She twisted to look up at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide with question at his terse command. Then her whiskey-colored eyes darkened with understanding and a need of her own. She turned back and loaded, her fingers just as steady as before. The steadiness, he knew, came from years of functioning under stressful situations. He wished he could watch her in action in her own domain, and realized with a jolt that he wouldn’t be able to. Because when this was over, she’d go back. Back to Ohio. Back to the job she wouldn’t leave and the “nice” ex-husband she saw every damn day.
Another pulse of fury bubbled up. He knew his jealousy was totally irrational, but the other… when this was over she would leave. No, she won’t. I won’t let her.
You can’t stop her. But he knew he couldn’t let her slip away. He’d deal with her leaving when the time came. Until then, he had to keep her alive. “Try it yourself.”
She’d improved, but her aim drifted and he brought his arms back around her. She shifted, her butt rubbing hard against his groin, once, then twice, before she settled into him and began squeezing the trigger again. The move had been deliberate and had what blood was left in his head pounding a fast steady beat. Then she was done.
She put the gun on the waist-high counter, slipped off the glasses and the earmuffs, and he did the same. For a moment she stood, regarding the target with an icy stare. There was very little of it left. Three rounds from her H &K had ripped it to shreds.
“I think I killed it,” she said evenly, no hint of amusement in her tone.
“I think you did,” he answered, his voice rough and gravelly.
She turned in his arms and lifted her chin, meeting his eyes with cool challenge. Then she pulled his head down for the hottest kiss he’d ever experienced. In seconds it exploded and they were dueling for control, openmouthed and frantic. His hands covered the butt that had tantalized him, pulling her up and into him, rubbing her up and down his length, trying to get some relief. She tightened her arms around his neck and fought to get closer, lifting one knee to buttress his hip. He ran his hands down her thighs and lifted her, groaning into her mouth when she wrapped her legs around him.
“Stop.” He ripped his mouth from hers, panting. She was panting, too, and the sound made him want to rip her clothes off and drive deep into her, right here, right now. But they stood in Leo Papadopoulos’s target range and Daniel suspected even Leo would have a problem with that. He let her legs slide down his body, trying to get his heart back to a normal rhythm. “I have to clean up your shells before we go.”
“I’ll do that!” Leo called from the front in a singsong voice. “You two can just go home and do… whatever.”
Daniel snorted a laugh. “Thank you, Leo,” he called back dryly.
“Any time, Daniel.”
Daniel put Alex’s gun back in her satchel and took her hand. She hadn’t dropped her gaze since he’d broken the moment and the look in her eyes had his heart racing again. She looked determined. Dangerous. This was going to be really good.
Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 12:50 a.m.
Luckily Leo’s place was not too far from his house. Luckily it was well after midnight and there were few cars on the highway or Daniel would have been tempted to use his lights for personal reasons for the first time ever.
She’d said nothing the entire way home and every minute of silence took the heat higher and higher until Daniel thought he’d lose it like a teenager before he ever got her clothes off. By the time he pulled into his driveway, he was shaking. But if there was any justice in the world, so was she. He grabbed her satchel and hauled her to his front door, his hand trembling as he tried to get the key in the lock. He missed twice before she hissed, “For God’s sake, hurry, Daniel.”
He got the door opened and yanked her inside. Her arms were around his neck and her mouth was kissing him before he got the front door shut. Blindly he closed it, locked it, threw the deadbolt. “Wait. The alarm. I have to set it.”
She withdrew and he turned to the alarm panel. When he looked back, his mouth went dry. Those nimble fingers of hers had made short work of the buttons on her blouse and she was pulling it from her slacks with impatient jerks. Her eyes narrowed.
“Hurry” was all she said.
The single word was like a cracked whip. Roughly he backed her against the door, taking her mouth with desperate ferocity as he pulled her jacket and blouse off her shoulders. Her fingers were quicker and she had his shirt unbuttoned before he could manage the hooks on her bra. Finally he twisted and ripped and her breasts were free and he filled his hands with them, plucking at her nipples, already pebbled hard.
“Alex.” He tried to step back but she was pushing her slacks and panties over her hips and kicking them away, all while her mouth ate at his. “Come to bed.”
“No, do it here.” She stood before him, nude and perfect. “Do it like you wanted to back there.” Then she gave him no choice when she threw her arms around his neck and launched herself high, twining her legs around his waist. “Do it now.”
His pulse rocketed through the top of his head and he yanked at his belt. His knuckles caressing her hot, incredibly wet warmth as he pulled and twisted, making her moan. He dropped his pants, pushed her against the door, and thrust as hard as he could. Finally all that wet warmth was surrounding him, pulling him deeper, driving him insane.
She cried out, but there was no pain in her eyes, only heat and need and want and he knew he needed to see those eyes glaze over in mindless satisfaction.
“Keep your eyes open,” he muttered and she nodded once, hard. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and his dug into her hips and held on as he pounded into her, giving free rein to the beast that roared inside his head. He pounded until he couldn’t remember anything about the day, until all the fear was gone from her eyes, leaving only dazed passion. Her body arched and she cried out again as she came, gripping him, dragging him with her.
He plunged a final time, and the pleasure was like a brick to his head. He slumped against her, pressing her into the door. His lungs pumped as he gasped for air, certain that if he died right then and there, he could want no more. Then he pulled back to see her face, and knew he had to have her again. And again. She was panting, but her mouth curved. And she looked… proud. Incredibly satisfied, but proud, just the same.
“That was really, really good,” she said.
He laughed, then wheezed in another breath. “I think three reallys would about kill me, but I’m willing to risk it if you are.”
“I’m living life on the edge lately. I say we go for it.”
Thursday, February 1, 1:30 a.m.
Someone was crying again. Bailey could hear the plaintive wail through the walls. A door opened down the hall, followed by a hollow thud, then silence. It happened about two or three times every night.
Then her door flew open, bouncing back against the concrete wall. He came in and grabbed her by the blouse that was now tattered and rank. “You lied to me, Bailey.”
“Wh-?” She cried out when the back of his hand connected with her cheek.
“You lied to me. Alex’s key is not in her house.” He shook her, hard. “Where is it?”
Bailey stared at him, unable to speak. She’d told Alex to hide the key. She had no idea where it could be. “I… don’t know.”
“Then let’s see if we can make your brain work a little better.” He yanked, dragging her from the room, and she tried to make her mind shut down. Tried to keep herself from saying anything more. Tried to keep herself from praying to die.
Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 2:10 a.m.
Alex’s body was sore in all the right places. She rolled her head on the pillow to look at him, the only movement she could muster. Daniel lay on his back as, openmouthed, he struggled to fill his lungs.