Resurrection, page 14
part #1 of Redemption Harbor Series
“Hell, yeah,” he murmured against her mouth before pulling back slightly to look at her. Keeping his gaze pinned to hers, he shifted his hips until his thick length was positioned right at her opening.
She tried to slide down on him, but he held her immobile, holding her hips tight.
“Mine.” The word was a savage growl.
Yours. Now. Always. He owned her, something he had to know. Otherwise she’d never have sacrificed everything for his safety. Still, she couldn’t force the word out.
Releasing her hips, he thrust upward, sinking deep inside her. She sucked in a sharp breath as he filled her completely. She wanted to ride him, but he moved quickly, flipping them so he was on top.
She shouldn’t be surprised. Sometimes he had to be in control. And she was okay relinquishing it. Especially now when all his muscles were pulled taut and there was something wild in his green eyes. She recognized that look and savored it.
With his gaze pinned to hers, caging her against the bed with his big body, he pulled almost all the way out, with just the head of his cock at her entrance.
Her inner walls clenched, wanting to be filled by him. “No teasing,” she rasped out.
His dark expression said he wasn’t teasing. Far from it. “You’re not leaving me again.” The words seemed to be torn from his throat.
She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t, that she couldn’t leave him again, but yeah, the words just weren’t coming.
Growling, he crushed his mouth to hers again as he thrust hard inside her. She lost herself with him, in the rhythm of their bodies. With her legs and arms wrapped around him as he filled her, she never wanted to let go.
He’d owned her for far longer than she’d ever admitted to him. To herself. She’d tried to keep her distance in the beginning, to deny what she felt for him, what he made her feel, damn him. Because the thought of losing him, it sliced her up inside.
When his hand reached between their bodies and teased her clit, she was already so far gone that falling over the edge was inevitable. Her orgasm punched through her like a tsunami, sending spiral after spiral of pleasure through her until it was too much.
His own climax followed immediately, and when he emptied himself inside her, she wrapped even tighter around him, holding him close. She never wanted to let him go.
She rubbed her cheek against his, smiling at the feel of his stubble. “You need to shave,” she murmured.
“Maybe I’ll grow it out.”
“Hmm.” That could be sexy. Everything he did was.
Groaning slightly, he rolled off her but didn’t go far. He stretched out next to her and she curled up to him, throwing a leg over his hips as she buried her face into his chest.
The scent of him was masculine, earthy, and she’d missed it. “I need to say something,” she murmured against his skin.
“Okay.” He had an arm around her, was idly stroking a hand down her spine.
“I’m…not going to change who I am.” She pulled back so she could look at him as she spoke, but didn’t put any real distance between them. She just wanted to make sure she had his full attention right now. “The way I was raised shaped me in ways that make me a little different, and I’m okay with that. But I’ll probably always have inappropriate suggestions—like feeding dead bodies to pigs instead of freaking out and wanting to call the cops.” Mary Grace had looked at Skye with a tad bit of horror and she hated to admit that it bothered her. Because she liked Mary Grace. And now Skye wondered if her suggestion had bothered Colt. Skye had always embraced who she was, but she knew she could be awkward in certain situations. Especially if she let her guard down and was herself around others. It was why she’d had so few friends over the years.
“I don’t want you to change. I love who you are. Weirdness and all.”
“You say that now—”
“No, I’ll say that always. We fit each other. I love that you automatically know how many exits are in any room, that you can build any number of explosive devices with household items—that you carry around C4 the way most women carry around lipstick. I’ll always worry about you, because I love you. But because of who you are, I know you can take care of yourself, and that eases something inside me. I like how capable you are. It’s one of the sexiest things about you. And the pig thing was a good suggestion. I should have thought of it.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
“That’s it?”
She hadn’t expected that answer, but she loved it, and now felt lighter inside somehow. “I like how capable you are too. It’s sexy as anything. Even if I can shoot better than you.”
He pinched her butt lightly, the grin on his face making her smile in return. She wanted to stay where they were for the rest of the night, but knew they couldn’t. There would be very little rest for them. They had too much to do.
“Want me to join you in the shower before we head down to grab food?” After that, they’d go to his father’s house, something she knew he wasn’t looking forward to.
“Yes, but no. Because we’ll never make it if you do that, and I want to get on the road to my dad’s soon.”
“You’re probably right.” Though she didn’t want to, she pushed up, ready to clean up and get dressed.
But Colt pulled her back to him for a long, hard kiss that she felt all the way to the tips of her toes. Just like the first kiss they’d shared. Only now she was completely bonded to him. There would be no walking away again.
* * *
Mark Gianni used a backdoor channel to slip into the Agency’s system. Even though he’d retired, he’d taken a handful of login codes from various coworkers who were none the wiser. Some had changed in the last couple months so he’d lost access with them, but he still had two codes left. If he was ever caught, he’d be sent to prison for life. But he wasn’t using a computer linked to him, and unfortunately he was only able to do surface searches because of the lower security clearance levels.
Scanning files, he narrowed in on one linked to the Ramirez cartel. Everything about that rescue was bothering him. Because he didn’t know enough about it, and the woman involved was Mary Grace Jackson. But he still had to cover his bases.
His heart rate accelerated when he saw Colt Stuart’s name tagged on a file. He’d never worked the Coahuila region or much of Mexico at all. Colt’s focus had been on South America, though he’d done some work in the Middle East as well because of his military background.
He opened the file, scanned what he could—because a good portion of it was redacted. He could read through the lines well enough, however.
Colt shouldn’t have been in the region at all, but he’d reached out to David Ramirez. For…some reason. He closed the file down, then scanned for any other mention of Stuart and found one about the rescue. Not done by an Agency asset or the Agency. And it was being kept quiet.
Once he was certain there wasn’t anything else he could use, he logged out with his stolen credentials, then turned the computer off.
Mark hadn’t talked to Colt in months. After Skye’s funeral, he’d called him, but Colt had only gotten back to him months later, claiming he’d been busy. After her death, Colt had changed.
Enough time had passed that he should be over her now. Skye had made him weak. To be truly effective, Colt couldn’t afford to have any attachments that might hold him back. He was already a star at the Agency and one day, Mark wanted to recruit him to work with him.
He was already raking it in and if he ever managed to steal that bioweapon, he’d have enough money to do whatever he wanted once he sold it to the highest bidder. And he knew exactly who would buy it from him: North Korea. Or the Russians. Either one worked for him.
Mark wasn’t under any illusions. He knew that Colt wouldn’t go total dark side, so he’d have to lie about some of their dealings, convince him that working together would be better than working for the “greater good.” At one time Mark had believed in it, but then one of his partners had been captured and the Agency had hung him out to dry. As if all those years of service had meant nothing.
That could have been Mark. It could have been anyone. After that, Mark had just bided his time, waiting until he could retire, taking as much information with him as possible when he did. Because information was power.
It was how he’d forced Skye Arévalo to steal for him, to break her moral code. Almost everyone could be bought. But not someone like her, so he’d had to use leverage. He wouldn’t have killed Colt—but he would have killed Colt’s friends to get her to do what he wanted. And he’d planned to kill Skye once he’d gotten what he wanted too.
Stepping out onto the terrace from the master bedroom of the villa belonging to his alias Terrence Pace, he breathed in the crisp, night air and the scent of salt from the ocean. After going back and forth he decided to flat out call Colt. Mark needed to find out more about what he’d been doing in Mexico and who the woman was who’d rescued Mary Grace. It was probably no one he knew, but Mark had been in this business a long damn time. He had to watch his own back. Always.
He contemplated calling contacts at the Agency, but he didn’t want anyone to know he was asking questions. Calling Colt directly would be the smart thing to do.
Scrolling through the list of numbers he had for Colt, he dialed his Agency phone number using an encrypted phone. Since Colt wouldn’t know the number he might not answer. Mark prepared to leave a message.
“Yeah?” Colt answered on the third ring.
“It’s Gianni. How are you?”
There was a moment of silence. “Hey…been a long time.”
“Yeah.”
“Where’re you calling from?”
“Oh, this is a new cell number. I’m in Florida.”
“Nice. How’s retirement?”
“Eh, I keep busy.” Colt had no idea just how busy. No one did.
Colt gave a short, easy laugh. “I was surprised when you retired so early. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just got off the phone with a buddy from the Agency. Said there was some kind of issue with you and the Ramirez cartel. Said your friend, the doctor, is alive?” He’d known about Mary Grace Jackson being killed months ago and had reached out then as well. Colt had spoken to him, but had been distant as he grieved.
“Who’d you talk to?” Colt asked.
He snorted. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
There was another pregnant pause. “All right, look, my friend was rescued by a private company. I might have been involved, and much to my boss’s annoyance I reached out to the cartel to smooth things over. I’m taking time off to be with her and her husband before heading back in. So you heard right. There was an issue, but I’m okay. And I should have called you back months ago. I got the card and flowers you sent. I appreciate it. I was still struggling with…Skye’s death. Then to lose another friend. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind.”
“I understood. When your name came up, I just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay. If you want to head down to Miami, take a break before going back to work, I’ve always got a door open for you.” He didn’t have a place in Florida but he could make last-minute arrangements if Colt took him up on the offer. His main goal was to feel out Colt right now, to understand his frame of mind—and to find out if he was hiding something.
So far he’d detected nothing that alerted his inner radar.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“How are you doing with Skye’s death?” He should be over the bitch by now, but there was no accounting for taste.
“Dealing with it. Look, I’ve got to go, but send me your info. I’ll let you know if I decide to head to Miami before I go back to work.”
Once they disconnected, Mark decided he would do a little research of his own. See if he could find out what company had been behind the rescue. Because he couldn’t get the details of the attack on the cartel compound out of his mind. He’d seen that kind of destruction before, seen that layout of explosive devices in a very similar pattern—set up to create maximum damage. It could be nothing.
But his instinct was telling him it wasn’t.
Chapter 16
—I hope you never soften your edges.—
“You sounded believable,” Skye said to Colt as they hurried down the stairs. She couldn’t believe Mark Gianni had just called him. It made her itchy, ready to run again. She wouldn’t, but…the instinct was there.
“It took all the training I have.” His jaw was clenched tight as they entered the kitchen.
Where everyone was already eating homemade pizza. At the scent of baked bread, tomato sauce and oregano, her stomach rumbled and she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.
“Gianni just called me.” Colt’s words made everyone freeze around the long, rectangular, refurbished table.
Gage jumped up immediately. “You got a number or was it unknown?”
“It showed up. I doubt it’ll be trackable.” He handed his cell phone over to Gage nonetheless.
“Save me some food,” he said, racing from the room.
“I’ll get you both plates.” Mary Grace stood. “Sit, talk and then you can eat.”
Mercer took over, refusing to let his wife do anything, and Skye followed Colt’s lead, sitting on the long bench across from Mary Grace, Savage and Brooks.
“He know Skye’s alive?” Savage asked.
“I don’t know. He said he heard about Mary Grace’s rescue. From a contact at the Agency.”
Skye didn’t like the sound of that at all. “It feels like bullshit to me.”
“Yeah, agreed.” Colt’s expression was grim, but he gave Mercer a grateful smile as he placed plates in front of them. “That’s not the kind of thing that gets brought up in conversation. So my guess is he has access to files he shouldn’t have. Which could mean someone’s feeding him information or he hacked the system.”
“What did he want?” Savage asked.
“I think he was fishing for information. But he called to ‘check up on me.’ After MG’s death he sent condolence flowers and a card. He did the same thing for Skye.”
Skye placed a calming hand on his flexed forearm, needing to soothe him. She wanted to break Gianni’s face in half, but they needed to be calm now. To think rationally and take him down the right way.
He took a calming breath, set his hand over hers and squeezed gently. “I told him a private company was hired to rescue her. Eventually he’ll realize it’s bullshit because there won’t be a money trail—or a company. I also told him that I’m on vacation, spending time with you guys,” he said, nodded at Mary Grace and Mercer, “until I head back to work. He invited me to see him in Miami.”
“No way he’s there.” Skye took a bite of her pepperoni slice, unable to resist the smell any longer.
“You could call his bluff, tell him you want to see him in Miami,” Brooks said quietly. She’d learned quickly that he was the quietest out of all of them. Made sense, since he used to be a sniper and they often went for long stretches without any human contact.
“I thought about that. But he’s familiar with Miami. I don’t think he’s actually there, but he worked out of the Miami office for a decade. He’ll have the upper hand. Not to mention all the CCTVs there. Skye’s been careful with her appearance but I’d rather bait him somewhere where we control everything.”
“What about the bioweapon?” Savage asked.
“What about it?” Colt’s voice was tight as he stared hard at his friend.
Skye and Colt had given his friends most of the details of her disappearance, including her crime. It put her in a vulnerable position but if she was asking these people to shelter her, to help her potentially track down Gianni, she hadn’t wanted to hold anything back.
He held up his hands in mock defense. “All he knows, or thinks, is that she died and the weapon was destroyed, right? Well, what if we put out feelers—as if they’re from her—that she still has it and wants to sell it.”
Colt shook his head. “He’ll never believe she’d sell it.”
“That’s…not necessarily true,” Skye said. “What if he thinks I’m desperate for money? If the price is low enough, I’ll look desperate. And we won’t give my identity away. Just let it be known there’s a seller for it. A seller taking bids. He won’t be able to resist. He wants to sell it himself. If he thinks he could get it for a steal…” She lifted a shoulder.
Colt didn’t respond, just brooded and started eating. No one said anything and she wasn’t shy about polishing off the rest of her food. That was one of the first lessons she’d learned in the field. Eat when you can because you never know when you’ll get your next meal. In some cases that had proved to be very true.
* * *
“This is a nice neighborhood. Very respectable.” Skye glanced at the one and two-story homes they drove past. They weren’t cookie cutter, like in some subdivisions. The street lights were bright, illuminating the sidewalks and street. And it was very quiet, considering how late it was.
“Why do you sound surprised?” Colt’s voice was dry as they headed down the road to his dad’s home.
“Every time you talk about your dad, you have a tone. Like…I don’t know. I guess I expected his house to look like the Death Star or something.”
He barked out a laugh, which was what she’d intended. “He’s a good man. But he can be difficult. We always butted heads.”
So he’d said. Colt didn’t talk about his father much, but she knew his mom had died not long after he’d hit adulthood. Cancer. His father and mother had apparently had a complicated relationship as well. Colt had lived in Redemption Harbor with his mother, and even though they’d never officially divorced, his parents hadn’t lived together. Not truly. His father had worked in some sort of special division in the Corps—and been gone all the time, usually based in foreign countries. When he’d retired, he’d moved to Redemption Harbor a block from where Colt had grown up.
