Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (35 page)

“I’ll show you that you can,” he promised.

Her stupid heart accelerated so fast she felt like she was pulling negative G’s. Olivia was in big trouble. He was just piling on the feelings now, until she was drowning in them.

They made out for an embarrassingly long time. She let it happen. It felt like they’d been apart for weeks. He clenched on her waist and yanked her down in the seat until her legs were wrapped around him, their lower bodies pressed together. His hands braced on her ribcage over her shirt, settled just below her breasts and his thumbs lingered dangerously close, filling her with torturous anticipation.

“Have I mentioned you make me crazy?” he said in a low, hurried voice when she shifted to get his hand where she wanted it, the warmth of his palm soaking into her breast.

“Yeah, right back at you. You wouldn’t come home with me last night and it’s been forever, Ethan.”

“I’m aware.” He nibbled on her ear, and the warm breath rolling over her sensitive skin gave her chills.

“Forever,” she groaned, shifting again so she could feel him hard between her legs, “and no use of my right hand.”

“Fucking hell.” His eyes went black and he slammed his hot mouth into her, greedy and urgent, and then abruptly he pulled back. All the way back. So he was in the chair across from her, his head in his hands and breathing heavy.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“We’re not the only people on this plane and I can’t do any of the stuff I’d like to right now.”

She felt a smug smile stretch on her face, but the ache for him was getting unbearable. It had nothing to do with him throwing the word
love
around. Yeah, she could keep telling herself that. Under his intense gaze, she worried that he was seeing what she could not.

His phone chimed, and when he glanced at the screen, a large smile spread on his face. He passed it to her. It was a series of pictures from Shawn and Kara’s wedding. The last was of her and Ethan on the dance floor, his head bent to hers, his lips delivering that nuclear kiss. They looked very much in love.

Like the moment she’d seen the giraffe in Africa, the words spilled from her mouth without thought. “God, that’s a beautiful picture.”

Ethan’s head tilted, his smile deepening. “You think so? I agree.”

They landed, and it was a steam sauna outside.

“This humidity is offensive,” she said. “People live here, by choice?” He gave her a pointed look, and that was when she realized she had no idea where in Kentucky they were. The airport was too small to be Louisville. “Where are we?”

“Owensboro.” She made a face to let him know that didn’t help. “Western Kentucky.”

He grabbed both of their bags and started off toward the fence and she followed, trying not to sweat in the heat. With the breeze, it was pleasant, but when it stopped, the full intensity of the sun was brutal. She shielded her eyes with her cast and spied a woman who waved just beyond the fence.

“Is that—”

“My sister,” he said. “Natalie.”

“You’re related to that tiny woman?”

“I can hear you,” Natalie said. “I’m normal-sized, he’s the giant.” They cleared the gate, and Natalie threw her arms around her big brother, who looked almost twice her size. His sister was approximately Olivia’s age, warm honey highlights in her hair and lighter brown eyes the color of maple syrup. Natalie examined Olivia with interest. How many women had he brought home to the family? Natalie made it seem like that had never happened.

When Olivia extended a hand for a handshake, Natalie stared at her like she was ridiculous and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Bless your heart,” his sister said, motioning to Olivia’s wrist, “what happened?”

“It’s a long story, and one I don’t want to repeat,” Ethan said, “so I’ll tell it when we get to Mom and Dad’s.”

They piled into Natalie’s mini-van, complete with car seats and crushed Cheerios. The CIA operative’s sister was a normal math teacher and mother of two. Crazy. Ten minutes into the drive, Natalie asked him something in a language Olivia didn’t recognize.

“Is that Croatian?”

“Yeah,” he said, then responded to Natalie, and whatever he said, his sister found amusing.

“How about English?” Olivia was filled with equal amounts of annoyance and desire to hear more from him.

“She told me you’re very pretty.”

It annoyed Olivia so much she wanted to regain the upper hand. “You know I can tell you’re lying, even when it’s in other languages.”

Natalie shot an epic grin at her brother. “I like her.”

Olivia sat in the large queen-sized bed, his mother’s beautiful handmade quilt gathered around her, and she glared out at the morning light pouring in through the open blinds. Apparently, the spy’s parents were rather strict about their sleeping arrangements, and she was sure Ethan was serious when he’d told her to get her stuff together because they were going to a hotel.

That hadn’t gone over so well with Randall and Hana Foster. In fact, after she’d talked Ethan in to staying, he’d lingered in her room for a while and a floorboard creaked, revealing Randall’s position outside the door. “I am thirty-five goddamn years old,” Ethan had declared loudly.

“Don’t say goddamn in my goddamn house,” Randall had answered back.

They’d had dinner with Natalie’s rambunctious children talking non-stop through the meal. Finally, Hana set them loose in the basement and the adults finished their wine on the covered balcony overlooking the Ohio River that snaked below. In the distance, a blue iron bridge crossed the river and beneath it, a gorgeous boardwalk with water fountains and swinging benches.

Ethan gave his family an extremely edited version of the events. They knew he was CIA and worked in Europe, and little else. They hardly ever saw him and their support of his line of work was impressive. He’d sacrificed his personal life for the job, and they sacrificed right along with him.

Now, this morning, she was regretting not going to the hotel. It had been a millennium since she’d truly been with him, and every inch of her craved that. She missed his touch. She missed everything about him and she knew if she called for him, he’d do everything he could to get to her. And if he called for her, she’d come running.

Then, without calling for him, the door to the guest room burst open and Ethan flew in, a determined look fixed in his intense eyes.

“This is unacceptable. Get dressed, we’re going out.” No hello, or good morning, nothing. These were orders from him, and she made sure her displeasure was clear. His expression adjusted and filled with need. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock. Good morning. Please, for the love of God, put on some clothes so I can take you to a place where I can take those clothes back off.”

She scrambled out of bed, at least as eager as he was, but he gave a noise of satisfaction that made her pause. His eyes weren’t on her face, they were on the oversized white undershirt she was wearing. His shirt.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he said. “I thought you liked the way I look at you.”

She reached for the pair of jeans she’d discarded last night on a chair. “I do, but not when you’re being all smug about it, like you’ve just won some battle.”

The smile. “Get used to it. You think you’re not in love with me? I’ll be accepting your surrender by lunchtime.”

-25-

Ethan’s father’s pick-up truck sped across the narrow road that cut through fields where the corn was knee-high, and Olivia tried to remain on the defensive from Ethan, who sat behind the wheel. He was being much too cocky about all this.

The road was tiny and the truck huge, so each time a car passed going the opposite direction she instinctively leaned away, sure they were going to sideswipe them. When they passed a large green tractor, Ethan had to put one wheel into the edge of the road where the asphalt abruptly stopped and gave way to grass. The tractor driver threw a polite wave as they rumbled by, and then continued on up a hill.

Ethan turned left off the road, and through the open white gate of what appeared to be a farm.

“Where are we going? Whose place is this?”

“Brent’s, a guy I went to high school with. I got his okay to be out here.” Ethan said the word
high
funny, the
hi
long and drawn-out.

“
High
school?” she repeated back to him. “What’s with your voice?”

He straightened behind the wheel, a scowl threatening his expression. “Sometimes that happens when I come back here.”

“Holy shit, a southern accent,” she said, thrilled. Sexy.

The single-lane road turned to mud and gravel as they followed the line of trees separating the fields, the morning sun rising rapidly and bringing up the temperature with it. The truck parked to the side of two large oak trees, and he turned to face her as he killed the engine. “We have to walk from here. It’s not far.”

He pulled a cooler and a heavy blanket from the bed of the truck. She tripped on a rock as they crossed a shallow creek and grabbed a handful of his shirt to keep from falling. He almost dropped the cooler to grab her, the ice inside sloshing loudly. There was a break in the trees. She stepping into the clearing and met a wall of bleached cinderblock.

The large, old grain silo had crumbled down so it formed a C shape, the tallest portion that still stood not much taller than him. Inside the circle foundation, there was only long grass and a few flowering weeds. He set down the cooler and spread the blanket out, flattening the grass beneath it.

“What is this place?”

“This is where Brent and I would go when we wanted to get away from our parents.” He took her hand and gently pulled her to stand beside him on the blanket, and his expression showed amusement. “Sometimes, we brought along—”

“Girls.”

“Yeah.”

Oh, this was strategic. The creek gurgling nearby, the dragonflies buzzing overhead, and the yellow sunlight filtered through trees . . . this place wasn’t just sexy. It was romantic.

He braced his hands on his hips, showing off the lean sculpture of his frame, and gave her that intense look. “I have to tell you something.”

Her pulse picked up, but she tried to disguise that and gave him a skeptical look. “You brought me here to talk?”

One of his large hands settled in the small of her back, urged her forward until she was pressed against him and his other hand found its way to that same spot, locking her in his arms. “Among other things. I have plans, Olivia, plans of getting you to tell me what I want to hear.”

“Spoken like a true CIA agent.”

He gave her a smile that would please the devil. Her breath caught and the irises of his eyes heated to inky pools, darker than black lava. She didn’t have a chance in hell. His hands worked their way beneath her shirt, sliding boldly to the front and up, and cupped her breasts as he kissed her. Passionate and uncontrolled. No need for restraint and no need to rush. It was just them now, no schedule to keep.

“Do you want me?” he asked.

With every cell in her body. “Yes.”

“Why?” He lifted the shirt from her, freeing it over the unsexy cast on her wrist, dropping it to the blanket at their feet. The tough skin of his fingertips followed the edge of her simple white cotton bra, dragging slowly across one breast, down the hollow between, and over the top of the other, following the band around her body toward the back.