Over Abby’s head, I shot Remi an inquiring look.
“I was able to track them two streets over, to a van,” Remi said, his voice quiet in the car. “Too many of them to take out on my own. They were alert.”
They would be considering what they’d just done to draw attention to themselves. If I hadn’t been focused on Abby, they’d all be dead.
“Same deal as the motorcycle: no plates, generic make and model. They were gone before I could grab transport to follow.”
“Any feelers come back positive, Eli?” I asked.
Eli threw a glance over his shoulder, then turned back to watch the road. “Not yet. But that doesn’t mean it won’t. They’re coming in hot and heavy. That won’t go without notice.”
I grunted in agreement.
Eli turned a corner, and Abby leaned hard against me. I couldn’t stand it anymore. She might not want me to hold her, but I sure as fuck wanted to. I needed to hold her, to help her gather back together the pieces of herself that had shattered apart with the home she’d built.
So whether she wanted it or not, I put my arm around her. Her bones always felt fragile, delicate beneath my rough hands, as if the slightest touch might break her. It wouldn’t—Abby gave as good as she got most times. The only time she broke was when she was beneath me, in climax.
She stiffened against my chest, tried to pull away. “Stop it,” I hissed. “Just stop.”
The words were low, though I had no doubt my brothers could hear them. I didn’t care. All I cared about was touching her, holding her. Breathing in the smoky vanilla scent of her that reassured me she was alive.
I turned in the seat, gripped beneath her knees, and forced her legs over mine. Wrapped both arms around her, a shield from the rest of the world. Abby didn’t protest again, but her barriers were up, her body tense. Holding a part of herself away. Protecting it. The only way I’d break through the barrier was with my body, my heat. Sex. But if I tried that tonight, I had a feeling she’d shatter, and not in a good way.
Let her resist me for now. I’d be waiting in the morning. This would all be waiting in the morning.
Chapter Six
I was lying on the bed when Abby came out of the shower. An ambush, she’d probably call it, though I’d say she ambushes me every time I see her like this. The towel around her body hid the details, but knowing what was beneath it with aching familiarity—it didn’t matter how much she hid, I’d always want her.
But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time to face reality.
She hadn’t spoken to me since we’d arrived. The blank look in her eyes, like the entire day had been too much and she’d had to retreat for her own sanity, sliced through me like a KA-BAR every time I caught a glimpse of it. I needed to protect her—that thought went through my head on a continuous loop I couldn’t seem to stop. I should be out there fixing this, hunting down the bastards who’d taken her home from her, erasing that guarded look from her eyes, but I couldn’t. All I could do was rage inside and wait. I shouldn’t be waiting while the woman I loved was in danger.
That’s right. Love. I was in love with a woman who wanted to leave me behind.
Made perfect sense.
My breath hitched as an image of my parents the last time I saw them flashed in my mind. Dead. Covered in blood. That’s what love led to.
And yet something inside me—a heart? A soul?—something deep refused to let go of the word as I watched Abby cross the room to her suitcase. I couldn’t protect her from her attackers—yet—but I could keep her head out of the sand. It was the only way to save her right now.
“We need to talk.”
I hated how everything that came out of my mouth sounded like I was barking orders. Some pansy-ass prince charming could probably soothe her, croon in her ear; I sounded like a drill sergeant whipping her into shape.
Abby ignored the demand and dug into her clothes. When she pulled out a pair of panties, a growl ripped from my chest.
“Save it, Levi.”
I pushed to my feet. “Ignoring what happened won’t make it go away. We have to deal—”
“What if I don’t want to?” she snapped. Pajama bottoms came out next. “Maybe I just want to live in a fantasy world for one night. Reality is calling insurance companies and finding a new place to live. Reality is knowing someone hates me enough to bomb my house, and that you don’t love me. Why would I want to face all that?”
She stood up, her pajamas gripped tight in one hand. Every line of her body rejected me, but I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t let her go on believing…
“I never said I don’t love you.”
Abby scoffed. “You never said you do, either. You never said you want to build a life together. You never said you wanted a future.”
Because a man like me doesn’t have a future. “I’m an assassin,” I pointed out. “I kill people for a living. What kind of future is that?”
Abby refused to look at me. “Exactly. No future.” A sad grin pulled at her lips as she ran a hand through her wet hair. “Forgive me for finding that a little hard to face at the moment. I’ll pick up my sword again tomorrow.”
“Abby, I…”
But what could I say that would make it better. Hell, I couldn’t even fault her for wanting to do nothing but forget for tonight. And she could do that better if I wasn’t here—but fuck if I could make myself walk out that door.
Abby put a hand up, stopping me from saying anything more. “Forget it, Levi. I understand.” She dropped her towel right where she stood, her creamy skin and rounded curves stopping my heart in its tracks. “I’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love. And don’t deny it.” She stepped into her pajama bottoms, her breasts swaying as she bent over. “If you loved me, we would be finding a way to make this work, not just finding a way for you to get me back into bed.”
I stood, stunned, watching her pull her tank top over her head. I did love her; I knew that even if she didn’t. Even if I had no practical idea of how it worked, what I felt couldn’t be denied: This agony that exploded inside me every time I thought about her leaving, thought about her. The hunger that drilled through my marrow when I caught sight of her, saw her smile, forced her beneath me. The need to put her safety above my own—hell, above my own brothers. Damn it, of course it was love.
Which meant I was fucked no matter how this turned out. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
So why deny myself?
My body went rigid as I stalked around the end of the bed. Abby’s head came up fast, eyes wide, a doe about to be eaten. Sensing that she’d snapped some kind of leash that had held me in check so far. But no more. My body wanted what it wanted, and I would have it.
“Take those off,” I said, nodding toward her clothes.
“No.”
My expression told her exactly how long I’d allow that no to stand. Abby swallowed hard. Stepped back.
I kept right on coming.
“It’s the only pair of pajamas you have, isn’t it?”
Abby’s leg banged against the corner of the bed. Her fists tightened in the fabric of her top. “Yes.”
“Then I suggest you take them off.”
She fumbled around the side of the bed. “Levi, I can’t deal with this right now. With—”
“Me?” I chuckled, the sound low and angry. “I’m the bastard, right?” I moved closer. “Then this won’t be a surprise, will it?”
I reached out; my fingers gripped the neck of her tee. One good tug and the fabric ripped down the center.
“Levi!”
There was anger in the word, yes, but also need. My woman needed to escape as much as I did—the pain, the uncertainty, the loss and fear. I could give her this.
I jerked the destroyed shirt down her arms. Her breasts bounced as she backed up again—right into the nightstand behind her.
I reached for her pajama bottoms.
Curbing the urge to rip, I took the pants all the way t
o the floor, then stared up at Abby from my position at her feet. Her breasts rose and fell with every hard gulp of air she took, her stomach quivering beneath her palms. I could see the heavy thud of her pulse in the side of her neck, the spot where she was both most vulnerable and most sensitive. I needed my mouth there, my teeth. I needed this too, to take her hard and fast and drown us both in the moment, crowding out everything else.
“This won’t fix anything,” she said.
At least she wasn’t denying that it would happen. “It’ll fix enough.”
As I eased to my feet, her nipples went hard.
“This won’t be slow,” I warned her. But my fingers were, releasing the buttons on my shirt—one, two, three. Cool air hit my bare skin.
Abby’s gaze zeroed in on my chest, the deep blue and red swirls of ink along my pecs, her eyes almost glowing, they were so fierce. “Does it matter?”
“No.” All that mattered was taking her. Blanking her mind to anything but me.
Her breath shuddered as she drew it in. “Levi.”
My gut clenched at the desire dripping from my name. “Little bird.”
Goose bumps broke out across her skin. Her nipples tightened even more. When I went to work on the button of my jeans, she shifted restlessly.
“Get on the bed, little bird.”
She hesitated as I slid my zipper down. My cock was hard enough to extend above the waistband of my boxer briefs, and the minute she saw it, her tongue skated across her bottom lip. My erection thumped against my belly. “Now, Abby.”
Her eyes met mine, and the memories of the fire were gone. All that was on her mind was me. This. Us. When she turned to crawl onto the bed, triumph sparked in my veins.
Abby laid back, her ass on the edge, her wet hair spread across the sheets. Light played along the damp heat between her spread legs, making my mouth water.
“I want you on my tongue,” I told her, toeing off my shoes. I let my jeans and underwear drop, my knees following, and then my mouth was on her pussy. Sharp, tangy cream flowed into me as I speared inside her, ruthlessly pursuing every drop of pleasure I could give her. I devoured her taste, her cries, her climb to the peak. When my thumb pressed hard against her clit, she exploded around my invasion.
I’d promised her fast, and that’s what she was getting.
Her breath was still heavy as I shoved her up to the pillows. I didn’t kiss her, didn’t touch those beautiful breasts. No, I lined myself up and slammed inside her tight, wet heat, savoring the lingering spasms around my aching erection. Abby’s keening wail split the air. Her knees came up, gripping my hips, tilting her pelvis so I could get in even deeper. Balls-deep. My cock head bumped her cervix and kicked in reaction.
I was home.
I planted my fists on either side of her body and brought my mouth to her then—nipping, licking, sucking. Stomach, ribs, the undersides of her breasts. She moaned and squirmed beneath me, trying to get me to move. And I did…when my lips surrounded one rock-hard nipple and I sucked her in. Her back bowed off the bed, arching up to me, sliding her pussy down my cock. I bit down on her nipple as I rammed back inside.
Abby clamped down hard around me.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. The words were a chant in my brain, my ears, and I followed their command to the letter. Every heavy, hasty thrust caught Abby’s clit between our pelvic bones. Every suck and bite of her breast pushed her higher. Within a minute she was fisting my cock in another climax, nearly taking me over the edge with her.
Not yet. If the only thing I could give her was oblivion, then I’d do it right.
Only when she’d come twice more, her sweaty body collapsing beneath me, her eyes barely able to open, did I let myself go. One more thrust, two, and my cock spasmed hard in her wet depths, giving her everything I had to give.
When I could breathe again, I left the bed. Abby murmured a sleepy protest as I wiped her down with a cool washcloth, but otherwise she stayed asleep. After I’d cleaned myself up, I eased into the bed and pulled her onto my chest.
And there, in the darkness with Abby’s scent surrounding me, her body warm and relaxed and satisfied against mine, I made myself a promise.
I was an assassin. I was ruthless. I wasn’t going to give up the only woman who’d ever mattered to me, whether she wanted to walk away or not.
Chapter Seven
Abby was still sleeping when I slipped out of bed the next day. I’d lain beside her for a long time, watching her breathe, ready to slay dragons even if they appeared only in her sleep. When she didn’t stir, I decided to conquer some real-world dragons instead.
Eli was busy at the computer, fingers flying as he stared down the screen like it was the enemy. Remi stood at the stove in the kitchen area, frying bacon. His bared chest left the scars from the gunshot that had almost killed him on full display, and like always, a well of nausea rose at the reminder. I’d almost lost my brother. I’d always believed we were damn near invincible until the day that sniper’s shot had landed. Now I doubled down on never putting anyone in harm’s way but me.
In the kitchen I retrieved a coffee cup and poured some. Black and almost strong enough to stand on its own—perfect. A few sips and I was ready to tackle business.
“What have we got, Eli?”
“Some interesting things.” Eli spun his chair around and headed for the kitchen.
I gritted my teeth, wondering for the hundredth time how I could be related to someone so laid-back most of the time. “Like?”
Picking up a piece of bacon from the tray where Remi was depositing them as they finished, Eli held it thoughtfully in the air. “Like, we actually have even less on the van at Abby’s than we got on the motorcycle in town. If we can’t be close enough to follow, we aren’t going to find these guys that way.”
I cursed against the rim of my cup.
“We know they can’t be local,” Remi said, emphasizing the point with the tongs in his hand. “Word would’ve leaked somehow. So who do we know that’s good enough to hide themselves that well when they aren’t in their hometown?”
“I can think of a few US-based groups,” I said. “The problem is narrowing it down to a specific group without being able to see their faces.”
“Which I might have been able to do,” Eli mumbled around a mouthful of bacon.
I snagged a couple of crispy strips off the tray as Remi switched from bacon to frying eggs. We all knew how to cook, but Remi was the best, hands down. “How?”
Eli moved to the fridge and began taking out juice and condiments. “Like you said, only certain groups are good enough to get away with this. My feelers in the southeastern US were getting me nowhere, so I started looking at other major cities where suspected groups were located. Turns out Rathlin’s posse in DC has gone quiet over the last two days.”
“They could be anywhere, including out of the country,” Remi pointed out.
“True.” The timer on the oven went off, and Eli pulled out a tray of biscuits. “I did look at more groups in the US, but they’re the only one that appears to be a possibility. Plus…”
I grabbed a stack of plates from the cabinet. “Spit it out, dickhead. I’m tired of fishing.”
Eli chuckled. “But stringing you along is so fun.”
I glared his way, refusing to pass over the plates when he reached for them.
“Fine, fine. I did some analysis on the footage of the cyclist from yesterday. It seems likely that bike was driven by a woman.”
I narrowed my eyes as Remi took the plates from my hands. “I don’t know any major player with a woman on the team except—”
“Rathlin,” we all said together.
Remi dished up the first batch of eggs, passing the plate to Eli. “Your reward.”
Eli smirked and began loading bacon and biscuits on. Remi started another set of eggs.
“It could be someone new, someone we haven’t heard of before,” I pointed out.
“It could.” Eli shrugged. “But
DC makes sense if you think about it. With her father’s connections, the idea that someone in the capital has it out for her isn’t as far-fetched as, say, Douglas’s group in SoCal.”
Again, true. Still, my instincts weren’t humming yet. I just wasn’t sure why.
Remi passed over my eggs, and I joined Eli at the table. “I want you to get on the insurance stuff today, Remi. As much as we can get taken care of without Abby worrying, I want done.”
“Don’t you think you should talk to me about that first?” a husky feminine voice asked behind me.
My grip on my fork tightened. “No, little bird, I don’t.” Putting my fork down, I turned in my seat. Abby walked through the open living area, her body concealed by her pajama pants and an oversize sweatshirt. Her arms were crossed as if holding herself together with the tight grip, and dark circles painted the skin under her eyes. The sight of her made me ache in more ways than one.
“Get some sleep?” I asked, knowing I shouldn’t. Knowing I was just pissing her off.
“You know I did.”
Her tone said as if I had a choice. I couldn’t keep the self-satisfied grin off my face.
Abby dropped her eyes and moved to the coffeepot. After pouring what was left into an empty cup, she began a new pot. She’d spent enough time with us to know any coffee we made required a steel gut to consume. As she waited for it to brew, she moved to a nearby plug and hooked up her phone to charge, studiously ignoring my stare.
Remi passed over a plate after she’d filled her own cup. “Sit and eat, Abby. You’ll need it today.”
I noticed she didn’t argue with him, though she didn’t sit with us—she stood at the bar, where she sipped and ate and scrolled through her phone. When she began typing out a message, my eyes narrowed.
“Who are you texting?”
“Charlotte.”
I glanced at my brothers, both of whom shrugged. “Charlotte who?”
Abby didn’t look up from her phone. “You’d know if you bothered to stick around during the day.”
I half rose from my seat, determined to grab her cell and shut it down, hide her from the world. A sharp shake of Remi’s head had me easing back into my chair.
Assassin's Prey (Assassins Book 3) Page 4
