Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) (20 page)

“And where are we going to find this car?”

“There’s a town about five miles up the road. We’re going to ditch this car, and then I’m going to stroll into town and find a substitute while you wait.”

Grace could hardly believe her ears. “I’m going to hide behind a tree somewhere and wait for you to return with a, I don’t know, beat-up old Tempo or something? I don’t think I like that idea.”

His expression was grim. “I don’t like it either, but it’s all I can think of at the moment.”

Up ahead, there was a sign for a motel, the kind that used to dot the highways years ago before all the chains took over and built their motels alongside interstate exits.
 

“Jackpot,” Garrett said as he turned in and drove behind the motel.
 

They would be hidden from the road, but it wasn’t much protection in the long run. Garrett drove slowly, scanning the cars until he found one that must have suited him. It was a beat-up blue-and-white truck, the kind of old farmer’s truck that still hauled hay and feed on a million small farms across the nation.
 

He parked beside it and got out. Grace did the same, grabbing her bag as she did so. Garrett stood and looked around the parking lot, but no one was about. It was daylight, but there wasn’t anyone stirring in the back of the motel. It wasn’t the kind of motel where you’d expect people to be outside. No, it was either a low-income home for many, which meant they were probably working somewhere, or it was the kind of place where couples met up for quick sex during the day before going back to work or home to their spouses.

After standing there for a long moment, Garrett walked over to the truck and popped the door open. The keys were dangling from the steering column and he snorted. Then he grabbed his gear and slung it into the truck. Grace jumped inside and belted herself in, though it wasn’t easy to get the damn seat belt to work, while Garrett started the truck. It sputtered and coughed, and her heart thundered as they backed out of the spot.
 

No one came outside at the noise, though.

“What about your car?”

“It’s not mine.”

“I don’t like the idea of taking some poor farmer’s truck, Garrett.”

His steely eyes were serious as he looked at her. “No, I don’t either. But my people will find the owner and compensate him or her. It’ll be fine. Now get down and stay down, okay? Those people are looking for a man and a woman, not a man in an old truck.”

She lay across the seat, her head touching his leg, and stared straight ahead at the worn and faded dashboard. Wires dangled beneath the steering column, and candy wrappers lined the floor. The ashtray was full and an empty pack of Marlboros lay crumpled among the wrappers.
 

Down here, the musty smell of smoke was horrid. But she’d do what Garrett told her because she knew he was right.
 

He laid a hand on her hair briefly and then lifted it away again. She wanted to beg him to put it back, but both his hands went to the wheel and stayed there.

“How long do I have to stay like this?” she asked after several silent minutes had passed.
 

He’d turned onto the highway and was driving at a leisurely pace now, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
 

“Until I tell you different,” he said calmly. Infuriatingly.

“I don’t much like the view down here. And it’s uncomfortable.”

“I know, honey. Lie down with your head on my lap. At least you can sleep like that.”

She almost said no, but the truth was she wanted any excuse to touch him. So she unclipped her seat belt and stretched out across the seat until she could put her head in his lap. Then she turned until she was looking at his belly.

And his groin. His cock was right there in her face. All she had to do was slide his zipper down and she could put her mouth around it, suck him while they drove…

“Grace.”

She glanced up at him. “Hmm?”

“I said sleep, not torture me.”

“I’m not doing anything.” But her ears were hot.

“No, but you’re thinking it.”

She huffed. “You do
not
know that.”

“You’re lying there with your head in my lap and your eyes wide open. You might even have licked your lips. Pretty sure you aren’t thinking about sleep.”

“I’m thinking about lollipops. Licking them. Sucking them.”

“For Christ’s sake,” he groaned. “Stop. Not another word. Either close your eyes and pretend to sleep, or turn the other way. I’m trying to keep you alive here. As much as I might love the idea of your mouth on my cock, I’m pretty sure my ability to think would slide down the scale to zero. And trust me, you want me able to think right now.”

Grace closed her eyes. She wanted him to be able to think. But she wished even more that he didn’t have to.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

GRACE FELL ASLEEP. Garrett didn’t think she would, but then they hadn’t slept much last night, and he wouldn’t let her sit up and therefore wake herself. Eventually, her breathing evened out and the tension in her body melted away. Too bad the tension in his didn’t follow.

But she was lying with her head in his lap, her lips inches from his dick, and all he could think of was that moment last night when she’d dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth. He’d probably had better blow jobs from women with more experience giving them, but he’d never had a sexier one.

She knew what she was doing, but she’d done it shyly, uncertainly—at least at first. Once she’d been sure he was into it, she’d relaxed.

As if he wouldn’t get into it. Jesus, what kind of lovers had she had in the past? Any man who didn’t appreciate the sweet fire of Grace Campbell was a fucking idiot.

Garrett gripped the wheel and drove steadily down the highway, forcing his mind from the thought of Grace’s lips wrapped around his penis. It was still daylight for a few hours, but it was overcast and there was rain up ahead. He could tell by the clouds. He kept an eye on the rearview, but nothing out of the ordinary appeared. He drove slowly enough that anyone coming up behind him usually blazed past the second there was a straightaway.
 

He worried that the owner of this truck might call the cops, but then the empty beer cans in the bed told him that the owner might just be passed out in his room and unconcerned about the world for a few more hours yet. Or at least that’s what he hoped all the beer cans meant—that the guy was a heavy drinker who’d taken as many cans into his room as he’d left behind.

Garrett didn’t check his phone. He’d turned it off a while ago now, and he wasn’t planning to turn it back on. Instead, he’d get a burner at the first location he could find and communicate that way. His team would be frantic until then, but his first job was protecting Grace—and he wasn’t sure there wasn’t a leak somewhere. How the fuck had those bastards back there found them so quickly? And how had they gotten in under the radar? HOT should have known they were coming. There should have been more warning, even beyond the perimeter alarms.

Garrett squeezed the cracked steering wheel in his fists. Someone wanted Grace, and they were getting too close for comfort. If they’d only tried to take her a few nights ago, she’d be gone, and no one would know where she was. He couldn’t fucking believe that she’d had no protection between the night the first guy had accosted her at the lab and the day the senator had called him in.

Yeah, he’d been pissed about being sent to play guard dog to a privileged woman with a silver spoon up her ass, but there was clearly a lot more going on here than he’d thought at first.

Than any of them had thought. He had no doubt that if Mendez had realized what kind of danger Grace was in, he’d have put more than one man on her to start with.

Garrett’s gut boiled with anger and frustration. His money was on Ian Black. Yeah, it would have made more sense to romance her, but maybe Black just didn’t have that kind of finesse. Or maybe he didn’t swing that way. Garrett’s gaydar hadn’t gone off around the man, but that didn’t mean anything.

If Ian Black liked to suck dick, Garrett couldn’t care less. But what he did care about, very much, was what Black wanted with Grace.

Garrett drove for two hours, following a southerly route, until the sky started to darken and the rain pounded down on the truck. The wipers weren’t too good, so he found a gas station and pulled in to get new ones. Grace woke with a start when he came to a stop. Her eyes were wild for a second, but then he could see understanding unfold as she realized where she was.

She didn’t sit up, but she did meet his gaze evenly. “Why did we stop?”

“Need wipers and gas. And maybe something to drink. You thirsty? Hungry?”

“Can I sit up?”
 

He let his gaze slide around the parking lot. There were cars, but nothing out of the ordinary. The kind of people who were after them would have run them off the road if they’d found them.

“Yeah, I think so. But stay in the truck, Grace. Let me take care of everything.”

She pushed herself up and sank against the seat back. “Okay. Can you bring me a water and a bag of Lay’s?”

He couldn’t help but grin. “You’re a junk-food junkie, aren’t you? Cold pizza and now this.”

She gave him a look. “I somehow doubt you’re going to find organic ham and sprouts on artisan wheat bread in there, so give me a break.”

Geez, she cracked him up. He opened the door and stepped out, then went around and pumped gas before going inside and rummaging through the offerings. He got some water and soda, for the caffeine, a couple of bags of chips, some beef jerky—and a John Deere ball cap. The gas station was too small and out of the way to have burner phones, so he’d have to find another place for that. When he returned to the truck, Grace was watching for him.

He pulled the cap out and handed it to her. “Put your hair in it.”

She took the cap and turned it over. “My hair is brown. It’s not distinctive or anything.”

“Still, I’ll feel better if you hide it.” He looked at her sitting there with her glasses on and felt a thump in his chest. “I’d like it even better if you could lose the glasses.”

“I like to see, Garrett.”

“You weren’t wearing them at the party the other night.”

“Contacts. I wear them when I have to, but I hate putting them in. I didn’t stop to put them in when you dragged me from my house last night. I’m lucky I grabbed these.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t checked into laser surgery.”

She ducked her head. “I have… I just haven’t worked up the courage yet.”

“My mother had it for cataracts. She drove herself home after the procedure.”

“I’ll get it done one day.” She twisted her hair onto her head and put the cap on. She looked cute in her black-rimmed glasses and a John Deere cap, sorta like a farmer’s bookworm kid or something. He knew those things were clichés, but nevertheless, it’s what he thought of.

She frowned. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Not at all.”

“Fuck you—yes you are.”

He put a hand on his chest, clutching his T-shirt. “What have I told you about talking dirty to me, cupcake? My heart can’t take it.”

She reached over and smacked him lightly on the arm. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“And you’re a filthy-mouthed nerdy girl I’d like to lick from head to toe the very next chance I get.”

He could see the moment when she stopped breathing. The moment when her mouth went slack and her nipples hardened against the stretchy fabric of her T-shirt. He wanted, more than anything, to drag her to him and claim her mouth for his own. And then he’d work his way across the delicious map of her body, over the peaks and valleys, and into the soft, dark wetness he craved. That’s where he was planting his flag. The one that said
“Mine.”

Garrett blinked.
Whoa, what the fuck was that all about?

There was no map, no flag, and certainly no
mine.

He turned the key in the ignition and fixed his gaze ahead. He didn’t know where they were going, but he knew the danger was far from over.

* * *

The truck didn’t precisely burn up the pavement the way her father’s Escalade or the Camaro had done. No, it puttered along at a respectable sixty miles an hour, tops. Grace didn’t know where they were or where they were headed, but she leaned back against the seat and watched the scenery slide by. She’d eaten her chips, drank half a bottle of water, and had a sip of soda. They’d left the gas station behind an hour ago, and they’d lapsed into silence long since.

The truck’s heater was good, thank God, but the interior was still dank and musty, and she cracked her window just a hair to let in some fresh air. Garrett only glanced at her.

But that glance was enough to make her heart skip a beat and her pussy grow damp. It was crazy how just a look from that man could make her willing to do almost anything for his touch. She hadn’t forgotten what he’d said about licking her from head to toe, and that certainly didn’t help matters much.

Of course she was worried about what might be around the next corner, but she grew weary thinking about it and bracing for it.