Dangerous Assignment (Aegis Group Book 4) Read online

  Again, she didn’t speak, but he felt her doubt. He’d been in a lot of ugly situations, with seemingly no way out—and he’d always survived. If she didn’t believe him, he’d just have to prove it to her. She could trust him. Have faith in him.

  “Luke?”

  “Hm?”

  “Can I ask you for something?” Her voice was so small, so breakable.

  “I don’t know, can you?” He squeezed her. “What?”

  “Make love to me?” The way she said it, it might as well be her last request.

  His mouth dried up. She was so certain this was the end. That tomorrow, maybe the day after, it would be over for her.

  He wasn’t going to let that happen.

  But he also wasn’t the kind of man to deny this woman anything.

  Except…

  “I only had the one condom.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Teach him to not be prepared.

  “I can’t get pregnant.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, her sad, brown eyes on him. “Please?”

  “Sugar, you never have to ask twice.” He stroked her face. “I don’t want you to…”

  “To what? Have regrets? Luke, I’m not going to live that long.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” She twisted, straddling his lap. The way she looked at him, there was no question she was going to get what she wanted.

  He grasped her hips at the same time she ground against him. Shit, but it felt good.

  “Y—A—wait.” He leaned his head back against the wall, holding her right there—with his dick trapped between them. Such sweet agony.

  She leaned against him and kissed his cheek.

  “You can say no,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Most of her hair had come lose and fell over her shoulder. She was a seductress.

  “No—I mean about now? We’re going to get out of here.”

  She unbuttoned the top two buttons on her shirt and caressed the newly exposed skin. Two more buttons and he could see the top of her breasts, her fingers sliding along the upper swell. Another two. Cream colored satin cupped her, a little bow right between the mounds tying her up like a present.

  His cock was sure interested.

  She unbuttoned the last one and shrugged out of the shirt, her gaze never leaving his face.

  Her goal was clear. There was no doubt in her mind about this moment.

  Abigail leaned in, her gaze on his mouth. He sat up, meeting her partway. Her lips parted, his tongue slipped past them, teasing hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her more securely against his groin. She rolled her hips, a promise of what was to come.

  She wanted him to make love to her.

  He’d do it right.

  A proper body worshiping.

  8.

  Luke suckled her lower lip between his, conscious of the way her breathing hitched when he bit down. She wasn’t delicate, but she should be treated as if she were. Because she was precious.

  Luke’s hands coasted down and up her back. He’d noticed the scars in passing, but now they made sense. They’d each lived a rough life in service to a greater cause. And they’d lived.

  He wasn’t about to let her die now. Not after everything she’d been through.

  Whatever came after this was out of his control, but he’d make sure tomorrow wasn’t the end. For tonight, he’d make love to her and worship her like she deserved.

  He hooked his fingers around the catch, releasing the closure on her bra. She shrugged the satin garment off, tossing it aside. He cupped her breasts, catching the hard nubs between his fingers. She arched her back, her lower lip between her teeth.

  They’d fucked last night. She’d ridden his face. They’d scratched an itch.

  This was different.

  Her lids lifted and she stared at him, not as the agent or the bodyguard or anything but just—her. The real her. The one he’d glimpsed without knowing it.

  That was the woman he was with.

  Her nimble fingers ran down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed both his jacket and shirt off his shoulders.

  What the lady wanted, the lady got.

  He tossed his clothes off the bed, never once looking away from her. The moment stretched on…heavy with anticipation.

  She wouldn’t hear it if he told her this wasn’t the last time he’d make love to her, so he kept that to himself. He cupped her cheek and she bent her head, but the moment before their lips touched he gently abraded her nipple between his two fingers. She gasped and her lids closed, her back arched.

  He dropped his other hand to the ignored breast and did the same. She tossed her head back, chest thrust forward. Her breasts were glorious, round and full. He bent, licking one then the other. Her hand closed around the back of his neck, pressing him closer. He closed his teeth around one, just enough to capture the tit and sucked. Her breathing caught and her hips rolled against his.

  “Harder,” she gasped.

  He gently bit down until she groaned, rubbing the tip of his tongue to her flesh.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Luke rubbed his free hand over her other breast, a counterpoint to his rougher treatment. She undulated against him, grinding their pelvises together.

  He could imagine doing this, buried inside of her. She’d make him come long before he was done, that was for sure. He switched breasts, applying the same counterpoint of gentle to rough.

  Her hand slid between them, stroking his erection through his trousers.

  “Luke.” She said his name like a plea.

  He shifted, laying her down on the day bed, and rose over her. She cupped one breast. Her dark hair, spread out against the white sheets, was sensual. He wanted to bury his hands in it, do things to her mouth. But her hand was traveling lower.

  “Mine.” He pushed her hand away and cupped her mound, the heat of her pussy searing his fingers through the fabric.

  She gasped, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.

  He clawed at her belt, the button, and zipper. Underneath it she was soft, wet, ready. She kicked off her shoes, and he yanked her clothes down her long, lean legs leaving her naked in their borrowed bed.

  She drew her knees up, lips parted, eyes on him.

  This was about her. Her pleasure.

  He grasped her ankle and bent to kiss the arch of one foot, then the other. He started slow, working his way up her ankles and calves. Around the time he reached her knees she dipped her fingers into her pussy, distracting him for a moment. He covered a whole six inches before he remembered to slow down. Savor everything.

  Luke grasped her wrist as he neared the apex of her thighs and pulled her fingers away. He locked eyes with her and sucked the digit between his lips, tasting her. Her tongue darted out, over her lips.

  Did she want a taste of him?

  Too bad.

  He released her and slid his fingers between her labia, feeling her wetness.

  “Luke.” She reached for him, but he guided her hands to the sheets.

  “Remember, you can’t scream,” he said.

  “I don’t scream.”

  He grinned. Someday he’d figure out what did make her scream.

  Luke eased down to his elbows, wedging her legs farther apart, spreading her open. He leaned in and kissed her mound, the delicate skin over her clit, and then her pussy, thrusting his tongue into her. Her hips came up off the bed, and he was there to cup her ass, hold her right there.

  Her hips shifted, grinding against his face. Two fingers slid down around her clit. She captured the nub, rubbing it just the way she liked while he got a front row seat, fucking her with his tongue. Her thighs tightened around him, drawing him closer, deepening his thrust. Her fingers worked and she groaned.

  The taste of her cum hit his tongue the same moment her spine bowed. He kept stroking her, giving her the even, easy rhy
thm that had stolen her mind until she lay lax and spent in his hands.

  Luke eased her to the bed and kissed her thigh, her hip. He adjusted his erection before crawling up to lay next to her.

  Abigail rolled toward him, one arm across his chest. Her eyes weren’t quit focused, but her lower lip was damp and swollen. She looked like a woman well-fucked, with her hair wild and that gleam in her eye.

  Her hand stroked his chest, his abs. She leaned over him, her face lost in the shadow of her hair, and kissed him. Slow, steady, her tongue flicked along his lips while her hand wiggled past his remaining clothing, her fingers caressing his cock.

  He rocked into her hand. It felt so damn good. But this was about her.

  Luke tugged her away.

  “We should sleep,” he said.

  “You haven’t made love to me yet,” she whispered.

  “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I can’t get pregnant.”

  “But what about—”

  “I don’t have anything.” She cupped his cheek. “I can’t hurt you more than I already have.”

  “You haven’t hurt me.” Not that he didn’t doubt she could.

  She bent her head and set her lips against his. Her hand twisted in his grasp, slipping free. She straddled his thighs, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants and sliding both down, freeing his cock.

  He should stop her. But all he could do was watch her push his pants down enough to get them out of the way.

  “Last chance to say no.” She grasped his cock, her olive-toned skin so pale compared to his.

  She scooted forward, her intent clear. Her confidence, the way she stared at him, the desire simmering there—it was all for him. She held his shaft in one hand, the other at his hip, and lowered herself.

  His eyes closed at the first kiss of her bare pussy to his cock.

  This wasn’t exactly the moment to say so, but he’d never been bare with a woman. Not once. But she broke rules.

  Her channel was slick, wet, and hugged him tight. Gravity worked for them, helping her sink completely to his balls in one go. Her breasts thrust forward, captured between her arms as she sucked in deep breaths, nails digging into his hips.

  Luke lifted, jostling her a bit. Her vaginal walls clamped down, and his vision went hazy.

  Fuck.

  He was way too damn close.

  This had to be good for her, too.

  He grasped her nipples between his fingers, tugging her down. She groaned and lowered slowly, pulling back against his hold, lips spread in a wide smile.

  So the lady liked a little rough treatment.

  He’d save that factoid for later.

  Now was just pleasure.

  Luke kissed her, an open-mouthed, tongue thrusting action. He rocked up into her and rubbed his thumbs over her areola. Her hips shifted, moving with him now.

  He wasn’t getting deep enough.

  The angle was all wrong.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled until he was on top. Her legs curled around his hips, and he drove into her, deeper, until her lashes fluttered and her lips parted.

  There.

  That was it.

  He stared into her eyes, pumping in and out. The feel of her skin against his, the drag and slip of her flesh, and her wetness coating him spurred him on. He hooked his arms under her shoulders, holding her in place. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  “Oh—Luke.” She tipped her head back.

  “Are you going to come?”

  “Almost.” Her breath hitched.

  “Come on, Yael, come on my cock,” he whispered.

  She gasped, her lashes fluttered, and her pussy clamped down. He grit his teeth, pumping into her tight, hot vice grip until the skin at the base of his spine prickled. He growled, pumping faster until his toes curled.

  He pulled out, letting his dick slide between her folds and groaned, spilling his seed into the sheets.

  Luke sucked in several breaths. Her hands tugged on his arms until he eased down to lay next to her. The cool air whispered over his heated flesh. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, and blindly kissed her face, landing somewhere on her cheek. She chuckled and found his mouth.

  “You said my name,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t scream.”

  “I didn’t.” She kissed his cheek. “I like hearing you say it.”

  “But don’t do it again?” He could read between the lines.

  “It’s not wise. Being with me isn’t wise, either. You should go. Save yourself.”

  “I already told you, sugar, not going to happen.” He squeezed her to him.

  “You didn’t have to pull out,” she muttered.

  “Birth control fails.”

  “I can’t get pregnant.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Yes, I do. I’m barren, Luke. I cannot have children. Ever.”

  He continued stroking her back. The way she said it, that knowledge was significant for some reason. There was a piece of the story she wasn’t telling him. Because it was connected to Mossad? Was that why they’d chosen her? A teenage girl who couldn’t get pregnant…now why would they need someone like that?

  “Doesn’t matter.” Luke kissed her forehead while hoping that someday he got to meet the mystery people responsible for robbing a girl of her youth.

  “You’re sweet.” She stroked his chest. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

  “And I already told you, I’m getting us out of here. Trust me?” He glanced down at her, but her gaze was troubled. Dark.

  Where the hell was she?

  He paced yet another hotel room booked under yet another name.

  She was gone.

  Omar had had Yael in his hand. He could have squeezed the life out of her, and the stupid idiot had let her get away.

  “Mr. Ahmadi?” The voice was muted.

  He approached the door, drawing his gun.

  “Who is it?” He stuck close to the wall.

  Yael might have recognized him. He’d been so focused on the bombs; he hadn’t been able to watch her.

  “Room service.”

  “Leave it. I just got out of the shower.”

  He listened to the movements on the other side of the door, the clank of dishes, and counted to thirty.

  How long until Mossad got wind of her? The moment they did, it would be wheels up, boots on the ground, find her or else. And then things would get really tricky, because she thought he was dead, and Mossad knew he was alive.

  Why couldn’t she just die already?

  It would make his job so much easier.

  He opened the door and wheeled the room service cart in, and locked the door. A quick check under the cloth revealed no bombs, no surprises, just a plain service meal. Exactly what he’d asked for.

  The decision to make was did he go after her himself or did he go through Mossad?

  There were risks with either option.

  Yael was slippery. Chances were, if he went after her himself she’d sneak away, regroup, and attack him later. No, revealing himself to her like that was a bad idea. But going through Mossad meant she could very likely reveal his betrayal before he got to her. The key would be to get a jump on the search for her, take control early on, and no one would question him. After all, it would make perfect sense for him to be involved in her assessment.

  That was it then.

  He crossed to his bag and dug through until he found the phone with the blue tape. The paper wrapped around it contained the details he needed to recall, the lies he’d told, all of which kept him from being suspected.

  Abigail barely blinked.

  Not a soul had traversed the alley alongside the shop below since a man and his son some time ago. She pushed the hunger gnawing at her deep down and remained where she was.

  What if the Jordan police had Luke? He’d gone out as soon as the sun broke the horizon to get food, some suppli
es and make contact with his team. But what if he’d finally done as she asked—and left? What then?

  Her gut said he was coming back, even though her brain told her it made no sense.

  Luke had nothing to gain returning for her. She was a danger. A risk. She’d never been his responsibility. And yet, she knew deep down, he wouldn’t leave her. That certainty eroded a very important part of herself. The part that put her mission and safety above everything else.

  The best thing to do would be to slip out now. Take the choice out of his hands. He’d be pissed at her when he got back, but at least then he’d be safe. If the police caught him, he could tell them the truth or a lie, and that would be it. He’d go home. Besides, it would be easier for her to slip out on her own. Jordan wasn’t as conservative a country as most, but still, if she could find a hijab and clothes to disguise herself, no one would look twice at her. Luke was the one who’d stick out. There was no disguising he was an American. It was in the way he walked, talked, and breathed.

  No, she owed him. She had to get him out of Jordan, and then they could go their separate ways.

  A figure paused at the entrance to the alley.

  She’d know those shoulders anywhere.

  Luke turned down the small space between buildings.

  Abigail took the stairs two at a time and had the side door unlocked and open by the time Luke reached it. He stepped in, two big bags in each hand.

  He shook his head, their agreed upon signal that he hadn’t been followed.

  Neither spoke.

  She locked the door while he climbed the stairs.

  He’d exchanged his suit pants, shirt, and jacket for boots, sand colored pants, a long sleeved shirt and a hat. Tourist clothes, and good ones at that.

  She did a perimeter check around the shop, searching the street for anyone giving the building a curious eye or loiterers. The sleepy street wasn’t busy enough to conceal covert observation.

  Abigail followed Luke upstairs to find he’d laid out several changes of clothes and enough food for a few meals.

  “You got all of this in a few hours?” She reached out and ran her hand along a woman’s thobe, a Jordan styled kaftan worn by more traditional people.

  “I stole it.” He only sounded marginally guilty. “There was a hotel with a washing service next door. I took this off the lines and left some cash. Will these work? I thought you could wear this in the city, and then we could change into these.”