Dance With Me (6 page)

Callie glanced in the direction Chris had stormed off in and then looked down and sighed. “Rebecca, I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“You want to know why?” Chris interrupted, his voice low and angry. “This is why.” He shoved a tablet into Rebecca’s hands.

Rebecca watched the video on the screen in horror. It was the short clip the news had aired the previous January of Chris and the female soldier while they were held captive. There was more to the footage than the twenty seconds Rebecca saw, but she didn’t need to watch any more. But what did this have to do with Rick?

“Wha…?”

“He was
there
,” Chris interrupted. “He was
fucking there.
He bound us hand and foot, every night. Brought us dirty water and scraps. He was with
them
.” The last word was almost a growl and Rebecca blinked at him in disbelief.

“But…but he hangs drywall…” Rebecca looked back down at the screen. Rick? Friendly neighbor Rick, who believed that most people were essentially good, was a
terrorist
? Whoa, hang on. “If he’s a terrorist, why hasn’t he been arrested or…something?”

Chris turned his back to her and jerked a hand through his buzzed hair. “Because he’s not a terrorist.”

“Um, I don’t understand.” Rebecca handed the tablet to Callie and frowned. It seemed pretty cut and dry to her. Either he was or wasn’t.

“He’s undercover. He’s military, but not. It’s hard to explain.” Chris turned to Callie and pulled her into his arms for a quick hug. Callie stroked her finger down his cheek and gave him a peck on the lips before whispering something and disappearing with the tablet.

“So try to explain.” Rebecca put her hands on her hips. It couldn’t be that hard.

Chris sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Sit down.” His voice was calmer as he gestured in the direction of the living room. Rebecca walked stiffly that way and sat on the sofa.

Chris followed her and sat in a recliner where he could watch her. He took a deep breath and began. “The military recruits certain soldiers, marines, seamen, and airmen in the intelligence field for a special purpose. They’re usually reported as missing or dead and are wiped from the face of the earth. They are stripped of their name and rank and given a new title. They’re highly trained, very intelligent, and essentially answer to no one. They’re invisible. It’s probably a fact that they have actually saved this country and possibly this planet more than once. But we’ll never know about it.” Chris linked his fingers together and looked down. “For all intents and purposes, they’re the assassins of the United States military.”

“Like spies and the CIA?” Rebecca stared at him, her eyes wide and her mind racing.

“No. The CIA is restricted to international intelligence. They can’t operate within the borders of the US. And these guys don’t gather intel to report back to someone the way spies do. They gather it and take action. They call in reinforcements
only
when they have to. They’re not like us, because the government will deny any association with them if they’re caught. We call them Black Ops. They go into it expecting to die. That’s why we call them that.” Chris looked back up at Rebecca and continued, his voice firm. “The
only
reason I’m telling you this is so you will understand why you should stay away from Rick Jones. In twelve years of active duty in the intelligence field, I have
never
met someone in Black Ops. It can’t be good that he’s here, and it can’t be good that he’s showing an interest in you. Please, Rebecca, stay away from him.”

Rebecca nodded, unable to speak. She would never have guessed any of it. It seemed so…deceitful and malicious. Military spies? Rebecca didn’t have a lot of faith in the government itself, and even had a few conspiracy theories of her own, but…
this?
“A-all right,” she stuttered. “I’ll keep my distance. Thank you.” She stopped, unsure what she should say next.

Callie came into the room and sat down in Chris’s lap. Chris wrapped his huge beefy arms around her and buried his face against her neck. Callie took his hand and watched Rebecca carefully.

Rebecca grew uncomfortable beneath her friend’s knowing gaze and stood quickly. “I’m gonna go now. Thanks again.” She fled, her mind racing too fast to process anything else.

She drove home on autopilot, barely noticing the storm gathering around her. Chris had never actually
said,
"Rick Jones isn’t Rick Jones, he’s Black Ops, and he could get you killed," but the implication had been made. Rebecca turned the idea over and over in her mind until she pulled into her driveway and cut the ignition.

As though by magnetic force, her head turned in the direction of Rick’s duplex. There were no lights on, but the car was parked in the driveway.
Is he in there? What’s he doing? Spy stuff?

She watched his house, barely aware of the flashes of lightning amid the downpour.
What kind of person can watch two people being tortured for that long?
Rebecca knew, though. It took a Uniform, a special kind of dark soul. And a liar. Rick Jones, or whatever his name was, was just one more person in a long line of people who had abused her trust.

Suddenly angry, Rebecca opened the door and got out of her car. He’d made her like him, with his good looks and sad smiles. She’d felt a stirring of a long-dead female need to heal a broken man. But Rick Jones was not a broken man. He was evil, pure and simple—and a
liar
. And Rebecca had already had enough evil and lies in her life. She clenched her fists by her sides and narrowed her eyes. With quick, angry strides she crossed the street and banged on his door.

Chapter 5

Dammit.
Someone was knocking at the door. Rick leaned his head against the wall and looked down at his engorged penis clenched in his fist. He slowed his hand and stopped.
Fuck!
He was so close he could almost taste it. He was sitting on the floor of the bedroom, his pants undone, stroking himself to the type of orgasm he’d almost forgotten about.

It had been so long, so
damn
long, since jerking off had been anything more than part of a morning routine. Get up, brush his teeth, shave, shower, and jerk off. He’d gotten no real pleasure from the act in years. Even the quick lay in Thailand had been mediocre at best. But that redhead, Rebecca, had left Rick with mental pictures he couldn’t shake, and a longing he hadn’t felt since…well, he didn’t remember when.

Rick considered finishing himself off before opening the door, or maybe ignoring whoever it was altogether. But the banging continued, and, with a grimace, he tucked himself back into his slacks and stood. There was a painfully obvious tent in the front of the pants, and Rick made a few adjustments so his dick didn’t greet the guest before he could.

The pounding on the door was relentless, almost nonstop and Rick shouted, “I’m coming!” as he headed in that direction.
Or I would have been, anyway.

When he reached the door, Rick pasted his happy-to-see-you-neighbor smile on his face and jerked it open.
Shit. Rebecca.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could she smiled at him and started talking.

“Hi there! Just thought I’d stop by and see how you were after our little coffee date ended so quickly.” Rebecca pushed her way inside and Rick closed the door and turned to her, wary. “Oh, I see you don’t have your furniture moved in yet. Funny, I would have thought you would at least have a television. Or a couch. Or anything that might seem, oh I don’t know, normal. Like you actually plan on staying around. Strange, huh neighbor?”

Rick eyed her suspiciously. Something was off. Her voice was heavily laced with sarcasm, and despite the wide smile on her face, Rebecca was shooting fire from her eyes.

“Uh, my furniture isn’t going to be delivered until…”

“Save it,” she bit out. “Don’t lie to me. Not one more lie, do you hear me? I understand you’ve got to ‘keep your cover’ or whatever,” she used little quotations in the air and continued, “But you don’t get to take me on a date, be supernice and understanding, and still get to lie to me. Get it?”

Paulson. Fuck.
It didn’t take two seconds to figure out how she knew. Somehow Paulson had heard about that little coffee date and warned her away.
Damn that son of a bitch!
His cover was shot to hell because he couldn’t resist having coffee with a spitfire redhead. He considered keeping up the ruse of Rick Jones for a split second before deciding it would be best to cut his losses. The longer he denied it, the harder Paulson, Rebecca—and God knew who else—would look.

Rick gave Rebecca a hard look and said, “Wait here.” He stalked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. The way he saw it, Rick could send her on her way and disappear. Or—and for some reason this was the option he liked—he could show her who he was before he left. Show her the major. Because it’s not like she’d ever see him again.

He’d been planning to do the right thing…leave her alone and continue his mission as though he’d never seen her. But she’d come here, dripping with rain and bristling with offended indignation. And so damn beautiful he couldn’t see his mission past her.

Fuck it. Let her see.
Rick sighed and pulled out the contacts. Once he’d disposed of the silicon nose and chin, he pulled the cotton from his cheeks. Rick Jones was officially dead now. The major would have to start over.

With a curse, the major marched back into the entryway, wiping the glue and concealing paint from his face with a wet cloth. Rebecca froze when she saw him, her eyes widening and her mouth opening. He snorted softly. Figured. He’d been attractive enough as Rick Jones, but when the major showed up…well it shouldn’t matter. She was a liability.

The major didn’t bother trying to slouch or disguise his voice. Rick Jones had a smooth voice and lousy posture. The major spoke in rough, clipped syllables and stood tall. “You realize, don’t you, that you have caused me no end of trouble.” He shook his head at her. “Now I have a shit-ton of work to do.”

“Rick?” she squeaked out and took a step back.

He cursed softly. She’d picked the wrong damn time to be afraid. “Rick Jones is fiction. He’s not real.”

“So who are you?” Her voice was soft, low, and the fear he heard there made his gut clench. She had nothing to fear from him, but there’s no way she could know that.

“The major. Or just Major.”
Why did I tell her that?
He never told anyone…anything.

She lifted one eyebrow. “The major? Seriously? Come on, you can do better than that. What’s your name?” The fear was still present in her voice, but that fire was returning. Good. He liked the fire. The fear roused instincts in him he had no business acting on.

“I don’t have one. Not anymore. The few people that know me call me Major.” Or Borg. But he wasn’t going to let
anyone
outside of the team call him Borg. That was ridiculous.

Rebecca nodded slowly, licked her lips and looked away. “Okay, Major, then.” She looked back at him and swallowed before asking, “Why me? What possible reason could you have to take me out for coffee? I don’t understand.”

The major hung his head, unable to meet her gaze. “That was a serious lapse in judgment. I’m sorry.” He looked back up at her just in time to see the hurt look in her eyes before her expression became shuttered. He clenched his fists by his side and tensed against the urge to tell her more.

“I see,” she murmured. “I’m a ‘lapse in judgment.’ How very flattering.” Rebecca’s soft voice, so calm and cool, was a direct contradiction to the brimstone shooting from her eyes. But at least she wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

Rebecca pivoted to walk away and the major knew he should let her go. She’d be better off nursing her hurt feelings at home. In a few days this whole fiasco would be nothing but a memory and Rebecca would carry on as if he’d never even been here.

Something about that last thought made the major angry enough to scream and he couldn’t stand it.
Eleven fucking years, and not one person knows
me.
Not one goddamn person
.

The door had barely closed behind her before he jerked it open. Rebecca had darted off and was almost out of his yard before the major spurred himself into action. He ran across his yard and the street before catching up to her in front of her duplex.

In eleven years the major had never even had the
urge
to tell anyone about himself, and all of a sudden a hell-on-wheels redhead changed that.

Rebecca had almost made it to her driveway when the major caught her by the arm.

“Wait just a damn minute!” He had to yell over the heavy torrent of rain. Lightning flashed nearby and a deep, growling thunder nearly drowned out his words.

Rebecca turned to him, swinging. Out of instinct he caught her small fist in his hand and twisted her arm behind her back until she was pressed against him. The major loosened his grip, wary of hurting her, but kept her restrained against his body.

“I didn’t ask you out for coffee so I could get information from you.” He needed her to know that, if nothing else.

“Oh yeah?” She spat out at him. “Then why did you?”

Uncontrollable anger built and bubbled inside him until it threatened to spill over. He’d given his entire fucking life for his country. Surely he was entitled to coffee with a knockout redhead now and then. She couldn’t possibly understand the deep ache that had been growing inside of him, or how it had faded in her presence. She didn’t know how it confused him, this need he felt to be near her. The major glared at her, struggling to find the words. But there were no words.

“Because I want you,” he finally whispered as the anger drained out of him as quickly as it had come. Rebecca’s eyes widened and she sputtered for a moment. The major didn’t give her time to complete the thought before he lowered his lips to hers. His dick, so close to orgasm less than fifteen minutes earlier, stood up and saluted.

He knew she felt it. She had to, as tightly as he held her. The major released her wrist and slid his hands up her back. She felt so soft and warm that he couldn’t resist framing her face with his hands and deepening the kiss.