Elite Ops: Black Jack Part 11

A second later she found herself on her back on the couch. The cool material of the cushions stroked against her shoulder blades as he came over her, his thigh pushing tight and hard between hers until it was wedged firmly against her p.u.s.s.y.

Her c.l.i.t swelled and throbbed with impatience. Her juices dampened the swollen folds and the silk of her panties, the friction causing her to grind her s.e.x against the hard muscle of his thigh.

This was what she needed.

Her neck arched as his lips moved to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his fingers pushing the material of her bra to the side until they encased the swollen mounds and pushed them closer together.

Tight hard nipples begged for his touch, his kiss. They ached for the stroke of his tongue and the suckling pressure of his hot mouth.

She had told herself on the drive over that she was coming here for answers, but that wasn't all she needed from him.

This was what had haunted her through the long, lonely nights for the past months. This hunger, this need for the touch of one man.

"d.a.m.n you," he growled, pressing closer to her, the hard length of his c.o.c.k, separated by their clothing, pressing into her lower stomach as one hand gripped her hip and urged her closer.

His lips were at her breast, stroking over a nipple, heating it with the slight velvety rasp of his lips as Lilly shuddered beneath him. The pleasure was like a stroke of electric heat along her nerve endings as it raced to her c.l.i.t to flare with vibrant sensation.

"d.a.m.n me?" she groaned back at him, her fingers burrowing into his hair. "You tortured me all night. This was all I could think about."

Well, the majority of it anyway. There was that pesky little detail that she was a suspected call girl, but that had only taken her imagination into other avenues. Avenues that had led directly to Travis's arms.

"That wasn't torture," he breathed against her nipple. "This is torture." His lips opened over her nipple, sucked it inside and sent her pulse racing.

His tongue was like a lash of pure sensation, licking, stroking, causing her body to arch as she fought to get closer to the incredible agony of pleasure.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, she was sure. She had never heard her friends describe s.e.x in a manner that could have warned her it could be this d.a.m.ned good.

How had she forgotten this? How had she lived without it for the past few months?

She couldn't live without it again. She needed him. She ached for him. It was like a ravening beast inside her, a hunger she couldn't deny any longer.

"So good," she whispered, a low wail of unsated desire echoing through her voice as her c.l.i.t began to throb in hard demand.

Her juices spilled from her p.u.s.s.y, dampening her panties beneath her slacks, causing her to rub herself tighter, harder, against the muscular thigh pressed against it.

His tongue rolled around the extended tip of her breast, his teeth raked against it, sending an incredible storm of sensation racing through her bloodstream.

One hand cupped the swollen curve of the breast he was suckling while the other smoothed down her side, to her hip, then her stomach. Deft fingers released the hidden b.u.t.ton to her slacks, then rasped the zipper down slowly.

She could almost feel the heat of his fingers moving closer to the needy flesh of her p.u.s.s.y.

His body shifted, the hard pressure of his thigh easing as his fingers slipped past the elastic band of her panties. The callused tips rasped the soft curls between her thighs, then with exquisite care parted the heated, wet curves that ached for his touch.

"Oh yes," she breathed out roughly, her hips arching. "I want your fingers, Travis. Please . .

." Her head ground into the cushions of the couch beneath her. "Please, f.u.c.k me with your fingers."

A hard groan tore from his lips. His fingers delved into the slit of her p.u.s.s.y, then two pressed together and thrust firmly into the clenched, tightened opening.

Travis was dying of l.u.s.t. The feel of her p.u.s.s.y, so hot and wet, gripping the tips of his fingers, was almost more than his d.i.c.k could bear. He wanted inside her, then and now. He wanted to tear the clothes from her body, slide between her thighs, and f.u.c.k her until they were both screaming in ecstasy.

Instead, he was feeling her snug s.e.x as it clenched around his fingers and her juices flowing to meet the shallow thrust.

Twisting his wrist, Travis began burrowing deeper, stretching the tender portal open, amazed at the near-virgin snugness as the delicate tissue and muscle clenched tight around his fingers. How much better would it be when he finally managed to get his c.o.c.k inside her?

Pushing in deeper, Travis forced himself to release the captive bud of her nipple to draw in a hard, deep breath. Then, he simply watched her face come alive as he began to fill her p.u.s.s.y with his fingers.

Stroking inside her with tight, forceful thrusts, Travis found himself entranced by the emotions washing over her expression. She had always kept herself in such tight control in the past that it was often impossible to know what she was feeling, if she was hurt, angry, or happy.

There was no mistaking the pleasure on her face now. Her neck arched with it, her eyes were slitted, staring back at him in pleasured agony as he f.u.c.ked the sweet portal of her p.u.s.s.y with two fingers while raking around the delicate bud of her c.l.i.t with his thumb.

She was more responsive now than she had been so many months ago when he took her virginity. She was arching beneath his touch, driving his fingers deeper inside her, her hips flexing, grinding into each thrust he made inside her.

The snug depths of her s.e.x milked his fingers as he stroked inside her, rippled around them.

Her juices flowed like sweet, hot honey, slickening his fingers with each thrust.

Taking her like this was agony and ecstasy. He could watch her face, watch the pleasure that darkened her eyes and tightened her expression. But his c.o.c.k was raging, demanding, throbbing inside his jeans with a voracious desire nearly impossible to control.

He had so very little time with her this afternoon. The first test of her memories that the Elite Ops was demanding would begin here, today. They knew she would end up back here once she read the report Desmond Harrington had been given by the investigative firm he had hired. She was being watched. The second she had left her home and driven toward his house, the plan had been put into effect.

What he hadn't expected was to have her walk into his arms and take what had been on his own mind since the night before. The pa.s.sion burned brighter between them now than it ever had. It had always simmered, burned, but now it flamed with a white-hot heat he couldn't avoid. As though Lilly had decided for herself what she wanted, and how she was going to take it. She was a woman tired of waiting, whether consciously or unconsciously, and a part of him realized he had been dying for her to reach out and take it. Unfortunately, now that she had, he didn't have the time he needed to revel in it.

"d.a.m.n." The groan was ripped from his throat as he pulled back from her, sliding his fingers slowly, so slowly, from the incredibly hot depths of her p.u.s.s.y.

His c.o.c.k throbbed in objection, his b.a.l.l.s were drawn agonizingly tight beneath the shaft of his erection.

"Travis." Silken hands gripped his shoulders, sharp little nails p.r.i.c.ked against his flesh.

"What the h.e.l.l is your problem?"

It was almost laughable. He wanted nothing more than to f.u.c.k her silly, but he was d.a.m.ned if he'd do it in front of an audience. And unless he missed his guess, they'd be there any second- "Travis, you have company." Nik knocked on the door, the sound causing her to flinch as Travis shot a murderous look toward the entrance.

h.e.l.l, this was just what he needed right now. His woman lying hot, silky wet, and willing beneath him and company on the other side of the door.

Grimacing, Travis pushed himself to his feet and stared down at her as she hurriedly fixed her clothes. Her face was flushed, b.r.e.a.s.t.s heaving; the hard points of her nipples were easy to detect beneath the thin silk blouse she wore.

Her soft lips were swollen, her hair mussed around her face. She was so d.a.m.ned pretty he had to clench his back teeth to keep from going back to her.

"Remind me to check your schedule next time before I decide to visit you," she snapped, her voice low. She looked presentable again. "You have too much d.a.m.ned company at inappropriate times."

He grunted at that, ran his hand around the back of his neck, then strode to the door and jerked it open.

"Travis." Santos Bahre, co-commander of Elite Two, stood on the other side, along with his partner, Rhiannon McConnelly.

Santos was six-three, had dark hair brushed back from his face, a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and he wore a gray silk suit and white shirt, paired with expensive leather shoes.

He was every inch the suave, debonair Irish pimp he portrayed.

Beside him stood his counterpart and co-commander, Rhiannon McConnelly. The madam to his high-cla.s.s pimp. The cover they had created was perfectly designed to allow the female agents they oversaw to work closely with the covert agents sent in on specialty a.s.signments.

"Santos, Rhiannon." Travis stepped back, wishing there were some way to warn Lilly, to guide her through this.

If she remembered her commanders at this point, then they were f.u.c.ked. The risk to the Elite Ops would be too high to allow her to stay in the game.

"You have company." Smoothly cultured, Rhiannon's voice was friendly and warm as she entered the room, her gaze going to Lilly.

They knew she had seen the file. They knew Lilly was aware of the report the investigator had compiled.

Travis turned in time to watch her face pale, her green eyes darken, widen, as she stepped back into the room.

"I'm leaving now." Her voice trembled as she cast him a look filled with betrayal. "I won't be back."

Good. Lilly thought she was coming face to face with her pimp and her madam, not her commanders. And she was searching for a way to leave, a way out of the room other than the one they blocked.

"Does she think we're here to force her back, Travis?" Rhiannon asked gently, her smile one of compa.s.sion and sympathy as she stared at Lilly. "What have you been telling this child about us anyway?"

"Child?" Santos murmured, the smooth hint of a brogue entering his voice. "You're only a few years older than she, Rhia love."

Lilly backed up further, her fingers moving restlessly at her thigh as though for the weapon she once wore there.

Instinct or memory? Travis wondered.

"I haven't mentioned you, Rhia," Travis a.s.sured her quietly as he watched Lilly, watched the pain and the denial that filled her face, her eyes.

He knew parts of her. Over the years, he had learned things he hadn't realized he'd known about her. One thing he'd learned was that Lilly had pride. Enough pride that it had gotten her into trouble more than once.

She couldn't see herself as a call girl, no matter how highly paid, no matter how exclusive or security-trained.

"He didn't have to mention you," Lilly spat out furiously. "My uncle has a full file on you."

"Then he must have one on you as well." Rhia stepped further into the room as she laid the red purse she carried on a side table.

The purse matched the red high heels she wore with well-creased silk slacks and a light cotton blouse. The shoulder-length dark red hair was brushed back from her face, her bangs skimming her brows.

She was cla.s.sy and stylish. Pretty much exactly what Travis would have imagined a successful madam looked like.

"I'm leaving." She moved around Rhia carefully as she stared at the doorway Santos and Travis still stood in front of.

"They just wanted to see you, Lilly," Travis told her quietly. "You've worked with Santos and Rhiannon for over five years now. You're friends as well as a.s.sociates."

"So Desmond's file says," she retorted sarcastically, as Travis sighed and stepped back from the door.

"Running won't help, Lilly," he told her softly, though he hoped she could read the message in his eyes to do just that. To run. To get the h.e.l.l out of there before her past rose up and bit them both in the a.s.s.

"I'm not running," she informed him sharply, fear and anger showing in her eyes now.

"And I'm not frightened. I'm simply refusing to be a part of this."

She edged around the room, watching them all carefully, her fingers still searching instinctively at her thigh for that weapon. He was d.a.m.ned glad she didn't have it; he had a feeling she would have shot them all.

"Lilly, you're running," Rhia said softly, her gaze never losing that innate compa.s.sion as she watched the woman she had helped train for so many years. "Surely you remember something about us."

"There's nothing to remember," Lilly snarled. "There are only the lies you had some investigator make up. What do you think you can do? Do you think you can blackmail me or my family?" Her nose lifted with aristocratic pride. "Trust me, lady, no one would ever believe Lady Victoria Harrington was little more than a wh.o.r.e. You're wasting your time."

"I believe I'm insulted," Santos drawled as she moved past him, watching him warily. "My girls have never been called such a thing."

The glare Lilly shot him should have withered him. Instead, with steady Irish charm Santos tossed her a wicked grin before extending his hand to the door. "We wanted only to say h.e.l.lo, my dear, and to let you know if you need us, we're here."

"I rather doubt I'll need you." The look she shot Travis a.s.sured him she wouldn't be needing him either.

She had pa.s.sed the test. She knew who they were only through the report her uncle had given her. She hadn't recognized them, she hadn't remembered her past.

She slipped from the room. The sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor could be heard just before the front door slammed closed.

Travis turned to Rhiannon, his brow arching.

Rhiannon stared back at him, her brilliant green eyes eerie, too aware, too knowing.

"She's hiding something, Travis." Her gaze hardened. "Find out what."

Chapter 6.

lilly stepped back into the house, smiling at the butler as he opened the door for her. The brightly lit marble foyer was warm and welcoming, but there was a core of ice forming inside her that she couldn't seem to dispel.

Moving quickly through the foyer, she pushed through the doors to the library, intending to confront Desmond with the information he had given her the night before. She hadn't expected him to have company.

"Victoria." Desmond came to his feet, a worried smile on his face. Lilly smiled when she saw who was behind him.

"Jordan," She said, coming forward and hugging him.

Jordan returned the hug. "I wanted to stop in to see you while I was in town. It's a miracle that you've returned."

"So my family tells me." She stepped back and restrained the need to rub at the chill in her arms.

"Your uncle mentioned you may have a bit of a past that could cause you some problems,"

Jordan stated, as Desmond went over to the bar. "I wondered if I could be of help."

"Did he now?" She glanced at her uncle, noting the heavy breath he took as he lifted a bottle of wine from the bar. She was within seconds of asking for something stronger, only to quell the urge as she noticed Jordan's gaze sharpening on her.