Swallow (Kindred Book 2) (25 page)

“Taste good?” he asked. She managed to nod while desperately trying to tempt his mouth again. The heat between them was humid and thick, their mouths were so close, his reluctance was a tease and she whimpered. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, it tastes good.”

Any reminder of her arousal was torture, she wanted fulfillment, wanted him to satisfy her, yet he was taking his sweet time. “You want to worship me,” he growled against her mouth. “You’ve got to pay your dues.”

Anything he asked of her, he’d get. He’d tormented her body enough that her sense was dulled and she was high on the chemicals their physical connection drenched her in. The weight of his arm relieved its pressure and the ache in her limbs foretold of bruising, but she could only focus on breathing. He kissed her chin, her throat, and sucked each breast, but didn’t slow his journey. Dipping his tongue into her belly button, he dragged it down her abdomen, through the line of hair that signaled his approach to her core.

Licking her clit, he tongued her labia aside to suck the moisture from inside her and the sting made her snatch for his head. She was close, too close for him to be playing foreplay games, but the heat of his amused breath came when he released the pressure. He knew exactly what he was doing. Pushing into her clit with the tip of his tongue, he flickered over it and raised his hands to her breasts.

The pinch on her nipples was like a switch connected to orgasm and she reared up into his mouth with a yelp. Her body hadn’t relaxed again and her eyes were closed in the spasm that still racked her body. But his mouth was gone from her center. He grabbed ahold of her hips and spread her legs wide with his own, then pushed the head of his dick into the well of juices eager for him.

She was almost sobbing as he pumped in and out of her because she was still in the grips of the crest of climax and his frenzied motion took her over again. She couldn’t think or breathe, all she could do was feel the girth of his cock stretching and sating her.

It forged in deep, bleeding moisture from inside of her to hasten her love’s journey to his own peak of pleasure and when it came, she didn’t try to quiet him or restrain herself. She screamed out his name and swore in time with him because he’d just proved his worship of her body and in this minute that was all she needed from him.

Once they were finished pleasing each other’s bodies, Brodie went out to get supplies and to find Tuck, giving her the chance to call Grant. She had a feeling that Brodie left her alone because he’d known she would want to be to make the call. She did feel more comfortable making this call without an audience, and it had been on the tip of her tongue to say she was going out for a walk to talk to Grant when Brodie said he was leaving. He didn’t say that he didn’t want her out this late alone and distracted by a phone, but she got the message and didn’t argue.

It was late, but she didn’t mind risking a call to Grant on his cell phone and as it turned out, he answered on the second ring.

“Zara?”

“Hello, Grant,” she said, noticing how eager he sounded. “I’m sorry for the late hour.”

“No, I was about to call you,” he said. “I spoke to Albert and arranged a meeting. He wants to see both of us.”

Ideas rushed through her, had Ben told Sutcliffe about their meeting already? Was Grant the one trying to get her inside with Sutcliffe? Or was Sutcliffe using her faux receptiveness as a trap?

“Both of us?” she asked. “But why—“

Grant was excited about this, it was in his voice, and it helped her to understand why the Kindred didn’t want him in their ranks. Once he made up his mind, he had obstinate blinders on. It didn’t matter to him that Sutcliffe was going to kill people, Grant wanted to be at the cool kids table and he saw Albert Sutcliffe as the man.

“He’s in London this week,” Grant said. “He wants to meet on Friday night when he gets back into the country. I need you to be there.”

Grant needed her to be there? Or had Sutcliffe requested an audience with her? “Ok,” she said, fixating on the door with hopes that Brodie would come back. As it turned out, she needed an audience after all.

Grant didn’t notice her hesitation, which was good, but her suspicion plagued her. “We’re going to meet at the Grand. In the conference room, in private.”

“I can be there,” she said. “I’m out of town. I was going to ask if I could take a few personal days. The calendar this week is light and most of the meetings—“

His excitement morphed to anger in an instant. “Are you with him?” Grant demanded. “Zara, I—“

Squeezing her eyes closed, she sat on the bottom corner of the bed. “No,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. She was alone in this motel room. Though the scent of her lover and their joining still permeated the room. But Brodie’s essence didn’t count as a real presence, no matter how it affected the ambiance and her hormones.

“I saw Ben last night. I’m doing what you asked… I’m thinking about it.”

A few moments of silence made her hold her breath. “Zara,” he said and the tone in his voice was one of pride and gratitude. “Of course, take all the time you need. Talk to Ben. Maybe visit the compound and come back in time for the meeting with Sutcliffe. You can deliver the devices to us as a show of compliance… Albert will be pleased.”

“I’m not making any promises,” she said, because she didn’t know how this meeting would affect Kindred plans, and also because jumping on board with too much haste might appear suspicious.

“Yes, sure, ok,” Grant said, but his pace had increased and it was obvious he was jumping to the best case scenario. “Yes, take time to think. Thank you, Zara. Thank you for giving this real consideration.”

He signed off, and she was still sitting on the bottom corner of the bed looking at her phone when there was a knock at the motel room door. Crossing to check who was on the other side, she disarmed the makeshift warning system and opened the door to let the men in, while staying behind it. Tuck and Brodie came in and while they were setting up the security again, she went back to her perch on the bottom corner of the bed and considered what Grant had said.

“Did you talk to him?” Tuck asked. She nodded, before tossing the phone toward the pillow.

She took a deep breath. “He’s spoken to Sutcliffe and confirmed that he’s in London. Sutcliffe wants to meet in the Grand.”

“Meet you?” Brodie asked, coming over to sit on the bed opposite her.

Tuck sauntered closer too and rested on the table to fold his arms. “That could be risky.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, having had the time to ponder Grant’s enthusiasm, she’d decided it wasn’t a bad thing. If he was ruled by emotions, then he wouldn’t look too closely at her motivation for so suddenly switching loyalties. “He wants to meet Grant and me. Grant wants me to bring Game Time to prove my sincerity.”

“When?” Brodie asked.

“Saturday,” she said, watching the men make eye contact.

“That’s enough time,” Tuck said, reassuring them both before pushing away from his seat to round the table and sit at a laptop. He spent a lot of time on computers, he seemed to prefer them to people.

Brodie continued the interview while Tuck typed. “What else did he say?” he asked.

“I told him I had met with Ben. He encouraged me to meet up with him and to go to the compound.”

“That’s good news,” Tuck said, glancing over the top of his laptop. “We want you in there. Now you can use Grant’s suggestion.”

Tuck was happy with the news, but Brodie wasn’t looking at her, he was fixated on the floor and his frown worried her. “What is it?” she asked when he didn’t say anything for a while. “Grant was thrilled. He was flattered that I took his advice. He wants me to consider what Sutcliffe is doing.”

He made eye contact. “How thrilled?” Brodie asked.

She wasn’t used to putting a measure on someone’s mood and there was no gauge that might help her. “Eight out of ten,” she said, hazarding a guess with a loose shrug.

The answer seemed to intrigue Brodie more. “That you were meeting with Ben? Did he ask what you talked about or how you felt about the guy?”

“No,” she said. Brodie’s questions deepened her concerns. “What are you thinking, beau?”

She counted three breaths before he answered. “I don’t know,” he muttered and got up to go to the sofa in the corner. While he was putting his thoughts into order, she gave him some space.

“I’ll make some coffee,” she said. Tuck was still working and Brodie was thinking. They should all get some sleep if they wanted to be fresh in the morning. But she was beginning to realize that most Kindred work took place at night, so she would have to get used to burning the candle at both ends.

She made the coffee and took her time to read what information the Kindred had compiled on Sutcliffe’s group and the folio was concerning. Most of what the Kindred had observed led to the conclusion that Sutcliffe was building an army, just as Grant had said, and a well-equipped one at that. It proved that she’d been right about her visit to the compound. Sutcliffe had set up the wonderful appearance of idyllic living that was only half the story.

Pictures of men with guns at the gates, hiding in bushes, and strolling around the perimeter showed them in army fatigues and heavy boots. These men were strong and trained, she could tell that just by how they stood and the resolute expressions on their faces.

She was sitting on the bed with her legs stretched out in front of her. Stifling another yawn, she went back to the beginning of the stack of glossy photos, deciding to go through them again.

“You’ve been sitting there staring into your coffee for half an hour,” Tuck said. She looked up to see that he was twisted in his seat, craning around to observe Brodie who was still sitting in the corner on the couch. “Are you gonna share with the group?”

Brodie put his cup aside and rubbed his hands on the front of his thighs before he took a long breath, sat back, and linked his hands at the back of his head. “Don’t you think it’s strange that Sutcliffe and Saint are so eager to have Zara back?” he said. She put the photographs on the bed beside her to cross her legs and listen as Brodie continued. “She screwed them over, right? As far as they’re concerned, she was the one who orchestrated the double cross in Atlas. If it wasn’t for her, Sutcliffe’s men wouldn’t be dead, he wouldn’t have broken his leg, and he would have the device he needs to execute his grand plan.”

Worry joined her understanding that he was right and she wondered if he knew he was freaking her out. “I can hear you,” Zara said, linking her fingers together. Her lover didn’t acknowledge her. When Tuck glanced around at her, his serious face made her sit straighter. “Wait, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that this is all wrong,” Brodie said. “We’re used to having Art thinking about the background, about the motivations and how our enemies end up doing what they do.”

His lesson of life without Art had been harsh. But he’d learned it when Caine jumped him outside the CI building. Art had been his safety net, thinking about the things that Brodie didn’t have to. Now Brodie was learning that his safety net was gone and he had to come to these conclusions alone.

Vaulting onto his feet, Brodie was more ready for action than slumber. “We’re being played.”

With a sideways nod at Tuck, Brodie began to stride toward the door. After a few quick swipes at his keyboard, Tuck was up and moving into Brodie’s wake. She leaped off the bed.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, making the men stop less than three feet from the exit. “You can’t say something like that and then leave. What does that mean? We’re ‘being played’, are we in danger?”

Her love and their colleague weren’t concerned, but panic was making her shiver. “You’re Kindred, you’re always in danger,” Brodie said.

If she hadn’t been so perplexed, she might have been encouraged by her lover’s return to cryptic. When they first met everything he said and did was of the cryptic variety. But whatever conclusion he’d reached while sitting on the couch pondering, it meant something had to be done by him and Tuck. She was being excluded.

“Where are you going?” she asked, scared that they could be off to do something dangerous. “When will you be back? What can I do?”

“You’re gonna lie down and go to sleep,” he said, moving towards her.

Such a mundane suggestion took her aback. “I can’t do that.” His fire was extinguished and calm took its place. She envied his confidence. The closer he got, the more his eyes softened. When he seized the back of her neck, he touched her face, and some of his peace seeped into her.

“I’m done being angry about losing him,” Brodie said. Art. He was finally confessing the truth of his grief. “All that’s got me so far is a battered girlfriend and a bruised ego. He’d kick my ass if he knew how long I’d spent feeling sorry for myself. The Kindred comes first. What’s priority one?”

“We look out for each other,” she murmured, fixated on his certainty.

“That’s right, and you’ve proved your commitment to us by keeping everything together while I was busy boozing. It’s not gonna happen again. The Kindred Chief doesn’t get the luxury of downtime. I’ve had my head up my ass for too long. It should never have gotten this fucking far. But it has, so I need to get us out of it.”

She couldn’t see Tuck because Brodie’s body blocked her view, but she could feel his smile and his relief, because it had to be as tangible as hers. As tempting as it was to make a joke about never sleeping with her boss, she thought the better of it because her other boss was Brodie’s brother.

If he was excluding her, he had his reasons. She had to prove her confidence in him. “I trust you to come home safe,” she said. “But is there anything I should know?”

“This is a game and I’ve finally figured it out.”

“Will you clue the rest of us in?” she asked.

“I’ll clue Swift in,” Brodie said. It seemed unfair that the hacker was let in on the secret while she was kept in the dark. But Brodie would have his reasons, and they wouldn’t have anything to do with a lack of trust. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“I know that,” she said with a smile as he’d just read her mind. “Worrying about you has become something of a habit.”

Every day for more than three months, her life had been dedicated to making sure Brodie had everything he needed. Her concern for his well-being was engrained, and she wouldn’t want it any other way. Having him as such a dominant part of her thoughts empowered her and it lightened her other woes because Brodie was a monolith and she finally had him back.

“I want you to get your beauty sleep,” he said, wrapping his fingers around the section of her hair in front of her shoulder. “Because I need you thinking tomorrow. You’re gonna make that Ben bastard fall for you so hard you’ll have him begging for table scraps.”

He didn’t lose his confidence, in fact Brodie smiled. Zara forgot to breathe for a second and glanced around to check she was still in the right reality. “You want me to—“

“Just show him those big browns that get me hard, baby, flutter those sexy lashes… He won’t be getting his hands on you. Right now, I gotta go.”

Kissing her quick, he spun to head for the exit Tuck had prepared for them. “But,” she stuttered, taking an aimless step. “What—“

Brodie stopped in the doorway to look at her once more. “Sutcliffe has an army and to fight them, we’ll need one of our own,” he said and went out into the night, closing the door on his statement.

Brodie had purpose and seeing him invigorated was encouraging, yet he’d told her to sleep. Excitement made it difficult for her to relax and it was frustrating to know only half the plan. Somehow, that unknown paled against the realization that Brodie was back with her. Raven was back at his peak. Sutcliffe wasn’t going to know what had hit him.