Kill Shot (12 page)

“Enough,” he said as they struggled against
each other.

“Nothing you can say or do will ever be
enough. As far as I’m concerned, you’re as dead to me as she
is.”

“Damn you, then. Damn us both.”

All he wanted was for the pain to go away.
At least for a little while.

Gabe pressed her back against the sidewall
of the plane, his body hard and hungry for hers. Her eyes went
wide, but she didn’t push him away. Their racing breaths mingled,
and his heart pounded desperately in his chest as his mouth crashed
down on hers.

It wasn’t a kiss filled with tenderness or
affection. It was a kiss full of pain and longing—a desperate
attempt to fill the aching emptiness that consumed them both and to
claim what had once been his.

Grace bit his lip, and the metallic taste of
blood filled his mouth. She ran her hands under his shirt and
across the hard planes of muscle, and he gripped her hips and
pressed her against his straining cock, grinding against her sweet
spot until she whimpered into his mouth. They’d both be sore
tomorrow.

Their breathing was harsh, and Gabe lifted
her shirt over her head, ripping it in his haste. He inhaled the
muskiness of her scent. Her arousal was potent—the sweetest
aphrodisiac, calling to his animal nature. He trailed his lips down
her neck and laved his tongue across the groove of her collarbone.
He flicked open the front clasp of her bra with two fingers, and
her breasts spilled free. They were small, but they filled his
hands completely and swelled under his attention.

She pulled off his shirt and raked her nails
across his chest and abdomen, and he shuddered at her touch. Her
hands trembled in excitement as she worked at the buttons of his
pants and found him large and heavy in her palm.

“Mmmm,” she purred as she stroked him,
spreading the liquid that seeped from the tip of his cock over his
plump head.

Gabe turned his attention to the pert
nipples that stood up and begged for his attention. She’d always
been sensitive there. He bit down gently, and she went crazy with
desire, her hips arching and her moans turning into demands.

“Inside me,” she panted.

He watched her from under his lashes,
continuing his assault on her nipples with his teeth and then
soothing the sting immediately with the flat of his tongue. Her
face was flushed with desire, and her hand continued to stroke him
to the point that he hand to concentrate not to come. He wanted to
be deep inside of her when he orgasmed.

“Fuck me, Gabe. I can’t wait any
longer.”

Grace kicked off her boots, and he tugged at
her pants. She lifted up so he could strip them down her legs, and
he tossed them to the floor. Her fingers were relentless as they
worked him back and forth, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer
if she kept it up. He bound her wrists with one hand and kept them
imprisoned above her head, and he plunged his fingers into the wet
heat of her pussy. She immediately tightened around him, spasming
as she came with a gush of liquid cream into his hand.

“Christ.”

“Let my hands go. I need to touch you.”

He did as she asked, and her nails trailed
down his chest and stomach until she held him in her hands.

“Now, now,” she chanted as she guided his
cock inside her.

Gabe closed his eyes as he pushed into her.
She was tight, and the spasms from her last orgasm pulled him
deeper inside. He gritted his teeth at the agony of prolonging the
inevitable, but he wanted to give her more before he found his own
fulfillment. He grasped her hips and hitched her higher so the
angle would allow him to hit the spot that always made her scream.
He ignored the scrape of her fingernails down his back and took her
mouth in a savage kiss as he felt the last dregs of his control
fade away.

He slammed into her to the hilt and
swallowed her cries of pleasure, thrusting again and again even as
she tightened around him once more. Heat gathered at the base of
his spine, and his balls tightened against his body. He felt her
contract against him with a new wave of liquid heat, squeezing his
cock to the point where pleasure almost turned into pain. She
screamed her release into his mouth, and he swallowed every sound
before thrusting into her one last time and filling her with his
come.

Their breaths came in rapid pants, and they
sagged against each other in exhaustion—two warriors at the losing
end of a fight.

They’d both found fulfillment, but neither
of them had found satisfaction.

London

The bartender’s name was Lucinda. Or maybe
it was Lorraine. Jack couldn’t quite remember which, but she’d been
a welcome distraction for the last couple of nights. She’d also
been creative as hell in bed, which he appreciated in a woman.

It was close to 4 a.m., and his cock was
already beginning to stir again. The woman was insatiable.

“Yeah, sugar. You get on top this time.
You’ve worn me out.”

She laughed, low and husky, and his blood
ran a little faster. She straddled his hips and he was just about
to get his own little piece of heaven on Earth when his phone
buzzed on the nightstand beside him.

“Shit,” Jack said.

“Just ignore it, baby.” She pushed down on
him so just the tip of his cock was inside, and he groaned in
frustration.

“I can’t, sugar. But give me a few minutes
and we’ll start right back where we left off.”

She huffed out a sigh and shoved herself off
him, grabbing her robe as she stalked out of the room and slammed
the door behind her.

“This better be good,” Jack said as he
answered the phone.

“Better than good,” Logan said. “I found out
some very interesting things while visiting Mexico. Things that I
can’t share over an open phone line.”

“Any trouble?”

“No more than usual, though I ran into a
couple of goons who didn’t care for my questions.”

“You always did have trouble keeping your
mouth shut. How soon can you get back to London?”

“I’m about to fly out of Mexico City. I’ll
be there by midafternoon.”

“See you then.” Jack disconnected and went
to search out Leanne. He’d never met a woman he couldn’t talk out
of her mad, and he was in the mood to finish what they’d
started.

***

Gabe felt like he’d been run over by a
truck. He and Grace were standing upright against the wall, their
bodies still joined and the sweat cooling on their skin. She
shivered as chill bumps covered her skin.

“You’re cold.” He didn’t recognize the sound
of his voice. It was raspy—lethargic—and then he cursed himself for
speaking at all as she stiffened in his arms.

He pulled out of her slowly and watched her
face as their bodies separated. She closed her eyes and covered her
breasts with her arms. Gabe fell back into the chair, his legs weak
and his mind muddled. An apology was on the tip of his tongue just
as his phone chimed a series of beeps.

“I have to get that. It’s Ethan.”

Grace passed him his phone and said, “I’m
going to take a shower and get some sleep.” Her voice was steady,
but he could feel the emotion vibrating just under the surface.

He let the phone continue to beep as he
watched her. “Grace, I…”

“Don’t apologize, Gabe. We both know we
would have ended up here eventually.”

“We still have things unsettled between
us.”

“Answer the phone, Gabe. You’ve always been
able to have my body. I accept that. But my mind is my own. Nothing
will ever be settled between us.” She walked out of the
room—gloriously naked—the impression of his fingers already showing
up on her skin as pale blue bruises.

“What?” Gabe growled into the phone.

“Is this a bad time?” Ethan asked.

“No more than usual. What’s going on?”

“Standridge is in Boston. I figured you’d
like to take an impromptu trip to pay him a little visit.”

“Yeah, we’ll take care of it.” Gabe rubbed
his eyes with his thumb and first finger and thought of sleep.

“I’ll send his address and a map to your
phone.”

“Thanks. Has Logan checked in with you
guys?”

“Not with me, but he might have called
Jack.”

Gabe raised his brows at the way Ethan said
Jack’s name. “Is there a problem with Jack?”

“Everything’s great. He’s screwing himself
across London last I checked.”

Gabe laughed at Ethan’s obvious
disgruntlement. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just the way
he is. You’ll get used to him.”

“Yeah, like a hole in the head. Let me know
what happens with Standridge. Are you going to try and bring him
back with you?”

“We’ll play it by ear.”

“How’s the mercenary? Has she had any more
lucrative offers while you’ve been gone?”

“Lay off, Ethan. She’s doing what she’s
supposed to.” He knew he sounded harsher than he should have, and
Ethan was a smart enough guy to pick up on it. The silence on the
other end of the line told him Ethan understood he’d gone too
far.

“I apologize, sir.” Gabe rolled his eyes at
the formal title and the sullen attitude. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m
expected online for a
Call of Duty
tournament. Unless you
have more orders for me. Sir.”

The line went dead, and Gabe was left alone
with his thoughts.

“Shit.” Alone with his thoughts was the last
place he wanted to be. He put his clothes back on and went to talk
to the pilot. It looked like they were headed to Boston.

***

Jack whistled tunelessly as he made his way
through the dark streets of Westminster. His body was relaxed and
his muscles thoroughly stretched. That woman could fuck like a
thoroughbred and had the stamina to match. But it was time to cut
her loose. In his mind, after a couple of nights together, a woman
started to think in terms of relationships. And he didn’t do
relationships. At least not anymore. He’d learned his lesson. And
he’d be damned if he repeated his mistakes.

Unlike Gabe and Grace. He shook his head as
he thought of his friends. They were both just begging for more
heartache, and by the looks of Grace, he didn’t think she could
take too much more. Jack had told Gabe they were being too obvious
about their involvement, and damned if Ethan hadn’t already picked
up on it. It would be best for everyone if Gabe and Grace could put
their problems on hold until after the mission was over, but Jack
knew them too well. He just hoped they were both still standing
once the dust cleared.

He breathed in the night air. His thoughts
were clear and his eyes alert. Sex didn’t muddle his brain—it made
everything come into sharp focus. So he noticed immediately when he
picked up the two tails. They weren’t trying to be subtle. They
were big bruisers, but he’d faced down bigger.

He kept his pace steady, and his eyes saw
everything. He was only a couple of blocks from headquarters, and
he had to assume the Worthington Financial cover had been
compromised.

One of the men split off, and Jack assumed
he was going to try to loop around and take him from the front.
Jack kept his hands loose at his sides and almost welcomed the
fight. It had been a long time since he’d gotten into a good brawl.
His fists ached for the contact.

He turned off the main street into a narrow
alleyway. The smell of rotten garbage was overwhelming, and rats
scurried from dumpster to dumpster, looking for food. Jack leaned
back against a brick wall and waited patiently.

The two men didn’t disappoint him. They
blocked his escape, one on each end of the alley, and moved toward
him. They were scruffy and sported black leather jackets. The one
on his left was just shy of six feet, but was thickly muscled. He
had a tattoo that snaked up his neck and scrolled around his eye.
The other guy was taller and leaner. He had dirty-blond hair tied
back in a tail and carried a crowbar like he knew how to use
it.

“What can I do for you boys?” Jack asked
with a lazy smile. He made sure his posture was relaxed but kept
his feet spread for balance. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure
of meeting before.”

“We’re going to ask you a couple of
questions, mate,” Tattoo said. “If we don’t like the answers, then
you’re going to suffer.” Brass knuckles gleamed in the streetlight,
and he flexed his meaty fingers. His accent was thick enough that
some of his words were unintelligible, but Jack got the gist.

“Well, you’re certainly welcome to ask. When
you’re done, I’d like to ask you guys some questions too.”

The guy with the ponytail came up on him
fast. The crowbar grazed his ribs just before Jack grabbed the
guy’s wrist and squeezed. He felt the bone give beneath his
fingers, and the guy sucked in a silent scream. The crowbar fell to
the ground with a clatter.

Tattoo rushed him from the opposite side,
and a fist in the gut with those brass knuckles stole Jack’s
breath. The flash of silver had him dodging on instinct, and a
wicked blade cut into the flesh of his arm instead of burying
itself straight into his heart.

“This was my favorite shirt, asshole.” He
gave two short jabs to the guy who’d stabbed him, bringing him to
his knees. Jack snapped his neck with a quick twist of his hands
and watched the guy slump into the garbage where he belonged.

Jack put his foot on the neck of the other
guy and grabbed his broken wrist. His eyes were pain filled, and
his breath came in shallow pants. “Now, I’m going to ask you a
couple of questions, mate, and you’re going to answer me. Do we
understand each other?”

The guy nodded, and his eyes glazed over as
Jack squeezed his wrist. “Yeah, man. But I swear I don’t know
anything.”

“Wrong answer.” Jack squeezed a little
harder, and the man squealed. “Who hired you?”