Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2) (6 page)

“Yes,” Luis snapped. He glanced around, scanning the beach.

“Good. This one? The blonde? She’s very
importante
. Remember her before the others.” Dylan slid an envelope over the bar.

It wasn’t money. This guy got paid by Cruz the same way as everyone else. No, the drugs were Dylan’s own cocktail, designed to hit slow and last long. With any luck the girls would never know something was wrong until they woke up tomorrow morning, safely in custody. Cruz hated it when the merchandize got bruised in transit.

Luis nodded and pocketed the envelope without further comment. He knew the drill.

Dylan slid his sunglasses low on his face and strode back toward the side entrance. He couldn’t hang around to enjoy the show. Hannah was too sharp to not notice him, and there weren’t enough guests to get lost in the crowd. He’d have to go back to his hotel and wait for the appointed pick-up time later.

He jammed his feet back in his flip-flops and tabbed through the notifications on his phone. At the rate his business was picking up, he’d have a couple more
special deliveries
for Cruz in the next four weeks. It was about time something started going right for him.

“Hey—watch where you’re going.” Dylan skidded to a stop, barely missing some dude in all black. He blinked at the guys face. “Rogelio. What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t fuck up.” Rogelio’s smile carried no warmth.

“Fuck you.” Dylan glared back.

Shit.

Had Cruz sent Rogelio to keep an eye on him? To make sure the girls were picked up without incident? He’d made one fuck up with Hannah and now the boss was sending his watchdog after him.

God damn it.

His pits started to sweat in a whole new way.

“Make sure your man does his job and there won’t be any screw-ups this time.” Dylan shouldered past the larger man. His better instincts said to run, and run now, but he couldn’t run from a predator like Rogelio. It would only draw his attention, and Dylan was nothing if not a survivor.

Hannah swiveled her hips, eyes closed, letting the rhythm speak to her. Mason’s presence, stomping after her through the sand at least kept the random butt-humpers from encroaching on her space. She was ready to start this vacation for real, and if Mason was going to continue to be a black rain cloud, well, that was his problem, not hers. She wanted to dance. Enjoy the time they had together, however short it might be. Whatever his hang-up was when it came to a short fling, that was on him. He’d have to get over it soon, or else they’d be on a plane home before they even got started. If they’d go down that road at all. It might not be worth it to him, and while that stung, she also understood.

She turned and felt his body heat. Her body swayed toward him, a magnet drawn to its opposite. Slanting her gaze up at him, she draped an arm over his shoulder. He stared down at her, completely unmoved. Had she imagined earlier? Because right now he seemed a whole lot more interested in glaring at her.

For once she’d like to seriously know if she affected him like he did her. How when she was close to him, her body was too hot, she tingled and wanted something she’d never had before. With him. It was always him, damn it.

“Dance with me?” she asked.

His brows drew down and she could already hear the “no” on his lips.

Hannah pushed away from him, the rejection stinging. Again. Always again. Always her. He wanted her, but he wouldn’t act on it. Not even after the moment upstairs or in her bedroom. He’d gone cold on her all over again.

Mason caught her hand and reeled her back against his chest, his front to her back. He clenched her hip with one hand, each finger a branding iron. She felt the heat of him all the way to her core. A breath stuttered out of her lungs, only to get caught in her throat.

Hope was a fragile thing. All she’d hoped for were stolen moments with him. No commitment. Nothing that would put him at danger. Just a kiss. A night. Something she could hold onto when she was alone.

He brought their clasped hands up to rest against her stomach and pressed them closer together. The puff of warm breath against her neck, the slight scrape of his stubble over her sensitive skin had her shivering despite the tropical temperatures. He slowly rocked from side to side, catching the beat of the music.

They couldn’t be together. She got that. But wasn’t the point of a vacation, of going to Mexico, to get away from everything? There was no one here that knew them. No one to report back to her dad. They could have this. One long weekend. She wanted that fantasy to be real, if just for a few days. After that, she’d never ask for more.

She turned in his hold, needing to see him. They were so close she could feel the hard ridges of muscle down his chest, the flex of those muscles as their bodies swayed in time together, weaving a spell of sensual magic.

One of his hands drifted lower, resting on her ass, urging her closer until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder.

This was a fantasy. The one time they could live out whatever desire they had for each other. And right now, she wanted to feel like any other girl on the dance floor.

Hannah tipped her chin up and leaned in, but Mason turned his head. She drew back as far as his hold would allow.

He’d hold her. Even dance with her. But a kiss was out of the question?

“Let go of me,” she said.

“Hannah—”

“You don’t get to do this.” She pushed his hands away and slipped through the crowd, searching for a way out.

Mason would be there, behind her somewhere, never out of sight. She couldn’t get too far without him following. God, she wanted to strangle him. She’d suggested leaving—he said they should stay. They stayed—but he wouldn’t cross that boundary between them. He kissed her—and she couldn’t kiss him. The constant flip-flopping was making her crazy.

“Oopsie!”

Hannah walked straight into a gorgeous black woman carrying two slushy drinks in hollowed out coconuts. The icy mixture sloshed down the front of Hannah’s cover-up, chilling any lingering ardor.

“I am so sorry.” The woman held out the drinks.

“No, that was totally my fault.” Hannah shivered as a cool ocean breeze swept inland.

“Christine, what did you do?” A second woman joined the first, hands on her hips. “Did she do that? Chris, you’re such a klutz.”

“I’m so, so sorry.” Christine set the drinks down on a table and grabbed a napkin, which she offered to Hannah.

“It’s totally fine.” She chuckled. “It’s just a cover-up thing. I should have paid more attention to where I’m going. My fault, really.”

“But it’s sticky, and God, I’m so sorry. Let me buy you a drink? I’m Christine.” The woman held out her hand, a brilliant, warm smile on her face.

“Hannah.”

“And I’m Natalie.” The second woman offered her hand. “Love this wrap. Is it H&M?”

“Um, I have no clue. It’s my roommates.” Hannah grinned sheepishly, all her awkwardness sweeping in to rob her of all her smart words. These women were everything she wanted to be—beautiful, fashionable, cheerful, and probably great at picking up men. Maybe she could learn a thing or two?

“Well, your roommate has good taste.” Christine winked.

“That’s why I steal her clothes.” Hannah grinned, and the two women tossed their heads back, laughing.

“Come on, I owe you a drink.” Christine waved Hannah over to the bar. “What do you want?”

Hannah stared at the rows of bottles. She didn’t have anything against liquor or alcohol, it was just a language she didn’t know.

“How about one of whatever you’re having?” She leaned on the bar and caught a glimpse of Mason hovering a dozen or so feet away at a tall table. Well, if he wanted to stand there, watching her have fun, that was his choice. She was going to enjoy this trip—with or without him.

“Hey, Luis?” Christine leaned over the bar and waved at the closest bartender. “Can we get a wet rag or a towel or something? I’m such a klutz I spilled this amazing drink all over her.”

“Are you guys from here?” Hannah asked.

Natalie leaned close and pitched her voice lower, “Christine thinks if she knows the bartender’s names they’ll hook her up with better drinks.”

“Does it work?”

“Who knows?” Natalie giggled behind her hand.

Hannah couldn’t help herself, the laughter was infectious. She accepted the drink Luis slid her way and sipped it. Sweet, fruity, a hint of coconut and the burn of liquor. Hannah blinked rapidly as she swallowed. Yup. It was strong alright. She’d have to be careful or she’d end up toasted, and she was not about to give Mason another reason to keep an eye on her.

“Good, isn’t it?” Christine nodded, her grin wide and friendly.

“Yeah.” Hannah dug her toes into the sand. She was such a lightweight, half of this thing was going to put her on her ass. Still, it was a vacation. So what if she got a little tipsy?

“Oh, I love this song, come on!” Christine latched one hand around Hannah’s wrist and swept her arm around Natalie’s waist, pulling them both to the dance floor.

Hannah didn’t bother looking at Mason’s glaring mug. He wanted to stand around and not have fun? That was his problem. She was going to dance, damn it.

Mason sipped his beer and stared out at the ocean, his thoughts beating at his mind in time to the waves, wearing him down.

There were some things a man couldn’t come back from.

Being with Hannah might be one of them. He wanted her. There was no doubt there. But it worth it? Could he come back from this weekend, be with her, and still be whole? Or would she take a piece of him, never to return it? Could he live without that bit of his soul? Or his heart? If he couldn’t have the whole thing, did he want a taste?

He sensed her presence the moment before Hannah threw her arm around his waist and leaned against his shoulder.

“There you are.” Her words were muffled by the breeze and his shirt. He couldn’t deny the raw sense of pleasure it gave him that even after earlier she still came back to him.

“Yup. Having a good time?” He peered down at her blonde head.

“Yeah.”

The two lookers Hannah had hooked up with seemed to be pros at catch and release when it came to guys on the dance floor, while Hannah was happy dancing by herself. There were a few drunken idiots he’d come close to getting off his stool for, but she’d handled them herself. His gut told him to stick close to her, but his head said to give her space. At least until he figured out what they were going to do. It wasn’t fair to keep her tied up in this thing between them when someone else could step into his place. Even if he wanted to snap their neck for looking at her.

She squeezed his waist and sat on the stool next to him. Her skin was flushed, a light sheen of perspiration clung to her brow, and her eyes didn’t quite focus.

Yup, she’d had a little to drink.

“Here. I can’t drink another one.” She handed him one of the frilly coconut drinks the girls had been slamming back all night.

“What’s in it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been sipping and tossing them as fast as Christine can buy them, but I think I’m done for the night.” She leaned on the table and chuckled. Her words were a little slurred, but not too bad. He’d be willing to bet she had a good buzz going.

He sniffed the drink, sorting through the smells.

“You guys doing another round?” He paid attention to the girls’ trips to and from the bar. They hadn’t been back in at least half an hour. So where had this one come from?

“Luis brought them to us this time. I think he wants a big tip.”

“Luis?”

“The bartender.” Hannah chuckled. “Christine has this theory that if she knows her bartender’s name, she’ll get better drinks.”

“Hm.”

In a place like this the mixed stuff was watered down sugar syrup crap. Mason tipped the coconut back and drank a gulp of the quickly melting slush. The flavors hit the back of his throat and he grimaced.

“Good God, that’s sweet.” He wrinkled his nose and peered at the contents.

“Let me taste?” She sipped from the straw, all dainty like. “Bleh. That is super sweet. They haven’t been that sweet. He must have changed what was going in it.”

“No wonder he gave you this round for free. I wouldn’t pay for this crap.” Still, he wasn’t going to waste free liquor.

Mason drank another big gulp.

The pure sweetness of it coated the back of his mouth. It had more in common with the consistency of cough syrup than a fruity beverage.

“Fuck that.” He put the drink down and pushed it across the table. It wobbled on its uneven bottom, but didn’t tip over. There wasn’t that much left. No wonder the girls had gone through so many. There was more coconut than liquid involved.

Hannah’s hands circled his bicep. She leaned over and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“Will you
please
dance with me?”

His stomach did a flip-flop.

He was powerless in the face of her plea. Yeah, he might try to hold out, to resist her, but the reality was that he couldn’t tell her no. Not really. Not when he wanted to hold her.

Mason knew what he should do. He’d always known the right thing to do. And look where it’d gotten him? A life of no options, forcing him into this corner where he either got the girl and lost his livelihood, or he gave up the girl and kept going. For once he’d like it all—the girl, the life, everything.

“Okay,” he said.

Her smile widened until it was hard to look at anything but her.

She took his hand and tugged him off the stool and to his feet, leading him out into the sea of writhing bodies. He was out of place here. Unlike the vacationing crowd, he could never stop being himself. The SEAL. A guard. It was simply who he was. But for a moment, couldn’t they pretend? Couldn’t he lose himself in this moment? With her?

He slipped his arms around her so there was no mistake—she was his. For right now, on this dance floor, it was just them.

Hannah’s movements were fluid, graceful, a little off beat, but he didn’t care. They twisted and turned, their bodies pressed together, undulating in ways that were purely sexual, adding fodder to his already thick stack of fantasy material where she was concerned. It was all too easy to imagine sliding the sheer cover-up off her body, pulling aside the bathing suit and being inside of her. Hopefully she didn’t mind his thickening erection pressing against her hip. If she did, she wasn’t letting him know.