Kincaid: Cerberus Mc Book 1 (18 page)

I don’t pull my eyes from her as she wraps her lips around the bottle opening. Watching her close her eyes and tilt the plastic container back is amazingly erotic. The way her throat works to swallow the cool liquid has me squirming beside her.

I force myself to pull my eyes away from her and look out over the landscape.

“We need to get you a decent camera for our next excursion,” I say as she hands me the now nearly empty bottle.

She raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re so sure you’ll get a second date.”

I wink at her. “A man can hope.”

She leans into me and rests her head against my shoulder. Not one to miss an opportunity to touch her, I adjust my position and wrap an arm around her shoulder.

We sit and watch the sky begin to change colors in silence. “We have to get going soon. I don’t want to be stuck out here after dark.”

“Afraid of the dark?” she teases but stands up and stretches.

“I’d rather not have to fight off the coyotes and snakes that will be making an appearance soon.”

She cringes. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get the hell out of here!”

***

Thirty minutes later we’re pulling into a small roadside café for dinner. I can tell she’s grown more comfortable on the back of my bike in just the short time she’s been on it today. I’m becoming aware that, with the exception of the girls at the club, Emmalyn is pretty adaptable to her environment. The thought is both comforting and concerning. She can adjust easily to anything I throw at her, but it also means that’s she’d adapt pretty quickly if she had to move on without me.

I hold her hand as we walk into the small country restaurant, and she doesn’t pull away, rather; she steps in closer to my side. Once inside, I sit across from her in the booth so we can carry on a conversation when I really just want to sit beside her so I can feel the warmth of her body against mine.

I hand her one of the menus propped up on the table between the heavy salt and pepper shaker. “They have the best turkey clubs here.”

The waitress steps up to the table almost immediately, and I almost ask her to give us a few minutes because Em hasn’t had time to look over the menu, but she surprises me when she orders the turkey club with a side of honey mustard.

I smile at her. “Same,” I tell the waitress when she turns her attention to me.

I take the menu from her hand and stand it back up where I pulled it from. I reach my hand across the table, and Emmalyn immediately places hers in mine. I watch her as she watches our tangled fingers. “Thank you,” I say.

“For what?” she asks softly.

“Agreeing to come with me tonight.”

“I’ve had a great time,” she says almost shyly. “I’m glad you asked me out.”

“There’s no other place I’d rather be, Em.” I lean in and bring her fingers to my mouth, kissing the tips.

The ringing of my phone forces me to pull eyes from hers. I keep our fingers twined and reach into my pocket to retrieve the offending electronic with my free hand. The name on the screen, once again, has me cussing.

“Blade.”

He chuckles at my sharp tone. “Yeah, Shadow told me you were busy. When do I get to meet the infamous Emmalyn?”

“At your funeral if you keep interrupting my plans.”

Emmalyn pulls her hand from mine as the waitress sets our plate on the table between us. I should probably get up and take this call in private, but I just can’t seem to pull myself away from her.

“Don’t worry, this is nothing like the last one.” I can hear Blade typing on his computer.

“This one is a huge payday.” I sigh. The higher the payday either means incredibly dangerous or a mission that’s going to pull us from home for an extended period of time.

“I don’t like where this is heading. Just tell me how long I have.”

“Twenty-four hours. Plane leaves at midnight tomorrow.” He’s aware enough to deliver the news with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

“Damn it, Blade.” Emmalyn snaps her eyes up to me at the harsh tone of my voice.

“Keep in mind I’m just the messenger, Kincaid.”

“What does our timeline look like?” I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.

“It’s a security contract on a popular star who isn’t interested in being protected.”

Translation means I’ll be spending the next two or three weeks checking caves in the fucking desert looking for some terrorist cell leader who’s gone underground because he knows a tactical team is being activated to kill his ass.

“Thanks,” I mumble and hang up as he begins laughing.

I slide my phone back in my pocket, never taking my eyes off of Emmalyn as she moves chips around her plate without bothering to eat any of them.

“You have to leave again.” It’s not a question; she could tell by the limited conversation the gist of the situation. I nod and take her hand again.

“I need you to stay at the clubhouse while I’m gone.”

“It’s so lonely there with you gone,” she whispers.

I hate that she’s lonely, and I wonder if leaving her alone all the time is best. I know it’s not what either one of us needs, but I have to work, and there’s no other alternative right now.

“Stay with me tonight?” She raises her eyes to mine. The sadness in them makes me want to call Blade back and tell him to pass the job to another team, but at the same time, I know after we get this job over with we’ll be in a better position to turn the next one down.

“Please? I want to hold you.”

“Okay,” she says with a weak smile.

I spend the next thirty minutes trying to raise her spirits, talking about anything and everything other than the fact that in twenty-four hours I’ll be leaving her again.

I’m very good at my job. My team is one of the best-trained group of men in the country, hence the reason we get called out so often. Even knowing that, I’m also well aware just how dangerous each one of these missions are. One slip, one piece of the puzzle we didn’t account for, could easily mean one of us doesn’t make it home.

I don’t want her to worry. I know eventually I’ll have to share more of what I do with her, but it’s the last thing I want to think about right now. Her knowing how dangerous our missions are, is not something I want in her head when I have to kiss her goodbye tomorrow, not knowing if I’ll see her amazing blue eyes ever again.

The ride to the clubhouse is a somber one for me. I’m excited with wonder about what may happen this evening, but it is overshadowed by the fact that by this time tomorrow Diego will be gone again. A sense of unease washes over me as we pull into the very crowded parking lot. There are more cars and motorcycles here than I’ve ever seen before.

I can’t help but wonder if this is what it is normally like, but things were dialed down while I was here. I remain on the bike and look toward the door where a small group of people has congregated to smoke.

“Itchy’s birthday party,” Diego explains over his shoulder as he pulls his helmet off.

I nod my understanding and climb off the bike, knowing I can’t sit on it all night. I take a deep breath and remove my helmet, handing it over to Diego.

“We can join the party, have a drink, or we can head to a quieter spot inside.” He takes my hand and guides me up the stairs and through the front door.

I was not prepared for the scene before my eyes when I crossed over into the dimly lit clubhouse. Throngs of people, mostly scantily clad or half naked women were everywhere. Dozens of bikers mingling, drinking, and various stages of sexual activity fill the large front room.

I swallow roughly and cut my eyes to Diego, certain he’s taking in his fair share of the show in front of him. I find him looking at me instead, gauging my reaction to the chaos.

“Maybe I should take my clothes off,” I say sarcastically to him.

I see his lip twitch in a partial smile at the bitterness I clearly didn’t hide in my voice. “Not exactly how I’d planned on spending my evening, and I actually like a few of the guys here; I’d hate to hurt them.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’d have to whip every man’s ass in here that looked at you.” He steps in closer to me and wraps his arms around my waist, leaning down close to my ear. “If you want to take your clothes off, you should do it in my room. It would save me a lot of grief.”

My eyes widen when a topless woman walks past us. Diego doesn’t seem to notice her, and I realize he’s so used to this that naked women don’t even faze him. For some reason I feel territorial and want to get him away from the several women I saw begin to preen immediately the second he walked into the room. The knowledge that all he had to do was snap his fingers and they would line up to service him sits like a vile poison in my gut.

“Come on,” Diego says and tugs my hand toward the back hallway. The sounds of the party grow lighter the further we make our way toward his room. “One of the visiting Presidents will be in the room you were using. You can stay in mine. I’ll sleep on the chair if you want, but I’m hoping you’ll want to sleep in my arms.”

I don’t say a word as he opens his door, but secretly I’m thrilled at the idea of him holding me all night. I stop at the sight of the bed, picturing Bunny on it and suddenly not wanting to get anywhere near it.

“I haven’t been in here since that day, but I did change the bedding before I left.”

I look up at him in confusion.

“I’ve been at my house, Emmalyn. There was no point in being here if you weren’t next door.” He closes us into the room and flips the lock on the door. Only the faint beat of the music can be heard through the walls, and oddly I feel safe enclosed in here with him.

I stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, unsure of what to do next. I presume he has an expectation of sex this evening. Part of me wants that, and part of me is unsure if I can emotionally handle it since he’ll be leaving again tomorrow.

Sensing my unease, he steps close to me and raises my chin up with his finger. “How about you shower first?” He places a t-shirt in my hand. “Then I’ll shower.”

I take the proffered shirt and slide past him into the bathroom. I know he won’t come in here, but I lock the door behind me anyway. Piling my hair high on my head to keep it from getting wet, I pull the hair tie I always carry with me from my jeans pocket and secure it.

I strip out of my clothes and make quick work of getting clean in his shower, loving the fact that my skin now smells like his from the bar of soap in the shower. I towel dry and pull his t-shirt over my head. It hits me at the knees, but I still feel completely naked without any panties on. I squeeze my thighs together at the delicious thrill of sleeping in a bed with Diego wearing only an article of his clothing.

Opening the bathroom door, I scurry past him and climb into his bed. He chuckles and walks into the bathroom leaving it open with a gap. I turn over in the bed when I see his reflection in the mirror as he begins to strip out of his clothes. He could have easily closed the door behind him, but I give him his privacy regardless.

Less than ten minutes later I feel the bed dip behind me, and my body begins to tremble immediately. Anticipation, along with a wave of mild trepidation causes the slight quiver of all the major muscle groups in my body.

“Are you cold?” Diego asks as he settles in behind my back.

“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?” he asks. “There’s no need to be nervous, Emmalyn.”

Easy for him to say. I’m sure he has women in his bed all the time. I haven’t had sex in months, and other than losing my virginity to some bumbling boy my junior year in high school, Bobby is the only other man I’ve ever been with sexually.

“I’m not sure about… I don’t know what you want, Diego.” My voice is a whisper, but he’s so close to me, every inch of his front lined up with every inch of my back, I know he can hear me.

“This,” he says holding me slightly tighter. “This is what I want, Em.”

I release a light, contented smile, growing even fonder of him for not pressuring me to move faster than I’m comfortable with. I lay quietly in his arms with my eyes closed, reveling in the protective feel of his warmth, but I realize almost immediately that although I’m content where I am, I’m far from tired.

I shift my body and roll over so I can see him fully. He has one arm bent under his head, and he keeps his other one casually tossed over my waist. We spend several long minutes just taking each other in. I do my best not to focus on his mouth too long and let my eyes wander down his chest, noticing for the first time the small barbells piercing each of his nipples. I reach out and touch one delicately with the tip of my finger.

“I like these,” I admit, gaining a smile from him. His breathing pattern changes when I circle the brown disk of flesh. “You’re so tanned,” I say trailing my finger down his abdomen, smiling wider as the muscles jump and bunch at the attention.

“My mother was Puerto Rican. I have a pretty great tan year round.” His voice is husky, and the gruffness of it settles low in my own body.

I allow my fingers to travel lower, but his hand stops me before I reach the elastic band of his boxer briefs. “Emmalyn,” he chastises, but he eases the sting a bit by bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing the tips of my fingers.