Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (34 page)

“I think your clit needs to come out a little more from its hiding place, don’t you?” Lach didn’t stop his slow thrusting, wanting her to be overcome with numerous sensations at once. Phoebe hid her face inside her arm, as if bracing for what was to come. She should. “Three more pumps before I’ll take it off. Count with me, Phoebe.”

“One, Sir,” Phoebe whispered into the crevice of her arm while she arched her back after he’d squeezed the end. Lach watched in fascination as her clit extended slightly. He then compressed again, watching it fight against the suction yet not coming close to winning. “Two, Sir.”

Phoebe’s voice rang out a little louder and she’d switched arms to which she pressed her face against. Her nipples were hardened, similar to her clitoris, yet nowhere near the size. Wanting this last pump to create something she’d never felt before, he stopped pumping his cock into her while slowly pressed the bulb until the insides touched together.

“Threeeee, Sir.” Phoebe had finally reached the point that Lach had wanted her to reach. It was a good thing, since he wasn’t so sure how much longer he would last. “Please.”

“You may come.”

Lach slowly allowed air to seep through the release valve of the suction cup, contractions within her pussy immediately closing her walls against his cock. He tossed the small device to the side and then gathered her juices with his thumb. Wanting her orgasm to continue as long as he could render it, he firmly stroked over her extended and overly sensitive clitoris. He would forever remember the scream that tore from her throat.

“More, Phoebe. Come for me some more.”

Lach pounded into her, feeling his own ball sac draw up into his body as it readied for release. He didn’t stop pressing and rubbing firmly over her clit, which didn’t seem to want to go back into hiding. That was fine by him. He had no doubt that she would remain swollen for a few days, letting her know exactly who she belonged to while she traveled to different states.

Not holding back, Lach kept driving into her until his own orgasm took hold, stealing the oxygen from his body. Having no energy left, he put his hands on either side of her waist while her legs were still held in place by the straps. He could feel the trembling in her muscles and knew that he needed to release her. Hell, she needed another soak in hot water and a rubdown so that she wasn’t too sore in the morning.

“My thoughts have changed regarding my upcoming trips,” Phoebe whispered, finally tilting her head so that he could see her exhausted yet contented smile. “They might be good for me. At this rate, you’ll kill me off with too much pleasure. That was amazing, Sir Lach McKinnon.”

Lach laughed as he struggled slightly to find enough vigor to move. Phoebe continued to amaze him, but he highly doubted she would feel the same after a couple of days with a sensitized clit. He refrained from sharing that as he unfastened the Velcro, easing her legs down onto the bed.

“Phoebe, the fun has just started.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

T
wo months later, in another city and another state, Phoebe wasn’t so sure she could last another eight weeks until primaries were over. Her traveling schedule had picked up, Lach’s case had taken him away from Minneapolis on some of the days she’d been in town, and she’d had enough. She’d had adequate time to think about it though and there was nothing in her power to make the next eight weeks any better.

Phoebe had just entered her hotel room after Thornton had cleared the area when she heard her phone ring. Thinking it was Lach, she rummaged through her purse and pulled out her cell. It was Kimmie. Things had been going much better on the family front and though their relationship was growing stronger by the day, it wasn’t her sister that she wanted to talk to. She needed to hear Lach’s voice as desperately as she needed air to breathe.

“Hi Kimmie,” Phoebe said, wanting to rush this conversation so that she could undress to slip under the covers and call Lach. “How are things back home?”

“Finals are coming up,” Kimmie replied, music from indie rockers Kongos playing in the background. “I spoke to Dad a few minutes ago. It sounds like things are going good there.”

“Yes, although I think another eight weeks will probably kill me.” Phoebe paused in kicking off her heels when what she’d said reminded her of one night months ago when she’d stated something similar to Lach. The memory had her smiling. “So, finals. Are you ready for them?”

“They aren’t for another week or two, but I feel confident.” Kimmie paused, allowing the huge sound created by the four-piece band to pulsate through the phone. Phoebe grimaced as she went about undoing the zipper of her skirt. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I used your apartment for the rest of the week while you were out of town. This place is just too busy and there’s always someone knocking on my door—which really pisses off Jerrett, my guard who likes the nightshift.”

Phoebe felt a tug in her heart as she heard the inquiry in Kimmie’s voice. Had this been a few months ago, she never would have asked such a question. They were best friends and yet, one decision had made it feel as if they were on rocky ground. She wanted her feisty sister back, not this tentative and unsure girl.

“Only if you promise to bake some of those chocolate chip cookies with the chunks of dark chocolate in them.” Phoebe was tired of the two of them walking on eggshells. Looking back, she knew that Kimmie wasn’t mad at her for treating her like a daughter at times. The words had been said in anger due to a situation beyond their control. What Kimmie saw as a simple solution had spiraled out of control and it was a life lesson learned, one that Phoebe hoped had made an impact. “I’ll be home at the end of the week.”

“I’ll bake extra and put them in the freezer,” Kimmie said, her tone lightening. “By the way, Austin might stop by, if that’s all right. He’s, well, we’ve been talking more and finding out that we have a lot in common. Besides, you can’t be the only Dunaway woman getting lucky.”

Phoebe had to bite her tongue to keep from lecturing Kimmie about allowing anyone into her life that had the kinds of aspirations that Austin Bentley had in regards to political life. Lach was of a different caliber, but it wasn’t her place to point that out. Her little sister was growing up and Phoebe needed to allow that to happen. It was a big step for both of them, but wasn’t that what life was about? Making mistakes, hopefully learning from them, and growing into a better person?

“I think that’s great, Kimmie,” Phoebe said, stretching the truth just a bit. “I’ll see you at the end of the week.”

“Thanks, Phoebe.” Kimmie meant more with that statement than a simple acknowledgement and Phoebe nodded, although she knew her sister couldn’t see. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Phoebe heard a beep come across the line, breaking up their connection. Pulling the phone away from her face, she saw that it was Timothy calling. “Kimmie, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I’ve got another call coming in.”

Phoebe said a quick goodbye and then swapped out the lines. She exchanged pleasantries with Timothy as she took off her suit jacket and then draped it over the chair in front of the small desk alongside the wall. She’d thought this call would be quick, but after hearing what he had to say, she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.

“What do you mean she quit? I thought you had this handled a couple of months ago.”

“Phoebe, you knew that Nancy couldn’t take the pressure. I told you that and you ignored my warning.” Phoebe could just see Timothy pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come back and take over. Nancy overextended our funds on this last mission. We need you here to bring in more money or we’ll have to delay any other jobs that were scheduled and put them on hold until after you finish with your father’s campaign. I hate to say I told you so, but…”

“Timothy, don’t go there,” Phoebe warned, not in the mood to hear what he was about to say. She’d overextended herself and she wasn’t so sure she had any more to give. “Just take care of things until I get back into town in a couple of days. I’ll see if I can catch a flight out earlier.”

Phoebe gave Timothy a few more instructions before disconnecting, finished undressing, and then crawled under the cool sheets on the bed before calling Lach. When she reached his voicemail, despair settled in her bones and she knew she’d have to wait for him. She left a brief message and then she lay against the soft pillow wishing it were Lach’s warm body, with her phone against her chest. Eight more weeks seemed like a lifetime.

*   *   *   *

Lach walked through the arrival ramp and into the busy airport, leaving behind the crisp air that saturated the tunnel. Even though it was April, the weather had yet to catch up with the newly arrived spring season. He immediately reached into the interior pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out his phone and turning the device back on. He cursed underneath his breath when he saw that he’d missed a couple of calls from Phoebe and one from Ethan. Before he could even listen to Phoebe’s voicemail, Crest’s name appeared on his display although it was hard to hear the ringtone over the crowds.

“Are you actually tracking my signal?” Lach asked, not bothering to look up at the baggage signs. He continued toward the escalators. “Your timing is impeccable.”

“I do my best.” Crest must be making this call outside, for the wind was muffling his voice. “Taryn is getting ready to head to Texas. Are there any special needs you have for your case before she’s gone? We’ll still have access to our secondary technological support team. They were recommended through a friend of mine in the Bureau, but they won’t provide the same kind of access Taryn does.”

“No.” Lach still needed to type up his SITREP, but he’d located the missing daughter of his client. Unfortunately it wasn’t going to be the happy ending that the man had been hoping for. “The case is wrapped up. I’ll close it tomorrow when I meet with Mr. Lochnar.”

“Assignments like these don’t always end up the way the client would like.” The sound of a car door opening and closing, along with the line going completely silent indicated that Crest had gotten into his vehicle. “You’re giving him closure though.”

Lach didn’t respond. There wasn’t a need and what could be said would be tomorrow. Finally reaching the escalator, he walked onto the first step and rode the staircase to the lower level. He hadn’t hit the bottom floor when a man wearing a ball cap caught his attention. Lach looked around, hoisting up his bag over his shoulder. He wasn’t missing anything, not that he could tell.

“Where are you?” Lach asked in a flat mission essential voice they all recognized, quickening his step to follow his new target who was now headed toward the main exit where taxis awaited new passengers.

“Leaving the office. What’s going on?”

“Start heading this way and notify the team.” Lach turned sideways to avoid hitting a woman who wasn’t watching where she was going. “Trevor Neonni just arrived in town. I can’t imagine he’s here for any other reason than a contract.”

Ryland wasn’t the only assassin who worked freelance for the highest bidder. The difference between the two was that Neonni liked the taste of death while Ryland only saw it as a task required by the job. He kept things clean in that the authorities had no evidence with regards to his profession. Neonni took contracts that allowed him to use his trademark, strangulation being his favorite method. With Ryland out of the picture, at least as far as everyone knew, Neonni had to be having the pick of the litter regarding assignments. Why would he risk returning to the Twin Cities? For all Lach knew Neonni had come back to eliminate either Emily or Taryn, acting upon Ryland’s orders. That wasn’t about to happen.

“Don’t engage,” Crest ordered in the same hard voice. “Trail the target and feed me his location through to his destination. I’ll assemble the team.”

*   *   *   *

“Lach?” Phoebe asked, holding up the phone to her ear. She sat up in bed and adjusted her eyes to the dark as she looked over at the hotel bedside clock. Rubbing the blurred vision away, she saw that it was going on four o’clock in the morning. She must have dozed off waiting for his call. “Is everything okay?”