Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel (25 page)

Abby’s hands dug into his shoulders, stilling him. “Not yet,” she said softly. “It’s my turn.”

Before he could blink, she had him on his back and her long red hair tickled his pecs as she slithered down his body. When he felt her warm breath on the tip of his cock, he nearly exploded right then and there. Breathing deeply through his nose, he willed away the impending release. Abby’s tongue darted out to lick his engorged head, summoning a low groan from his chest.

She rubbed her lips over him, then lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Tell me what you like.”

“Everything,” he choked out. “I like everything you’re doing.”

“Tell me,” she insisted.

Kane was floored by what he saw on her face. Eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed, eyes shining with fortitude. She seemed determined to bring him pleasure and he could suddenly picture that same determination hardening her features on the field, as she threw her entire being into the task of accomplishing her goal.

Although it nearly killed him to say it, he mumbled, “Start slow. Make me beg for it.”

With a hint of a smile, she bent down and proceeded to torture him into oblivion. She lavished all her attention
on him, squeezing and kissing and worshiping his cock so thoroughly that his chest tightened with emotion. She licked him from base to tip with the lazy swipe of her tongue, again and again, breaking the rhythm every few seconds to suck him deep into her mouth. Groaning, he tangled his fingers in her hair and tried to thrust into her mouth, but she turned her cheek and pressed soft kisses to his inner thigh instead, refusing to give him what he wanted.

Kane’s muscles loosened and turned to jelly, tiny pinpricks of pleasure making every inch of his skin tingle. “Abby,” he said hoarsely. “Please.”

Laughing, she brought him back to her mouth, wrapping her lips around his cock and sucking so hard he thought he might have a heart attack. She moved one hand to his balls, cupped them, kneaded them, and then her tongue was down there and he cried out in agony-laced ecstasy. He grasped her hair in his fist and yanked her up.

“Jesus Christ, Abby,
fuck me.
”

She laughed in what sounded like sheer delight, already fumbling for the condom. She rolled it onto his erection and positioned herself over him, her gaze locked with his as she seated herself on his throbbing dick.

They both moaned as he filled her. Abby arched her back, drawing his attention to her chest, to those dusky-red nipples that begged for attention. He cupped her breasts as she rode him, pinching her nipples and rolling them between his fingers. In response, her inner muscles clamped over him, squeezing so tight he knew he couldn’t last long.

“It’s going to be fast,” he warned huskily. “I can’t…”
She undulated against him and he muttered a curse. “I can’t hold back.”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispered. “You said we’re letting go, right?”

His pulse took off at a wild gallop as she ground her tight sex against him, her hips thrusting with reckless abandon. Fire consumed him, searing his skin and burning through his veins. He didn’t want it to end. Ever. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from racing to the finish line. She began to ride him hard, and he met her furious movements with his upward thrusts. He hit a spot deep inside her and she cried out so loudly he worried he might have hurt her, but one look at those yellow eyes, gleaming with raw passion, and he was reassured.

He felt her tightening around his shaft, squeezing him, milking him as she lost herself to another pounding climax. It was too much. With a groan, Kane exploded inside her, his cock throbbing with each endless wave of release. Every nerve ending in his body hissed with pleasure, crackling and sizzling and sending sparks of heat jolting through him.

“Jesus,” he mumbled when they both grew still.

“Why do men always say that?” she teased, sounding breathless. “Jesus and sex don’t really go hand in hand.”

A laugh squeezed out of his chest. “Would you prefer I say,
Holy fuck, Abby, I can’t move my fucking legs, that was so good
?”

She laughed. “I think I might like that better.”

“Okay, then. Holy fuck, Abby, I can’t move my fucking legs, that was so good.”

Trevor liked Isabel Roma.

He actually
liked
Isabel Roma.

He wasn’t sure if it happened during her confession about her background, or maybe at some other random time he couldn’t pinpoint, but somehow, during the last few hours, he’d realized he was actually enjoying her company.

They’d shared a quiet dinner in the honeymoon suite of Casa Medina, then moved to the love seats by the fireplace and started talking. About this current assignment. About past assignments. Random childhood stories. And sure, he may have consumed several glasses of wine, but he didn’t feel drunk. Only confused, that somehow his partnership with Isabel had gone from coldly impersonal to oddly comfortable.

The realization brought that familiar pang of guilt.

“I hope Abby’s all right,” Isabel was saying, twirling a lock of black hair around one slender finger.

Trevor pushed his disturbing thoughts away. “I’m sure she’s fine. She seems like the type who can take care of herself.”

“Oh, she is. To the extreme.” Isabel smiled wryly. “What she needs to learn is how to let other people take care of her once in a while.”

“Have you two known each other long?”

“Five or six years. She’s a hard woman to get to know, but eventually she lowered her guard with me. Want to know a secret?”

Isabel’s eyes twinkled playfully. Trevor had to force himself to remain unaffected. So what if Isabel Roma was drop-dead gorgeous? So what if her laid-back personality and innate charm had the power to put him at ease? Like Abby, he may have lowered his guard around Isabel, but this tentative friendship didn’t mean… It didn’t mean anything.

“What’s the secret?” he said gruffly.

“Abby’s my favorite.” Isabel let out a little laugh. “I always say that I love them all equally, but I actually have a big soft spot for Abby.”

“Who’s
them
?” he asked quizzically.

“The other chameleons Noelle took under her wing,” she clarified. “There’s Abby, of course, Juliet, Paige, and then Bailey, who’s been on some hush-hush undercover op for the past year. We all try to get together a few times a year. Really, they’re my only family.”

“Are they all as good as you at becoming a different person?” he asked in a wry voice.

“Bailey’s even better. When she’s in character, I could walk right past her on the street without even batting an eye.”

“So you’re all pretty close.”

“Sure. Aren’t you close with Morgan and the guys?”

“I used to be.” He winced at the wistful note in his voice. Fuck, he’d definitely had too much wine if he was getting all sappy.

“I like them,” Isabel said frankly. She grinned. “Even Luke, who thinks he actually stands a chance at seducing me.”

Trevor couldn’t help but laugh. “You mean you didn’t fall for his Cajun charm?”

“Sure I did. Just not enough to go to bed with him.”

“Wait until you meet Sullivan.” Trevor snorted. “I’ve yet to come across a woman who can resist him.”

“He’s the Australian one, right?” When Trevor nodded, she said, “Yeah, Luke mentioned him when we were out shooting.” She took a sip of her wine. “You’ve got a really diverse group there. Rangers, SEALs, Marines, Australian Defence Force. How’d you meet Morgan anyway?”

“He approached me after I left the army.” Trevor ran a hand through his hair. “I was so tired of fighting wars I knew we could never win. Wars we shouldn’t even have been fighting. I went back to Colorado and worked at a security firm, and one day Morgan showed up and told me it was a waste of my skills to be working as a security guard at a bank. I talked it over with Gi—” He stopped hastily.

Isabel sighed. “It’s okay to say her name, you know.”

“I know.” He gulped, forced himself to continue. “I talked it over with Gina, and she agreed with Morgan. Said I was wasting away in all the
normalcy
.” He smiled faintly. “Apparently I wasn’t good at doing normal.”

“Join the club.” To prove her point, Isabel swept her hand over her newly transformed appearance.

“Just out of curiosity, what do you actually look like?”

“Boring old blond hair, boring old blue eyes. I’m the only blue-eyed blonde in my immediate family. They all look very Italian—dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. My brother used to tease me when we were kids, said I must have been adopted. If I wasn’t the spitting image of my maternal great-grandmother, I probably would have believed that.”

Trevor laughed, and this time it didn’t sound so rusty. He’d laughed a lot tonight. Too much, probably.

Fortunately, his cell phone began to ring before he could question his renewed capability for laughter. The ringing phone didn’t belong to Julian; it was the one he used for work, and sure enough, Morgan’s number flashed across the screen.

The conversation was short, and when he hung up, Isabel gave him a questioning look. “They’re here?”

“Landed a half hour ago,” he confirmed. “After our
meeting with Blanco tomorrow, he wants us at the safe house to go over the extraction.”

For the first time all night, Isabel looked ill at ease. “Do you think Blanco will give us an invitation?”

“Yeah, I do.” There was no hesitation on his part. “Bahar obviously gave his approval, and Blanco trusts the guy. I think this meeting is just a formality.” His mouth twisted. “And I think he’s going to demand a fortune from us for this attendance fee of his.”

Isabel leaned over and set her wineglass on the little table between the two love seats. “Greed,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never really understood it. So many lives destroyed, thanks to all those greedy people out there.”

His throat tightened. “A television,” he heard himself stammering.

She glanced over in confusion. “What?”

“That’s what the man who robbed our condo got out of the deal. He took the television and Gina lost her life.”

Too much. He’d said too fucking much, and now it felt like a huge weight was pressing down on his chest. Stumbling to his feet, he began gathering up their wineglasses and the now empty bottle, then stalked over to the meal cart by the door and dumped everything on it. He rolled the cart out of the suite, leaving it off to the side, then hesitated in the carpeted hallway.

He drew in a ragged breath. Enough. He was here because Morgan had asked him to take the lead on an extraction.

He was here because this was a suicide mission that probably wouldn’t end the way Morgan desired. There were too many variables to contend with. Blanco’s army
of guards. William Devlin. A compound where security had undoubtedly been strengthened after the last breach, courtesy of Morgan. Thirteen girls in who-knew-what condition.

Chances were, there would be casualties.

And Trevor was perfectly content to be one of them.

Abby was out of her element. She and Kane were lying in bed, legs tangled together, her head nestled against his bare chest while one strong arm wrapped tightly around her. She’d never really shared a bed with a man before. The targets she’d been involved with hadn’t wanted to sleep beside her. A lot of powerful men, she’d found, preferred sleeping alone. So had she, up until just now. Who would’ve guessed how nice it could be? Cuddling close to a warm male body, hearing his heart beating in her ear as his fingers absently stroked her hair.

She kind of liked it.

“You still awake?” he murmured in the darkness.

“Yeah,” she murmured back.

“Abby…” He trailed off.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to push you.” He sounded frustrated. “Normally I just make demands and get the other person to do what I want, to tell me what I want. But I don’t feel right pushing you.”

She sighed against his skin. “You want to know about Devlin?”

“Yes, damn it.”

The impatience in his voice brought a smile to her lips. She suspected it had taken a lot out of him not to demand answers the moment the sex had ended.

“I don’t like that you’re speaking to him. I don’t like knowing he wants to hurt you,” he added hoarsely.

“It’s not like I want to talk to the bastard.” She hesitated, then opted for the truth. “He threatened someone I care about.”

She could practically hear his brow furrowing. “Who?”

“The psychiatrist I saw after Jeremy adopted me. Her name is Dr. Silverton, and she was the one person I was able to talk to about my past.”

“Okay. How the heck did Devlin track her down?”

“I don’t know. I’m assuming he has a rat in the CIA—that’s the only government agency with a file on me. He must have gotten his hands on it, then dug into my background until he found Dr. Silverton.” Her voice shook. “He broke into her office and stole my session tapes. And he said he would kill her if I didn’t take his calls.”

Kane swore softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t like to confide in people.”

“So what, he calls you and… chats?”

“No. He makes me remember the past.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“He talks to me about my childhood. Last time he played a part of Dr. Silverton’s tape.”

Kane’s arm tightened around her. “He makes you listen to yourself talk about… everything that happened? Makes you go through that over and over again?”

“Well, he’s only called twice,” she said lightly.

“That’s more than enough. Jesus, Abby, how do you stand it?”

“I have to.” She shrugged. “Besides, I need to make him think he’s actually getting to me.”

“But he’s not?”

“Not as much as he thinks he is.” She let out a sigh. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I
will
eliminate Devlin. I can’t be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I’m going to have to kill him, but not yet. Right now I’m perfectly content with distracting him.”

His jaw tensed. “You’re playing games with a psychopath, Abby.”

“I know how to handle men like Devlin. I’ve done it before, and I always win.”