The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers Book 2), page 19
“That won’t be necessary,” Laila said, her shoulders straightening. “I know the passcode.”
Mason raised a brow, and she reddened. “I thought he might be cheating. I decided I couldn’t move out without proof, so I paid attention long enough to memorize it. But I never worked up the courage to actually look.”
Rosamie threw her arm around Laila, surreptitiously checking her watch. “We’re going to return it after we check it.”
Mason scowled. “You are not going back.”
“But we have to,” Laila protested. “Before he wakes up…”
Mason closed his eyes as a wash of red swamped his vision. There was a long beat of silence. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low. “Are you telling me that Joseph is home right now?”
Laila bit her lip, but both women stayed resolutely silent.
Ransom cleared his throat to break the tension. “All right, what’s done is done—let’s make the most of it.”
He plucked the phone out of Laila’s hand. “As for this, having the code is good. What would be better would be to clone everything on it. And we happen to know someone who can do that.”
Mason frowned. “Who?”
Ransom smirked. “You know who I mean—you vetted all the recruits.”
Realization dawned, but his expression didn’t lighten. “We hardly know Toya.”
The woman in question, Toya Almari, had a strong background in intelligence in addition to being an experienced special-ops agent. Ian and Elias had considered it a coup when they’d convinced her to sign on with Auric. Mason had trained her along with the other newbies, but their relationship was distant. He wasn’t her boss since she was destined for another team.
They definitely weren’t on friendly enough terms for Mason to ask her to break the law.
“How do we know she would be willing?” he asked, acknowledging the woman had the requisite skills.
Ransom, however, was certain that she would help. “I’ve talked to her. Trust me. She’ll do it.”
And to Mason’s surprise, she did. What shouldn’t have surprised him was Laila and Rosamie’s fascination with the former special-ops agent.
It took less than a half an hour for Toya to come down and meet them, a black bag full of gear at her side.
When Ransom tried to explain why they needed the phone’s information, she’d held up a hand. “This one said a girl died and this phone might shed light. That’s all I need to know.”
“We also have to return the phone. The owner is passed out at the moment, but that might not last long,” Laila said before Rosamie began to pepper Toya with questions on what she was doing.
Toya patiently answered most. She copied the phone’s data to her computer and held on to it, promising to send it a report of any relevant information after she had decrypted and cleaned it up, separating user data from the phone’s operating system. “Don’t worry about putting the phone back. I’ll do that.”
Mason frowned. “Copying it is more than enough. You should let me return it.”
“No, I should,” Laila said. “It’ll be simple with the key. I can just toss it back on the couch or inside the door.”
“No.” Both Mason and Ransom said it at the same time.
“Which is why I will do it,” Toya said, suppressing a laugh as she held up the phone. “No offense, but you two are way too conspicuous. And you ladies are familiar faces as well from what I’ve gathered. But I have some experience in this sort of thing.”
“But—”
“Trust me,” she said, putting a hand on Laila’s arm. “I know how to blend.”
Mason put out his hand. “I owe you one.”
“I know,” Toya said, the corners of her lip lifting. “And I will collect,” she added, shaking on it.
Laila threw her arms around Toya. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, darlin’,” Toya said, patting her back and squeezing her. “I hope it helps.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Do you think Toya would come drinking with us?” Rosamie poked her head between the seats. Mason gripped the steering wheel of the Mustang, the cords in his neck standing out in stark relief.
Laila bit her lip, willing her best friend to shut her mouth.
“Isn’t it a little soon for you to be planning a girl’s night out?” Ransom observed from the backseat. “You know…under the circumstances.”
“Jasmine’s boyfriend has planned a pub crawl for her memorial—all her favorite places.” Rosamie shrugged, trying to make herself smaller as Mason twisted to frown at her. “You never met her, or you’d realize how much she would have liked that.”
Mason grunted noncommittally. His hands were still tight on the wheel, but at least it no longer appeared as if tendons in his neck were going to burst.
Rosamie was about to say something else, but Laila twisted and shook her head in warning.
She said nothing as he drove them all to Ransom’s place, promising to let them know the minute Toya sent them the report in a halfway civil tone. She thought it promising, considering how angry he was, but once they had dropped off the others, he continued to drive in stony silence.
It stretched and stretched, making her skin feel tight.
“How did you figure out what we were up to?” she asked, desperate to break the tension stifling the air.
“Ransom called me because one of his tasers was missing,” he said, jaw tight. “No one but Rosamie has been in his place. When you didn’t pick up your cell, we put two and two together. I canceled today’s practice session, then drove like a bat out of hell to get here. Ransom met me out front. No one was at the desk, so we just went in—past a disabled security camera.”
“You noticed that, huh?”
His lips pursed. “I’m not about to compliment you for taking precautions when what you did was flat-out insane. What would have happened if Joseph woke up? He might still realize you were the one who came by and swiped the phone. You could be arrested.”
“With the hangover he’s sure to have, he’ll think he lost it himself. Plus, I took back up,” she protested weakly. “Also, I did have the key.”
That and the person who had given her that key had still been texting her as of yesterday, begging to see her.
“Then you should have given it to me.”
“You going in would have ended much worse, and you know it,” she argued. “If you’d seen Joseph in the flesh, you would have dragged him out of bed and beat the crap out of him,” she said, finally snapping. “Go on and tell me I’m wrong.”
Mason’s mouth firmed, his profile tightening until it was almost ascetic in its severity. But he didn’t argue with her, not until several miles had passed.
When he turned to her, his light blue eyes were luminous, as if lit from a fire within. “If you ever put yourself at risk like that again, I will put you over my knee.”
Laila scrunched down into the seat. “Now, you’re stealing Ransom’s lines.”
Mason exhaled very loudly and deliberately. “Laila, don’t test me.”
Deciding silence was the better part of valor, Laila stopped trying to defend herself. Mason was too worked up. That and it was hard to truly argue with him—not because she was afraid of upsetting him, but because part of her still couldn’t believe she’d done what she had.
Laila wasn’t stupid. She was aware she had taken a big risk. But she also knew she had the best chance of finding out whether Joseph had anything to do with Jasmine’s death. She was the only one with access.
The rest of the drive passed in silence. Laila alternated between telling herself she did the right thing and panicking the police were going to be waiting at Mason’s with handcuffs.
His phone buzzed. He picked it up, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. After glancing at it, he handed it to her. There was a text from an unknown number.
Item copied and returned.
Instructions to download the file to follow.
This message will self-destruct.
JK. Delete this if you know what’s good for you.
Sighing with relief, Laila hugged the phone to her, deleting the message as instructed. A few minutes later, Mason pulled into his driveway.
Laila hurried inside, intent on getting to her room before he could start another argument. She made it to the bedroom door when Mason grabbed her and spun her around. His arms wrapped around her, his mouth covering hers before she could think.
It had taken one touch for his anger at Laila to transform into desire. All he’d meant to do was stop her from running and hiding in her room, but the second his hand touched the bare skin on her arm, he clutched her to his chest and kissed her—hard.
Too hard.
He broke the kiss, pulling his head back. “Your lip—”
“Is fine,” Laila said, reaching up to pull his head back down. Her mouth covered his, her small tongue breaching the seam of his lips.
Her taste, both exotic and sweetly familiar, filled his mouth, making his pulse pound and igniting a sharp hunger for more.
Something that felt like relief swept over him. Laila was here, and she was warm and willing in his arms. Mason could indulge as much as he wanted.
A little whimper escaped Laila. He stopped, inhaling deeply because it wasn’t a protest. It was a sound that spoke of a need almost as strong as his own.
Overcome, he started to strip her. His hands were rough, but she didn’t object. Laila was too busy trying to tug off his shirt. Helping her, he yanked it up, tossing it away before stopping to pull down her black jeans. They landed next to his shirt.
She was down to her bra and panties when his patience ended. He gathered her up. Laila instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. A few steps forward let him pin her against the wall, his mouth devouring hers.
Laila was so petite it was easy to lift her high, her lace-clad breasts level with his mouth. He tasted her through the cups, wetting the material with his tongue and tugging with his teeth until her nipple was poking stiffly through it. Shuddering in response, Laila’s nails raked his back, digging in with just the right amount of pressure.
He used his teeth to pull the bra cup down, his mouth settling on the exposed caramel skin before taking the chocolate tip into his mouth. Laving it with his tongue, he shifted to support her with one hand, so the other was free to stroke. He ran his palm up and down her thigh before shifting her panties aside, working his fingers between them to touch her heated folds.
“Mason,” she gasped, her hands scrabbling down to try to reach his zipper.
“Wait.” If she did what he thought she was going to do, this would be over too fast. He’d been waiting too long.
Setting her down, he pressed her shoulders against the wall before bending. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed, following them down. Kneeling in front of her, he pushed her legs apart, wasting no time. His mouth settled on her heat, licking and closing his lips over her clit.
Laila jerked, crying out. She might have fallen if the wall wasn’t supporting most of her weight. Pinning her legs open with the bulk of his body, he held her straining and shivering body while his mouth worked, tongue and lips and teeth moving obsessively…gluttonously.
Salt and sugar in one.
The months of abstinence came rushing back. He broke, giving in to the need. Mason had gone without because only this woman would do. Then Laila was crying his name, urging him up. Tearing at his jeans, he pulled out his already-throbbing erection.
“Please.”
Laila didn’t have to ask twice. Picking her up again, he urged her legs back around his waist as he thrust home.
Tight velvet wrapped around his cock, an agony so sharp and sweet a cry escaped him, too.
Mason flexed, withdrawing and pushing back in with a groan, repeating the sweet torture until he’d set a steady and demanding rhythm. Pulse pounding in time with his thrusts, he let instinct take over, letting loose the reins of his hunger the way he’d only ever been able to with her.
Laila urged him on with whispers and hushed moans that seemed to directly tap into that primitive part of his brain, the one that wanted to consume and possess every inch of her.
So that was what he did. That painful period of want and loss was over. His sweet sugar was here, melting all around him. He was taking her back, making her his, with each hard thrust.
Mason wanted to last, but each deep, penetrating stroke brought him closer to the edge. He fought to hold on a little longer, but pleasure this intense wasn’t mean to last—his heart might give out. Then Laila shuddered, her entire body clamping down on his shaft with a keening wail she couldn’t stifle.
His rhythm stuttered and broke. Losing control, he pistoned in and out, grinding against Laila as his cock throbbed, pulsing. Hot seed jetted as his orgasm tore through him. Pinned to the wall, Laila took all of him, her arms pulling him in tight.
Enervated, Mason leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the wall above Laila’s silky shoulder. Suddenly, it didn’t matter how much he worked out or how fit he was. He was buried in Laila, and he couldn’t catch his breath.
She still panted too, little shivers coursing through her body. Her channel pulsed around him. Although he was spent, he could already feel his hunger stirring again. With Laila, it was never too far.
Peeling them off the wall, he lifted Laila, working her up and down on his cock, which was already hardening in her warmth.
Gasping, Laila twisted to look at him. “Again?”
“Again,” he told her before lowering his mouth for another soul-devouring kiss.
They had a lot of time to make up for.
Chapter Thirty
It took three more lovemaking sessions to blunt the edge of his hunger long enough for him to let go of Laila. Arms shaking slightly in the aftermath of his last explosive climax, he collapsed next to her on his bed, having carried her in there somewhere between rounds three and four.
Round two had been on the floor just in front of his bedroom door. That was after walking through the ground floor of the house, lifting Laila up and down on his shaft so they could leave their mark on every room. She was so much smaller than him, so it was an easy task at first—up until he’d burned through all his strength and stamina in the most pleasurable way possible.
Still short-winded, he pulled an equally spent Laila across the mattress into his arms, spooning her until her breathing slowed.
He kissed the back of her neck. “I missed you.”
Laila twisted around to face him. “I missed you, too.”
Pressing his lips to her forehead, he lapsed into silence, letting his fingers trail over the soft skin of her back, enjoying the feel of her hands touching him. Lazily content, he smiled when she pressed her lips to his chest.
“I like that you’re so big,” she said between kisses. “You make me feel small.”
“You are small.” He laughed, but it faded fast.
Noting the change in his expression, Laila frowned. “Did you hear your phone? Is it the file?’
“Um, no, it’s not that.” He’d left the phone with his pants. They were somewhere on the floor of the living room, or was it the hall?
Mason reached out to cup her cheek. “I just realized we—I— didn’t use anything. I’m so sorry, Laila. You know I’ll always protect you. I got carried away.”
She reached out to rest a hand over his heart. “Don’t be sorry. If I get pregnant, we’ll get married. Once we have one baby, we should start on two and three. I want at least three kids.”
“Okay, great,” Mason put an arm behind his head with exaggerated casualness.
Laila burst out laughing. “Okay? Just okay? I was kidding.”
“I know you were, but I like the sound of three babies with you. I was thinking more along the lines of two, but we could just as easily have four.”
“Hey, I said three.”
Grinning, he shook his head. “Even numbers are better. That way, we can avoid middle child syndrome.”
Laila bit her lip, shaking her head. “It’s not going to be an issue—at least not just yet. I’m on the pill. I, uh, started a few months ago.”
“Oh.” She took the pills for Dubey.
She winced, hesitating.
He touched her arm. “It’s okay. Tell me.”
“Well, um, Joe wanted me to start. He wouldn’t let up until I made an appointment to get some with University Health Services.” Laila’s lips pulled down. “ But you should know that even though I caved and started taking the pills, I never trusted him enough to rely on them. I always made sure he used other protection.”
She broke off and pulled a pillow over her head, so her next words were muffled. “God, I hate this. I never wanted to bring him up again. Not here—not in this context.”
Mason pulled the pillow off. “It’s normal to discuss sexual history. In case you were wondering, mine is all clear.”
“Well, your doctor said I have a clean bill of health. They ran tests when you took me to see them, and they sent me the results already.”
He pulled her back to him until she was pressed flush to his chest. “Then we have nothing to worry about, right? Well, except for agreeing on the number of kids we’ll eventually have.”
Laila took a long look at him, then she reached out and pinched him.
“Ow,” he said, laughing. “What was that for?”
“You can’t be real. Mason, you are too good to be true.”
Warmed heart and soul, Mason pressed another kiss to her forehead and decided to keep going down the line of her neck. “I hope you still feel that way after we’ve been married a few decades,” he said between long sipping kisses.
Cuddling close to rest her head on his chest, she murmured, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
Mason picked up the phone without checking the caller ID. “Yeah?” he asked, stirring his sauce so it wouldn’t stick.
