Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel (20 page)

“Mmm-hmmm,” he murmured, dragging his lips along the line of her jaw.

He kissed his way back to her mouth, eliciting a small whimper from her. The whimper became a yelp as he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her into his lap. The second she settled over him, she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her thigh. Her thin boxer shorts did nothing to protect her from the heat that scorched her at the intimate contact.

Her tank top had ridden up, and Kane’s hands ran over her back, gently stroking her fevered skin as he kissed her. She suddenly felt awkward, uncertain. She’d never done this before. Kissed someone she wasn’t trying to get information from. Touched someone she wasn’t about to kill. Should she do something with her hands?
Yes, she needed to touch him. That’s what women did to the men in their beds, right?

Kissing him deeper, she lowered one hand between them, seeking out his massive erection. As her fingers touched him over the material of his sweatpants, Kane let out a ragged moan.

And then he took her hand and moved it away.

“Is something wrong?” she said, a pang of anxiety tugging at her belly. It was followed by a sharp tug of self-reproach. Damn it. She didn’t know what to do here. This wasn’t
her
. She wasn’t the kind of woman who sat in a man’s lap and pushed her tongue in his mouth and—

“Nothing is wrong,” he said huskily, reassurance ringing in his voice. “It’s just… not time for that. I want this to be for you, Abby.”

She faltered. “No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t
have
to do anything,” he said with a laugh. “But I sure as hell want to.”

She made a startled sound as he rolled them over so she was lying on her back. He was on his side, hovering over her, and then his deft fingers moved to the waistband of her shorts and he slid them down her legs.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he asked gruffly.

A laugh squeaked out. “You already have.”

“Yeah, but not here.” He ran one finger along the top of her skimpy bikini panties. “And not here.” Slowly, he lifted her tank top, baring her breasts.

A thrill of anticipation shot up her spine as the air met her exposed skin. When she saw the sexy glimmer in Kane’s eyes, the thrill deepened into a throbbing pulse that snaked into her bloodstream. Oh God, who was this man? Why did her brain turn to mush every time he looked at her?

Kane dipped his head and pressed his lips on the swell of one breast.

Panic knotted inside her. What was she doing? Why did her skin feel like he’d set it on fire? The panic intensified. She fumbled with the bottom of her shirt, trying to cover herself. “I can’t do this,” she sputtered.

He looked up at her, his eyes gentle. “Yes, you can. It’s okay to let yourself feel things. I think we both could use a lesson in that. At least try, and if you don’t like what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I promise you that.”

She let out a pent-up breath. “Okay.”

“You sure?”

Another slow exhale. “I’m sure.”

Without giving her time to change her mind, he turned his attention back to her breasts, now healed from the whipping. He kissed each one softly, and her nipples tingled, hardened, demanding equal attention. His tongue licked its way up to one rigid bud. He sucked it gently. Another shock wave rocked her body.

“You like this?” His breath heated her skin.

“Yes.”

He circled her nipple with his tongue, each raspy swirl bringing a jolt of pleasure that blazed down her body and settled between her legs.

“How about this?” He nipped at the side of her breast.

“Y-yes.”

She found herself touching his hair as he played with her nipples, kissing and sucking, biting when it suited him. By the time his hand moved between her legs, she was clawing restlessly at the sheets. She needed… something. Something more.

“Let’s get these off,” he murmured, scrunching the side of her panties with one hand and pulling them down.

He touched her bare thighs. She shivered.

“Say the word and I’ll stop, Abby.”

“No. Keep going,” she choked out.

He braced his hands against her skin and gently pushed her legs apart. “Has anyone ever gone down on you before?”

“You mean, like oral sex?”

He laughed at the dismay in her voice. “Yeah, like that.”

“No.” Abby shifted warily. “Nobody’s ever done that. The ones I’ve been with didn’t seem interested in—”

“No,” he interrupted. “Don’t bring anyone else into this.” He softened his tone. “This is just about us, Abby.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said gruffly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just… I don’t want you to think about anyone in your past. Not now, not ever again. You deserved a hell of a lot more than any of those bastards gave you.”

“If it helps,” she said with a faint smile, “I killed most of them.”

A laugh choked out. “Oddly enough, that kind of does help.”

Her smile widened. “See, my job does have its benefits.”

Shaking his head, he shot her a grin. “If you don’t like what I’m doing,” he said awkwardly, “I’ll stop. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t like.”

She couldn’t stop her eyelids from fluttering closed or her sharp intake of breath as he slid down her body, the rough hair on his chest scraping against her sensitive skin. She glanced down and what she saw made her quiver. Kane’s blond head between her legs, his mouth
inches from her most intimate place, was the most erotic visual she could have ever imagined.

Clasping his hands on her hips, he moved closer and slid his tongue over her already damp heat.

Each brush of his tongue brought on a new sensation that left her breathless. He licked her. Every inch of her body throbbed. Her core. Her breasts. That spot behind her ear. Even her knees began aching relentlessly. Her muscles went taut, tense from the sensations he evoked inside her. Slamming her eyes closed, she tried to ignore the spark starting to burn between her thighs.

“Don’t fight it,” he rasped against her hot flesh.

The spark crackled and hissed, until it became a flame that shot to every part of her body.

Her hands fisted in his hair, trying to push him away.

“Just let go, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

The flame turned into a roaring fire.

His mouth moved over her wet slit, his index finger rubbing her opening. Then he pushed his finger deep inside her and she exploded.

The orgasm rocked her to the core, made her shudder and moan. Waves of ecstasy crashed over her, swelled inside her, their power endless and their force causing her body to thrash wildly until finally her limbs went numb with a satisfaction no words could describe.

When at last she found her breath and regained the ability to function, she found Kane looking up at her with a mixture of triumph and sheer desire.

He lifted a brow. “Well?”

“That… you… I don’t think I can move.”

With a laugh, he climbed up her body and pulled her close, kissing her neck. Another shiver shimmied up her spine.

“See, I told you losing control wouldn’t kill you,” he teased in a husky voice.

“That’s never happened to me before,” she admitted. Her lower body was still throbbing, vibrating from the aftereffects of that unbelievable and terrifying climax. It took her a second to realize that the vibrating was actually coming from Kane.

Cursing, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, which was humming impatiently. Kane’s frown told her exactly who the caller was, and all the pleasure flew out of her body like a sharp gust of wind. Abby’s hands shook as she reached for the phone.

“No,” Kane said severely. “No fucking way.”

“I told you I wanted to talk to him if he called.”

She disentangled herself from Kane’s embrace, managing to seize the cell phone from his hand and flip it open. “Devlin,” she said coldly.

Next to her, Kane hissed out a savage expletive.

Covering the mouthpiece, she looked at him, feeling the regret etch into her features. “I’d like some privacy,” she whispered as her other hand fumbled on the bedspread in search of her underwear.

His face turned to ice. With another angry obscenity, he stumbled off the bed, looking so furious she felt a tremor of fear. His eyes were flashing, his shoulders stiff as a board as he stood over her.

“You still there, luv?” Devlin’s voice chirped in her ears.

She took her hand off the mouthpiece. “I’m here,” she said hoarsely.

Kane shot her a look loaded with fury and disbelief, and then he stalked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Wake up.”

Lucia slowly opened her eyes. Was it morning? One couldn’t tell, not here in this cold, dark room.

She missed her mother. Was Mamá looking for her? Did she think Lucia was dead? Tears stung her eyelids. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to see her mother, and put on her red and white school uniform, and play behind the church with her friends.

Across the room, Valencia was already awake, her long hair twisted in the messy braid she’d fixed for herself last night, when she and Consuela had tried to distract some of the younger girls by doing their hair. But nothing could distract Lucia. She was fully aware of where she was, though not so sure why she was here.

She got a niggling idea as the
halcón
snapped his fingers to get everyone’s attention, then gestured to the burly man beside him.

The man holding a camera.

A tremor went through her as a third man entered the room, dragging in a green hose dripping water at its spout.

“You,” the
halcón
barked, jabbing a finger at Emiliana. “Take off the clothes and stand against the wall.”

When Emiliana hesitated, the guard held up his rifle and shook it ominously. Emiliana quickly ran to the wall and started to strip.

Lucia watched in horror as, one by one, the girls around her were forced to undress and stand in front of the hose. The
halcón
tossed them a bar of soap, ordering them to clean themselves. After each girl had been cleansed, the other guard gave her a towel to dry off with, then made her go to the other side of the room, where the man with the camera had set up a tripod.

Lucia flinched every time the
halcón
pointed at a girl. Soon he would point at her. Soon she would have to remove her clothes while the men ogled her naked body.

Vomit rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down as hard as she could, pushing the bad taste away.

The
halcón
flicked a finger at her. “Your turn. Get up.”

Lucia trembled as she climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her fingers were numb, cold. She could barely undo the first button of her shirt.

“Faster,” the
halcón
snapped.

She quickened her pace, wishing the entire time that she could disappear. That she was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Just not here.

Isabel woke up feeling disoriented. It took her a few seconds to remember she was in the honeymoon suite at the hotel. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sat up in bed and glanced at the thin shaft of sunlight streaming through the thick gold curtains hanging at the window that overlooked the city’s business district. The king-size
bed was covered with a dark yellow bedspread and a mountain of decorative pillows that she’d kicked off during the night onto the rich burgundy carpet. She hoped none of the pillows had conked Trevor in the head. When they’d returned from their meeting with Esposito last night, he’d promptly marched over to the closet, grabbed an extra blanket and pillow, and announced he was sleeping on the floor.

As if she’d really expected him to share the bed with her. The man could barely look her in the eye, for Pete’s sake.

Stretching her arms high above her head, Isabel slid out from beneath the silk sheets. As she stood up, she snuck a peek at Trevor, who was lying on the floor with his eyes closed. She swallowed when she caught sight of his bare chest and long, muscular legs. He wore nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that hugged his groin. He had a great body—tanned, toned, and totally drool-worthy.

Tearing her eyes away, she headed for the master bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up, all the while wishing Trevor Callaghan wasn’t so damn attractive. It would have helped if his looks matched his less-than-desirable personality—that way she wouldn’t have to be so aware of him all of the time. When she reentered the bedroom, Trevor was sitting up, yawning.

“Mornin’,” he said gruffly.

“Good morning,” she answered.

An awkward beat, broken by the clearing of his throat. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than you, I suspect,” she couldn’t help but murmur.

His features tensed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Isabel shrugged as she headed for the Louis Vuitton
suitcase she’d left in the small sitting area across the room. “You were tossing and turning all night,” she said over her shoulder.

God, Gina, I’m sorry.

She kept that memory to herself, though his raspy, grief-stricken words continued to run through her mind. She was tempted to ask him about the dream, but didn’t dare. Trevor was far too touchy, and always on guard whenever she raised a topic that didn’t relate to this rescue.

“I always get restless on a mission,” he said with a veiled expression. “I don’t like waiting around, or relying on people like Esposito to get things done.”

As if on cue, the cell phone he’d left on one of the love seats began to chime. Trevor sprang toward the ringing phone and glanced at the caller ID.

“Esposito?” Isabel asked sharply.

He nodded, then answered the call. “Felix,” he said, his tone immediately transforming into one tinged with lighthearted pleasure. Trevor paused. “Yes, of course. No, we were already awake… He does? Well, that’s very good to hear…”

Isabel listened intently to his side of the conversation, smiling to herself when she heard Trevor mention the fee he’d promised Esposito. Felix had done his job, then—Bahar had agreed to a meeting.

“Samir Bahar is willing to meet with us,” Trevor confirmed after he hung up, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Today.”