Deep Into Trouble--An Unbroken Heroes Novel Page 14

  * * *

  “I’m not your man.”

  Pulse didn’t want to hear that. He glared at the contract killer called Pullman sitting in front of him. “I thought you told me you were the best.”

  The contract killer flashed him a smile that revealed perfect teeth, but his eyes remained ice cold. “I am, but Saxon Hale will make me before I get within a hundred yards of his witness.” The man tapped the desk top, clearly thinking. “Call Sullivan. He’s got a puppy face and he’s new to the game. He might be able to slip under Hale’s nose. Maybe.”

  Pullman got up and went out of the door. It took some time to make it past the security that surrounded Marc Grog’s filming headquarters in the Arizona desert. No one arrived unannounced to the complex. There was a sprawling make-shift campground outside it where the employees lived in trailers and motor homes. Pullman drove away from it, putting miles and miles of desert under the tires of his truck before he pulled into a small town and waited for his phone to ring. Tyler Martin didn’t disappoint him.

  “Sullivan should be getting a call. I expect my payment to be transferred. Getting in with Grog would have been good for me.”

  “Being friends with me will be better,” Tyler Martin responded. “You’ve been paid.”

  “And?” Pullman demanded.

  “I will be in touch,” Tyler finished.

  Tyler killed the call and Sullivan snickered at him from where he was sitting across a table from him. Sullivan lifted up the glass he was drinking some sort of dark ale out of and toasted Tyler.

  “Here’s to business together,” Sullivan declared without a care for how loud his voice was.

  “Just remember, the deal doesn’t go down until I tell you. I need Marc dead, under the correct circumstances. The mouse is our bait. I have a use for her when the first stage is complete.”

  “Right,” Sullivan replied as he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t you worry. I can talk a priest under a vow of silence in circles for hours.”

  Sullivan was an Irishman and proud of his gift for gab. He was also very sure of his capacity for holding his liquor. He stood up and happily went up to the bar in search of another ale. The barkeep was happy to serve him because Sullivan was leaning on the bar, talking to the man as though they were brothers. Before too long, Sullivan had everyone at the bar eating out of his hand like he was a local and there every night of the week.

  Tyler slowly smiled before he slipped out of the door. It was the skill a contract killer needed, that ability to insert himself into the surroundings. Tyler walked down the sidewalk and onto the beach before he pulled out a cell phone and called Carl Davis.

  “What news do you have for me?”

  “I’ve got a man going in, one that will make Marc believe he’s going mouse hunting.”

  “Good … good,” Carl answered. “Keep me in the loop. I’m going to use the witness to back my cleaning-up-the-world image.”

  “I figured.” Tyler ended the call, taking a moment to look at the waves crashing on the shore. He felt satisfied for the first time in a long time. It was a welcome feeling, one he’d gone to a great deal of effort to achieve. Carl Davis was the kind of man he could work with. Jeb Ryland had just been a stepping stone. Tyler didn’t miss him. In fact, it was rather nice to recall how the bastard had been shot by his own wife. Sure, the media had broadcast a different tale, but that was their job, to believe what men like he and Carl Davis told them to.

  Ricky Sullivan would help him make a new story, one that told the end of Marc Grog. After that was finished, he could take his place in Washington, that position he’d devoted himself to earning for the past decade. It was about damned time he got his reward.

  No one was going to stand in his way. Not even an innocent like Ginger Boyce. He’d worked too damned hard and sold far too much of his soul. It wasn’t personal, just the way life was.

  It was a competition sport, and he intended to win.

  * * *

  “Interesting bit.”

  Saxon was used to Thais Sinclair’s husky drawl of a voice. The female agent was sex appeal covered in creamy skin but today, he discovered it less noticeably. He frowned and realizing that was directly linked to meeting Ginger.

  Since kissing her, you mean.

  “What have you got?” he asked Thais to distract himself from the entire idea of what it had felt like to have Ginger in his arms.

  “A hit on your witness’s work file. Someone is reading up on her.”

  Saxon grunted and felt his temper shift but for a different reason than he was accustomed to. This wasn’t about the mission goal. It didn’t have anything to do with professionalism and someone’s lack of attention to details. It was very personal.

  “Someone is digging into Ginger’s information,” Saxon clued them in. The tension tightened in the room.

  He was down the hallway and around the corner before he thought much about it and only gave her a quick rap on the bedroom door before he was pushing it in.

  * * *

  “What are you doing?”

  Ginger looked up, startled out of her moment of stolen bliss to see Saxon staring at her like he’d walked in on her sacrificing a goat. She had to clamp her jaw shut so that a snort of amusement didn’t make it past her lips. She’d startled him, and by now, she knew for certain it was a rare achievement. But that wasn’t the real reason she fought back the urge to smile. No, the truth was, she rather liked knowing he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “I am taking a bubble bath.” She spoke each word slowly and pushed one of her feet up into view above the mound of suds.

  “No shit.”

  He suddenly stepped into the room all the way and shut the bathroom door. But he froze, clearly undecided on his next action.

  “The bedroom door was closed,” she offered before looking up at the stars. “And there is no shade to be pulled tight over the skylight. So, I was making the best of my circumstances.”

  “I’m responsible for your safety, Ginger. Any door between us will be opened. You need to be prepared for that.”

  She shifted, and the water moved, dislodging a portion of the suds shielding her from his view. For a moment, his attention shifted, lowering to the surface of the water, his lips thinning in a way that fascinated her because it sent a surge of heat straight though her core.

  “Right,” she cooed softly, drawing his gaze back to hers as he pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white. “There is no personal space in safety.”

  He gave her a nod of approval while she basked in the sensation of knowing she was teasing him. She liked the feeling a whole lot. It was becoming addictive and showing all the signs of blossoming into a habit.

  Yup, she was going to hell, but it seemed she was going to enjoy the trip.

  “You should keep your clothes on,” he instructed her. “One of my men might have come in here.”

  “Sure thing,” she said, her voice back to that husky tone that seemed to awaken whenever she was near him. Ginger watched its impact on him right before she stood up.

  “Not—”

  She was already on her feet, suds slithering down her body. He went rigid. Something dangerous glittered in his eyes. She recognized that fact on some deep level where instinct ruled. A shiver went down her spine in response but not one born of fear. Something awakened inside her that liked what it saw in his eyes.

  It was the thing that had filled her restless night and the reason he’d taken that second kiss. No matter what, she didn’t want to look back and have to admit she’d been too chicken to enjoy the time she’d been in his company.

  “You have no idea what you’re doing, Ginger,” he warned her softly.

  She believed him. Hell, it was more than that, it was more like she understood on some deep level that she’d only been toying with him. Saxon wasn’t playing anymore. He stepped toward her, and she felt frozen in place by the heat flickering in his eyes. It transfixed her
, filling her with a confidence she’d never experienced before.

  He liked what he saw.

  “I don’t,” she answered without thinking. “And yet … I think maybe I have a better idea than you do. Sometimes you have to make the best of what life hands you.”

  He’d stepped up close, looking down at her from his greater height. His lips were twisted into a grin that was one hundred percent warning. She felt it rippling down her body, making her super aware of her bare skin. Her nipples drew tight, her clit beginning to throb.

  The guy aroused her on a scale she never even knew existed.

  “I know exactly what you’re doing, Ginger,” he warned softly. “You deserve better.”

  Locked inside of him was something very rare, the code of a gentleman. One that gave true meaning to the word honor.

  “You’re playing with fire,” he informed her through gritted teeth.

  He hooked her arm and pulled her to him, stepping up so that she collided with him. This time, he kissed her hard, claiming her mouth like he owned it. He was damned strong, stronger than she’d realized, but all that realization did was make her bold. It was a thing she had craved without being able to put a name on it. She flattened her hands on his chest, letting her fingers slip over the ridges of muscles beneath the pressed cotton of his shirt.

  And she kissed him back, matching him, opening her mouth and letting her tongue tangle with his. Need went clawing through her insides. Like a wave hitting the beach, it crashed over her, hitting every inch of her as she rose onto her toes to kiss him even harder. She wasn’t close enough, and his clothing frustrated her. She found the knot of his tie and tugged it loose, dipping her fingers into his collar and finding his skin at last.

  Saxon growled softly, the sound more of a compliment than any words might have been. He captured her nape, holding her in place as he ravished her, kissing her breathless as he pressed against her and let her feel just how hard his cock was. She made a half-sound of surprise, but, honestly, it wasn’t one formed in shock. It was approval and encouragement, but he pulled back, opening his eyes and letting her see the glitter of demand flickering there. But there was also a flicker of determination to resist.

  “I am playing with fire.” She popped two more buttons on his shirt. “Tell me, do any of your friends with benefits make you feel like this?”

  His jaw tightened, but so did his hand in her hair. She felt him capturing her, making her his prisoner as his eyes narrowed.

  “No.”

  It was a short, clipped word and Saxon acted on the admission immediately. He shifted and scooped her up. Ginger gasped and felt his chest rumble with a chuckle as he carried her to the bed like she weighed as much as a puppy.

  That was the last clear thought she had as he straightened up after placing her on top of the comforter. He tore his shirt off, stilling her breath. A moment later, he was pushing her back, pressing his bare torso onto hers, a connection that felt like a collision between two locomotives.

  She moaned, overwhelmed by the sheer bliss. Her body had somehow dialed up her senses, every little touch coming across in booming, deafening high volume.

  “No, I’ve never wanted them like I want you,” he growled as he hovered over her for a moment.

  He’d pressed her onto her back, and she rebelled against that, reaching for him. She flattened her hands on his chest, a little hum of appreciation escaping her lips as she slid her fingers over the sculpted ridges and up to his neck.

  “Damn,” he growled as he stretched his neck back, closing his eyes as he let her stroke him.

  Ginger lifted up and off the bed so that she could press a kiss against his throat and once she started, she needed more, much more. Saxon groaned and rolled back as she went after him, but he gave as good as he got, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples with his thumbs before he was twisting and capturing one of those tight peaks between his lips.

  She gasped, sensation making her arch because it felt like her nipple was hardwired straight into her spine.

  “That’s it baby,” he cooed as he looked up her body while cupping her breast. “Let’s both play with fire.”

  Or in her case, let it consume her.

  Which was just fine by her.

  Saxon recaptured her nipple, drawing it deep inside his mouth. She twisted because there was just so much need churning inside her. A need to touch him and be touched in return. He was a feast for her senses.

  Saxon released her nipple, sending a little shaft of frustration through her. It sharpened the edge of her need, making her feel mean. Like she needed to take what she craved.

  “Not a chance baby,” he cupped her shoulder and pressed her back onto the bed. “I’m in control here.”

  Ginger shifted, bringing her knee up so that it brushed his cock. “I don’t think so.”

  He stiffened, and she took the opportunity to reach down and pop open his waist band. A moment later she’d slid her hand inside his pants, seeking out his length.

  “Trying to get me by my tender parts?” he asked as she succeeded.

  His eyes narrowed, his lips thinning as she drew her hand along his cock. It was a primal look, one that betrayed how much he liked what she was doing. So she sent her hand back down to the base and pulled her fingers along it again.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  Ginger smiled with victory, but his eyes weren’t as completely closed as she’d thought. His lips curled into a grin that was far from friendly. It was pure intent and there was a glint in his eyes that matched when he pegged her with a hard look.

  The bed rocked as he pushed back and somehow landed between her thighs.

  “You are too damned strong, know that?”

  He snorted at her as he looked up her body and slowly stroked the inside of her thighs. “Fire is base, baby. Play with it and you’re going to get the animal.”

  Yes, please …

  There was a crazy twist of excitement going through her belly. She had never been so conscious of just how much she wanted to have sex before. She felt empty, so needy she would have begged for his touch, but he didn’t make her. No, Saxon read her face like a book, teasing the curls on the top of her slit before he spread her folds and leaned down to lap her.

  She cried out, the contact so jarring, climax almost burst through her.

  “Easy,” he’d pulled away just a bit, and his breath was still hitting her flesh. “Too loud and we’ll have company.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “I forgot.”

  “Good,” Saxon sounded more satisfied than she’d ever heard. He was teasing her sex with his fingertips. Stroking her everywhere, especially on her clit where she needed his touch the most. She looked down at him, desperate to discover why he held off. Their gazes locked, giving him a moment to show her the glitter of victory in his eyes before he leaned down and sucked her clit.

  It was jarring, jolting, another collision between their flesh. Only this time, she felt the impact, clearly experienced the way she was being pushed to her limits before everything broke apart. She was clawing at the bedding and then at his hair. She couldn’t breathe as the orgasm ripped through her. All she could manage was to twist as it consumed her.

  It held her tight for a moment that felt like an eternity and then dropped her in a panting heap back into reality where she ended up staring at the skylight above the bed while she sucked in breath.

  “I want you to forget every man but me.”

  Saxon was moving up to cover her. Somehow, she still needed him just as desperately as she had before, and he didn’t deny her. She felt his cock teasing the wet folds of her slit, gasping as those tender bits of skin registered him slipping between them, pushing to her opening, and deeper still, until he was deep inside her.

  He groaned, but, honestly, it felt like the sound came out of both of them because of how in tune she was with him.

  “Every … fucking … one of them.” He growled as he started to move. “Forget the
m all.”

  It would be simple. In that moment, all she felt was the way he stretched her to fit him. How hard every inch of him was and how close to the barrier of pain she was. So close that it fed her needs, increasing the churning inside her, until she was lifting her hips to make sure his thrusts slid deep and hard into her.

  But he was too controlled. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. The look on his face was primal. He wanted to command her, but he held himself in check. She found it an unbearable barrier, one she needed to rip away.

  “Harder,” she insisted.

  He shook his head, denying her that lapse in self-discipline. “I’m in control…”

  Ginger reached up between them, flattening her hands against his chest as he drove her near insane with the slow pace he set. Every thrust sent a ripple of pleasure through her but left her craving the wildness she glimpsed in his eyes.

  “Don’t … be … controlled…” She cupped his shoulders and curled her fingers into talons, scrapping him as she drew her hands down and over his pectorals.

  He growled at her.

  “I want … you…” she demanded. “Not the agent … assigned to … me.”

  She watched her words hit him. Pleasure brightened his eyes a moment before he caught her hands and pinned them to the bed next to her head.

  “Mine,” he snarled as he moved faster.

  He held her in place, but she rose to take each thrust. It was hard, and he didn’t hold back, pushing them both into another place where the only thing that mattered was the way they crashed into each other and the friction it created. Ginger felt herself teetering on the edge, and she strained toward him, ready to take the plunge into the building madness. She wanted him to be with her, so she bucked, straining up toward him to break his control. She watched it shatter in the same instant that she felt herself snapping. The wave they’d both been riding crested and crashed, rolling them in its powerful grip. The only solid thing was him, so she clung to him as they tumbled, pleasure encasing them and tossing them up onto the shore when it was finished.

  She was likely half dead but didn’t care.