The Hard Target, page 17
part #1 of Men of Delta Series
“Brandon?” I say. He looks up, and his face blanches when he sees the gun pointed at him. I holster the weapon. “Did you do a recon outside?” I ask him.
He’s still standing in the foyer, looking up at me.
“Yes,” he says. “All clear.”
“Wait in the car. I’ll be down soon.”
There’s a spark in his eyes as his lips twitch. “Exactly how long are you going to be?”
I guess Dora and I are an open secret now. “Not long,” I drawl, deadpan. “Just get back to your car and keep watch.”
Brandon grins and does a mock salute. I watch till he shuts the door on his way out.
Dora’s questioning eyes are on me again. They’re like laser beams scanning my mind, searching for answers. I can’t help but look back at her, mesmerized.
“I want to show you my bedroom,” she says huskily, and when she leans forward, I can’t resist kissing those soft pink lips. They taste like heaven. Her tongue runs along the inside of my lips, and when she opens her mouth, my tongue darts in, lashing against the inside of her mouth. She groans and rubs against my hardness, and my hands are on her ass again, drawing her in hard.
She breaks off to whisper against my ear, “Remember what happened in the car? We have unfinished business, right?”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
DORA
❦❦❦❦
“Unfinished business, huh?” Richter growls softly against my ear. His hand slips down, unbuttoning the top of my jeans with two practiced fingers then slipping down to my panties. Within seconds, his thumb is on my clit, and I feel another finger dip inside my soaking entrance. His thumb circles, and the thick finger moves in slightly then comes out again before playing with my wet folds.
I’m gasping, grinding myself on his fingers. One arm is thrown around his neck, his mouth buried in the hollow of mine. Somehow we walk backward till my back hits the wall. He trails kisses down my jaw and then the side of my neck. The finger slips inside me fully, stroking up and down, his thumb still circling the electric, engorged knob of my clit.
“Let’s go inside,” I manage to gasp. “Into my room.”
It’s almost impossible to break off. We seem glued together. He licks the base of my throat, then his hand comes up to cup my breast. We kiss again, and I put my hands on his shoulders. Grabbing his hand, I take him to the bedroom. I have a four-poster bed, and drapes hang at the bed head. Two sets of windows face the street and the back garden, and Richter helps me to pull the blinds down. The room is almost dark. We collide softly, in slow motion, with an unspoken urgency that has set our bodies on fire.
His hands are all over me again, lifting my top over my head then pulling down the straps of my bra. I unhook the bra and then groan as his hot mouth sucks a nipple, sending warm currents of pleasure radiating into my body. He scoops me up and puts me on the bed.
I lift my knees as he pulls the hem of my pink lace panties over my ankles then tosses them to the floor. I feel the wide expanse of his shoulders nudge my inner thighs apart. His hot breath is at the center of my pussy, then I feel his tongue lashing my clit with lick after hot lick. One finger is playing with the folds of my center, now so wet, but deliberately, he refrains from pushing it in. His mouth does the main work, sucking, nipping, and biting at my clit, teasing it with his tongue, sending quantum waves of pleasure rippling into my lower belly. Heat undulates from low down in my body, radiating upward in hot red blooms of pleasure and joy. My mouth is open, fingers clutching the bedsheets as if I’m going to rip them to shreds. My hips rise and rock, wanting more of his mouth, practically begging his fingers to thrust inside me.
When he does so, the feeling intensifies and takes me over. Two fingers thrust in and out of me in rhythm to the lashings of his tongue. He speeds up, and I’m moaning, sweating, writhing, floating, becoming a wet, slippery mess of pre-orgasm excitement as I call out his name and buck my pelvis wildly in his face. My hands are on the soft brown curls of his head, pushing him into me. Richter has a jaw like a machine, and the speed with which he lashes and laps at my silken folds, then alternates with flicking his tongue on my clit, all the while finger-fucking me to oblivion, brings the giant waterfall closer and closer. The heat gathers like rainclouds low down in my belly. I cry out his name one last time, and then I’m falling, flying, losing myself in the warm cascade of another glorious orgasmic Niagara.
Wet hair is plastered to my forehead, and my chest is heaving. I open my eyes when I hear the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped. Richter smiles and waves the condom at me.
“Gotta carry a spare one when you’re around.” He winks, the sultry grin on his face making my cheeks heat up again, thinking of what that mouth has been doing to my sex.
I watch his impressive length bob in the air, thick with veins, as he sheaths himself. He positions himself between my legs, and I feel the insistence of his raging erection pushing against my folds. But he doesn’t slide in. He leans over, and we kiss passionately. My hands caress his chest and shoulders then grip his bulging biceps hard. He kisses down my neck into my chest then sucks on a nipple as he slowly enters me. The combination of him sliding slowly in as his wicked tongue circles my nipple is intensely pleasurable, sending sparks of fire to my center. He increases his rhythm slowly, then sits up, holding my ankles up on his shoulders. He strokes into me hard and fast, kissing my legs, grunting with pleasure. His mouth opens and his eyes close as he slides his gorgeous dick into me, plunging deep inside my belly, branding me.
The speed grows, the heat spreads, and I feel the nebulous storm building to a crescendo inside me again. He starts to buck wildly, growing more inside me, and I feel his head bulging inside, stretching the condom sheath. He shouts my name and hammers into me so hard my butt is lifted off the bed. He buries himself in me one last time, and I can feel him spasming inside me, my pussy muscles doing the same to his dick as we come together in wave after wave of endless sexual delight.
He collapses next to me, gasping. We lie speechless for a while, sweaty but sated. My body feels light and airy, like I’m lying on a hot water bed. He’s the first to talk, raising himself on one elbow to look at me. Then he leans over to kiss me, and I love that moment after heated sex with Richter, when his tongue gently tastes mine, somehow cool and refreshing yet warm and saline at the same time, the taste of me still lingering in his mouth.
“Is there coffee in your kitchen?” he rumbles.
I run my hands through his hair then pull his face down for another kiss.
“Yes. But the milk might’ve gone off.”
He gets up and hops off the bed. The washboard muscles on his abdomen ripple and tense as he bends to find his clothes. I get dressed while Richter is downstairs. It’s nice to be back in my own home. Nothing replaces the comfortable sense of familiarity of being in my pad, where everything is arranged just the way I want it. I open the windows to let some fresh air in. The clothes inside my dresser are the same as I left them. Same with the shoe rack. My laptop hasn’t moved from its place on the table.
As I sort the room out, I smell cooking. The aroma of pancakes comes wafting up from the kitchen, and I grin to myself. I want to go downstairs just to see Richter in my kitchen, but I stop myself. He’s planning this as a surprise, so I might as well let him.
I still can’t use my phone, but I can use Richter’s. I power up the laptop to check my emails. Richter comes in, and when I turn around, he’s holding a wooden tray with two mugs of coffee, two plates heaped with pancakes, and a bowl of maple syrup. Cutlery gleams on the tray. The smell is heavenly.
“Breakfast is served,” my man says with a smile on his face that rivals the sunlight.
Did I just think my man?
Oh, why does this overpowering sense of happiness suddenly crush me? Seeing Richter standing in my room, holding that delicious tray of warm food, takes me deep into a mellow, fuzzy place. My heart aches all of a sudden. Richter stands there like a vision, bathed in a glow that seems to make my room brighter than it’s ever been.
What would it be like if Richter was living here? With me?
My head can’t even believe I’m having these thoughts. So far out they belong in an undiscovered galaxy. But I guess my heart has a way of stepping across different worlds as if the space between them didn’t exist. Right now, I’m there, basking in the dream of seeing Richter here all the time, always mine…
I blink and stare down at the floor. This feels like a dream, and I need to wake up. True, I’ve grown closer to him than I am to any other person except my best friend, Julia. My heart lurches against its ribcage. The emotion I feel right now is so true. So real. Like the goosepimples that rise up on my arms.
Could Richter be in my future? My throat seizes up with emotion as I watch him set the tray down gently on the table. He’s close enough to touch, and his strong, clean smell drifts over to me. I know the answer to that question. I can hear it like I can hear the air rasping in my lungs.
Yes.
And for the first time, I feel something stronger, deeper. It opens up inside me, like watching the sunrise over the ocean. I have no words to describe it, but the feeling is so strong I can’t ignore it.
When Richter kneels at my feet and looks at me with his gray eyes like smoky fire, I know what the feeling is. It’s undeniable, a pull that’s more than magnetic, a bond that is still new but more durable than the toughest diamond.
I’m falling in love with Richter Blane.
He rubs my thigh with one hand then kisses me lightly on the lips. I savor his touch, closing my eyes. It just feels so right.
“Hey,” he drawls, in that low rumble of his. “Hope you’re hungry.”
I nod happily. He puts the trays out, and he’s even got white napkins, which I store in the kitchen cupboard.
The first mouthful of pancake and syrup melts in my mouth. It’s delicious.
“So good,” I say between mouthfuls as we both tuck in. It’s a good thing there’s a heap of pancakes, as we’re both hungry, and Richter puts it away faster than I can.
“Can I call my family and Julia from your phone?” I ask when we’re done.
He thinks about it. “Letting them know is risky. If they’re under watch, then they could lead Viktor’s men straight here. I’d be keeping an eye on them if I was Viktor.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What if I tell Julia to follow a surveillance evasion route on her way down here?”
He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back. But then he becomes serious very quickly. The soft glimmer evaporates from his eyes, and his nostrils flare.
“This isn’t your world, sweetheart. And I don’t want it to be,” he says in a low voice. He tears his eyes away from me, looking out the window.
I reach for his hand to find it knotted into a hard fist, the veins rising on his skin. He doesn’t relax it when I touch him.
“Richter,” I say softly. “Look at me.”
When he does so, his grays are restless, and the irises darken. I strengthen my grip on his hand.
“I’m in this now. This is about me as much as it is about you.”
He sighs, shakes his head, and rolls those massive shoulders as he leans forward. My table creaks as he puts his large elbows on them.
“I know, darlin’. But this business is messed up. It always is.” He stares at me pointedly. “It’s like a can of worms that only opens from the inside. And often, you don’t know your friends from your enemies.”
I don’t know much about Richter’s work. But I am a journalist. I have some idea about how corrupt politicians can get and how people in power will do anything to forward their agenda. People like Richter lay down their lives for their country, but the people who send them to war are never who they seem to be.
I nod, stroking his hand. “You can’t trust anyone, right? Apart from your own group.”
A flicker of a smile crosses his lips. “Something like that. My men are like Cal to me: we’re all brothers.” The smile vanishes. “But we have a job to keep this country safe, and for that, we need to trust others as well.”
“And sometimes the lines can get blurred.”
He shrugs. “Yes. As long as—"
The phone on the table pings and vibrates. Richter looks at the number and frowns. “I gotta take this.”
He answers, listens, and the frown spreads down from the knot of his eyebrows to his tightening jaws.
“Coming over now,” he says then hangs up.
When I look at him expectantly, he shakes his head. “Guess you have a right to know. Samantha managed to find out where Jozdani’s son is.”
My eyes widen. “That’s great news, right? Now you can track down Jozdani’s ex-wife.”
He lays his palms on the table and stands, then looks at me contemplatively. “When I said found, I didn’t mean physically. They know who he is, but not where he is right now. But it’s new intel, and I’ll learn more at the office.”
I stand too. “I’m coming with you.”
He raises both hands. “Whoa. Easy. You’re safe here for now. Brandon will keep watch outside, and I’ll get another team to help him. I’ll be back as soon as the meeting’s over.”
I cross my arms across my chest. It doesn’t escape me that his eyes move down my chest as my arms accentuate the bulge of my breasts. It’s totally unintentional, but the lustful light that springs in Richter’s eyes is unmistakable. He has a slightly glazed look when he drags his eyes back up to my face.
“No way,” I say softly. “I’m coming too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
RICHTER
❦❦❦❦
I can see from the defiant upward tilt of her chin that she means business. This is a new side to Dora that I’m beginning to see more of. I like it. She’s confident, sassier. And it makes her sexy as hell. Just the way she stands, hips swung to the left, arms folded, full breasts invitingly raised, makes blood percolate all around my cock, making it twitch. I stare at her smoldering browns and swallow.
All I wanna do is pick you up and put you up on that bed. Again.
But I can’t think like that. Hell, thinking is hard when she stands so close to me. When she strikes that pose. I stare at her like an idiot, drinking her in with my eyes. Then I shake my head.
“Don’t make this difficult for me, sweetheart. I’ll let you know what’s happening, but I need to find out first.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Why can’t I be there? Not like I don’t know what’s going on already.”
“True, but that knowledge also puts you in danger.” My teeth clamp down when I think of just how much risk she could be facing right now. It doesn’t bear thinking about. And there it comes again—that horrible feeling that turns my desire to ash and dust. It’s me who dragged you into this mess. No one but me. If it hadn’t been…
Dora interrupts my thoughts by stepping closer. When our eyes meet, she leans into me. It’s just so comfortable to feel her body against mine, softly cushioned against my chest. Her arm goes around my waist, and she hugs me, head tucked under my chin.
My eyes close. This feels so right. And that feeling—the thought of Viktor and his men now out there roaming the city for her—is so wrong. A cold hand wraps around my heart, and my eyes flare open. Anger and frustration suddenly burn in my bloodstream.
I wish it wasn’t this way. But it is. Because this is what I do. Every day of my life, I’ve dodged bullets and hunted animals like Viktor.
How can I expose Dora to this life more than what I’ve done already?
Somewhere deep inside me, a voice whispers like a lonely echo in a deserted house. When I’m with her, I feel happiness that brings me a peace I’ve never known. My life has been one of strife and restless action. No woman but Dora has made me feel complete, safe, secure.
So am I holding on to her for my own selfish reasons?
Because if I really wanted what was best for her, should I not let her go?
Once Viktor is eliminated, so is the risk to her life. And once that’s happened, she needs to return to a normal existence.
I owe her that much.
The sadness comes over me suddenly, like shutters drawn against the sunlight, and leaves me in a dark, cold place.
For her own good, I should let her go.
The words knock against my skull, reverberating in the empty corridors of my bare heart.
My eyebrows crease up, and I feel intense pain stabbing me, cleaving my heart in two clean halves.
My body must feel stiff, because I feel her moving against me.
“What’s the matter?” she asks, her eyes now soft again, that mellow, melting chocolate that draws me deep into her soul. It’s as if I can see into her mind, and with that frank, questioning stare, she can untangle the knots in mine. Before I know it, her hands come up and cup my face.
She smiles slightly and just looks at me.
I swear to god, I can feel teardrops in the backs of my eyes. I’m drowning, sinking slowly, throat closing with emotion.
I’m a hard son of a bitch, right? Give me a gang of terrorists to hunt down out in the deserts of nowhere. Give me days without water, nights without food, only the desire for danger burning like molten lava in my blood.
But don’t give me this beautiful woman, a heaven-sent angel who has transformed my life. She’s my sunset, my evening breeze, my blue sky and dappled diamonds that twinkle in the night sky, eternally out of reach. She’s become my work and my rest, the sigh that settles down my pain. She’s the dream in my sleep.
No, I don’t deserve her.
I squeeze my eyes shut. My hands are like claws, shaking, as they reach up to cover hers. With light pressure, I drag them off my face.
What can I say?
I’m so damn scared of losing you in the future that it’s best if we lose each other now?
