Navy SEAL to Die For (5 page)

She squared her shoulders and tried to stand as tall as she could. Sawyer was a good foot taller than she was. By walking separately from Quentin, she hoped that from a distance, if anyone was watching, they wouldn’t notice the height disparity. She sauntered for the SUV, pulling herself up into the passenger seat, sitting on a foot to appear as tall as Quentin, who sat in the driver’s seat.

No sooner had Becca closed her door, Quentin had the SUV in gear, backing out of the parking lot, pulling between the remaining police cars. Once out on the road, he turned to the right and blended in with the traffic.

Becca glanced over her shoulder and checked in the side mirror, watching to see if they were being followed. After Quentin made several turns and no headlights stayed behind them, Becca relaxed. “I need to find a convenience store or truck stop selling disposable phones.”

Quentin nodded without saying a word. He drove out to a highway intersection where a well-lit truck stop was located. He parked between two semi-tractor trailer rigs, turned off the engine and climbed out.

Becca got out and followed him into the store. She selected a disposable phone, flip-flops and a T-shirt with a big fish on the front and the words
Gone Fishin’
written beneath it.

Quentin found a straw cowboy hat and a fisherman’s hat and added them to the pile on the counter along with beef jerky, trail mix and a couple of water bottles. “Anything else?”

She’d give anything to buy panties and a bra, but the truck stop catered to men, not women who’d been shot down, shot at and almost eaten alive by alligators.

Her body ached with exhaustion, and yet she couldn’t let her guard down. Not yet. As soon as they were back in the SUV, she pulled the cell phone out of the packaging, turned it on and dialed Royce’s number, let it ring once then hung up. She did it again, letting it ring only once before she ended the call, and then she waited.

Quentin glanced across the console at her.

She didn’t say anything, figuring the less she spoke with him, the less likely she would miss him when she left him behind to head back to DC.

The phone in her hand buzzed, vibrating between her fingers. She pressed the talk button, recognizing the number as Royce’s private line.

“Hey, it’s me,” she said.

“I take it things aren’t getting better?” her boss said.

“Not by a long shot.”

“Are you all right?”

“If you mean am I alive and kicking, then yes, I’m all right, but the recliner in Loverboy’s apartment has seen the end of its days.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Royce chuckled. “Loverboy? Is that a nickname or does the man have mad skills?”

Becca snorted. “It’s in his dreams. When will you be here?”

“Flying into Stillwell at eight in the morning. I have what you need.”

“Good.” She shoved a hand through her hair and stared across at Quentin. “I’m ready to move on.”

Her bodyguard frowned.

“See you tomorrow,” Royce said. “Stay safe.”

“Don’t you want to know where to find me?” she asked.

“I’ll find you.” Royce ended the call.

“That was short,” Quentin commented.

“My boss doesn’t waste words.” She glanced out the window.

Quentin pulled into a really old motel that had seen better days forty years before.

Becca stared at the exterior with its half-lit neon sign, peeling paint and sagging eaves. “Why are we stopping here?”

“This is where we’re sleeping tonight.” He parked at the end of the line of tiny rooms and shut off the engine. “It might not be pretty, but I doubt your followers will look for us here.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll grant you that. But what about the local riff-raff? Not to mention the roaches and bedbugs bound to be in a place like this.”

A long low Cadillac parked on the other side of the driveway. An older, rather rotund man climbed out of the driver’s seat and rounded to the other side. He opened the door for a woman, less than half his age, wearing clothing that barely covered her breasts and butt.

Becca shot a glance toward Quentin. “I bet they rent rooms by the hour.”

“And I’ll lay odds they’ll take cash and not ask questions. No credit cards and no need to show any ID.”

He had a point. Becca didn’t like it, but his observations were valid. Credit cards could be traced. Most of the nicer hotels required a credit card to secure lodging for the night.

“I’ll get a room. Stay low until I get back.” Before Becca could protest, Quentin had slipped out of the SUV and turned to face her. “Catch.”

“Catch wh—” Becca held up her hands to keep from being hit in the face with the SUV keys.

“If anything happens, get the hell out of here.”

“What about you?”

His lips tipped upward. “I can take care of myself.”

Becca frowned. “So can I.”

He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. “Do you argue about everything?”

Her lips quirked. “For the most part.”

Quentin shook his head, pushed the lock button and strode back to the registration desk.

Becca debated making a run for it, leaving behind her assigned bodyguard. To use his own words, she could take care of herself. With her hand on the door handle, she paused. It was sort of nice to have someone watching her back. Normally, she worked alone. And it would only be for the night. She glanced at the sketchy couple making their way into one of the rooms. So, it was a dive. She needed sleep for the journey ahead.

By the time she’d talked herself into staying, Quentin was striding toward her. Becca’s pulse raced and butterflies fluttered in her belly. From what she could see, he only carried one key, which meant one room...one bed.

Chapter Five

Quentin had paid for the room with cash, opting for a full night, not by the hour. He asked twice if the sheets were clean and the beds free of bugs. The clerk with the gauge earrings and multiple tattoos, smelling of marijuana and body odor, didn’t make Quentin too confident in his answers. But he was assured the maids changed the sheets daily.

He didn’t like leaving Becca alone for even the few minutes it took to pay the guy behind the counter and fill out a form, giving a fake name. Not only was he worried about her being attacked again, but he also figured she’d take off, preferring to go it alone.

At this point, Quentin couldn’t let her walk away. After multiple attacks that had nearly gotten all of them killed, he couldn’t let whoever was bent on taking out Becca finish the job. Yeah, he was getting used to her feisty attitude and damn, she could kiss.

As he reached the SUV, he climbed in.

She stared at the hand curled around the room key. “One room or two?”

“One.”

“I prefer to have my own.”

He shook his head and held out his hand. “Swap.”

She placed the SUV key in his hand and he gave her the room key.

“Where are we going?”

He pulled out of the motel parking lot, turned onto the main street and took the first right. “I’m parking in the alley behind the motel. I don’t want our friends to spot the SUV in passing.”

She nodded, rolling the room key over in her hand. “Just because we’re sleeping in the same room, doesn’t mean we’re sleeping together.”

Quentin parked behind the motel and turned off the engine. He turned to face her, his brows raised. “Just because we’re sleeping in the same room doesn’t mean I want to make love to you. I made a promise to your boss to look out for you.”

“With a nickname like Loverboy, I’d think you’d feel the need to uphold your reputation.”

“Don’t mistake the nickname with the man. I love women. So sue me. But I’ve never forced a woman to have sex with me.” He pulled the key from the ignition, climbed out of the SUV and hurried around to the other side. Becca had opened the door. He reached for her waist and helped her down from the vehicle, holding her longer than was necessary. God, he loved the way she felt in his hands. “Every one of them was willing.”

Becca’s lips twisted. “All notches on your bedpost?”

“Hardly.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “I make it clear that I’m promising nothing beyond the night.”

“Oh, so you’re allergic to commitment.” She nodded. “I see.”

Heat rose in Quentin’s chest. She made him sound heartless, when he’d been kind and gentle with the women he’d bedded. None of them had gone away disillusioned. He jammed the key into the door lock and shoved the door open.

First order of business was to clear the room. He checked the closet, the bathroom and beneath the bed. No monsters lurked behind the shower curtain or in the shadow. The sheets appeared clean, if a bit worn. A dresser, nightstand and cushioned chair were the only other furnishings in the room.

Becca entered, carrying the bags of supplies they’d purchased at the truck stop. Once inside, she closed the door and set the bags on the dresser. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”

“Not necessary,” Quentin said. “I’ll be awake most of the night. You might as well get some shut-eye.”

“I’m smaller than you. I can sleep sitting up.”

“Look, I get it that you can take care of yourself. I know you’re used to running ops on your own, but I promised—”

She raised her hand. “I know. You promised Royce you’d take care of me. Fine. I’ll sleep the first four hours. You can have the next four hours. Royce should be in town by then and your commitment to me and Royce will be fulfilled.”

“Deal.” He didn’t tell her that he had every intention of staying with her for the next four days, hoping to find the one responsible for the attempts on Becca’s life. He wouldn’t rest until he knew who had paid the mercenaries to shoot down the aircraft and come after her in his apartment. She might not want him tagging along, but damn it, they’d made it personal.

And he liked her bold attitude and dogged determination to discover the truth behind her father’s murder. In a fight she was a ferocious opponent and a fierce ally. And the more he was with her, the harder it was becoming to keep his hands to himself. Her confidence and beauty made him want to kiss her again and again. More than that, it made him want to hold her in his arms...all night long...skin to skin.

Quentin busied himself unpacking the loot from the truck stop. “Want some beef jerky?”

“No, but I’ll take a bottle of water.” Becca pulled back the bedspread, inspected the sheets and then sat on the edge of the bed, testing the firmness of the mattress. “I think you gave me the bed because you know it will be hell to sleep on.” She smiled. “You can change your mind, you know. I prefer the comfort of the chair for the night.”

“Just go to sleep,” he said, his tone a little harsher than he intended. Sitting on the bed, wearing Sawyer’s shirt and the baggy sweat pants, she shouldn’t look as desirable as she did. Quentin’s ability to resist was rapidly deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the bag and tossed it to her. “I need some air. I’ll be outside within yelling distance should you need me.” He started for the door.

Becca jumped to her feet and blocked his path. “Where are you going?”

“Just outside. I need the air.” Balling his fists, Quentin fought the urge to grab her arms and pull her body against his.

“If I’ve made you mad, I’m sorry.” She touched a hand to his chest, her gaze following her fingers. “I have a habit of alienating every guy I know by the stupid things I say. Please. Don’t go. I promise to shut up.”

“It’s not what you say...”

Her palm flattened on his chest. “No? Then why are you about to run out that door like you’re suffocating?”

“Because, if I stay...” his resistance crumbling, he reached for her arms and dragged her against him “...I’ll do this.”

Her eyes widened, and her tongue snaked out to wet her lips.

The motion and subsequent shine of moisture drew his attention to her mouth. With a groan he lowered his head. “And this,” he whispered. He claimed her lips.

Her fingers curled into his shirt and her mouth opened on a gasp.

Quentin swept in and claimed her, caressing her tongue with his. He slid his hands down he arms, across the middle of her back, pressing her closer, molding her hips to his.

Becca raised her hands to his neck, threading her fingers into his hair. She pressed closer, rubbing her breasts across his chest, sliding a leg up the back of his calf.

Past reason, he cupped the backs of her thighs and lifted.

Becca wrapped her legs around his waist and Quentin carried her to the bed. He laid her down on the mattress and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Stop me now.”

She released her hold around his neck.

For a moment Quentin thought she was going to tell him to get lost. His gut tightened and he prepared to fight the lust raging through his system.

Then she reached for the hem of his shirt, dragged it up his torso and tossed it toward the chair. “You’re not going anywhere until you finish what you started.”

“I’m no quitter,” he said, bending to press a kiss to the pulse beating wildly at the base of her throat.

Becca ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, sliding into the waistband of his jeans.

Quentin fumbled with his belt and buttons, ripping them open. With Becca’s help, he was out of his jeans and shoes in seconds. Then he worked on getting her naked. Off with the shirt and the baggy pants. She lay there, the light from the nightstand making her tanned skin glow.

He stood beside the bed for a moment, drinking her in with his gaze. “You’re beautiful for a special agent.”

“Uh. Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. For a SEAL.” She took his hand and tugged. “Enough foreplay.”

He dropped to the bed beside her and slid his hand over her arm and across her hip. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

“You should know, having sampled so many.” She kissed his lips, cupped his cheeks and kissed them again. “Show me what you learned.”

He obliged, taking his time to fully appreciate the full lushness of her mouth, the taste of her tongue and the long, slim line of her neck. When he reached the mounds of her breasts, he rolled first one, then the other, nipple between his teeth, flicking the tips until they tightened into tasty beads.

She arched her back, pressing her nipple deeper into his mouth, a moan rising up her throat.

Her pure abandon made his groin tighten and his shaft harden to stone. He wanted to take her then, but he knew it might be the only time he would have with this woman. Vowing to savor every moment, he worked his way down her torso, dipping into her belly button and tonguing a path to the soft mound over her sex.

She threaded her hands into his hair, her fingers digging gently into his scalp. “Seriously,” she said, her voice smooth gravel and sexy as hell. “Didn’t any of those women tell you foreplay is overrated?”

He chuckled, blowing a warm stream of air over her heated center. “Are you sure about that?” Then he parted her folds and flicked that nubbin of desire with the tip of his tongue.

Becca drew up her knees, planted her heels into the mattress and raised her hips to his mouth. “Okay, you win. You were right. Holy hell, I’m going to come apart.”

He tongued her again, sucking her flesh between his teeth and nibbling gently.

A moan started low in her chest and rose up her throat, filling the small room with the sound. “Oh, yes. You did learn something.”

While he swept his tongue across that highly sensitive bundle of nerves, he touched a finger to her entrance. She was wet, ready for him and he was ready to take her. But she wasn’t quite there. He focused all of his attention on that one little strip of flesh, flicking, licking and teasing her until she rose up from the mattress, her breath caught and her fingers flexed in his hair.

Her body trembled with the intensity of her release. When she dropped back to the mattress, she sucked in a long, steadying breath and said, “For the love of Mike, come up here already.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled.

“Hey, that hurts,” he said, though he didn’t care. He was on his way to where he wanted to go.

“I’ll hurt more than your scalp if you make me wait a second longer.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He climbed up her body and settled between her legs, the tip of his shaft nudging her entrance. “Just so you know...”

“I know. You’re not into commitment. I get it. Neither am I. So tomorrow, neither one of us will have regrets.”

He kissed her and pushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“It wasn’t?” She stared up at him, one of her legs wrapping around him, urging him to consummate their lovemaking.

“No. I was going to say, you know, I have protection in my wallet.” He grinned. “The commitment thing is all on you.” He winked, reached over the side of the bed for his jeans and unearthed his wallet from the back pocket.

He didn’t let her know that her comment had struck a little closer to home than he’d thought it would. Yeah, he’d told every other woman he wasn’t into commitment. But to have Becca beat him to it, well, it gave him a twinge of something like regret.

Pushing the feeling aside, he concentrated on the woman lying beneath him and the way his body reacted to hers. He found the packet buried in his wallet.

Becca grabbed it from his hand, tore it open and rolled it over his erection before he could protest. “Please, don’t make me wait any longer,” she begged.

“Wait? I thought you were enjoying the ride?”

“I’ll enjoy it even better if you would focus on the goal.” She wrapped her hands around his buttocks and pulled him toward her.

Quentin slid into her tight channel, moving slowly, enjoying the way her muscles convulsed around him.

Becca wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into him, forcing him deeper until he filled her completely. “There,” she said and sighed.

He let her adjust to his girth, then he pulled out almost all the way and pressed in again. With her hands on his hips, he settled into a rhythm, pumping in and out, the speed increasing with every thrust until the bed shook and he lost himself in her.

Becca dropped her feet to the mattress and rose to meet him. Harder, faster, he moved within her, his insides clenching as he rose up to the peak and rocketed over the edge. He slammed into her one last time, buried himself deep inside her and rode the wave of desire all the way home.

As he eased back to earth, he lay down on her and rolled to the side, taking her with him to retain their connection.

Becca stared into his eyes and cupped his cheek. “Okay. I get it now.”

“Get what?” he asked, kissing the tip of her nose and then her lips.

“Why they call you Loverboy.”

“It’s a play on my last name.”

“The hell it is.” She snuggled close, resting her hand on his chest. “It’s one hundred percent your technique.”

He laughed out loud, kissing her soundly on the mouth. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, get some sleep. I’ll pull first watch.”

“I need it after that workout.” She yawned and settled against him, her fingers light against his skin. “Wake me in a couple hours for second watch.”

Oh, he’d wake her all right and he’d be counting the minutes until he did.

* * *

B
ECCA
MUST
HAVE
fallen right to sleep. She didn’t wake until sunshine peeked through the thick curtains, slicing across her eye. She reached out for the man in the bed beside her only to find the pillow empty and Quentin gone. She sat up straight and looked around the room, lit only by the light able to find its way around the curtain.

“Quentin?”

The bathroom door opened and Quentin stepped out, a towel wrapped around his middle, his hair damp. “Hey, sleepyhead. Decide to wake up, finally?”

“You were supposed to wake me for the second shift.” She yawned and stretched, the sheet falling down to her waist.