Bounty Hunters: 03 Stay Hungry (25 page)

Jake was an intense man. In spite of his casual attitude and the way his eyes glowed with a hungry passion she couldn't wait to know firsthand, he didn't fool her for a moment. Maybe his phone ringing so much should bother her, too. What if there was a lady for him back in California and she was desperately trying to reach him?

There wasn't a spoken commitment between him and Angela. There wasn't any commitment at all. She didn't do one-night stands and she sure as hell didn't have sex with married men or men in commitments. She wasn't the kind of woman who could make love to a man just to enjoy the physical release. There had to be an attraction. And it had to be mutual interest that would possibly take the two of them somewhere more permanent.

So what the hell was she doing now? She wanted Jake. God, she'd wanted him a year ago when she'd first laid eyes on him. Something about Jake turned her on physically and emotionally. He hadn't given any indication that her feelings for him were mutual. The only thing he'd made obvious was that he really wanted to fuck her. But fucking and making love were different.

If Jake was the kind of man who could bring any lady to her knees, that very well could mean he'd done just that with women back in California. And there were women. Jake's roguish playboy personality was so well established there were comments about it in some of the articles she'd read about KFA.

The look he gave her was too focused, too deep and determined, for her to believe he would look at any other woman that way. He might have skills, but he wasn't shallow. She felt his emotions right along with his lust.

But what were the emotions she was sensing? Were they all driven by one hell of a sex drive and an insatiable lust that he didn't keep hidden from her?

She lifted herself to relax on her elbow and blinked to focus on his face. That hard look was still there. His green eyes focused on her, but they were opaque, not glowing as they did when he teased her or when they discussed the case. It was those moments she enjoyed with him, when his passion flared, not only for her but also for the hunt. They were two souls with so much in common, but if there was another side to him, encouraged and fine-tuned as a result of him being so incredibly appealing, having sex with him might be her biggest mistake ever, Angela would give him a piece of her heart, and he wouldn't give her anything in return other than incredible sexual satisfaction.

When he didn't answer but continued staring at her, torturing her with the nearness of so much carnal, unleashed sex appeal reverberating off his tall, overpowering body, she decided to probe a bit harder. "If you need a minute to return a phone call, I won't go anywhere. I promise," she offered, moistening her lips and studying him for his reaction.

"It's simply a friend who doesn't know I'm out here." Jake slid his arm under the curve of her neck and pulled her on top of him. His hooded gaze made it harder to read how he felt about the interruption. His attention was on her breasts as he adjusted her against him.

His cock immediately danced between them, stretching and throbbing. Angela's insides swelled. She was already soaked, but as she stretched her legs, straddling him, she felt the moisture cling to her freshly shaved flesh.

"Your skin is so incredibly soft," he said, changing the subject before she could question him further.

Call it the detective in her, but immediately she was curious whether this friend was a man or a woman. Angela was about to make love to Jake. That made it somewhat her business. She had a right to know if another woman was trying hard to reach him when Angela was ready to become intimate with him.

"Every inch of you," Jake continued, dragging his hands down her back until he reached her ass. He cupped it, stretching and spreading her open further as he kneaded her flesh. His fingers inched closer to the source of her heat. "Damn," Jake growled, his eyes glazing over as he finally met her gaze. "Already I can feel the heat, and how wet you are," he added, lowering his voice as he grumbled the last words. "You're going to scald me alive," he added, lowering his attention to her mouth.

"You know, I can feel you, too," she said, and wiggled her hips against him.

Jake growled, the sound rising up through his chest and vibrating through her at the same time that his dick thrust up and poked her in the belly. This was how it would be for now. They hadn't known each other long enough to voice any type of commitment. Her brain was quickly fogging over with lust and the overwhelming need to ease him inside her and experience what all this raw sexual being could offer her. Angela had to leave it at that. Nothing more. If as they continued spending time together they determined there was something between them to explore, than they would discuss it at that time. For now, at this moment, she would do something she'd never done before: experience sex as a physical pleasure and not as uniting two bodies together when their minds had already melded.

"What are you thinking, sweetheart?" Jake asked.

His question surprised her. She'd just convinced herself to keep her thoughts out of this and take it on as a physical release and Jake tried probing her mind along with her body. He was making her teeter back and forth between the physical and emotional.

The only thing to do was control the moment and guide him to where she wanted him. "I'm trying to decide how I'm going to take you," she said, lying through her teeth but knowing if she kept it physical she wouldn't be eaten alive with worry that she was making a big mistake.

"Is that so?" He lifted one eyebrow and searched her face, the glow returning in his gaze. "I would have said you were wondering if this was the right thing to do or not."

Damn him for reading her mind so well. Especially when he'd turned into a blank slate for her. She let herself drown in his intense gaze. The man was as powerful intellectually as he was physically. That really appealed to her.

"Are you suggesting I'm the kind of woman who would change her mind once I was sprawled naked on top of you?" she challenged.

Angela felt a wave of control grip her. She liked how Jake appeared in pain, overwhelmed with hunger that ate at him until her giant, muscular man was damn near putty in her hands.

He tried moving his hands and preventing her from rising off of him but didn't succeed. Angela pushed herself to a sitting position, still straddling him. The position had his dick dangerously close to her entrance. It pulsed and danced, continuously moving and trying to grab her attention long enough to distract her. This new position also made Jake move his hands, which helped her hold on to her yearning for him to be inside her and allowed her to tease him just a bit longer.

Jake gripped her breasts, bracing her and at the same time squeezing and tugging her sensitive flesh. Waves of need washed over her, and she arched into his touch, refusing to let her brain focus on any regret that might come after they were through. If this was just physical, she would make the best of it and take as much as she gave.

When he chuckled, it pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked down. Her hair streamed over her shoulders, covering her breasts and his hands and shrouding her with long, black locks.

"I know you want this as much as I do, but you're so damn wet I think you might be torturing yourself as much as you are me." He lifted his hips off the bed, causing her to fall forward. Jake grabbed her, held her in place, and rubbed the tip of his cock against her smooth flesh. "I promise there won't be any regrets, darling," he whispered.

Angela gripped his forearms, embracing the strength and power emanating from his body. She used it to fuel her confidence. But looking down to see his face when he spoke wasn't as simple. If she moved at all, he would slide inside her. She wasn't prolonging their torture, but there was the smallest part of her brain still arguing with her. Even though she was sure she wanted to go through with this and knew backing down now would piss him off, she wasn't so insecure or meek that she wouldn't take on his temper if she decided this wasn't the time or the right thing to do.

That's when she realized she wasn't holding herself off of him. Jake was holding her up. He was keeping her from sliding down on him. "Are you saying that to me, or to yourself?" she asked, and moved her legs so she regained control of when she would lower herself onto him.

Jake growled, and for the first time she noticed frustration in him and not sexual need. He moved her, causing her to roll onto the bed next to him. Her head found one of the many pillows and she sunk into it. Jake tangled their legs together as he nestled into her, pulling her up against him so when she inhaled, his masculine scent wrapped around her.

"What is it about you?" he asked, his expression torn as he brushed hair from her face. "You annoyed the crap out of me when you wouldn't make love to me the other night. Now I'm holding back until I'm positive you want me. I need to know I'm really who you want," he whispered, his voice gravelly.

He wasn't smiling. Possibly since meeting her, Jake was sharing a part of himself he didn't let many see. His expression seemed raw, almost vulnerable. Angela was hit with an overwhelming urge to reach out, stroke his apprehension away, and assure him she wanted this, too. But hadn't she just been ransacked with emotions that warned her against doing anything that might go against what she viewed as right?

She jumped at the sound of Jake's phone ringing.

"God damn it," Jake cursed, rolling away from her and moving to sit with his back to her as he grabbed his phone.

For a moment, Angela thought he might hurl the phone across the room. Roped muscle flexed in his back, showing off his incredibly perfect body. Without seeing his face Angela still knew he was ransacked with more than just frustration. Some more primitive emotion warred inside him. She pushed herself up against the pillows, wondering for a moment if it wouldn't be best to get dressed.

"What is it?" he snarled, answering his phone and using a tone harsher than he'd used before.

It shouldn't surprise her that the carefree Jake would have a serious side to him. Apparently he also had a fuse that could easily reach its limit if pushed far enough. She didn't know if the phone ringing repeatedly sent him there or if turmoil over making love to her when they didn't have an established commitment ate at him as it did at her.

If the latter was the case, it made Jake damn near the most perfect man she'd ever met. Something twisted around her heart as she stared at his backside and worked to understand the man sitting naked on the edge of her bed.

"There's no one out there I want to talk to," he said, sounding really angry. "And last time I checked, you weren't my answering service. Why are you calling to tell me this? Is there something work related you called to talk about?"

Angela perked up, his words confusing her. She wanted to know who he was talking about but, even more, what messages were just given to him that he didn't want to receive. Apparently someone was desperately trying to reach Jake and he didn't want to talk to them. Her chest constricted. If there was unfinished business in Jake's life, it would create tension between them.

There was something sizzling between them. It had been since the beginning when they met a year ago. But nothing mattered as much as finding Marianna and ending the game.

"What? Wait a minute," Jake said, moving off the bed and stalking to the other side of the suite. Muscles flexed in his legs as he walked. His back was taut with roped muscles stretching underneath his smooth flesh. But it was his mannerisms that created anxiety inside her. As she watched while he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call, it was obvious the call upset him as much as his phone ringing over and over again. "Natasha, since you're obviously calling to make a point, spit it out and say it. I don't want to hear any messages."

Angela saw his profile when he turned. Whoever Natasha was, Jake wasn't pleased with her. Angela wasn't sure she'd ever seen him this angry.

"Either tell them not to call anymore or let them know I'm not interested. I don't really care." Jake blew out an exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his hair, messing up the curls around his head. "That's none of your business. I'm just not interested anymore. No, not in any of them."

Jake listened to Natasha a minute longer, then mumbled something and hung up his phone. For a moment he glared at the ground; then moving toward Angela, he didn't make eye contact as he grabbed his clothes and dressed.

"You deserve the best, Angela," he muttered, straightening his shirt and heading toward the door. "That sure as hell isn't me."

Chapter Thirteen

Jake sat in his parked car, killing about ten more minutes before the sun began disappearing on the horizon. Angela had left with Mario, and the last Jake spoke to her it had been on the phone, her tone all business. She would text him, sending a 1 if she was returning to the Drake and a 2 if Mario took her to his home. If there were an emergency, she'd text 0.

He hadn't even seen her before she left. Which was his fault.

Jake hadn't expected Angela to run after him when he'd left his suite. He had told himself the phone ringing nonstop had ruined the moment, but inside he'd known the truth. It still rose like a ruthless bile, forcing him to face up to it when he really didn't want to.

Angela was crawling under his skin when no other woman had ever been able to do so. This wasn't the first time he'd met a lady and not taken her to bed right away. Oftentimes building the suspense until they did fuck simply prolonged the excitement and, finally, the thrill of the act. With Angela, he felt as if he'd already waited forever.

But when Marla tried reaching him, then April, women he hadn't seen in well over a month, he'd taken his frustration and embarrassment out on his cousin. And she'd fed his pride to him on a spoon, which she'd shoved deep down his throat. Natasha was tired of taking calls for him, saying whatever it took to get the ladies off the phone. He should be flattered that so many women were persistently trying to reach him, but instead he was ashamed.

If Angela found out women were trying to reach him while he was busy falling head over heels for her, she wouldn't speak to him again. That thought did worse than leave an unpleasant taste in his mouth. The trepidation tightening in his gut damn near made him sick to his stomach. He wanted Angela, more than sexually. Jake wanted her as his woman. He'd never felt this way before, and it was scaring the crap out of him.

"The hell with it." Jake opened his car, which was parked down the street from Mandela's, and tugged on the black shirt he'd put on along with jeans and comfortable tennis shoes. He was dressed to climb, fight, run, and duck into cramped places. And it was time to focus on doing that and not where he stood with Angela.

It was so muggy, Jake's shirt stuck to his body. Even after he had sat with the AC cranked in his rental car all the way over here, perspiration beaded on his forehead. Part of it was nerves. He couldn't afford to stress over Angela. Not right now. Everything was about to blow open; the sizzling energy just under his flesh told him as much.

He hadn't waited more than fifteen minutes after Angela left to head out from the Drake. Mandela had already left his house. Jake slowed and cut off the road into a nearby cluster of trees with thick grass that appeared well maintained growing in their shade. As soon as he'd walked around the curve, the intimidating-looking estate came into view. He stared, confused, at Mandela's place.

A small procession was leaving Mandela's home. Two nondescript black SUVs, possibly Excursions, although Jake couldn't be sure from this distance, pulled out of Mandela's driveway. A moving truck, not the largest there was but a good-sized one that might be used to move several pieces of furniture or a dozen people or so, followed the SUVs onto the street. Jake stared at the taillights of the truck as the black rod iron gate automatically closed and locked itself with a clang. It was time to make his call. Jake shifted the car into drive.

His rental wouldn't make it in a high-speed chase. The little four cylinder was good for long-distance traveling or allowing tourists to get around the town they were in. Fortunately, that moving truck wasn't in a hurry to get where it was going.

His suspicions mounted as he watched the truck leave the gate. They were moving all of the kidnapped victims. He could stay where he was and investigate the outbuilding after they left. Or he could go with his hunch and follow the truck and SUVs. He didn't have much time to decide. On an impulse, Jake sprinted back to his car.

He kept a safe distance and didn't turn on his lights until he passed the gate. As he glanced down the narrow black paved road on the other side of the security fence that led to Mandela's mansion, Jake spotted a man standing just inside the gate. For one brief moment the two men locked gazes. Jake hadn't turned on his lights so he could get a better view of Mandela's property. The man pulled something off his waist, and for an instant Jake clenched, gearing up for an attack. The guy put the object to the side of his head. He was calling someone. The only thing to do was play the friendly idiot. Jake waved and turned on his headlights.

He couldn't swear to it, but Jake thought the man was Bobby. It wouldn't surprise him if the guy was calling to worn them of a tail. Jake wasn't sure how that moving van would be able to pull off shaking Jake free. Unfortunately, though, he couldn't see the two black SUVs in front of the truck.

When they neared the on-ramp for Interstate 190, Jake slowed to merge into traffic. The car behind him didn't. Bright headlights damn near blinded him, hitting every mirror in his compact car.

"Son of a bitch," Jake hissed, squinting and pulling off the merge. The truck in front of him hit the interstate and immediately merged through traffic. Jake couldn't tell whether the SUVs were still in front of him or not.

As the vehicle behind him, which very well could be one of the SUVs judging by the size and positioning of the headlights, continued tailgating Jake, he began thinking he'd made the right call in following the truck. Although with the driver behind him hell-bent on making Jake's driving experience hell, it was harder to focus.

"Damn it!" he howled when the truck took the next exit.

Jake was in the wrong lane. He'd grown up in Los Angeles and learned to drive in some dangerous traffic, but that also meant he knew when not to pull off a jackass move and try hard-lining it across the lanes to make the exit as well.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled, slamming his hand against the steering wheel as he continued in his lane to the next exit. The chances of finding the truck once he was off the interstate were nil to none. "Crap," he seethed under his breath. "Fucking headlights."

That's when he realized the SUV had backed off. Jake glanced at his rearview mirror, searching for the vehicle. There were a lot of cars behind him and around him. None of them were much larger than the vehicle he was in.

"What the fuck?" He focused ahead of him, watching the exit signs and the large green signs overhead.

Jake squinted at the cars ahead of him, then, on an impulse, picked up speed. He ignored the next exit and instead began pacing a large black SUV. It was an Excursion. There wasn't any way of knowing if it was the same vehicle that had left Mandela's mansion, but if it was, and the truck had taken an exit to lose Jake, his hunch was right. They were transporting the kidnapped victims to another location.

"The airport," he said, his insides pumping with adrenaline as he moved to the middle lane, ready to cut to either side if he needed to make a quick exit.

The SUV continued on its course for another fifteen minutes or so. Jake could only guess the second SUV had gotten on Jake's ass to distract him so he wouldn't be able to follow the truck. When the truck got off the interstate and lost Jake, the SUV had either followed or slowed drastically, allowing enough cars in and around Jake to prevent him from seeing his tracker. That didn't mean all vehicles might not have the same destination. If it was the airport, O'Hare was one of the largest airports in the world. It would be worse than finding a needle in a haystack if Jake didn't stay on the ass of at least one of the vehicles.

There wasn't any proof he was following one of the SUVs that had left Mandela's. Jake could be wasting his fucking time. Nothing sucked worse than a wild-goose chase. If he was following the right SUV, it would try losing him, too, if he gave himself away. Jake held back a safe distance, allowing a few cars in front of him, but tracked the black SUV that was maintaining a good clip in the right lane.

When he started seeing signs for the airport, his heart began thumping in his chest. There was something exhilarating about taking on a chase blindly. Obviously it was better when he had a good clue where his perp was headed. But when Jake didn't, pursuing at high speed, knowing anything could happen at any moment, was beyond invigorating.

Jake glanced at the digital clock on his dash. Almost an hour had passed since he'd left Mandela's, which meant Angela was well into her evening by now. If Jake speculated too much on how her night was going, it would possibly be all the diversion he needed to lose his possible perp. No way would Jake call off this chase and admit defeat until he knew beyond a doubt the SUV in front of him had nothing to do with Mandela. Something told Jake it did, though.

He jumped at the sound of his cell phone vibrating. Without radio or any other diversions, his phone sounded exceptionally loud. Jake grabbed it, not taking his eye off the road, and glanced at the screen while bracing it against his steering wheel.

How are you doing?
The message was from Angela.

Worried about me, sweetheart?

Another advantage of growing up and learning to drive in the big city was that Jake could text and drive without taking his eyes off the road. He also knew it was against the law. Jake placed the phone next to him, not looking at the screen as he returned her text message. He wasn't sure if she was worried about him or not. Jake was worried sick about her. He was in uncharted waters with Angela and botching the hell out of it so far. He needed to analyze his feelings for her and what he perceived as her feelings for him, although he had never dwelt that much on any lady before. Worse yet, he couldn't afford the time. All of his attention needed to be on what he was doing now. Jake grabbed his phone and sent a second message.

How is your dinner date?

Mere seconds passed when his phone buzzed again.
Relocated.
Jake stared at the one-word message. Was Angela telling him the kidnapped victims were being moved? He kept the phone at his side as he typed:
Where?

Silence grew too loud in the car. He waited as every inch of him remained tense. Jake white-knuckled the steering wheel. The black SUV ahead continued at a steady speed, and his phone sat next to him, silent.

He wasn't any better off than he'd been a few minutes ago. Although he knew Angela was okay and able to send a text message, hopefully without feeling her life was in danger by doing so. He still hated not knowing the details of where she was and what she was doing.

"Yes!" he said out loud, damn near cheering, when his phone vibrated. Jake grabbed it, positioning it in his hand so he could see the screen while keeping an eye on the road. He stared at the message, reading it several times over, although it didn't make any more sense regardless of how many times he stared at the screen.

It's a trap.

"It's a trap," he muttered out loud, and diverted his attention to the road ahead of him when a car cut him off. "What's a trap?"

Another time he would have chewed out the driver and possibly cut into the other lane, then accelerated just to show the cocky driver who'd slipped in front of him that Jake wouldn't tolerate rude driving. This time, though, he slowed slightly, looking past the car in front of him to the black SUV several cars ahead and in the right-hand lane. Signs overhead announced the airport exits would begin a few miles ahead.

"What are you talking about, sweetheart?" he asked the dark silence around him. Did she mean somehow whoever had seen Jake drive past Mandela's driveway had tipped off Mandela and the drivers in the truck and the SUVs? If so, maybe Jake was being led on a wild-goose chase while the other SUV and truck were headed in a different direction toward their destination.

There was no way of knowing. But Angela knew. He glanced at his phone, needing more information. Lowering it to the seat next to him, Jake typed his message.

Where's the trap?

This time the response came almost immediately:
Turn around.

What if Angela wasn't sending the messages? Jake stared at the screen. He'd been positive of what he'd seen when he witnessed the truck and black Excursions leaving Mandela's. It made sense they would move the kidnapped victims, and doing it at night fit the bill even better. Although Jake could have remained at Mandela's, scoured the place once the trucks and SUVs left, it would have surprised the crap out of him if he'd found the kidnapped victims. Now that they were almost at the airport, turning around seemed ridiculous.

"Unless you're following the wrong black SUV," he mused, focusing on the tail lights of the SUV and trying to determine if they were the same make and year as the vehicles that had left Mandela's driveway. Jake really hadn't seen any of the lights other than those of the truck.

The black Excursion took the next exit without signaling.

"Crap!" Jake swerved into the next lane, hit the far-right lane, and made the exit. "Don't fool me twice!" he snapped, his heart pounding in his chest.

He slowed, taking a look at his surroundings. There was a convenience store on the corner when he stopped at the intersection. Otherwise, they'd exited on the far edge of the airport. Most people would take one of the exits ahead of them if they were going to park and head to one of the terminals.

The SUV headed forward, past the convenience store. A sign next to the road indicated there was long-term parking ahead one and a half miles. Jake waited until the SUV had driven a fair distance before he proceeded through the stop sign.

It was easier to focus once the lights from the convenience store were behind him. The road ahead was straight and dark. Lights illuminating the parking garage and roads leading away from it looked like those of a fat, squatty Christmas tree. Between him and the light show, it was a field of inky blackness. Jake cursed when the brake lights flashed on the black Excursion. Already he knew their game. A few moments later it pulled off on the side of the road ahead of him.