Targeted (27 page)

Exactly what he needed to hear. Though he hated to stop touching her, he paused to grab a few condoms from his bag. This was definitely going to be more than a one-condom night. He threw a couple on the nightstand and ripped one open with shaking hands. Jack had no problem taking down a moving target in rough wind from a thousand yards or stalking someone with patience for weeks, yet this—
this
—had him acting like a randy teenager about to have sex for the first time. Which was kind of what he felt like. Hell, he’d never forget their first time. He’d been nervous as hell, determined that she’d come before him and that he wouldn’t hurt her. That hadn’t worked out the way he’d thought, but the second time . . . yeah, he’d had her crying out his name as she climaxed.

Sophie sat up and wrapped her arms around her exposed chest. Her damp hair tumbled around her shoulders, and in addition to looking sexy and incredibly seductive, she suddenly looked vulnerable. And maybe a little nervous. Despite the need thrumming through him, he pushed down his disappointment when he realized she’d changed her mind.

After laying the foil packet down, he sat on the edge of the bed. “We can stop right now. You’ve been through a lot and—”

She blinked once, then dropped her arms, giving him another shot of her very kissable breasts. “No, it’s not that. I want . . . this.
A lot
. It’s just been a long time for me.”

“Me too.” Using control he didn’t know he possessed, he managed to keep his eyes on her face instead of straying to her exposed breasts when all he wanted to do was kiss them again.

Her dark eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t believe him, so he leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. Gently at first, then more insistently. He teased the seam of her lips open until he’d completely invaded her mouth. Maybe he should do the gentlemanly thing and completely stop, but he wanted to be inside her too much. He hadn’t been lying when he said it had been a while for him. His job wasn’t conducive to any type of serious relationship, and one-night stands had become depressing a long time ago. And he never slept with anyone connected to his job—until Sophie.

Threading one of his hands through the curtain of her hair, he cupped her scalp as his other hand found its way to her breast. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. Wished he had more than two hands so he could stroke her everywhere at once. Slowly he swept the pad of his thumb over her nipple. It hardened even more, the little nub rigid under his touch. When she sighed with complete trust, something inside him shifted.

In his profession, getting too attached to anyone could get him killed. He’d learned long ago not to let any attachments get in the way of the job. Tonight, however, he was breaking all his rules. He was already attached to this woman.
His
woman. Even though he wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet, it didn’t matter. Tonight was going to change everything for him. Sophie had already changed him in the few days they’d been together.

“Clothes off now,” Sophie murmured against his mouth as her fingers dipped under the elastic of his boxers.

When she wrapped her fingers around his cock, he jerked against her. Then she stroked him. Once, twice, three times—he abruptly pulled back. Breathing hard, he shook his head. He couldn’t find his voice, but she seemed to understand. If she continued touching him he’d lose it in her hand and there was no way in hell that was happening. Not when he had a chance to be inside her, when his single fantasy for over a decade was about to come true.

He’d wanted to take his time, but everything moved in a flurry. His boxers and her skimpy shorts were off in seconds and then like a fucking miracle he was nestled between her thighs. His heart beat wildly as he stared down at her, his cock resting against her lower abdomen. Stretched out on the sheets with her dark hair pillowed around her and her lips swollen, she looked like a sexy pagan offering. But she didn’t belong to anyone but him.

As he shifted down so that his cock was closer to her wet entrance, her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. She dug her heels into his ass, urging him on. Her chest moved rapidly in tune with her shallow breathing. Those dark eyes of hers were staring at him with too many emotions for him to define, but he saw raw lust there and it floored him. Thankfully the erratic beat of her heart matched his own. He wasn’t alone in this internal torrent, which made him feel a little saner.

“You’re beautiful,” he said as he cupped her cheek. Not poetry and the words felt so damn inadequate for how he felt about her, but a soft, almost shy smile touched her lips before he pressed his to hers again.

This kiss was different. Softer, slower, more sensual. His tongue danced against hers while he skimmed her rib cage and hips with his fingers. Her skin was like silk underneath him.

When he moved again and rubbed his hard length against the folds of her sex, her fingers dug into his back. Before things went too far, he grabbed the condom from the nightstand and sheathed himself. Next time he wanted her to do it, but he didn’t trust himself to let her touch him at the moment. And as he rolled it on, his hands shook. Actually
shook
.

When he finished, all he could do was stare at her. Her caramel skin was flushed and practically glowing. This was what he’d been remembering and fantasizing about for years and he didn’t want to forget any of it.

She sat up on her elbows, the action pushing her breasts up. “Do you need a written invitation?” she asked teasingly.

Hell no
. Once again it was skin on skin as she locked her ankles behind his waist in an unrelenting grip. She dug her heels into his ass as he feathered kisses along her jaw and neck. When he sucked on her earlobe, it was as if she reacted with her entire body. They were so connected he could feel when a slight tremor rolled through her. While he kissed her, he continued lavishing attention on her breasts, flicking and rubbing over her already hard nubs with his fingers. With each flick, she writhed underneath him.

He rubbed his erection against her sex but didn’t penetrate yet. He wanted to draw this out just a little longer. It was the best kind of torture. But when she dug her fingers into his backside and let out a frustrated growl, he knew she was ready. He slipped one finger inside her to test her slickness. She was drenched. Her inner walls clenched around him and her hips rocked against his hand, urging him on.

A low buzz hummed in his ears as a new reality wrapped around him in a hard embrace. She wanted him as bad as he wanted her and was holding nothing back. The realization was frightening to his sense of survival. He was getting too attached. She was making him want things he’d never imagined for himself. Never imagined he deserved.

Stability. A little happiness and just maybe . . . a shot at a normal life.

Banishing those thoughts, he focused all his attention on the here and now. On the beautiful woman underneath him. After withdrawing his finger, he hovered at her entrance for a fraction of a moment. He wanted to remember everything about this moment.

As he rocked into her, Sophie arched her back. Her inner walls were so tight he couldn’t hold back the growl of possession he felt for her. Each time he stroked into her, her fingers tightened against him. In seconds they found their rhythm.

Part of him wondered if the reason she’d wanted to sleep with him was that she needed to remind herself she was alive after the past few days, but he truly didn’t care. He hadn’t felt connected to anyone like this in—ever. And this wasn’t just anyone. Sophie was his. Being with her now brought back so many damn memories. A flood of them hit him all at once.

When she raked her fingers down his back and ordered him to go faster, he nipped at her bottom lip. As he increased his movements, he palmed her breasts, and before he realized she was even close she surged into orgasm. Her inner walls clenched around him with a fierce intensity as the rush of her climax hit.

Just as suddenly, he found his release too. The thought that he’d given her this pleasure was a bigger turn-on than anything she could have physically done to him. He’d always been able to last as long as he needed. He controlled his body. His body didn’t control him. Not tonight. Not with Sophie. She totally owned him.

They both rode out the waves of their release together until he was spent and her legs loosely relaxed their hold on him. Catching himself on his forearms, he slowly withdrew from her and rolled onto his side. Still facing her, he kept a protective hand across her stomach. She looked at him almost in a daze as a satisfied smile played across her lips.

His heartbeat jumped at her sultry expression. Unable to stop himself, he leaned over and kissed her, still wanting to taste every inch of her. He gently feathered kisses over her face before pulling away and discarding the condom.

Words eluded him, but she didn’t seem to want to talk either. Stretching out on his back, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tugged her until she was nestled into the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. Sleeping this close to someone was a foreign experience, but tonight he needed to feel her. Wanted to wake up to Sophie’s face. Hell, he’d sleep inside her if he could.

Eyes only: data that shouldn’t be discussed without explicit permission.

Ronald sat across the dining room table from his wife as they ate in silence. Again. He didn’t know why they even bothered having their meals together anymore. They didn’t talk and when they did, they fought. Rather, she yelled at him.

He cleared his throat. “The casserole is delicious.”

“It was Holly’s favorite,” Margaret snapped before taking a healthy gulp of her martini.

His fork fell onto the plate with a clatter. “Damn it, Margaret, we can’t keep living like this.”

It was as if he’d flipped a switch. She threw her fork down onto the table. “You never should have let her go!”

“How many times are we going to have this same argument?” Pushing away from the table, he stood. He was unwilling to fight back this time. It wouldn’t matter what he said. He couldn’t win. Hell, there was no winner. He just wanted his daughter back.

He took his plate with him into the kitchen and dumped the majority of his food in the trash. As he contemplated whether he’d be making it a scotch or vodka night, the designated cell phone Vargas had instructed him to always have on him buzzed in his pocket.

What little food he had in his stomach roiled. “Hello, Miguel.”

“Where are you?”

He wasn’t sure why the man asked, when Ronald had no doubt he knew. He was sure someone was watching the house. “I’m at home.” He leaned against the kitchen counter and bit back a sigh. They’d been virtual prisoners the past few months, too afraid to go anywhere for fear Miguel would think they were talking to the police or involving outsiders. After receiving that bloody ear in the mail, he was too terrified to even think about it.

“Have you heard from your friend tonight?”

This was going to be tricky, but he’d rehearsed what he’d say. “She called and wanted to set up a meeting, but she never showed.”

“And you haven’t heard from her since?”

“No.”

“What about her assistant? Is she asking questions?”

Ronald silently prayed he could get through this and be convincing. “No, she thinks Sophie is out sick. Just like everyone else in the office.”

“So she hasn’t come to see you about anything lately?”

“What are you talking about? Why do you want to know about everyone in my office all of a sudden?”

Instead of answering, Miguel veered in another direction. “The meeting has been moved to Thursday.”

“I thought you said this weekend.”

Miguel ignored him. “You will be at the hangar at exactly noon—”

“I’m not doing anything else until I speak to my daughter.” Ronald fisted the phone tightly against his ear, trying to calm his shaking hand.

Again, Miguel continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “After you sign the necessary documents—”

Months of repressed anger and worry trumped the rising bile in his throat. “Either I speak to my daughter now or this ends right here. In fact, she better be with you on Thursday or I’m not only
not
giving you what you want, but I’m calling the cops. I’ll turn myself in, Miguel.” He meant it too. He’d rather go to jail than continue living in constant terror with a wife who couldn’t even look at him.

“You might want to think before you speak any further, Mr. Weller. I hold your daughter’s life in my hands.”

“And I have something you want. I have nothing left to lose.” After having a gun shoved in his face and nearly losing someone he cared about, he’d hit his breaking point today. His marriage was all but over if he didn’t get his daughter back. It was sad that it took a stranger to convince him of what he needed to do. He needed to start pushing back.

“Stay close to your phone,” Miguel said, before disconnecting.

“Margaret, get in here,” he called out.

His wife appeared in the entrance but didn’t make any further movements toward him. “What do you want?”

“Hold on.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame, her face a mask of fury.

When the phone buzzed in his hand, he prayed he was doing the right thing. He answered and immediately put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“You have thirty seconds,” Miguel said.

“Daddy?” Holly’s voice came over the line, and sharp tears stung his eyes.

He grasped the phone in his hand as if it were a lifeline. “I’m here, baby. This is almost over, I promise. You’re going to be home soon.”

His wife flew across the room to stand next to him. “Holly? Sweetie, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Mom. It sucks here, but they haven’t hurt me.”

“We’ll be seeing you soon, I promise. One more day and we’ll be together again.”