Fearless For Love (Lovelly #3) (29 page)

“CAN YOU CHECK up on these names for me?” I slide a piece of paper across the table to Neil. We’re holed up in a warehouse on the outskirts of Jacksonville,  getting everything set up for the last leg of the race. In ten days’ time, we’ll have Stamos and the other crime lords tagged and bagged.

And then finally,
finally
, Jess and I can be together without feeling like a gun’s trained on our backs.

Benson comes into the room and the conversation around me comes to a stop as everyone turns to look at her.

“Assistant Director Benson,” Wilson says. She looks around casually, as if she’s done all of this, coordinating a high profile strike team, a million times before. I suppose she probably has, given that she’s been in the bureau for thirty years already.

“Agent Wilson.” She returns his greeting before turning to me. “Agent Lovelly.”

“Ma’am.” I give her a firm handshake.

“Looks like you’ve done it, Agent,” she compliments, looking around at the diagrams and strategy notes littered across the table and posted up around the room.

“Did you doubt my prowess?”

She smiles. An honest to God smile. She picks up a piece of paper and asks, “So, tell me, what’s the plan here?”

I look to Wilson, quirking my eyebrow in question, and he gestures for me to go ahead and explain.

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” I pick up a map and lay it on the table, over Neil’s laptop. He gives me an incredulous look as he shakes his head and gets up. “I needed the space . . . ? Thanks, man.”

“All right, so this is where the fight’s supposed to happen.” I pick up a marker, place the cap end between my teeth, and pull off the bottom, marking the appropriate building with a bright red circle. “And here is where Team A, B, and C will be positioned.” I place an
X
where each of the teams will be. “The fight doesn’t start until eleven p.m. Saturday night. But thanks to our man Harris, we know that there’s a large number of private jets coming into town, all within a two hundred mile radius and between Friday and Saturday.” I look at Benson, then to Wilson. When I see I still have their rapt attention, I continue. “Since I’m expected to be in-house by nine p.m. that night, for drinks and pre-party celebrations and what not, I’ll be inside ground zero.”

“What about backup?” Benson asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, here’s the thing about that.” I shoot a quick look to Wilson, who nods slightly, and then turn back to Benson. “Since we don’t really have anyone else at ground zero, and don’t have time for another agent to infiltrate their way into the private event, I want Fisher Young as my backup.”

“I thought Agent Young was suspended? And how the hell will you sneak him in, if we can’t get other agents on the VIP list?”

I lick my lips. Here goes nothing. “Assistant Director Benson . . . Fisher has been acting as my inside man all this time. He’s the reason I went looking into Stamos in the first place, and I have no doubt that he’ll have my back no matter what.”

A muscle pops in her jaw, and she looks like she’s about to lose a tooth or two from the way she’s grinding her teeth. “Did you know about this?” She shoots the question to Wilson.

“Yes, ma’am. As did you. I filed the paperwork authorizing Agent Fisher to act as a consultant a couple weeks ago,” Wilson responds. But what he doesn’t say is that I’d already been using him as backup long before that.

Benson grumbles, glaring. “You know I don’t have time to look over every requisition form. You were banking on the fact that I wouldn’t notice until after this mission was over, weren’t you, Wilson?”

“Not at all. My unbiased opinion is that we should enlist his help during this mission. He’s been an asset to this case so far, and I have no reason to believe he won’t be now.”

“Unbiased? Wilson, you’re nothing but biased when it comes to that boy.” She points at me. “And this one too.”

He shrugs. “Can you blame me? Besides, Agent Young knows Stamos and his men. He’s already in place to act as Agent Lovelly’s backup. I can only see that as an asset.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it,” she responds, crossing her arms and looking down at the map once more.

Wilson winks at me.

“What about eyes and ears?” Benson asks.

“We’ve got that covered.” I snap my fingers toward Neil. He looks up from yet another laptop, one he apparently commandeered from the analyst hovering over his shoulder. “Harris, can you pull up our feed for ground zero?”

“Yes, Agent Lovelly.” His fingers move faster with each passing moment, until he finally slows down to a single click, and then another. “Here we go. Live feed’s pulling up now.”

Sixteen different shots of the building across the street, both interior and exterior, pop up on the bank of fifty-five inch TVs mounted to the wall. “We have a total of sixty-four camera’s hacked, with coverage from the basement to the storage closet on the top floor. As for audio, we have connection to thirty of those cameras, the ones most likely to have heavy foot-traffic,” I say, walking toward the wall and indicating the rotating images on the screen like I’m showing off a game show contestant’s potential prize.

“Impressive. How did you manage that?” Benson asks, and I’m only mildly shocked to see that she actually does seem impressed. It’s almost as surprising as the flush coloring Harris’s cheeks.

“Well, ma’am, the credit goes completely to Harris here. He’s our man.”

She arches an eyebrow, and Harris, if at all possible, turns a shade redder, the blush creeping to the tips of his ears. “Do I even want to know how he gained such experience?”

“No, ma’am. Not really.” I grin.

“Okay.” She turns her attention to the screens and I see Harris breathe a sigh of relief in the background. “Do you have a plan B?”

“Plan B, ma’am?” I ask.

“You’re kidding me, right?” She sounds surprised. “Agent Lovelly, every good agent has a plan B, maybe even a plan C, for when things go wrong.”

“Oh.
That
plan B and C. Right.” I wink at Wilson, who suppresses his laughter as Benson scowls, clearly not amused with my shenanigans. I sober instantly and continue. “If things don’t go as planned, then we’ll have Team B go in through the back door. Fisher will get the cards that gain our team access to the club’s inner arena.” I go on to explain how they’ll hit the west wing of the building first, and then the second floor. How we know, from what Roberto told us, the exact location where Stamos will be meeting with the others, and how that meeting’s supposed to take place during the headliner fight. My fight.

“Impressive,” Benson says again.

“And as for plan C—”

“You actually have a plan C?” she asks, clearly surprised.

“You said it yourself, Assistant Director. A good agent always plans for as many outcomes as possible, and I’m one hell of a great agent.” I smile and go into the details for plan C, which involves how we plan to track Stamos and the other bosses if, for some reason, they manage to escape. We also have the local police department on standby, in case we need them to put up blockades on all the major highways leading into and out of the area, and the FAA ready to forward the tail numbers of any unregistered flight plans.”

“Okay. I’m sold,” Benson says, nodding in approval. I grin wide. I can’t believe it actually worked. I mean, I knew my plan was solid—Wilson, Harris, and everyone on the strike team approved of it—but convincing Assistant Director Benson is notoriously more difficult.

“Nice work, Agent,” she says, turning back to the spread of blueprints and files on the table. “Now, walk me through the steps one more time.”

It takes us another two hours to iron out the logistics and answer all of Benson’s Devil’s advocate questions, then we’re packing up, ready to call it a day. But before I leave, I remember I wanted to do one more thing.

“Harris.” I jog over to him.

“Yes, Agent Lovelly.” He doesn’t look up as he continues to pack away his laptop and an assortment of cables and files.

“I have one more favor to ask you.” I pause, then add, “A personal one.”

This time he does look up, surprise lifting his eyebrows and widening his eyes. “Yeah, of course. Anything.”

“Can you dig into Vincent Gallo’s family for me, please? I want to know everything, any little detail you can find on his step-mother or his three half-brothers.”

“Sure, Agent. No problem. Anything else?” He finishes gathering his things and closes his messenger bag as he waits for further instructions.

“Once you find dirt on the woman, I need you to get in touch with Gary DiNera and pass along a message to him. Give him the file with everything you find and tell him it’s a personal favor from me. Tell him that if he can take care of this case, his debt to me is taken care of.”

“You bet, Agent Lovelly. I’ll get on it right away.” He shoulders his messenger bag and smiles.

“You’re wonderful, Harris. You know that?”

“I do, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

I grin at him and smack him on the back. “You are one hell of an analyst, Harris. And if Satan’s coming after my ass, there’s no one I’d have on my team than you.”

He chuckles. “Good luck to you, Agent Lovelly.”

After that, I pull my phone from pocket and call Fisher. He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a message telling him to call me back. I want to text Jess and let her know I’m on my way home, but I also want to surprise her. So instead, I pocket my phone and head out to my car. I jump in and fire up the ignition, my foot itching to put the pedal to the metal so I can be home soon.

BY THE TIME practice wrapped up with a very awkward, terse sort of goodbye, I was exhausted. The guys could tell something had happened, but neither Jarod nor I said anything. In fact, Jarod flat-out ignored me—a fact I was incredibly happy about—and Tom hovered around me like he was afraid I’d have a mental breakdown any second. The combination of it all meant that I was more than ready to get out of there when Tom called rehearsal to an end.

Cat picked me up, since Harrington had to meet with his boss, and the only thing I could think about on the way home was how amazing a hot shower and my bed were going to feel.

She lets me out at the base of our stairs and then drives off to park the car. I stumble up the three flights of stairs, pulling my keys from my purse as I go. I unlock the door and pull it open, stepping inside and kicking the door closed behind me. I look up and freeze, my heart going pitter-patter as I stare at the man before me.

“Harrington,” I whisper.

I’m equal parts surprised and excited to see him, my earlier exhaustion melting away in a flash. His hair is disheveled, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, but the moment he looks at me, a cocky smile appears on his face.

Before I can utter a word,  he crosses the space between us. He wraps his arms around me, lifting me up and swinging me around until my back is to the closed door. His face is so close to mine as he leans in, placing one hand next to my head, against the door, as the other drops to my hip. I can feel my pulse beat against my neck and temples, and I lick my lips involuntarily.

“Miss me?” he mumbles, before he claims my mouth like he’s laying his claim to my body. My body readily agrees. His mouth is demanding as he tilts his head, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, prodding them to part. Like a puppet, I succumb to his demands. My mouth opens, welcoming him.

He makes this sort of deep, animalistic rumble that sets my senses on fire. His tongue slides over mine, tasting me like he’s a starving man who’s finally found food.

I don’t know how or why, but this kiss, unlike all the others we’ve shared, makes me want to cry. When he pulls his head back, he’s breathing heavily. The green in his hazel eyes pops as he drags his thumb along my lower lip.

“Wow.” I grin. “Tha—that was something else,” I whisper. My lips still tingle from the kiss.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I missed you,” he groans.

“I missed you too. But how did you get in here?” I ask.

He gives me a sly smile. “Fisher loaned me the key Cat gave him so I could surprise you.”

And then his mouth is once again crashing against mine. His hand tightens over my hip as I flick my tongue along his. He moans, his hips grinding into mine. I think I moan too, but I can’t tell because my mind is lost in the sea of fog he has me under.

His hand slides down the outside of my hip, over my thigh, and then toward the edge of my shorts, following it all the way to the curve of my rear. Then he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, his hips fitting snug against mine. I feel him pushing against me, but there are too many layers between us.

“Harry,” I moan into his mouth, as sharp spikes of pleasure shoot through me. My arms circle his neck. He walks us like that across the living room, down the hall, and all the way to my bedroom, kissing me the entire time.

He kicks the door closed behind him and once again turns until my back is braced against the door. I grunt at the impact, though I know he wasn’t trying to slam me into it.

“Shhhh . . .” He places a finger to my lips. “You don’t want Cat to hear you, do you?”

I lick my lips. “Then don’t bang me against the door, Harry.”

His mouth curves up in a sexy smirk as he finally sets me back on my feet. His lips descend to mine, and I feel the same need pouring through me as before. “I need you. Now.”

I nod and he takes a step back. With trembling hands, I wrap my fingers around the hem of my shirt and pull it off. Then I reach for his. He lifts his arms for me as I pull it over his head. His eyes have a desperate look that startles me.

“I hope you can keep quiet, sweetheart, because I’m going to make you want to scream.” He makes quick work of my bra and shorts. “Hmm . . . such a beautiful, gorgeous creature you are, Jessica Owens,” he whispers, tugging at my hand and pulling my body into his. I go without hesitation. He walks us back toward my bed and sits at the edge. His hands grip my hips and pull into him as he kisses me across my stomach. A small moan escapes my mouth and he shushes me again.

“You’re not off to a great start, sweetheart,” he teases.

I want to say something witty, but all that I manage is, “Get naked, Harry.”

Instead of an amused chuckle or smartass comment, he stands up. He quickly steps out of his jeans and boxers briefs, watching me as I watch him undress.

I swallow thickly.

“I want to try something different.” He sinks back down on the bed, pulling me with him. “Straddle me, sweetheart.”

I do as I’m told, my knees feeling weak as they adjust on either side of him.

He gulps. “Now, ease down on me.”

“I-I’ve never—” I start, but seeing the animalistic look in his eyes does something funny to my insides, and I decide to trust him. So I grab on to his shoulders and slowly lower myself as he navigates himself inside me.

We both groan at the same time as I slide down further. “Easy, sweetheart. Nice and—”

I lean forward and attack his mouth, shutting him up and taking away his breath. For the next few moments, our ragged breathing is the only indication of our lovemaking.

His hands grab my hips, his fingers digging into me as I rock back and forth slowly. “Holy shit, Jess.” His breath is ragged and pained, like he’s trying to control himself, keep himself from going over the edge. “You feel so fucking good. So wet. So good.”

I giggle softly. “It’s okay. I’m yours.”

He growls and grasps my hips, thrusting upward, fast and hard. “
Fuck
.”

“Shhh,” I remind him. “Not so loud.”

“Fuck. You’re so tight.” His mouth descends downward, suckling and licking all the way to my breasts. He reaches for my right breast and squeezes it hard, and my head falls backward as I moan.

“You feel so fucking amazing,” he compliments, before his warm mouth wraps itself around my nipple. He sucks on it, hard.

“Harry.” I’m so lost that I can’t keep control of my own body, and I rock harder, faster against him.

His hand abandons my breast and ventures downward, slipping between us to masterfully work magic at my core. I whimper.

“I want to taste you so fucking bad,” he says, rolling us over abruptly. I squeal in surprise and he grins.

“Stay quiet, sweetheart,” he admonishes with a wicked grin, his head dipping lower as he scoots backward.

“You try being quiet, when—oh,” My hips buck up as his mouth does that crazy sucking thing at my hip while his fingers continue their assault on my core. “Oh, my God.”

His chuckle is low and erotic as leaves a trail of kisses, traveling down, down, down. “Oooooo . . .” I moan as he flicks his tongue against me and all thought shatters. Especially when his tongue’s doing that . . . holy mother of . . .  whatever he’s doing right now . . . flicking and . . .

He slides a finger into me . . .

And I nearly scream, but he covers my mouth with his hand and looks up with a wink. “Quiet, baby.”

I writhe and squirm as a beautiful pressure builds in the pit of my stomach. My hips buck up and he slowly slides the hand from my mouth all the way to my stomach, pressing me down, hindering me from moving much. I grab the sheets and bite down on my lip, trying my hardest not to make a noise. My vision blackens. “
Fffuck
,” I cry as an orgasm unlike any I’ve ever felt rips through me.

I collapse against the bed, my legs falling limply to the side as I come back down from Heaven. I feel Harrington crawling up my body, kissing me as he ascends.

“I’d say you enjoyed that,” he says, just as I open my eyes.

He leans forward, kissing me softly, and I taste myself on his lips. “You taste that, Jess? Sweet and delicious. I’ve never tasted anything so fucking good.”

Heat assaults my body, but I recover quickly. “You were pretty talented with that tongue.”

He pinches my nipple and my eyes roll back. “I’m good with other things too.” He thrusts his hips forward “And I want inside you.”

I lean up and kiss him, passionately. I wrap my legs around his hips and dig my heels into his butt. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He groans. “Thank fuck.” He sits back on his heels, breaking my leg lock. He runs his fingers over my sweet spot, once, and I shiver as my body instantly responds. Then, in a swift motion, he wraps his arms under my knees, pulling me up, and the next moment, he thrusts into me in one quick move. I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips.

“So fucking good.” He lets one knee go, using the hand to brace himself so that he hovers above me as he moves in and out, slow, then fast, then slow and hard. It’s amazing, and perfect, and before long, my body starts to coil again. I didn’t think it would have anything left after the last one, but as his mouth and hands and body work their magic, I feel myself steadily hiking back up that rainbow. It takes everything in me not to be loud, but as his fingers slip between our joined bodies again, I can’t hold back anymore.

“Oh god, Harry! I’m going to come,” I moan, squeezing his hips as I reach the apex, arching up into him, my toes curling as I cry out.

“I love you, Harrington Brad Lovelly.”

He grunts as he thrusts one last time and joins me in release. A satisfied, pained smile plays on my lips as he collapses on top of me. Every inch of me is hyper-sensitive, wrung out, and completely satisfied.

“Holy mother of hell, woman. I’m never letting you go.” He breathes into the curve of my neck, kissing me softly. “That . . . that was . . .” He pushes up on his hands and our gazes connect. He smiles weakly. “I fucking love you, Jess.”

Then he’s kissing me again, but softly this time, taking his time. He pulls back and looks at me, and I feel my heart flutter. It’s that intense kind of look he’s given me a time or two, the one I still don’t quite know how to interpret.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes head and tucks some stray strands of hair behind my ear. “I love you so much, Jessica Owens. You own my heart, my body, every breath. And I’d do anything to protect you. You know that, right?”

Before I answer him, I lift my face and touch my mouth to his. “I know. I believe you.”

“Good.” His smile is crooked, sweet, and very boy-next-door. Then suddenly, like something lit up in his head, his eyes widen. “Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t believe I did that.”

“What? What happened?” My heart rate spikes in concern.

“Condom. I totally forgot about a condom.”

I smile, relaxing again, and kiss him. “I’ve been on birth control since I was fifteen. Bad periods, and all.” I shrug a shoulder.

Relief floods his face as he leans forward to kiss me. “I’m clean,” he says. “I’ve never had sex without a condom before.” He kisses me again. “And I’m never wearing another condom again.”

I giggle like a freaking schoolgirl. He gives me that devilish grin that means trouble, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Ready for round 2?”

“Already?” I gasp.

“Sweetheart, I missed you for a week—”

“Three days,” I correct him. “It was only three days.”

“Three fucking long days.” He presses his mouth to mine. “I have a lot of sex to make up for.”

And he does. Until the wee hours of the morning. And I don’t even care that my big show is less than twenty-four hours away. Not when Harrington is next to me, inside me, making me fall more in love with him than ever.