Authors: Tina Wainscott
He obliged, gripping her behind and lifting her pelvis up. His mouth pressed over her, and he made love to her with his incredible tongue. His finger slid inside her slick canal, slowly in and out. She clutched the sheets, wanting the ecstasy to continue and wanting to come at the same time. In the end, it wasn’t her choice. The dual sensations of pleasure swept her over the edge, and she shuddered as she released a series of staccato
breaths. He continued to lave her until she came two more times. Then he reclined on his side, as relaxed as a wildcat, still stroking her stomach as she caught her breath, watching her.
“You are so gorgeous,” she whispered, her eyes drinking him. “And all things amazing.”
He took her fingers and kissed each one, then her palm. “And you are a honey-haired goddess with alabaster skin and the heart of a warrior.”
Oh, this man, what he does to me
.
She pressed him back and touched him the way he’d done to her, slowly, with a sense of reverence and awe. His skin was hot, soft, marred by the occasional scar that spoke of his lethality. Lethal, but right now, hers. To touch and stroke and love on. She straddled his hips, settling over the hard length of him, and kissed her way over his chest, the eagle tattoo, the ridges of his stomach. Shifting lower as she worked her way to his erection where she repaid the pleasure he’d given her. When his breaths came in ragged gasps, he wrapped his hand around himself. “No more. Don’t want to come this way.”
While she was gratified that she’d done well enough to bring him to the brink, it meant more that he wanted to come inside her. She worked her way back up the length of him, curling her body around his.
So hard, this man, and yet with a capability of tenderness. That’s what scared her, what threatened to topple her walls. He had crumbled them already, and, like the soldier he was, climbed over the heaps of rubble and moved ever closer to her heart.
As though he sensed her twist of emotions, he slung his leg over her lower stomach, snugging that hard body up against hers, and kissed her. They touched, explored, their mouths returning to each other time and again. He couldn’t get enough of her, he’d said, and it seemed the same was true for her. Their legs were entwined, pelvises pressed together, hands skimming and skating and squeezing.
She stroked his back, drawing her fingers down the indent of his spine, over the curve of his tight behind. There was something so tender about how he touched her now. So loving.
I just want to love you
.
His declaration resonated within her. She ached for that, to love and be loved. The realization compelled her to pull him close, wrap her arms around him, and press her mouth against his shoulder.
“Love … love me,” she whispered.
He pulled back, bracing her face and leaning close. His kiss was deeper, more ardent. She’d released him, and he made the shift from tender to sensual. It felt different, though. More … meaningful. Beyond sex.
Julian leaned over to take a condom from his wallet, then sat and rolled it over his erection. He guided her over to straddle him. She held his shoulders as she eased down onto him, inch by inch, and rocked her head back as he filled her. Filled completely, in ways beyond the physical. It stole her breath away.
“Is it too much?” he asked. “This position allows deep penetration.”
She shook her head, making her hair swing out with her movement. “It’s perfect.”
They started moving and it was even more perfect. They drove deeper, harder. She liked this position, where they faced one another. Loved watching his face as it flushed with pleasure and exertion. After several minutes, he lifted her, his hand braced on her behind, and lowered her to the bed. Without breaking their intimate contact, he positioned himself over her and now he took control. She wrapped her legs around his waist and found his rhythm again. Her fingers dug into his back as the pressure built inside her.
She grinned as he whispered those beautiful words in Spanish, especially with her name laced within. As their pace quickened, the pleasure built, and built, and then roared out of her. Literally, because the scream that poured out was hers.
He joined her, both in the sound and in the orgasm, his cock throbbing inside her. She couldn’t get enough of this either, but she didn’t want to think beyond this moment. His eyes were bright and glassy. He leaned down and gave her a rough, quick kiss, then rolled so that she was sprawled on top of him.
“Now you can rest, Mollie,” he said on a breathless whisper.
Her body a bag of bones, she could only nod. Yes, now she would rest.
* * *
Julian was sure that the guys would see what had happened during their “rest” break the moment they laid eyes on him as they reconvened in the jet. Not the sex part, because they had that figured out. The falling in love part. But everybody was all business, and needed to be, too. Which was damned hard whenever he looked at Mollie and thought about what she might have to do.
Having most of his team around him helped to ease the tension coiling through his body. If they went to Plan B, Mollie was in the best hands she could be in. Julian would much rather have her in
his
hands, and have everything be over. Which was odd, because he lived for the mission, for the danger. But those missions didn’t usually involve putting a woman he cared about into the domain of outlaw bikers. When SEALs were called in, there was already somebody in danger. It wasn’t their place to put her there.
They ascended the steps to the jet’s door and then filed down the narrow aisle to where they’d had their meeting earlier. Saxby stood and greeted each of the team with their particular handshake and a backslapping hug. His gaze landed on Mollie, and it’d only taken him point-two seconds for him to notice her. Typical Sax.
He took Mollie’s hand in a gentle hold and bowed. “Nice to meet you in person.”
Julian was going to deck him if he kissed the back of her hand.
She smiled. “You, too. Hey, is that a bullet in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
Sax pointed at her and winked, making a clicking sound with his mouth. “You’re funny. I like you.” His light green eyes shifted in Julian’s direction, as though he sensed the beginning of his seething annoyance. He released Mollie’s hand and added, “In a purely platonic way, of course.”
It’d been a long time since Julian felt possessive. Not since his teenage days when he’d been dating Susana. Apparently he hadn’t grown out of it, even with guys for whom
he would put his life on the line.
Chase pressed a button and the floor between the two sofas slid open. A table rose up. “This serves as a conference table. One of our J-men likes to dabble in mechanics.”
Rath and Risk knelt down to check out the mechanism, gearheads that they were. They asked a couple of questions before sitting down. Risk, Julian, and Mollie took the couch on the right while the others sat opposite.
Chase laid out a map with Hidden Assets highlighted in yellow. “I’m going to be in a van parked here, along the street just up from the lounge. Mollie will be with me. Sax and Risk will be inside the lounge, advising us from there. Julian, you and Rath will be in a rented car, watching the rear entrance. A number of women being escorted out won’t be hard to miss. We follow the vehicles. Once we have a location, I call the police chief.”
Julian prayed to God that it played out that way. “And Plan B?” he forced himself to say.
Chase pressed another button and a flat-screen television slid down. It turned out to be a computer monitor or at least doubled as one. Chase set a laptop on the edge of the table and within a few seconds a satellite map of the bar’s location filled the screen.
“Mollie goes in pretending to want a job. Her G-patch will be transmitting to this mapping software.” He panned out to show a yellow flashing blip. “That’s this patch. I’ve got one on Vivi, too.” He panned out even more, and there in Miami was a blue blip. Chase met Julian’s gaze. “To assure you that they work.”
Julian nodded his thanks. “They stay on even if the person gets wet?”
“The adhesive is waterproof, tested on a speedboat. Wind tested at speeds of Mach zero-point-eight, courtesy of being attached to the outer surface of ol’ Bessie here.” He patted the wall of the jet.
“You call your jet
Bessie
?” Julian asked. “I thought Rath calling his Harley Betsy was odd enough, but to call this”—he gestured to the multimillion-dollar beauty—“Bessie … sorry, no disrespect intended, but just sayin’.”
Chase chuckled, clearly not feeling disrespected. “I usually call it my mofo tin can. I was being facetious. And I encourage my teammates to speak their mind. Likewise,
I’ll do the same.” The look he was giving Julian said,
Be warned
. “So suffice it to say that if Mollie showers, she’ll still have a functioning transmitter. If they strap her to a plane, she’ll be traceable.” Chase’s attention shifted back to the screen, which he focused in on the bar area again.
“I want that software on my phone, too,” Julian said.
“You will all have it. So wherever they take Mollie, we’ll be right there.” Chase’s gaze zeroed in on her. “How are you doing? Still ready to go in if it comes to that?”
She nodded, but she was worrying her lower lip with her teeth.
“Because you have to be one hundred percent,” he prodded.
“I am. Just the thought of seeing my sister … a hundred and twenty percent.”
Chase gave her an affirming nod. “I’ve had my techs working on audio surveillance in conjunction with the G-patch, but we haven’t been able to come up with something small enough yet. Current technology is too big. You may be searched, as you mentioned, or taking off your clothes. I’ve never had a situation where any kind of device might be so … exposed, pardon the pun.”
Sax’s head swiveled like the girl’s in
The Exorcist
. Risk, interestingly, didn’t even blink. Those two were the notorious ladies’ men on the team.
Chase removed a chip from the cabinet and crooked his hand. “Mollie, give me your cell phone.” He snapped off the back, inserted the chip, then closed it again. “That will give us audio, plus it acts as a backup GPS transmitter.”
Julian tried not to look so relieved, but he obviously failed because Chase said, “Feel better?”
“Yes. But it’s doubtful these guys are going to let her keep a phone. Especially if—and likely when—they snatch her.”
“We’ll still hear what’s going on,” Chase said. “We can’t do much more. The last thing we need is to give them any reason to be suspicious.”
Julian did his best to sound objective. “What about some other kind of distance listening device? Something we can use from outside the building?”
“I’ve thought about that, but one of our remote devices requires a window to
catch the vibrations. The other requires a receiver that will be obvious as hell. And considering that there will be music and a hundred conversations going on inside, I don’t see how effective it would be.”
Chase addressed them all. “The issue we need to hammer down is how long we wait until moving in once we pin down the Ball’s location. If we move in too early, nothing will be going on.”
“And if we wait too long, something
will
be going on,” Julian said. “Like rape.”
“The moment we ascertain that things are in motion, we call in the cops. Unfortunately, to make this stick in the courts, they have to find evidence of foul play.”
“Sir,” Sax said. “We’ve learned to work around limitations.”
Chase gave him a crooked smile. “That’s why I hired you.” His gaze scanned the group. “I’m also counting on your cool execution and ability to look beyond any personal connection to the case.” That he aimed at Julian, who nodded.
“Point taken.”
“Good.” Chase stood and took a box out of the cabinet nearby. He set it on the table and opened it, revealing a small, flesh-colored patch. “This is the G-patch. Come here, Mollie.”
Julian slid off the couch so she could follow. He wanted to pull her against him, tell her she didn’t have to do this. But she did.
Mollie turned around and held up her hair. Chase cleaned the skin at the base of her skull, then applied the adhesive to what looked like a square bandage and pressed it to her skin. He held his fingers there for a minute, though it felt like an hour to Julian. She looked into his eyes, since she was facing him, trying to shore up her bravado. But he could see her fear, too.
Damn, he wished he could do this for her.
“You might be removing all your clothing, but I doubt they would make you pin up your hair. Just be aware that if you dance, avoid hanging your head upside down or flipping your hair too much.” Chase finally released the pressure, drawing his hand down and leaving it on her shoulder. “You can do this, Mollie.”
She turned to face him. “I know.”
Chase planted his hands on the map spread out on the table. “Now we need to figure out exact placement, tactical strategy, and equipment. I’m leaving the military maneuvers to you while I monitor the surveillance equipment. I don’t have your particular skills, but I’m on hand if needed. I know my way around weapons.”
Knew his way? The guy had a bloody arsenal, along with a private shooting range. “So, chief, you ever going to tell us what your background is?” Julian asked.
Chase didn’t even flinch at the question. “I went through hell to leave my past behind. I’m not trudging through it again to sate your curiosity.”
All righty then
. Julian nodded. “Point taken.”
Chase moved right past his nosiness, his expression neutral. “You and Rath will be monitoring the exterior of the building.” He opened a drawer in a credenza, then set two communications systems on the table. “You’re familiar with bone conduction headphones, right?”
Julian nodded. “We call them bones. These are magnetostrictive transducers, right?”
“Correct,” Chase said.
Julian touched the microphone as he turned to Mollie. “This picks up the slightest whisper. It works by …” He waved his hand. “You don’t need to know this part. Why don’t you sit, relax?”