Formula for Danger, page 6
part #6 of The Phoenix Agency Series
She purred with satisfaction and wriggled her hips suggestively, demanding more.
“Tell me what you want,” he growled in a low voice. “Say it.”
“Fuck me again, Cole. Now. I want you inside me.”
Was she ready for another orgasm so soon? He slid one finger into her opening, smiling as he withdrew it coated with her juices.
“That before,” she said in a breathy voice, “was the appetizer. I want the main course.”
Jesus! How did he hold back from that?
He pushed into her body in slow increments, withdrawing slightly before thrusting forward again. When fully inside her, he drew in a steadying breath. Her hot, slippery flesh clung to his rod like a fist, and he had to reach hard for control.
He treated himself to one more feast of kisses on her buttocks. Then he gripped her hips to steady himself and took them both for a hot ride. In and out he plunged, slow and steady at first, then faster as his climax began to burst through his body. More. Faster. Harder. Sounds of pleasure drifted on the air, and he wasn’t sure if they were his or hers or a combination of both. He could only focus on the luscious woman in his bed and the electricity threatening to burn both of them.
An icy feeling rode the muscles at the base of his spine, and his balls tightened. Soon. Very soon. Reaching around her hip, he slid his fingers to the intense hotness of her sex, found her clit, and rubbed it.
“Ohhhhh.” The long erotic sound coasting from her mouth, excited him even more.
“Now, baby,” he groaned. “Come with me. Right now.”
He ground his teeth, holding back until the first shudders raced through her body and the muscles of her pussy clamped around him like an iron fist. He drove into her once more, twice more, then exploded into the latex sheath as she came and came and came, flooding the tight channel around him.
Breathless, he leaned forward, resting his face on her back, bracketing her with his arms as he braced his hands on the mattress. His heart raced like an overheated stallion’s, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get enough air in his lungs again. He thought he could stay like this forever, enclosed in her heat, bonded with her in so many ways. It stunned him that every single time with this woman was as exciting and intense as the first. No matter how much of her he got, he wanted more. Much more.
And it wasn’t just the sex. To be this good, this intense, there had to be so much more involved. He knew it in his bones. JL said she did, too, and he hoped she meant every bit of it. Whatever was holding her back from a full commitment, he’d find out and take care of it because he didn’t think he could ever let her go.
He had no idea how long they stayed in that position, bodies glued together by the film of perspiration covering them. It finally occurred to him he needed to move from this position, make sure she was comfortable. He knew they would make love again before the night was over, but not if he didn’t stop being such a selfish bastard long enough to take care of her.
He pressed a line of kisses the length of her spine then carefully withdrew from her body. He stroked the sweet curve of her ass, then crawled from the bed. He made sure to remove the pillows before he eased her to her back, rubbing the muscles of her arms and legs and stroking her cheek. Then he made a quick trip to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw a man well satisfied and thought, You are one lucky bastard.
A bath, he thought. She loves this tub, and it relaxes her.
When he came home from the marines, he still had some rehabbing to do in his left leg. The therapist had suggested installing a Jacuzzi. He certainly had the room for it and the bucks to spend on it, so he’d gone all out. He’d first enlarged the bathroom itself. Then he had the contractor build a raised platform with two steps. The finish resembled planked wood, and a ledge surrounded the tub itself. The platform surrounding it was wide enough for towels, drinks, or anything else he wanted to put there. The first time he showed it to JL, she’d squealed like a kid in a toy store. Bathing together had since become one of their favorite activities.
He turned on the taps and tested the water until he was satisfied with the temperature. Pulling two large towels from the linen closet, he stacked them on the wide platform, along with a soft washcloth.
JL lay exactly where he’d left her, limp against the sheets. He took a moment to savor the sight of her, face and body flushed from satisfaction, pink nipples darkened to a dusky rose. Unbelievably, lust stirred through his body again, and he smiled as his cock, so recently used and abused, notified him it might be ready for action again.
“Time to relax,” he told her, lifting her in his arms.
He carried her to the bathroom, walked up the two steps to the tub, and lowered them both inside. Leaning against the back, he placed JL between his legs and pulled her against his chest. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs very lightly brushing the swollen nipples.
She sighed and tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder. “If anything ever happens to us, I get custody of this tub.”
He laughed, hoping she was joking about the “anything happening.” “Nothing’s going to happen, darlin’. I can promise you that.” When she didn’t say anything, he gently squeezed her breasts. “You can take that to the bank.”
“I know. I believe you.”
He hoped.
They were silent while the water continued to rise. When it reached almost to the rim, he turned the taps off with his toe and pushed the button for the jets. The water frothed around them, the surface filled with bubbles, the pressure from the jets tickling their bodies.
JL wiggled her ass to fit herself more tightly to his body, and his independent cock swelled at the contact.
He lowered his hands to her hips to hold her in place. “We’re supposed to be relaxing in here, aren’t we?”
“I’m relaxed,” she teased. “Just, you know, playing a little.”
“If you play at all, you’re liable to stir up trouble.” He leaned his head down and nipped her shoulder right where her neck joined it then took a long, slow swipe with his tongue.
She hummed with pleasure. “I’ll give you about a month to stop doing that.”
He did it again. “Offering a challenge?”
“Maybe.” She pressed her buttocks against him again.
“Darlin’, you’re waking up parts of my body I’m trying to put to sleep for a while.”
“If it’s awake, maybe we ought to take it out to play.”
Before he realized what her intent was, she shifted in his arms, turned around so she faced him on her knees, and reached down between his thighs. The moment her fingers closed over his cock, his entire body reacted, muscles tensing, balls tightening. Her slim fingers wrapped around him and slowly moved up and down the engorged shaft.
Cole closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. The water churning around them had nothing on the roiling of his blood in his veins. She held him with a light grip, fingers sliding up and down in lazy strokes, teasing and tantalizing.
“I thought we’d relax in here,” he hissed.
Her musical laugh was low and soft. “I’m relaxed. Besides, you said I could have my turn, remember?”
He chuffed a laugh. “I thought you already had your turn. Twice, as a matter of fact.”
“And now I get another one, so keep your eyes closed and enjoy.”
Damn. He was certainly doing that.
Her strokes were torturously slow, teasingly soft. He had to curl his own hands into fists to keep himself from placing one over hers to increase the pressure and tempo. Drawing on the self-control he’d taken from the marines, he let his mind drift, giving over to the edge of pleasure, drifting with it. Detaching his brain from his body.
Lust took a slow tour through his body, warming his blood, tickling his nerves. His cock grew thicker in her grasp, the pulse in the vein wrapped around it thumping like a drum. And all the while the jets whipped the water into foam, surrounding them, caressing his skin.
When she reached between his thighs to cup his balls, he knew his control was nearing an end. A waterfall of sensation thundered through him. The beginnings of his climax began to rise up from deep within his body. He slipped one hand beneath the swirling froth to wrap his fingers around her wrist.
“Better stop or it will all be over,” he told her.
She ran her tongue temptingly over her bottom lip, desire bright in her eyes. “That’s the idea.”
Increasing both pressure and speed, she squeezed his balls rhythmically.
“JL. Jesus. Shit! I—”
Inhaling a deep breath, she ducked below the swirling water and took him deep into her mouth as he erupted. As the suction drew every last drop from him, he gripped her head with both hands, drew her away, and lifted her face above the surface.
“Holy shit! Were you trying to drown yourself?”
Her breathing was ragged, but she smiled, a self-satisfied expression on her face. “I forgot to mention I swam on my college team.”
Cole had trouble with his own breathing. He pressed his lips to her wet mouth, running his tongue lightly over the surface before lifting her, turning her around, and pulling her back against his now lax body. As he waited for his heartbeat to settle down, he stroked his hands lazily up and down her arms.
“We’re good together,” he told her. “Really good.”
He waited a difficult heartbeat for her to answer.
Then she settled more comfortably against him. “Yes. You’re right. We are.”
He wanted to push, to get more of a permanent commitment from her, but he knew for the time being he’d have to be satisfied with this. Now he satisfied himself with cuddling her in the swirl of water, knowing he’d have her in his home and in his bed for the weekend would have to be enough.
But sooner or later he’d find out what really held her back. And figure out how to get past it.
Chapter Three
Damon Horner sat behind his massive desk in the chair specially built to fit his oversize personality perfectly. From here, he conducted all the business of Horner International. He was an imposing figure, tall and thickly muscled, with iron-gray hair, icy-blue eyes, and a fuck-you look permanently etched on his face.
The oak gloss of the desk was disturbed only by a stack of files and a picture of his fourth wife, Angelica. Twenty years his junior, she was of all his wives the one who came closest to him in a hunger for ever-increasing success. Smart, savvy, and able to hold her own in any environment, she was also the first of his wives he felt true affection for. And respect. As his staunchest supporter in his continued crusade for more and more acquisitions, she might actually be his secret weapon in his latest stumbling block.
Two walls of his corner office consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows offering him an unobstructed view of downtown San Antonio and many of its famous landmarks. He liked to envision himself as a ruler surveying his domain and certainly owned enough of the real estate to make that almost believable. At sixty-five, he had built a substantial empire. Luck, guts, and a through-and-through mean streak had helped him parlay an unexpected windfall into a multi-million-dollar empire, including a ranch rivaling the famous King Ranch in size and scope.
To those people who questioned his voracious appetite for acquisition, he simply retorted there was no such thing as too much of anything. The problem with leveraging your interests was what happened when that leverage slipped a little. And the past few years had not been kind to his finances. Some investments had lost their value; others had turned into disasters. He needed a winner, and fast.
He had stopped attending Cattlemen’s Association meetings, dismissing them as a waste of his time. He did, however, send his foreman to represent him and to maintain his presence. Thank God for his foresight, or he’d never have known about the vote to hire J. L. Mitchell to develop a formula worth its weight in diamonds.
He leaned back in his chair and toyed with an unlit cigar, his latest stress reliever. His cardiologist might have issued a no-smoking edict, but Horner still loved the smell and feel of the stogie. It helped to calm him and keep him focused on any topic at hand. At the moment, he needed all of its soothing qualities because he was fucking pissed a damn nothing woman was obstructing his latest target for his empire.
Rolling the cigar between his thick fingers, he stared at the man across from him. Leo Guerra, who had been with him for more than twenty years. He had no official title and didn’t appear anywhere on accounting records for any part of the Horner empire. As Damon’s go-to guy, most particularly for all the things that could never see daylight, he had handled many a tricky situation successfully, then disappeared like smoke in the night.
It seemed, however, this one situation wasn’t going to go away so easily. Everything he’d spent his life building teetered precariously on a ledge. He’d taken a very big gamble, and unless he could get something that would guarantee a huge infusion of cash, it would all be ruined.
“So what happened the last time you called her?” he asked.
Guerra shifted in his chair and frowned. “Same shit as always. She has a contract with the fucking Cattlemen’s Association. ‘Thanks but no thanks.’” He shook his head.
Horner placed the unlit cigar in the spotless ashtray and picked up a gold pen. He couldn’t seem to think unless his hands were occupied. “Did you tell her how much we’re offering? What we’re prepared to pay her if she assigns the formula to us? Or comes to work for us directly?”
“Of course.” Guerra uncrossed and recrossed his legs. “But not much luck there. She’s a real pisser, that one.” He snorted. “I like to think I can charm the lookers, but I struck out here. I can’t even get her to agree to a face-to-face meeting.”
Horner scowled. “Not good, Leo.”
“Tell me about it.”
Horner studied the pen for a few moments. “Why not go over to where that lab is? I don’t think she’d throw you out.”
“Tried that. She’s got a guard dog keeping everyone out. When I asked her about it during my next call, she said visitors distract her. She says she’s doing fine the way things are and to stop bothering her. She has work to do. I’m a little curious here. Why didn’t you offer to fund the entire operation to begin with? That way you would have had total control.”
“Not an option,” Horner grunted. “I’m not the most popular person in the Cattlemen’s Association. They’d never have accepted my money. Any overture on my part would have put them on notice right away and made approaching the woman even more difficult.”
“Well, it’s not exactly like we’re having the greatest luck as it is.”
“We have to do this carefully. On the other hand . . .” Horner flipped the pen back and forth between his fingers. “We need to try something else,” he said at last.
“Yeah?” Guerra cocked an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Horner fell silent again for a moment. “It would be a damn shame if anything happened to that lab of hers. She wouldn’t be able to do much work there, now would she?”
“Isn’t that a little drastic?”
“If we can’t buy her, maybe that’s what’s needed.” At least no one else would get rich from it.
“I’d think long and hard before taking that road,” Guerra cautioned. “What’s to say there wouldn’t be a finger pointing directly at you?”
“They’d have to prove it. Besides, I’m sure you’ve been as circumspect as possible while doing your thing. Right?”
“I’m only saying you don’t exactly have a rep for playing nice with others. I’d be the first one the cops came after if that lab suffered damage. You’d be next in line. Besides, we haven’t been at this with her all that long. It’s too soon to be thinking of drastic measures.”
The big man made a rude noise. “I had you contact her as soon as I heard about it. A smart woman like her should have jumped at the opportunity.”
“Maybe she’s not motivated by money,” Guerra suggested. “At least she doesn’t seem to be.”
“Everyone is,” Horner argued. “Or at least by something as valuable. We have to find out what her trigger is. And soon, before every other feed company with any bucks is sniffing after her.”
“Have you checked to see if that’s happening?”
“Working on it. I just don’t want to be too overt and tip my hand.”
“Good. We need to get the full picture here.”
“Agreed, but we still need to move this forward.” Horner pushed himself out of his big chair and walked to the credenza where he had a built-in bar. “She doesn’t live in that lab. If you can’t get a face-to-face meeting with her there, look for other opportunities. She drives back and forth to work. I’m sure she shops someplace. Maybe stops to get a latte or something. Let’s have a little drink, shall we? And see if we can come up with the best way for you to approach her in person.”
Estancia Cervantes stretched as far as one could see—fifty thousand acres of prime Patagonia land extending to the Argentine border with Chile. In the summer pastures, herds of cattle grazed peacefully. Off to the side of the large barn, horses pranced and played in an attached corral defined by a white post fence. The late-afternoon sun cast an amber glow over everything, giving the impression of a fine painting.
The geography of the land was a mixture of high steppes, river valleys, jagged cliffs, and rich grazing meadows. Meadows requiring a lot of attention during the drought years, or the herd of five thousand cattle would dwindle in the blink of an eye.
Anyone seeing the three men sitting on the wide porch of the luxurious ranch house, the heart of the estancia, would know at once they were brothers. All tall, angular, and dark-complexioned with midnight-black hair, different only by the years separating them. At the moment, they were deep in an unpleasant conversation.
