Escape the Night (6 page)

One of his hands snaked around to her front and spread lather in circles over her breasts, down her stomach, into her curls and finally between the lips of her pussy. And all the time his clever fingers moved in and out of her rectum with a steady stroke. This time she didn't feel the climax building. It hit her with no warning, shaking her like a leaf in a fall breeze, her legs trembling, every muscle in her body clenching. Gus finger-fucked her ass and her cunt with coordinated movements, drawing out her pleasure, carrying her higher and higher until she was sure there was no place else to go.

While she was still shaking and spasming Gus withdrew both hands and spun her around.

"Noooo," she wailed, hands flailing at him.

"It's all right." His voiced was thick and husky. "Hold on."

Her eyes were closed but she heard the tearing of foil, the snap of latex and then Gus was lifting her and impaling her on his rock-hard cock.

"Wrap your legs around me," he urged.

She locked her ankles at the small of his back and her arms around his neck. His mouth took hers while his tongue thrust inside. And then he began to move, rocking his hips, tongue moving in and out of her mouth in the same rhythm his shaft moved in and out of her body. The orgasm that hadn't quite finished devouring her roared back to life stronger than ever. Gus' body stiffened, his hands tightened on her and he smashed his mouth against hers again as his own release consumed him. She was tossed into a maelstrom, spinning out of control. Every part of her body quaking and 43

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straining, Gus pounding into her again and again. She could do nothing but hang on for the ride.

Only the water turning cool shocked her into an awareness of where she was and what was happening. There wasn't a muscle in her body that didn't feel as if it had been stretched out and softened like tempered steel. She was sure if she tried to stand on her own she fall on her face.

Gus buried his face in her shoulder for a long time. At last he used what was left of the hot water to shampoo her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp as they'd done with her body. When they were both rinsed off and goose bumps were finally popping out on her skin, Gus turned the water off, lifted her out of the shower and wrapped her in a big bath towel. He tried himself off quickly before turning his attention to her. His hands were gentle as he dried her, blotting the water from her hair and her skin. He even pulled a hair dryer and a brush out of the vanity cupboard and took the time to blow-dry her hair, all the time murmuring soothing words to her. When he carried her into the bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, she was sure a bowl of gelatin had more substance than she did.

Gus climbed in behind her and pulled her tight against him, his arm around her waist and his hand palming her breast. Anya sighed contentedly, almost--but not quite--feeling safe and secure. Gus' gun on the night on the nightstand, however, reminded her that the nightmare was far from over.

* * * * *

Because of Jimmy's phone call, Gus slept very lightly. He could reach his gun with little effort and his cell phone lay on the nightstand next to it. At first he thought it was the phone that woke him and he came instantly alert. But when he reached over Anya to pick it up, the screen was dark and the phone was neither vibrating nor ringing at the low volume he'd set it to.

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Being careful not to disturb Anya, he slid out of bed and yanked on his jeans and tshirt. He tiptoed over to the bedroom door and turned the knob silently, easing the door open just a crack. He stood in the darkness listening carefully, wondering what exactly had awakened him. Why the hell were all the lights out? And where the hell was John?

He moved silently into the hallway, closing the door carefully so the snick of the lock wouldn't carry. Hugging the wall he made his way to the living room, his gun firm in his grip. The light from the television screen flickered in the darkness as images danced across it. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he looked around to see if John had fallen asleep on the couch, or in the big recliner chair. If he had, Gus planned to chew his ass out good. The night sentry wasn't supposed to sleep on the job. But John was nowhere to be seen.

Still moving like a stealthy cat, Gus checked the dining room, the kitchen, the little room they used for a study where the electronics were set up. Nothing. No John. No sound. The itch that Gus always got on the back of his neck when something was wrong was acting up now as if he'd fallen into a bed of fire ants. The monitor in the study was still working, the screen divided into quadrants, the pages constantly changing as the views from the cameras were fed into it. Gus scanned them quickly, looking for some sign of activity but again there was nothing to see. The yards front and back looked clear. Nothing was moving. Damn! Something woke him up and he wasn't giving up until he figured out what. And where John had disappeared to.

Hugging the wall again, he carefully slid open the door leading to the back porch. As he did so, something fell inside the house and landed at his feet. He reached down, thinking it was a bundle of something, only to find John Randolph's body draped over his feet.

Shit!

He grabbed him by his shirt collar, yanked him inside the house and pushed the door to close it. But before he could secure it someone flew at him, knocking him 45

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backward over John's body. Instinctively he tightened his grip on his gun and lashed out at whoever this was, grunting in satisfaction when he connected with the man's head on the first blow. Gus slammed the barrel of his gun against the man's temple one more time for good measure, then pushed him off his legs and stumbled to his feet. He double checked that the blinds on the kitchen window and the back door were tightly shut, then fished around in a kitchen drawer for the flashlight he knew was kept there. He shone its light first on the intruder, checked to make sure the man was still unconscious, then skimmed over his face. A stranger. No one Gus was familiar with or had even seen a mug shot of.

Then he turned his attention to John. He felt for a pulse and found none, but the blood on his face and neck from the bullet hole in his temple told the story. How the hell had the stranger gotten onto the property without alerting John? Or had he tripped a silent alarm and sandbagged John when the agent came out to check? The only good thing to come out of this was at least he knew John wasn't working with or for Virgil Branson.

Digging in John's pockets he dug out two pairs of flex cuffs and bound the intruder's hands and feet. He rifled his pockets looking for any kind of identification, but of course there was nothing. Finally he went back into the study, found the roll of duct tape in the drawer there, went back to the kitchen and taped the stranger's mouth shut.

Then he made his way back to the bedroom. It was time to wake Anya and get the hell out of there.

* * * * *

"What do you mean, how did he bypass security?" Gus ground his teeth in frustration. "How the hell should I know? I wasn't the one on watch."

He was nearly shouting into the phone at Jimmy. Taking a deep breath, he dialed back his anger and listened to his friend.

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"I know, I know." Jimmy was trying to calm him, but Gus could hear the tension in his friend's voice that matched his own. "You know what this has to mean, don't you?"

"That Dean's involved? I'm not buying it. Not yet."

"Be sensible. Someone had to know where to send that guy after you."

Gus gripped the cell even harder, forcing some semblance of calm. He glanced over to Anya, curled up on the bed in the cheap-ass motel room, hugging her knees, eyes wide, face as pale as the sheets on the bed. For her sake he had to keep it together. She was already frightened enough. He'd promised to keep her safe and damn it, that's what he was going to do.

"You'd better send a cleanup crew to the house," he said now.

"Already taken care of," Jimmy told him. "I'm not saying a word about it to anyone here, either. Not until we know for sure what's going on."

"Branson obviously has a much larger organization than we figured, and has a lot of people in his pocket."

Jimmy snorted. "No shit. There's a lot of money there. Gus. Money changes people. Makes them greedy. Makes them forget what they should and shouldn't be doing."

"You got that right."

"Where are you calling from?" Jimmy asked. "I almost didn't answer the phone because I didn't recognize the number?"

"Disposable phone," Gus told him. "And no offense, but I don't think right now I want to tell anyone where we are. Not even you. Safer that way for you as well as for us."

"Where do you plan to go? You can't just wander from place to place. I still think you should let me stash Anya someplace so you can be free to do what you need to."

"I'll figure it out. Someplace where we're secure. Where I can work my contacts and figure out what the fuck is going on. But like I said, she stays with me."

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"Your funeral." Jimmy paused. "Well, the escape is all over the news. The director is climbing all over Barton about it. If he's Branson's contact, I hope he's getting enough money to retire to some tropical island."

Gus disconnected the call, put the phone on the bedside table and stretched out beside Anya. When he touched her skin it was ice cold. Pulling her into his arms, he rubbed her back and arms, trying to infuse warmth into her.

"You did good, darlin'," he praised her. And indeed she had. When he woke her and explained the situation, she hadn't argued or fallen apart, despite the fact that he could see how freaked she was. He'd figured they had a few minutes yet. When no one came in after the guy he cold cocked he'd had to assume no one else was out there. But they would be when their man failed to report in. They'd dressed and thrown their few belongings into a duffel bag Gus found in the closet. Before climbing into the car Gus had checked everywhere, especially underneath, either for an explosive device or a GPS tracker, but the car, thankfully, was clean. He'd had to open the garage door manually since the power was still cut and he didn't want to alert anyone too soon by restoring it. Anya had huddled into herself on the seat, a silent wraith while he drove away from the safe house and onto the Interstate. He'd been very careful to watch for a tail. One stop to buy disposable cells at an all-night store before putting heading to Austin, a city where they could get lost until he could figure out what to do.

"I'm scared, Gus." Her voice was small, muffled against his shoulder.

"I know, I know. And with good reason. But we're going to get out of this."

"What happened?"

It was the first question she'd asked him since he'd woken her. The fact that she'd just gone along with him, following his directions, was a good indication of the level of trust she placed in him. He didn't plan to make light of it. But she did deserve some answers. He shifted a little on the bed and rolled her so she was on top of him, his arms tight around her.

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"We've had a little glitch," he began.

"I'd say it's more than little if we had to sneak out in the middle of the night," she pointed out.

"Yeah, more than a little." He did his best to keep his voice level. No sense in panicking Anya more than she already was. "Jimmy called before we went to bed to tell me he believes our FBI office has been compromised."

"Compromised?" She raised her head to look into his eyes. "Exactly what does that mean?"

No sense sugarcoating it. "It means someone in our office is in bed with Virgil Branson and can feed him your location. But that's not all."

"Is that why we had to leave the way we did? And what about the other agent?"

He could feel the erratic beat of her heart against his chest and tightened his arms even more.

"I don't know what woke me up tonight but I'm glad something did. Anya, John's dead, and someone tried to get into the house. I suspect they had orders to kill both of us."

"Kill?"

Now she was shaking so badly he was afraid she'd break apart. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks, hoping to take the edge off.

"I got him while he was still off balance, left him tied up and called Jimmy to pick him up. But I have to be honest. We're pretty much on our own here. At least until Virgil's caught."

"B-But even then we won't be safe," she protested. "Not unless we find out who's doing his dirty work."

"Which we will," he assured her. "I'm not totally without resources."

Anya curled up into a ball on top of him. "But where can we go?"

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He kissed her gently. "Don't worry. I have a place in mind. Meanwhile we're safe enough where we are for a little while. We should get some sleep. We're going to need it." He lifted her from his body. "Come on. Let's get our clothes off and crawl under the covers."

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Chapter Five

Anya came awake slowly still nestled against Gus' big body, eyes focusing on her surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. At first she thought she was back at the safe house. Then everything came crashing back down on her. No safe house. They were in a strange motel apparently running from everyone.

She wiggled herself tighter against Gus and felt the hard thickness of his erection prodding her ass. His arm banded across her tummy tightened.

"Keep doing that and I won't want to get out of bed." His voice was warm and still deep from recent slumber.

"Maybe that's what I want." She was only half teasing.

"We've got to get moving," he reminded her.

"I know. But I need you, Gus. I need your strength."

She knew having sex--making love--didn't need to be on their agenda at this particular moment, but she desperately needed that connection. She sighed when his hand cupped her breast, thumb lazily brushing back and forth against her nipple. Purring with satisfaction she pressed herself more tightly against him. His breath hissed in her ear and his cock flexed against the crevice of her buttocks.