LineofDuty (6 page)

But being back in his arms felt so good.

The ferocity of the kiss swept her away. He demanded entry
to her mouth, sucking her lips and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She
slid her arms up over his shoulders and dug her nails in, not wanting to let
this go. The way they used to blaze with passion for each other.

His hold on her tightened. In a swift move, Jake swept her
off her feet, straightening without ever letting his mouth leave hers.

Would it be so bad to have one more time with him? Sure, it
might devastate her and leave her even more broken, but neither could she fight
against the sheer onslaught of emotions battering her for the first time in
months.

Fuck it.

She’d deal with the consequences later.

He placed her on the kitchen counter, forcing her knees
apart and her skirt up around her thighs. She had her hands up his shirt, roving
his skin, reveling in the feel of his hard muscular chest, the wiry hairs
tickling her palms. There were a few places where his skin puckered. Wounds
he’d incurred while in the line of duty. She hated them but knew they were part
of who he was. As much as she wished he’d chosen a safer profession, he was
danger and strength, courage and honor and so much more.

This moment, it was like the beginning all over again. When
they’d literally torn clothes off each other, too impatient to wait a second
longer than necessary.

Her nylons gave way with a slight
rip, rip, ripping
sound. She gasped against his mouth, arousal drenching her panties. She’d
almost forgotten what it felt like, the cold slide of satin across her sex, the
anticipation of what came next.

Why couldn’t it be like this again?

She opened her eyes and her breath froze in her chest.

Jake stared at her with such raw lust. She’d once quaked
under that desire, scared of what he might do to her, but she’d learned Jake
would never hurt her. At least not physically. This last year was something
else. A dark chapter of their lives. It was something that for this moment she
wanted to forget had happened.

Nicole was no longer an uncertain twenty-something. Oh, in
those early days she’d pretended she had confidence for miles, but she hadn’t
earned it until Jake. Every man before him had fumbled around, learning the
ropes as much as she was. Jake had matched her phoniness with reality and
taught her a few things along the way. He’d nurtured her curiosity, encouraged
sexual exploration.

Jake yanked her ruined nylons and panties down her legs,
jerking the delicate fabric until the whole mess ripped further.

Laughter bubbled up in her chest and she kicked one foot out
of the snare. What were a pair of pantyhose? Right now she just wanted him.
That was all that mattered.

She grasped the front of his jeans and slipped the buckle
free. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of her
knees and watched. His breath fanned across her cheek as she worked the tab and
zipper open.

Would he be hard?

Was this really happening?

This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were splitting up, not
getting back together. But even the idea that they weren’t supposed to be doing
this made her want it—him—more.

Jake slid his hand between her thighs and found her clit. He
thrummed the nub with his fingers and she felt the touch straight down to her
toes.

She bit her lip and forced her hands to move, pushing his
jeans and underwear down, freeing his penis and balls. Her hold faltered as his
fingers delved into her pussy.

Heat crawled up her neck. Yes, she was wet for him. But she
wasn’t the only one turned-on. He was hard and ready. She stroked him, adding
the flick of her wrist he liked at the end. His hips flexed in time with her
strokes and his fingers faltered in their rhythm. She could still make him
crazy, that touch she hadn’t lost.

Jake growled and pushed her back on the counter until she
lay spread out on the granite. The marble was cold under her bottom but her
skin was hot. He flipped her skirt up and grabbed her knee, folding it up
against her chest and spreading her open. There was nothing she could do to
stop him, not that she wanted to.

People did this, didn’t they? Fuck their soon-to-be-ex
spouse?

Were they really going to do this? Without saying a single
word?

It was like some kind of naughty tryst, some sort of secret
desire revealed. The lust hadn’t died.

His lips coasted down her stomach, his breath warming her.
She arched her back, knowing what was coming and wanting it.

Jake thrust his fingers into her pussy and she groaned. She
gripped the edge of the counter behind her and wrapped her free leg around his
waist, urging him closer. Jake didn’t disappoint. He planted a kiss on her
mound before licking her clit with the flat of his tongue.

Her spine arched and she moaned.

So. Good.

He pumped her with his fingers, holding her body hostage to
his will. A single digit pressed against her anus. Nicole inhaled sharply and
willed herself to relax as he thrust past the tight opening. The first time had
indeed been a shocking experience, but now she knew the pleasure of being
touched everywhere.

In and out, his fingers played her body while his tongue
stimulated her clit. Vibrators and her hands were no substitute for the fire he
ignited.

He curled his fingers, rubbing her G-spot as he sucked her
clit and her body spiraled out of control. She moaned as the sensations
coalesced into an orgasm so deep it shook her very soul.

Jake didn’t wait for her to catch her breath. He gripped her
ass and pulled her toward the edge of the counter. She pushed up, forcing her
muscles to work.

He positioned his cock at her entrance and his gaze flicked
to her face. They stared at each other as he thrust into her. They gasped in
unison, clutching each other as their bodies joined. She gripped his shoulders
and moaned as he pushed in farther.

She dropped her hands to the counter, grasping the edge and
tilting her pelvis until he hit that perfect spot. The kitchen echoed with her
moans. Warmth spread through her abdomen.

Jake yanked her shirt up over her breasts and pulled the
cups of her bra down. Her breasts slid out of the satin restraints. She pried
her hands off the counter and found the drawer knobs below her with her toes.
She pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it on the ground as Jake
swooped down and latched on to her left breast. He flicked her nipple with his
tongue and a zing of arousal shot from her breasts to her pussy and back.

Nicole groaned and threaded her fingers through his hair.
She rocked her hips back and forth. She was so close to orgasm she could taste
it.

He switched to her other breast and she gave in, planting
her hands on the counter behind her and arching her back. He grasped her knees
and forced her legs open wider. He levered himself in and out while his mouth
traveled up to her neck.

She dug a hand back into his hair, pulling at it as the
orgasm erupted inside her. She tossed her head back and moaned. Pleasure shot
through her body, curling higher as his thrusts continued. Her mouth worked,
muttering incoherent words as a spray of colors like fireworks went off behind
her eyelids. The climax just kept going, so intense the pleasure of it ripped
her apart. She screamed as a second wave washed over her. The house echoed with
the raw, intense pleasure spiraling her higher.

Jake flicked her clit and she came apart a third time,
dropping forward against his shoulder and sobbing, curling her toes around the
drawer knobs. His motions grew jerky until he shoved deep and froze. He grunted
and rested his head on her shoulder, sweat clinging to their bodies, breathing
labored.

For several long moments neither stirred. If Nicole kept her
eyes closed, she could lose herself in the memory of before. She’d gone from falling
for the idea of a man in uniform to seeing the person in it. There was so much
about him that was special. Everything she’d wanted. The love, the fun, the
excitement and endless possibilities. He even smelled the same, like soap and
man.

The emotions she’d found once more bubbled up in her chest.
She’d loved and been happy once before with him. Why did things have to end?
Tears she didn’t want to shed pricked her eyes. She tightened her grip on his
shoulders, clinging to his strength.

Jake moved first, pulling out and grabbing one of the few
dish towels to wipe up their mess. He cleaned himself first, washing his hands
and pulling his jeans back up. There wouldn’t be any cuddling after this. No
snuggling in bed. And the kisses were gone.

He ran part of the towel under the tap and used that to
gently clean her thighs. She held her breath and watched him, their gazes never
crossing.

If he hated her she couldn’t tell. He’d be within his
rights, though. But would he treat her with such care if he was that angry with
her?

She sucked in a deep breath to stave off the tears, helpless
to do more than watch him finish the job and toss the towel in the skink.
Without saying a word, he scooped her off the counter and carried her into the
master suite, straight to the bathroom. He placed her on the counter and turned
his attention on the tub, plugging the stopper in the drain and turning the tap
on. He even waited, testing the water until it was the right temperature for
her.

Jake rose and turned toward her, their gazes finally
meeting. She couldn’t read him, not like this. He was too determined, set on
some path she didn’t know. He took her hand, tugged her to her feet and
stripped her of the rumpled clothing. Hand in hand, he helped her into the tub
and waited until she’d relaxed.

Nicole held her breath. What next?

He folded his legs and sat next to her on the floor.

Tears prickled her eyes so she stared up at the frosted
light fixture.

Whenever she was sick or had a really rotten day, Jake used
to draw her a bath and sit with her just like this. He’d listen to her bitch or
was ready to hand her a tissue. Whatever she needed, he was there for her. They
hadn’t done this for a very long time.

The memory of the last time was a searing-hot poker to her
heart. Jake had drawn the bath and left her to cry her tears alone.

Jake placed his hand on the edge of the tub, fingers
extended toward her. This was a bad idea, they didn’t need any more emotional
entanglements between them, but she wanted his touch. She joined their hands,
lacing their fingers together on the ledge. She studied his big palm wrapped
around hers because she couldn’t bring herself to look at him yet.

There were so many words that needed to be said, but she
didn’t want to break this spell. Not now when she felt this close to how things
used to be. A little comfort would go a long way, especially when she was alone
again.

A siren blared from Jake’s pocket and he groaned. Her heart
fell a little.

Of course, duty called.

She squeezed his hand and let him go, as she had to. Her
husband was a hero, and with that came the ugly parts. Like leaving her alone,
tearing him out of bed or away from social engagements. It was part of the job.
She didn’t begrudge it. Being a cop was part of who Jake was at his core, but the
calls always came at the most inopportune times.

He pushed to his knees and leaned over the tub, pressing a
kiss to her brow, a sweet brush of skin on skin, and got to his feet.

She listened to his footsteps retreat until the sound of the
water covered his movements.

Was she doing the right thing? Doubts assailed her from all
sides. If he could kiss her like he meant it could he love her again? Could
they rekindle what they’d lost? Did she want to go that route?

For a while she’d thought they could do it, but he’d
rebuffed or ignored her at every turn. And now this. Did she want to be married
to someone who abandoned her when things got tough? And returned only when she
left? If she returned to their brick home what would happen next time things
got bad?

Nicole turned off the tap when the tub was full and lay in
the water until her fingers and toes weren’t the only things wrinkled. She
stayed in the bath until the water turned cold and she shivered. Only then did
she rise, dripping, and carefully get out. A bath mat went on her mental list
of things to get for her stay. The one towel she’d brought with her wasn’t
nearby, so she dried off with her discarded clothing and left it on the floor.

She stepped into the bedroom, dim now that the sun was
setting. The gold bag Jake had brought with him sat on the bed next to her
missing cell phone.

Nicole glared at the phone and reached for the bag, pulling
out a silk nightgown in her favorite shade of pink. She’d always felt a bit
like Anne of Green Gables when she wore pink, a secret only Jake knew. And
remembered. The nightgown was edged in white lace, with pink flowers stitched
into it and tiny stringlike straps that would crisscross in the back. A
matching pair of panties and a golden cyber-skinned vibrator were in the bottom
of the bag, complete with tags still on them.

Nicole pulled the panties out. The vibrator she’d think
about later. She didn’t care if she washed the panties first, she pulled the
silk and lace on and slipped into bed, wanting to savor the moment. Reality
would come back to bite her in the ass. For now she wanted to cherish this.

He waited until the sounds of rutting had ceased and the two
retreated to the other side of the house. Then he waited some more. The woman
was a simpleton and would never notice his presence, even in the same room. But
the man would.

Jake Vant was an officer never to be underestimated. That
mistake had been made once already, and the price was seven years in prison.

He didn’t dare move from the spare bedroom he’d hidden in,
not yet. Not while the man and woman were here. The minutes crept on and he
marked their progress through the bedroom, into the bathroom and back again by
the squeak of the floors. He’d mapped out every creaking board early on so when
the need arose he could avoid them.

For a while they remained in the bathroom. The sound of
running water tickled his bladder but he remained where he was. The siren blare
made him flinch but he was resolute in the decision to stay where he was.

Swift footsteps, a closing door and the answering rumble of
the garage marked the exit of Officer Jake Vant from the premises.

The lovebirds weren’t as broken up as he’d first believed.

Good.

He could work with this.

Since the bath still ran, he tiptoed out of the bedroom to
see the damage. Shoes, nylons and panties littered the kitchen. Fucking was all
well and good, but he needed the man to return.

A plan stirred in his mind. It wasn’t a great plan, but he
could play on the woman’s emotions. They were such petty, weak things after
all.

He left the house through the back door, careful to make
sure this time it closed all the way. He jumped the fence into the neighbors’
yard. They were out of town judging by their answering machine message and the
pile of unopened mail under the slot in the front door, and so would never know
of their guest. He filched a vase from the kitchen and used a pair of scissors
to harvest a dozen rose blooms from the bushes behind the house. That done, he
returned to the Vant house and left them on the kitchen counter.

Women loved flowers, and he loved making women cry. He bet
the woman cried when he got his revenge on Jake Vant.

* * * * *

Jake set his gas gear bag on the concrete in front of a
rolling dry-erase board kept in the garage for mission prep. Cole scrawled
squares on the board and labeled them House, Barn One, Barn Two, Field One and
so forth. Wherever they were headed, it was a big property. No wonder two teams
had been called in for this one. Instead of the usual team of eight, sixteen
men clustered in close, except for the two stragglers of the bunch, Aaron and
Becca, who’d pulled in seconds apart. As much as Jake loved the thrill of the
job, his heart wasn’t here tonight. It was sitting on the bathroom tile while
his wife soaked away the day’s troubles.

“Circle up, everyone,” Cole said.

“Why can’t we get called to stuff during the day?” Aaron
groused loud enough for the whole group to hear.

Jake was tempted to spout statistics to the golden boy but
resisted. The faster they got through with this, the sooner he could get back
to wooing his wife.

“Narcotics got a warrant for a rural property and we’ve been
called in to help. Seems that an organic farm has been under watch for a while
on suspicion of growing marijuana, but nothing has ever been found on the
premises. Got a tip in today that they were getting a shipment of pot disguised
as livestock hay bales. Officers on site have radioed in that the truck has
arrived and it’s being unloaded here, behind Barn One.” He made a small
rectangle to symbolize the truck.

“Bales are broken down and they’re packing cars. We need to
get in there immediately and try to sting the rest of the delivery. The plan is
for my Alpha Team to drive in unmarked vehicles to the loading point. Team
Gamma will come in on foot from this tree line bordering the road, traverse
Field One and together we will pinch the operation at the truck. Supporting
officers on scene will move in and secure the house and outlying buildings
until we can sweep them.” He continued making lines, arcing from location to
location to show each team’s movements in differing colors.

“Once we have the location secured, we will assume the guise
of the people running this operation and continue to take whoever comes to pick
up their load into custody. It’s going to be a long night, so I hope you’re all
ready. Any questions?” Cole snapped the cap back onto the marker.

“Any idea where these tips are coming from?” Jake had worked
Narcotics for years after leaving patrol, several of them as undercover. While
he was all for taking a truckload of pot off the market, something was off. Why
all these last-second tips and busts? “Call me a skeptic, but we just busted
Jose Garza. It’s unlikely that we should get another tip this big so soon.”

Cole nodded. “I agree, but we can’t look the gift horse in
the mouth right now.”

“Gas?” Jake asked, switching gears.

“Bring it. We might need it for outlying buildings, but we
aren’t going in with it.”

Jake nodded. It made sense since some of the gas canisters
they shot out could get pretty damn hot and even burn whatever they landed on.
If the canister landed on a bale of straw, hay or even pot, it would go up like
tinder and then they’d have a whole other problem on their hands.

A few of the other team members had some logistics questions
Jake listened to, but he couldn’t deny the uneasy sensation gnawing at his
stomach. It was too easy. Something wasn’t right, and he wasn’t thinking about
his personal life either.

“Load up in the B.E.A.R.s,” Cole said when the questions
were taken care of.

The B.E.A.R. trucks were large black armored vehicles. The
name said it all—ballistic engineered armored response counterattack truck. The
vehicles were designed for military and law enforcement in mind to be very fast
tanks, complete with a turret dome in the top of the truck that could be opened
to serve as a sniper or lookout point.

Jake climbed into the truck, hauling his gas gear, and stole
a seat at the front instead of the back. Since the truck was also completely
sealed to keep out such things as gas or other explosions, it was also airtight
and could get as hot as the devil’s crotch. A small A/C unit pumped a pittance
into the back that really only stirred the fragrant air, perfumed with SWAT
gear used a few too many times without cleaning.

Becca slid in next to him and slanted a glance his way, but
he ignored it. The whole team probably knew he was off his game, but it was
hard to put his personal life aside after what he’d just shared with his wife.

Nicole had never shied from frenzied sex. She liked it rough
and fast and slow and tender. But there’d been something else between them
tonight, something he couldn’t name, not yet, but it was small and fragile.

For a few moments it had seemed as if they’d stepped back in
time and nothing had changed. They were still madly in love and happy. Reality
was a bitch. He didn’t think for a moment things were fixed because they got
off and he gave her a present. They had to fall back in love. But how?

“Look alive, people,” Cole called from the back of the
truck.

Voices of the other team chattered over the headset. Jake
could track them in his mind across the whiteboard map.

“We’re through the fence. Making our way through Field One.
Not sure what this stuff is,” the other team leader muttered.

Jake snorted. About the only other person on the whole team
who might know produce by the plant was Cole. The rest of these boys were
citified, born and raised.

“Two cars just pulled in,” came another voice Jake
recognized as a regular command center support officer. He didn’t know her
name, but she’d narrated many a mission.

The set-up for this operation was standard. A mobile command
center was parked a few blocks away where narcotics and patrol officers were
held in reserve until SWAT took the scene. This provided them with a staging
point for preparing, and chances were the truck Jake was in was there. He just
couldn’t be bothered to look.

“We’ve reached the barn,” the other team leader announced.

The truck rumbled forward.

“We’re moving into position,” Cole replied.

This was it.

Jake sucked in a deep breath and pushed his personal
problems aside. He pulled the bulletproof shield on his helmet down and ran his
fingers over the assault rifle he’d use for this mission.

The truck took a few turns. The farm was quickly being
surrounded by suburbs, which was why their operation had gone undetected. Until
now.

“Going in,” the driver said.

“Let’s roll,” Cole replied.

The truck accelerated fast, or at least as fast as an
eight-ton vehicle could, loaded down with eight people in tactical gear.

The unmistakable
pop
and
rat-a-tat-tat
of
gunfire pinged off the sides of the truck.

“Get ready to return fire. Vant, gas.” Cole stood at the
back of the truck and grabbed the handle for a gun port, small openings the
team inside could shoot out of.

Great. They were going to have a lot of fun with this one.

Jake flung the top of his gas bag open and pulled out one of
the grenade launcher-style guns that looked like a large-scale Gatling gun. He
cracked the chamber open and dug out a couple canisters of gas, swaying with
the movement of the truck.

“Sarge, ready,” Jake yelled over the clamor of external
bullets.

“Team Gamma, hold your position. Gas incoming,” Cole yelled
over the comm unit.

Jake grabbed hold of the vertical bar next to his seat. He
rose and pivoted, planting his left knee on the bench. Becca grasped the handle
for the port and nodded.

“Open it,” Jake said.

She twisted the handle and he plugged it with the nose of
the launcher. Aiming the contraption was less about a direct shot and more
about physics, working the weight of the canister, the arc of the shot and the
location of the target, keeping in mind things like wind.

He had to aim looking out a window above the port, which
made it difficult—for anyone else.

Jake squeezed the trigger and the canister whooshed out with
a
ka-chunk
. It arced and hit the ground in front of a group of men with
guns perfectly lit by headlights.

He quickly adjusted and fired a second shot.

Ka-chunk!

He tracked the silver glimmer through the air, sometimes on
feel alone as he lost it against the inky dark sky.

“Gotcha,” he muttered as the canister landed behind the
group, almost under the truck they were unloading.

Two clouds of gas bloomed around the primary group of
suspects.

“Masks on. Go, Gamma Team,” Cole barked.

“Go, go, go,” the other team leader called over the headset.

Jake put the gas gun back in the bag, juggling his assault
rifle and gear while everyone else pulled masks on.

“Vant, turret. Everyone else, go.” Cole opened the back of
the truck and six men piled out. Someone paused long enough to secure the back
door for him.

Jake hated being left in the truck, but the role of sniper
was invaluable. Just not as in the line of fire as he liked.

He reached up and twisted the handle on the turret, then
lowered a platform that folded flat to the wall. He worked fast, adrenaline
kicking in. He scrambled up onto the platform and proceeded to sweep the area.

The farm spread out in front of him, to the south and east,
bordered by trees. The semi truck was to his right, officers lining up bad
guys, some laying facedown and yelling. He would bet they’d gotten a good dose
of the gas.

He shifted his rifle and used the sight to see farther away
from the barn.

SWAT snipers, unlike military snipers, were not there to
kill, at least not most of the time. Becca’s job was to provide invaluable
tactical information back to the team. Of course if a situation arose where
they needed to take someone out, they did. The safety of their team and
citizens was their primary concern.

Movement in a small cornfield caught his eye.

“Two suspects at the front of the semi truck headed south
into the fields,” he said.

“On it.” It sounded like Aaron.

Three officers peeled off and headed after the bad guys.

“Proceeding into the barn,” Cole announced.

Jake watched a small team of officers breach the main entry
to the barn. He wasn’t any help there, so he pivoted, taking in the rest of the
farm. The fields were laid out in well-defined plots, and even with just the
moonlight he could guess what they were. Not a single crop was illegal.

He pivoted to face the farmhouse. Patrol cars lined the drive,
blocking entry or exit. A handful of officers had the front of the house
covered. According to the intel Cole had relayed to their team, the family were
the only ones in the residence.

A window on the side of the house in a dark room shattered.
Jake peered through his scope.

“Patrol, I’ve got activity in the western-facing windows of
the house,” he said.

Other voices spoke over the line, but none acknowledged that
he’d spoken.

The back door of the house was flung open. Jake swung his
scope toward it in time to see a man and two women exit.

“Patrol, I’ve got one male suspect that appears to be taking
two women out the back by force. I do not see a gun, but he is using force. Do
you copy, patrol?”

The back-porch lights blossomed, spilling light on the unfolding
tableau.

A man in overalls carrying a rifle exited just as the first
man pivoted. The first man shoved a taller woman away from him and held the
second, younger female to his chest. Light glinted off a handgun.

“Patrol, I have two shooters at the back of the house,” he
yelled. Why wasn’t anyone responding?