Owned: An Alpha Anthology Part 46

Throwing my arm across my face, I could smell her on my skin. Inhaling deeply, memories of the night before flooded my mind. I'd never felt weak in the knees before her. The electricity in the air as we touched could've lit an entire house and possibly blown out a few light bulbs in the process.

If I said that it didn't sting a little that she didn't stick around to say goodbye, I'd be lying. Izzy was as affected by me as I was her, and she had to slink away before she would have to confront the feeling I invoked in her last night.

I knew I'd have her again. She couldn't escape the inevitable. The connection we felt was undeniable. I'd let her go... for now. I knew in the end she'd be mine.

A chase would ensue and I'd get exactly what I wanted-Izzy Gallo.

Read Resist Me to find out what happens next with James and Izzy... Part of the Men of Inked Series by Ch.e.l.le Bliss.

ABOUT Ch.e.l.lE BLISS.

USA Today bestselling author Ch.e.l.le Bliss is an American author who writes stories about real-life scenarios with fantasy Alpha males. Her works include humor as well as steamy s.e.x.

Website Facebook Twitter Sign up for the Ch.e.l.le Bliss Newsletter Join my Readers Group Men of Inked Series Throttle Me ~ Book 1 Hook Me ~ Book 2 Throttled ~ Book 3 Resist Me ~ Book 4 Click here to listen to the Resisting Playlist on Spotify Signed Paperback Copies of all Ch.e.l.le Bliss books are available at http://ch.e.l.lebliss.com/signed-paperbacks/ NOTE TO THE READER.

Dear Reader, Thank you for reading Resisting, which is part of the Men of Inked series.

Please take a moment and leave a review. They mean the world to me. I try and take time to read every review. Without readers and reviews, indie authors would have nothing.

Sincerely, Ch.e.l.le Bliss ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.

I'd like to thank Nina Levine and Jani Kay for including me in the kick a.s.s anthology, Owned. It has been an amazing experience and I couldn't be more proud of all that we accomplished in a short period of time. Also, I'd like to thank all the ladies in the Anthology, you've all been professional, helpful, and organized. Love you hard ladies!

Nina, I want to thank you for always being there for me. You've been an amazing friend and colleague. Our Gandy Candy Compet.i.tion always makes me laugh! Thank you for being you.

There are so many people I'd like to thank. First, I'd like to thank Alfie, Colleen, and Eric Battersh.e.l.l for shooting the photos on a whim while together. The photos were so s.e.xy and I could feel the emotion and burning jump off the photograph! Thank you for being patient when I couldn't decide. You are my Izzy & James! Eric, thanks for snapping the photo at the perfect time. You're photos are magic. They convey just as much emotion and depth as my words.

To my beta girls and street team. I love you all. Thanks for being patient with me and always helping me fill in the gaps. Lord knows my memory is total s.h.i.t. Thank you for always going on a fact-finding mission for me when I'm writing and can't remember s.h.i.t.

Thank you to everyone who loved and embrace Izzy and James! I love all the Gallos. I hope you continue to enjoy them in the future. There's more to come!

DEEP COVER.

Case 001 A novella by Lilliana Anderson Copyright 2014, Lilliana Anderson All rights reserved Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. Any actual places, products or events mentioned are used in a purely fict.i.tious manner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various places/products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission and is by no way sponsored by the trademark owners.

FOUR YEARS EARLIER.

Prologue.

"This is the third month he hasn't reported in, Trix. They're marking him rogue. The warrant was issued this morning," Haines informs me, his gruff voice unusually gentle as he attempts to treat me with kid gloves.

"I don't care if he hasn't reported in!" I cry. "He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't go against his team, and he wouldn't do this to me! He wouldn't leave me, Commander! I know he wouldn't. I know he wouldn't! Can't you do something? Can't you give him more time? Something must be wrong. He wouldn't do this!"

I feel so sure of my words. So sure that the love between Drake and I is so strong, that the only reason he'd stay away from me was because there was absolutely no way he could get back. What they're saying can't be true. Drake would never switch sides; he's dedicated his life to tracking down and capturing difficult criminals. There's no way in h.e.l.l he'd flip.

"You've read the reported sightings," he counters, holding out the file of evidence as a way to try and convince me. "Our informant" My arm shoots out and I slap the file out of his hands, the printed pages flying about the room in a fluttering snowstorm fuelled by my emotions.

"I don't give a f.u.c.k about your informant!" I screech, blood rushing through my ears as I shake my head, gripping at my hair as I refuse to listen. "Drake wouldn't do this!"

"I'm sorry, Trix. I really am," he murmurs, attempting to calm me by reaching out to touch my shoulder. I flinch away, knocking his arm away from me. Then I push him in the chest to force him away from me. I don't want to be comforted. I don't want to be touched. I just want my husband back. I want this order to be rescinded.

"I'm sorry," he says again, backing out of the interview room he'd taken me inside to break the news. My involvement in my husband's case is over. Another team is coming in to capture him and bring him in as a criminal suspect. Even if they do find him, his life is over. Cops gone rogue rarely get a fair trial, and they never last long in prison. Haines has basically just ripped my heart out of my chest and squished it with his bare hands.

He leaves the room. Leaving me alone to scream, wail and do all the things that a woman who has lost the love of her life does when she feels an injustice has occurred. I want them to save him. I want them to believe that he wouldn't do the things he's being accused of.

Slowly, my screams turn to sobs, and I slide to the floor, sitting amongst the paper that officially doc.u.ments Drake's deceit. I sit there crying quietly, for, I don't know how long. But, it's just long enough for it feel like my life is over when I'm done.

Present day . . .

As much as I thought I was hurting the day they issued the warrant, it was nothing compared to how much pain I'd feel a month later when Drake's handler was found dead, and a shoot-to-kill order was issued.

And then I couldn't have imagined the pain I'd feel the moment that kill was confirmed, and I became a widow.

I never even got to see the body . . .

DEEP COVER: CASE 001.

BY LILLIANA ANDERSON.

001.

"Take it off," I whisper, my teeth pulling at his ear as my hands slide under his shirt, wandering over the ripples of his washboard abs, my fingers rising and falling over the ridges. I push his shirt higher.

Obliging me, he tears his lips away from my neck, and his hands from my b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he reaches down and lifts the shirt over his head, flashing a perfect smile at me that brightens the dim room.

He drops it on the floor, capturing my face in his hands as he brings his lips to mine. "Better?" he murmurs, slipping his tongue into my mouth as he inhales through his nose, breathing me in, his arms curling around my body and drawing me towards him.

I melt against him, my body on fire with want, a pleasant jolt between my thighs as his hands slide down my body and grip at my a.r.s.e, pulling me against his hard erection.

Walking together, we aim for the bed, moving across the floor in a frantic dance of tangled limbs and eager kisses. It's a shuffle of sorts but there's a carnal need between us, causing us to maintain close contact. As we reach the foot of my bed, he pauses, his hands sliding upward, lifting my shirt as his fingers drag over my skin until it's over my head, and drops to floor.

He shifts back, just enough so our chests are no longer touching, and I watch, as his eyes grow hungry at the sight of my full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They rise and fall as I breathe, the flesh spilling over the top of the lace cups that barely contained me through dinner. Instantly, his hands move to knead the soft flesh and his head bows to reverently kiss each mound.

"G.o.d you're beautiful," he whispers, his arm curling around my waist to support me as he leans over me and lowers us both onto the bed. "I want to kiss, and taste, every single part of you." He pulls the lace to the side, taking my already erect nipple into his mouth and sucks back, his tongue swirling around it and making my body feel as though it's about to come undone.

"Oh," I moan, arching my back as my fingers slide into his sandy blond hair, curling through the thick strands as I enjoy his worship of my body and hear the first notes of a familiar song.

Do I Wanna Know? by the Artic Monkeys, plays from my phone, causing me to groan, and this time not from pleasure. I chose this song specifically for the ringtone on my work phone. Because really, do I want to know why they're called me after I've gone home?

I move to sit up. "Ignore it," he murmurs, moving over to my other breast and pulling that cup down too. "They can keep ringing, this is good f.u.c.king music." His mouth clamps down on my nipple, and his hand moves downward.

My body wages war with my mind, as my head swirls with desire, and my phone continues to thump out the introductory beat of the song. I want to ignore it. I can't express how much I want to ignore it. But I can't. This is what being on call is all about.

"It's work. I have to answer," I moan, forcing myself to sit up, watching as my boyfriend, Gavin, rolls off me and lets out a groan of his own. "I'm sorry. You know I'm on call," I explain, picking up my shirt and tugging it down over my body, as I hurry out of my room to where my phone is still singing in my bag near the front door where we dumped it only moments ago.

"Samuels," I say by way of greeting as I wait for the instructions that are sure to follow. I expect that I'm getting called in to help digitally track down a hacker who's made an attempt to gain access to a secure site and gotten further than the usual 'hacker for kicks' manages to get. But instead, I hear a voice from my past. A voice I didn't expect I'd be hearing at ten o'clock on a Friday night.

"Caitlin. You need to get in here."

My brow creases, as the voice of my old commander, Grant Haines, rumbles down the line.

"What's happened?" I ask, confused as to why my ex-field commander is calling me almost four years since I pulled back from field duty and took up my current job behind a desk in cyber crimes.

"Your old case. There's been a development. They want you at Site Seventeen in thirty minutes."

"Why?"

"There's a witness. They'll only talk if it's to you. That's all I know."

"Will you be there?"

"I'm out of state. You'll be fine. Commander Greer is there. He's in charge of the site now."

"But" I try to argue before he cuts me off with a bark.

"Just get your a.r.s.e down there. NOW," he bellows, the call ending abruptly and leaving me with nothing but a dead line to argue with.

I stand there, my mouth still frozen as if I were about to speak. I want to state my case. Plead with him to leave me beI don't want to go back to that site. I don't want to be dragged back into that case. I left the field for a reason, and I don't want to go back.

"Bad news?" Gavin asks from the doorway of my bedroom, looking like a s.e.x-G.o.d with his blonde hair falling into his eyes and his jeans hanging open, displaying that V that causes me to bite my lip and consider getting written up for disobeying an order.

"I have to head in," I pout, resisting temptation, but walking over to him and pressing a kiss to the underside of his chin to say goodbye. "You know I'd rather be with you."

Inhaling deeply, he slides his arms around me and presses his lips to the top of my head. "You want me to wait here for you?"

"I don't know how long I'll be."

He pulls away, pressing his lips into a small smile as he meets my eyes. "Then I'll wait longer."

"You're pretty amazing," I smile, forcing myself away from him as I straighten my shirt by tucking it into my dress pants then slide my arms inside my jacket. "I really have to go. They're going to kick my a.r.s.e as it is."

"Ok, go. I'll make sure I feed those precious fish of yours while you're gone."

Backing away from him, I pick up my bag and slide my feet back inside my low-heeled shoes. "They're my babies. Be careful not to overfeed them. Just a pinch. And no tapping the gla.s.s," I say, pointing a finger at him as he folds his arms and chuckles.

"Anyone who's seen Finding Nemo knows you don't tap on the gla.s.s."

I open the door and step out, wondering exactly how long it's going to be before I see him again, before I turn back around. "Just a pinch," I remind him, causing him to laugh as I step outside into the night air.

The moment the dark surrounds me, and I head toward my car, I'm filled with a sense of dread. A development in my old case. The only case my team never closed. The case that took my husband's mind and eventually his life.

DEEP COVER: CASE 001.

BY LILLIANA ANDERSON.

002.

Driving faster than I should, I arrive at Site Seventeen thirty-five minutes later.

Site seventeen is a concrete warehouse, nestled una.s.sumingly amongst a sea of identical warehouses in a busy industrial area to the south of the city. In the very front of the building, it's set up so it appears to be a car parts manufacturer, but once you walk past the machines to the door that's hidden in the storeroom, you'll find yourself heading underground to what the general public and conspiracy theorists would call a 'black site'.

It's a large, underground bas.e.m.e.nt that is outfitted as the headquarters for high-risk casesthe cases the public aren't allowed to know about, or the cases that the government will deny any knowledge of if things go south. It's all 'off the books', but still operates within the law...well, most of the time, anyway.

There are many of these 'sites' around the country, and their location is on a need-to-know basis only. I have no idea of the exact number it goes up to, but I know site seventeen like the back of my hand. It's the place that sucked all the joy out of my life.

I have to go through a security check before I'm allowed any further than the first entry point, and another five minutes has pa.s.sed by the time I'm escorted to where Commander Greer is waiting for me. I've never worked with Greer before. But I know of him. He's the man they call in to fix things that are broken. He's the man who led the capture team for Drake in the first place.

"You're late," he bellows, tilting his baldhead to indicate that I follow him as he walks briskly towards another door.

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be here," I shoot back, talking tough to cover up my unease at being back inside this building. I follow behind him, my posture stiff as a keen sense of dread settles in my stomach. With every step, memories of this place begin to flood back into my mind like a highlight reel: being chosen as a part of an elite team, the excitement of our first day here, the late nights chasing down leads and pouring through information...the day he went undercover. The day he went rogue. The day the 'shoot on sight' order went out.

The day the kill was confirmed...

I have to swallow hard to keep the bile from rising up from my throat. Memories of Drake are everywhere I look. I want to close my eyes. I want to stop seeing this place. But I can't stop looking. I can't stop remembering.

Greer takes me into a meeting room where two other agents are sitting together, going over files. One of them I know, her name is Gabrielle Birdwood, although most call her Gabby or Birdy for short. I first met her not long after I came to work with the Federal Police, but we've only worked a handful of cases together. We were never really friends until after Drake had died. She's one of the few people who were still kind to me after his betrayal, and as a result, our friendship flourished. She's also the reason I met Gavin and started getting on with my life again. As for the other agent, I've never seen him before. He's one of those mega tall but incredibly slim people whose face is angular, like it's just skin sucking on bone.

When I enter the room, they both look up. Gabby gives me a sympathetic smile, knowing that this is the last place I want to be, and the other just stares at me like I've done something wrong.