The Hunted One (Falcon Falls Security), page 11
She eyed the mess in the kitchen. She hadn’t even prepped the biscuits for the oven, which meant she was out of it for sure.
“They were, but thanks to Gray’s government contacts, as well as A.J.’s wife’s friends at the Bureau, they didn’t give us a hard time. Asked some questions, then bagged the bodies. I think they were instructed not to bother us, but Gray secured photos and fingerprints so we can keep at it.”
“‘We’? Are you still helping? This isn’t your responsibility. I don’t want you in any more danger.”
“Now that Beckett’s daughter and Ella are heavily protected, thanks to Carter’s additional reinforcements, I’d like to work the case. Help out.”
Work the case? She blinked in confusion. “I know this feels personal for you, but you don’t need to do this.”
“I want to,” he said emphatically. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’d never want you to be in a mess like this, but I kind of miss doing work that feels, well, important.”
Ah, her heart. She understood that feeling, and she also knew it was one reason she was certain Marcus would have served until the day he . . .
He did die, Savanna.
“You’re important, regardless of your work. I hope you know that.”
“He misses the danger,” Shep called out loudly.
“And running into burning buildings is safe, huh?” Jesse countered sarcastically to Shep.
She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder while preparing the biscuits for the oven. “Thank you,” she said once the boys were done with their brotherly-like bickering. “Just don’t get yourself hurt. I couldn’t handle that.”
“Roger that. I already got an earful from Rory. She’s dying to talk to you, so she’s going to buy a disposable phone and call you soon on Griffin’s phone.”
Jesse’s sister, Rory, was another one of her best friends. They’d grown close over the years, despite the fact that, until recently, Rory had been a globe-trotting adventurer. Now she trained military K-9s. “I’d love to talk to her.” Maybe Rory could make sense of the insane feelings she found herself having for a man she barely knew.
“We’ll call as soon as we know more,” Jesse promised.
“Sounds good,” she said as she placed the biscuits in the oven and ended the call.
Once she cleaned up the kitchen, Savanna headed for the garage to let Griffin know the food was about ready. She wasn’t prepared to see the man standing there shirtless in his black jeans and boots, laces untied, with a streak of oil on his cheek and chest.
Fuck. Me.
No, like literally.
Please.
Her thoughts were blasting on full volume in her head, so loud that she was terrified she’d actually said them.
The sight of him standing there bare chested, tatts on display, all sweat streaked and dirty, clutching a wrench in his veiny hand . . . She was experiencing what the heroines in her historical romance novels referred to as “the vapors.” The feeling that at any moment, she might be overcome by the hero’s sheer manliness and sexual intensity. Savanna braced herself against the doorframe like a wilting flower, her back holding open the door behind her. How in the world was she expected to do anything with him standing down there looking at her like that?
“You got dirty.” Her voice cracked as she forced the words from her dry throat.
He looked down at his chest before his eyes traveled back to meet hers. “From the looks of it, so did you.” He tipped his chin toward her shoulder.
“What?” She slanted her attention to where a kitchen towel lay draped over her shoulder, forgotten. She palmed her face with it, assuming there was flour on her cheeks. “Might need another shower.” For multiple reasons.
“A shower, huh?” He set down the wrench, or whatever that thing was, and started her way, which had her heart pumping harder in her chest.
He climbed the few steps and braced a palm on the wall alongside where she stood in the doorway like a startled Bambi. Here was her buck.
“Yeah, I, um, feel dirty.” Why did every conversation they had somehow go back to a read-between-the-lines sexual one? He made her feel like a good girl turned bad whenever he pointed those dark brown eyes at her. But thoughts of being naughty with this man felt amazing.
“You do, huh?”
She kept the towel clutched tightly in both hands, her back still propping open the door behind her, but at least she was able to stand without support. She may not be a wilting flower anymore, but Griffin’s bulging bicep stretched out next to her face wasn’t helping matters.
What she wanted to do right now was reenact the fantasy that’d played out in her head earlier and pretend Griffin was one of the characters in her novels, which meant he’d be fictional, and she wouldn’t get hurt in the end.
But he is real. That’s the problem. Too, too real.
And hard.
Everywhere. So hard.
“You okay, Sugar?” He was testing her limits. Maybe his own too. The way he leaned in close to her ear, his breath floating through the air to send tingling sensations along her neck. “You seem off.”
“I should say so, what with everything going on.” She tipped her chin and closed her eyes when he skated his mouth so close to her skin she thought he might steal a taste.
“You’ve held yourself together better than most would in your position.” Savanna felt his heat disappear, and when she opened her eyes, he’d pulled away, taking his spine-tingling lips with him.
But oh, he was struggling to restrain himself. His jaw was clenched tight as if he were holding on by a thread right now.
Never in her life had she experienced such raw sexual attraction to someone. It hurt to admit, but this wasn’t something she’d even had with Marcus, and if she hung on to that thought for much longer, she’d plunge into a pool of guilt and drown in it.
But right now, she just wanted to be here in the moment with this man. A man that made her feel like he was a book boyfriend come to life. And that happily-ever-afters were possible outside the world of literature.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and she wanted him to remove her clothes with his teeth and make her come. That had to mean something. Was this somehow Newton’s Law of Universal Gravitation coming into play? He was a force attracting her to him, and she was growing powerless to stop the pull. After all, how does one fight gravity unless you were designed to soar?
“Savanna?”
“Yes,” she breathed out, noticing his bicep flex.
“I’m not romance-novel material, I promise,” he murmured darkly as if reading her thoughts and feeling the need to send her a warning—a clear if-you-cross-the-line-with-me-I’ll-hurt-you in the tone of his voice. “At best, I could only ever be a side character. Never the lead act.”
“Side character?” she whispered, her heart constricting. She could relate to that. “You really think that?” How could this man ever be a side anything, though? And no way would he be the villain. He was a hero, and heroes deserved love.
“It’s true.” His brows tightened, and he pushed off the wall with his palm and took a step back.
“How do you know?” She stepped away from the door and moved closer to him, so close she had to look up to see him.
His Adam’s apple moved as he studied her with a contemplative look in his eyes. “Because it’s all I want.”
“And what if that’s all I want too? To be a side character?” I’m lying, aren’t I? “Or all that I’m capable of after . . .” For some insane reason, she drew her thumb across the streak of oil on his chest.
He swiftly captured her wrist and lifted her hand between them, and she gulped as she looked up into a pair of dark eyes. “No.” He tipped his head to the side and frowned. “You, of all people, deserve a happily-ever-after.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in those.”
His calloused hand was so warm as he gently and carefully held her wrist. “Not for my story, but I sure as hell hope it’s true for yours.” He released her wrist, turned, and went back down the steps.
“I won’t get a second shot at love,” she found herself sputtering, and his body went still.
This man had been assigned to keep her safe, and he was still a stranger, but she felt such a deep and unexplainable connection to him.
If this were a movie, Griffin would have received one of Marcus’s organs or something in a weird twist of fate after her husband’s death, and that would explain her pull to him. But Marcus’s body was never found. So that’s not plausible, regardless. And she really needed to focus on reality.
But still, there had to be an explanation as to why she felt so strongly for a man she hardly knew. Wasn’t it worth exploring? Even if it was only between the sheets?
“So, um.” She couldn’t believe she was going to say this or even had the guts to . . . “If you ever want to try something different for a therapeutic distraction,” she rasped around a tight swallow, her stomach aching with the need to be touched by him, “you know where to find me.”
Chapter Eleven
Griffin set his hands on either side of the doorjamb and bowed his head. Then tried to pull himself together and figure out his next steps before he charged into the house and fucked this woman senseless like he was fairly certain she’d invited him to do twenty minutes ago.
Forget the fact that it was highly unprofessional and there were probably rules against it—well, there would be if the company ever became official with an HR department. She was vulnerable. In danger. And a widow. Crossing that line was not only inappropriate, it was also dangerous. He was supposed to be protecting her life, not screwing it up. And despite what she’d said, he knew she wanted to fall in love again. A romance fan who didn’t want romance in her own life? He doubted that.
Savanna was most definitely not destined to be a side character. She was the leading lady all the way. It had nothing to do with how gorgeous she was on the outside because he’d seen her heart. She wore it on her sleeve with virtually everything she did. Her concern for her friends, even her shady brother-in-law, was selfless. And it was obvious she put her heart into her baking as well as her café.
But there was also this light around her, and he swore he saw . . .
When he was a Ranger stationed in Iraq, before joining the Unit, an IED killed one of the guys on his team. At the time, Griffin was sure he was hallucinating when a light appeared over his friend’s lifeless body like heaven was taking his soul right before Griffin’s eyes.
The desert heat. The mourning of his friend. The tragedy of it all. That’s how he’d explained what he’d witnessed as merely a hallucination.
But sometimes, when he looked at Savanna, even that first moment when their eyes locked through Jesse’s kitchen window, no less, he saw a bright orb of light, or maybe it was called an aura, around her. He didn’t always see it, but he knew it was there.
What if it was Marcus surrounding her like a protective shield?
I’m losing my mind again. Too early to drink, and he wouldn’t drink on the job, anyway, but he needed to relieve the pressure building in his body before he ignored all the warnings in his head and surrendered to his desires.
Griffin removed his boots and went inside to search her out, to look her in the eyes and tell her flat out that nothing would ever happen between them. Long ago, he’d vowed never to break a woman’s heart, and he’d be damned if he reneged on that vow with this particular woman.
He went into the kitchen and found Savanna had set the biscuits on the counter to cool, but she was nowhere in sight. He sure as hell hoped she hadn’t gone back to his dad’s office for one of the romance books on the shelf. Why’d his father torture himself by keeping those books displayed?
Once upstairs, he walked down the hall to the guest room, prepared to knock on the door, but refrained when he heard a sound inside.
A small cry or whimper had him leaning in and listening. Holy hell. He took a deep, bracing breath before raising both hands, now clenched into fists, to gently set them against the door. His entire body was now ramrod straight, including his dick. Savanna was touching herself, wasn’t she?
“Griffin,” she cried. “Harder.” The words were strained as if she were on the brink of an orgasm, but they were quickly followed by a soft “yes” that he barely made out.
She’s thinking about me.
Not Marcus.
Me.
He quietly stepped away from the door and ran his hand over the crotch of his jeans as his cock strained against the material.
How was he supposed to look this woman in the eyes and tell her they had to keep their hands off each other after hearing that? How could he face her without giving away the barely controlled desire simmering in his veins with all of the things he wanted to do to her? Harder? Yeah, he could give it to her any way she wanted and then some.
He walked down the hall to his own room, locked the door, and quickly removed his jeans and briefs. Then he went directly to the bathroom, climbed into the shower, and cranked on the water. He didn’t even care that the water started out ice cold because if he didn’t release this pent-up desire fast, he was going to do something dangerous. Or stupid. Probably both.
He took hold of his cock, imagining it was her hand instead that wrapped around him, brushing her thumb through the precum on his crown, punishing him with slow, gentle strokes before sinking to her knees and taking him between her lush lips. Her warm, wet tongue circling his hard shaft while she looked up at him with those hazel eyes . . . perfection.
Griffin. Harder. Yes. Her words unfolded in his mind once again as he stroked himself, imagining her taking him deep as he thrust into that wicked mouth of hers. As he fucked the sass out of her. But who was he kidding, he loved that sass and would want it back.
He slammed one hand onto the tiled wall inside the small tub where he stood, the water raining down over him, and bit down on his back teeth as he jerked and came hard. The relief of it soothed the ache in his chest—a hell of a lot more therapeutic than baking or changing oil.
But he wanted that relief with her. With the woman he’d just told himself he couldn’t have.
He shook his head, angry for reasons he wasn’t even sure he understood, but the tension was already building inside of him at the fact he knew the longer they were stuck together, the harder it’d be for him to behave. To not seek her out, as she’d all but requested of him, so she wouldn’t have to “go it alone” anymore like she said she’d done for a long time.
Shower finished, Griffin stood at the sink and swiped the steam from the mirror to find his eyes. “No,” he ordered himself. “Don’t do it.” She’s still married in her heart. He’d have to keep reminding himself of that. Some-fucking-how.
He put on a clean, white button-up shirt and new jeans before starting for the stairs, hoping she was still in her room, so he didn’t have to face her quite yet, but her door was open as he passed, and he smelled a fresh brew of coffee.
Savanna clocked him the moment he rounded the corner of the kitchen, and a blush immediately crawled up her golden skin. “You showered.” Her attention skated over his body for a moment, and was she remembering how she’d touched herself while thinking of him not too long ago?
Because now he was, damn it.
“I was dirty, remember?” And needed to get off after I heard you moan my name.
“Right.” She lifted a biscuit from the platter, one of his mother’s favorites from what he remembered, and she started toward him. “Here. Taste yourself.” She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. “I mean, taste your work. You did good.”
When her stunning hazel eyes focused back on him, he witnessed her shaky exhale as she extended what felt like a peace offering.
Instead of taking it from her, he leaned in and took a bite. Their gazes locked as she brought her other hand beneath his mouth to catch the falling crumbs. The buttery biscuit nearly dissolved in his mouth, and damn, it was good. “Mm.” He smiled and pulled away. If he kept staring into her beautiful eyes, he might not be able to control himself.
“Told you.” She handed him the rest of the biscuit before heading back into the kitchen.
He turned away from her, needing to, you know, breathe.
The drapes were open now, showing dark clouds had gathered in the sky. “It’s going to storm.”
“Yeah, that came out of nowhere.” She joined him where he now stood by the window.
“I’ll go do another security check before the storm hits. Check all of the sensors and cameras out there,” he said after polishing off the rest of the biscuit. “We should hear some news soon. When I spoke to Carter in the garage, he believed he was on the verge of getting intel from the men.”
“From what I’ve heard about Carter, I’m surprised it’s taking this long.” A small smile touched her mouth for a brief moment.
“Blame your friend’s brother, Beckett. Both he and Gray, are schoolboys who keep a rein on Carter’s interrogation techniques. They keep checking to make sure the two men still have all their fingers and teeth.” He was talking about torture and smiling. What is wrong with me?
“So are you naughty like Carter or a schoolboy like Gray?” Savanna’s brow arched as if this was another challenge.
“I’m trying to be good,” he nearly hissed, knowing damn well she’d just tossed him more sexual innuendo. He’d never had such a problem keeping himself in line before. It was . . . strange. “So, I should probably head outside.”
Her lips rolled inward as her attention remained on his mouth for a moment. “Jesse’s sister is going to call soon. Mind if I hang on to your phone a bit longer?”
“Sure.” He smiled. “I have nothing to hide.” He cleared his throat and started past her, and she trailed behind him.
“Does Carter believe me?” Savanna asked as he opened the front door to the sound of the sky beginning to rumble. It was eleven hundred hours, but the dark clouds covering an angry sky made it seem like it was early evening.
