Seek and Destroy (9 page)

    Grabbing the coconut oil out of her bag and handing it to him, she quickly turned to expose her back, breaking rule number sixty-two.
NASSD Rule #62: Never turn your back on your target.
She listened intently as he popped open the top of the bottle, as he squirted oil into his hand. Barely breathing, she waited for his touch.

    She jumped when his hand gently brushed her shoulder, the contact sending goose bumps washing across her flesh, causing her clit to ache with a need she knew only he'd be able to fill. "Sorry, it's cold." She tried to laugh to cover up her reaction. Glancing down at the way her nipples poked at the fabric of her suit, she closed her eyes in an attempt to gain some sort of control over her body.

    "Really? Feels pretty hot from my end."

    A breath escaped past her lips in a whimper. She tried to relax, to slow her breathing. Not only was she nervous as hell, she had the hottest man in existence rubbing oil on her back, rubbing his callused hands across her skin. "H-How long have you been here?"

    He brought another palm full of the oil to her back, slowly caressing her, her body responding to his touch. His other hand joined the first. They explored the hollows of her back, massaging in tiny circles before slowly gliding toward either hip. Moving his hands until he hit the suit, just the tips of his fingers found their way under the fabric. Charis shuddered and tried to ignore how every slight movement of his hands made her entire body tense.

    He traced the hem of her suit, drawing his hands up until they stopped just under her arms. She didn't move, she didn't even breathe. Just another inch on either side and he'd be able to touch her breasts. A little further and he'd brush against her aching nipples.

    She jumped when he let out a breath. Oh dear God. He had to have had his mouth less than an inch from her neck. She felt the moist warmth of his breath tickle her, and swore his lips whispered a kiss on the sensitive spot behind her ear. Her folds softened and swelled in anticipation of him rubbing her aching clit with the same caress he used on her back.

    Pulling his hands back, he used his thumbs to rub at the muscles on her back and neck. The roughness of his hands felt so good against her skin. The way he touched her seduced her flesh, rendering her incapable of muttering a protest. He had her so wet the moisture pooled between her legs.

    He continued to rub her as he spoke, his breath tickling her neck. "Do you want me to do your front?"

    "More than anything," she breathed, her voice thick with lust. Her eyes flew open when she realized what she'd said. "I mean-I-" She stopped babbling and hung her head in mortification. Oh please let her have imagined she'd just said that out loud. His touch, firm and persuasive, yet gentle and in perfect control, invited more. Having those hands on her, touching her, caressing her, had turned her brain into mush. Her thoughts were now preoccupied with her taking him back to her room to, indeed, do her front.

    He pulled his hands back and the damp channel of her pussy clenched in protest. By the time she turned to him, she wondered if he felt the same electricity, the same sexual charge she did.

    His dark brows arched mischievously as he waited for her to finish. The smile in his eyes held a sensuous flame, and caused the slick heat of her inner core to burn with want. The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. "I can see my comment embarrassed you. I was only kidding."

    She pulled her gaze away and touched her blazing cheeks with the back of her hand. Embarrassed didn't even begin to describe the feeling rushing her senses. Desire. Hunger. Anticipation. "Right. I knew that."

    "So tell me," he started and eased himself back on the lounge chair. She mirrored his moves. Another trick in the NASSD rulebook, though she couldn't recall the number. He picked up his drink and again she did the same. As he drank, she played with her straw, trying to bring her senses back under control. They danced in a stimulated frenzy after he had her almost near orgasm just from rubbing her back. "How'd they find me?"

    
They didn't. I did.
"I followed a hunch."

    "Interesting. And after what I told you back at that hospital, you still think you have a chance at me?"

    God, she hoped so. Her clit perked in obvious approval of her train of thought. "I have a request. A favor, of sorts."

    "Hah," he mocked, his expression changing. His face hardened, his eyes no longer danced. "Why should I do you any favors?"

    Ignoring the slap across the face at his comment, she swallowed down what she really wanted to say. Who sat by his bed day in and day out until he regained consciousness? Who warded off the demons threatening to take his last breath? Who diligently changed his dressings to keep her cover as his personal physician, and to give her an excuse to touch him? Who, for the brief moments she did leave his bedside, spent every waking moment reading everything she could find on Ricin and how to counteract its affects?

    She swallowed again, trying to steady her voice. Despite his harsh comments, her libido refused to back down, instead keeping her at a constant state of arousal, at a constant, aching need. "I'm here to bring you back."

    He laughed. "Really? You and who else?"

    "Just me."

    He laughed harder. The heat hit her cheeks. Damn him. "Is that so?"

    "I'm not going to force you."

    "You're right." He emptied the contents of the coconut shell and set it down beside him. Charis continued to play with her straw.

    He didn't plan on making this easy on her, and she didn't blame him in the least. "David, just hear me out."

    "No thanks, Angel. I've got my own life now. No more ops. No more smoking out the tangos." As he spoke, she sensed the remorse in his voice. Without another word, David jumped up, spun on his bare heel and headed back toward the surf.

    

    

    David stood against the wall and kept watch. She ate dinner alone and, after ordering her second glass of wine, finally gave up on her Ahi Tuna by throwing her napkin on her plate with a mutter. She wore her dark chocolate hair up in a roll, revealing a delicate and deliciously creamy-looking neck. The little ringlet curls too stubborn to stay up dangled at her temples, her neck. Ah, a damn fine sight.

    She didn't have on a bra and loved how her natural, perfectly sized breasts allowed her to do that. With all the silicone beauties bobbing around this place, they'd put an eye out if they didn't keep their store bought breasts strapped in. He liked her blue dress, too. Snug, but not too tight, with little spaghetti straps. Not obscenely short like all of the other dresses the women wore around the resort, it was nice, the hem actually lower than the knee. It was modest. Different.

    
She
was different.
Good
different.
Make you stand up and take notice
different. The sun from earlier tanned her creamy flesh to a shimmering bronze. Her piercing blue eyes would captivate any man, him included.

    His stomach knotted. It had been years since the sight of a woman had stopped him in his tracks. Why this one? She was a woman, flesh and blood, and nothing more. He ignored the memory of how, even now, she still starred in most of his dreams, his fantasies. Even his nightmares. You couldn't blame a man for reacting to her. Holy hell. He reacted to her now, his cock hardening at the sight of the beauty.

    He adjusted himself in his shorts so the inevitable bulge wouldn't be too obvious. Her hair reminded him of the color of a really strong cup of French Roast coffee. Hot, wet and desirable, and he'd bet his thumb she smelled great, too.

    What the hell was he doing? He pushed away from the wall and walked out the back, down to the same bar on the beach by the pool he'd spotted her at earlier. He needed to get his head out of his pants and his dick back in check.

    "Hey, David! What are you doing here? You aren't working tonight."

    He took a seat and smiled at Tony, the bartender on the weekends. At barely seven o'clock, the night crowd wouldn't shuffle in until after dinner, which gave him a good two hours before he'd have to give up the stool to a paying customer. Dusk had come and passed and darkness had set in. The tiki torches flickered in the slight breeze, causing their flames to dance. Piss poor light sources, but they displayed the perfect ambiance for the tourists. The surrounding palm trees danced in the wind, their whispering song adding to the soft guitar music wafting through the air. The breeze knocked the temperature down to the low seventies, as it did every night.

    Other than an older couple sitting at a table in the back, Tony and David sat alone in the outside bar. "Looking for a little peace."

    "Ain't we all, buddy?" Tony laughed. A brawny man, bald and sporting a ridiculous patch of brown hair below his lower lip he referred to as his soul patch, Tony had showed up in Lahaina before David. Neither talked about the past. Neither talked about the future, either. He figured he had to be hiding, trying to outrun whatever demons chased him here in the first place. But then again, weren't they all? "The twins bounced in here looking for you. I think they headed down to the beach."

    Gabrielle. The
twins
, as Tony affectionately referred to them, were her twenty thousand dollars worth of boobs. She'd made the resort her home for the past few months. And when David made the mistake of spending a few nights in her bed, she wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd done his best to avoid her ever since. One of those spoiled little rich girls whose daddy set them up with a nice fat trust fund, Gabrielle had nowhere to be and all the time in the world to pester the shit out of him.

    He grunted. "Looks like I just lucked out."

    "That woman is F-I-N-E, fine. I'd give my left nut to have her chasing me around like she does you."

    "By all means, take her."
Maybe then she'd leave me the hell alone.

    Tony shook his head. "No way, man. Her and those twins only have eyes for you. Can I get you something? It's on me."

    "Club soda." He propped his elbows up on the bar and rested his head on his hands.

    "You sure? We got a new coconut rum in this morning. Folks tell me it's pretty good with pineapple juice."

    David needed to keep his head clear. "Club soda is fine."

    "All right," he conceded. "But it looks like you have a lot on your mind. I got your back if you need to let loose."

    His problems were his problems. He'd never wanted to open up to another person about the issues plaguing his thoughts. It had always been his job to listen to other people's problems, not share his own. Besides, he didn't feel much in the mood to talk. With Charis McKoy just on the other side of the wall, and the fact NASSD wanted him back, he had enough to think about.

    Why now? After a year, he'd finally accepted his fate. He'd stay here, waste away in the surf during the day, and help the tourists waste away at night. Why would NASSD call him back? He'd been labeled a liability now. A
risk
. Weber made that abundantly clear when he left.

    Unless it wasn't NASSD calling him back.

    Well, shit. Why hadn't he thought of that? Charis McKoy wasn't NASSD-she was ICE all the way down to that sweet ass of hers. He jumped off the stool and spun on his heel, headed back inside the restaurant, ignoring Tony's protests about him leaving a fresh pour. To hell with the drink. He'd square up with Tony later. A quick glance over at the table and he spotted the sexy little mystery still nursing her wine.

    No more games, Charis McKoy. Time for you to come clean. Without hesitation, David started toward her.

    

    

    Her first field op since her accident and she'd failed, proving her director and all the shrinks right-she could no longer cut it in the field. Fine with her. They could take this undercover crap and shove it up their bullying ass. She'd gladly go back to her computer. Back to digging up every lick of confidential information she could find on the dumbass and/or dumbass group terrorizing the United States at any given time. Back to her favorite coffee mug with the saying,
Temptation is good, Giving in is even better.

    Temptation would be good right about now. Her desire tempted her to hunt down David Snyder and give in to what her body had been aching for since seeing him on the beach. As if walking around in a constant state of arousal didn't make her pathetic enough, just thinking about the sexy beach bum had her nipples hard and her pussy lips moist, soft. The tingling inside the walls of her sex grew to a throb, clenching and releasing with little jolts of anticipation.

    Anticipation for what? David Snyder was probably halfway back to the states by now. Or on his way to China. It didn't matter. She'd lost him.

    Damn it. She should have never gone out today. Now that she'd experienced the feeling of having his hands on her, she wanted more. She wanted raw, primitive contact. The kind where two people had no control over their senses. They would both give in to the powers of the flesh and let their instincts take over. Her breath hitched. Just the thought of brushing her fingers over his hard flesh had her flushed. She couldn't think of a single reason why she should fight her attraction for the sexy ex-agent.

    Even her brain had been fighting her today. Every time her mind settled on the sexy Super Spy her heart did flips, her stomach knotted, her skin prickled. She would forget the reason she came to Maui. Forget her role within ICE. Forget everything but how she wanted him to touch her, to rub those large hands all over her, to center his attention between her legs, on her aching bundle of nerves. The way she wanted him to look at her with those deep brown eyes, to trace her body with his gaze. Oh yes, and the way she wanted him to taste her.