Special Ops Exclusive (16 page)

Would a coward have put his neck on the line for the sake of his country?

No, he didn’t think so.

“So what’s the order, sir? Do you want me to assemble another team?”

He mulled it over. “You might as well. Maybe the next crew will have better luck.”

“Or maybe they’ll die at Barrett’s hands, too,” was the bitter reply.

“Find better men.”

“This crew was my best.”

“This crew was garbage,” he snapped. “Otherwise they’d have taken care of our little problem. So hire some soldiers who are more skilled, and get the job done.”

He hung up without a word, angrily slamming the phone on the fireplace mantel. It required several deep breaths to ease the volatile emotions swirling in his gut.

Setting down his tumbler, he headed for the desk and peered at his calendar. Thursday’s entry caught his eye, inspiring a nod of satisfaction. Good. McAvoy would be back from Beijing. His gaze shifted to the following day where the words
Veterans Gala
were penciled in.

Christ, the last thing he was in the mood for was a highly publicized event.

He shoved the annoying reminder aside and glanced at McAvoy’s name again.

It might be time. As unhappy as the idea made him, he knew they’d officially reached a critical point here.

It was time to start distancing himself from this Meridian virus fiasco. Time to transfer the burden of blame onto someone else’s shoulders.

Time to save himself.

* * *

Nick woke up to the feel of a warm, wet mouth encircling his shaft.

As wicked reality settled in, he nearly jerked three feet in the air, eliciting a soft laugh from the woman who’d decided to bestow him with a wake-up call never to be forgotten.

“What are you doing?” he croaked, even as his hips lifted and his arousal sought out that incredible mouth again.

“Seducing you.” Her soft laughter tickled his engorged head. “Officially.”

Then she took him deep in her mouth and sucked.

A wild groan burst out of his chest. She was trying to kill him.

Well, then you’ll die happy. Now, shut up and enjoy this
.

He decided to listen to that impatient voice. Closing his eyes, he thrust his hands in Rebecca’s hair, loving the way those silky red strands slipped through his fingers.

Her enthusiasm was a major turn-on. She took the time to discover what he liked, though in all honesty, he couldn’t imagine her doing anything he
didn’t
like.

With featherlight licks, she dragged her tongue along the length of him and teased his tip, making him groan again. Then she brought her hand into play, wrapping it around his base and stroking firmly. She created a steady tempo with her hand and mouth, driving him to a level of arousal that had him clawing at the sheets.

When his body started tingling, an indication that he was perilously close to losing control, he shoved a hand in her hair again and stilled her eager movements.

Rebecca lifted her head and gave him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. But it’s my turn.”

“What are you—”

He flipped her over before she could finish, bringing a startled squeak to her lips. He swallowed that adorable sound with his kiss, then pulled back and met her pleasure-hazy eyes.

“Mind if I do a little seducing of my own?” he murmured.

“Not at all,” she said breathlessly.

“Good, because I’ve been dying to have my way with you since the moment we met.”

And he proceeded to do just that. He kissed every inch of her hot, silky flesh. Nuzzled her neck, sucked on her ear. Her soft whimpers and husky moans told him exactly what she liked and he paid attention to the signs her body gave him—the way her nipples went impossibly harder when he flicked them sharply with his tongue. The shiver that rolled through her when he kissed that sensitive spot right above her hip bone. The way she shuddered when his fingers grazed her warm mound.

He inched his way south, and when his mouth found her core, she cried out in delight.

As a spark of male satisfaction lit his gut, he focused on pleasing her. He licked her, slowly, lovingly, enjoying the way she sighed, the way she murmured his name. Her hips began to move and he followed her rhythm, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, refusing to stop until she toppled right over it.

“Nick.” She said his name on a groan and clawed at his shoulders, urging. “I need more. I need you.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice. He swiftly covered her petite body, no longer fearful that he was crushing her. Whenever he tried to give her room to breathe, to raise himself over her on his forearms, she always pulled him down so that her breasts were crushed against his chest and held him in place. Truth was, he absolutely loved the way her body constantly strained to get closer to his.

And he loved the feeling of sheer completion that overtook him when he pushed into her welcoming heat. As usual, the need to take her hard and fast was ever present, but he forced himself to slow the pace and make it last.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Rebecca whispered as he began to move in slow, deep strokes.

“Very nice,” he said hoarsely.

The mattress squeaked as they moved together, neither one of them racing to reach that finish line. Nick cradled Rebecca’s head with his hands and kissed her deeply, his tongue matching the movements of his cock.

When release finally seized his body, it wasn’t so much an explosion as little sparks of heat that danced through his nerve endings and shivered along every inch of his flesh. He knew Rebecca was feeling that same rush of bliss because her eyes had glazed over and she was rocking her hips with abandon.

Eventually they both went still, and a comfortable silence fell over the room. Nick rolled onto his back and twisted his head to look at her while a feeling of pure and utter content washed over him.

“Wanna go back to sleep?” he suggested.

“Kinda.” She laughed. “Is that too decadent of us?”

“Well, McAvoy isn’t back until tomorrow. What else are we going to do until then?”

She wiggled her eyebrows in an overly lewd way that made him smile. “How about more of what we did just now?”

“Well, duh, Rebecca. Of course we’ll be doing that.”

“A lot?”

“A lot,” he confirmed. “In fact, we should definitely go to sleep. That way I can be the one giving
you
the wake-up surprise this time.”

“Deal.” She abruptly slid off the bed. “Gotta pee. BRB.”

A laugh tickled his throat. Lord, he liked this woman. She was so full of life, so fun and sassy and entertaining—yet at the same time, focused and intelligent. It was an odd combination, but he liked it.

What he
wasn’t
crazy about was the way his heart skipped a beat when Rebecca stepped out of the bathroom, or how his pulse sped up when she hopped back into bed and cuddled against him like it was something they’d been doing for years. Cuddling, having sex, laughing together.

Not that there was anything wrong with any of those things. He liked doing them with her, but...

But what?
the voice in his head mocked.

After a moment, he gave up on trying to finish the rest of that thought. It was too early in the morning to be thinking about stuff like this.

Which was why he promptly rolled over again, spooned behind Rebecca and went back to sleep.

* * *

Nick wasn’t kidding—three hours later, Rebecca was coaxed out of slumber by the feel of his tongue between her legs, which led to another round of incredible sex that left them both breathless. Afterward, they devoured the two remaining sandwiches that Nick had stashed in the fridge the night before, then returned to bed.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this lazy,” she confessed as she idly dragged a finger over Nick’s bare chest.

“Me neither,” he said in a contented voice. “I think I like it.”

“I don’t know. It feels wrong. I feel like we should be investigating, following up on a lead, looking for a clue. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah. But our only lead is still out of town. McAvoy’s the one who dealt with Waverly, and chances are, he’s Mr. X.”

“And if he is?” she asked carefully. “You’re not going to go all Rambo again and kill him, are you?”

Nick’s pecs vibrated with his laughter, tickling her ear. “Relax, I’m not pulling a Rambo again. I promised my dad we’d handle the fallout properly, remember? McAvoy will be going to jail, not the grave.”

“Good, because it would be better for my career if he was alive,” she teased. “That way I can score an exclusive with the good old dep sec def.”

She could swear Nick’s abdomen tensed, but when she ran her fingers over his tight six-pack, his muscles were relaxed.

“I don’t know how you have the stomach to interview people like that,” he admitted. “I remember that segment you ran last year about America’s child predators. I wanted to throw up listening to some of those sick bastards.”

“Me, too,” she said frankly. “Believe me, being in all those prison visitation rooms and hearing those men try to excuse their crimes was pure torture. Jesse almost had to pull me off one of them. I was two seconds from strangling the life out of him after he made an appalling comment about redheaded girls.”

Now Nick
definitely
stiffened. “I probably would have killed the son of a bitch.” He paused, hesitated. “Yet you still put yourself through that. Why?”

“People needed to be aware that predators like that existed. Sometimes when I run with a story, it’s to shed light on an injustice, or to inspire others to act, or change, or contribute.” She shrugged. “Other times, I just want to warn citizens that there are some messed-up people in this world. Those prisoners probably thought they were getting to defend their actions, but that’s not why I put them on the air. I wanted to warn parents that predators are everywhere—in the playground, in schools, in grocery stores. And I wanted those parents to take better precautions when it came to their kids.”

Nick dragged his hand over her bare back in a fleeting caress. “Do you want kids of your own?” he asked, curious.

“Definitely.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “A boy and a girl.”

He grinned. “Have it all planned out, huh?”

“Yep. I love kids.” She grinned back. “I think I’d be a really fun mom.”

“Will you quit your job once you have kids?”

She wrinkled her brow. “Of course not.”

“So you plan on taking off and leaving your children at home with your husband or a nanny when you’re on assignment?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Taking off? It’s not like I’m gone for years at a time. Other parents travel a lot more for their jobs. I’m gone for only a few days usually. Sometimes a few months, but only if I’m covering a war zone or something huge. I plan on being there for my children, don’t you worry.”

When he grew silent, she studied his troubled expression and smiled again. “By the way, I think you’d be a good father.”

That grave look in his eyes faded. “A good one. Not a fun one?” he teased.

“No, you’ll be fun, too, when you’re not in father-hen mode.”

Not that she was complaining about that particular quality of his. She was actually beginning to enjoy the way he fussed over her and how attuned he was to her needs. Bringing her sandwiches because he knew she hated those prepackaged meals. Surprising her with a pen and notebook he’d swiped from the deli—he’d stolen them right off the counter just so she’d be able to jot down her thoughts. Nick Barrett, committing theft to make her happy.

She’d never been with anyone like him, and she had to admit, she was finding her time with Nick a lot more rewarding than all her past relationships combined.

“What was your father like when you were growing up?” she asked, suddenly curious to learn more about the man in her bed. “Was he fun?”

“Not really. He was strict. Very big on rules, and right and wrong, and taking responsibility for your actions. It’s a military thing—he came from a long line of army generals. The drill-sergeant attitude is in his DNA.”

“And your mom?”

“She followed my dad’s lead when it came to discipline,” Nick replied, absently running his fingers through her hair.

“Did she work?”

“Nah, she stayed home and took care of me and Viv. She was really into the domestic stuff—cooking and gardening and doing these dorky crafts. She’d always sucker me into helping her, too. My friends would be out riding their bikes and I’d be helping my mom paint a bird feeder, or making a collage out of found items in the woods behind our house.”

Rebecca snickered. “I think you loved every second of it.”

After a beat, he sighed. “You’re right. I did. My mom was just so easy to be around, whereas my dad was so stern and composed, you know? She was like a ray of sunshine that lit up our house.”

Hearing the pain in his voice, Rebecca stroked his chest in a soothing motion. “When did she die?”

“When I was fifteen, and my sister was seventeen. My dad never really got over it. He hasn’t dated another woman in the thirteen years since Mom died. Whenever Viv and I bug him about it, he says he’s not ready. Sometimes I wonder if he ever will be.”

“He must have really loved her.”

“He did. They had the kind of marriage you see in those cheesy family sitcoms. So in love, decades later.”

And that was what Nick wanted—Rebecca suddenly knew it without a shred of doubt. Nick aspired for what his parents had shared. That everlasting love, the sunny housewife who spent time at home with her kids while her husband brought home the bacon.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as she realized something else. She could never be the docile housewife that Nick wanted. She craved excitement, adventure, new experiences. Her genetic makeup didn’t allow her to sit idle. She didn’t want to experience the world looking out the window of her kitchen while she slid a fresh tray of cookies into the oven—she’d
never
wanted that.

But Nick did.

Question was, what did that mean for them?

Or better yet, what did she
want
it to mean? Did
she
want a future with this man?