Hunted (20 page)

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Authors: Kaylea Cross

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Military, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Hostage Rescue Team Series

BOOK: Hunted
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She gave him an enigmatic smile that made him crave to get inside her head, unlock her deepest, darkest desires. “You’re making me do things to you. Very hot, delicious and naughty things. I’m on my knees. Naked. While you wear that outfit.” She gave a mock shiver. “You know, suit porn.”

No, he didn’t know, but it sounded fucking hot and it was making him hard all over again. “Suit porn.”

“Mmhmm,” she murmured. “You like?”

Was that some kind of trick question? “Yeah.” Hell, he’d better quit thinking about getting her naked and get his ass to the meeting. He cupped the side of her face. “You can tell me more about that fantasy later.” And all the others, too. He couldn’t wait to find out what that dirty little mind had come up with about the two of them.

She smiled against his mouth and kissed him. “You coming back after?”

“As soon as I can. But I’ll probably have Tuck and another couple guys in tow.” Dammit. He wanted to explore her body again, watch her eyes dilate as he made her come a dozen different ways.

“That’s okay. They can’t stay forever, and I can be really quiet, especially with you there to muffle any sounds I make.”

Christ, this better be a really fucking important and enlightening meeting. He straightened, dropped his hand and grabbed his tie. “Don’t forget what Tuck said earlier,” he said, heading for the stairs. She followed. “Set the alarm once I leave, and don’t leave the house just in case. I shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”
I hope.
“I’ll have my phone with me so if anything comes up, shoot me a text.”

“Okay, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Taking him by surprise, she cradled his face in her hands and leaned up to press a sweet, soft kiss on his mouth. “See you soon.”

He nodded, couldn’t help but take another taste of those tempting lips. “You can count on it, raven.”

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

Carlos nearly dropped his drink when Zoe’s lover suddenly appeared on the sidewalk in front of her building. Ducking his head, he pretended to be interested in the cold dregs of his coffee while watching the man out of the corner of his eye.

The big bastard paused to look around, up and down the street. His gaze landed on Carlos and held, as if he somehow instinctively sensed that he might be a threat.

Every muscle in his body went rigid, the paper cup crinkling under the pressure of his hand. His pulse thudded in his ears, more perspiration breaking out across his skin. The cotton T-shirt was sticking to his back and chest and the band of his ball cap was soaked with sweat. Carlos didn’t want to have to engage this guy out in the open in broad daylight, but if that’s what it took to get to Zoe, he’d do it.

He was getting Leticia back
today
.

Excitement bubbled in his gut. He was juiced, ready to act, his free hand resting behind his back against the wall, the pose casual but it also put his hand mere inches from the weapon tucked into his waistband. Part of him hoped the man would walk toward him and make a move.

Whatever it takes. Zoe’s the key.

The man stood there for what felt like an eternity before looking the other way. Apparently satisfied everything was as it should be, he began walking away from Carlos to the end of the street and soon disappeared from view around the corner.

Carlos released a slow breath of relief but didn’t dare move for long minutes in case the guy came back to double check. He waited another tortuous few minutes, every so often checking to his three and nine o’clock to ensure the man hadn’t doubled back around the block to sneak up on him.

But he didn’t come back, and Carlos didn’t dare linger here any longer. He’d stayed in this location for too long already, and who the hell knew how many CCTVs or security cameras had already captured his image in the Quarter today, no matter how careful he’d been to keep his face averted.

This is it.

Heart pounding, Carlos pulled out his phone and texted his accomplice. A low-level gang member who owed him a few favors and was driving the getaway car for this initial stage of his plan.
Going in.
Pull up now and wait for me.
Because this wasn’t going to take long.

The
OK
reply came a second later.

Pushing away from the wall, a rush of excitement flooded his veins as he headed for Zoe’s building, his boots making quiet thudding sounds on the cracked sidewalk. Blood roared in his ears, his heart pounding an erratic rhythm against his ribs as he broke into a jog.

He barely felt the backpack bumping against his spine. All his senses were suddenly sharpened, the way they always were during an op. He was pure instinct and training now. The sound of his breathing was rough and ragged, his vision narrowed on the opening to Zoe’s building, mere yards ahead in the red brick wall.

Two people turned the corner at the far end of the street and started up the sidewalk toward him. A man and a woman, in their sixties. No threat to him.

They froze and stepped back in alarm when they saw him coming, the apprehension on their faces no doubt due to the fierce look on his own. He didn’t care. Couldn’t give a shit about who was watching him or who had seen him now. Mentally he was already past the point of no return. He was dragging Zoe out of this building, one way or another.

Carlos rushed past the startled couple without bothering to see if they’d follow, picking up speed as the adrenaline rush spiked, roaring through his system. Zoe was inside, alone, unguarded and had no idea he was coming for her.

It was perfect.

The gate was closed, but they hadn’t been able to replace the lock yet. He wrenched it open with one hand and ran through the vestibule into the courtyard.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness and he stared at the dark blue door barring his way, taking everything in within a few heartbeats. Brass knob, simple lock, but there was no way she’d live here alone and not have a solid lock in place. But he was experienced with kicking in doors and he had tools if his boot didn’t do it.

She didn’t have a weapon registered to her name, he’d already checked. His only real problem now was her possibly having an alarm system. If she did and it was set right now, he was going to have less than a minute before it went off. Would still give him plenty of time. He could feel the shape of the syringe in his back pocket. The ketamine would make it easy for him to get her to the car.

You’re mine.
The hairs on his forearms stood up and his nape prickled.

Stepping back to give himself some room, he drew his weapon from his waistband and reared his right foot back, ready to smash his boot into the lock.

 

****

 

After Clay left, Zoe set the alarm to stay mode and took a quick shower to rinse off, trying not to get her hair wet. It was so thick it took forever to dry, even with a blow-dryer. She kept the water temperature on the cool side, sighing at the feel of it on her skin. Her hot, still-sensitive skin that tingled even now from the memory of Clay’s hands and mouth.

A satisfied smile curved her mouth. She’d known they’d be off the charts together in bed, but my god, the way the man took control and gave so much pleasure was better than her hottest fantasy of him. Suit porn notwithstanding.

Less than five minutes later she was toweled off and dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a comfortable top, her usual work attire. It had been two days since she’d written any new words in her latest manuscript, and after the amazing sex she’d just had, she was feeling energized and inspired to do some word count damage. She didn’t mind being told not to leave her house because she loved being here anyway, the alarm made her feel secure and she enjoyed spending time on her own.

On her way through the living room she picked up her laptop from the coffee table, where Clay must have placed it last night after carrying her to bed. She grinned to herself at the memory of all those muscles flexing against her as he moved, already looking forward to what would happen when they were alone next. He’d been more than generous this morning, with a knee-melting combination of authority and tenderness she had no experience with or defense against. Zoe couldn’t wait for more. But next time, she wanted to focus on pleasuring him.

And stupid though it might be, she sincerely hoped there would be more for them than just a weekend of great sex, because she was seriously falling for him. For a few moments there she’d felt him open up to her emotionally, had felt that gut-deep connection between them as he seated himself fully inside her and stared down into her eyes.

It was a huge step for him, letting her in that far, and she wondered whether he’d recognized it for what it was. She knew he’d felt it; the question was whether or not he was ready to face it and be honest with himself about it.

Out on the balcony, ensconced on the daybed with her Sleepy Hollow pillow behind her back, she opened her laptop, accessed the file she needed and scrolled to where she’d left off. An intense scene where the heroine was fighting for her life against a sadistic serial killer.

All her heroines were strong and smart—if there was one thing she couldn’t stand in romance, it was wimpy heroines—and this one was currently hunting around the old mansion’s living room for a weapon to use against her would-be assailant. Heavy brass candlesticks and an antique paperweight she could bash in his skull with.

Zoe could see the scene in her mind, as vivid as any movie on a big screen. Her heroine scrambling for a place to hide, grabbing the paperweight and flinging it with all her might, a sickening, bone-cracking thud as it slammed into the side of his head. The words came easily today, and she credited the renewed creative energy to all the endorphins still rushing through her bloodstream.

Getting into the zone wasn’t always easy for her, but she was there now and lost track of everything but the words she typed onto the screen, totally immersed in the world she’d created. She jumped when a loud bang suddenly came from downstairs, freezing her in place.

A second later came another one, as though someone was slamming something into her door.

She shoved the laptop aside, rose and stepped through the sliding glass door, every sense on alert. Clay had only left a few minutes ago and there was no way he’d be banging on her door like that—

The sound of the door smashing into the wall downstairs sent her heart rocketing into her throat. Her entire body flashed hot, then cold.

There was no time to grab her phone from her purse on the other side of the room. She turned and raced for her bedroom, terror knifing through her, making her knees weak.

Flinging the door shut she twisted the lock home, then dove for her nightstand and accessed the gun safe in the bottom of it. She always left it in there, had never taken it out except when Tuck dragged her to the gun range with him.

Heavy footsteps raced up the stairs. Her heart pounded sickeningly.
Hurry, hurry…

“Zoe,” a male voice shouted.


Shit
,” she whispered, her hands shaking as she turned the combination dial. Right to the first number. Left to the next.

“Zoe!” A roar this time, the rage and menace in that voice sending panic streaking through her.

Third number. Why the fuck were there so many numbers in this damn combo?

Finally she got it unlocked and yanked out the gun. As an added safety precaution she never left it loaded. She slammed the magazine into the bottom of the grip just as her alarm system went off. The electronic shriek sent chills snaking down her spine as she fumbled with the switch to turn the safety off.

Something smashed against her bedroom door and it flew open, slamming into the wall. Zoe caught a blur of movement as she turned on one knee and raised the pistol—

A brutal hand grabbed her wrist, twisting it viciously as he wrenched her arm up and out. Zoe screamed in rage and terror as the gun fell to the floor. She made a desperate grab for it with her free hand but the man flattened her on the floor with his weight.

Enraged, terrified, she bared her teeth and shoved with all her might. He seized the hand she was going for his eyes with and dragged it over her head with the other.

No!
Instinct took over.

She lashed out with her knees, her head, tried to sink her teeth into his arm but he avoided her every move with an ease that scared her even more. It was obvious he had more training than the average street thug.

Bucking and twisting, she finally looked up into his face. It was almost worse that he wasn’t ugly. He was younger than her, maybe in his late twenties, light bronze skin, dark eyes. Strong, lean build, the ropey muscles in his arms corded as he held her despite every effort to break his hold. He stared down at her with blatant rage that chilled her to the core.

Before she could move he leaned in until their noses almost touched, the fury and leashed violence in him making her tremble. He would kill her. She saw it in his eyes.

“Where
is
she?” he snarled, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. The tendons in his neck stood out in sharp relief, his breathing harsh and unsteady.

Zoe was too far gone with fear and shock to even contemplate faking like she didn’t know who he was talking about. “Get off me, motherfucker!” she screamed, managed to sink her teeth into his forearm. He hissed, transferred both her wrists into one hand and slammed her head into the floor hard enough to make her see stars.

“Where. Is. She!” He bit out each word, his anger palpable.

Zoe refused to give in. She thrashed in his hold, tried to ram her head into his face but he whipped aside just in time and cracked his open palm against the side of her face. The force of it snapped her head around. She gasped, cringing as pain flared out across her cheek, her jaw.

He gave her a rough shake. “
Where is she
?” he shouted into her face.

“Go to hell,” she shot back, watering eyes closed, unable to summon the guts to look him in the eye when she said it.

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