Authors: Desiree Holt
Gabe clicked his mic twice, the signal that the bad guys were entering the house, then twice more to indicate entry front and back. Opening his eyes, he could barely make out figures in black moving through the darkness, converging on the hall to the bedrooms.
“Now,” Gabe whispered into his mic.
“On our way. Red Team’s watching the Mercedes.”
“Let’s just be sure to give these guys enough time to take their shot.”
Randy and his men moved stealthily into the house, standing close to Gabe. They could see the short hallway to the bedrooms and the three men at the doorway to Rachel’s room. The open blinds outlined the shapes in the bed.
“All three of us,” one of the men whispered. “That’s the way the boss wants it.
They’ll never be able to sort out which bullet killed who. On my mark—three, two, one.”
The silenced shots sounded like a series of muffled puffs of air. When they stopped, the man who’d spoken before said, “Let’s get the pictures so we’ve got our proof. The boss was pissed we missed before. He’s waiting outside for us to finish. These people could blow everything wide open.”
Someone flipped on the bedroom light and Gabe heard a string of curses.
“What the fuck? What’s going on here?”
“Shit. What is this?”
“The booby prize, gentlemen.” Gabe stepped in and pressed his gun to the leader’s head. “Randy? I think we want to immobilize our guests, turn off the light and see who comes after them.”
With the rest of his team, Randy had the three men flex-cuffed and duct tape pressed across their mouths, sitting them on the floor against one wall. Each one of them had a murderous look of rage in his eyes.
Gabe turned the light off and they stood against the wall to wait.
“Company coming,” someone whispered in Gabe’s ear and he heard Randy click acknowledgement of the message.
They heard the front door open and footsteps heading down the hallway.
“What the hell’s going on?” a man’s voice asked. It was edged with irritation and impatience. “Can’t anyone do a simple job anymore?”
He stepped into the bedroom and Gabe flipped the light switch, only partially surprised at the man revealed.
“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” he chided. “Tell me, Lincoln Harris, do your parents know where you are?”
* * * * *
Rachel sat in a chair at her kitchen table, cradling a hot mug of tea in her hand. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there. Hours, probably. Gabe had tried repeatedly to get her to go to bed but she seemed stuck in one place, unable to move.
The shock of seeing Lincoln Harris walk into her house, in a role she never would have ascribed to him, learning he headed a global terrorist organization, had frozen her into virtual immobility. And that he had been cold-hearted enough to kidnap his own father. She was stunned at both the vileness of the act and the revelation of Lincoln Harris as an international terrorist. How could he have involved his own parents? Put their lives in danger?
She realized with a sick feeling that this was a man with no conscience, no morals, no scruples. Her heart ached for Sam and Loraine and what they would have to face with this stunning revelation.
Her house had been filled with men dressed in black, speaking in low tones. Dan Killian himself had arrived once Gabe called to tell him they had the big fish. Then Killian had called Homeland Security and three more grim-looking men had shown up.
Rachel heard snippets of conversation as Lincoln Harris was transferred to the custody of Homeland Security and DRK agents agreed to transport the others downtown to the federal building.
“We’re square now,” Killian told the HS leader. “Tell your boss he can sign off on the contract.”
“Will do,” the man said.
There was a fair amount of scuffling and muffled protests before the prisoners had finally been taken away, Lincoln Harris still cursing and demanding that he be allowed to call his attorney. Rachel didn’t consider herself a violent person, but at that moment if someone had given her a gun she was convinced she could have shot this man without a moment’s hesitation.
Then it was blessedly quiet but still Rachel couldn’t make herself move. She heard footsteps and when she looked up Gabe was sliding into the chair opposite her. He reached across the table and closed one warm hand over her wrist.
“Drink your tea,” he urged. “In fact, do you have any brandy?”
“Yes but I don’t want liquor.”
“Believe me, your body needs it. Where is it?”
She told him where to find it and he added a good dose to her tea, then put his hands over hers, lifting the mug to her lips. The mixture burned at first going down but then its warmth spread through her body and she felt her blood begin to circulate again.
Gabe stood next to her, urging her, until she finished it all, then took the cup away and set it on the counter.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded. “I just can’t seem to wrap my mind around the whole thing,” she told him. “Lincoln Harris. My god, Sam and Loraine will be devastated. They’ll be just sick over this.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s bad enough that he’s willing to plot against his own country, but to kidnap his parents to further his own ends? I don’t know how they’ll ever get over it. Gabe, they are just the nicest people. This will destroy them.”
“We’ll help them get through this,” he promised her. “You know, he’s the one who recognized me when I showed up at the fundraiser tonight.” He shook his head.
“Apparently he got on the horn and had someone in place who could give him information on me. Someone who’s going to be sorry they ever heard of DRK Inc.
Anyway, the name they gave him wasn’t the one he knew me by.”
“How did Nina get involved?”
“He questioned her, asking what she knew about our relationship.”
“Which was virtually nothing,” Rachel pointed out.
“Except to tell him it had been going on for quite a while.”
Rachel pushed her hair back from her face. “How did he get her to make the phone calls?”
“Simple.” Gabe made a disgusted sound. “He knew—or guessed—I’d be going home with you and was pissed when his team missed me. He got hold of Nina, did his imitation of the frantic boss and told her I was really some kind of criminal. If she could make sure we were still together and where, he’d be able to ‘rescue’ you from me.”
“You know, he’s always resented his parents, felt he operated in their shadow. He wanted to make his own mark.”
“Well, he’s certainly done it now,” Gabe said. “One of the things we learned is that he targeted major donors to the foundation, kidnapped them, insisted on secrecy or the hostage would be killed and collected millions in ransom. He was building his own private army.”
Rachel frowned. “But to do what?”
“Hire himself out to the highest bidder. It was all about the power.”
Rachel pushed back her chair and stood up, stretching. “I feel as if I should call Sam and Loraine, only I don’t know what to say to them.”
Gabe kneaded the nape of her neck with his fingers. “Tomorrow will be plenty of time for that. I think it’s time for us to go to bed.”
“You must be exhausted,” she commented.
He grinned. “Did I say anything about sleep?”
* * * * *
All the tension of the evening, all the emotional stress of the long hours, had every nerve in Rachel’s body wound tighter than wire on a spool. She was naked on the bed, fairly vibrating with the need for relief. Gabe was on his knees between her thighs, her legs spread wide, his big hands anchoring her arms in place. He was licking her breasts, swiping at the aching flesh with his tongue in a random pattern. Rachel only wanted him to take her nipples in his mouth and suck them, hard, until they felt like bursting.
But he was teasing her, his tongue darting here, there, everywhere.
Frustrated, she arched up to him, silently begging him to take the throbbing, hardened buds into the hot wetness of his mouth. The hard thickness of his cock bobbed against the soft flesh of her tummy, the hot shaft imprinting itself on her skin.
She wanted to reach for it, take it in her hands but Gabe held her in place as he relentlessly attacked every sensitive area of her body.
When he finally pulled one nipple into his mouth she moaned in pleasure, rocking her body from side-to-side with the limited motion he allowed her. Gently he bit the hardened tip, the grazing sensation of his teeth firing every tiny nerve in the ripened bud. As if a line ran directly from her nipples to her cunt, her inner walls fluttered in response to the attention to her breasts.
Rachel bent her knees, her feet pressed flat to the mattress and tried to rub her body against Gabe’s but he allowed her minimal movement.
“We have plenty of time, sweetheart,” he murmured against the swell of one breast.
“This is a feast. I want to take my time digesting it.”
But I want you right now. Right now!
“Couldn’t we get to the slower part later?” she asked, breathless.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin as he moved his mouth lower, tickling her bellybutton with the tip of his tongue before reaching the soft curls covering her mound. His hands still held her arms firmly in place, his legs spreading hers so she was open to his onslaught. When his tongue flicked through the curls to find the hot nub of her clit a high keening sound burst from her mouth.
Gabe’s touch was so light. Too light. The whisper of his tongue over her skin was like the touch of a feather, teasing, promising, then darting away. When he finally dipped his tongue into the hot well of her cunt she screamed with pleasure, hitching her hips, trying to draw him deeper inside her.
But again he darted and retreated, tasted and backed off. Her torment was his pleasure. Her need fed his desire.
Suddenly he moved up her body again, straddling her, his hugely swollen cock bobbing at her. He moved one hand from her arm to wrap his fingers around his shaft and rubbed it lightly across her lips.
“Taste me,” he told her, his voice husky. “Wrap your mouth around me.”
She opened her mouth wide, let him slide over her lips, then closed around him and swirled her tongue against the underside of his cock. His breath hissed through his teeth and he rocked his hips back and forth, dragging himself over the edge of her teeth, feeling the pull of her lips against his skin.
Then he was moving again, shifting his body, turning her on her side, sliding his cock into her mouth again while his fingers opened her pussy wide and his tongue plundered her. It felt as if a hot wire had invaded her, singeing her nerves and causing her inner muscles to pulse and throb.
God, she wanted to come so badly but he was keeping her at the edge, just hanging there, release tempting her like a forbidden treat. When he pressed one finger against her anus, massaging the tight, puckered skin, the level of pleasure was almost too much for her to bear without the possibility of release.
“Please,” she gasped, pulling her mouth back from his cock, her fingers massaging his balls. “Oh, Gabe, I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Neither can I,” he growled. “I guess I’ll have to save the rest for later.”
He moved again, she heard the sound of the condom being rolled on, then he was holding her legs wide as he entered her with one, swift stroke. The moment he filled her he stopped, the heat of passion flaring in his eyes, his gaze holding hers.
“I want you, Rachel,” he growled. “Tonight, tomorrow, forever. My job will change but there’s always a threat. But know that I will protect you with my life.”
“I love you,” she told him. “Dancing with danger keeps me on my toes.”
“Then get ready for the dance of your life,” he told her, setting up a fierce rhythm.
It took only seconds before he carried them both over the edge into a whirlwind of pleasure, the pulsing of their joined bodies a silent promise for the future.
About the Author
I always wonder what readers really want to know when I write one of these things. Getting to this point in my career has been an interesting journey. I’ve managed rock and roll bands and organized concerts. Been the only female on the sports staff of a university newspaper. Immersed myself in Nashville peddling a country singer. Lived in five different states. Married two very interesting but totally different men.
I think I must have lived in Texas in another life, because the minute I set foot on Texas soil I knew I was home. Living in Texas Hill Country gives me inspiration for more stories than I’ll probably ever be able to tell, what with all the sexy cowboys who surround me and the gorgeous scenery that provides a great setting.
Each day is a new adventure for me, as my characters come to life on the pages of my current work in progress. I’m absolutely compulsive about it when I’m writing and thank all the gods and goddesses that I have such a terrific husband who encourages my writing and puts up with my obsession. As a multi-published author, I love to hear from my readers. Their input keeps my mind fresh and always hunting for new ideas.
Desiree welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her
author bio page at
www.ellorascave.com.
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