Seeking Vengeance: Callaghan Brothers, Book 4 (18 page)

Nicki’s only answer was to shrug.  If he wasn’t sharing, she didn’t see why she should.  Besides, these pancakes were to die for.  And she was going to need her strength.  She would be out of here soon.  She might as well enjoy it while she could.

Sean was watching her intently.  Nicki had the distinct impression she was being analyzed.

“What?” she finally asked through a mouthful of fluff.

“You’re not freaking out.”

She chewed, swallowed, downed the small glass of orange juice he’d placed in front of her.  “Should I be?”

Sean leaned back against the counter, crossing his massive arms over his broad chest, and one ankle over the other.  It was such a supremely masculine pose that Nicki found herself fighting a smirk.  He
was
a damn fine looking man.  And given his performance over the last few hours, he definitely earned the right to be a little smug.  She wished she hadn’t made it quite so easy for him, though.  It was somewhat demeaning to recall her begging pleas and whimpers.

“You were yesterday.”

Yes, she supposed she was.  When she realized that Sean had come inside her she had panicked.  But once she calmed down and did a little calculating she realized she was still protected.  She knew she was clean – and Sean certainly seemed like the type to ensure he was as well.  What her mind had trouble grasping this morning was that last night the thought of using a condom never even occurred to her.  Even more bizarre, the minute possibility that she was pregnant did not horrify her nearly as much as it should have. 

She shrugged, not knowing how she should respond to that.  It seemed like Sean’s expectations were changing, which meant hers had to change as well.  It was much easier to focus her attention on the plump, juicy strawberries that were currently calling out to her than on the heavy, emotional stuff. 

“Got any whipped cream left?” she asked.

Sean’s eyes glittered.  He
had
used quite a bit on her last night.  With a masculine grace that had her clenching her thighs together, Sean retrieved the last canister from the fridge and topped her strawberries.  His eyes dropped suggestively to her chest, prompting her to recall in vivid detail the way he had covered her nipples and licked her clean.  The same nipples that were currently pushing against the material in a dramatic bid for his attention.

She eyed his lengthening shaft warily as she licked the cream from her lips.  Beneath the thin pants he had slung low over those hips – God, she’d never seen a “V” that exquisitely defined before; there was no hiding those assets.  He watched her watching him, growing more aroused by the second.

“Keep looking at me like that while you’re licking your lips and you will not get to finish your breakfast,” he warned.  Even his growl had her girl parts snapping to attention.  It was a low, almost feral sound that shouted out a great big “hey” to her erogenous zones.

As delicious as an encore sounded, she meant to keep her wits about her this morning.  No more losing herself in the mindless throes of passion; she had to finish what she came here to do, and time was of the essence. 

She quickly pulled her eyes away from his impressive package and focused on the tattoo on his bicep.  It was a breathtakingly intricate Celtic design, with some sort of detailed mechanical device in the center that reminded her of a Da Vinci sketch. 

“Tell me about your tat,” she said.

“Family crest,” Sean answered, his voice slightly rough.  “Yours?”

She wasn’t sure to which one he was referring; she had several.  Last night he had spent a considerable amount of time tracing the spiraling design over her hip with his tongue.  And surely he’d had a lovely view of the fallen angel on her back when they had...

Nicki slammed a wall down on those thoughts before the desire for an encore became unbearable.  And she had no intention of sharing the reasoning behind her ink; it would be impossible to explain that without explaining everything, and there was no way in hell she was going to do that.  Those were memories that she had commanded to the deepest, darkest pits of her blackened heart, for her and her alone.

“Nothing so meaningful,” she said elusively.  “How many brothers do you have?”

“Six.  You?”

“Just Nick.  Any sisters?”

“Three, by marriage.” 

It was an interesting answer, she thought.  Most men would have just answered “no”, or maybe mentioned having some “in-laws”, but Sean considered these women to be as much a part of his family as if they had been born to it.  A sharp but brief pang of envy shot through her at the thought of being part of this man’s life beyond a night or two.  Would his brothers and their wives accept her quite as fully and easily?  No, she thought wryly.  There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.  If what she’d seen in the hospital lobby was any indication of the type of women Callaghan men went after, she was about as far off the mark as she could get.

The minute she finished her breakfast Sean whisked the plate away, along with the silverware, glass, and mug.  He hadn’t prepared one for himself, she’d noticed. 

“You’re not eating anything?” she asked.

He gave her a wicked smile.  “Now, baby, whatever gave you that idea?”

Sean sat down on one of the stools and patted the counter.  “Come up here.”

Excitement flared through her body, but she really should be going.  She shook her head, but the denial got stuck in her throat.  And why couldn’t she get her legs to move?

Sean chuckled, reaching out to capture her and then smoothly lifted her onto the countertop as if she weighed nothing.  He repositioned himself on the stool between her legs, his hand bringing a resounding crack on her right bottom cheek as she fidgeted.

“Behave,” he growled, “or I’ll bind you again.”

She stilled, though the thought of restraints was intensely arousing.  Odd, she had never seen herself as such a submissive.  But with Sean, she
needed
to be.

He took his time with her.  Spreading her legs.  Rubbing chilled, juicy strawberries over her soft folds, then topping the area with whipped cream.  Biting.  Sucking.  Licking.  Kissing.  Devouring her as if she was a seven-course meal.  He brought her to the edge several times, only to pull back and begin the onslaught all over again.

“You know,” she panted as she tried to thrust her hips against his face and take the release she so desperately needed, “it’s not polite to play with your food.”

Sean laughed against her, and it was one of the most erotic things she’d ever felt.  “You’re right,” he agreed.  He kicked the stool away and quickly freed himself, plunging into her, filling her until she thought she would burst.  He fucked her hard and fast, taking his release the same time he gave her hers.

He was still leaning over her when the doorbell rang.  Sean cursed and grabbed for the remote beneath the counter as a small, mounted five-inch screen flared to life above them.  Two unfamiliar men looked directly into the security camera, flashing badges.

“Fuck,” he muttered, withdrawing from Nicki’s wet heat.  Even if they hadn’t flashed their badges, the dark suits, white shirts, black ties and shades screamed Fed.  “Nicki, baby, go on into the bedroom.  I’ve got some business to take care of.”

Nicki blinked, but said nothing.  Sean thought these guys were here for him?  He obviously didn’t seem at all surprised, just annoyed at the timing.  Just how many Feds showed up at his door anyway?

She couldn’t think about that now; she had to get the hell out and do some damage control.  The fact that Fisher and Brookes were here only drove that point home.  She stayed too long, taken things too far.  There would be consequences.

* * *

S
ean pulled on his jeans, not bothering to grab a shirt.  He waited until Nicki disappeared into the bedroom before remotely disengaging the locks on the lower door.   

“Agents Fisher and Brookes, DEA,” the taller one said.  “May we come in?”

Sean examined both badges and ids before allowing them to enter.  “What can I do for you?”

One of the men removed his sunglasses and considered Sean for a moment before answering.  “We are looking for Nicolette Milligan.  Is she here?”

Nicki?  What did the DEA want with her?  Did it have something to do with her brother?  Christ, he was going to kick that kid’s ass next time he saw him. 

While Sean’s mind raced, his face remained calm.  He even managed a little smile.  “Well, now, why don’t you tell me what you need and maybe I can help you?”

The shorter, stockier agent returned his smile, but without a trace of amusement.  “Are you aware of the penalty for holding a Federal agent captive, Mr. Callaghan?”

Federal agent?  Captive?  What.  The.  Fuck?

“Hey guys,” said a familiar voice as Nicki emerged from the bedroom fully dressed.  She didn’t seem at all surprised to see them. 

“Nix,” nodded the tall one with a genuine – and far too affectionate – smile.  Fisher, his badge had proclaimed.  Sean turned around to face her, his eyes glowing like lasers.  “You’re a Fed?”

Nicki had the good sense to blush a little.  “Sort of.”  As she dropped all pretense, Sean got his first good look at the real Nicolette Milligan.  Strong.  Quiet.  And impossibly alone.   “I’m sorry, Sean.  I couldn’t tell you.”

Son of a fucking bitch
.  He’d suspected something, but not this.  It didn’t make sense.  Ian had back doors into every Federal database there was, and he’d turned up nothing. 

“Does Nick know?”

“No.  No one does.  Except them.”  She flicked her eyes at the two men waiting patiently, then looked at him.  “And now you.” 

Sean felt something rip through his chest.  It was at once sad and proud, tentative and hopeful.  “But then you understand all about secrets, don’t you?”

In that moment he knew that she had just given him a rare gift.  She
trusted
him.  Maybe not completely – he doubted anyone was granted that much of a boon – but it was enough.  One of the men shifted his weight impatiently at the door, clearly anxious to be on his way. 

“You can’t just leave, Nicki,” Sean said.  Nicki was the woman meant for him.  She couldn’t simply leave. 

She looked at him again, a sad smile ghosting her lips as she laid her hand on his arm.  “You have no idea how much you’ve done for me,” she said softly, and Sean couldn’t help but notice how her eyes were like fluid quicksilver.  How could he ever have thought them hard and cold?

“I have to,” she said simply. 

There was an awkward silence as they all stood there in Sean’s living room.  The two agents exchanged looks of veiled disbelief with each other.  There was no question what he and Nicki had been doing.  He looked exactly like a man who had spent the last twelve hours fucking hard, and Nicki – despite the fact that she had cleaned herself up and gotten dressed – did as well.  There was no denying the glow on her face or the sexual tension between them.

Sean analyzed both men carefully – their body language, their facial expressions - assessing their relationships with Nicki.  They both liked her and respected her.  The taller guy had a thing for her, but as far as Sean could discern, it was purely one-sided and he hid it well.  Nicki probably didn’t even know.  But Sean did.  He caught the taller one’s eye and made sure that guy got a very clear message.  Nicki was his, and he did not share.

Sean flicked a glance back at Nicki; her actions were just as telling.  She avoided looking any of them in the eye.  Instead she looked at their shoulders, smoothed her hoodie, checked out her laces. 

Despite the lack of verbal exchange, there was an awful lot being said in that room. 

“I can’t let you do this,” Sean said, wrapping his hand around Nicki’s wrist.  He didn’t know what she was planning to do, but there was no mistaking the anticipation surrounding them, like a team preparing for a mission. 

He expected her to resist; she didn’t.

If he hadn’t been so blinded by the need to keep her close and here with him, he might have listened to the warning bells going off in his head.

* * *

N
icki let him draw her into his arms, curling against him one last time, hoping the feel of his hard body, his warmth and his scent would be enough to carry her through for a little while.

“I know,” she said quietly, tilting her head up to his.  She allowed his lips to brush hers for a moment before reaching up to cup his head.  His eyes widened a split-second later when she pressed the tiny needle into his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes filled with unshed tears as her two partners stepped up to ease Sean to the ground.

“Jesus, he’s a big one, Nix,” grunted Fisher beneath Sean’s dead weight.

“Be careful with him,” she said.  “He’s one of the good guys.”

Brookes snorted.  “He’s a fucking Mack truck, Nix.  I don’t think a little tumble’s going to do him much damage.  Nice use of stinger, by the way.”

Nicki put a blanket over Sean, then knelt beside him on the floor.  His eyes were still open, and she knew he could see and hear everything.  Her heart nearly broke with the shock and betrayal she saw in those beautifully expressive eyes. 

“It won’t last long,” she said, tucking a pillow beneath his head.  “It’s a paralytic, but a mild one.  You might feel a bit stiff for a couple of hours.  Drink lots of non-alcoholic fluids and you’ll get through it faster.”

She spoke quickly, hating that it had come to this, knowing there was no other way.  “I know you don’t understand,” she said as a tear fell from her eye onto his cheek.  She wiped it away, repeating the motion with the pads of her fingers, wanting just one more touch.  “But I have to go.  It’s for the best.” 

She leaned over and added quietly in his ear, “Take care of Nick, okay?  He thinks the world of you; you’re the only one he’ll listen to.  And tell him I love him.”  Nicki brushed one last kiss over his lips then forced herself away.

She set the lock and pulled the door tightly behind her, following the others down the stairs. 

“You’ve got my gear?” she asked, her voice stronger as she hastily wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.