Delta: Revenge (32 page)

“One of the strongest trees in the world, Sophia. Like us.” Javier took her mouth. He probed with his tongue, urging her to kiss him back, kiss him as though she needed him to survive.

And she had needed him for survival. So she did.

Her legs spread, and his weight sank between them. His powerful thighs spread her wider ones, and his thick erection hardened as his hips worked against her. Every part of her body was sensitive. But with him sliding between her legs, Sophia’s core was on fire. Arousal bled in her veins, making her wet for his touch.

Javier’s hands were slow and methodical. He cupped her breasts, smoothing his thumb over her and pressing her lace-covered mounds into his mouth. Wet, hot heat enveloped her stiff nipples, cascading through her body as his mouth made love.

“Beautiful.” His teeth tugged on the fabric as he slipped her bra off. Repeating the same moves, his lips encircled her nipple, without the fabric barrier, and nothing could be better. She arched and moaned. Excited electricity ran to every limb. They shared no words. It was an act, a dance, a moment where they needed to touch and feel.

He unfastened her pants, sliding them away with her underwear still in place, then Javier kissed and nipped his way up her leg, lavishing attention on the soft inside of her thighs. He toyed with the lace of her panty.

“Not fair,” she murmured as his fingers danced over her clit. Heat bloomed inside her, and she ached for his touch to find her wet skin. “Touch me.”

“Like this…” His fingertip delved under the fabric. He stroked her, languidly, watching her face, working her into a desperately slow frenzy.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Or like this?” Without warning, he sank two fingers inside her slick entry.

Sophia writhed against his hand, bucking for more, for deeper. “That. Like that. Please.”

Javier tugged the lace away, leaving her panty hooked around one ankle as though he couldn’t wait to get back to her fast enough.

“What do you taste like?” His tongue flicked over wet folds, and sliding his tongue inside her pussy, he groaned.

The vibrations tore her apart from the inside out. Her hands clawed into his hair, his thick locks wrapped around her fingers, and she pulled, and he fought it with another groan. Sophia went boneless. His tongue moved to the sweet spot of nerves as Javier spread her out then slid his wet fingers along her seam, teasing her ass then plunging back into her body.

“You’re too much.” The words were marred with pants and murmurs, and she never wanted him to stop. The pressure was perfect, his tongue magnificent. Her mind begged for more, and her breaths came heavier and headier.

Javier sucked her clit, thrusting his fingers and holding her wide with the breadth of his shoulders. Bliss pounded inside her body, begging for release as Sophia pinched her eyes tight and embraced the rapid fire of his fingers.

“Javier… oh, God.” Her mouth hung open, breaths gasping as the roll of her earthquake hit her. Her legs trembled, and her hips bucked. She bit her bottom lip. Javier pinned her, forcing every second of this insane orgasm to pulse against his kiss and milk on his fingers.

Her fists dropped from his hair and clung to the comforter, and she breathed his name as though it were a prayer.

Javier hauled himself over her limp body, and her arms hugged his shoulders as though a simple move could reignite her. He breathed against her ear, kissing behind the lobe, letting his hand tangle in her hair, and telling her things she’d never know, in another language, that couldn’t have sounded any better.

“I need you, Soph.”

She nodded, and then he kissed her while somehow unbuckling his belt and downing his jeans. She clawed at him. Feeling him inside her was the only thing she needed. The thick crown inched into her body, and she was done. Nothing compared to this. “Please.”

Javier thrust, and she bit his shoulder. His gasp burned into her memory, and the indescribable fullness that only he could provide was intoxicating. He pulled back slowly, every inch of him torturing her in the best of ways. Eyes locked to her, he plunged into her pussy again.

“You needing me, that’s what I want to hear.”

She nodded. “I do.”

He fucked her hard and deep, controlling his rhythm until she cried for more, for him to let go and have at it, to never stop, never, ever. Sophia clung to his body, letting Javier lose control, and her orgasm slammed through her. She bucked and bit, and he never slowed down.

Until he did—with long, dangerous, delicious, strokes.

He growled as he came, straining as his head went back and his torso fell to hers. The sheer impact of his orgasm rippled and pulsed. She fell over the edge again, coming on his cock, clenching his release with her own.

He went lax, not moving except for the faintest of kisses on her neck.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The sideways rain hit the window in the Northern Virginia apartment, and Sophia watched the storm clouds, wrapped in the blanket she’d kept from the Cole estate in Pennsylvania. It was the perfect thing to curl up in on the overcast day when Javier had left her for work. She was eager to do something similar soon.

Javier wasn’t what she’d call a phone guy, but he was putting up with her mindless phone chatter and hadn’t seemed overly pained when she required him to accompany her on a mandatory Target run. After all, she couldn’t pick out stuff for an apartment that he would crash at regularly when he was in the States if she didn’t at least know his color preference. It was dark blues—something he hadn’t known about himself either.

They were surviving dating domestic bliss. The next step was visiting IKEA and building something together. It was his idea. Who was she to say no?

“So, when do you get back anyway?” she asked

No answer.

“Javier?”

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Were you listening to me?”

“Eh… blue.”

Sophia tightened the blanket around her, laughing. “Close, but sorry. Nope. When do you come back after whatever it is you’re doing?”

“Couple days. We’re wheels up in ten, though Brock was just pulled off our job. So who knows?”

Her call waiting beeped, and Sophia didn’t recognize the number on the screen. “Hey, gotta take this. Maybe it’s a gig.”

“Call me.”

“Will do.” She swiped the screen. “Hello?”

“Sophia?” Brock Gamble’s familiar voice came through the line.

“Uh, yes?”

“Hana Ferrera’s been abducted, and we have a location on her. If I can get you in front of her safely, can you keep her quiet?”

Uh… what? “Brock… Hana’s… I’m not a field agent.”

“That’s covered. I need a face she trusts. That’s you. It would make the job a lot easier.”

“Me?”

“Or I go in and grab her, and she’s scared and probably bites the shit out of my gloved hand. But word is out there that you’re looking for a job. This is a gig. Want it?”

“Hell yes.”

“There’s the Cole family blood I know. Details will be texted to your phone before we hang up. Plan to get moving within the next thirty minutes. Other than that, radio silence.”

“Okay.”

“No Javier. No Colin.”

“Understood,” she said.

“See you in thirty.”

Sophia ran out the front door, rain splashing in her face and her car keys in hand. A black Suburban with tinted windows zoomed down the quiet street. It veered across the road, locking brakes, making the screeching, splashing noise that Sophia was sure would result in an accident. But instead, the massive SUV came to a stop as though it had been choreographed by an expert stunt driver. It blocked the end of the driveway, and if nothing else, the timing was absurd. Intimidating vehicle blocking her path? Right after she got the call about Hana?

Drenched and uneasy, her adrenaline spiked. At times like this, she needed a little bit of Delta style. A gun on her hip? Yeah, that seemed like it’d be a good idea, though no one would call her a marksman. Still, she could fire the dang thing.

Maybe the better course of action was to get in her car, drive through the yard, and just flee. But reason wasn’t happening as she, soaked through to the bone, moved to the SUV and the driver’s window rolled down.

A near mirror image of Sophia, tack on a couple decades, looked back at her from the driver’s seat. No makeup, hair tied back in a tight ponytail, dark shirt to match the dark windows, and overbearing car that seemed to dwarf
her mother
. “Get in the car, Sophia.”

“Mom?”

Her mom smiled. Like,
smiled
. A genuine smile that said this was who she was, welcome to the club, a smile that both changed Sophia’s entire world and made her question everything she’d ever known about her mother.

“Hop in.”

“Uh…” In what world did the ambassador’s wife say
hop in
while not wearing makeup and with her hair tied back? “I can’t.”

Whatever midlife crisis was happening with Mom, Sophia had places to be. Time ticked, and the seconds lost didn’t bode well for Hana. If there was a chance to help her friend survive, there wasn’t time for this mother-daughter bonding session, as much as her heart seemed to want to get in the car. “I have to go—”

“Get Hana. I know.
Get in the car
, Sophia.”

Her jaw hinged open. Mom knew about Hana? Well… okay. Sophia had no idea what was happening, but her gut said go, and her mom knew about Hana.
Go to Honduras, Sophia Marie. Take the job.
The conversation at the breakfast table and her mother’s words all came rushing back to her. Sophia ran to the passenger side, slopping the strings of wet hair off her face, and threw herself inside the SUV, not at all like the lady her mother had tried so hard to raise.

Running her hands across her wet face, Sophia didn’t have a second to turn and say
what the hell
before Mom shifted out of park, slammed the gas, and made the engine roar as they sped down this quaint corner of suburbia.

“You know about Hana?”

“She knows everything about Hana.”

Sophia spun in her seat to face Brock Gamble, who had a phone to his ear and a laptop taking his attention.

“Wait—I just talked to you.”

“Yup,” he mumbled.

“You didn’t mention you were with my mom.”

“Why would I?”

“Why would he?” Mom piped up. “It’s not like
this
is how I foresaw our conversation going.”

“This? What is this?”

“My involvement with Titan’s contract with US intelligence.”

“I’m sorry,
what
?” With a spinning mind, Sophia had no idea what to ask next. All she could do was stare at her mother, who wasn’t driving like a lady and was very much acting as though she too were an operative.

“We all have a job to do,” Mom continued. “Mine was to publicly be your father’s wife.”

“You’re not Dad’s wife?”

“No, sweetie. Calm down. Of course I am. What I mean is my public role was to be an ambassador’s wife.”

“Not…? Uh, and your private role?”

Mom’s eyes danced as though she couldn’t take hiding her secret any longer. “I’ve been on the CIA’s payroll for years, even before I met your father.”

They made a right and accelerated up an entrance ramp. “Holy. Shit.”

“Mouth, Sophia.”

Brock chuckled in the backseat.

Mom clucked. “Brock Gamble, don’t pretend I didn’t say the same thing to you half an hour ago.”

Brock’s amused chuckle became an even more amused grin. Sophia bounced between the two bantering
operatives
and couldn’t think.

He cleared his throat. “Sophia, look, everything we discussed is still a go, but when I found Irene was available, we opted to swing by and pick you up.”

Irene. Brock and her mom were on a first-name basis. She’d reprimanded him on his mouth, and he apparently did things like
swing by to pick me up
. How had Sophia missed this part of her life?

“When Brock called and said it was you, honey, I thought this would be great. Plus, spy-games carpool.” An unexpected, unfamiliar,
awesome
trill of excitement tickled her mom’s voice. “Far more fun than preschool pickup ever was.”

Sophia swung her gaze back to her mom. “Are you kidding me?”

“Jeesh, it’s like you just found out that your parents had sex more than twice in their life.”

“Mom!”

Brock laughed again. Even her mom laughed.

“You guys, this isn’t funny.” Though it was slightly amusing. And gross. Why would Mom have to make the sex-spy connection? Easy, because neither were believable. Whoa.

“As much fun as this is…” Brock cleared his throat. “You going to have your head in the game in a few minutes?”

“Of course I will,” Sophia snapped, pushing her wet hair off her shoulders and squaring back in her seat. But out of the corner of her eye, she watched her mom. There was another smile. This time it wasn’t amused or free; it was proud, and
that
warmed Sophia in a way that she never could’ve expected.