Traitor Games Page 14

  “Not too much.” She pulled on his hair.

  He slid another finger into her and she yanked his face up. Her scowl was as fierce as he’d ever seen her. He pumped slowly and bit by bit her features relaxed, her lips parted. Damn, that was a beautiful sight.

  Noah leaned in and kissed her while easing his fingers out of her. She clutched him closer, her tongue slipping between his lips, her nails digging into his skin.

  “Condom?” she whispered.

  Fuck…

  He hoped there was at least one in his bag.

  “Hold that thought.” He let go of her and pushed to his feet, tucking his erection in his jeans for the moment.

  Noah yanked the zipper down on the smaller bag. It contained more toiletries, trivial things, and was his best bet for a condom. The latex was a multipurpose tool in his line of work, but right now he needed it for its intended purpose.

  A strip of packets was shoved down in one of the pockets of his toiletry bag.

  He ripped one off and kissed it.

  Noah pushed to his feet and faced Lillian.

  She sat in the chair, right where he’d left her. Her knees were closed, ankles crossed in a demure pose, but the way she stared at him was full of sinful intentions.

  He shoved his pants down and kicked off his boots. He strode across the room in nothing but his boxers. She leaned forward and grabbed the waistband.

  There was something damn hot about a woman with no hesitation about what she wanted. Maybe this was a mistake, but right now he didn’t care.

  “I’d ask if you’re sure, but—”

  “Don’t.” She shoved his underwear to the ground.

  He grinned and ripped the condom open. She grabbed the latex disc with one hand and his cock with the other. He watched her roll it on, fascinated with the way she touched him, how intent she was on the task.

  She got up and turned around, perching one knee on the seat and staring over her shoulder at him.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered.

  She didn’t just want, she demanded. She knew what she wanted and how.

  He didn’t stand a chance against her. From the moment he’d agreed there shouldn’t be a wall between them, they were locked on this path.

  Noah braced his hand on the back of the chair and bent, pressing a kiss to her spine. Her breath warmed the skin of his forearm.

  “Get on with it.” Lillian’s voice was laced with frustration.

  She really was impatient.

  He chuckled and bent over her, wrapping her hair around his free hand. He bent her head until he could kiss her lips. She rocked back against him, his dick trapped between her firm ass and himself. He pressed his hips against her, using his greater weight to shift her so she lay bent over the back of the chair, almost onto the windowsill.

  Noah broke the kiss and let go of her hair. The air seemed to buzz. He grasped his cock and guided it through her slick folds. She tilted her hips and he slid into her. Noah closed his eyes and focused on the hot, wet sensation of her body hugging his. He grasped her hip and thrust, sinking into her.

  “Fuck,” he groaned.

  Lillian pushed back against him, driving him deeper until it seemed as though they’d always been joined. Her internal muscles squeezed him tighter, drawing him in as far as he could go. He rocked against her, savoring these first few moments.

  There was only one first time.

  Noah leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

  She twisted around until he could kiss her parted lips. She groaned into his mouth, the sound sweet to his ears. That was the moment he thrust, rocking her forward. She moaned and braced her hands on the window, her spine arching, her ass nestled against him.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  He thrust, rocking her forward against the chair. At first she moved with him, but he had better leverage and more strength. After a few moments, all she did was hold on while he stroked in and out of her body to the tune of her moans of pleasure.

  There was no way this could be a onetime thing. It should, but he knew it wasn’t going to be that way. The way their bodies fit, how good it felt, he’d want this again.

  Lillian laid her head against her hands, eyes closed. Her face was lined with pleasure because of him. And not because she knew a prefabricated version of himself. No, she knew some of his darker truths and she’d still wanted him.

  Warmth spread across his lower back.

  His orgasm was close.

  He couldn’t come yet. Not until she had.

  Noah let go of her hair and bent over her until he could brace his left hand on the chair. He flattened his right palm against her stomach and slid it down to her mound. Her skin was damp and he felt her muscles quivering.

  Was she close? He hoped so.

  He stroked her folds as he thrust, paying attention to the way her breathing hitched and the pitch of her moans. He drew her arousal back over the nub of her clit and circled it with his fingers.

  “Oh—oh, God. N-Noah…”

  Her whole body seemed to vibrate. He felt her muscles constrict in her abdomen and her foot kicked up. Inside, her pussy tightened around him.

  “F-fuck,” he whispered as her orgasm spurred his.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, rocking into her as his world order broke apart and reknit itself around her. His legs were jelly. He pivoted, taking Lillian with him until they sat in the chair, bodies still pressed together. He held her close, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he caught his breath.

  What the fuck had they just done? Did he really want an answer?

  They sat there, neither speaking.

  Lillian mattered to him. How and why he didn’t quite know, but she did. He stared down at her lashes casting a dark crescent against her cheek and realized that the decision to save her life was deeper than just a whim. There was something there.

  “Don’t go to sleep yet.” He stroked her hair.

  “Don’t want to move,” she whispered.

  He chuckled. How could she be dead sexy and cute all at once?

  “If you’re going to sleep, at least get in bed. Come on.” He’d have to function for both of them.

  Noah slid out from behind her and got to his feet. She curled up into a tight ball, stubbornly refusing to budge.

  “Come on.” He chuckled and grabbed her hand. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?”

  “No.” She stood, grumbling about it under her breath, her eyes still mostly closed.

  He nudged her toward the bathroom, collecting her clothes as they went. The room to his knowledge were the only ones with an en suite on this floor.

  He dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, then let himself out into the dark hall. The party was over, everyone asleep, and tomorrow the real work would begin.

  He’d thought this was just letting off a little steam. When she’d come to him, kissed him, he hadn’t realized the depth of this thing that bound him to her.

  Shit.

  What the hell had he just done?

  Noah paced down to the darkened bathroom and shut himself inside. He knew she wouldn’t be long, but he had to think. It was one thing to want her and an entirely other matter to act on it.

  This was potentially a big problem down the road. He should have kept to the other side of the room, pushed her away, said no—anything but get more involved with Lillian than he already was.

  He cleaned up, all the while his mind circling the problem at hand. He’d always had issues denying himself what he wanted, but as a rule he stayed away from women. But he and Lillian were joined at the hip. He couldn’t put distance between them if he wanted to. How was he going to protect her if he was emotionally compromised?

  He braced his hands on the counter and stared at his reflection.

  She deserved a better life with someone who would put her first. Noah didn’t know how to be that person. He wasn’t any good for her, but here they were.

  Chapter Eleven

 
; Thursday. Heathrow Airport, London, United Kingdom.

  Hector took his time sliding his passport back into his pocket and checking his belongings. Demetrius finished with customs and proceeded toward him, but slowed a few feet away.

  “That way.” Hector nodded to the left.

  Demetrius glanced down the corridor, then at Hector.

  There was no way in hell he was turning his back on this man.

  Demetrius ambled in the direction of the man with the red coat sitting on the first bench by the doors leading out to the tube.

  Hector hated watching his back. The time he spent making sure Demetrius didn’t kill him could be better used ensuring they found Lillian and Noah. Hector still didn’t know how he was going to explain this absence to the office, but he’d figure it out. Right now they had to find the trail before it went cold.

  The team at Heathrow should have easily taken both Noah and Lillian. Hector should be here merely to verify their identities, not trying to figure out where to start an international manhunt.

  The man in the red coat stood and turned.

  They continued this slow-paced leading act out into a short-term parking structure. A surveillance van waited for them on the third floor with the team who’d allowed Lillian and Noah to slip through their fingers.

  Their guide in the red coat opened the doors and held them while Hector then Demetrius climbed inside. A man sat behind the wheel and a woman manned the console with several video feeds paused, ready for playback.

  “What have you got?” Hector asked.

  The woman didn’t miss a beat. “The CCTV was put on a loop, so we have no airport video. We do have surveillance from the bank cams and the tube platforms, which give us an idea of where they went and with whom.” The woman gestured to a center monitor. “The targets arrived a little after nine, but not together. The man came through first. We lost him in a crowd, but later we found him and this man on the tube platform. The woman was by herself until here. You can see this figure come out of the frame and pull her onto the platform. We never get a look at her face.”

  There was a line of blond hair along the back of the second figure’s cap.

  He’d be willing to bet money he knew who that person was.

  Their boss was going to rage when he heard they’d allowed Carol Sark to escape. That one woman had done a lot of damage with her algorithm, unearthing SICA’s agenda within the CIA and exposing it. She was the root cause of everything.

  “They passed into this hall, then nothing. We’re blind in terms of video, but our people followed them to an employee staircase that led down to a subterranean employee garage. They had a van waiting. We have one good shot of it, here.” She gestured to a still of a white van taking a tight turn.

  “We’re working on the van, who it belongs to, where it’ll pop up. That’ll give us a lead,” the man in the driver’s seat said.

  “No, it won’t.” Hector grimaced. “They’ll have swapped the plates somewhere without cameras, maybe dressed the van up so it’s not as obvious. More than likely they changed cars at least once. You’ll never find it, or if you do, it’ll take too long to be of any use.”

  “What’s our next move then?” the woman asked.

  “Did you get a look at any of these people? Anything you could use to run a facial recognition on?” Hector gestured at the two bodies in the frame still frozen on the garage. Their people had exchanged fire with armed men and killed two unknown suspects.

  “They haven’t found anything up in the CIA database,” the woman said.

  “Send me their pictures. I’ll handle this.”

  She tapped a few buttons on a tablet. “There. You should have it.”

  “We’ll be in touch.” Hector pushed to his feet, the hours of travel wearing on him, and opened the back door.

  The garage was quiet this time of night, just about empty.

  Demetrius exited behind him and shut the doors.

  “You want me to take care of them?” he asked.

  “No. We’re going to need even the incompetent ones. Come on.”

  “Where to now?”

  “You aren’t being paid to ask questions.”

  Hector crossed to a black Land Rover. The keys were in a box under the fender. He unlocked the vehicle and climbed behind the wheel. Driving on the wrong side of the road was going to fuck with his head.

  In a matter of moments they were on the road, headed away from the airport. It was slow going, even this time of night.

  His phone rang and the skin on the back of his neck prickled.

  Hector knew who it was without looking, but he did anyway.

  “Answer that.” He shoved the phone at Demetrius.

  “What’s up?” Demetrius held the phone between them, the speaker function activated.

  “Well?” Shadow Man asked.

  “They were here. Looks like Carol was, too. A team got them out clean, but we killed two of theirs. I’ve got photographs to run through our non-American agencies, see if we can get a lead that way.”

  “Send them. Get somewhere and lie low for a few hours. The Paris op is about to begin.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The call ended without further instruction.

  “Paris op?” Demetrius asked.

  Hector ignored the question.

  Things were in motion, big things. He just hoped they were on the right side of it all.

  …

  Friday. Security Summit Safe House, United Kingdom.

  Lillian stared at the pages she’d removed from the binder for the morning session. She’d come downstairs ready to tackle the intel meeting and slammed into an unexpected disaster.

  “What exactly happened?” Director Donovan of the CIA leaned back in his chair.

  “Last night, around ten, a covert French DGIE office in Paris was attacked. They have an eyewitness who claims it was the blond American man. The president’s son?” The head of MI5 delivered the information without inflection. Data. Facts.

  “I thought Mitch Fowler was supposed to be our ally?” Jan Schulz, the German diplomat to the US and personal friend of Carol, paced the room. He was the German representative in this matter for now. He stared at Lillian.

  Lillian pressed her fingertips to the surface of the writing table to ground herself. “This wasn’t Mitch.”

  “How are we supposed to trust you?” Jan asked.

  Lillian and Noah knew Jan was the one who’d brought the international players together. He’d been the one to tell Carol other agencies were talking. They knew the CIA had problems, and as allies they wanted to fix this. His agitated behavior this morning was a surprise. Lillian had hoped Jan would be their ally in all this.

  The leather-wearing mercenary sat forward.

  “Why are you the one doing the talking and not him?” Brandon nodded at Donovan. Brandon ran Medusa, one of the most efficient private security companies in the world. He was an ally they’d need what with his global resources. He wasn’t her biggest fan, that was sure.

  “No offense, miss, but you’re too young and inexperienced for a job like this.” Jan pivoted to face down Donovan.

  Lillian stared at the back of Jan’s head. “Actually, if you’d—”

  “Donovan, I want to hear from you,” Jan said.

  “I’m not the one in charge of this. She is.” Donovan nodded at Lillian. He was as cool and collected as ever.

  “Who is she?” Jan examined her, from head to toe, as if she were a thing. A tool. Not a human at all.

  “I’m Lillian Matthews—”

  “And what the fuck does that matter?” Brandon asked.

  She grit her teeth. This was going to be a long day, and so help her God she’d knock their heads together if she had to.

  “I want answers,” Jan said.

  “Hey!” Noah banged a silver platter on a windowsill. “You want to get something done, or do you want to waste our fucking time bickering like old women? Sit down, shut up, and if you
want to ask a damn question, raise your hand. Okay? You don’t know who we are, and that’s a good thing. If you don’t know us, then the bad guys probably don’t, either.”

  Silence stretched on for a few moments while Noah glared around the room.

  “It seems we’ve come to an understanding.” Noah nodded at her. “Ms. Matthews?”

  “Thanks.” She smothered the urge to smile. The front page of the newspaper lying on the desk killed any good humor. “What happened last night was horrible, but it goes to prove that the organization we’ve identified as SICA isn’t just an American problem. They are a global parasite.”

  “You keep saying that. What does sick-a mean?” Brandon leaned forward.

  “We’re working on that. One of our operatives was able to trace the money back to this company name in several countries. It could be an acronym or a collection of initials. But we’re going to crack it.” Lillian almost shivered at those words. Camilla used that line to instill confidence in clients. It felt good to say them. “Through some digging, we have unearthed at least one registration of a company name using the acronym S-I-C-A in every one of your countries. And others. Some date back to the seventies.”

  “How do we know this is connected?” Donovan asked.

  “The registrations used a variation of the same street address—101 Main Street. Doing a little digging showed that all of these are bogus, but someone went to a lot of work some time ago for a reason we don’t know yet.”

  “Is there one here?” the head of MI5 asked.

  “Yes, I have the full rundown to give you later.” Lillian glanced around the room. “We’re here today to compare notes, to lay what we all know out on the table, and help each other. Some of you have experienced a hit to your bottom line, while others see the interference of SICA in their day-to-day operations. We thought they were an American problem, but what we’ve discovered is that this agency isn’t just embedded in the CIA. They have people in other countries, too.”

  “Can you prove that?” Jan sat down in an armchair.

  “I believe I can, sir.” Lillian didn’t relish her meeting with that man. He wasn’t going to like what she had to tell him. According to their research, SICA had penetrated his country’s security network.