Hot Package (A Hostile Operations Team Novella)(#3) (7 page)

“Yeah, I guess we do,” he said. “Last year was pretty spectacular, huh?”

“It definitely was.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Nothing stopping us from doing it again. I’m game if you are.”

Her heart lurched hard. She wanted to. She really did. But it was so much more complicated than that. If she undressed for him, she’d be baring more than her body. She’d be baring her heart. Because she hadn’t stopped caring for him.
 

“It wouldn’t be the same.” What if it was just sex for him now? What if they made love all night long and then he said goodbye as soon as this was over?

If he told her he cared, even just a little bit; if he said it would be the same because the emotion was the same; if he stroked his fingers along her cheek and said it would be beautiful because she was beautiful, she’d melt into his arms right this minute.

He looked at her for a long moment. “Yeah, probably right. Why ruin a great memory?”

***

Olivia’s cell phone rang in the middle of the night, waking her out of a deep sleep. She fumbled for it in the dark, but she missed the call. It went to voicemail and she pressed buttons, bleary-eyed as she tried to figure out who had called. It was probably her mother, but the number had a Virginia area code, so that couldn’t be right. She hit redial and waited, but no one picked up.

There was a ding indicating she had voicemail. The recording was terrible, as if the person on the other end was in an area with bad reception. Or maybe someone had just butt-dialed her. It went on for a minute in which she couldn’t make out anything. She almost erased it, but some little instinct told her not to do so.

She lay there for a few minutes, and then she got up and went to find Billy. If he was asleep, she wouldn’t wake him, but if he was on the computer, she’d ask him to listen. The house was quiet, but there was a glow coming from the living room where he’d pitched his sleeping bag.

Except it wasn’t a computer. She stopped in the door and stared at the tree. He’d plugged it in. The white lights glowed softly while a few small ornaments glinted. She put her hand to her mouth. He’d decorated the tree and lit it while she slept. Because that’s what he did to honor his aunt. Because he had a family who celebrated Christmases and who loved each other deeply.

She’d never had that. She’d had a drunken mother and a succession of men who weren’t her daddy. Darrel had tried, but even he’d given up when continually faced with the relentless wall of her mother’s alcoholism.

“I can hear you breathing, Livvie,” he said, and she started because she hadn’t realized he was awake. He was lying in the bag, facing the tree, and she’d thought he was sleeping.

“I got a call,” she said, only now realizing she’d walked out here in his T-shirt and socks again. Her nipples budded tight as she remembered the way he’d looked at her last night.

“I heard the phone ring.” He turned over in the bag, one arm behind his head. “Was it important?”

“I don’t know. I thought it was a butt-dial. But then I thought I should run it past you before I deleted it.”

He sat up and she walked over, suddenly conscious of bare muscle and smooth skin rippling in the dim light of the tree. Her body bloomed with heat. It flooded her limbs, her belly, her sex. She was hot and aching and all she wanted was for Billy to reach out and touch her.

She handed him the phone, careful not to let her fingers brush his. He listened to the message and then checked out the number it came from.
 

“Don’t recognize it?”

“No.”

He shoved a hand through his hair and yawned. Then he reached for his laptop—of course it wasn’t far away—and powered it up. A little bit of typing and then he looked up at her.
 

“It’s a burner.”

She knew what that meant. A disposable cell phone that people used when they didn’t want to be traced.
 

“It could be Alan.”

“It could be.” He picked up his own phone and made a call. “Hey man, got something for you. Need you to analyze a recording.”

He gave the person on the other end her number and then demanded her voicemail password. She hesitated, but then she gave it to him. If she didn’t, he’d find a way to hack into it. Besides, he was trying to find Alan and stop Titan from selling faulty equipment to the Army. What did her privacy matter compared to that?

“If there’s anything on there, we’ll find it,” he told her once he finished the call.

“I know.” There was a lump in her throat. She’d always known how critical his job was, but now that she was a part of what he was doing, it hit her just how important it was. And how good he was at it. From the minute she’d spilled the story, he’d been working to uncover the truth. He could have sent her away, but he hadn’t. There was no proof that what Alan alleged was the truth, but Billy and HOT acted like it could be.

“You’re thinking awful hard, Liv.”

She tore her gaze from the tree and looked down at him. His brows were drawn low as he studied her.
 

“Everything all right?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

He sighed. “You want to talk about it?”

She wrapped her arms around her body and stood there, shivering. “I just want this to be over. I want Alan to be safe—and I want you to be safe.”
 

Her voice broke at the end and he got to his feet, drawing her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around him automatically and pressed her cheek to his bare chest.

“I am safe, Liv.”

“Not if Titan sells that equipment to the Army.”

His hand was on her hair, stroking her head. It felt so nice, so reassuring. “They won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”

“All I ever wanted was for you to be safe, Billy.” Her voice was hoarse with the effort to hold back tears of frustration and anger—with herself, with him, with this whole damn situation between them.

“I know.”

She tilted her head back to gaze up into his face. He was so handsome he took her breath away. His expression was fierce and controlled at once. And vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected. As if he feared her as much as she feared him.

“When I left…” She pulled in a breath. “I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you out there. I panicked.”

She’d thought it would be easier if she left on her own terms instead of risk her heart again and again.

“I know that too.” He ran his hands over her shoulders and then he pushed her gently away from his body. “Something else I know is that unless you walk away right now, you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Olivia couldn’t breathe. She knew she should walk away, the same as she did last night, but she just couldn’t seem to make her feet move. This was Billy Blake, the man she’d loved—hell, the man she still loved—and he was standing here in front of her with nothing but a pair of boxers on his gorgeous body. The Christmas lights illuminated his skin, delineating every bulge and curve of muscle.

Muscle she wanted to touch and lick and feel moving beneath her hands. She vibrated with need, her body liquefying beneath his hot gaze.

“Liv? You gotta go, babe. I can’t take this much longer.”

She swallowed. “I don’t want to go.”

It was his turn to swallow. “You better be sure about that.”

She stepped into his arms again, ran her hands up the smooth skin of his back. “I’m sure.” Terrified, but sure.

His mouth crushed down on hers then and she whimpered at the feel of his tongue sliding between her lips. It had been so long. Too long.

He kissed her hard and deep, and she met him as ravenously as he met her. Their tongues slid and tangled, their bodies pressing together, their hands gliding over skin and muscle. Billy reached for the hem of the T-shirt and ripped it up and over her head. Then he cupped her ass, groaning when he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties.

He picked her up then and she wrapped her legs around his hips, still kissing him, her hands on either side of his face, holding him right where she wanted him. It felt so good to kiss him again, so damn good.

Her heart was ready to pound right out of her chest. And her body… God, her body was on fire. She could come just from kissing him if he kept this up. He was so damn hot, so perfect.

He finally broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her neck. And then he licked a path to her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth while she arched her back to give him better access. He was so big and strong, and he held her high while he licked her nipples over and over.

She was spread wide, her body open for him, so that it was no surprise when one of his fingers found the wet seam of her sex. When he reached her clitoris, she thought she would die. He flicked it lightly, expertly, while he sucked hard on her nipple and she clutched his shoulders, arching her hips, animal sounds coming from her throat.

“Billy,” she gasped as he did it again. “Please.”

“Please what, Liv? Please make you come? Please end this torture? Please fill you with my cock?”

“All of it. Please, all of it.”

He took her down to the floor then, placing her on top of the sleeping bag and kissing her over and over while she melted beneath him. Her skin was on fire, her body so tight with anticipation that it hurt.

“Dammit, I want this to last,” he said as she ran her hands down his sides and shoved at the waistband of his boxers. But he gave in to her efforts and kicked the shorts off. And then he was naked and she wrapped a hand around his cock while he groaned. “Livvie.”

“I’ve missed you, Billy,” she said, her throat thick with emotion. “So much.”

Somehow she managed to push him onto his back, and then she straddled him and did all the things with her tongue that she’d been dying to do. She licked her way down the solid wall of his pectorals, over the ridges of his abdomen, until she could press his thick cock to her cheek and feel the heat of him.

But then she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the velvety head, down the ridge in the center. He fisted his hands in her hair and she could feel him breathing hard and fast, trying so hard not to let go, not to come straight away.

She wouldn’t mind if he did. It made her feel powerful to know she could still do this to him, that he was—for the moment anyway—submissive and vulnerable to her touch. She sucked him a little harder then and his back bowed.

“God, Olivia. When you do that—”

He didn’t finish what he was saying, and she didn’t care. She loved the feel of him in her mouth, the salty taste of his flesh, the sounds he made. Her body hurt with arousal, but there would be time enough for her later.
 

But he reached for her, urged her up until her knees were on either side of his head. Then he buried his tongue in the soft, wet heat of her—and Olivia came unglued.

Her body exploded in a rush of light and feeling, but Billy didn’t stop. He kept licking her, sucking her, forcing her body toward another crisis. Somewhere, in the intensity of what he did to her, she tried to do the same to him. But her rhythm was knocked off balance now and all she could focus on was the pleasure coursing through her.

When she came again, his name on her lips, he flipped her over and sank down on top of her. He braced himself above her, his expression dark and intense as his gaze raked hers.

“Do I need a condom?”

She knew what he was asking. If she’d been with anyone else without one. If she was still on the pill. She shook her head and then he bent down slowly and took her mouth with his own.

He kissed her softly at first, his cock nudging into her slick heat. Olivia wrapped her legs around him and he sank down into her, stealing her breath away with his heat and size and the sheer pleasure of being impaled by him again.

The softness didn’t last. Neither of them was capable of it, really. Not after so long. Billy hooked an arm around one of her legs and opened her wider, pounding into her harder and harder with each stroke.

The pleasure stretched and spiraled, growing tighter and tighter inside her belly, her sex, until she was ready to scream. He got onto his knees then, lifted her to him. And then he brought her legs tightly together and stroked into her until the friction caught at her G-spot and sent her careening over the edge of one of the best orgasms of her life.

He didn’t give her time to recover. He urged her onto all fours and plunged into her from behind. She didn’t think she could come again, but she was wrong. His fingers set up a rhythm against her clitoris that matched the rhythm of his strokes—

And she shattered. This time, he went with her, his body jerking as he came deep inside her.

They collapsed to the floor together, breathing hard and trying to reconcile what had just happened with everything they’d believed up until this moment. Olivia felt hot tears spill down her cheeks. She turned her head into the sleeping bag and tried to hide but her body began to shake with the intensity of her emotions.

“Olivia,” he said behind her, his mouth falling to her shoulder, his arm tightening around her waist. “Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry.”