Hunted (18 page)

“I want details,” Celida insisted. “Full disclosure, specific details. But not to the level of what you write in your books,” she added hastily. “This is Bauer we’re talking about. I’d never be able to look at him again without wanting to scrub my brain with bleach.”

Zoe laughed. “Got it. I’ll give you the G-rated version.”

“R-rated is fine. Nothing over that though. Just don’t say his name when you tell me.”

Clay and Tuck were watching her now, obviously wondering what news Celida had shared. “I gotta go fill the boys in, bébé. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Sure, hon. Be safe. And… God, I can’t believe I’m saying this about Bauer, but I would support your decision with any other guy you chose, so…enjoy.”

“Thanks. I will.” She hung up and walked back to the guys to fill them in on the dead end with the CCTVs.

Tuck stared at her for a long moment, hands on hips, that familiar expression on his face that told her he was weighing options. “Clay’s gonna take you back home, and then I want you to stay there. If this guy’s targeted you, then you need to lie low. Keep your alarm on. You’ve still got the nine-mill I bought you, right?”

“Yes.” God, he was making her more nervous by bringing that up. The thought of using that on someone to defend herself wasn’t one she relished.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him. “Either me or Bauer or both of us will stay with you tonight, and Bauer will stay tomorrow because I’ve got more meetings here. Speaking of which…” His gaze shifted to Clay. “The rest of us need to fill you in on a couple developments.”

Zoe knew it had to be about whatever security situation had just happened, and didn’t protest.

Clay nodded. “I’ll take her home then head back here.” He looked at her. “Ready?”

She wasn’t about to argue. “Yeah.” With Clay at her back she was as safe as she was going to get. Normally she loved solitude and her own company, but suddenly the thought of being left alone at her place filled her with dread.

Carlos exited the bathroom and bought another to-go cup of coffee on his way out of the café. His fifth of the day, and it wasn’t yet nine-thirty. The caffeine helped clear away the cobwebs clouding his brain, but it was making him even more twitchy. He needed another hit, either of coke or another upper, just to keep him going.

All his senses were heightened as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, his awareness of the time passing so acute he could almost hear a clock ticking in his head. His weapon dug into his lower back with each step, the feel of it reassuring. He had a full mag and two spares in his backpack, and he was fully prepared to use every round to clear a path to get to Zoe.

This was all Leticia’s fault. She’d pushed him into a corner and this was his only way out. When he got his hands on that bitch he’d make her regret ever walking out on him.

Sipping the steaming hot brew, he headed east until he reached Zoe’s street. He’d seen her leave almost forty-five minutes ago, with the guy he assumed she’d been with last night. Big fucker, and from the way he moved and kept checking their surroundings, Carlos knew he was trained. And not just any regular military or law enforcement training. The guy had an edge to him Carlos had recognized immediately.

Which meant he had a big fucking problem on his hands.

How was he going to get to her now? He’d considered breaking into her place while she was gone to wait there for her, but there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to disable the alarm system and he was pretty sure that guy would come back with her. He was prepared to take the man down to get to Zoe, though he’d have to capitalize on the element of surprise and a guy like that would be hard to catch unawares.

He slipped in behind a small crowd of people gathered to watch a brass band playing in the middle of the intersection, where he could keep watch for Zoe to return. He sipped at his coffee, not even tasting it, and jammed his other hand into the front pocket of his jeans. His right foot tapped an anxious beat along with the drummer, every note the band played scraping over his tautly stretched nerves like the jagged edge of a rusty knife.

Two days since he’d lost tabs on Leticia and he was already losing his mind. What if he didn’t find her? What if she managed to get out of the city and evade him forever?

The thought pushed his agitation to a whole new level. It was all he could do to stand still and wait while his heart pounded and panic swirled inside him so strong it made sweat break out over his body. Still no trace of her. Not even with all his resources and contacts, both in law enforcement and the criminal underworld.

How could she do this to him? There was no way she didn’t know how much he loved her, but she also knew he wouldn’t tolerate her up and walking out on him. He’d made that crystal clear when they’d first gotten together.

He smothered a yawn, mentally shook himself. Sleep deprivation was starting to take its toll, dulling his mind. He couldn’t afford that. To pull this off he had to be sharp, at the top of his game. He wanted Leticia back, wanted her tied to his bed until he took his fill of her and punished her for the fear and humiliation she’d caused him by running.

Zoe Renard was his only chance of finding her now. No more waiting. It had to be today, whether Zoe’s lover was with her or not. He couldn’t spend another day without Leticia. She’d be afraid of him at first, but the punishment she had coming was necessary.

He tuned out the people around him, mostly tourists wearing those stupid plastic Mardi Gras beads—even though it was the middle of September, many recording or snapping pictures of the band with their phones. The music faded away as he stared down the length of Zoe’s block and thought of Leticia, her perfect pale-brown skin.

A cab turned the corner at the far end of the block and parked alongside the curb. The back of his neck tingled as the rear doors opened and Zoe stepped out with her lover. Wearing wraparound shades, the guy looked around and reached back to take her hand. As they turned and walked across the street toward her building, Carlos could see a faint bulge beneath the back of the guy’s shirt at waist level. Definitely carrying. Clearly not an easy target, even if he managed to get a drop on him. Which he doubted he would.

A nervous buzzing began in the pit of his stomach. Could he really take the man down in order to get to Zoe? If it came down to it, he’d take him out and anyone else who stood in his way.

He pushed away from the brick wall he’d been leaning against, was halfway down the block without even realizing what he was doing when something stopped him. He blinked, came out of the fog he’d been in.

Fuck, he was losing it. Attacking now, in broad daylight when she had that kind of backup? Practically suicide. His instincts had never let him down yet, so he obeyed and stayed where he was, each second its own separate torment as he chose another hiding location in an alcove five doors down from Zoe’s place. His heart hammered and his breathing was erratic. He could feel his hands shaking.

Get a grip. You have to calm down. Think! This is your only chance to find Leticia. Don’t fuck it up.

He’d have to wait and hope the guy left. Fucking sucked, but that was his only option at the moment.

With his gaze pinned to the building entrance where Zoe and the man disappeared from view, he stayed put. If her lover left her alone, even for a minute, Carlos would attack.

****

They’d taken a cab back to her place to save time, and already Zoe regretted that her time alone with him was coming to an end. On the walk to the hotel she’d felt like they’d bonded a little. He’d opened up to her about things she’d never expected him to. That had to mean something, because she knew Clay didn’t open up to many people.

“Can I sneak into the bathroom before you grab your shower?” she asked him as she led the way up the creaky old stairs.

“Sure, yeah.” He slung the garment bag over one broad shoulder and moved to the living room.

She freshened up in the bathroom, splashing water on her face and spritzing on some perfume before walking out. Only to stop dead at the sight before her.

Gilded by the bright light streaming through the sliding glass doors leading onto the patio, Clay was on the floor of her living room, doing pushups. He was facing away from her, moving up and down in a steady rhythm, every muscle in his back flexing beneath that thin gray T-shirt.

Oh my gawd…

She must have made a sound because he whipped his head around and caught her staring. Well, okay, devouring him with her eyes, if she was being honest. “What are you doing?” she managed, making use of the two remaining brain cells that were still functioning.

“PT,” he answered, doing another pushup. “My physio has me on a strict routine of core exercises to keep everything in my lower back and stomach strong while I finish all my rehab.”

“God bless her,” Zoe murmured.

Clay stopped, slung his head around to look at her and let out a short laugh. She started at the sound, stared as the smile he gave her completely transformed his hard features. If she’d thought she was having trouble breathing while watching him do the pushups, that smile made it feel like all the oxygen had been suddenly sucked from the room.

Then it faded, replaced by growing sexual interest and he shifted as though he was going to get up.

“No, don’t stop.” She was suddenly inspired.

Walking toward him in her best prowl, she held his stare as she knelt at his head, then lay down on her back and shimmied underneath him. He watched her without moving. “I thought maybe I could help you finish up your exercises,” she whispered, reaching out to trail her forefinger down his scruffy cheek. “You know, be your spotter. Exercising’s more fun when you do it with a partner.”

His blue eyes heated, turning molten as he stayed braced over her, unmoving, all his weight propped up on his hands. Zoe took the opportunity to run her hands along his shoulders and down his chest, savoring the feel of all that steely strength. “Can we lose this?” she asked, plucking at the soft cotton.

“Yeah.” His voice was guttural. He got to his knees long enough to reach for the bottom of the shirt and peeled it up over his head, flinging it behind him.

Zoe had no idea where it landed and didn’t care—she was too spellbound by the sight of his naked torso and his sexy tribal tat to think straight. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about his body, especially after she’d seen him getting out of the hot tub that night at his and Tuck’s place. But as he reassumed his original position, all those muscles in his arms and chest bunching to hold his weight, she felt the hedonistic need to savor him bit by bit until she’d explored every inch of his body.

His eyes searched hers, a knowing gleam in them. “Ready? I got nine more to go in this set.”

She moistened her lips, dragging her gaze from the striated muscles in his chest and shoulders, up the column of his throat where the dark stubble covered his jaw, cheeks and upper lip. Her palms trailed ever so lightly over his back, awed by the heat of him, the feel of those muscles shifting beneath her touch. “I’m ready.” So ready she was wet and aching for him. No man had ever affected her like this.

Holding her gaze, he slowly bent his arms and lowered his weight until his chest brushed hers. Even through her bra and dress she felt that contact against her erect nipples and gasped, her hands tightening on his wide shoulders.

His hips settled between her splayed thighs, his erection pressing against her throbbing sex with a tantalizing pressure that sent a torrent of heat through her. She gasped, bit her lip and returned the pressure, lifting into him, but he merely smirked and pushed up on his hands once more, aware of exactly what he was doing to her.

“Nine,” he murmured, his low, intimate tone making her insides quiver.

It was sex, while fully clothed. Mind-blowingly hot.

He repeated the motion, just as slow, a demonstration of smooth, controlled power as he slowly drove her out of her mind with want. “Eight.”

Oh my god, she was never going to make it to the end of the set without either dying of heart failure or sexual frustration. The snug dress she’d thought was so sexy when she’d put it on this morning was now hampering her ability to wind her legs around his hips and get more friction where she needed it.

She wanted to feel him moving against her naked skin. Impatient, she ran her hands down his ribs to the waistband of his jeans and reached for the buckle of his belt.

He grabbed one of her hands in his, drew it upward and gently pressed the back of it against the floor beside her head in a silent command. Then he raised an eyebrow and dipped again, this time on one arm, the show of coordination and strength doing ridiculous things to her already revved libido. “Seven.”

As he bottomed out this time, Zoe grabbed the back of his neck with her free hand and locked her mouth with his. He kissed her back for a moment, then gave a low chuckle and lightly sucked at her lower lip before pushing back up to starting position. “Bad girl, trying to distract me like that. That’s six.”

“I want you naked.” Her voice was low and breathless and she saw the answering desire ignite in his eyes.

“Sure you could handle me naked, raven?”

Oh yeah. “I’d give it my best.”

His mouth curved up on one side in a crooked smile that made her heart flutter, and he released her wrist. Immediately she took his face in her hands and when he lowered his weight this time, he rubbed against her in a full body caress calculated to make her go cross-eyed before covering her lips with his. Slow, lingering pressure, a tender bit of suction that curled her toes.

Zoe moaned and twined her tongue with his, struggling to hook her feet around the backs of his thighs. Clay lowered himself even further, taking his weight on his elbows as he kissed her, slow and deep and thorough. His big hands slid into her hair as his mouth cruised over her chin, down her throat, giving little flicks of his tongue that set her nerve endings on fire.