all I heard. Good luck. I do hope you recover the painting. It should be in a museum. Maybe I’ll drop by the Hutton soon.”

  It was hard to hold a grudge. Haven reached over and touched his hand with hers. “If you do, I’ll give you a private tour.”

  Rhys shifted her chair out and grabbed her hand. They said their goodbyes and left.

  In the SUV, the tires squealed as Rhys pulled out. He drove fast, but with a quiet, confident ease she found sexy.

  “I need to call Vander and plan the recovery mission,” Rhys said. “We don’t have much time to pull it all together.

  Haven nodded. “I’ll—”

  “You are not taking part in this. And you aren’t going to talk me into it this time.” His voice was as hard as steel.

  “I wasn’t going to.” Okay, maybe she was. Still. “I was going to say that I’ll leave this to the experts, since I don’t have badass in my DNA.”

  Rhys shot her a look that said he didn’t believe her for a second.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was still dark when Rhys woke Haven.

  He stroked her hair. She’d finally fallen asleep in the early hours after being restless for most of the night, worrying about this morning’s mission.

  Yesterday, he, Vander, and the rest of the Norcross team had spent the entire afternoon, planning. They’d left nothing to chance, and Vander always had more than one contingency plan.

  Rhys had finally brought Haven home for dinner. She’d been nervous and twitchy, playing with her food. He’d ended up going down on her on the couch, before carrying her to bed and exhausting her in other ways.

  But she’d still been restless.

  Now, in the murky light of early morning, he kissed the back of her neck. She shifted, still naked, and pressed against him.

  His cock went hard, and desire licked through his veins. He kissed her shoulder and she made a sexy purr.

  Need swelling, Rhys pushed her onto her belly and straddled her. He palmed her ass, kneading the soft flesh. Then he shifted, rolled on a condom, and thrust inside her.

  She moaned his name.

  “Take me, baby.” He started a rhythm of steady thrusts, her body shaking with each one.

  Her hands twisted in the covers. “Rhys.”

  He pulled her hips up, and leaned over her. He covered her, protected her. She was his to cherish. His to keep safe.

  He bit her earlobe. “Falling hard for you, Haven.”

  She made a sound and whispered his name. She thrust her ass back against him.

  He slid a hand under her. “Feel how you take me? How you’re stretched around my cock?” He found her clit and strummed. She let out a harsh cry and her pussy rippled on his cock. “Come for me, baby.”

  Her back arched, and her head flew back against his shoulder. As she came, he kept powering into her, and then with a groan, he came hard inside his Haven.

  Rhys dropped to his side on the bed, and pulled her close. She clung to him. Once his breathing evened out, he pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “I have to go, angel.” He needed to shower, get ready, then meet Vander and the others. They wanted to be prepped and ready well before six am.

  “Okay, Rhys,” she whispered.

  He kissed her again, then climbed out of the bed. Maybe when this was over, he’d take her away. Maybe to the beach, or a cabin in the mountains. They could stay in bed all day long.

  Rhys quickly showered and dressed.

  When he exited the bathroom, he found Haven in the kitchen. Her hair was still a tangled mess, and she wore one of his T-shirts. It looked way too sexy on her.

  “Coffee.” She pushed a travel mug across the bench. “Bagel is in the toaster.”

  “Thanks, babe.” He sipped the coffee.

  She circled the island and moved in close. “You be careful.” Her hands moved down his chest. “Come back to me in one piece, Rhys Norcross.”

  He took her mouth with his. She kissed him eagerly, and he felt the touch of desperation under it. All he could do to reassure her was to get this over with as soon as he could.

  Rhys was winning against the walls Becker and life had forced her to build. She hadn’t freaked when he told her that he was falling for her.

  It wouldn’t be long, and Haven McKinney would be all his.

  “You stay here,” he said. “Doors locked, alarm set. Don’t leave for any reason. Ace is running comms for us from the Norcross office. You get spooked, you call him. If he doesn’t answer, he’s busy with the mission, so leave a message.”

  “Okay.”

  He tucked her hair back behind her ear, then toyed with the diamond that she hadn’t taken off since he’d given it to her. “It’s almost over.”

  She pressed her fac
e to his chest and hugged him tight.

  After one more kiss, Rhys grabbed his bagel and coffee, and headed out. In the hall, he waited for her to lock the door before he made his way to the parking garage.

  With a few bites, he finished the bagel, and slugged back his coffee. He left the cup near his GTS, then started his bike. He set his boot on the foothold, pulled on his helmet, then roared out of the parking garage.

  He met Vander, Saxon, Rome, and Easton a few blocks from Volkov’s mansion.

  Vander stood by his bike, while Saxon and Easton were in one SUV. Rome was in a second SUV.

  Vander handed Rhys an earpiece.

  Rhys hooked it in. “Check.”

  “Got you.” Ace’s voice came through the earpiece.

  Vander lifted an arm, checking his chunky Breitling Aerospace watch. “Okay, time to move.”

  Rhys threw a leg over his bike, checked the Glock 22 tucked securely into the holster under his arm, then pulled his helmet on. “Let’s end this.”

  Vander revved his bike. “Hell, yeah.”

  They flipped their visors down. Rhys and Vander led the way, the two SUVs moving in behind them. Rhys took a corner, hugging the curve, the early morning light intensifying.

  They pulled over, just down from Volkov’s house.

  “Six o’clock,” Vander murmured.

  Like clockwork, a black delivery truck pulled out of Volkov’s driveway. It moved slowly down the street, turned.

  “Follow,” Vander ordered. “We’ll stay back, then pick the right spot to approach.”

  Rhys really wished they knew the route, but hopefully there was a good location to pull the truck over and breach. He zipped through the light traffic, and turned to follow the truck.

  They followed the truck out of Sea Cliff, and soon it was headed into the Presidio.

  Where the hell were they going? Why drive through the large park? Were they headed for the Golden Gate Bridge?

  The truck turned off onto a wooded side road. There were no buildings or cars in sight.

  “Go,” Vander ordered.

  The X6s veered off, speeding ahead and overtaking the truck.

  Rhys accelerated. Vander, hunched over his bike, sped ahead. He watched the brake lights on the truck flare.

  Perfect.