Elite Ops: Easy Target Part 2

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he stared back. Everything that had happened earlier tonight faded as he did the thing he'd wanted to do for the past six months. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms and cradling her to his chest.

She melted against him without hesitation, and the feel of her body against his was better than he'd imagined. Her soft curves, in all the right places, registered with his brain and everything below his belt as she tucked her head into his shoulder.

He shouldn't be doing this. He knew it. She'd been traumatized earlier.

She sighed against him and tilted her head up. He looked into her midnight-blue eyes and saw a vulnerability there that had been shadowed before with all the s.e.xual bravado she'd been throwing his way since last summer.

Still, he hesitated.

She looped her hands behind his neck and pushed his head down toward her. She smelled . . . different than he remembered. Her scent, which normally had him so mixed up, had been washed away with the shower. She kissed him, carefully moving her mouth against his, and he froze.

He was kissing Trey's sister. She moved her hand down his back and pressed closer against him. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were soft against the firm wall of his chest.

Her tongue was in his mouth and he stopped thinking-about everything, about Trey, about why they shouldn't be doing this, about where they were. His hands were in her robe and he moved them up her sides along her ribcage. She moaned into his mouth as her palms slid to his waistband. The robe slipped from her shoulders, catching at her elbows.

He looked down. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were the perfect size, with nipples a dusty rose that had pebbled with the cool temperature of the air conditioning. Her waist and hips were covered with the white terry cloth, but he caught a glimpse of blonde curls between her legs. His c.o.c.k throbbed against the back of his zipper.

He gently tugged the robe from her arms and she slid one of her hands under his shirt, brushing one of her fingertips across his stomach along the way to his belt buckle. He kissed the side of her neck, then pulled back to slip his T-shirt off.

The gray cotton tee fluttered to the floor. The feel of her satiny bare skin pressing into his chest had him almost coming right there, but he took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and put his hands on her waist. His fingers rested on either side of her hips, and he moved his thumbs down across her belly lower and lower, finally lifting her up so that she could swing her leg over his lap to straddle him.

Her robe puddled over his hands, leaving her completely exposed. When he touched the top of her pubic bone with his fingertips, she startled, and her eyes focused on his for the first time since she'd kissed him. But the expression there was completely different from what he'd been expecting.

Instead of being in the throes of pa.s.sion, she looked . . . scared? He pulled back and was about to ask her what was going on when there was a brisk knock at the door.

"Room service."

Chapter Four.

Sa.s.sY JUMPED AWAY from him like she'd been burned, pulling the robe with her across the bed. Bryan could do nothing but stare as she practically cowered at the headboard. Guilt and confusion simultaneously swamped him.

What the h.e.l.l? There was no way he'd misread this, was there? She'd been all over him. She'd kissed him. It hadn't been that long since he'd been in bed with a woman.

Sa.s.sy had obviously changed her mind about having s.e.x with him, and that was fine. But she hadn't said a word. He felt like s.h.i.t.

If that knock on the door hadn't come just now, would she have gone through with it anyway? On top of everything that had happened to her tonight, that horrified him.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, refusing to make eye contact. "I'm fine."

Bryan knew enough about women to know that "fine" was code for something else here. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to access the codebook.

The knock sounded again. He made no move to answer.

"Are you sure?" He stared at her, but she never looked up from the bedspread. There was no way he was going to just leave this alone. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Bryan was a big guy, and he didn't think he'd leaned into her or crowded her in any way. He certainly hadn't crowded her the way he'd been planning to before he'd seen the expression on her face.

She looked up at him then. "G.o.d, no. I just . . ." She took a ragged breath. "I'm just not as up for this as I thought. It's been a . . . difficult night," she mumbled. Her earlier bravado had completely disappeared.

Jesus. That was putting it mildly. "Sa.s.sy, I . . ."

"Don't worry," she muttered. "It's not like you did more than grab my a.s.s."

Bryan tried not to be insulted.

He'd done a bit more than that. They'd been about to have s.e.x. And there was no un-ringing that bell. Was this some weird delayed shock reaction? The knock sounded once more, insistent this time.

"Coming," he called out. Then almost snorted at his choice of words. Not hardly, he thought. He rolled off the bed, b.u.t.toned his jeans, and answered the door.

Sa.s.sY TIED HER robe tightly around her waist and struggled to regain equilibrium as the room service waiter rolled a cart laden with silver-topped domes into the room. What had she been about to do? G.o.d, she'd been undressed and in Bryan's lap. If the waiter hadn't arrived when he had, she'd be having s.e.x right now.

Not that having s.e.x with Bryan was a bad thing. It would probably be a very good thing. But he would know.

And she wasn't ready for that, particularly tonight. The explanations involved and dredging up the past were more than she could take after the day she'd had. Right now, she just needed to get a grip on her emotions.

The waiter pulled the serving domes from the plates with a flourish. Bryan hadn't been joking, he really had ordered a little of everything from the menu. Pastries, a fluffy omelet, cut fruit, a dish she didn't recognize but that looked heavenly and smelled divine. Who would eat all of this?

Bryan turned away from her as he took the check from the waiter. The skin on his bare back was smooth, with a deep tan and well-defined musculature. Her throat went dry. Even the man's back was beautiful.

His waist tapered and his tan line stopped just above the top of his jeans. She tried not to stare at his b.u.t.t, focusing instead on the strip of light-colored skin just below his waist as he bent over the desktop to sign the tab. He must weigh at least 230, but from what she could see, he was all muscle. She a.s.sumed it wouldn't be a problem for a man his size to eat everything on the table the way he'd been about to gobble her up earlier.

Bryan locked up behind the waiter and leaned against the door to stare at Sa.s.sy in silence. The heat of his gaze had her feeling more than a little intimidated. But something stirred deep inside her as well. Why couldn't she just slip back into her usual saucy persona, complete with scathing barbs? If she didn't, how was she ever going to survive here without throwing herself at him again?

The scent of the food wafted around them, and she broke the silence. "Even with you helping, I'm not sure I can begin to make a dent in all that food."

Her stomach growled, and a smile kicked up at the edge of Bryan's solemn lips. "Well, we can certainly try," he said.

Thank G.o.d. They weren't going to discuss what had just happened. She stood beside the bed as her emotions over the room service interruption swirled inside her like a child's spinning top. How did she really feel? Confused, embarra.s.sed, disappointed?

Relief should be the overwhelming emotion of the hour, because Bryan didn't know her carefully crafted personality was a lie. Hopefully, he never would.

She nodded toward the mattress. "This other thing earlier. That was a mistake."

"Ya think?" His eyebrow lifted as he spoke.

She couldn't tell if he was hurt or being sarcastic. Instead of answering, she gave a nonchalant shrug and ignored him as she sat down to eat.

He stayed by the door. "Look, Sa.s.sy. I just want to get you out of here and back home. But we're stuck until I hear back from Marissa Hudson, my boss. Until then, I need you cooperative."

His tone and choice of words had her lashing out before thinking it through. "So you thought you'd screw me into compliance?" That wasn't what she'd meant, but she was so off-kilter, she'd slipped right into her autopilot defensive mode.

Bryan looked at her as if she'd slapped him. "h.e.l.l no. I just . . . Jesus, that's not how it was at all and certainly not what I meant. I'm so sorry if it felt that way . . . I . . ."

His words made her feel steadier. Throwing him off base helped in return, even if it was playing extremely dirty and b.i.t.c.hy. This kind of balancing act she was used to.

He was still staring at her as his stricken expression hardened into something completely unreadable. "I a.s.sure you, it won't happen again."

Even as her heart sank, Sa.s.sy smiled and tried to tell herself that her tactic hadn't backfired. But deep down, she knew it had. If she was honest with herself, what she really wanted was him holding her and telling her everything would be okay. But if he'd just said that it wouldn't happen again, he'd all but taken a vow.

She'd heard those words before, when he was eighteen years old and she was fourteen. They'd been on the back porch of his house playing a handheld video game. She could still hear the trailer's air conditioner wheezing and smell the honeysuckle combined with the stink of the compost pile from Bryan's grandmother's garden around the corner of the cement patio.

Bryan's Gran called Sa.s.sy Sarah Ann, but she'd been Sa.s.sy to the rest of the town for as long as she could remember. Her brother Trey hadn't been able to say Sarah Ann when she was born. Only two years old at the time, he'd called her Sa.s.sy instead. The moniker had stuck.

For once her brother hadn't been around. Normally he and Bryan would have been torturing the tagalong little sister with some ridiculous dare that was either death defying or humiliating, like climbing the twenty-five-foot tree in the cotton field across the highway or singing her dinner order at the top of her lungs in McDonald's on a Friday night. Initially, these "challenges" had been Trey's way of keeping Sa.s.sy in her place, since she was always hanging out with them. But over the years Bryan had adopted it, too.

She'd been hanging out with Bryan by herself that day and taking turns playing on the Game Boy that they'd had forever. For once she wasn't being dared to do anything. In fact, Bryan had been listening attentively as she'd been talking about a boy in her cla.s.s who she had a slight crush on.

"Bobby says he doesn't like me because I don't have 'experience' like Tracy Rave or Julie Milver," said Sa.s.sy, inching closer into Bryan's chest to see what he was doing on the game.

"Tracy Rave is a s.l.u.t. You don't want to have a reputation for that kind of experience." Bryan pushed back with his shoulder and hip a bit to keep Sa.s.sy from taking up too much s.p.a.ce even as he scooted over on the sofa cushion to let her see the screen.

In her innocence Sa.s.sy really hadn't known precisely what Bryan meant by "experience."

"You mean she's a good kisser?" she asked.

"No, I mean she gives good-" He swallowed and shook his head. "That's right, she's a good kisser. Among other things." He sank lower into the sofa. "Geez, hasn't your mom ever talked to you about this?"

She rolled her eyes at him. Unless Sa.s.sy could fit herself into the bottom of Bess Smith's bourbon bottle, there was very little chance she and her mother would ever be having a heart-to-heart conversation. Bess rarely said much of anything to Sa.s.sy beyond "Where are my smokes?" and "Is there any more Jim Beam in the cabinet?"

Bryan's Gran was more of a mom to Sa.s.sy than Bess ever was. For the first time Sa.s.sy didn't mind so much, since she liked seeing Bryan uncomfortable and blushing as he tried to talk to her about what Tracy Rave's "experience" meant.

"Why don't you show me?" she asked.

"What?" He startled beside her as he turned on the cushion to study her face. "Are you nuts?"

"No, I just want to know what it's like to kiss a boy. And since you say Bobby's a t.u.r.d, I think my first time should be with someone who's not."

Bryan almost looked relieved. "You want to know what it's like to kiss . . . I thought . . . never mind what I thought."

"Would it be that horrible to kiss me? C'mon," she said, tossing her head impatiently. "I dare ya."

She loved being the one to say it this time. He leaned back for a moment and stared at her through gray eyes that were usually a bit sleepy and sometimes a little sad. But there was nothing sleepy or sad in them right now. There was an expression there she'd never seen before and couldn't identify.

"You sure about this, Sa.s.sy?"

"Absolutely," she grinned, completely unaware of what she was asking for.

Everything slowed to what felt like a standstill on that old ratty couch when he set the game down and put his arm around her. The air conditioner kicked off. It was unusually quiet. She held her breath without realizing, and the next thing she knew Bryan was kissing her.

His lips were warm and soft against hers and his breath smelled like the Dentyne he liked so much. She leaned into him and sighed as he brushed his tongue against the seam of her lips, and she figured out fast that she was supposed to open her mouth instead of just grinding her lips against his.

He pulled her closer and swept his tongue into her mouth. She felt funny with a flutter deep in her tummy and leaned even further into him. His tongue tangled with hers for just a moment longer, then she moaned into his mouth and he jumped back as if she'd bitten him.

One month after that kiss on the sofa, Bryan had graduated from high school and joined the Marines. Sa.s.sy hadn't seen him again for almost twelve years, not even for his grandmother's funeral, until Trey had been arrested in Mexico. Two days later Bryan had shown up out of the blue looking like a live action hero from the movies, and offering to help Trey any way he could.

Sa.s.sy had recognized him immediately standing on her mother's doorstep, but it had still been a shock. And while Bryan might have changed dramatically since she'd known him in high school, the expression on his face the first time he'd kissed her was exactly the same as he'd worn just moments earlier: positively stricken.

"LET'S EAT," BRYAN said as he stalked toward the room service cart. "It's going to be a while before we hear back from Marissa." He was so mad at himself, his tone sounded much harsher than he intended. Sa.s.sy brought out the absolute worst in him, every time.

He never cursed around women, yet with Sa.s.sy he felt as if he was in a constant state of having hit his thumb with a hammer. What was it about this girl . . . this woman?

She sure as h.e.l.l wasn't "a girl" any longer. Sometimes it felt like he could just look at her and raise his body temperature. That's why he'd left home so abruptly. Nothing good would have come of his staying in Springwater the summer he graduated. He wasn't going to seduce his best friend's baby sister then, and he wasn't going to do it now, either.

Trey Smith had enough trouble. Six months ago in Mexico, he'd been found early one morning pa.s.sed out and covered in blood in a boat he'd rented the afternoon before with Elizabeth Yarborough to take a sunset cruise.

No body had been found, but witnesses claimed to have heard Trey and Elizabeth arguing in the hotel restaurant before they'd left for the marina. Trey had no memory of what had happened beyond renting the boat and leaving the dock. He admitted to having had a heated discussion in the restaurant beforehand, because he'd been worried for Elizabeth's safety in the village where the Peace Corps had had her stationed.

Cartel violence had increased dramatically in that same area, and he'd wanted her to come back home to the U.S. early or request to be moved, but she'd refused. The next morning everything had gone to h.e.l.l. Elizabeth was missing, presumed dead, and Trey had been arrested.

Sa.s.sy was convinced Elizabeth was alive. But while Bryan didn't think Trey had murdered the woman, he wasn't so sure she was still alive.

He snuck another glance at Sa.s.sy, perched on the edge of the bed in that ridiculously oversized robe, and felt his heart rate b.u.mp up. Jesus. It was going to be a long night.

He flipped on the television to a BBC news channel. The Christmas Eve ma.s.s from the Vatican was being broadcast. Bryan wasn't Catholic or particularly religious, but his Gran had gone to church, and he'd attended with her often. Until now he'd only thought about today's being Christmas Eve in terms of how it would affect their getting out of Africa. The ma.s.s seemed an appropriate background for dinner.

Peace on earth.

He stared at the screen. Peace was such a foreign concept. He wasn't opposed, but with everything happening right now, it felt extraordinarily out of reach. He listened to the chanting and tried to focus on the liturgy. Anything to keep his mind off Sa.s.sy and that one bed.

Chapter Five.

December 25 Late afternoon BRYAN HAD GOOD memories that involved Christmas. But this had been a bizarre holiday, filled with waiting, impatience, and awkwardness. Being shut up in a hotel room for most of the day with a half-dressed Sa.s.sy had been surreal.

Despite the manager's a.s.surances of last night, the hotel shop had been closed all morning, along with every other shop immediately around the hotel. Bryan didn't want to go back to the Casbah, so he'd decided to wait a few hours before trying again. He and Sa.s.sy had pa.s.sed the time catching up on what their lives had been like since Springwater, even playing Texas Hold'em for a while until she suggested they switch to strip poker. G.o.d, the woman really would say anything about s.e.x. This very grown-up Sa.s.sy was not at all like the girl he'd known back home.

After a late room service lunch, he left the hotel a second time in search of clothes for her. A few blocks away, he hit what felt like a Vegas jackpot when he found a combination boutique and grocery store that was open. The clothing might not be Sa.s.sy's style, but he managed to pick out what he a.s.sumed were the right sizes.

It was half past six when he got back to the room. Vibrating with tension, Sa.s.sy met him at the door. "I checked my voice mails while you were out. Trey's attorney called. They're moving up the timetable for the trial. It all takes place right after New Year's on January third. That's just over a week from now."

This was very bad news. Unlike the U.S. courts, in Mexico defendants were considered guilty till proven innocent. And the judges were extremely engaged in the investigation of the crimes involved.