Gabriel (Guardian Defenders Book 1)

by Kris Michaels

“We were just about to get to the good stuff.”

  His head popped up, and his eyebrows shot heavenward, “You mean this isn't good stuff?”

  Her laughter echoed in the room. It was real, genuine, and happy. She lifted up and kissed his shoulder. “Damn, I wish we had more time.”

  His smile faded. “I'll be back. Before I leave, I'll get your number. I want more time with you, too.”

  She stared up at him. “That would be nice.”

  “Nice?” Gabriel growled. “No, Anna, I'm not nice.” He lowered his head and proceeded to prove himself a liar because what he did to her with his mouth, hands, and body was very, very nice. He lifted up onto his knees, ripped the foil on the condom, and slicked the sheath down his cock.

  She noted it didn't go all the way down. “Big boy.” She purred the word as her hand fisted his cock and stroked it over the condom.

  His hips jolted forward, and his head dropped back between his shoulders. “Fuck, Anna...”

  She slipped her hands between his legs and shimmed down, so she was under his cock. “Give it to me.”

  He dropped his head to look at her. “You don't have to, just let me take you.”

  She shook her head. “I want you to feed me your cock.” She opened her mouth and stretched the tip of her tongue to reach the underside of his sheath. Gabriel shivered above her.

  He moved slightly and widened his legs. He dropped over her and pointed his cock down so she could take it in her mouth. She lapped around the condom. His heat and size underneath the latex was a meal she was starved to eat. Only he was too careful. She wrapped her arms around his massive thighs and pulled him down toward her, or attempted to do so. For all her effort, he didn't move closer. She dropped her head and panted, “I want more of you.”

  “If I go deeper, I'll come, and I want to be inside you when I do.” He removed her hands that still clenched his thighs. He lay down on top of her, one arm keeping his full weight from crushing her. His other hand centered his cock. She shifted, widening the spread of her legs. He slipped into her a few inches, and they both groaned.

  “Oh, fuck, so hot,” Gabriel ground out as he withdrew and moved forward again.

  “So big.” She lifted her hips as much as she could when he advanced. The rasp of his chest hair across her nipples added just enough to push her toward that cliff she'd only been over once. God, she wanted that again. She wanted to have that moment because of Gabriel. He took her mouth as his hips started pumping. The weight of his hips settled across hers. As he hilted, he ground against her clit, and that action lit a sparkler inside her. Hot beautiful shards of electricity erupted from her center and showered her in illuminating pops of rapture-filled bliss.

  She felt his body tighten until it was granite when he came. She saw the ropes of muscle cord from his abdomen to his throat. His soundless shout as he filled the condom inside her echoed in her mind as clearly as it would have if he'd released the sound.

  He collapsed on top of her, forcing any remaining air out of her body.

  “Sorry.” He panted as he rolled to the side, and she felt him hold the condom as he pulled out. Without any fanfare, he got up and headed into the bathroom.

  She dropped her head and stared at the ceiling. Soo... yeah... the sex had been so good, but did she need to get up, now? Was she supposed to stay? It was uncharted territory for her. She lifted up onto her elbows and glanced toward the bathroom. She heard water running and tapped the little strength she had left to sit up. She swung her legs off the bed and stood, still a little dizzy from the horizontal athletics.

  “Where are you going?” Gabriel switched off the bathroom light as he walked back toward her.

  She blinked into the sudden darkness. “Um, you have to get up soon. I didn't want to be in the way?”

  “Come back to bed, Anna. I have time. I need at least a couple of hours sleep, and I'm betting you do too.” Gabriel flapped back the comforter and ripped back the sheet. He got into bed and patted the mattress.

  Anna slid back next to him, and his arms enfolded her in his warmth. She closed her eyes as her cheek rested against his chest, cradled in his arms. She listened to the steady thu-thump of his heart. She was exhausted. His fingers played with her hair. The soothing, repetitive motion released the stress of the last week, or perhaps that was the mind-bending sex they'd just had? Anna smiled against his skin as she allowed herself to slide into oblivion.

  Chapter 6

  Six Years Later:

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving.” Anna dropped her head on the breakroom table. It landed with a resounding thunk. Ouch. Note to self, don't do that again.

  Kay patted her very pregnant belly. “Shawn doesn’t want me working past seven months.”

  “Leave it to you to marry an OB/GYN.” That sounded whiney even to her own ears. Yeah, she was pouting.

  “I like your haircut by the way.” Kay reached out and ruffled her short hair.

  “Thanks.” Her beautician had promised her it would look good. The graduated layers were something she was getting used to, and she needed a change from the feathered Farrah Fawcett cut that had gotten so long she could sit on it.

  “Stop pouting. You’re transferring next week anyway. You won’t miss me.”

  “Bull puckey.” Anna watched Kay as she pulled her lunch out of the breakroom refrigerator. “I made a mistake. Home health care is going to suck.”

  Kay snorted an indignant laugh and shook a finger at her. “It is the perfect position for you. You can lavish all that attention on one patient and see them all the way through their care. Besides, that company is paying great money.”

  She leaned back and crossed her arms. “I’m not doing it for the money.”

  Kay walked behind her and placed both hands on her shoulders as she leaned over and whispered, “Which is why it is the perfect job for you. Every one of your patients become friends, anyway.”

  She frowned, thinking. “That’s not true.”

  Kay snorted again. “Ah, do you want me to list them?”

  “No.” She was not going to get the woman started.

  Kay pulled out a Tupperware container, sat it down on the table and lifted a finger. “Terrence.”

  “Not fair. He’s nice, and he and his wife like to line dance!”

  Kay lifted an eyebrow. Her hand landed on her almost nonexistent hip. “Grace.”

  She shook her head. “Grace likes to crochet, and she taught me how to do it. I have to keep in touch because I still can’t read a pattern for the life of me.”

  Kay sat down and popped the lid off her container. She picked up a fork and pointed at Anna. “Heather.”

  “Country music. Line dancing and rodeo.”

  “Oh, be still my Achey Brakey Heart.” The sarcasm dripped from Kay's words.

  “Stop.” She laughed and plucked Kay’s glass jar of Bac-o’s out of her bag. She popped the top and shook some into her hand.

  “No, you stop. Let me get mine first.” Kay snatched the bottle back and sprinkled far too few on her salad. She grabbed the bottle back after she inhaled the handful she’d already stolen.

  “What about Helen?” Kay opened another small Tupperware container and scattered pieces of chicken on her green salad. She gave the remainder of the chicken to Anna.

  “She is awesome! I never liked wine before. She taught me how to enjoy it!”

  “That old woman ruined you.”

  “That’s not fair. She’s a sweet old lady.”

  “Who is going to die from cirrhosis of the liver. Why on God’s green earth would anyone drink iced red wine?”

  She drew back as if she'd been slapped. “Why would you drink it any other way?”

  “Because it’s good at room temperature.”

  Anna shivered at the thought. She’d never liked alcohol, and when she went out, she felt… well, weird when she didn’t at least have one drink. Now she ordered a glass of red wine and a glass of ice water. The ice chilled the wine,
so the taste wasn’t as… moldy. She actually liked it cold. “Screw it. There isn’t a rule book for drinking wines.”

  Kay threw back her head and laughed, “Ah, yes, yes, there are. Many, as a matter of fact. They also go into pairings and recipes to enhance the tannins in the wines.”

  She picked a piece of chicken out of the container and popped it in her mouth. “Cold red wine goes with everything.”

  Kay closed her eyes and whispered, “Lord, please give this woman someone who will teach her how to behave.”

  She looked up at the ceiling, “Lord, please give this woman a man. Any man will do.”

  “Amen, sister.” Kay’s laughed agreement rang out loud and clear.

  “Gracie rocks.”

  “Hmmm… what about Jackie?”

  She smiled and pulled the chicken container back with her. “Jackie.”

  “You can’t deny the fact that you and she are close.”

  “She was special.”

  “You got her a job with your brother.”

  “I didn’t! I just strong-armed him into giving her an interview. She got the job on her own. She’s smart. She does math in her head like a calculator.” She finished the extra chicken, most of Kay’s Bac-o’s and a bag of chips out of the vending machine. “When is the baby shower?”

  Kay pointed at her. “Whenever you plan it.”

  “Whatchu talkin’ ’bout Willis?”

  Kay laughed and shook her head. “Nah, my mom and sisters are already fighting over it. Run while you can. Can you believe this is Diff’rent Strokes’ last year?”

  “It isn’t the same without Mrs. Garrett.”

  “She’s been gone forever. Her, Jo, Tootie, Blare, and Natalie, all on a different show. But think about it, we watched all those kids grow up.”

  “You just have kids on the brain.”

  “That may be.” Kay agreed as she started to re-assemble her Tupperware containers.

  “Hey, Anna, you have a call on line two at the desk.” The newest nurse to the floor popped her head into the breakroom. “Cassie told me to tell you, personal calls aren’t authorized.”

  Kay snapped her head up and the young nurse backpedaled quickly, getting away before Kay’s famous temper launched. “Cassie is not in charge on this floor. Not for three more days.”

  Anna stood up and cautioned her friend, “Settle down, or you’ll have that kid today.”

  “She’s the one who better settle down.” Kay picked up her fork and pointed at the door. “You tell her I said that.”

  “Right… I’m not going to do that.” She pointed to herself as she walked backward out of the door. “Smart woman.”

  She jogged down the corridor and held up a finger preventing Cassie’s tirade. The woman was by the books. A regular tyrant. Anna lifted the receiver and punched the flashing button.

  “Hello, this is Anna.”

  “Anna, it’s Nathan.”

  The hair on her arms prickled. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Jackie.”

  She dropped into Cassie’s chair, the ability to stand gone. “What? What happened?”

  “She was attacked.”

  Her body clenched, sending adrenaline through her system. She started shaking. “God, no.”

  “Yeah, ahh… She’s not doing well. She’s in ICU.”

  “Dear God.” Anna dropped her head into her hand. The fact that all movement around her had stopped didn’t register.

  “Can you come down? Deacon, he’s going insane.”

  “Deacon, your boss?”

  “Deacon, my boss, but he and Jackie are together. It’s a recent thing, but it was good for both of them. I don’t speak hospital. He hasn’t left her side. We need someone down here to, fuck, I don’t know… translate?”

  Her head lifted as she stared sightlessly down the corridor. “Yeah, yeah, I can come. I need to get a ticket, find someone to…”

  She glanced around. Her friends surrounded her.

  “Whatever you need,” Cassie assured her.

  “I can come. Whatever you need. Whatever Jackie needs.”

  “I’ll take care of the ticket. Page me when you have everything cleared up, and you’re ready to come down.”

  “I will. Tomorrow or maybe the next day.”

  Gabriel stared at the computer terminal on his desk. Seven current operations in the Gulf of Sidra blinked back at him. His teams were silently stopping more terrorist attacks after the devastating attacks in Rome and Vienna. The US Navy’s presence was making his teams’ black ops harder, but they’d successfully thwarted three pending strikes. Their successes in the last four years had catapulted his agency’s logistical reach into a massive growth period. He’d just authorized the expenditure of over ten million dollars for transport aircraft. His small Virginia office had burgeoned, so he purchased an office building in Washington D.C. and tore that bitch down. On the site, he’d built Guardian Headquarters with a mindset toward forward expansion.

  His current operations tempo overseas had redirected all energies in that direction, but someday he wanted a domestic arm. His time in the CIA and the short stint where he’d worked for Congress and the President had made an indelible impression on him. There was a need for a strong agency. One that wasn’t befouled with political backstabbing, personal agendas, or power-grabbing. He turned to examine the flow charts on his wall. He wanted a military-type organization where he’d build on core values of integrity, honesty, and loyalty. He tapped the arm of his chair and stared at the scope of his agency as it existed, and then shifted his eyes to the organization Guardian would become.

  His Domestic Operations would encompass law enforcement specialists. His overseas arm was robust now. He was already being approached by nations other than the United States. His abilities were sought after, and even though it wasn’t his goal, the income from this business was almost inconceivable. God knew he didn’t need the money. He used the profits to enhance his people’s salaries. Good people who worked damn hard deserved adequate compensation, and he gave it to them.

  Craig McNair opened his office door and walked in without knocking. He swiveled in his chair. “I think you forgot something.” The man never knocked.

  “Yeah, no. I’m playing delivery person on my way to the briefing room. Gaddafi is rattling his saber again, and the DoD is going to turn Libya into a parking lot if the politicians don’t get off their asses and cool this situation down. I’ve got three teams in harm’s way.”

  “No, Craig, I’ve got three teams in harm’s way, and I’ve already been on the phone with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. They aren’t going to back down this time, and US military assets are close to being in place to move forward. Get word to our teams to pull out.”

  “Fuck, we are going to lose our asses on those missions.”

  “I’d rather lose some money than people. What did you have to deliver?”

  Craig handed him a file. “You had an old flag on a name in NCIC. Jacqueline Brenner. The name ring a bell?”

  He opened the folder. “Fuck.”

  “I take it you hear bells.”

  “Yeah.” He scanned the document. “Fuck.”

  “You said that.”

  “You are correct. I did.” He closed the file and tapped it as he glanced up at his flow chart. He had the money, the resources, and teams stateside. Yes. It was time.

  He turned toward his phone and punched the intercom.

  “Daisy get my jet ready. I need a flight plan filed to New Orleans.”

  “Yes, sir. Your ‘go’ bag is in the storage area. Do you want me to bring it up?”

  “Yes and find me any points of contact we have at the New Orleans Police Department; plus, I’ll need the name of the New Orleans mayor and his number. I want the telephone number for the Louisiana senator and congressman, also, please get Kenneth Southerland over in the FBI on the line for me. I need to talk to him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He discon
nected the call and pulled the folder Craig had delivered toward him again. Jacqueline Brenner. That poor woman.

  “What the hell is going on? The Middle East is in turmoil. What the fuck is in New Orleans?”

  “Unfinished business and perhaps a way to the future.”

  “What kind of cryptic bullshit is that? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Does it matter? Get those teams in the Gulf of Sidra out of harm’s way.” He wasn’t in the habit of explaining his actions to anyone, and today, Craig had reached the end of his generously slacked tether. As one of his oldest friends, the only one who knew details about his identity and family that no one else knew, Gabriel tended to give the man leeway, but Craig needed a tight rein. He had a propensity to get in trouble. The last time he'd had to bail him out, he’d drawn a line in the sand. Craig had anger control issues, and over the past few years, his anger had taken the form of physical violence aimed at women. Craig was a big man, as tall and muscular as he was, and like him, McNair kept himself in excellent shape. He could inflict a lot of damage. His eyes narrowed. He'd made sure there had been no repeat offenses and required Craig to pay a hefty restitution to the woman he'd abused. No matter how much the authorities and even he had urged, she wouldn't press charges. Craig had deserved to go to jail for what he'd done. Instead, he’d tightened the reins and made damn sure his friend never had the opportunity to hurt anyone again. Additionally, as a condition of his continued employment, McNair saw Gabriel’s staff psychiatrist every week they were in the country. Jamison had permission from Craig to discuss anything and everything mentioned in the sessions with Gabriel. His friend had toed the line for years, but lately, Craig had become bitter and caustic, challenging him at every turn. They’d need to clear the air soon. He’d looked the other way a few too many times.

  “Fine. I’ll clear this up. What time are we leaving?” Craig was studying the computer monitor with the teams’ locations pinpointed.

  “I’m going by myself. You stay here and get our teams out of the Libya mess. I want updates on all missions when my wheels touch the ground in New Orleans.”