Renegade (Elite Ops 5) (29 page)

As he rocked against her, his lips moved along her cheek, to her lips. He sipped at the swollen curves before his lips traveled along her jaw, to her neck, to the rounded curves of her breasts.

With one hand he cupped the side of her breast, lifted her nipple, and lowered his lips to it.

The strangled cry that left her lips had his cock pulsed, the release clawing at his balls as he licked over her nipple. God, he couldn't hold on much longer.

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Sucking the tender tip into his mouth, he laved it with his tongue, tasted it with his senses, and gave himself over to the pure, sweet pleasure of her.

His hips moved faster, rocking harder into the tender flesh gripping him. Each

desperate thrust inside the slick, hot interior drove him deeper into a morass of pure sensation.

She was holding him. Her arms and legs tightened around him as he drove into

her, his cock thrusting into ever-tightening muscles as he felt her hurtling into her orgasm.

She cried out in ecstasy when it took her, his name a chant falling from her lips as he gripped her hips and raced headlong into the release waiting for him.

Silken fire consumed him. It tore up his spine, tightened around his balls, and

drove the breath from his lungs as he felt his semen spurting deep and hard from the throbbing tip of his cock.

Unprotected.

A tortured growl tore from his chest at the realization that he'd forgotten to use a condom. That he was spilling himself inside the brilliant, vulnerable heat of her body.

But he couldn't pull back. He couldn't pull free of the grip encasing him. He drove deeper inside her instead, his seed spurting violently from his body, marking her, possessing her, as he groaned her name like a man demented from the pleasure.

And maybe he was. Maybe he'd lost his last grip on sanity, just as he'd lost his last thread of control, in her arms.

She lay against him, exhausted, little shudders of response still rippling over her body as Nik finally found the ability to think again.

And thinking wasn't something he wanted to do.

"I forgot," he whispered into her hair.

"Hmm?" He almost smiled at the curious little sound she made.

"I forgot the condom." He'd fucked up for both of them.

"It's okay," she sighed. "I'm protected."

He frowned at that, a strange spark of disappointment curling through him.

"You were a virgin," he stated. "Why are you protected?"

"Because I'm not stupid." Her lips brushed his shoulder in a lazy kiss. "I protect myself, Nik. I try not to leave it up to other people to take care of me. Now let me down; my legs are going numb." He heard the soft laughter in her voice as she pushed at his shoulders.

Lowering her gently to the floor, he watched as she wobbled a minute before

sliding off the shoe she still wore and leaving it next to its mate on the floor.

"Wanna shower with me?"

She was decidedly disheveled. Her hair was mussed, her perfect pretty dress

wrinkled and hanging off one shoulder where he'd pulled it down to get to her breast.

Her lips were swollen and reddened, her gaze slumberous and sexy as hell.

Fuck, she was reeling him in and she didn't even seem to be trying.

"Definitely; then we have to talk."

"About what? All the reasons why you don't want me with you through the day?"

She smiled back at him softly. "Talk until you're blue in the face, Nik. If someone is going to keep shooting at me, then I'm going to be a part of figuring out why. It's my blood he's trying to spill here. At least give me the satisfaction of trying to figure out 141

why."

She was going to be the fucking death of him. Even worse, he couldn't come up

with an argument to counter that statement.

Not that he didn't try.

While they showered. While he watched Mikayla lotion her body, dry her hair,

pull on lounging pants and a loose T-shirt. He fought with himself and every argument he could come up with, and still nothing could combat the statement she made.

"You have to follow my lead," he finally stated heavily as they sat across from each other in the living room, a pizza spread out on the coffee table in front of them. "I mean it, Mikayla. This isn't a game. It's not playtime and a killer isn't a joke. No matter what I tell you to do, you do it."

"I'm not stupid, Nik," she said somberly. "I know how to follow orders."

"I never imagined you were stupid," he breathed out roughly. "But no, Mikayla, if you don't like the orders, then you don't follow them. Don't pretend otherwise. Whether you like the orders or not, you will follow them, do you understand that?"

He watched as her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You won't give orders just to

push me back and keep me out of the investigation?"

He only wished taking care of her would be that damned easy.

"I won't give you needless orders," he promised. "At the same time, if I think a situation is becoming or can become hazardous to you, then you will retreat to where you'll be safe. You'll agree to this or I'll have you locked in a room somewhere until it's over. It's that simple."

He was wondering if that wasn't the best thing to do now, rather than waiting. He

was allowing her to endanger herself, and that wasn't sitting well with him.

"How dangerous has it been so far?" she asked him logically as she laid her pizza back in the box. "The danger has come from this investigation since you arrived, Nik. It's not going to stop, and what if they strike like they did the other night? While you're not around?"

"That's the only fucking reason I'm going along with this," he growled, anger surging inside him at the thought of the bastard who had shot through the store. "Because you don't know how to keep your nose out of this and let me handle it."

"Look, fighting over this isn't going to do either of us any good." Her shoulders hunched almost defensively. "Will you be around forever to protect me, Nik?"

He could only stare back at her. God knew he wanted to live his life protecting

her, and he knew from experience that just wasn't possible. Shit happened. Love died.

Innocence was lost and a man could lose his soul as a result.

"I didn't think so." There was no recrimination in her tone, or in her look, only bleak acceptance. "If I sit back and let you protect me now, then I've lost valuable experience in protecting myself in the future. Don't take that away from me."

"And if you end up dead?" he asked her. "At least you'll have a life when this is over if you let me take care of it. Take shooting lessons after I leave. Take self-defense courses. . . ."

"They can't teach you in a class what I'll learn just watching you, being with you,"

she stated, determination glittering in her eyes. "And I won't have you in those classes, Nik. I'm not a child, and I'm not helpless. I won't be pushed into a corner with a pat on the head."

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"You're too damned stubborn," he snapped.

"Fine, I'm too damned stubborn, but in this case you know I'm right; otherwise you would have already locked me in my room while you do whatever the hell it is that you do while you're away through the day. I want to be with you. I want to look these people in the eye, and if one of them is the one shooting at me then I want him to have to face me. I'm finished hiding."

She was finished hiding. "You mean you're finished being safe," he snapped back, an edge of anger slipping free in his voice.

"If that's how you want to see it, then fine. I'm tired of being safe," she countered.

"But you can't look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong, either."

No, he couldn't, and that just fucking pissed him off.

"What did you do today?" She lifted her drink and sipped at it as though the tension in the air weren't thick enough to strangle them both.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, he glared back at her.

"Come on, Nik." Fairy sweet and as innocent as a spring morning, she stared back at him reprovingly. "Let's see how it works. If it doesn't work out, then we'll reassess the situation."

"In other words, you'll redefine your argument," he grunted.

A cheeky smile curled her lips. "That's an option. But I really don't want to die, so I'll always at least consider your side of the situation."

Well, at least he had that much. Shaking his head, he leaned back on the couch

and stared at her as he attempted to find some damned way to counter her objections to staying safe.

It wasn't going to happen tonight.

"I questioned the new foreman, Jack Wallace," he told her. "He had some information I hadn't come across so far. I was going to check it out tomorrow. I haven't been able to confirm your friend Cronin's information, though."

Interest gleamed in her eyes. "And what information is that?"

He ran through it succinctly, finishing off with the information that he intended to question the disgruntled employee the next day.

"That should be safe enough for me to go with you." She smiled sweetly. "I know Jarvis Dalton. He's harmless."

"That's what neighbors said about the Son of Sam," Nik informed her as he tried to hold back his irritation.

The smile faded. Rising to her feet, she silently cleared the food away while he sat there and watched her, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do about her.

Any other woman he could walk away from. He would have put a bodyguard on

her, done what he had to do, then left town just as silently as he had arrived.

But she wasn't any other woman.

She was his woman. Even if it was only for a little while. She was his.

"I'm going to bed." She stood at the kitchen doorway.

"I'll be in later." After she had gone to sleep. After he'd, he hoped, found a way to rebuild at least a few of the shields around his heart.

If she was going to deliberately place herself in danger, then he needed to prepare himself for the worst.

He wasn't prepared for the wounded look in those pretty eyes, though, before she

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turned and headed for the bedroom.

Moving to the guest bedroom, he collected his laptop and notes before returning

to the couch to pull up as much information as possible on Jarvis Dalton.

He was going to have to find a killer faster than he'd ever imagined if he was

going to keep his fairy safe and his soul from being destroyed.

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Chapter 15

Something was different the next morning. Mikayla could sense it, feel it, as she

stepped into the kitchen to find Nik preparing coffee and laying out a small platter of sweet breakfast rolls on the table.

"You didn't come to bed last night," she remarked as she watched him put the right amount of sugar in her cup, then creamer. Giving it a quick stir, he placed it on the small kitchen table before turning back for his own.

"I had work to do." His voice was as cool as a winter morning, his eyes as icy as the frozen North.

What had changed?
she wondered.
How did he manage to go from desperate
lover to cold, hard mercenary in the space of a few short hours?

"What type of work?" She sat down at the table, watching carefully as he took his seat across from her and pulled a file from the other chair.

"Jarvis Dalton." The file was thick, heavy. "It seems he has problems holding down a job for long. He's worked for several construction firms between here and D.C., and if my information is correct he even worked for your father for a few months. He's a career misdemeanor criminal. Penny ante theft, shoplifting, burglary, terroristic

threatening. The man has a rap sheet that proves his stupidity as well as his ineptitude."

"I didn't know he worked for Dad." There wasn't so much as a glimmer of warmth in Nik's eyes. "I rarely talk to him about business or his employees."

"How well do you know Jarvis?" Nik asked.

"He was a few classes higher than me in school." She sipped her coffee

thoughtfully. "He's different. Really quiet. The last I heard, he was living in Nolan Village with his sister and niece since he served six months in jail for shoplifting. I heard he was fired from the construction job where Eddie was killed about three weeks before the murder, but I didn't hear why."

Nik nodded slowly. "I have the address to the apartment. We're going to see if we can't catch Jarvis before he leaves this morning." His gaze flicked over the lacy summer blouse she wore. "I'd change clothes if I were you. Jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers would work best."

She bit her lip nervously as she continued to watch him. There was something too

cold, too hard, about him. As though the veneer of ice was only hiding a seething

volcano. It made her nervous, made her wonder what that volcano actually consisted of.

Finishing the light breakfast, she moved from the table while Nik was going

through the file he'd managed to somehow accumulate through the night. Retreating to her bedroom, she quickly changed clothes before braiding her hair, then lacing white sneakers on her feet.

She didn't often wear jeans and T-shirts. They weren't the best attire for the shop, and that was where she spent the majority of her time.

Returning to the kitchen, she found Nik waiting for her. The dishes were cleared

away, the coffee cups rinsed, and he was waiting with an air of impatience as she walked 145

into the room.

"Remember what I told you last night," he warned her. "If I say 'jump,' don't bother asking how high; just jump as high as possible. If you get in the way, this will be the last trip you make with me."

"I feel so welcome," she murmured as they left the house and Nik quickly set the alarm and locked the door behind them.

"Then I'm not using the proper tone of voice," he growled before catching her arm, swinging her around, and glaring down at her. "Get hurt and I promise you, you'll regret it for far more reasons than the obvious. Don't dare question an order I give, and if you even think of making a move I don't approve of beforehand I'll make a drive-by shooting look like a picnic in the park. Do you understand me?"