Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9) (4 page)

Those dark eyes stared into his, full of new understanding…and a love that made his heart pound. Then, without a word, she went up on tiptoe and covered his mouth with hers.

The feel of her mouth on his tripped some primal switch in his brain.

Just that fast all the fear and dread transformed into lust. He wanted to own her, strip her naked and drive deep inside her right that instant, leave his mark on her so that when she walked out that door, she’d feel him for days afterward and be reminded every moment they were apart why she needed to come home alive.

Seizing her hips, Matt lifted her and whirled them around, then backed her up against the wall beside the door, their mouths still fused. Briar whimpered into his mouth and met every desperate stroke of his tongue, rubbing her body against him. The animal inside him took over.

Seams tore as they fought to peel shirts and pants away, then he ripped off her panties and grabbed the cheeks of her ass, hoisting her up against him once more. She wound her strong legs around his waist and ground against his rigid cock while he continued with the punishing kiss, his entire body aching with the need to plunge into her slick heat. Her taut, bare breasts rubbed against his chest as he devoured her mouth, her wet folds sliding up and down his abdomen, the feel of her making him insane.

With a low growl he spun them again and stalked out into the bedroom to lay her across the foot of their king-size bed. Briar welcomed his weight with an encouraging moan and hooked her ankles around his thighs, giving her better leverage to rub her open sex against him.

Frantic now, desperate to join them in the most intimate way possible, he released her mouth and blazed a path of hungry, nipping kisses down her chin, over the side of her neck, lower to her breasts. The pert brown nipples waiting for him were already hard and he couldn’t wait a moment longer to taste them.

He dragged his tongue across one, then raked his teeth across it, reveling in the way her fingers bit into his scalp, urging him closer, begging for more. There was nothing gentle in the way he handled her, the hunger inside him too great. Her desperate cries rang throughout the room as he sucked and nipped.

“Matt, now,” she begged, her voice hoarse with desire as she tried to drag him up and impale herself on his rigid length. “I’m so ready.”

Releasing her swollen nipple, he seized handfuls of her hair and fisted his hands tight as he brought his mouth down on hers. He drove his tongue deep into her mouth, an unspoken claim at the exact same moment he entered her, burying himself to the hilt in her sweet warmth.

Briar jerked slightly then let out a keening cry that spurred him on even more, writhing in his possessive grip. He didn’t wait, didn’t give her time to adjust to the intrusion. Instead he held her down and took her with hard, rough strokes, the desperate sounds of pleasure she made ratcheting his need higher.

Ecstasy swamped him, building hot and fast as he pumped, his tongue tangled with hers, fists clenched in her silky hair. She was fucking his and no one was taking her from him. He was going to own her the same way she owned him, body and soul. He wanted her to remember this every moment she was away from him: the way he felt inside of and against her, the way he tasted.

Her muscles strained as she rolled her hips, rubbing her clit against his body and meeting each forceful thrust. He swallowed her plaintive moan, pulled one hand from her hair to slide an arm beneath her hips and lock her to him, adding pressure and friction where she needed it most.

Sweat rolled down his spine but the hunger kept driving him, each agonizing thrust taking them both closer to the edge. He caught the hitch in her breath, felt her tremble and open her legs wider, her inner muscles milking him.

You’re mine
, he told her with every plunge of his hips, every demanding stroke of his tongue.

A second later Briar tore her mouth free and twisted her head aside, an expression of erotic ecstasy etched into her face.

The sight destroyed what little was left of his control.
He’d
made her feel that good. And she trusted him enough to let go completely, make herself vulnerable to him, still loved him even though he already knew he’d lost the battle to keep her sidelined on this op.

Her core contracted around his cock, and her wild moans of release pushed him over the edge. He plunged over it with a loud groan, his body shuddering with every wrenching pulse as the orgasm slammed into him.

When it finally faded he eased down to cover her, his face resting in the hollow of her throat. But the best part was the way she held him close, her arms and legs wrapped around him, one hand stroking the back of his hair.

Matt pressed closer and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in her scent. The frantic edge was gone, leaving only a stark bleakness behind. He couldn’t protect her this time. Couldn’t be there to keep her safe, and it was tearing him up.

“I love you,” she murmured.

Pushing out a sigh, he raised his head and stared down at her. Her dark eyes were solemn, full of resignation. “I love you too.” More than anything.

And because of that, it didn’t matter what he felt or what he wanted. He had no choice but to accept her decision to go through with this. Accept that her job and career required her to take risks he couldn’t protect her from.

Even if he fucking hated it.

Forcing that thought aside, he lowered his head to kiss her tenderly, his lips lingering on hers. He didn’t know how to shelve the worry and his protectiveness when it came to her work, but he had to find a way. If they were going to stay together and make this work, then he couldn’t ask her not to go on ops. God knew relationships were hard enough, but their jobs made it a hundred times more difficult and he couldn’t let his fears tear them apart.

“I do trust you out there,” he murmured against her mouth. “And fuck, I’m sorry I…” He pressed his face against her hair, took a deep breath, pulling in her enticing scent. “I know you’d never ask me not to be who I am. I shouldn’t have done it to you.”

“You’re right, on both counts,” she answered, her voice drowsy with satisfaction. Her fingers kneaded the tense muscles at the nape of his neck. “So let’s put that behind us and move on now, okay?”

He nodded against her hair, glad that she wasn’t still angry and that she’d forgiven him. God he wished he could go with her now though, be there to help and guard her until this was over.

But that was impossible. He was commander for both HRT teams, and they’d all been damn busy lately. The way the world was going, they’d be busy for the foreseeable future.

“How long do we have left?” he murmured a few minutes later.

She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, then back at him. “Not long.” He heard the regret in her voice, knew she hated the thought of leaving him too. That soothed the rawness inside him a little, but not much.

He slid his fingers into her hair, stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones. She was so beautiful and strong. This woman was his whole world. “Then let’s not waste any of it,” he murmured, and covered her mouth with his again.

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

The target still hadn’t come out of the hotel yet and Georgia was starting to get antsy.

She’d been waiting here, stretched out across the back seat of the stolen car and hidden from view, for nearly two hours now. Staying put much longer wasn’t possible. And that wasn’t her only problem at the moment.

Something was wrong with her.

She’d first noticed the nausea about an hour ago but it was progressively getting worse, along with the other symptoms. She was wearing a heavy coat and huddled under a thick blanket to hide her and her weapon from anyone walking past, and yet she was freezing. It seemed she grew colder with each passing minute.

Keeping watch on the front doors through her scope, she locked her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as another wave of cold swept through her, wracking her body with shivers. She was getting worried. Her mouth and throat were dry and she was having dizzy spells. Her head pounded and her stomach churned.

She tried to think what it might be. Food poisoning? Doubtful. All she’d eaten today was a protein bar, some fruit she’d brought with her, and a coffee from a drive thru.

She swallowed again as another wave of nausea hit her, this one stronger than all the others. Sweat broke out on her forehead and across her upper lip. Giving her head a little shake in the hopes of clearing it, she put her eye back to the scope. But this time she saw two sets of doors at the front entrance, and four guards instead of two.

Blinking to clear her vision, she struggled to focus on the target before her. It didn’t help. And the fatigue that had begun to creep through her system was making it all too tempting to put her head down and sleep right here.

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, used the sharp pain to snap her out of the dangerous pull to sleep, a trick she’d been taught long ago by one of her instructors. Her muscles cramped with the effort of lying still for so long but she grimly held her position.

Rossland would be coming out those doors anytime now, and when he did, he was
hers
. But she couldn’t afford to blow her chance and get either killed or arrested in the process.

More minutes ticked past. Guests trickled out of the doors in small groups, none of them containing Rossland or his guards. There was a possibility he’d left around back, but she didn’t think so. The rear exit was too closed-off, too tight, the perfect place for an ambush. No, his security would want to take him straight out the front, thinking safety lay in numbers.

Her stomach suddenly twisted hard and there was no fighting this one. She gagged, turned her head and emptied what little had been in her stomach all over the right rear foot well.

Gasping and shaking, she wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. She’d carried out missions before while ill, but this was different. Considering the people hunting her and their skillsets, she was pretty sure they’d poisoned her somehow. But with what? When?

Her mind churned as she reviewed her movements over the past thirty-odd hours. She’d been so sure that no one had been able to follow her.

No one had tailed her on the way to and from her surveillance op this morning, and no one had followed her to the motel later on. All her anti-trespassing devices had been undisturbed as far as she could tell, so no one had opened the door after she—

She sucked in a sharp breath as the answer hit her.

The doorknob.

Someone must have either seen her enter the motel room last night or leave it this morning. They’d waited until she’d left, or maybe they’d been waiting for her to return, and when she hadn’t, they’d put something on the doorknob. When she’d touched it, she’d absorbed the toxin into her skin.

It was the only explanation she could think of. Because if they’d known where she was, a shot to the head would have been more efficient and far less risky.

So what the hell had they poisoned her with, she wondered frantically. Janaia and Frank had both been killed with hydrogen cyanide, had suffocated in a matter of minutes after contact. Georgia wasn’t having trouble breathing, even though her heart was beating way too fast at the moment.

The fingers of her left hand clamped around the stock of the rifle. She might be able to tough it out through the nausea and vomiting, but the double vision made it impossible to get a clear shot off and there were too many innocents around for her to risk it.

Shit. She’d been determined to get Rossland tonight but now she had no choice but to pack it in for today, get out of here before the hunters found her, then find a safe place to lie low and see about medical treatment, if it wasn’t already too late.

The logical side of her told her she hadn’t absorbed a fatal dose of whatever it was, as the onset had been too slow. Could still mean she was in big trouble though, and she needed to hole up now before she became any more vulnerable.

Covering her weapon, she climbed to her hands and knees and dry heaved as another bout of nausea gripped her. When it faded she barely had the strength to crawl into the driver’s seat.

Her hands were clumsy as she twisted the key in the ignition and began to steer out of the parking lot. She squinted to minimize the double vision, prayed she didn’t hit anything or anyone as she lurched onto the road. Last thing she needed right now was to get in an accident or be pulled over by the cops.

A wave of fatigue made her eyelids droop as she came to a stoplight. This time she bit down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. Her heart hammered as she waited for the light to change and the cars in front of her to move.

Come on, come on
, she urged them impatiently.

Finally the light turned green. She stepped on the gas, risked one last glance in her rearview at the bright lights of the hotel behind her. Dammit. Time was ticking. She still had two men left to kill before the hunters caught up to her.

And they would catch her eventually, it was inevitable.

When they came for her at last, she’d do everything in her power to take them out first.

 

****

 

Seated in the backseat of the SUV, Bautista glanced over at Rycroft as he slid into the front passenger seat and shut the door.

“Rossland’s still at the benefit,” the NSA agent said to him and Briar. “Just got off the phone with his security people. They’re on alert but there’s been no suspicious activity and the hotel security is currently reviewing CCTV footage of the building and parking lot. Nothing’s surfaced so far.”

“So maybe he’s not one of her marks,” Briar said from behind the wheel.

Rycroft grunted. “I’m betting he is. Head to the hotel. They’re waiting for us.”

Briar started the engine and drove away from NSA headquarters, the massive complex that had been his prison for the past five weeks. Nobody talked on the way over, except for Rycroft, who was on his phone constantly. Bautista was glad he didn’t have to talk to anyone; he was tense enough as it was without having to engage with his new “teammates”.

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