Kill Shot (7 page)

“What do you say? You up for a little one on
one?” He dared.

She wanted to say yes, but her mind was
screaming no. “I don’t think so. I’ve already been down here an
hour. You’re fresh. It hardly seems fair to me.”

“Come on. I figure you want to get even with
me for taking you down in Colombia. I’ll even spot you a round.
We’ll go two out of three.”

He pulled his shirt off and threw it on the
ground before she could agree or disagree. God, he was beautiful.
Scars and all. His body was lean, and she was distracted by the
hard ridges of muscle on his chest and stomach. A thin layer of
black hair curled across his chest and swirled down his stomach in
a line, disappearing beneath his shorts. His shoulders were broad
and his hips narrow. The two little muscular indentions just above
his hip bones just begged to be bitten. She’d done it before, and
he’d gone wild.

His body was a finely tuned instrument that
could bring pleasure or pain in equal measures, and moisture pooled
in her panties at the sight of him. He was already climbing into
the ring, sure she’d follow after him. Cocky bastard.

“Agreed.” She climbed in after him, the
anticipation making her jumpy. Their fighting stances were
different, but both effective. They circled each other, waiting for
the perfect moment to strike.

“Come on, sweetheart. If I’d known you
wanted to dance, I would have put some music on.”

Grace swept her foot out, but he blocked it
with his forearm. They kept circling, and Gabe’s taunting smile was
beginning to get on her nerves.

“When was the last time you were in the
ring?” she asked. “You’ve been out of the action for a while now. I
think you’ve slowed down with old age.”

“Like hell.”

He swung out, and she blocked the strike,
but she felt the vibration of his powerful punch all the way up her
arm. She was glad he’d pulled it.

“Besides, sometimes slower is better. You
remember, don’t you?”

How could she forget? Her body tingled with
awareness even as her brain fought for sanity. He was fighting
dirty.

“The silver hairs are new. It makes you look
very distinguished.” She swept her foot again, but this time
followed it up with a punch to the solar plexus, and then she
pushed her full weight against him to bring him to the floor. He
put his arms around her to cushion the fall, but it was still like
hitting a cement wall.

“Pin,” she said.

“I don’t have silver in my hair.”

“I know.” She jumped up and bounced on the
balls of her feet. She knew he’d let her take him down. She could
tell by the brace of his body as she hit against him. But he wasn’t
going to let her win again. He immediately charged at her and took
her down to the mat, pulling his weight at the last minute so he
didn’t crush her.

“Pin,” he whispered against her ear, causing
her to shiver.

Sweat dripped from his hair down his face,
and his body was hard against hers. She could feel his arousal, and
her hips ached to push against him. Her nipples hardened, and
awareness widened his pupils until only a thin ring of blue showed.
He pushed off of her slowly and pulled her to her feet.

Her heart was in her throat, and the fierce
need building inside of her made it hard to think. Just as he’d
planned. She jumped up and sent a roundhouse to his head, but he
swatted her foot aside and laughed. Their strikes at each other
grew faster and harder. Their bodies closer together. Their breaths
mingled, and their skin slickened with sweat, and every touch was
like a flash of lightning straight to her core. She faked a punch,
and he ducked, grabbing her around the waist. Their limbs tangled,
and they fell together to the mat in a twisted mass of arms and
legs.

They stared at each other, eyes wide, as
they panted for breath. “Pin,” Gabe said softly.

“Looks like you win the prize.”

His erection was long and hard between her
thighs, and she immediately adjusted her position so he pressed
just where she wanted him to. Her fingers curled into his back, and
she let out a moan full of pent-up desire and frustration as she
arched against him.

“Christ, Grace.”

She shivered as he ran his hands up her
sides and pulled the sports bra over her head. His fingers were
calloused and knew just where she liked to be touched. Her nipples
stood erect, waiting for his mouth like ripe raspberries, and she
threaded her fingers through his hair as he lowered his head and
took what was offered. Every tug and pull of his suctioning mouth
echoed in her pussy until she was soaking wet for him and writhing
in need.

He licked and kissed his way across her
torso, paying special attention to each breast before kissing his
way up her neck to find her mouth.

“You taste good,” he said.

“Please.” The sounds coming from her throat
were desperate as he finally took her lips in a wet kiss—teeth and
tongues sparring just as their bodies had. He was demanding her
surrender, and she was afraid she’d give in.

The feel of him against her was like coming
home. And it scared the hell out of her. She couldn’t do this. He
would open up all the wounds she’d spent the last two years
cauterizing, and she couldn’t let it happen. No matter what her
body wanted. She stiffened as he stripped her shorts down her
thighs and she felt his fingers probe at her moist center. He
scraped against the swollen nub between her folds, and her body
shuddered in ecstasy even as her mind screamed in denial. Her body
was more than ready for him, but was mentally miles away.

Her breathing turned to desperate gasps as
panic clawed at her. His cock was poised at her entrance, the plump
head ready to penetrate, just as she gathered enough breath to
speak.

“No, wait. Stop,” she rasped.

Grace pushed against his chest, and he
looked down at her, the glaze of lust in his eyes so heavy she
thought he wouldn’t be able to stop. But Gabe had always had an
inordinate amount of self-control. He shook his head once to clear
it and pushed away from her, rolling onto his back.

Grace rolled onto her side and curled into
herself. Her lungs burned, and her skin was clammy with fear and
unspent desire. Nausea made her close her eyes and count her
breaths. She didn’t know how long she’d been closed in on herself
when Gabe’s panicked voice finally got through.

“Grace, tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

He was stroking her hair, and it felt good.
She brought her hands up to her face and found her cheeks wet with
tears. What the hell was wrong with her? She was losing her mind.
She looked around to reorient herself. Gabe’s hair hung low on his
forehead, and his eyes were full of concern. His chest was still
bare, but he’d at least managed to put his shorts back on.

Grace pushed his hand away and sat up
slowly. She was still naked, but she didn’t care. She cleared her
throat before she spoke.

“Sorry about that. I get panic attacks
sometimes. It’s no big deal.”

“You scared ten fucking years off my life.
It seemed like a pretty big deal to me.”

“It’s none of your business, Gabe. Leave it
alone.” She stood and gathered her clothes off the floor, stepping
into her shorts and then pulling the sports bra over her head.

“If something’s wrong with you, it’s very
much my business. Other than the obvious reasons, I also have a
team to manage. I have a right to know everything down to the
smallest detail about each of you.”

“I can go back on our bargain any time,
Gabe. Don’t push me on this.” She moved toward the elevator and
escape.

“Grace.”

The sound of his voice stopped her. It
wasn’t demanding or threatening, but understanding, and she
couldn’t deal with it right now.

“I lost her, too,” he said. “I lost you both
because you ran away. You can’t just bury the pain and pretend it
doesn’t exist. You need to talk to someone.”

Grace shook her head as her eyes filled and
tears threatened. But she remained in control, and her voice was
steady when she spoke. “It’s over between us, Gabe. Seeing you is a
painful reminder of things I don’t want to think about. I signed
the divorce papers a long time ago, and I think it’s best if
everything between us from now on is business only.”

Grace swiped her card at the elevator and
left Gabe behind. For the second time.

Hazy morning light filled the interior of
Ethan’s bedroom, and he opened his eyes with both reluctance and
anticipation. He put his feet on the floor and stretched, knocking
over an empty coffee cup on his nightstand along with a smattering
of papers. He swore and reached for his glasses, though they didn’t
clear the sleep from his eyes. He grabbed his pajama pants off the
floor and stumbled into them before shuffling to the bathroom.

When he came out, the smell of coffee
greeted him, and the last lingering dregs of sleep faded as he
realized someone had breached his security. He grabbed the closest
thing to him, which happened to be a shoe, and crept into the main
room as adrenaline flooded his system. Fear lodged in his throat,
making it difficult for him to swallow as he ran probabilities and
the implications of what a breach would mean. The others had to be
dead or captured.

His thoughts spiraled out of control with
every step he took closer to danger. What had he done wrong? He
should have been alerted the moment someone stepped foot in the
hallway outside his apartment. He’d never had problems with his
security before. No one had ever been able to breach it. Well,
except for Gabe, but that was to be expected of the guy in
charge.

“Are you planning on shoeing someone to
death?” A cold voice asked from his right.

Ethan whirled around to find Grace leaning
against his kitchen counter, a cup of steaming coffee in her hands.
She was dressed in a threadbare grey T-shirt and worn jeans, and
her hair was braided loosely down her back. At first glance, Ethan
thought she looked closer to his own age, but her eyes held an
experience and wisdom that most people never achieved. There was no
doubt in his mind that she’d earned every inch of her
reputation.

“How in the hell did you get in here?” Ethan
asked.

He felt the flush of embarrassment working
its way up his neck, and that only intensified his anger. His
system had not only failed, but
she
had been the one to do
it. He dropped the shoe and ran to the front door, tripping over
the corner of his rug and barely catching himself on the corner of
the couch before he face-planted on the tile. He ignored the sting
to his pride, too curious to see what she’d done to the system he’d
installed. He opened the panel in the wall, but everything was just
as it should be. The wires were intact, and the red light was
engaged, just as he’d left it the night before.

The muscles in his back tensed, and his
palms were damp with sweat. He turned around slowly, wondering if
he could make it out of the building before she got him. He’d seen
the looks Gabe had been giving him lately. He knew the team didn’t
trust him completely. Didn’t think he could handle the pressure or
remain loyal to what they were doing. Well, screw them. He knew
damned well where his loyalties lay, but he wasn’t going to stop
having fun just because everyone else was
old.
And it might
be perverse, but he was having a good time seeing how far he could
push Gabe before the man snapped completely.

“Relax, Ethan. I’m not here to kill you,”
Grace said.

“Well, that’s a relief. Like you’d even tell
me if you were.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and headed
back to the kitchen.

“Look at it this way. If I were, you’d
already be dead by now. Here, it looks like you could use some of
this.”

He took the coffee she offered him, his mind
split between thinking he was going to die and wondering how she’d
breached his system. Ethan drank from his cup deeply and winced at
the bitterness that touched his tongue. The coffee tasted like it
had been boiled a week and stirred with a leather boot.

“Never eat or drink anything someone you
don’t know or trust offers you. It could be poisoned. Spy School
101.”

“Is that a joke?” He ran his tongue along
his teeth and waited for something to happen, for the bitter taste
of arsenic on his tongue or foam to start bubbling from his lips,
but there was only the bitter remains of too-strong coffee.

“I never joke.”

“My mistake.” They stood in uncomfortable
silence for a few minutes—or at least he was uncomfortable. She had
a way of looking at him that made him think she could see into his
soul. It was a little disconcerting.

He grabbed some cereal from his cupboard and
ate it dry out of the box. “What did I do wrong with the system?
How did you get in?”

“It’s a good system. You had a couple of
secondary traps set up that I’ve never seen before, and I don’t see
anyone outside of this group getting past your security. It took me
almost fifteen minutes to get in, and if I was on a mission I
would’ve had to abort. If it makes you feel better, probably Gabe
and I are the only two people in the world who could’ve gotten in.
We used to practice B&E for fun. It keeps you sharp.”

Ethan relaxed a little at her explanation,
though he was already thinking of ways he could tighten the system.
A couple of more secondary trips and maybe a body-temperature
sensor would take care of it. She’d thrown down the gauntlet, and
he was determined to best her.

“So you and Gabe have worked with each other
a lot, huh?” he asked, curious to know more about the man who
didn’t seem to have a past. Whose records had been wiped so clean
there wasn’t a trace of him anywhere. And Ethan had certainly
looked. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Gabe Brennan was his real
name.