HAYDEN (Dragon Security Book 5) (12 page)

Sam

I stood under the spray of the water, my chest feeling as though a cinderblock was sitting on it. I closed my eyes and pictured a sandy beach somewhere, imagining myself sitting there in a bikini, a book in my hands and the sun warming my skin. It was a calming exercise that’d I’d used since I was in high school. It normally worked. But today, I found myself imagining Hayden in swim trunks, his bare chest—and the thin hair sprinkling over his pecs—shining gold in the sunlight.

That image didn’t help lower my blood pressure, especially when the man himself, in all his naked glory, climbed into the shower behind me.

He reached around me and picked up the sliver of soap from the little tray below the showerhead. He made a lather between his hands and rubbed it into my shoulders, the warm smell of sandalwood surrounding me. I leaned back into him, hoping he would think my odd breathing was because of his touch.

“Do we really have to go back?” he asked against my ear.

“Unfortunately.”

He groaned. “One more day.”

I closed my eyes again, the feel of his chest against my back so warm and reassuring. The heaviness in my chest wasn’t going away. And there was that feeling that I was drowning. I couldn’t understand why it was happening again so soon after the last time. The doctor said something about adjusting my medications when I called. And rest. I wasn’t getting enough rest.

I didn’t know how that was possible. We’d spent the entire past four days in bed. Even then, I was exhausted. I was sleeping twelve, fourteen hours and still felt as though I could sleep another twelve. Hayden must have thought I was the laziest woman in the world.

He ran his hands over my back, the soap lubricating the way. He worked his way around my waist and up to my breasts, his hands lifting them and massaging them, my nipples standing up on end at the feel of him. I could feel his cock rising and pressing against the small of my back. My lower belly ached for his touch even as exhaustion whispered that I could never keep up.

He turned me around and pressed me up against the shower wall. We kissed for a long moment, but I couldn’t catch my breath. I had to turn away, but he wasn’t discouraged. He kissed my throat, his lips sliding slowly down the length of me, pausing to take proper care of my nipples before he dropped to his knees. My head began to spin as I looked at him down there, this big, powerful man on his knees to please me. It was overwhelming, just that thought.

My knees went weak the moment he touched me, his tongue doing incredible things to my clit. He grabbed my ass, holding me up with sheer determination. I couldn’t help the sounds that slipped from between my lips. It didn’t take long until I was riding that roller coaster, the one he always took me on. And when it was done, he picked me up and carried me back to the bed, drying me with his towel, while he stood dripping wet beside the bed. He wrapped me in blankets and I was so warm and cozy that I drifted off to sleep, not even aware I’d done it until I woke sometime later and found him fully dressed, stretched out on the bed beside me, reading something on his iPad.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it.” He leaned close and kissed my cheek. “You must have been tired.”

I nodded as I turned into him. “You must be so bored.”

“No. I went for a walk. Then I just lay here, watching you.”

I blushed. “Very bored, then.”

He shook his head, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “I could watch you all day and all night.”

“You’re too good to me.”

He studied my face for a long minute. “You’re my girl, Sam. There’s nothing I could want more than to be alone with you. We don’t have to do anything at all. Just be together.”

I reached up and kissed him roughly, gratitude burning in my chest.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the Luke/Dante thing—well, when I wasn’t thinking about Hayden, about my health situation, and about the not so distant future—and how they seemed wrapped up in this investigation that apparently got Peter killed. I wrestled with it in my mind when I was supposed to be working on other things. Or lying in a hospital bed, recovering from yet another thoracentesis, as I was now.

Megan was sitting in a chair beside me, reading from a magazine. She thought I was asleep, but I was really just pretending, trying to get all these things straight in my head. I wanted to solve this puzzle for her—to put the pieces together as quickly as possible. I wanted her to have answers, to know the real reason why the man she loved left her at such a dramatic moment in their lives.

I remember watching Megan and Luke when we were young and they’d first started dating in high school. I was a latecomer to their world. Luke had been there since they were all small children, this fixture in their home just like Mrs. Murphy, his mother and the Bradford’s housekeeper. I wasn’t there to see their relationship bud and bloom, but I was there when they fell in love. It was sweet, really, the long looks across the classroom, the shy discussions in the hallway about homework and how lame the dance was. It might have been just any other teen romance, but even I knew that it wasn’t. There was always more between Megan and Luke.

I wanted to prove to her that he didn’t leave because he wanted to. Anyone with eyes could see how in love with her he was.

But it was more than that. Luke was my friend. He was there for me in dark moments when I couldn’t turn to anyone, not even Megan. He always seemed to know when those moments were, and he always made himself available. Always.

Why was Luke’s name in Emily Greene’s files? Why did she appear to connect him with a group of CIA agents who were working with the terrorist cell in France? Did that have something to do with his sudden disappearance?

And Dante… Why did it look like he was the one who activated the virus the day we were all looking at Emily’s files? And why did the virus activate just as a page was loading that would tell me what Luke’s connection was to the terrorist cell?

Luke disappeared not long after Peter told him about the case he was investigating. Peter had learned that someone was selling his company’s software without a proper license. It began as a case of an employee attempting to profit off of something that was not his to profit from. But then it grew into something bigger and much more complicated. Before his death, Peter learned that the software was being used to transfer information covertly between terror cell members. But to all appearances, he learned that after Luke disappeared. Could the two still be connected? Was it possible that Peter had somehow stumbled onto an old case of Luke’s from when he was an active CIA agent? If so, could that be the real reason why Luke disappeared?

If that was true, then how did Luke fit into Peter’s death? And where did Dante come in to all of this? Was he CIA, too?

There was something odd about the conversation Megan and I had with Dante’s former coworkers. Their stories were too similar, too perfectly vague. And the tattoo…that bothered me. I wasn’t sure, at first, if it meant anything at all. But the more I thought about it, it was odd that Dante had tattoos right where Luke had a tattoo of a line from Inferno. But no others. He didn’t have his badge number tattooed anywhere on his body as far as I knew. But the cop had seemed so confident, so assured, when he said that was something a lot of cops did. There was always an exception, of course. But it bothered me that someone who would have such extensive tattooing done on his chest wouldn’t be proud enough, or inspired enough, or even practical enough, to have his badge number tattooed somewhere on his body. And what were the chances that both Luke and Dante would have someone they cared for in the same nursing facility here in Houston?

It was all a bunch of coincidences and speculation, but there might be something concrete there. I needed to find out.

After the doctors came, my medications were altered, and I was ordered to take it easy—to which Megan insisted that I start working only half days—I slipped away.

“I’m going home,” I told Megan. “To lie down and rest.”

“I have Hayden on assignment, so maybe it’ll keep him busy for a day or two.”

She gave me a knowing look that made me blush. And then she laughed, kissing my cheek before she left me to head back to the office herself.

I did go home, but not to rest. I would have plenty of time to lie around in bed in the future. I wasn’t going to waste my time now when there was so much that needed to be done.

I went online—it’s amazing how much you can find on the internet if you just know what to look for—and studied photographs and webpages, documents and reports, everything I could find that might support my theories. And it was there. All of it. As I said, you just had to know what you were looking for.

Late in the afternoon, I took an Uber to the Honeysuckle Nursing Home.

“Mrs. Murphy,” I said, taping on a patient room door, “it’s Sam. Sam Wagner? I was a friend of Megan Bradford when you worked for her family.”

She was sitting in a chair by the window, her hair—still jet black, like her son’s—pulled back from her surprisingly youthful face. She smiled at me, but the confusion in her eyes made it pretty clear she had no idea who I was or whom I was talking about.

“Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute? I’d like to ask you about your son.”

The confusion melted away when I said that. She smiled brightly.

“Luke,” she said. “My darling boy.”

“Yes, ma’am. I was wondering, when was the last time you saw him?”

Hayden

The jewelry store was surprisingly busy for the middle of a Wednesday afternoon in early January. I tried to blend in to the crowd, pretending I was there to look at the overpriced rings on display in glass cases. I knew without looking right where all the security cameras were. So did the employee who’d been stealing an average of twenty thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise every month.

I watched her utilize a simple sleight of hand maneuver as she pulled a case out for a customer. A ring was gone just like that. Did these people really think they could get away with this stuff? Did she really think her boss didn’t notice the disappearing inventory?

I walked the perimeter of the store, making sure the hidden camera attached to my glasses caught every move the thief made. I thought I was being discreet, but I turned and a petite saleslady in her proper black pencil skirt had me in her sights.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked with an appreciative smile.

I shook my head. “No. Just looking.”

“For your mother? Or your wife?” She looked quickly at my left hand, searching for a wedding band. “Or girlfriend?”

There was a little wistfulness in her voice. Hope. I quickly dashed it.

“Girlfriend.”

“Ah,” she said, her eyes filling with the darkness of disappointment. “Well, then, is this a birthday gift? A ‘just because’ gift? Or something more serious?”

“Serious?”

She smiled her most charming smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“An engagement ring, maybe?”

Laughter sounded in my ear. Dominic was out front in a white panel van, watching and listening as we gathered evidence for our client. I crossed my arms over my chest as I found myself thinking things I never thought I would consider. Commitment was a difficult thing for me. After my parents died, and then my grandfather, and my grandmother’s obvious struggle just looking at me as I grew older and began to look like my father, I couldn’t imagine committing to someone who could disappear one day or turn on me and change her mind about our relationship. I’d suffered enough loss and disappointment to put myself out there.

But that was before Sam.

The time we spent in Colorado just underscored to me how much I wanted to be with her. It’d only been a few weeks, but I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

I nodded, a slow smile slipping out. “I’d like to see a few engagement rings.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dominic hissed in my ear. “A little soon, don’t you think?”

I ignored him, reaching up to turn off the earpiece. The saleslady pulled out a couple trays of rings, asking how much I wanted to spend. I had no idea. I hadn’t thought this out. I didn’t really know what I was doing. But the second I saw the right ring, I just knew, just like I knew the first time I laid eyes on Sam.

The office seemed wrong without Sam there. I walked in, my eyes going right to her desk. I was going to her house after submitting my report on the jewelry store thefts, but it still seemed wrong that she wasn’t there.

“Awesome job,” Megan said when I stuck my head into her office.

“Don’t sound surprised.”

“I’m not. I’d be surprised if you hadn’t done such a good job. But I have to stroke your ego, don’t I?”

“Of course.”

She laughed, gesturing for me to come inside. I did, stepping in and closing the door behind me.

“I have another case, a tech company that needs someone to review their security for them. You up for that?”

“Sure.”

I walked around the chairs set in front of Megan’s desk, walking to the far wall where she had a couple of file cabinets that were covered in photographs, mostly personal photos. It was a small office, humble. I’d always liked that about Megan. But it was Sam’s face that drew me to this corner of the room.

I picked up one framed photo that was taken when Megan and Sam were both in the Marines. They were in their uniforms and had smiles on their bright, shining faces.

“Can I ask you something?”

Megan didn’t answer.

“I don’t want to put you in the middle of anything. I just…I feel like I should know more about her health situation, but I don’t want to put her on the spot.”

“Her health situation?”

I glanced at Megan. Her face was expressionless and that told me more than any emotion that might have been—should have been—in her eyes.

“I know she has lupus. And while we were in Colorado, she was clearly having some sort of episode. She was tired all the time and breathing heavy. I was just wondering if there was something I could do to make her more comfortable when those things happen.”

Megan sat heavily in her chair.

“Sam’s very private about her health. She’s never really talked to me about it, either.”

“When was she diagnosed?”

Megan shrugged. “I don’t know. It was while I was overseas in Afghanistan. And then I was injured, so I didn’t really find out about it until a while later.”

My phone rang. The calls were growing more and more infrequent, but they were still coming. I ignored it. Again.

I put the picture down and turned toward her. Luke called me the night he learned that Megan had been caught up in a fight between villagers to tell me about the wounds that were threatening her life. I was back in the states at the time, waiting for orders after my second deployment. He was on assignment with the CIA, but he wanted me to go see her and assure her that he was aware of what was happening and that he’d be with her as soon as possible. I never got a chance to speak to her, but I remembered how fragile she’d looked in that hospital bed in Washington, D.C.

“If you know something that could help…”

Megan stared at the top of her desk. “This is something you should talk to Sam about, Hayden.”

I nodded as I walked to her desk. “I want you to know that this isn’t just another fling for me. I love her.”

When she looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. “Hayden, I…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m glad you and she finally got over whatever it was you were doing and admitted that you really like each other. I think you’re really good for her. She smiles all the time now.” She smiled herself. “She’s always been convinced she’d never find anyone who would want her for
her
. I’m glad she finally did.”

I heard her words. But I also saw something in her eyes that made my blood run cold. There was something, doubt maybe, in her eyes. And sadness. It made me wonder what was going on with her, what was happening between her and Sam that would make her look that way.

“Everyone deserves a little happiness in their lives.”

Megan nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. And you make her happy. That makes me happy.”

Yet, there was still that little bit of something there. It bothered me.

But it was Megan’s problem. Not mine.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hayden?”

She said my name softly, almost as if she was hoping I wouldn’t hear it. But I did. I stopped, my hand resting on the doorknob.

“Take care of her. Keep her close.”

I glanced back at her, an icicle sliding through my heart.

“Is there something going on here? Something more I need to know?”

She shook her head, already turning back to her work.

“She’s my friend. I just want to know she’s in good hands with you.”

“She is.”

Sam was in front of her bank of computer screens when I walked into her condo a short time later, letting myself in through the garage like she’d instructed me to do. I brought with me bags of food, planning a big, romantic, candlelight dinner. However, the moment I saw the frown of concentration on her face, I suspected it wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“What are you doing?”

She glanced at me, her whole face lighting up when she saw me. Everyone should have that in their lives—hat one person who lights up at the sight of them. It warmed my heart, a heart that until a few weeks ago was living in a case of ice. Not just ice—super cold dry ice. But now… She had worked her way right through it all and changed me. I was a different man when she looked at me like that.

“I think I might have figured out how to fix what the virus did to Emily’s files. I might have figured out what corrupted Peter’s hard drive, too. I think, by this time tomorrow, I’ll have it all fixed and readable.”

“Really?”

She nodded, jumping out of her chair to move into my arms. “We should celebrate.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, leaning down to kiss her. She smiled, pulling back just before my lips could touch hers. “Whatever that is smells good. You should take it in the kitchen and unpack it. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.”

She winked at me as she walked out of the room, a soft smile on her lips. I watched her—man, I loved watching her go!—just barely resisting the urge to follow her.

I touched the ring in my pocket, suddenly nervous at the idea of presenting it to her. What if she thought it was too soon? What if she didn’t want to commit to me? What did I have to offer her, anyway? I had money, but I don’t think she actually knew that. I didn’t have family—except my grandmother—I didn’t have a big house or a fancy car. I didn’t have any idea if I’d ever want a family. All I knew was that I wanted her. Was that enough? Would she think it was enough?

I unpacked the food slowly—her favorite Italian treats—slicing lasagna and laying it on a plate with a fresh salad and crusty garlic bread. There was a bottle of wine, a dark red that was rich and full of smoky, woody flavors, and tiramisu that I popped into the fridge for later. I heard her footsteps behind me as I struggled with the corkscrew. She had one of those old-fashioned ones that had to be manually screwed in and popped. I preferred my electric one. I turned, a question on my lips.

“Do you think—?”

And then I saw her. She stood there, this petite, curvy girl with her hair piled on top of her head to expose her long, elegant neck, her eyes bright in the dim light. She wore the tiniest, sheerest babydoll top I’d ever seen. Her thick nipples pressed against the material, exposed as clear as day. It had a split down the center and her navel peeked out at me, as though it were an eye winking. And these teeny panties…

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t know what I could say. I simply went to her and lifted her up, sitting her on the edge of the counter as I captured her lips. She moaned, her hands slipping around my head, her fingers burying themselves in my hair. I knew that baby doll must have cost her an awfully pretty penny, but I couldn’t help myself. I ripped it as I tried to pull it free of her flesh, needing to touch those thick nipples and feel the familiar weight of her breasts in my hands.

It wasn’t just the sight of her that drove me insane. It was the whole package. I made fun of Dominic when he talked like this about Amy, but it was the truth. Sam was beautiful, but she was also intelligent, kind and caring, the only girl in the world who’d ever made me feel like I could be a better man. The only girl who lifted my spirits with just a look and made me feel like the world wasn’t just one nightmare after another.

She looked at the world with innocence and hope. I hadn’t been able to do that in years, but with her, I could.

And it didn’t hurt that her body was so incredibly erotic.

With just a few reckless tugs, I was able to strip her of her clothing—if you could call those things clothes—and touch her. I touched everything with my hands, my fingertips, and my tongue. I nibbled and twirled, sucked and fingered, bringing the most delicious sighs from her lips. I was so hard—so fucking hard!—that it was almost painful. But I delayed my own gratification in order to hear, to see, hers.

“I want to see you cum,” I whispered against her mouth.

“Hayden…”

She protested, but she didn’t push me away. And she didn’t draw me to her when I pulled back to watch her face.

I slid my fingers inside of her and pressed them in deep to touch those places I knew would drive her wild. Then I slowly pulled them out and ran the tips of my fingers over her clit. She moaned softly, her knees coming together when I touched her swollen clit, forcing my fingers harder against her. And then she would open them again when I shifted down along her wet opening, welcoming me inside of her. Then they would close again.

She knew what she wanted. She knew what felt good.

I watched her, fascinated with the pleasure dancing in her eyes. But I saw other things, too: the slight blue hue around her lips; the quick puff of her breathing; the hand she pressed against her chest.

I tried not to think about her illness. It frightened me, the idea that something could change who she was and how she was with me. I was selfish. I wanted her to always be my girl just as she was right now. I wanted to always see the need in her eyes whenever she looked at me, even when we were standing across the room from each other.