Shadow Pawn, page 10
When she leaned down and wrapped her lips around his length, it drove a muttered curse from him.
When she moved down over his shaft, taking him deep into her throat, he knew she had been right. He wasn’t exactly on alert listening for visitors—friendly or other.
This was dangerous in more ways than one.
He was lost in her. Mind and body.
Dammit. Fucking her was one thing. Falling for her was quite another.
When she crawled up his body, straddled him, sunk down over his cock and rode him like a wet dream, he knew for certain. He was getting attached to the one woman he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.
And what the hell was he going to do about that?
A week ago, he hadn’t even known who she was. Hell, he still didn’t completely. But he knew without a doubt that Angela Lewis was going to be a hard woman to forget.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She’d dozed off.
What time was it anyway? Without a cell phone or a watch, she couldn’t tell.
It was dark out but that was all she knew.
She needed to get back into her email account on the TV’s browser and see if Faith had replied. It had to be hours since she’d sent it.
What time would it be on the East Coast? During business hours?
If so there was a good chance Faith had already seen Lou. He might have questions or instructions for her.
Next to her on the narrow mattress, Adam breathed with deep steady breaths.
Slowly, she pushed the sheet aside so she could slip out of bed without waking him.
That plan was foiled when one thick, muscular thigh landed on top of her. In a move worthy of a pro-wrestler, he reeled her in toward him.
Pressed against his warm body, she felt his hard length clearly. No doubt about it. He was awake. And ready.
She opened her mouth to explain that she needed to get up.
He didn’t even know she’d sent the email. There hadn’t been much talking since he’d come back. He was going to be mad she’d sent it. She’d need time to explain that it was safe. That she’d taken precautions by not using an email address that would be monitored. That she’d sent it to a person not on the bad guys’ radar.
She didn’t have time to explain any of that. Or say anything at all.
“Nuh, uh. Get back here,” he said as he lifted her thigh and slid inside her with one firm push, driving a breath from her lungs.
His low groan of appreciation once he was fully seated vibrated through her back.
He set a lazy, slow pace, stroking in and out, stoking the fire that had barely had time to cool since their last round before they’d both fallen to sleep.
Adam snaked one hand around and slipped a fingertip between her lower lips, connecting with her core and driving a moan from her throat.
He muttered a growl-tinged obscenity in response and picked up the pace as he thrust into her from behind.
She felt the climax building slowly. She was torn between tipping her hips forward, toward his hand that was working her into a frenzy, or back, as she wanted him deeper inside her.
Lifting her thigh, he looped it over his hip as he angled his body and managed to give her all she wanted. He hit new depths inside, plunging deep, as he worked her faster with his hand.
Throwing her head back, she couldn’t quell her loud reaction as she fell over the edge of pleasure.
Adam’s strokes matched her cries. She heard him breathing hard and fast behind her before he yanked out, when she wasn’t nearly ready for him to leave yet.
She understood why, of course. Condoms were the one thing he hadn’t come prepared with to rescue her. But it didn’t make it any less frustrating as her inner walls clenched against the void he’d left.
His grunts matched the spurts of his release. But then he was back again, lifting her thigh higher and sliding back inside with a groan.
“Again?” she asked.
“Mm-hm,” he groaned.
She smiled. She wasn’t complaining that he was back for another round. Especially when he latched his mouth onto her neck and sucked at the same time he bottomed out inside her, balls deep. The combination coaxed another moan from her.
It seemed Adam was proving himself to be very inventive, in all things that mattered most to her at the moment. Security. Sex.
She’d enjoy a bit more of the latter. Then they would have to get back to the former. They needed to take care of other things. Namely getting her out of this damn country and back home.
But not just yet.
Adam flipped her onto her belly, raised her ass high and groaned deep as he thrust inside.
His repeated strokes hit a place that had her tingling and drove a nearly feral sound from her throat.
A few more minutes delay wouldn’t matter…
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Ow.”
Adam sat bolt upright in the bed at the sound of Angela’s exclamation. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Relax. I’m just sore.”
He tried not to smile at that but couldn’t help it. “Sorry.”
She leaned out of the bathroom, saw his satisfied grin and narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look sorry.”
He wiped a hand over his mouth and attempted one more time to not look happy.
“I am. Where are you sore? Want me to rub it?” he offered, being a smart-ass.
She lifted a brow. “Your rubbing it is what made it sore to begin with.”
His smile was back and this time he didn’t bother trying to hide it.
Angela shook her head. He’d jumped in the shower first and then remade the bed with the clean sheets he’d found while she’d showered.
They were clean and fresh, along with the bed, which made the desire to dirty both her and the sheets again nearly irresistible. Except for the fact that she was sore.
Although, he could think of many other tantalizing places he could play with.
He drew in a breath and let reality sink in. He needed to prepare. When Charley’s man, or team—or hell, woman—came to retrieve Angela, he needed to be ready.
“All right. No more rubbing. For now,” he promised and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, his bare feet hitting the floor.
Pulling on his clothes, he watched Angela as she did the same, grateful the temptation of her naked body at least would be removed. Of course, he still had the memories.
She watched him as well. Watched as he slid the knives into the sheaths in his boots. As he snapped the pistol into the holster at the base of his back and covered it with his shirt. And as he filled his cargo pants pockets with extra clips loaded with ammo.
He waited for a comment. A question. Something. He didn’t get it. Instead she slid the taser into the pocket of her pants.
His woman was tough and practical. Given that, they both might get out of this thing unscathed.
He realized what he’d just thought. His woman. Who he should not, no way, no how, have slept with. Who he probably wouldn’t see again after this was over and she went back to her real life and put everything connected to this nightmare behind her. Including him.
Perhaps unscathed was the wrong word. He definitely wasn’t going to come out of this the same way he came in.
What the fuck had happened to him? He used to be able to have fun and move on.
Was this just middle age catching up with him? Or humility, maybe. His ousting from the team had definitely left cracks in his armor that would never close.
Angela had slipped into one of those cracks and touched his heart. And fuck, that was the one place he hadn’t wanted her to touch.
Dressed and ready, right down to her shoes, she said, “Hungry? There’s some pretty decent food here.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Food was the last thing on his mind as he leaned down to grab the bag Garrett had given him, but he’d learned to eat when he could.
“There’s also something we need to talk about. And something I need to do.”
He glanced up as she strode out of the bedroom, leaving him behind with too many questions.
While gripping the handles of both bags, he followed her out. “What do you need to do? And what do we need to talk about?”
She already had one cabinet in the kitchen open and was perusing the offerings inside by the time he joined her there.
With her hands full of what looked like instant noodle soup, she turned back to face him. Setting the items down, she said, “I did something right before you got back here.”
He frowned. “What did you do?”
What could she do? He’d left her here with nothing but a taser and some cash. Had she gone out? Talked to someone?
“You’re not going to be happy, but just hear me out first,” she began.
Now he really started to worry.
“What did you do?” he repeated, his tone low.
Without waiting for an answer, he opened the bag and started taking out pieces of the weapon.
After her gaze dropped to the parts of the rifle, she raised her eyes and said, “I emailed somebody.”
He paused in the weapon assembly. “How?”
“The smart TV has a built-in browser.”
“Fuck.”
He could assemble a sniper rifle in record time while in the teams.
That was a good skill to have now as his heart rate sped at her confession.
He slapped pieces of the weapon together. Danger could be right outside the door and he intended to be ready when it knocked.
“We have to get out of here. Throw some of that food in there.” He slung his backpack onto the counter. It landed with a thud.
“No. Adam, it’s okay. Just listen—”
When she was talking instead of moving, he took over, choosing food they could eat cold and on the run if need be.
“I used an old email address of mine—” She was still talking but he wasn’t listening.
He slid the zipper shut, grabbed both bags and the rifle and turned toward her. “Let’s go.”
She planted a fist on both hips. “Not until you listen to me.”
Jaw set, he drew in a breath, knowing every second could cost them her freedom, if not their lives. “Come with me now and I’ll listen to you later.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, still not giving in.
“Not far. I promise.” He’d done some recon for a bit before he’d knocked on her door.
As of a few hours ago, the house two doors down was unoccupied. They could break in and hide there for now. It would give him a vantage point to watch the safe house and see who came looking for them.
Moving them there was something he should have done even before she dropped that bomb about the email. If he hadn’t been so occupied…
“Angela,” he said sharply when she still looked undecided. Damn, she was stubborn. “You have to trust me. Please.”
Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”
Thank God. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back of the house.
“Where are we going?”
“Back door in case someone’s watching the front.”
The back opened up onto a courtyard garden. The wall would provide coverage—in a shootout or from prying eyes.
They could slip along the wall of the house next door and enter the vacant rental through the back as well, where no one would see him picking the lock.
This unit hadn’t been alarmed or hooked to any camera system. As far as he could tell, none of them were. And he’d checked, well, just in case Charley had arranged for surveillance.
Luck was on his side with the layout of this complex. If only Angela would cooperate…
After a few long moments of looking annoyed and doubting him, she stopped arguing and followed his lead. Ducking when he ducked. Staying silent as they skirted along the wall of the neighboring house. Even looking moderately impressed as he took the lock pick set from his bag and got the door open in record time, considering the conditions he was working under.
Once inside, she reached for the light switch. He slapped his hand over hers and whispered, “No.”
He leaned close and pressed his mouth against her ear. “Let me make sure it’s empty. Stay here by the door. Anything happens you run and hide behind the house next door. I’ll find you there.”
He heard her intake of breath before feeling her nod in the dark.
It wasn’t pitch black. The blinds had been left open in the living room. Moonlight provided the tiniest glow. That, and the fact this house was an exact duplicate of the one they’d just left, helped him find his way to the bedroom.
He stopped in the doorway of the first one, held his breath and listened.
No sounds of breathing. He flipped on his penlight, careful to shine it just on the bed so it wouldn’t be seen through the windows from outside.
Empty.
He moved to the next bedroom and repeated the procedure with the same results.
So far, so good. Maybe Angela’s sudden need to email someone wouldn’t cost them everything.
Waiting in the house down the block for whoever was coming for her was a good plan. It offered an added level of safety they needed given he didn’t know or trust Charley or her organization.
And while he waited, he might as well set up.
He squatted down and eyed the level of the kitchen island.
It was situated so that it provided the perfect line of sight out the living room’s front windows to the street. He could see the front walkway of the house they’d just left. If anyone came through the front door, he’d be able to watch them, without them seeing him.
Flipping down the legs of the tripod, he planted the sniper rifle, generously equipped with a suppressor and scope thanks to Garrett, on the counter.
Leaning down, he peered through the scope.
Movement had him glancing up. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light so he had no problem seeing Angela in the darkness.
He’d forgotten to tell her the coast was clear. But she’d neglected to stay by the door as he’d asked so he guessed they were even.
“Sorry. We can’t turn on the lights,” he apologized. “We’re kind of breaking and entering.”
No kind of about it. That was exactly what they were doing. In South Korea where he’d rather not have the experience of seeing the inside of the local jail.
“I understand.”
Did she? She obviously didn’t understand when he’d stressed how the phones and emails of everyone she knew likely were being monitored.
While he was thinking of it, they might as well get this conversation out of the way.
He moved a chair over and made himself comfortable before pressing one eye to the scope. It might be a long night. Once he was settled, he said, “Want to tell me who you emailed? And why?”
She drew in a breath but never got around to telling him.
Probably because of the obscenity he bit out when he saw two men pull up in a dark car and park in front of the house in which they were hiding.
“Get behind me. Down flat on the floor,” he ordered.
If the bullets started to fly, he didn’t want her caught in the crossfire.
“What’s happening?” she whispered. Her voice held a tinge of panic as she moved behind him.
“We have company.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Who is it?” she asked Adam.
“Not sure. Could be your rescue team. Or it could be your kidnappers.”
Angela’s pulse pounded so loudly in her ears, she could barely hear Adam’s answer.
“But I can tell you one thing,” he continued. “They’re definitely here for you. They parked right out front and they’re walking directly toward the safe house. This time of night, I’m betting they’re not housekeeping there to check if you need more towels.”
They’re definitely here for you. She felt ill after hearing that sentence.
With the tips of her fingers, she traced the outline of the taser in her pocket, making sure that her one defense was still there.
Her one defense besides Adam.
He was in full warrior mode now as he manned the weapon he’d assembled and set up in the kitchen.
The gun sported all sorts of impressive attachments from what she could see in the dark. And he looked like he knew how to use them. Good. Because she did not.
“Shit. They’re at the door of the other house now. And any second, they’re going to figure out you’re not in there.” Adam, eye still pressed to the scope, lifted one hand to her. “Can you find the cell phone in my duffel bag?”
She scrambled across the floor toward the bag. “Who are you going to call?”
“The woman who hired me to save you. I need to know if these guys are hers or not.”
Her fingers hit on the hard outline of the phone inside the bag. “I found it.”
“There’s a SIM card taped to the back. Slide that into the slot and then power it on. I hadn’t wanted to do that while I was here—she’ll be able to track where I am—but we don’t have any choice.”
Shaking, she felt along the edge of the phone, looking for the slot. The job was nearly impossible in the dark where she sat on the floor. “I can’t see.”
“Take this but do not shine it anywhere except down at the floor. That’d be like a flashing neon sign telling them we’re here.” Blindly, he held the penlight out toward her while still leaning over the weapon.
With the help of the little flashlight, which she kept so low after his warning that she ended up flat on her belly on the floor as she operated on the cell, she got the SIM card in correctly.
She pressed and held the power button.
The cell came to life. She hissed in air between her teeth when the screen seemed to light up her corner of the kitchen as bright as day. She flipped it face down on the floor.
“It’s on. Now what?”
“There’s one number in the contact list. Hit to dial that and then hand me the phone.”
Shielding the brightness with her body as she hunched over the cell, she found the contact and tapped the screen to make the call.
