Secret Sins (33 page)

Anna’s eyes widened, then darkened. Tightening her mouth on the pulsing head, her
fingers stroked the throbbing shaft as low pleasure-filled moans vibrated around the
thick head.

Pleasure was almost agony. It was like having a part of his soul stripped from him
to meet with the fire and brilliant emotions in her heavy-lidded gaze.

When it returned, slamming back into him as the last thick pulse of his release spurted
into her mouth, Archer knew he wasn’t the same.

Just as he knew he needed more of her.

The release that tore from him wasn’t enough.

He needed more of her, more of a pleasure so addicting that he wondered if he could
ever let her go.

*   *   *

Staring up at Archer as he pulled free of her gripping mouth, Anna couldn’t help but
lick her lips with sensual satisfaction.

“Oh baby, we’re not done yet.” He surprised her with the harsh growl of his voice.

A gasp escaped her lips as Archer jerked a pillow from the couch and tossed it to
the floor in front of him. Then, bending to it, he gripped her knees and parted them
before pulling her hips to the edge.

“Oh yes,” the whispered need passed her lips as she spread her thighs, her knees lifting
to grip his lean flanks.

Quickly rolling the condom he’d pulled from the back pocket of his jeans onto his
erection, Archer then bent to her.

“Did you think I’d leave you unsatisfied?” he asked, gripping the thick stalk of his
cock as he eased the engorged head through the swollen, juice-laden folds of her pussy.

“I would—” A moan parted her lips as the thick crest pressed into the now oversensitive
entrance. “—would have understood.”

“Watch.” The hoarsely voiced order had her gaze following his.

Reclined back as she was, her thighs spread wide, Anna could see the hard flesh of
his cock parting her intimate lips. The swollen curves hugged the wide crest, her
juices clinging to it as he began pressing inside.

The slow, controlled stretch of her delicate inner muscles had pleasure rising rapidly
as the fiery pleasure-pain began streaking across her nerve endings.

“Archer.” The intensity of the pleasure beginning to overtake her. “It’s so good,
Archer.”

Angling her hips to him, her fingers gripping his arms, Anna watched as, with a final
hard thrust, he buried to the hilt inside her.

The heavy pulse of his cock had her knees tightening on his hips as the imperative
need to orgasm came racing through her again.

Lifting her gaze to his, Anna felt her chest tighten, almost felt the tears that would
have filled her eyes.

The look on his face—

Her breath hitched, a whimpering moan filling the air around them as he began to move.
His hips thrusting, dragging his cock nearly free before pushing inside her. He worked
the heavy flesh to the hilt, pulled back, then thrust hard and heavy inside her again.

The stroke and caress of his heavily veined shaft and his thick, blunt head built
inside Anna.

Pleasure rose in intensity as overexcited nerve endings began to burn, to flare. Thrusting
harder, faster, he locked his gaze on hers, his expression so tender so—what?

What was it?

What emotion was whipping between them?

The intensity of it, like the ecstatic pleasure, only strengthened, increased.

“Archer, please!” The need, the overwhelming sensations were pulsing, expanding inside
her.

When he was groaning, perspiration running in rivulets down his chest, along the side
of his face, his golden-brown eyes seemed more brilliant, more predatory—

“Anna. Sweetheart.” His groan was hoarse, his body tightening as he lifted one hand
from her hips to cup her cheek. “Sweet Anna—”

Archer’s teeth clenched as Anna cried out, her pussy tightening around his cock as
it shuttled back and forth, harder, faster.

Flames erupted inside her.

Electric, pulsing, ecstasy exploded like fireworks inside the clenched, pleasure-tortured
depths of her vagina.

“Fuck! Baby!” His hand tightened at her cheek, some battle raging in his expression
as she felt his release suddenly tear through his corded body.

“Ah fuck!” His face tightened, his gaze turning savage. “Anna. Ah God. Mine!” His
hips slammed forward as she felt his cock flex, pulse.

The muscles of her pussy rippled and tightened around him.

“Mine! Damn you, you’re mine!”

His lips covered hers.

Possessive, demanding. The kiss marked her soul and stilled the words being torn from
his lips.

Caught in the cataclysm swirling through both of them, Anna swore she felt a part
of herself merge with him. Felt a part of him merge with her.

And for one precious moment out of time, Anna knew what it meant to belong—

CHAPTER 19

The alarm that began blaring through the house brought Archer instantly out of bed
and reaching for his pants. Jerking them on, he grabbed his weapon from beside the
bed and turned to Anna as she quickly dressed.

“Archer, what the fuck?” Rory yelled outside the bedroom.

Archer jerked the bedroom door open. “Stay with her and get two men in here. Send
the others next door to the Brocks.”

Archer was running through the house as he shouted out the order.

Archer had tied the Brocks’ alarm into his after an attempted break-in the year before.
The parents worked midnight shifts at the Emergency Care Clinic, leaving their teenage
daughter, Callie Brock, alone in the house.

“Jerking his cell phone from his jeans as he ran down the stairs, he quickly hit the
speed-dial number for his deputy.

“Caine,” the deputy answered.

“Get your ass to the Brocks.” Disconnecting, Archer was out the back door of his house
and racing across the short distance to the side door of the Brocks’ house.

He could hear Callie even as he shoved the key into the lock and twisted it to unlock
the door.

Pushing into the house he was aware of two of Brute Force’s agents coming in behind,
one of them the single female on their protective payroll.

Callie was screaming upstairs.

The sound of her cries had a growl of fury tearing from his throat. He’d spent enough
time in the military overseas to suspect what had happened from the sound of those
hoarse, terrified screams.

“Cover me,” Archer ordered, though he was certain no one was in the house any longer.

“Callie. Callie, it’s Archer,” he yelled as he tore up the stairs.

Following her screams he burst through the bedroom door, instantly finding the teenager
where she was huddled, a sheet drawn around her naked body, the cell phone she’d used
to activate the alarm clenched in her fingers.

Shoulder-length blonde hair was tangled and tear damp as she stopped screaming only
to collapse in tears. Callie laid her head against her up-raised knees, sobs tearing
from her chest as Marta moved quickly around him and bent to her knees in front of
her.

“Callie, sweetheart.” The agent’s calm voice and compassionate tone made the young
girl’s head lift as her breath hitched violently and her sobs became harder.

“Callie, how badly are you hurt?” Marta asked softly as Archer and the other agent
moved quickly to the open doorway. “I need you to tell me how badly you’re hurt.”

Archer glimpsed Callie shaking her head quickly, though the sobs became louder for
just a moment before she seemed to control them once again.

“I was able—able to turn—the alarm on.” Jerky and tear-roughened, her voice had fury
stabbing at his senses. “He was in dark clothes—” she sobbed raggedly. “And a mask.”
She was rocking herself as Marta moved cautiously to rub her arm. “He said, said I
was a means to an end,” she cried. “I was just bait—like a worm on a hook—” she sobbed.
“He said don’t forget, you’re just a worm on a hook.”

Just a tool.

Archer’s head lifted and turned, suspicion suddenly exploding through his mind.

Jerking his cell phone from his pants he hit Rory’s name in his contact list and listened
to the phone ring—and ring

His heart stopped in his chest as Caine raced to the top of the stairs and Archer
turned to him slowly.

Just a tool—a means to an end.

“Caine, with me.” Archer didn’t hesitate.

Leaving Callie with Marta and the other agent he was down the stairs and out of the
house in a matter of seconds.

He’d closed the side door to the house and it would have locked automatically.

But it wasn’t closed. It was open.

“Anna.” Archer yelled her name, knowing, he knew— “Anna.”

“Rory’s not answering his phone,” the deputy yelled.

Archer all but tripped over Rory’s fallen body in the foyer.

He went to his knees, staring at the back of the younger man’s head and the amount
of blood that stained his black hair, white shirt, and the honey-colored wood of the
floor.

“Calling the EMTs.” Caine’s voice was distant, barely heard.

There was a buzzing in Archer’s ears, in his senses. As he checked Rory’s pulse, there
wasn’t even enough emotion left inside him to feel relief that Rory was alive.

He rose to his feet, knowing—

Ah God, he knew.

Moving up the stairs, he turned and walked into the bedroom.

Oscar was lying on the floor, dazed, obviously hurt.

Kneeling, Archer checked him out. There were no broken bones, but blood smeared his
head from a cut, and more blood smeared his face.

Pulling the cat’s mouth open, Archer saw threads, blood, and possible flesh between
the cat’s teeth.

“Archer?” Nash and Caine entered the bedroom slowly.

Handing the cat to the surprised CSI he said, “There’re flesh and fabric fibers in
his teeth. We have the Slasher’s DNA, thanks to Oscar.”

He could hear the dull lifelessness in his voice.

“We found tire imprints in the woods behind the house. One of Ivan’s men is casting
and photographing them.”

“They have her.” Archer stared around the bedroom.

Her gown was tossed to the floor; she’d been dressing when he tore off to check on
Callie.

The clothes she had worn that day were still on the chair, but he’d seen her jerking
jeans on as he left the bedroom.

“I left her alone,” he said, his chest tightening to the point that he wondered if
his entire body would explode.

“Rory was here, Archer,” his deputy argued. “And he’s a damned good agent. Whoever
took him out caught him unaware.”

“Or it was someone he suspected he could trust,” Nash interjected.

“I left her alone,” he repeated. “I should have taken her with me.”

“The two agents outside saw the truck leaving the woods and rushed to attempt to get
a tag number. There were no tags, but they’ve seen the truck before.” The agent he’d
left with Marta was suddenly at the door.

“It was the same truck the shooter was driving,” Archer stated.

He felt—fuck, he felt broken inside.

“It was,” the agent agreed.

“The tires from that truck were unique, Archer,” Nash said then. “I’ve been running
them. They’re not even sold in Colorado. They’re extremely expensive and custom made—”

Archer turned back to him and saw the cat missing. “Why aren’t you digging that meat
out of Oscar’s teeth? That’s fucking human flesh. It’s an ID.”

“And Gregor Resnova just carried him straight out of here with a message that’s he’s
called someone else in straight from New York. He took the cat to the labs.”

Archer turned to Caine. “Get to the labs.”

“He had half a dozen of Ivan’s agents with him,” the deputy reported. “They’re covered,
Archer.”

Archer turned back to the other agent. “Callie?”

“Her parents are on their way. She wasn’t raped, she was used.”

“She was bait,” he said softly.
Like a worm on a hook. Don’t forget, you’re just a worm on a hook.

It was a message.

The abductor was Sorenson’s partner. It wasn’t Sorenson, but the County attorney would
be waiting wherever he took her.

“Archer?” John questioned, watching him closely.

He turned to the other agent. “Get to Wayne Sorenson’s house, see if he’s there. If
he is, I want him here, and I don’t care how you get him here. If he’s not, see if
you can find any hint of a cabin, or a residence near a lake, or fishing hole. A vacation
home, anything. It would be close to Corbin County, if not in Corbin County.”

The agent turned and rushed from the room.

God, he left her alone.

“Ryan’s on his way,” John assured him.

Archer nodded.

Flipping his phone open, he hit another contact.

“Jordan Malone,” a dark voice answered.

“Rory’s been hurt, bad,” he told the former Navy SEAL. “They took my woman, Jordan,”
he said, his voice tight. “The Slasher has her, and I have no idea where he took her
or how long I have.”

There was a moment’s silence on the line.

“Rory called in last week about the case,” Jordan told him then. “Noah Blake and Micah
Sloane are currently in Corbin County, and have been for several days. As soon as
they know something, they’ll contact you. I’ll be there within hours.”

The line disconnected.

Archer inhaled slowly, aware of John Caine watching him, his gaze narrowed.

“There are two shadows in town. Stay out of their way and pass the word along,” he
warned the deputy.

“And we know them from the other fucking shadows in this goddamned place, how?” John
cursed. “There are so many fucking players here I’m about to get whiplash.”

“You can get whiplash on your own time,” Archer informed him. “Callie’s attacker left
us a message. She was a worm on a hook. Think John. She’s bait. A means to an end.
A worm on a hook.”

“They have a hold on her somehow, or have her in a position she can’t escape from,”
John answered instantly. “Bait—it’s more literal. They’re holding her next to a place
where you could fish.”