Midnight Captive

by Elle Kennedy

  She stared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  His confusion grew. “No. Why?”

  “Why? Where exactly was this infallible faith in my abilities the other day? You know, when you swept in and ripped Butler off me and then proceeded to beat him senseless?”

  “That was different.” Sean shrugged. “Because you didn’t have the situation under control.”

  She gulped, unable to deny that she’d been grasping at straws when Butler had been pawing her. In that moment, she truly hadn’t known how she would escape.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said smugly. At her stricken expression, he softened his tone. “It didn’t look good when I walked in, but you would have saved yourself, Bailey. I know you would’ve.”

  “At the expense of my mother? I don’t know.” Her voice cracked. “But I considered it. God, when Butler was touching me, and Cillian was just standing there enjoying it . . . I considered killing them both. Even though I knew it meant that the sniper would kill her.” She swallowed and averted her gaze. “I’m glad you showed up and took the decision out of my hands.”

  “Are you?” he said skeptically.

  “Well, I wasn’t glad when it happened,” she confessed. “I didn’t like being in the position where I needed to be rescued. I’ve spent so many years taking care of myself, you know? I never accepted backup, not when I worked for Daniels, and not after I went private. I . . . don’t like needing people.” She bit her lip. “I needed you yesterday.”

  Strong hands cupped her cheeks, forcing eye contact, and then Sean’s tender expression warmed her face. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “What?” she murmured.

  “Admitting I might have done something right. Admitting that you needed help.” His callused thumb traced the seam of her lips. “It doesn’t make you weak, Bailey, and it doesn’t mean you’re letting someone have power over you. It just means that you’re not a superhero.” He chuckled softly. “Even superheroes have partners, you know.”

  Partners.

  God, was that what they were? She’d spent so much time believing that Sean didn’t view her as an equal, but she was stunned to realize that it was the other way around. She hadn’t viewed him as her equal.

  “But if we’re ever going to have a chance of moving forward, you need to be honest with me,” he said quietly. “You need to tell me what you’re afraid of.”

  Her throat constricted. “I . . . don’t know.”

  Sean touched her cheek, the epitome of tenderness. “Yes, you do.”

  “I . . .” Tears stung her eyelids and tightened her chest. She took a breath, forcing herself to voice the truth that she was only now allowing herself to recognize. “I’m scared you’ll hate me.”

  Shock filled his eyes. “What?”

  “I’m scared that you’ll resent me.” The tears spilled over, leaving salty tracks on her face. “I’m strong, Sean. I really am. I needed help yesterday, but most of the time I can handle myself just fine. My mom . . .” She struggled for air. “She was strong too, and my father despised her for it. I know you’d never . . . do what my father did. I know that. But I’m so afraid you might hate me one day.”

  Oh God, she couldn’t stop the words that were pouring out of her mouth. She felt weak and light-headed and mortified. She wanted to run away, but Sean didn’t let her. He gripped her chin, the fierce look in his eyes holding her captive.

  “I could never hate you, Bailey. Your strength is what I love most about you. Don’t you see that? It’s what blew me away the moment I met you.”

  She bit her lip harder, trying to stop another rush of tears. “What if that changes?”

  “It won’t. I’m serious, luv. I love knowing that you can kick my ass.” His green eyes twinkled. “It’s actually kind of a turn-on. I mean, how many men can say that their woman is capable of snapping a lowlife’s neck with her bare hands? And don’t get me started on that sharp brain of yours—if I ever need to plan a covert mission, you’d be the first person I—”

  “Yes,” she blurted out.

  His forehead dipped in consternation. “Yes, what?”

  “That’s the answer to the question you asked me before.” She pressed her palms to his cheeks and gazed into his eyes. “Yes, I do love you.”

  “You do?”

  The adorable wobble in his voice made Bailey’s heart squeeze. “So much it scares me,” she whispered.

  He swiped at her tears with gentle fingertips. “I promise you, as long as I’m with you, there’s nothing you need to be afraid of.”

  She laughed through her tears. “Because you’ll be there to protect me, right?”

  “If you need me to,” he said simply. “If you let me. But it goes both ways, you know.”

  “Oh really? You’re saying you need me to protect you?”

  “Fuck, yes. Someone needs to keep my reckless ass in line. Might as well be you.”

  “Might as well? God, you don’t have a romantic bone in your body, Sean.”

  He flashed a cocky grin. “Maybe not, but there’s definitely one in my pants.”

  She snorted.

  “But I wasn’t just joking before,” he said, his expression going serious. “I want you to protect me. If I’m ever in danger, or in battle, or in pain, there’s nobody else I want by my side, Bailey.”

  A hot rush of emotion flooded her chest. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Bloody right I do.”

  “Good. Because now that I’ve decided I love you, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

  His answering smile shone brighter than the full moon above them. “Luv, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  Chapter 26

  Sullivan grinned as he hung up the phone and glanced at Isabel. She was stretched out on D’s bed but shot into a sitting position the moment he ended the call. “They’re okay?” she asked.

  “I think they’re more than okay.” He grinned harder. “According to Reilly, he and Bailey have decided they’re madly in love, and they’re now on their way back to his flat to consummate their eternal passion.”

  Isabel burst out laughing. “He did not say that.” She paused. “Did he?”

  “It’s Reilly—what do you think?”

  “God, he totally said it.” She rose from the bed, her expression turning serious. “I can’t believe O’Hare actually went through with it. I was sure he’d change his mind.”

  Sullivan’s amusement faded. “I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. Christ. Nobody wants to die like that.”

  “Maybe he thought the alternative was worse,” she said sadly. “Hell, maybe dying in a fiery explosion is better than withering away as your body is ravaged from the inside out.”

  “Jeez, love, way to depress the shit outta me.”

  Isabel reached up to ruffle his hair. “Nothing depresses you, Sully. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s so frickin’ laid-back about everything.” She grabbed her cell phone from the end table and headed for the door. “I’ll pop into Liam and Ash’s room to let them know Bailey and Sean are okay. Will you text D?”

  He nodded. “Will do. Am I seeing you in the morning or are you flying out tonight?”

  “Nah, I’m not leaving until noon. I paid extra for the breakfast buffet, and I intend to take advantage of it.”

  With a grin, Isabel slid out the door, leaving Sully to chuckle to himself, but once again, the humor didn’t stick.

  When his gaze shifted to his bed, his misery only intensified.

  He couldn’t look at that damn thing without thinking about what he’d done on it. With Liam. With the brunette he’d picked up at the hotel bar.

  Both encounters had resulted in orgasms, but the latter hadn’t screwed with his head the way the former had.

  The latter hadn’t turned his whole bloody world upside down.

  Christ, he’d known he was attracted to his teammate, but . . . he hadn’t realized just how much he w
as attracted to his teammate.

  It went beyond an itch he simply needed to scratch, because he could do that anytime and with anyone. Sex was a game he excelled at. Hell, all it had taken last night were a few flirty remarks and a lady-killer grin and that brunette had been all over him, more than willing to indulge in a no-strings roll between the sheets. She’d scratched the itch, given him what he’d needed in that moment.

  Liam had left him wanting more.

  He turned toward the door when he heard the beep of a key card sliding in place. Good. D was back. Sully had felt like such an ass when he’d kicked the surly bastard out of their room last night so he could get his rocks off. D had been forced to bunk with Liam and Ash, and Sully knew the guy was still pissed about it.

  He pasted on the most apologetic smile he could muster as the door swung open, but his facial muscles froze when not D, but Liam, entered the room.

  “Hey.” Liam’s blue eyes flickered awkwardly as he held up the room card. “D and I swapped key cards.”

  Sullivan kept his voice casual. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m bunking here tonight.” The discomfort on Liam’s chiseled face deepened. “We need to talk, and I figured it’d be easier if we did it without D or the rookie lurking about.”

  He swallowed a panicked groan. Liam wanted to talk? Sully had hoped his mate would sweep shit under the rug again, the way he’d done after Paris.

  Damn it, he wasn’t equipped to deal with this right now. He hadn’t even finished sifting through his own messed-up thoughts about the issue.

  But clearly Liam was determined to have a sit-down, because he literally sat down, sinking on the edge of the mattress as he met Sullivan’s eyes.

  “I don’t know what the hell is going on with me, Sully.”

  He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. His throat was clamped shut.

  “I lied to you this summer. After the . . . the whole thing with . . . fuck, I’m just gonna say it—after the kiss. It freaked me the fuck out, okay?”

  “I know,” Sullivan said hoarsely.

  “No, you don’t know,” his friend retorted in frustration. “I freaked out on you and you thought it was because I was shocked and horrified by what you did, and then when you apologized, I let you. I let you think you’d done something wrong.”

  His lungs burned as a breath squeezed past his tight throat. “It was wrong.”

  “Was it?” The helpless tremor in Liam’s voice ripped Sully’s chest apart. “Because it didn’t feel wrong. And last night, when I . . . when I . . . damn it, you know what I did.” He paused. “That didn’t feel wrong either.”

  It hadn’t. Christ, it really, really hadn’t. Sully couldn’t remember the last time he’d come that hard.

  But . . . no. He was not going down that road. Not with his best friend. Not with one of the only people who’d ever truly given a damn about him.

  Liam stood up and took a step toward him.

  Sully took a wary step back. “Where are you going with this, Boston?”

  “I have no fuckin’ clue,” Liam said miserably.

  He inched forward another step.

  This time Sullivan remained frozen in place. At six-three, he towered over most other men, but Liam was the same height, and his vivid blue eyes were perfectly level with Sully’s.

  “Maybe we should . . . do this.” That muscular body edged closer.

  Apprehension lined Liam’s features, those rugged movie-star features that made it impossible to look away, but then what he’d said registered, and Sullivan stumbled backward.

  “Do what exactly? Screw? Because it ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Why not?” Unexpected challenge lit Liam’s eyes. “You’re saying you don’t want it?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want. Any way you look at it, this doesn’t end well.” Sully sighed. “This friendship is too bloody important to me, mate.”

  Liam looked hurt. “And it’s not important to me?”

  “I’m starting to wonder, seeing as you’re so willing to douse it with gasoline and light a fucking match to it.”

  Liam’s hands balled into fists. “Damn it, Sully. I need . . . I need to do this.” The helpless chord returned to his voice, echoing between them. “I have to find out if . . .”

  An angry curse flew out of Sullivan’s mouth. “If what, Boston? If you’re bi? Gay? Well, forgive me if I don’t want to be your sexual guinea pig.”

  “Since when?” Liam shot back. “When do you ever turn down sex, Aussie?”

  Frustration burned a path up his spine. “This isn’t about me turning down sex—it’s about me caring about you too much to lead you down this path. You want an answer to your little problem? Fine, here it is: you’re straight. You’re going to marry a nice Catholic girl and have a dozen rug rats, just like your brothers and sisters. That’s your path, mate. But hell, I’m all for you exploring. If you want to take a walk on the dude side and see what it’s all about, go ahead. Just do it with someone else, okay? It can’t be with me, because you know what happens after I screw someone—I walk away. And I don’t want to walk away from my best friend.”

  He was panting by the time he finished, but his earnest speech fell on deaf ears.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Liam objected. “It doesn’t have to change anything. Just . . . once. One time and then we . . .” He trailed off.

  “We what? Pretend it didn’t happen?” Sarcasm bit into his words. “Because you tried that approach with the kiss. How’s that working out for you?”

  Liam visibly gulped.

  “Jesus, Boston. Are you really that naive? You think we could take it further than a bloody kiss and it won’t affect our friendship?”

  Anger coursed through Sullivan’s veins. Anger and exasperation and sheer disbelief that Liam actually thought this could ever be a good idea. The guy would never be able to handle it. He’d never be able to look Sullivan in the eye again, and damned if Sully would lose his best friend over something as pointless as sex.

  The turbulent emotions eddying inside him spiraled to the surface and sent him charging forward.

  He planted a hand on Liam’s chest and shoved the other man against the wall. Liam’s body collided into the hard surface with a thump, his eyes blazing with indignation, but Sullivan didn’t give him a chance to speak.

  “Is this what you want?” he hissed, grinding his lower body into Liam’s.

  Sullivan fought a groan when he felt a very noticeable erection straining against his thigh. His fingers touched the button of Liam’s cargo pants, but he didn’t pop it open.

  “Well, is it?” he mocked. “Do you want me to undo your pants and blow you, Boston?”

  Liam’s breathing went heavy. He didn’t answer.

  Sully palmed his friend’s package. “You want to screw me with this?” He squeezed that hard ridge, then grabbed Liam’s hand and placed it on himself. “Or feel me screwing you with this?”

  A strangled curse flew out. “Sully,” Liam started.

  He cut him off. “And then, when you’re finished coming, you honestly think we’d be able to pretend it didn’t happen and go back to being best buds?”

  He abruptly released Liam and backed away from him. “Well, I’m not risking it. Maybe this friendship doesn’t mean anything to you, but it sure as hell means something to me. And I’m not lighting that match. I’m not fucking doing that.”

  Ignoring Liam’s stunned face, Sullivan stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

  * * *

  Bailey struggled for breath as she collapsed onto Sean’s bare chest, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of orgasm. The man beneath her was as breathless as she was, green eyes hazy with pleasure as he gazed up at her.

  “I’m disappointed in you,” he said with a grin.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell for?”

  “For fighting me all those years.” Sean tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thin
k of all the sex we could’ve been having. Five years’ worth of orgasms, lost to us.”

  A laugh tickled her throat. “I’m sure we can make up for that. Actually, I bet we can squeeze in at least a couple months’ worth tonight. Well, if you get some coffee in me.”

  He arched his hips and his still-hard cock stroked her inner channel. “There’s no room,” he drawled.

  Bailey’s laughter broke free. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Yeah, but you still love me.”

  God, she really did. So damn much. Now that she’d allowed those feelings to breach her heart, she couldn’t seem to control them. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of spice and man that never failed to make her light-headed.

  “So what now?” she murmured. “Where do we go from here?”

  “Literally or figuratively?”

  She smiled. “Both.

  “Well, relationship-wise—God, I love that word. Relationship.” He stroked her cheek. “I plan on marrying you first chance I get, luv.”

  “I see. And do you plan on asking me beforehand?”

  “I just did, Bailey. Get your head in the game.”

  A snort popped out. Yup, of course that would be Sean Reilly’s idea of a marriage proposal.

  “As for the literal where do we go—I’m putting you on the first flight out to Colorado.”

  Bailey didn’t offer an argument. She was desperate to see her mother, even though Daniels had assured her Vanessa was all right. She’d reluctantly called him earlier to request he post more agents on the nursing home, but she needn’t have bothered, because he’d already gone ahead and done that. Daniels hadn’t handled the loss of his men well—he’d practically gloated when he’d told her that the second wave of agents he’d dispatched had eliminated every threat in the area. Flannery’s men were dead, and with their boss also out of commission, there was nobody left to threaten her mother.

  “Noelle’s already sent a plane,” she admitted. Then she paused. “I was hoping you’d come with me.”

  Sean’s jaw dropped. “You want me to meet your mother?”