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In a Bad Way
  • Текст добавлен: 26 октября 2016, 22:40

Текст книги "In a Bad Way"


Автор книги: Karin Tabke



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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-one

It was loud and crowded, unusual for a Thursday night. Immediately Izzy looked for Maddox and found him at the bar facing the dressing rooms.  He looked past her, giving no clue that they knew each other, and sipped his drink.

Her heart pounded in her chest, suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Sitting next to him was Flynn. He made no effort to conceal his identity or his displeasure that she was working.  When they made eye contact, she quickly looked away only to find Andre’s dark eyes on her.  He looked over to where Flynn sat, then back to her.  His eyes glittered.

Izzy quickly made her rounds.  Approaching the bar, Andre pulled her aside.

“You have admirer,” he said, inclining his head toward Flynn.

“I told him not to bother me here.”

“Let him bother. I get you pill.”

“No more pills, Andre.”

He grabbed her by the arm.  “You give pill if I say you give pill.”

She yanked her arm from his grasp.  “No more pills.”  Then she hurried past him and gave Dave the bartender her orders.  An hour passed.  Flynn nursed a drink while Maddox appeared to be getting tanked.  She didn’t make contact because her tables were on the opposite side of the club from where they sat at the bar.

She noticed one of her front tables nearest the stage that had just been full of visiting Japanese businessmen had been cleared.  She was sure the party wasn’t done; she had just refreshed their drinks.  Andre came up behind her and said, “Special guest come. You dance on table. Gift from Boris.”

Her jaw dropped.  While it wasn’t unheard of, and actually encouraged because table dances went for five hundred dollars a girl, the girls were expected to take everything but their bottoms off.  The special guest, she suspected was Bushnik.

“Whe-when is he coming?”

“Ahhh,” Andre said, smiling. “He comes now.”

Izzy looked past Andre to the back of the club where there was a private entrance for VIPs.  Surrounded by several men in dark suits, strode the big blond Russian, Miroslav Bushnik. He looked far more intimidating person then he did in the photographs she’d been shown.

Izzy slid the device from her bikini bottom, her hand sweaty from nerves.  Please don’t drop it. As the entourage approached, she grabbed Andre’s arm.  “He looks mean.”

Andre pushed her hand from his arm.  “Is very mean.  Do as told, no problems.”

As the man approached, his arctic blue eyes swept her from the tips of her peekaboo stilettos to the top of her blue-tipped head.  His nostrils flared when she raised her chin, not flinching from his cold stare.  He said something in Russian to Andre, who grabbed her by the chin and made her look down as the Russian approached.

“Show respect, dancer girl.”

Izzy twisted out of his grasp and when she did she lost her balance and fell against Bushnik.

He caught her, his big hands cool.  He looked down at her, the silver striations in his ice blue eyes pulsing.  “Do you know who I am?” he asked in perfect English.

“Do you know who I am?” Izzy asked.

The Russian stared at her, shocked by her impertinence.

Andre grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the guest of honor.  “My apology, I get different girl.”

“No, no, my giant friend,” Bushnik crooned. “This one will serve me very well.  Let her go.”

Reluctantly, Andre did.  Bushnik pointed to Izzy’s lip and asked her, “Did you talk back to Andre?”

“Yes.”

Bushnik sat down in the chair one of his flunkies held out for him and patted his lap, indicating she sit down there. Shaking, Izzy did as instructed.  Rigidly, she sat on his hard lap.  Bushnik was big, he was ugly as hell, but he was in great shape.  His thighs were hard as oak beneath her bottom. He grasped her chin and turned her face to look at him.  “You ever talk back to me, I will cut your lips off.” He shoved her off his lap, then snapped his fingers.  “Vodka, then dance.”

“You heard, vodka, now!” Andre bellowed to Izzy.  She hurried off to the bar.  When she looked for Flynn, her stress level skyrocketed. He was nowhere to be found. Maddox had moved to a table closer to her side of the room.  She saw Justin and a few others she was sure were undercover cops.  Their presence should have reassured her, but unless they were right on her, Bushnik could break her neck with a snap of his fingers before any of them got close enough to stop him.

Izzy pulled it together.  She could do this.  Keep calm and carry on.

With her tray full, Izzy strode back to the table like she owned the place.  “Good evening, gentlemen,” she said cheerfully, placing a chilled shot glass in front of each of them, “Welcome to Surf’s Up, where for a dollar, the tits always shine.”  Grasping the bottle of subzero vodka from her tray, Izzy filled each glass, starting with Bushnik, then poured one for herself. Grasping it, she raised it and said, “Выпьем за то, чтобы у нас всегда был повод для праздника!”

The shocked look on the men’s faces was priceless.  “What?” she said, “You can’t toast to more reasons to party?”

Bushnik laughed heartily and threw back his shot, then slammed his glass down, calling for another round.  Izzy poured several more rounds before she picked up her tray and started to move away from the table.

Andre grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him. “Where you go?”

“I have others tables to serve.”

“Only one table you serve tonight.  Time for dance.”

“Get someone else,” she said, looking around the room for help.

“You do it now or I break arm.”

She wasn’t going to do it.  Not again.  Not even for Alex.

“Please, Andre, ask someone else.”

“Miroslav want you and only you.”

“I don’t want to,” she said her voice higher now, catching the attention of other tables.

“Boss say give guest whatever guest want. He want you, I give you.”

“I’m not for sale, Andre,” she said, not backing down.  She wouldn’t get up on the table and strip.

His hand squeezed her arm tighter and twisted. “You are if I say so.”

“Andre, you’re hurting me!” she cried.

“Take your hand off her.” It was Flynn.

Izzy bit back a cry of surprise.  Flynn was going to blow her cover and his!

All of her work, all of her plans would be for nothing.  Alex would die if she wasn’t dead already.

“I’m okay,” she said to him, moving into Andre.

Izzy’s next words lodged in her throat when she looked up into a pair of murderous blue eyes.  There was no doubt in her that if Andre didn’t release her, Flynn was going to kill him.

“Butt out, cop,” Andre said, turning to Flynn, taking her arm with him.

In a lightning quick move, Flynn jabbed his fist up into Andre’s throat. The effect was immediate.  Andre released her arm and grabbed for his throat as he fought for breath.

In the next instant, with an absurd amount of force, Flynn brought his elbow around and slammed it hard into Andre’s solar plexus, dropping him to his knees.

The table of Russians behind her stood, nearly turning the table over with their zeal to get to Flynn.  He pulled Izzy behind him as he took a step toward them. “Her shift’s over,” Flynn bit out. Grasping her hand, he pulled her away from the writhing giant and the table of pissed-off Russians, through the front door of the club where Maddox stood waiting.

Tightening his grip, Flynn led her around the back of the building, stopping beneath a security light.  Gently, he took her chin in his hand and lifted it for a better look.  He brushed his thumb across her split bottom lip.  As light as his touch was, it smarted.  She winced. “When this is all over, I’m going to kill him for that,” he said roughly.

Without another word, Flynn handed her off to Maddox, who had followed them, then strode from the parking lot.

“I need to get my things,” Izzy said, shaking as she watched the rigid line of Flynn’s back and the long angry strides that took him farther away from her.

“Let’s get in and out before the giant and those goons come looking for you.”

“Is Andre going to be okay?” she asked, wondering why she cared.  Andre had showed his hand.  And it was ugly.

"His pride is going to suffer the most,” Maddox said, following her into the back door of the club.

Unseen, Izzy slipped into her dressing room.

As she assumed, Andre was nowhere to be found; luckily, neither were Bushnik’s men.  She didn’t bother changing; she just grabbed her bag and headed back outside with Maddox and hurried down the street with him, her heart pounding a mile a minute.

Once they were safely crossing the bridge back to Oakland, Maddox reached over and grabbed her cold hands.  “You okay?”

“Yes. No.  I think so.”

“You did great, I’m just sorry we didn’t get the bug planted.”

Izzy grinned.  “What makes you think I didn’t plant it?”

Maddox looked over at her.  “Did you?”

“Of course I did.  When I pretended to stumble I slipped it in to his pants pocket.”

“Why didn’t you say something!” Maddox quickly called in to his task force confirming the device had been activated and was receiving properly.

“Hot damn,” Maddox whooped, “we’re already receiving intel.” When he hit the ‘End’ button, he grinned widely.  “You were pretty amazing in there, yucking it up with those guys.”

Maddox’s excitement calmed her nerves a little. “I was scared to death. I just wish Flynn hadn’t had to step in. Going back with the thumb drive will be hard.”

“Flynn did what needed to be done.  If it hadn’t been him, it would have been me. There’s no getting around what was out of our control. Andre would have broken your arm unless you climbed up on that table.”

“Will I have to go back?”

Maddox nodded. “I don’t think what happened tonight is a deal breaker for you and Andre.  If anything, he’ll have a hard-on for Flynn’s takedown.  With the video, that’s a guarantee.”  He smiled, though it wasn’t a happy one.  “It’ll all come down to how you sell it, Isadora.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Two hours later, after Maddox had walked her to her room and instructed her not to open the door for anyone except him, Izzy managed to get a handle on her nerves.  Well, as much as one whose life was completely turned upside down and inside out could. Still jumpy, she hopped into the shower, wondering if they had been followed back to the hotel and if her life would ever go back to its pre-Surf’s Up, boring normal.

Just as Izzy stepped out of the shower there was a knock on her hotel door. Stifling a cry of surprise, she stiffened, standing silent, afraid if she moved, whoever was at the door would kick the door down and come after her.  Her cell phone was in the bedroom. It was almost three in the morning and the person knocking on her door had to be up to no good.

Only thing to do was get her phone, call Maddox and lock herself in the bathroom until he got to her.

Tiptoeing to the nightstand, she grabbed her phone.

“Open the door.”

Her heart thudded and she nearly dropped the phone as if it was a hot coal.

Flynn.

“Go away,” she said, her voice so shaky she didn’t recognize it.  Adrenaline pumped through her by the gallon.  Her hands shook and she felt nauseous.  She didn’t have the stomach for this cloak-and-dagger stuff and she didn’t have the stomach to fight with Flynn again.

“I’m not leaving until you open the door,” he said.

She believed him.  Emotionally, she was in no condition to talk to him. She was drained. So much heartache in such a short period of time.  She was so tired of feeling irrelevant. Between the adrenaline rush and the emotional exhaustion, her body began to shudder uncontrollably.  If she could disappear from the crazy, close her eyes, and sleep for a month, it wouldn’t be long enough.

Yet, despite it all, the one person’s arms she wanted wrapped around her as he told her it was all going to be okay was the one person who had hurt her the most.

“Isa,” Flynn said.  “Please. Let me in.”

Her belly did a slow roll as a fresh shot of adrenaline rushed through her.  God, why did he make it so hard for her? Why was she going to open the door and make it harder for herself? Slowly she opened the door, and when she looked up at him, her heart ached for him.  He looked as miserable and as broken as she felt.  Closing her eyes, she said, “Please, if you care about me even a little, just go.  I can’t do this, Flynn.”

Silently he stared down at her. Frustration swelled, but she forced it down.  He wasn’t going to get to her again.  No more.  She attempted to push the door shut, but he stiff-armed the door, stopping her.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

He looked past her as if he suspected her of having someone in her room.

“Really, Flynn, do you think so little of me?”

He continued to stand silent, staring at her.  If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was afraid of something.  But that was impossible. Special Agent Flynn Ryker wasn’t afraid of anything. He’d proved that when he handled Andre earlier.  She was still amazed at how swiftly he’d reduced the giant to a writhing pile of Russian gruel. So again she asked him, “Why are you here?”

Seeming at a loss for words, he simply said, “I don’t know.”

The thud of her heart as she watched him struggle with some inner demon made it difficult to breathe.

“I—can’t—” Raking his fingers through his hair, he looked straight at her. His blue eyes had darkened dramatically.  “Nothing has been the same since you walked into my life.” He dropped his hands to his sides, and stood humbly before her. “Everything is wrong with it since you walked out of it. I can’t stay away.”

It was an admission that cost him by exposing his weakness. Weakness, to a proud man like Flynn, must be terrifying.  Izzy’s chest tightened as she tried to breathe. She gripped the door so tightly, her fingernails dug into the paint.  When she thought she could speak and her voice wouldn’t tremble, she finally said, “I let you inside me physically and emotionally and you disrespected that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So what are we going to do about that?”

“I don’t know,” he said hoarsely.

Izzy’s heart swelled with emotion for him.  Every fiber of her being wanted to wrap her arms around him, press his head to her heart, and tell him it would be okay.  But she couldn’t.  She wanted more than his admission that he couldn’t stay away from her.

“What do you want, Flynn?”

“You.”

“What parts?”

“All of them.”

Izzy’s heart thumped painfully.  “What are you willing to do for that privilege?”

“Anything I have to.”

Stepping back into the room, she motioned him in.  “Then I think we have some things to talk about.”

When he walked past her, she closed the door, locking it.

Tightening the sash around her robe, she moved to the edge of the bed and sat down to face Flynn, who stood gazing out the window.

“Flynn?” she said softly, prompting him to talk to her.

He turned around and she held her breath.  He looked like he’d lost his best friend.  Was he having second thoughts?  Just the thought of it made her sick to her stomach.  There were no guarantees, was it right to expect them?

“Hurt me with the truth, Flynn, I can take it. Please respect me enough not to lessen the sting with a lie.”

Swiping his hand across his chin, he looked hard at her, and then said, “I admit I have a problem with the fact that some of my friends and coworkers have seen you half naked.  And yes, I’d give my right nut for you not to go back to the club for any reason.”  He shook his head and looked to the ceiling before looking back her.  “But that’s not why I’ve been such an ass, Isa.”  He stepped toward her, and knelt before her.  Taking her hands, he said, “When Stiles offered you money in public and I saw what it did to you—it tore me up. I just wanted to tear him apart for hurting you like that.  It scared the hell out of me that one; I could feel that and two; I had no clue what to do with it. I still don’t.”

“Are you afraid of your feelings for me?”

“Terrified.”

“Why?”

“Because just the thought of losing you makes me sick to my stomach.”  He dropped his head to their clasped hands.

“I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

Raising his head, he tightened his jaw. “The other night, Pink,” he rasped, emotion clogging his throat, “when I saw your kitchen door open, I about lost it. I knew someone had breached your house. I knew what they were there for. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being hurt.  Or worse. That fear will haunt me for as long as you’re alive.”  He shook his head.  “After you left my house, I went into your room and it hit me how empty it was.  How empty I felt.  It scared me, too.  Feeling that way.  I don’t want to feel that way.  Ever.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 “So at your core, you’re really a wuss?” she asked, smiling, trying to lighten the intensity of the conversation.

“Yeah, a big, fat, scaredy-cat wuss.”

Izzy straightened.  “So you’re not embarrassed by me?”

“Hell no.”

“And you have no problem taking me out in public?”

“None.”

“No problem taking me to events or social gatherings where some of your friends and or coworkers who were at the bachelor party will also be in attendance.”

“No.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I told you, it bothers me.  More than a lot. But I’m not embarrassed by you. I’d be proud to have you on my arm. The guys I work with know better than to be disrespectful to you or give me a hard time.”

“What about their women?”

“It’ll be what it’ll be, Isa.  We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Sliding her hands from his, she moved back on the bed and sat yoga style.  “All of that aside, you’re afraid of losing me?”

“Terrified.”

“But Flynn, there are no guarantees.  What if, I don’t know, things didn’t work out for one of us?”

“We try very hard to make that not happen.”  Grasping her hands again he said, “Look, I am who I am.  You are who you are.  I promise not to allow my fear to control my actions.  I want you to fly, Isa, I want to fly alongside you.  But I’m going to need some patience along with a huge learning curve to get started.”

“I need you to promise not to walk away from me when things get hard.”

“I want the same promise from you, because I’m not an easy man.”

“You’re a grumpy man.”

“Tiny dancer, I’ve never done this before, I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up.  Throw me a bone.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll fuck it up a time or two.  But I like a challenge.”

“So you’re in?”

“Yeah, I’m in.”

“Good answer,” he said, pushing her back into the mattress.

Lowering his lips to hers, he said, “Since we’re being honest with each other, tell me why you ran away after your orgasm?”

Swallowing hard, Izzy knew she had only one option.  “Because you could do that to me, so easily.  Because it felt so good, I craved it again as soon as it was over. Because I was afraid of all of the emotions you stirred in me. Because I was afraid of how much I wanted you, I ran.”

“Don’t ever run from me again, Isa.”

Chapter Thirty-three

“I won’t,” Pink whispered.

Emotion churned so deep within Flynn’s body he ached. The need to take this amazing woman into his arms and protect her from all the bad in the world overpowered him.  She’d burrowed herself deep into his heart.  Afraid of the power of his feelings for her, Flynn swallowed hard.

“Flynn,” she said softly, rising on her toes so her lips touched his.  “Stop looking at me like that.”

Fathomless ocean colored eyes stared up at him in wonder. His heart pounded painfully against his rib cage. What a paradox she was to him. Innocent, sweet, and soft as a kitten on one side. Turn her over and she was bubble gum scented sensuality with a quirky sense of humor and more attitude in her little finger than most women had in their entire bodies.

What a fool he’d been to walk away from her. Not once but twice.

Her name meant a gift from the gods. That was what she was to him. A gift. And she had given him the greatest gift of all, her trust. He wasn’t going to mess it up. “How do I look at you?”

“Fierce.”

“That’s how you make me feel, Isa. Fierce.  God help the person who tries to come between us.”  He brushed his lips across hers.  “I’ll kill them.”

Her small body trembled beneath his.  The intensity of his words stilled him.  So did the truth.  Never had he felt the deep-seated bloodlust to destroy as he felt at that moment.  Not even when he’d watched his father slowly kill his mother.  Not even when he’d arrived at brutal crime scenes had his duty to protect and serve incited his passion the way Pink did now.

He would kill for her.  Without hesitation.  Without remorse. Whatever it took to keep her safe, he’d do it gladly.

“Come home with me,” he said, gathering her in his arms.

“Okay,” she answered.

He smiled and kissed her forehead.  “Like you had a choice.”

Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body into his, and slid her tongue along his bottom lip.  “I’m going to rock your world, Special Agent Ryker.”

“You already have,” he said. “Now let’s go home.”

Flynn let her go. In a mad frenzy, they packed her up and were in his car heading back to Piedmont in record time.

The fifteen-minute drive would have felt more like fifteen hours, but for the fact Pink had her tongue stuck in his ear and her greedy little fingers stroked his raging erection.

“I’m going to lick every inch of your body,” she teased.  “You’re going to be so hard and so ready you won’t be able to control yourself.”  Smiling against his jaw she softly added, “I can’t wait to touch your—hmm, what shall I call it?  Cock? Penis? Or do you have a name for him?”

“I don’t care what you call it, just never ignore it.”

Pink laughed.  “Never.  How could I?” Pressing her lips to the throb at the base of his throat, she stroked him.  His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.  “You have a spectacular penis, Flynn.  It’s so big and thick and warm.” Her strokes became bolder.  “I love how all I have to do is look at you and it says hello.”

She slid her hand beneath his shirt.  “I love the way your body feels. Hard, sleek and powerful, like a jungle cat.”

Leaning across the console, she slid her tongue along his clavicle, and then bit him.  His cock jumped against the denim of his jeans.

“Pink,” he warned.  “Don’t make me pull over.”

She bit him again, and he nearly lost control.  “I dare you.”

Holy hell, she was going to get them both killed.  They were two minutes from his house.  He gunned the Vette, taking the corner tight and fast.  The garage door yawned open.  Flynn passed beneath it, shoved the car into park, flung off his seat belt as she flung off hers and yanked the little sexpot across his lap even before the garage door came down behind them.

His lips slammed down onto hers, ravaging their softness like a starved man at a feast. Opening the door, Flynn pulled her out with him. Standing, he hiked her legs around his waist, and still kissing her, strode into the house.

Just two steps inside, he turned with her and pressed her back against the wall. Yanking his lips from hers, he tore her shirt open and said roughly, “I need inside you now, Isa.”

Pulling off her shoes, he pushed her yoga pants down one leg. He hissed in a breath.  “You are a very bad girl.”  She wasn’t wearing panties.

“Shut up and kiss me,” she commanded.

His lips swooped down on hers as his arm tightened around her waist, holding her straining body against his.

Pink, moaned beneath his lips as she wrestled her shirt off and then her bra.

Yanking his shirt open, exposing his chest, she pressed her bare breasts against him, as her busy hands shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs. His engorged cock thrust up between them, the head sliding along her sweltering seam.

“You are soaking wet,” he moaned. Greedy for her, he lifted her and in a slow sweet glide, Flynn guided her down onto his throbbing cock head. Then he exhaled a long hissing breath as he filled her balls deep, savoring the hot rush of pleasure her tight warmth gave him.

“God damn, Isa, you feel good.”

“Flynn,” she breathed.  “Don’t ever stop wanting this.”

Smoothing her hair back from her face, he lifted her chin so their gazes met. Emotional lightning struck him hard in the gut.  Her stormy eyes were so dark they looked black. In their depths, her essence revealed itself.  A fractured soul, but not a broken one. Pink’s true beauty wasn’t her exotic features or her voluptuous curves. It was her spirit that resonated the most with him, only he’d been too arrogant to see it at first. She had hid behind her blue wig and false eyelashes.  Her smart mouth and pride. Thinking she was a down-on-her-luck stripper with an agenda because of his prejudice, he’d been too blinded by his ego to give her a chance to prove him wrong.

All along, Isa possessed an innocent belief in the human spirit, despite her rough start.  That was what defined her.

 Now, connected to her like this?  Their bodies so perfectly melded? This meeting of mind, body, and spirit was the most natural thing he had ever done in his life.  This house alone would never be a home, he realized, because it wasn’t about walls.  It was about flesh and bones.  Heart. Home was here, where Pink was.

“As long as I draw a breath, Isa, I will want this with you.”  He brushed his lips across her parted ones.

Tears welled in her eyes.

“No, no, baby, don’t do that.”  He swiped the moisture away with his thumbs.  “Smile for me.” He moved against her.

Her eyes widened and her lips curved up.

“Yeah, that’s the look I want to see.”  He thrust into her, she caught her breath, and fire flared in her eyes.  “You look like a sexy angel right now.  So pure and yet so hungry.” He nipped her bottom lip and thrust into her again.  “I want to consume every inch of you, Pink.  I want to keep you all to myself.” He thrust into her again and again, each time drawing a low, satisfied moan from her. He loved that he did that to her.  Loved that she surrendered all to him.

“I broke all my rules for you, Isa,” he rasped. “I want you to break all of yours for me.”

“My walls came crashing down the moment I laid eyes on you at the club,” she confessed.

Possessive fire burned through him.

“Flynn,” she breathed.  “I’m going to come.”

He smiled and pressed his lips to her ear.  “That’s the point, isn’t it?” He punctuated his question with a deep grinding plunge. Her velvet muscles clamped down around his pulsing cock, and as she came apart, so did he.

Kicking his shoes and jeans off, Flynn carried Pink upstairs to his bedroom.  By the time he laid her down on the bed, she was snoring softly.

He smiled at her.  One leg of her yoga pants was still hanging on her leg; the rest of her was naked.  Gently he pulled the pants from her and covered her with the sheet and tucked her in.

Long moments ticked by, but Flynn didn’t move from where he stood.  A maelstrom of emotions crashed inside his chest. If he could get away with it, he’d lock her in this house and only allow her to leave when he was with her.  He understood his obsessive fear of losing her was unhealthy.  If he allowed it to control his actions, he’d push her away.  She would come to distrust and ultimately despise him. He was like the kid with the best toy in the playground.  Everyone was going to want a turn and he wasn’t going to allow anyone to touch it for fear of it getting broken or stolen. His fear wasn’t born of jealousy.  He trusted Pink. She wasn’t the type of girl to look at other men or lead one on, once she gave her heart. Hell, he knew men would always look at her.  She was strong, and their connection so fierce he knew she would fight for it and him, too.

It was the fear of the bad guys he knew prowled the streets and lurked behind corners.  It was pieces of shit like Boris Sorlov who preyed upon women, and that dick Andre who liked to smack them around, that laid the foundation of his fear. Because for all that Pink thought she was a badass, she wasn’t.  Not even close.

Swiping his hand across his chin, Flynn chastised himself. Fear aside, she wasn’t a possession, she was a human being.  Damn it, he was falling hard for her.  That was a lie; he’d already fallen.  He was in deep emotional shit.

Shucking off his shirt, Flynn tossed it into the hamper in his bathroom, then grabbed a pair of flannel lounge pants.  Giving Pink a quick check, he headed downstairs, then to the garage, and grabbed her bag and his cell phone from the console.

Ignoring the fact that the sun would be rising in a couple of hours, Flynn checked his phone and scowled.

Messages from Maddox and Justin.

Justin’s were furious rants, calling him out for what he’d done to the Russian giant. Your inability to contain your temper has seriously jeopardized this operation.  Stand down or lose your shield.

Do what you gotta do, Barbieri, Flynn texted back.  But she’s done. Make your case without her. 

Maddox’s texts would be more of the same, but something told Flynn to read them.

Barbieri is heated and headhunting.  I’ve got your 6.  Would have done the same thing.

Flynn grunted and texted back.  Copy

Maddox immediately responded:  Did he tell you that we got a line on the missing person? And that the warrant came through?

Negative x 2

MP presumed alive and stateside.  

Details?

Will divulge on secure line. We want the UC to drop the drive tonight.

Negative 

Is that her stand as well?

Leave it alone.

The case dies w/o her 

Then bury it.  Gn

Flynn turned his cell off and as he strode back into the house, he stopped abruptly.  Pink stood at the end of the hallway in one of his white dress shirts looking sexy as hell. Halfway buttoned, he could make out the valley between her breasts; she’d rolled the French cuffs haphazardly, the tails hitting her knees. Her soft smile caught and held his heart.

“I’m hungry,” she said sheepishly.

Flynn’s stomach growled in agreement.  He hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before and that wasn’t much.  Having worked himself into a frenzy, he’d lost his appetite for everything except the woman standing before him.

Setting the bag down on the floor and his phone on the hall table, Flynn smiled and walked toward her.  He gathered her into his arms, reveling in her soft bubble gum scent.  “Me too.”

She pressed her lips to his chest.  “Hmm, I could snack on you first.”

His dick swelled. Giggling, Pink pressed her hips into him.  “You’re a walking hard-on.”


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