CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Just after midnight, Wes and Bulldog entered the back door of the two-story Colonial in one of the richest parts of Cincinnati. The very expensive security system had taken them all of three minutes to circumvent so that no alarm would signal their entrance, while continuing to send the all-is-fine signal back to the security company monitoring it twenty-four-seven.
Their target was all alone in the house, his wife having gone to Florida three weeks ago and wasn’t expected back before the weather thawed. Snow and cold temperatures weren’t going to be the only things gone when she arrived home.
Having cleared the downstairs of any possible moving targets, Wes signaled Bulldog to follow him up the stairs. They crept up the hardwood steps on silent feet, checking every room up there on the way to the master suite. Assured their target was alone, they slipped soundlessly into the room and flanked the master bed. Bulldog unplugged the phone charging on the bedside table and pocketed it in his pants, then stood between the bed and the nightstand, just in case the fool had any kind of weapon in there.
With one hand on his weapon, Wes grabbed the t-shirt of the sleeping man and hauled him halfway out of the bed. “Wake up, Dale!”
“Wh-what? Wh-who? Wh-where? How?” the frightened man stuttered out, his eyes huge in the dark and his limbs flailing about wildly as Wes pulled him off the bed to his knees in front of him.
“On your knees, you coward,” Wes growled out, putting the barrel of his weapon to the man’s temple. If the guy knew anything about guns and looked close enough, he’d be able to tell the weapon wasn’t loaded. The point of this visit was to scare this guy shitless, not get anyone killed.
“Who-who are you? What do you want?” Dale Napier, Chloe’s boss and the asshole who’d been stalking her, was still trying to make sense of what was happening.
“You’ve been stalking Chloe Roberts.” It wasn’t a question.
“No. No, you’ve got the wrong guy.” Napier was under the impression he could talk his way out of this.
“Shut up, you little prick. We know it was you. We have you on camera. So now you have two choices. Keep fighting us and I put a hole in your head right now. Or you get a bag packed, leave town and never come back.” Wes pressed the barrel of his gun against the guy’s skull, hard enough to leave a mark. “Ever!”
“I can’t just go. I’m a lawyer. I have a family.”
Wes clenched the guys shirt and pulled him up high until his neck was stretched taut. “Which are all better off without you—one way or another. Now choose. You want to die? Or live somewhere besides the U.S.?”
“I’ll go. I’ll go. Just please don’t kill me,” Napier begged.
“Good choice. Get dressed. We’ll pack the bag for you,” Wes said, nodding at Bulldog.
The sergeant opened the duffle bag they’d brought with them and headed to the dresser. He tossed a pair of underwear, jeans and a sweatshirt at Napier, who somehow managed to catch them as he scrambled to his feet.
Napier stumbled towards the master bathroom, Wes right on his heels.
“The door stays open.” Wes stood in the doorway, watching to be sure all Napier did was take a wizz and get into his clothes.
Once they had him packed up and inside the dark SUV they’d rented for the night. They drove in silence south of Cincinnati, across the bridge into Kentucky, headed for a private airfield.
When they pulled up alongside the Gulfstream jet, Wes pulled a bundle out of his pocket and handed it to Napier, seated in the backseat beside him. “Your new ID.”
“Where did you get this?” Napier asked, looking at the bundle. Inside was exactly one thousand dollars, along with the new paperwork.
“We’re making you disappear. You’ll be taken to a place outside of the US. You will never try to make contact with your family, your law firm and especially not Chloe Roberts. Is that understood?”
“You can’t do this. I have rights.”
Wes leaned in once more pressing the end of his weapon into Napier’s side. “At the moment, the only right you have to do is to choose to live or die. Changing your mind?”
“No! No, I want to live,” the man said, his voice quivering.
“Let me make this perfectly clear. You are going to be watched. Monitored. You violate any of these rules. You call your family. You try to contact your bosses. You contact Ms. Roberts in any way. You try to set foot in the United States, I will hunt you down and put an end to your miserable life. You got that?”
“Yes. Yes, I get it. No contacting anyone. No calling. No coming back.”
“Good. Now get out.” Wes leaned back and watched the terrified man scramble out the door, falling onto his knees briefly, then fly up the stairs into the jet. He only paused, when the flight attendant stepped out dressed from head-to-toe in camouflage and a black mask, a rifle nestled in his arms.
Once Napier was on the plane, Wes climbed out of the SUV and waved once at the attendant, who gave a wave back and closed the stairs into the plane. Wes climbed into the front seat by Bulldog and the drove to the end of the airstrip to watch the jet leave.
“Don’t know how you pulled this off, Chief.” Bulldog said as they headed north back to Cincinnati and Dylan’s place.
“I have a friend with connections.”
Wes was going to owe Harriett big time for this. One phone call was all it took and the irascible nurse had put the wheels in motion. He’d received the package by courier with the ID, money and directions to the airstrip. No passport, because after this trip Napier wouldn’t be going anywhere. The man might be thinking he was going to a resort island, but Harriett had reassured him, the man’s future wasn’t going to be a comfy one. After tonight, Wes was convinced more than ever that Harriett had some black ops work in her past, too.
“You sure the guy won’t come back and bother your lady?”
Wes shook his head. “Napier is going to a very secluded island in the Caribbean, one that has passed down from family member to family member. No one comes or leaves without the owner of the island’s permission. And I meant what I said. He breaks any of my rules, he’s dead.”
* * * * *
Chloe made a little moaning sound when Wes climbed in the bed behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back against him.
“Mmm,” she mumbled as he trailed kisses along her long neck, sending sparks of heat through her. “Where’d you go?”
“Just couldn’t sleep,” he whispered, letting his hands slide beneath her night shirt to cup her breasts, then tweak her nipples into tight points. “Think you can help me with that?”
She wiggled her bottom against his thick erection. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can.”
Cupping her face with one hand, he turned her head until he captured her lips in a slow, hot kiss. Slowly she turned, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. She loved the feel of his body. Hard, tight, hot. Every muscle defined by strength, but not overly developed like some gym rat’s bodies. No, this was a man who stayed fit by working, not working out.
“You have on too many clothes,” he murmured. With one swift motion, he pulled her nightshirt off and tossed it to the side of the bed, returning to kissing her deeper.
She slid one hand up his back, memorizing all the ridges and bumps. Scars. Probably from all his missions. Someday she’d get him to tell her about them. Tonight, she’d just let them remind her how lucky she was he’d survived to be with her.
“I want to taste you,” he said, trailing his lips down her neck. Sliding his body over hers until he was nestled between her spread thighs, he captured one breast with his lips, suckling just enough to send pain and pleasure coursing through her. He moved his head, the whiskers of his day-old beard scratching her already sensitive skin.
When his mouth latched on and tugged her other nipple, she arched her back. Her fingers digging into his shoulders as she moaned, “Wes.”
“Liked that did you?” he murmured, the humor in his voice making her smile, just before he repeated it.
“Oh, God, yes.” His tortured attention continued to both her breasts until her breath came in short pants of need.
Then he slid down further, his shoulders pushing her thighs wider. Hoping he’d join her at some point, she hadn’t bothered to wear panties. He nuzzled his face into her moist folds. “Love the way you smell when you’re aroused.”
If she’d read that in a romance novel, she’d wonder how any woman could think it was sexy. Now? Coming from the man who’d come to mean so much to her? It was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to her. Any further thoughts about it flew from her mind as his tongue found her clit and circled it.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, flinging her arms out wide and gripping the bottom sheet in her fists. Wave after wave of heat flowed over and through her as he lapped and teased her most sensitive spot. With one final gasp, she thrust her hips upward into his mouth, letting her orgasm tear through her.
Slowly, she relaxed. Spread wide before him, he rose to his knees and slipped a condom in place. “You’re beautiful, Chloe. I will always remember you just like this,” he said just before he thrust deep inside her, capturing her mouth once more, letting her taste her own essence on his lips and tongue.
Slowly, he slipped out, then thrust deep. Each time, filling her. Each time, bringing her more pleasure. Each time, whispering how he loved making love to her. Each time, thrilling her heart, making her want more of him. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she encouraged him to move faster and harder, finally joining him in his release as she found hers a second time.
Later, she snuggled up against his chest as he stroked his hand up and down her back in a slow mesmerizing mix of warmth and comfort.
“I’m sorry I put you in danger by taking you to my cabin.”
She slid her fingers to the ridges of black silk stitches along the knife wound he’d sustained, a shiver going through her. “Don’t be. I’m glad I was there. Glad I could go for help. Glad I could distract her long enough for you to stop her.” Her voice caught as the idea that he might’ve died tore through her.
“Shh,” he said, slipping his fingers under her chin and lifting it until she could see his intense blue gaze. “It’s okay. I’m fine and you’re safe.”
She couldn’t help the shudder. “Safe until my stalker figures out I’m back in town.”
“It’s all going to be okay, counselor. Trust me.” He captured her lips once more, in a slow, soft, heart-clenching kiss. “Your stalker will be taken care of. Things will look much better tomorrow. You’ll be back at work and getting on with your life.”
The conviction of his words and the warmth of his body eased her tension. She snuggled closer and let her eyes close. Just as she fell asleep, he tightened his hold on her and she heard him whisper, “I love you, Chloe.”