Mission: Her Protection (Team 52 Book 1) Page 12

  He kept licking, learning what strokes she liked best. He closed his mouth over her clit, toying with it, enjoying the hungry noises she made. Then, he went back to lapping, and slid a finger inside her. Damn, she was tight.

  Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed. “Please, Lachlan.”

  He could feel her body shaking. She was close to coming, and he couldn’t wait to watch.

  The doorbell buzzed.

  Lachlan cursed. “Shit. That’ll be dinner.”

  “No.” Her legs tightened on him, trapping him close to her.

  He thrust another finger inside her and leaned forward, licking her clit. “Come for me, Rowan.”

  Her hands clenched in his hair. “I’m going to scream.”

  “So scream.” He closed his mouth on her clit and sucked.

  Her body clamped down on his fingers and her back bowed. She moaned, biting her lip to try and control the noises coming from her throat.

  But Lachlan didn’t give a shit about the delivery guy, or anybody else. He wanted to hear her scream.

  Another suck, and she broke loose, crying out his name.

  And Lachlan had never seen or heard anything so beautiful in his whole damn life.

  He slid up, closed his mouth over hers, and swallowed the rest of her cries.

  Rowan lay sprawled on the couch, trying to recover. Her pulse was pounding, and her legs felt like they would never hold her up again. Hell, she was just trying to breathe.

  She heard Lachlan talking to someone, and she watched as he strode back in and tossed a paper bag on the kitchen counter.

  Then he was moving toward her, face intent. Her belly clenched, and so did all her girl parts.

  He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around him.

  “Where are—?”

  “Want you in my bed the first time I fuck you.”

  The low, harsh words shivered through her. If he thought she was going to complain, he was so wrong.

  He laid her down on the bed, then flicked on a lamp. Low, golden light spilled over them. Lachlan pressed one hand to the bed, and then, with one quick tug of his other hand, her robe was gone.

  His gaze roamed over her body.

  “Hurry, Lachlan,” she murmured.

  He straightened and yanked his shirt off. Wow. She would never, ever get tired of looking at him.

  “Tell me what you want.” he growled.

  “You.”

  He flicked open his jeans. “Tell me more.”

  “Your hands on me.” She let her gaze move over him greedily. As he shoved his jeans off, his thick cock sprang free. Oh. The gods had been very generous. “Your cock inside me.”

  Naked, he pressed one knee to the bed and his hand moved between her thighs again.

  “You’re so wet, Rowan. All for me.” He stroked her. “I’ll slide right in here.”

  “Yes, please.”

  He stood again, and this time, she heard the tearing of a foil packet. Then he was back. “Please what?”

  “Please, Lachlan, fuck me.”

  He groaned, his big body covering hers. He pushed her legs wide.

  Desire was making her burn up, and only Lachlan could cool it. Only he could make it better.

  She felt the blunt head of his cock nudge her folds. He moved his hips, his hard cock sliding up, teasing her clit.

  She moaned.

  “I hope you don’t care if my neighbors hear you scream.” His hot words whispered against her ear.

  She shook her head. “Cocky.” She gripped his ass, trying to pull him closer, get him to move deeper.

  “I love how much you want me.”

  “Lachlan—”

  He buried himself inside her with one hard thrust.

  Rowan cried out, her head pressing back against the bed. He was thick and hard, filling her up.

  He groaned. “You’re so damn tight.”

  Then he started moving, thrusting inside her—firm and a little rough. He pulled her legs tight against his sides, moving deeper inside her than anyone had before.

  “Rowan, open your eyes.”

  She did, her gaze colliding with his golden-tiger eyes. He stared at her as he moved inside her.

  Her belly pulled tight. Connected. Pleasure spilled inside her. She had never felt this connected to anyone. She felt a pull toward Lachlan, like gravity was binding her to him.

  It thrilled her and scared her at the same time.

  Each thrust of his cock had her pleasure rising higher, and she stopped thinking. Oh, oh. “Lachlan… I’m…”

  Her orgasm slammed into her and she screamed his name.

  He continued to slide into her, drawing her pleasure out. Then he rose up on his knees, and pulled out of her.

  She made a sound of protest, but then he flipped her onto her belly.

  “Not done with you, yet.” His rough hands shaped her ass. “Fucking hell.” One of his hands slid between her legs, and he buried two fingers inside her.

  With a moan, she pushed back against him. Then he cupped the globes of her ass again, kneading.

  “You have a pretty ass, Rowan.”

  She felt his thighs brush against the backs of hers, then he slammed back inside her.

  God. She grabbed the covers, twisting them in her fingers, trying to hold on. He gripped her hips and started a hard, fast, pounding rhythm.

  “Keep your ass up, Rowan.”

  His chest was pressed to her back, and he kept driving into her.

  Rowan felt another orgasm hit. The strength of it grayed her vision and she moaned, long and deep.

  Then Lachlan thrust again, buried deep. His groan was more of a growl as he came inside her.

  They collapsed on the bed, their harsh pants filling the air.

  She was pinned by his big body and she liked it. “If the bad guys come tearing in again, I won’t be able to move. You’ll have to rescue me.”

  His laugh was a deep rumble, and she loved the sound.

  He kissed her shoulder. “I’ve got you covered, sweetheart.”

  A warm glow filled her. No one had called her sweetheart before. She liked it. She liked him. She liked it all too much.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rowan sat sipping her mocha in Lachlan’s kitchen. She still wasn’t quite awake.

  Maybe it was because Lachlan had woken her up with his mouth just after six a.m. She closed her eyes reveling in the memory. Then, he’d added his hands and cock, and she’d probably disturbed the neighbors again.

  She took another big sip of her chocolate-laced coffee. She couldn’t find it in her to be sorry if she disturbed anyone’s sleep, because for the first time in a long time, she felt good.

  But that made her think of Lars, lying still and unmoving in a bed, and the others who’d died. Her heart clenched. It had to be a bad thing to feel so good, when everything else around her was so wrong.

  She heard footsteps and guessed that Lachlan was out of the shower. She was wearing another one of his T-shirts, and when he appeared, he was wearing no shirt, and only a pair of dark cargo pants riding low on his narrow hips.

  She drank him in. Damn, the man was fine. She eyed his tattoos and his bronze skin. That intriguing prosthetic arm that only added to his appeal. Not to mention those abs that she’d worshiped with her mouth earlier.

  His golden eyes were on her and he moved straight to her. His kiss was hard and deep.

  “Morning,” he murmured.

  “Can’t talk. Brain cells have been turned to mush.”

  He grinned, and she liked seeing him look so relaxed. Then he reached over, grabbed her mug, and sipped her coffee.

  “Hey,” she complained.

  He tucked her into his side and sipped again.

  She traced a finger over his tattoos. The large one on his shoulder made sense. She saw the elements of the Marine emblem in the intricate design—the eagle, the globe, the anchor, as well as a cross. But the letters down his side, she couldn’t guess.

>   “When did you get the tattoos?”

  “One on my shoulder after I made Force Reconnaissance. I was pretty darn proud.”

  She moved lower, her fingers tracing the letters. “And these?”

  She felt him tense and she was sad to see the ease go.

  “Those are the initials of the buddies I lost in my final mission. When I lost my arm.”

  Demons danced in his eyes and Rowan bit her lip. “What were their names?”

  “Don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ignoring it won’t help, Lachlan—”

  “That fancy PhD of yours in shrinking heads?” he spat.

  Rowan felt his words hit her, but she stiffened her spine. “No. I just care about you.”

  “Fuck.” He pressed his hands to the back of his neck.

  “I’m sorry, I should never have asked—”

  “Evans, Johnson, and Simms.”

  She stilled. “You marked them on your skin so you’d never forget them.”

  “I will never forget. I’ll never forget their screams. Never forget that my reckless mistake got them killed. Never forget that I couldn’t save them.”

  His words came at her like bullets. “Lachlan—”

  He closed his eyes. “I’ll never forget because I look at this metal arm every day and remember. I’ll never forget because I look in the mirror everyday and see my dad’s eyes.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Your father had a drinking problem that he used to try and cope with what was clearly PTSD. You are not him.”

  “I could be. I made the decision to head into a cave system in Afghanistan to gather intel on a rumored torture camp. I should have fucking waited for backup. I have to live with that.”

  She gripped his hand—his prosthetic one—twining their fingers together. Her hero, still beating himself up, even when he went to work every day to protect others.

  “There were more insurgents than we expected. They nabbed Evans and tortured him. We could hear him screaming.”

  Rowan held on, forcing herself to listen to every word. She knew now why Lachlan had made the decision to go in.

  “But by the time we got in there, Evans was dead. Blair got a knife to the eye, Johnson got a bullet to the head which didn’t kill him but left him a vegetable, and I…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’d tossed a few grenades and part of the roof collapsed.” His chest shuddered. “I’d pulled the pin on the next grenade when a rock hit me. I was pinned down, too fucking close to the grenade. Blast mangled my arm.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t imagine the agony.

  “Blair dragged me out, blood dripping down her face. Together, we got Johnson out.”

  They’d survived, but had been battered to hell. She hugged him hard. “You can’t save everyone, Lachlan. All you can do is make the choice to fight, protect, and know that sometimes your best isn’t good enough. Then you get up, and take each day at a time.”

  His arms wrapped around her. His embrace was so tight, she could barely breathe, but she didn’t let go. She stroked her hands over the sleek skin of his back, and slowly, she felt his muscles relax.

  “Team’ll be here soon,” he murmured.

  “What’s the plan for today?” she asked.

  “We’re going to link up to base from here.” He finally loosened his arms. His gaze searched her face. “How come you aren’t looking at me with pity, or disgust, or something?”

  “Because I don’t feel any of those things. Sorrow you got hurt, sympathy for your friends. But you’re alive, Lachlan, and you’re still being a hero with the work you do.”

  He pulled in a breath. “You’re too good for me.”

  She leaned in close. “I never want to hear you say that again.” She straightened and stole her coffee back from him. “Now, we have work to do.”

  His face turned serious. “We need to find the artifact.”

  She nodded. “I guess the best way to do that is to identify the people who took it.”

  “True, but they’re proving elusive.”

  “You don’t think it’s the Red Wolves.”

  “Nope.” His hand cupped her hip and squeezed. “I’d prefer you were dressed when my team arrives.”

  She rolled her eyes, but headed for the shower. By the time she’d dressed, she heard voices in the living room.

  When she entered, everyone looked up from where they were sitting, giving her a smile or a wave. Smith and Axel were at the counter, while the others were sitting on the couch. Axel gave her a lazy look followed by a wink.

  Rowan sighed. Why did she feel like she had a sign saying “I got laid by Lachlan all night long, and thoroughly enjoyed it” hanging over her head?

  As she got closer to the couch, Lachlan grabbed her hand and tugged her down beside him. He kept talking to Blair, who was fiddling with a tablet. He slid his hand up Rowan’s arm.

  She felt everyone watching, and she knew enough about Lachlan now to know the move was deliberate.

  “Got the connection,” Blair said.

  Brooks’ good-looking face filled Lachlan’s television screen, his glasses framing deep brown eyes. “Morning.”

  “Brooks,” Lachlan said.

  Today, the man’s T-shirt had a stormtrooper on it aiming a blaster and said “Stop, or I’ll shoot in your general direction.” Rowan felt a spurt of amusement.

  “Rowan, glad you’re okay,” Brooks said.

  “Thanks.”

  Lachlan folded his arms over his chest. “Okay, update us.”

  Brooks’ smile dissolved. “Seth got a few things out of the guys who tried to take Rowan.”

  Rowan glanced at Seth, but his face didn’t change. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, looking relaxed, but something about him made her think of a snake, coiled and ready to strike.

  “We’ve confirmed the guys in the gray vehicles were part of the Red Wolves,” Brooks said.

  “I spoke to Declan Ward at Treasure Hunter Security,” Lachlan said.

  “Hate those guys,” Axel muttered.

  “He confirmed the Red Wolves like artifacts, generally ones attached to crazy conspiracy theories, and are usually haphazard and messy with their attacks.”

  “But they don’t have the artifact,” Seth said.

  Everyone froze.

  Lachlan leaned forward. “They took Rowan because they’re still trying to find out about the artifact, and don’t know it’s missing.”

  Brooks nodded.

  “So there’s another player on the board,” Blair said.

  Lachlan scowled and glanced at Rowan. “And they might still try to get to Rowan.”

  God. She slumped back on the couch. “The most important thing is the artifact.”

  Brooks turned to face the screen on his wall. “I’m working hard to follow the money trail of the payment Airman Kowalski received. But these guys are good, and it’s buried deep. I was in contact with Detective MacKade.”

  There was a quiet snort, which Rowan thought came from Blair.

  “The police searched her house, but didn’t find anything. She’s disappeared, and her husband’s distraught.”

  Rowan wrapped her arms around herself. “And she has a sick daughter.”

  Brooks nodded. “The police are staking out the hospital where the airman’s daughter is being treated, just in case she tries to see the girl.”

  Lachlan ran a hand through his hair. He looked frustrated.

  “Wait!” Brooks started tapping his tablet like mad.

  “Brooks—” Lachlan began.

  The man’s head jerked up. “Reports of a disturbance at the Venetian.”

  Around her, the team all tensed.

  “Go on,” Lachlan said.

  “Nothing concrete yet,” Brooks said, “but some of the reports mention an attack. Involving ice.”

  Oh, no. Rowan gasped.

  Team 52 all leaped to their feet.

  “Let’s go.” Lachlan o
rdered. “We go in undercover, weapons hidden until we need them.”

  Rowan stood. “I’m coming.”

  Lachlan scowled.

  “You don’t want to leave her here alone,” Blair said quietly.

  Lachlan bit off a curse and gripped Rowan’s arm. “You’re coming with us, but you follow my orders.”

  When they pulled up to the Venetian, people were pouring out of the casino. The faint sound of screaming came through the windows.

  Lachlan touched his ear. “Comms check.”

  All his team and Brooks called in their checks. He pushed open the door, helping Rowan out of the backseat. His team moved in around him, keeping their bodies relaxed and casual.

  “Keep a low profile.” They didn’t need the warning. His team knew the drill. They were used to operating under the radar, and in unique circumstances.

  He looked down at Rowan who was eyeing the running crowd with concern.

  Lachlan looked over at Callie. “Callie, you stay with Rowan. Stay back, and only come in if I call for you.”

  The woman looked like she wanted to argue, but then nodded. Lachlan knew all his team preferred action over playing bodyguard, but they also took orders when they heard them.

  Lachlan gripped Rowan’s arms. “Stay with Callie. Be safe.”

  She nodded. “You, too.”

  Fuck. His team was watching him, but he ignored them and leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.

  With a smile, Callie took Rowan’s arm. As the rest of the team jogged into the casino, Callie pulled Rowan away from the panicking crowd and toward the restaurants.

  When Lachlan turned to the others, Blair, Axel, and Seth were grinning at him, and even Smith looked like he was fighting a smile.

  “Not a word.” Lachlan strode forward and out into the replica of Venice’s St. Mark’s Square.

  More panicked, fleeing people. The screams grew louder.

  Together, his team rushed over the bridge that spanned the artificial lake. Then he glanced down, and his gut tightened.

  Half of the lake was frozen solid. A gondola was caught up in the ice, pointing straight up.

  Shit. “Fan out.”

  They crossed the bridge, and on the other side, still more people were pushing and stumbling as they tried to get away.