Chapter Sixteen
One week later…
“You sure you want to do this?” Mike asked Zola, eyeing her cautiously. She’d spent two nights in the hospital and then five nights at her father’s house under strict orders to rest.
Mike had also spent two nights in the hospital under the careful eye of the doctors. Both of them had suffered a concussion in the car crash. Unbelievably, neither of them had any broken bones. Cuts and scrapes. A few stitches to her forehead. A few butterflies to his hairline.
But they were in one piece and recuperating.
After their release, Mike had needed to take care of several things to wrap up the case with the CIA. Lambert had asked him to take another case, half teasingly, and Mike had told him where he could shove that idea, also half teasingly. After five nights sleeping without Zola in his bed, he had made his way to her father’s house and spent the next two nights lying next to her on top of the covers.
He wasn’t about to stress his tenuous relationship with her father any further than it already was by shoving their relationship in his face, but he also wasn’t going to sleep in another room where he couldn’t reach out every hour or so and make sure she was still real.
Mike had been surprised either Zola or her father had wanted to go back to the house at all. But they’d insisted. Finally, he and Zola had returned to Norfolk. Mike, for one, was glad he didn’t have to spend another day in the noisy environment where workers were doing repairs from the shootout in the den. The hammering alone had given him a constant headache.
Now they were back in Norfolk, and he was unlocking the front door of Tex’s house. He had it rented for another two weeks.
“Why wouldn’t I want to stay here? It’s gorgeous. The view is amazing. The inside is cozy. It couldn’t be any safer unless you posted guards outside. Plus, all the bad guys have been captured or killed, remember?” Even the released terrorists had been brought back into custody. None of them had ever been out of sight of the members of SWAT tracking them until they could be re-apprehended in the first place.
He shot her a glance as he turned the lock. He didn’t bother pointing out that the world was filled with bad guys, many of whom were still alive and well, some of whom were probably equally pissed with his feisty woman who put them in jail.
Instead, he pointed out the other obvious elephant. “It doesn’t bother you that two men were lurking around this place while we were luckily out to dinner?”
“Nope.” She passed under his arm as he swung the door open.
A moment later, he shut the door and reset the alarm.
“Everything is right where we left it.”
“I hope so,” he teased. “If it isn’t, we aren’t staying here tonight.”
She wrapped an arm around him and giggled. “I’ve missed you.”
He lifted a brow as he brushed her soft hair off her forehead, trying not to wince at the angry scar where the stitches had been removed yesterday. “I haven’t been out of your sight for two days. How could you miss me?”
She giggled again. “I wanted to see more of you.”
“More than every second except when you showered and used the bathroom?” He knew what she was telling him, but he still enjoyed the banter.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’d rather you be in the shower with me and wear far less clothing during the day and none at night.”
He pulled her closer, finding it hard to keep his hands off her if only to remind himself regularly she was still alive. “I think those things can all be arranged.”
“You don’t have to go back to work for two more weeks, right?”
“Nope.”
“And since I’m taking two weeks also, I say we make the most out of it. It has to last us awhile. Who knows where you’ll be sent or for how long.”
He wasn’t convinced this idea of the two of them going about their lives as normal was a good one, but until they came up with a better plan, they were stuck. She had mentioned bargaining with God during her hours of terror, but he argued that in the light of day she wasn’t cut out to waddle around barefoot and pregnant, baking cookies and making casseroles.
Within months she would regret the decision and it would eat at her until it came between them.
For the next two weeks, they had agreed to table the discussion and get to know each other all over again.
The first thing Mike wanted to do was peel off her clothes while backing her down the hall until they fell into bed. He intended to explore every inch of her, fulfilling every image he’d conjured in his mind for the last week.
It was probably for the best that she’d chosen to stay with her dad. If she’d gone back to her own condo, Mike probably wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands to himself, and she’d needed to recuperate.
He didn’t have the patience to head for the bedroom yet though. Instead, still standing inside the front door, he reached beneath her sweater and flattened his hands on her bare skin, making her shudder. “Ms. Carver, this shirt has got to go,” he stated as he shoved it up over her head and dropped it on the floor.
“Mr. Dorsen, tit for tat, I agree.” She grabbed the hem of his polo and dragged it over his head too, lifting onto tiptoes while he bent at the knees to help her.
“Ms. Carver,” he stated, unable to control his shock when he lowered his gaze to her tits. “Wherever did you get something so scandalous?” He cupped her breasts through the black lacy lingerie that barely covered her nipples and left miles of creamy flesh around the edges.
For a moment he couldn’t breathe. She was so stunning.
“You like?”
“God, Zola. You have to ask?” He thumbed both her nipples through the material, forcing a whimper from her lips.
“I guess that’s a yes,” she whispered breathily.
“Please tell me there’s a super skimpy swatch of lace that matches this excuse for a bra under your jeans.”
“You’ll have to take them off to find out,” she teased.
He slowly backed her up until her ass hit the wall next to the front door, and then he lowered to a crouch—ignoring the twitch in his knee—and popped the button on her jeans. When he slid the zipper down and then tugged the denim over her hips, his breath caught. “You naughty girl.”
She moaned, flattening her palms on the wall at her sides.
The matching item she wore under those jeans was not a pair of panties at all. It was a thong. And that was also a stretch. But that wasn’t the only thing that caught his eye. “You’re a super naughty girl.” He leaned forward, reverently inhaling her musk, unable to take his gaze off the small strip of well-groomed strawberry-blond hair that peeked out the top of the thong.
He didn’t take his eyes off her as he finished removing her jeans. He had to tap her feet to get her to kick her heels off, but when she did, he steadied her with a hand at her hip while she stepped out of the jeans.
“Zola…” His voice caught in his throat. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to stare at her in this thong that held only the tiniest of surprises behind it or if he wanted to yank it off her body to finish the visual in his head of what lay behind the triangle.
He decided on the first option for the time being and pressed a soft kiss to the lace before licking a line around the edge of the thong while she gasped and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.
When she lifted onto her toes once again, he took advantage of the extra few inches and dragged his tongue over her pussy, reaching between her legs to hit her folds.
She moaned, already so ready for him he could taste it. “We didn’t make it to the bedroom,” she mumbled.
“Overrated.” He grabbed her hips, held her steady, and sucked her clit into his mouth through the thong.
She squealed, pressing her pussy against him wantonly.
He eased his hands around until he could reach under the elastic with his thumbs, pulling the lace away from her pussy. When the air hit her, she gasped.
He reached under the material and stroked her folds with his tongue.
“Mike…” Her voice was distant, though he wasn’t sure if it was because she was so gone she had whispered or if he was so horny, his ears were ringing.
Either way he was lost to her. “I need to taste you, baby.”
“You have tasted me. Nothing has changed. Take your jeans off and make love to me.” She hesitated, and then added, “Please.”
Instead of heeding her advice, he eased her thong down her legs and pushed them wider. When he leaned forward to set his knees on the floor, his injured knee complained, but he adjusted his weight and focused on the feast before him.
Starting slow, to keep her on the edge, he stroked his thumbs over her lower lips and parted them.
She gasped when he pushed both thumbs an inch inside her, stretching her open. Her legs trembled, which made him even hornier. His cock was pressed uncomfortably tight in his jeans, but he didn’t want to stop enjoying her to adjust or take off his jeans yet.
When he set his mouth over her bare clit and sucked it between his lips, she rose onto her tiptoes, buried her fingers in his hair, and moaned.
He couldn’t tell if she was pushing on his head or trying to pull him closer, but he liked it. The sting of her fingers against his scalp caused his cock to stiffen further.
He flicked his tongue over her clit rapidly while her noises increased, the sounds rising and falling as he imagined her head rocking back and forth against the wall.
When she froze, her thighs going rigid against his shoulders, he flattened his tongue over her clit and inhaled long and slow while she came.
He held her close, keeping the intense pressure against her clit and inside her as she rode out the waves. It wasn’t until she lowered onto her flat feet and sighed that he eased out of her pussy and released her clit.
“Mike…” Sultry, sated, fulfilled.
He wiped his lips on his hand and rose in front of her, sliding his body along hers as he did. When he was fully standing, she tipped her head back, a languid, satisfied smile filling her entire expression.
She set her lips on his ear, mimicking the way he normally did hers. In a soft, sultry voice she whispered, “I don’t think you heard me.”
“What, baby?” he asked.
“Take your jeans off. Now.”
He grinned, but his hands went to his button, and then his zipper, and then he was shoving the denim down his thighs until the jeans fell to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and then his jeans while his lips found hers. He licked the seam of her mouth first, but when she let him in, he plunged, tasting every inch of her while sharing the flavor of her pussy.
If it squicked her out, he would never know. She faked it well, consuming him with as much desire as he did her.
She broke the kiss first, nibbling on his lips. “Now, Mike. I’m dying here.”
He grabbed her waist and lifted her off the floor, dragging her against the wall and holding her up under her arms. When she was high enough, he lodged his cock at her entrance and slowly lowered her over the tip.
He forced himself to watch her face, taking in every nuance as her eyes fluttered and then clouded and then closed. Her face was flushed a deep shade of red he loved on her. It made him increase his pace, knowing she was as aroused as him. Maybe more so.
He was close. So close. But he wanted to watch her come again first, so he kept his gaze on her and forced himself to ignore the driving need to come.
Her mouth fell open, her lips swollen and wet from their kiss. God, she was fucking gorgeous.
He gritted his teeth as he continued to lift her off him and then plunged back into her tight warmth. Just when he thought there was no way in hell he could hold off another second, she came. Her head slumped forward over his shoulder as she moaned louder and then repeated his name over and over. “Mike… Mike, Mike, Mike…”
He emptied himself inside her, holding her tight over his cock buried deep. His pulsing matched hers beat for beat.
Emotion swept through him. Damn, he loved her. Was it too soon to tell her? She told him as much before running from her father’s house a week ago, but that had been in an extremely stressful situation. Would she say it again now?
* * *
Zola had never been so happy in her life. Three blissful days of nothing but lounging around on the beach with the man she had loved for almost half her life. It was insane how things worked out. Their relationship was both new and old at the same time.
Everything they did in bed or even getting to know each other was fresh and fun, but on the flip side they fell into a comfortable pace that was no different from when they were teenagers. At heart, they had not changed. Their passion for their work and each other was the same. They each had fire and drive that most people they knew didn’t have.
In some couples that sameness would have been too much. Perhaps driven them apart. But not Zola and Mike. They thrived off talking over one another and falling in love all over again.
Ignoring their real lives and the jobs they had put on hold for two weeks, they spent most of their time naked in bed or wrapped up in coats on the beach where the temperature outside was frigid most days. Gorgeous but cold.
She giggled as she gripped his hand and dragged him farther down to the edge of the water. It was early in the morning. Most people weren’t out yet, and it wasn’t tourist season, so locals weren’t inclined to endure this cold.
He groaned. “How far are we going? I like you better inside the house. You wear too many layers when we come out here.”
She laughed again. “Get a grip, big guy. We’re getting some exercise. It’s called walking. It’s a half hour out of your day. The sun is warm. The waves are beautiful. The sand feels good beneath my tennis shoes. Lifting weights and running indoors on a treadmill aren’t the only forms of exercise on the planet.”
“I think I’m more inclined to go with your initial assessment the first day you arrived.”
“What was that?” She cocked her head to one side, her brow furrowed.
“You couldn’t figure out why someone would want to vacation on a cold beach at the wrong time of year.”
She rolled her eyes. “I get it now. I’m hooked. We get the best of both worlds. Days outside in the fresh air where we’re wearing too many clothes to be tempted, and nights inside naked where we’re wearing too few clothes to care about the beach. If it were summer, we wouldn’t even spend five minutes out here. One look at you in your trunks and I’d be hauling your ass back inside.”
His smile was infectious. And then he reared back and laughed. “That’s so complicated, I’m not even sure I followed your logic. But”—he enveloped her in his arms—“I do know I’m ready to go back into the house and switch to the naked part.” He kissed her soundly, sending a shudder down her body.
Every time his lips or hand or any part of him touched her, she nearly swooned. Her knees grew week. Her nipples pebbled. Her pussy moistened, preparing itself to take him. Which she would gladly do anywhere any time.
She was a new woman. Totally enamored. Her first real vacation in years, and definitely the first time she was with a man she really enjoyed and wanted to give herself to completely. Not just her body, but her soul.
So, what was the problem?
Niggling in the back of her mind was the fact that they had two separate lives. They were on the vacation of a lifetime, but it had to end. In eleven days, they would have to return to their real lives. Lives that didn’t mesh. Lives that were intense and happened in different states.
Sure, in the heat of things while she was being held hostage by madmen, she’d promised God she would gladly quit her job and become a housewife to a man who would take his next assignment God only knew where. However, in the light of day, she knew that would suffocate her.
It would kill her to leave her passion.
It would kill him to quit his work with the FBI.
Vacation was amazing. But life would creep back in to take over, and then what?
“Enough air,” he said. “Let’s go back inside.” He grabbed her hand and tugged.
She shook off the melancholy and followed him. His ass… Damn… Even in jeans it was fine. But naked… The thought of getting those jeans off him again…
She shuddered as he dragged her down the edge of the water back toward the house he had rented. She hoped one day she would get to meet the man he spoke to often. Tex. John Keegan. Obviously, they were close, even though Mike had never met the man in person either.
As they burst through the back door, laughing and peeling off layers, Mike’s cell phone rang in his pocket.
He pulled it out and took the call, his face still pink from the cold air and smiling broadly from their banter and the excitement of their next inevitable activity.
She tore off her gloves and dropped them on the table, turning to face him.
His expression had switched in a heartbeat, going from warm and happy to grim and concerned. His brow furrowed, and his lips fell. “Tex. Slow down. What the hell?”
She stopped removing layers and wrapped her arms around his middle, tipping her face up to meet his gaze. Her heart beat faster. Adrenaline replaced arousal.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He rubbed his forehead, refusing to meet her gaze.
That was the worst part of all. His eyes wandered around the room, never landing on hers. Though his arm snaked around her to hold her close, he still didn’t look at her.
“Right… Yes… Okay… Fuck… No… Motherfucking… Okay.” On that last word, his voice dropped and he set the phone on the counter behind him.
For long moments, she waited, no sound in the room except their breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Loud. In sync.
She knew as soon as one of them spoke, the world as they knew it was over.
Finally, Mike inhaled deeply, blew out the breath even longer, and lowered his gaze to hers. “Fucking Johanssons are still after you.”
“What?” she screamed.
He lowered his face to hers, grabbed her chin, and held her so that she had to look at him. “We’ll get these assholes. I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I will make you safe.”
“But why? I thought…” Her mind wandered through so many thoughts. Weren’t the Johanssons in cahoots with the four men who took her and her father hostage? They were all dead. The Johanssons had been taken in for questioning. It had been so obvious to Zola, and to Mike, that they were guilty of conspiring to get revenge. Surely they were behind bars?
“They were released last night. Apparently my contact at the CIA either didn’t know or failed to fill us in, but they got out on bond and are back at home as if they had never been arrested.”
“You’re shitting me?” How was that possible? Who the fuck was on that case? If she had been the attorney assigned to those idiots…
“I wish I was. But no. And Tex just happened to catch wind of their movement.”
“How?” she interrupted.
Mike grinned. “Tex is a genius. With a computer, he is a God. He had their movement flagged and knew before any of us they were out on bond and wreaking havoc once again.”
“And he thinks I’m in danger?” She fought the chill, holding Mike tighter.
“Worse than that. He knows you’re in danger. He watched every message they sent since their release and every communication they’ve had. The group of terrorists who held you hostage at your father’s house weren’t nearly as closely involved with the Johanssons as we thought. They had bigger fish to fry. They wanted the release of multiple terrorists. Mohammad Johansson was just one of a long list of terrorists. But the Johanssons aren’t satisfied since you haven’t paid for your part in getting their son put away, so they hired someone else to finish the job. We need to get out of here. Now.”
That was the last thing he said before a loud noise filled the air and her world flipped upside down.
Mike flattened her to the floor so fast he knocked the wind out of her. His body covered hers entirely. Her ears were ringing from the explosion. And the gorgeous sunny day was suddenly a cloud of darkness. Smoke filled the room.
Mike set his lips on her ear. “Don’t make a sound. Stay low.”
She couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to. Or maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe she would have started screaming, and that was what he was trying to avoid.
He eased himself to one side of her body, taking the pressure off while he reached with one hand to the small of his back where she knew he kept a gun.
She fought the need to cough in the smoke-filled room, covering her mouth with her hand. All she could think about was how much damage the house had endured. It wasn’t their house. It belonged to Mike’s good friend. And because of them, it was in shambles.
Rationally, she knew she should be more worried about her life and Mike’s, but her mind shut that down in favor of concern for the destruction of property. Guilt ate at her.
Suddenly she realized Mike was talking to her. “Zola, babe. Zola?” He was whispering next to her ear, but urgently.
She yanked her eyes open and blinked at him.
“We need to move.”
Move? Where? She couldn’t focus. Her mind was scrambled.
He eased a hand under her lower back and tugged her up against him as he rose enough to lean her against the kitchen island, her butt on the floor, her feet stretched out in front of her. He cupped her chin. “Zola? Look at me.”
She forced herself to focus on him, blinking. He was blurry. Or it was cloudy in the room. Or she was about to faint. Was there smoke? She didn’t know what.
He spoke again, sounding far away. “Babe—” Gunfire cut him off.
Zola started to scream.
Mike slammed a hand over her mouth and leaned forward to cover her body with his more completely. He pushed her head down and twisted his body around, holding his gun up.
Drywall rained down around her, landing in her hair and all over their clothes.
“Come on.” He grabbed her wrist and dashed across the kitchen in a crotched position, dragging her along behind him at a crawl.
At least no one was shooting at them for a few seconds. She had no idea what direction the shots had come from. When they reached the pantry, Mike opened the door slowly and ushered her inside.
Panic made her draw back, tugging on his wrist. “No,” she insisted. The idea of being trapped inside a small closet seemed horrifying.
He ignored her, reached to the back of the pantry, and pulled open a small door she had never seen at ground level. “Safe room. Get inside. I’ll lock it from out here. Don’t open it for anyone. It’s on a code. No one else can get in. Tex knows the code. Either I will open this door, or he will send someone else.”
Her panic grew at the idea of separating from him. “No.” She shook her head. “Unless you’re coming in with me.” How had she not known about the safe room?
He eased her smaller body closer, kissed her forehead, and then nudged her toward the entrance. “There’s a door on the other side too. It leads to the master bedroom closet.” He reached in and pulled something out. A flashlight. He handed it to her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She couldn’t stop shaking her head. But it did no good. He all but pushed her through the entrance. With one last touch to her face, he met her gaze as she scrambled to turn around. “I love you.” And then the door shut with a snick, cutting off almost all sound.
Panic like she’d never known set in as she turned on the flashlight and glanced around the room. She would have been impressed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
Tex’s safe room was stocked with everything. It wasn’t large, but it was big enough to stand up and wide enough for two people to lie on the air mattress she saw in the corner. Why did Tex have such an impressive safe room? Was he paranoid in general? Or did he have the sort of job that put him in danger? Probably the latter.
With a deep exhale, she turned off the light, leaned against the wall, set her chin on her drawn-up knees, and prayed to God Mike got them out of this situation and didn’t get himself dead.