“Why do you want me to meet your parents?” Teena asked. Her body continued to hum from his kisses. She sat up, knowing she really needed to shower and get this food off her. Between passionate kisses, Patrick had asked if he could introduce her to his folks.
“Because I think they would like you and you them. I know my father would.” He remained stretched out on her bed, rumpled and delicious looking. “It will just be a meal. Not an engagement dinner.”
Pain spiked her heart at the way he said that as if she was good enough to screw but not enough to marry. I need to get a grip and stop thinking this way. “Sure. Where do I go?”
“I’ll bring you.”
“I have some things to do this morning, I can swing by later.”
“Darling, I’ll take you wherever you need to go. I’m not risking my father’s wrath by making you walk to their house.”
“I’ve got to get out of these sticky clothes.”
His eyes flashed as he ran them over her. “Let me help.” He inched toward her and reached out with one hand, inching up the hem of her shirt to expose her toned belly.
“How am I going to explain this bedspread to the housekeeping staff?”
He flashed a satisfied grin. “No clue. Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” He got off the bed and pulled her after. Before she could say one way or the other, he had them in the bathroom and was adjusting the water.
She had her lower lip in her teeth when he faced her once more. He captured her chin and brushed a slow, drugging kiss on her lips. Her weakened knees trembled. It wasn’t fair he had so much power. At least over her body’s response.
“Arms up,” he ordered.
She complied and he carefully removed her sticky camisole. Topless, she watched his reaction to her bared chest.
“I’d forgotten,” he uttered, dipping his head allowing his warm breath to pass over her breasts. “Just how damn perfect you were. I thought I recalled but I was off. Way off.”
He flicked his tongue over the pebbled tip of her nipple ad she trembled. Another two laps and he took her in his mouth. She moaned at the feel. His hot mouth drew hard on her breast, his tongue tormenting the point as he sucked.
Sinking her hand into his thick black hair, she anchored him to her. It was akin to her being the kindling and he the match struck to set her ablaze—and when she went—she went up fast and hot. Only this man had that capability. She wasn’t a prude by any means but compared to Patrick, all other men—and no there weren’t tons—had to work to get a reaction even near to this one. But for this man, no contest.
He hummed against the hypersensitive nipple then moved to her other breast and paid the same homage to it. She fought to stay on her feet. As he continued sharing attention between her breasts, he lowered his hands to push her shorts down
“Oh God,” she gasped as he covered her slit and pushed two fingers deep inside her. He kissed his way back up her neck until their mouths were again, aligned.
“Yes, this is what I remember. That moan, that cry. This slickness and tightness around my fingers.” He nibbled on her lower lip before stepping back and stripping.
Her breath caught. Man had gotten even more handsome if possible. She licked her lips and reached for him, he met her half way. Somehow, he got his shoes off and together, they stepped under the steaming stream of water.
He cupped her face and kissed her as the water thrummed her skin, working out some of the many kinks she had. Patrick angled them so it hit her back with her front covered by him. His hands roamed everywhere before settling on her ass, directing her pussy to line up to his cock.
Her whimper was eaten by his kiss. She slipped her arms up under his and latched onto his shoulders, not wanting to let go. Water sluiced down their bodies as they relearned each other. Kissing, touching, exploring.
“We should get clean,” he said against her mouth.
“Dirty, then clean,” she countered with her own offer.
“I like the way you think, Mason.” He squeezed one ass cheek before moving his hand back to between her legs and pushed a finger inside her.
“Yes,” she exhaled the word, drawing it out long and breathy. She flexed her fingers, digging her nails into the muscles of his shoulders.
“Not nearly loud enough,” he said adding another finger.
She rose up on her tiptoes as he pushed into her. “Shit,” she moaned.
Blinking away the water running from her hair down her face, she looked into the eyes of the man in the shower with her. The passion in his gaze burned her, there was no avoiding what he wanted.
He captured her nipple and grazed his teeth over the tip while he worked his fingers within her. It didn’t take long and she cried out as she came. He held her up and his smoky eyes hooked her as he removed his fingers, slid his arm around her back and lifted her up to meet his lips. “Stay here,” he ordered.
She was on her feet and alone in the shower in a second. Five later, he pushed the curtain back aside and joined her once more. She understood in the next moment. He’d gotten a condom. She held his gaze as he pushed into her with a single stroke.
Eyes fluttering, she grabbed his shoulders once more.
“My turn,” he muttered.
An hour later and they finally finished making out in the shower, gotten clean, dry, and dressed.
“So about my parents?” he asked from where he pulled on his cowboy boots.
She finished buckling her belt and hooked her badge on the left side. Teena ran a cursory gaze down her attire. Blue and white three quarter sleeve jersey top, faded blue jeans and tennis shoes. “Just for a meal.” It could have been a question but it wasn’t. She wasn’t asking him, she was telling him. Parents of guys she had sex with made her nervous.
He shoved his hair back with one hand. “Yes. A meal. Come on.”
“Breakfast?”
“It is a meal. What’s the matter, Mason? You scared?”
His challenge got her hackles up. She was an armed federal agent who’d been promoted up the ranks at a rapid fire pace because of how damn good she was at her job. She wasn’t afraid. I will admit nervous, but scared? Never. “I don’t do scared,” she snipped, reaching for her sidearm. After it was secure, she rubbed the back of her neck and waited for him to get up from the chair.
Instead of rising, he lounged back, long strong legs stretched out in front of him.
“We going now?” she asked.
“I wasn’t sure you were ready?”
“I’m curious about something, why would you be bringing me to breakfast? And won’t they wonder the same thing?”
“Not once they learn you’re a Marshal. But, then again, they probably have heard about the incident last night at the diner, so they know it’s more than that.”
She stood on the cusp of refusal when she recognized the humor in his gaze. “Let’s go then.”
He rose. “So demanding. You could sound a little more excited about this you know. My parents are good people.”
“I’m sure they are.” She gathered her bag and looked around. “Can I leave it in your vehicle?”
“Of course.”
They left and walked back through the front room. Side by side, she couldn’t help but admire how feminine this man made her feel. She had her fingers curved around the duffle’s handle, keeping it between her and Patrick.
Like it’s a wall or something. Or rather like I have any willpower to keep away from this man.
“Morning, Patrick.” The woman who’d checked her in stood behind the counter. “You’re here mighty early.”
“You know me. I brought pastries. Unfortunately, I dropped the box in the room, so there’s stuff on the bedspread. Sorry about that.”
Teena was torn between embarrassment and shock he’d taken the blame for it. Not sure why, he probably is damn proud of himself for making me forget about my surroundings.
“I’ll take care of it. Is she leaving?” The woman gestured to the duffel Teena held.
“No, we have some Marshal stuff to talk about and her paperwork is in the bag. She’ll be back.”
“She’s right here,” Teena muttered.
“Excuse us.” He guided her outside. “I know you were right there. But if she was talking to you, it would’ve then become a lecture on how it’s not proper to have a man in your hotel room with us both being unmarried.”
Small towns.
“Fine.”
He paused before a large dark blue Dodge truck and opened the passenger door for her. She tossed her bag in then climbed up after it. Patrick trailed his hand along her inner thigh before shutting the door.
Her heart kicked up to Mach Ten and she blew out a long breath, wiping her hands off on her pants. One simple touch. That was all it took. Damn it, this was going to be a long day and she honestly didn’t know if there were enough panties in the world she wouldn’t be soaking through.
He hopped up and grinned at her.
That sexy grin made her long to hand him her panties and say, “take me” regardless of where they were or who could see them.
Keys in the ignition, he looked over at her. “When we first met, you continually shot me down. Why?”
“You had a reputation that I wanted no part of. I had a goal in mind and no man was going to get in my way.” She yawned. “Do you remember Lucy?”
“Yes. Hard to forget her. Why?”
The woman was not exactly what one would think of as a typical agent. She more fit the stereotype of dumb blonde with big boobs and seduction as her first method of approach. She wasn’t like that and made one hell of a Marshal, but that was how she’d first come across.
“She told me she had a thing for you and wanted to hook up. That alone made you off limits.”
“I didn’t want her. I wanted you. Still do.”
“So you’ve said.” She looked out the window, so she didn’t have to face his probing stare.
“What changed your mind?”
“That final night you approached me, I’d just caught her in one of the rooms with another guy. Figured she couldn’t be that hard up for you if she was getting dick from another.”
“That’s why you said yes.” His tone sounded odd.
“You asked.”
“I did. No argument here.” They drove along the two lane road.
Teena stared at the sky, heavy clouds and wind. Perhaps some rain would fall in his pit of hell today.
He slowed and turned them into a driveway and up to an old farmhouse with two cars parked in an open garage. Three dogs came running up, barking and growling.
“They don’t bite, so don’t worry.”
“Wasn’t.” She loved dogs.
He parked and they climbed out. She observed him as he bent and greeted all three of them, calling them by name. “Hey Chance, Rowdy, and my Lula.”
Teena blew out a series of short breaths, rallying her control. Taking down a suspect, protecting a witness, all that she was fine with. She had the training for it. But meeting the parents, well, someone needed to come up with a class for that because she was surely lacking in the confidence.
Patrick beckoned to her. “Come on.”
Trailing him up the steps, she gave a final darting gaze back to his truck as if she could make a last ditch effort to get out of the meeting.
“Not happening, Mason. Buck up.”
“How the hel—heck did you know what I was thinking?”
“Don’t have to know, it was all over your face.”
“You weren’t looking at me.”
He spun around. “So you are upset because I’m not looking at you?”
The twinkle in his eyes and kick up of the corners of his mouth had her rolling her eyes. “Spare me.”
He pulled her close by the front of her shirt. “Got your mind off your insecurities. Relax. Have fun. You’ll be fine.” A quick kiss which catapulted her into another realm of focus and he had stepped inside. “Mom? Dad? I brought company for breakfast.”
“In the kitchen, Patrick and don’t yell in the house. Your father is out in the shop.” A woman who was the feminine version of the man she’d just slept with walked into view. A blue gingham apron on with a rolling pin and the phrase “My Kitchen, My rules” on the front stepped into her line of sight, wiping her hands off on a towel. “And who is this?”
Patrick went to his mother’s side and kissed her before turning back to Teena. “Mom, this is Teena Mason.”
Her lips pinched briefly, before she smiled. “Welcome. Don’t just stand there, come closer and let me get a good look at you.”
What am I, a horse on the block? Dutifully, she approached.
“Teena,” Patrick said. “This is my mother.”
“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. West. I apologize for dropping in on you like this.”
“Figured you’d be out here sooner or later. My son comes home from DC and barely makes a peep in the small town but when you were here, it’s all over town about your interaction with him at the diner. Where do you know my son from? Patrick, go get your father while Ms. Mason and I finish up breakfast.” She beckoned with her hand. “Come on, we can talk in my domain.”
Patrick winked at her and mouthed, “Chin up.” Then he vanished, leaving her alone with a protective mother.
Teena contemplated about how she would make him pay for this.
“I believe you were about to tell me how you met my son,” Mrs. West reminded her as she went back to the tray of biscuits she was moving to a napkin lined basket.
Right, because this was every woman’s dream of something to do so early in the morning.
αβ
Patrick glanced over his shoulder to where Teena sat with his father out on the front porch. He was helping his mother get some tea to take out there.
“She’s nice, Patrick. I like her. Got some spunk. More than enough to keep you honest.”
“Don’t go planning our wedding, Mom. We don’t see each other a lot. In fact, this is the first time I’ve seen her in a while.”
He did feel pleased how Teena had worked it. Not telling his parents, they occasionally shacked up for a weekend of sex. But that was all it was. They met somewhere, usually Atlanta and rented a hotel room. It had been a few months, since their last meeting but he wanted more.
“Doesn’t say that from the way you two watch each other. You watch each other like Sarah Dery and Troy Carlton do, as if no one else matters.” She put the delicate sugar container on the silver tray.
“Mom, there’s no way. They’re engaged and in love. We are both Marshal’s.”
“And she’s here just because her car broke down?”
“I hear the skepticism in your voice but yes. She didn’t even know I lived here. And trust me, if she could get out of here, she would.”
“There is a bus that runs through town, she could have gotten on it.” She placed her hands on the counter and stared at him. “Right?”
“And leave the government vehicle here?”
“Don’t sass me.”
“No ma’am, wouldn’t dream of it. It’s only a coincidence that she is here. Heck, I didn’t even know I was coming home until I got to town.”
She grunted and gestured at the tray.
He immediately picked it up and followed her through the farmhouse to the porch.
“So how does your father feel about you being a Marshal?” his dad asked Teena as they stepped out onto the porch.
“He’s proud of me. He was a cop so while I didn’t exactly follow in his footsteps, in a sense, I did.” She peered at Patrick over her shoulder as she sat in the wicker chair.
He set the tray down between her and his dad, then stepped aside as his mom poured. Instead of sitting beside Teena, he leaned against the porch railing, so he had a direct view of her face.
They’d discussed DC and the sights of New Orleans, just enjoying the relatively cooler morning temperatures when her phone rang. “Excuse me,” she said, immediately gaining her feet. “Mason.”
Patrick tracked her as she walked down the stairs. He could see the smile that turned up her lips and it made sourness sprout in his gut. Who the hell was calling her so early and why was she smiling so?
“Hey Frank. So good to hear from you.” Then she was out of his hearing range.
His parents didn’t speak, just sat there in silence.
Patrick stole several more glances in the direction she’d walked off in. She stood in the morning sun, the golden glow highlighting her hair, making it shine even more. His heart clenched when she tipped her head back and laughed at something this Frank character had said.
A rumble of jealousy erupted from him, so he hopped the railing and strode after her. “Hang on. Do you need something? Teena met his gaze as he approached and cocked an eyebrow.”
He stopped in front of her, arms crossed and waited…For this man not to make her smile like he’d been doing. “Everything okay?”
“Not really. There was an incident and they’re sending a chopper for me. May want to contact your boss and see if you need to catch a ride to the nearest big airport with us.”
“Chopper? Shit.” He dug for his own phone.
“I was just about to call you,” Seamus said over his cell by way of greeting.
“What’s going on?”
“Ambush. Some people were waiting for a transport and took out the teams in escort. We’ve lost seven.”
A definite punch to the gut. He shared a look with Teena, then stepped back so their calls didn’t overlap. “Fill me in.”
“We’re doing a manhunt. Between Texas and Louisiana mainly but in the other directions as well. We’re going to find these bastards.”
“Mason has a chopper coming for her. I’ll hitch a ride and be on the ground as well.”
“Good. Stick with her. I’m assigning you to her as a partner and will pass it along to her boss.”
“With pleasure.”
As if on cue, the steady and familiar whoomping of an incoming chopper filled the air. He dashed to his truck where he kept his own go bag at all times when he was home on a visit and swiped it from the backseat as well as Teena’s.
She’d just finished shaking hands with his parents when the low flying black bird raced into view.
He shoved his phone in his pocket and with the handles from his bag wrapped around his palm he waited as the rotor wash exploded up from the ground.
The door slid open and a man jumped down, gave him a cursory glance before focusing on Teena who jogged over to meet him. Yes, their greeting was more than just a handshake. Their affection for one another seemed obvious, despite the grim overall feeling.
“Mount up,” the man in black hollered, waving him closer as well.
Tossing a wave to his folks, he climbed in and buckled up as they lifted off. He reached for a headset and caught the tail end of her discussion.
“Who’s taking care of the bill and vehicle?”
“Sandy was dropped off in town and will make sure all is closed out there. They’re bringing others in. Frank’s waiting for you on the Louisiana side, making a hop from here to Shreveport, then you’re heading back to see if the trail can be picked up.”
Patrick was about to voice his disagreement with that plan when she shook her head. “Waste of time. Tell Frank to work his way toward us. This fuck killed seven of our men, we need him found. We’ll squeeze him. It’s too much time wasted if we go there then back. Drop us off somewhere with a vehicle. We’ll make do from there.”
“Who’s the we, Mason?”
She jerked her thumb at him. “Marshal West. DC office. I’m sure he’s been briefed on the situation.” She met his gaze and Patrick nodded. “See. He’s up to speed.”
“Name’s Jason,” the other man said with a short handshake. “Nice to meet you, sorry it was under these circumstances.”
“Shit happens,” he replied. “Let’s get the bastards responsible. My boss said I’m with Mason and he’d pass it along to her boss.”
“Good enough for me.” Jason tossed some keys at her. “My vehicle is gassed and ready.”
Teena snatched them from the air without any hesitation. “Last time I took yours, Jase, I ended up in Fort Mavis.”
He grinned. “Sorry. This one is okay.”
“Hope so.”
“This is yours as well.” Jason tossed her a bag.
She nodded without looking in it.
Within a few hours, they’d left the helicopter and were speeding along the interstate in a dark sedan.
Patrick stared at the woman behind the wheel, her face set in an unreadable expression. “What’s bothering you?”
She cut her gaze to him.
“Besides the obvious, of course.”
“That’s it. I knew two of the agents lost.” She ground her teeth and tightened her grip on the wheel before relaxing momentarily.
He set his hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry.” Hand back to his side of the car, he dug around for the laptop in his bag. “I think we need to set up plan on how to proceed. I mean, I grew up in Texas but it’s not a small place. There are tons of places I’ve never been to. I’m a DC Marshal now and I don’t know the area like that.”
“There’s a makeshift base up here. Local law and some Marshals have gathered. We’re starting at the scene and working out.” She gazed at the dash clock. “We’re about forty minutes out. They took over the nearby home of where it happened.” She yawned.
The man in him wanted to offer to drive but the Marshal in him knew she would be offended, so he let it go. She knew her limits and yes, would push them, but wouldn’t do anything stupid. Not when they were tracking a cop killer.
There were numerous vehicles in the driveway when they pulled up. She got out and met his gaze over the roof of the car. There were no words to share…all he did was wink. Side by side, they strode up to the group.
Two of the men glanced at them before looking away, dismissing them.
“Who’s in charge?” Patrick asked.
“Sheriff Langs. Inside with the feds.”
“Thanks.”
The one who’d spoken held out a hand, blocking their approach. “Whoa there. Where do you think you’re going?”
“We’re Marshals.”
The man ran a critical gaze over Teena. “Guess they’ll let anyone in the Marshals these days.”
Not smart man.
Teena stepped up until their toes were touching and she got right in his face. “Look here, Officer Taylor.” Ice coated her words. “Your backwoods hick ideals may be fine around here, but they don’t fly with me. This badge on my hip says Deputy Marshal. Do you get that concept? That means if I want your badge, I get it. I want your bosses badge, I get it. Don’t fuck with me. We lost seven today and you should be out doing something, instead of digesting your donut and being an ass. Now get the fuck out of my way.”
He stepped aside and shot a look at Patrick.
“Don’t look at me man. My badge only says US Marshal. Word of advice, don’t piss off the feds. We can be easy to work with or we can make your life a living hell. And she’s one hell of a Marshal. You should count yourself lucky to even have met her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were one day the director for the Marshals.” Patrick hastened after her and found her already embroiled in the discussion with others around a table of maps.
The man with the sheriff’s badge gave him a sharp nod. “Marshal?”
“Marshal West. What’s the play?” He positioned himself away from Teena, needing to focus on the job ahead, not how he was falling for her.”
“As I was telling your partner here, we didn’t get out here for a while which gives him a few hour head start on all of us. It’s highly unlikely that someone savvy enough to pull off an ambush of a transport, would be dumb enough to still be in the same vehicle, so the BOLO of the green van, is most likely useless. We’re still running down every lead we get on it, though. We’re not a huge department and there’s a lot of land to cover here.”
“We appreciate all the assistance, Sheriff,” Teena said with sincerity. “I’d like to see the scene of the incident.”
“Pretty much here. Come on.”
They went outside and this time, Patrick stood near Teena, behind her listening as they were told where it happened.
“Bodies have been removed but the vehicles are still up there. End of the drive to the left, we have men looking for clues along the road.”
Teena walked off.
Patrick fell into step beside her. “What are you thinking?”
“He’s right. This was a well-planned attack. Seven gone and the prisoner gone.”
They neared the first car, flipped over and crunched in like a herd of elephants had trampled it.
“RPGs, spike strips, automatic weapons. Christ, they never stood a chance.” She shook her head and continued on.
“Who knew of this transport?”
“I don’t know. Frank is looking into that from his end. He’ll follow up.” She waved a hand at the mangled vehicle. The door had been taken off by the jaws of life, it had to have been the only way out for those burned inside.
Patrick stared at it. “The lightest damage was done to the one with the prisoner, so they knew which exact vehicle he was traveling in. News, they shouldn’t have known.”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
The looked at each other for a moment and said at the same time, “Inside job.”
“Damn it, I don’t want to think that.”
“Neither do I, West but the facts are pointing in that direction.” She crouched down and hummed.
He knelt down beside her. “What’d you find?”
She used her pen to point.
“What the hell is that?”
“Paint. The kind you can spray on, then peel or wash off your car later on.”
“How’d you know to look for that? I’m impressed.”
“Dad was a cop I grew up looking for clues to everything. Fairly certain,” she said pushing to her feet. “They aren’t in a green vehicle anymore.” She patted her pockets. “Do you have a bag?”
“Sorry.”
“Do you mind getting me an evidence bag? Maybe they can track down the manufacturer of this one and find out who they sold it to.”
“Sure.” He hurried back to do as she asked. As he returned, he read her body language. She was holding back on something, he saw the pain in how she held herself. More than just physical too. He made a mental note to look deeper into the agents who’d been killed and find a connection. There was one, he just needed to locate it.
Later that night, while Teena slept on the couch trying to get a bit of sleep, he had his computer up and running. He pulled up the names of the ones they’d lost today. One name popped out at him.
Lucy McKenna.
The girl, well woman, she’d said was after him. Her friend. He angled himself in the chair and stole a glance at the woman sleeping over there. Badge still sat on her hip, glinting in the low light. Confident she wouldn’t be out long, just a small recharge. She wouldn’t allow herself a luxury of a long sleep, not when something this serious was on the line.
He got up and covered her with a blanket tossed over the back. Crouched beside her, he dragged his hand along the side of her face. Teena’s thick lashes rested on her cheeks and for a moment, she looked peaceful. Patrick wanted to keep that look on her face, wanted to protect her.