Texas Stand-Off: The Omega Team Novella (Kindle Worlds Novella) (9 page)

“Thank you,” she murmured. Taz didn’t know what was better–the orgasm or that he was holding her like she mattered. She prided herself on never feeling weak or needy, yet this man gave her both of those feelings in a way that made her desperately glad she was a woman. “Now, can we get to the good stuff?”

Her feisty little remark floored him, Deacon threw back his head and laughed uproariously. Damn, she was fun. “You didn’t enjoy that?”

“Oh, yes, very much,” she assured him. Framing his face, she kissed him right on the mouth. “But there’s part of me that feels empty and achy. You can make it better.”

“I think I’m up for that…”

“Come here.” She pulled him close, draping her left leg over his right thigh, lifting up to rub against him–pussy against cock, breasts nestled against his chest. She felt her nipples peak as they tangled in his chest hair. “Now, do me. Did I get that right?”

Deacon was kissing her neck and she could feel his smile against her skin. “Oh yea, the most accurately constructed phrase I’ve ever heard.” He slid his hand between them and guided his cock right where it belonged, snuggled into the warm well of her vagina. “Look at me,” he whispered when he noticed her eyes were closed.

Coming out of a cloud of euphoria, Taz followed his direction. “It feels so good,” she murmured, relishing how it felt to be so intimately connected to the man she desired above all things. Needing for him to feel the same way, she tightened herself around him. “Oh, God,” that felt even better.

“Fuck, Taz!” he moaned, his eyes crossing with the pleasure.

“Yes, I agree, fuck Taz!” She gave him a second helping, clenching her vagina on his cock.” Lifting herself up against him, she took him as deep as she could.

“Yes, ma’am.” Placing a hand on her hip, he steadied her. “Easy baby, I don’t have the best balance in the world.”

“Hold on to me. I’ll be your anchor.”

He held on–one hand on her hip, the other resting near her head, fingers tangled in her hair, his lips covering hers. His tongue thrust into her mouth to the same rhythm his cock pistoned into her pussy. She accepted everything he needed to give, her fingers massaging his neck, the nails of her other hand skating along the skin of his back. Over and over again, he buried himself deep, knowing her passion was winding tighter and tighter. When she went stiff–frozen–Deacon raised up just to see the wonder on her face.

“Deacon!” 

Some moments are worthy to be pressed between the pages of your mind. He stilled–not wanting to miss a thing as she came around him. He absorbed every ripple, every quiver, every sweet contraction. If things were different…if the future could be salvaged from the ashes of the past–he’d never let her go. The elation of her orgasm sparked his and he felt the inevitable begin. His balls pulled up tight, an irresistible tingling erupted at the base of his spine. Blindly, feverishly, he pumped inside of her until, with a hoarse cry, he exploded. Breath heaving, cock jerking, his essence jetted deep within her–making them one.

*  *  *

Deacon drew the covers up over them. She was sound asleep, cuddling up to him like a kitten. He ran his hand down her side, reassessing his life. What she’d proven to him tonight blew everything he’d believed to be true right out of the water. This amazing woman had barged into his life and showed him that he wasn’t broken–he wasn’t half a man–he was as whole and worthy as anyone else. Deacon didn’t know what to do with this information. He’d built walls around himself as high as the cliffs that formed the foundation of his home.

Unable to stop himself, he rubbed his lips on the top of her head. As he did, a jagged raw pain stabbed him in the heart. She was small, she was soft. She was so damn smart and courageous. And she wanted to risk herself in a job where the average life expectancy of a person was literally cut in half. If she joined the Omega Team, she’d be called upon to go to dangerous places and do risky things that would threaten her life–over and over again. He knew he’d never be able to look himself in the mirror if he was the one responsible for placing her life on the line–no fuckin’ way.

Tomorrow he would have the opportunity to ask questions, delve into the reasons why she was so intent on jeopardizing herself for causes and a country not even hers by birth. And what nearly killed him was how bad she wanted it. And he didn’t really know why. Could she ever be satisfied living a normal life? He tried to stop the thought from formulating–because once he envisioned the possibility, the image would haunt him for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t prevent the absolute rightness of picturing her ten years in the future–laying right where she was now–with him.

Sleep was a long time coming, but when it did–he dreamed impossible dreams, dreams of a man, a woman, and a little girl with auburn hair and freckles on her cheeks.

Taz burrowed down into the pillow trying to ignore the rays of the winter sun shining across her face from between the slits of the Venetian blinds. Opening one eye, she squinted, her mind sluggishly processing that she was in a bed other than her own.

Deacon!

She sat straight up in the bed. Everything they’d done came rushing back at her like a flooded river overflowing its banks. They’d had sex–wonderful, wild, amazing sex. And she’d slept in his arms, his pillow still bore the imprint of his head. Giving in to her impulse, she placed her face in the indention and inhaled. The man smelled like heaven.

Last night she’d been shocked to find out he’d been injured in the service, but even more devastated to find out he thought it could make one whit of difference in the way she saw him–or desired him. Sitting back up, Taz played with the top hem of the sheet. Deacon Jones was a wonderful man–strong, honorable, intelligent and hot as hell. If she were ever lucky to enough to have someone to love…

Chort vozmi! Did she love him? She fell backwards on the pillow with a thud. Her heart was pounding, her palms were sweating and the feelings in her chest felt too big for her body to hold. Could he allow her into his world?

This she did not know, but today was the day she’d find out.

Downstairs... Deacon paced in his office. He knew exactly what he was doing–he was hiding. He’d cooked breakfast for both of them, eggs and bacon, then left hers on a plate in the oven and squirreled his away in here to eat alone–where it was safe. Truthfully, waking up beside her felt so good he’d never wanted to leave the bed. And with that knowledge, he’d sprang up and ran out of the room faster than greased lightning. 

Periodically, he walked to the door and listened, trying to determine if Taz had come down ready to start their day. Hell! He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He’d faced the enemy–jumped on a goddamn grenade to save a friend–yet here he was cowering away in some room because a woman made him feel things he thought he never would.

But wasn’t that what he’d been doing for the last few years? Hiding? Sylvia had made him feel things he’d hadn’t ever expected. Shame. Doubt. Insecurity. And now a different woman, different in every wonderful way, was making him feel different things. Desire. Wanted. Hope.

“Deacon?”

He heard her voice. Last night when she’d first come into his room, he’d thought her voice was all in his head. But she’d been real and warm and so sexy that the thought of her had him hard as a rock. Again.

“Deacon?”

Time to face the music.

“I’m coming.” Hell yeah, he’d cum–and he made her cum too–several times.

When he found her, she was swallowing the last bite of bacon. “I hope that was for me, I ate it all.” She walked a few steps closer, hoping he’d pull her into his arms and give her a morning kiss.

“It was, I already ate. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She rinsed her dish, put it in the dishwasher and followed him back to his office.

“Have a seat.” He motioned to a chair near the window. “As you know, there are some questions I have to ask you to properly ascertain whether or not working the Omega Team would be a good fit for you…and for us.” Her big doe eyes stared straight at him, a little bloom coming to her cheeks as their eyes met and locked. Yea, they both knew the truth. They fit together like a glove. She’d been so tight, a perfect fit for him.

“I understand.”

“So, tell me if you consider yourself to be Russian or American?”

His voice was cold, it made her shiver. Taz placed her hands under her thighs to warm them. “I’m an American, I passed my citizenship test. I’m also a Russian by birth and by blood. I think every American identifies himself with the birthplace of his ancestors. Since I’ve been in the states, I have met Italian Americans, Irish Americans, African Americans, French Americans–” 

He held up his hand. “I got it.” Deacon was about to go on, but she began to speak again.

“What is your background?”

Deacon appeared surprised. “Some English, mostly German.”

“Did your father or grandfather experience suspicion because of Hitler?”

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe. But you have to admit your connection is more immediate and irregular. Your father was a KGB agent, an agency responsible for crimes against humanity.”

Taz raised her head higher. “My father served his country. I do not know everything he did as KGB and FSB, but he did protest what he thought was wrong and defected to expose the crimes he’d witnessed. He was murdered for the bravery he showed, poisoned with polonium.”

“Radiation poisoning. Yes, I remember.”

Swallowing, Taz looked to the floor. “He suffered horribly for almost a month before he died.”

“Did he leave his secrets in your care?”

“Some of them. He also worked with the CIA and wrote a couple of books detailing the atrocities committed by a regime he didn’t support.”

Deacon frowned. “If he didn’t support the regimes, why would he serve in those state security agencies?”

She studied his face. This was a completely different person from the one she’d been with the night before. He acted like nothing had happened between them. “To know your enemy well, sometimes you have to be close.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Is that why you want to be part of the Omega Team?”

Taz blanched, not from guilt but that he would even entertain the thought after what they’d shared. “I think our actions and what we lost speak for themselves.”

Deacon paused, as if considering what she’d just said, before continuing. “Why do you want to be part of the Omega Team?”

She didn’t speak immediately, knowing whatever she said could mean the difference between success and failure. “I have the skills to be a good member of the team.” She looked up to him for affirmation.

“I cannot deny the truth of that statement.”

The joy she felt upon hearing his words was short-lived. For the unspoken ‘but’ that would clarify his assertion rang out loud and clear. He wasn’t convinced her becoming a part of the Omega Team was wise. “I would do a good job. I would give it my all. The contribution I could make would be invaluable.” Her voice trailed off, and she shifted in her seat. What did she have to lose? “I also need some place to belong, to be with people who might understand me.”

Deacon tapped the end of his pen on a pad. Ah–now they were getting somewhere. “Why did your father train you? Wouldn’t it have been better to get you as far away from the type of life he’d led as possible?”

She searched for just the right way to convey their struggle. “Of course my father wanted the best life for me as possible. His desire to protect me and give me endless opportunities was why he made the decision to defect in the first place. He just underestimated how hard the Russians would lash back and how little help the place of his asylum would offer us.”

“What do you mean?” Deacon leaned forward, seeming to listen with his whole body.

“The American operative who first approached him about defecting made a lot of promises he didn’t keep. My father made it out of the country as planned, but I was captured and used to force his hand.”

“Your mother’s betrayal must have been devastating to you.”

“Yes,” she said flatly. “Her loyalties were split…and I lost.” She met his gaze straightforwardly. “When we first came to America, my father spent much time cooperating with the CIA and other agencies. He gave them proof of Russian strategies and organized crime that directly threatened US interests. In return, they promised him protection and security, both physical and financial.”

“This didn’t happen?”

She shook her head. “Not to the degree he expected. So, when it became apparent we were more or less on our own, he sought to insure I’d be self-sufficient. In his estimation, being able to protect myself was more valuable than social or domestic skills.”

“I don’t think you’re lacking in any area I can see.” The compliment escaped his lips before Deacon was aware he’d voiced it.

Taz felt warmed by his praise. “Thank you.”

“What have you done since your father was murdered? Weren’t you living in Virginia at the time?”

The realization that he knew more about her than he’d previously let on disturbed Taz. “Yes, we lived in a rented house a few miles from Quantico where my father taught classes to FBI recruits. After he was poisoned, it took him twenty-two days to die and he used that time to tell me what I needed to know. He was convinced they’d come after me, so I liquidated what assets we had, purchased the RV and disappeared. I’ve been living off the grid, I think is correct to say. I was living in a trailer park outside of Tampa when I met Athena. My custom has been to move around, do odd jobs to supplement what my father left me.”

“What kind of odd jobs?”

She shrugged. “I’ve worked everywhere from fast food to dog groomers to hotel maid jobs.”

“Did your father think your life was in danger?” He made sure there was no emotion in the question despite the fear spearing him in the gut.

“He couldn’t know for sure, but he knew their ways intimately and prepared me for the possibility. There are those in power who would strike out at me, not only to keep me from revealing their secrets, but for revenge at my father’s betrayal.”

“Nice company he used to keep.” Deacon snorted sardonically.

“If they would torture a thirteen-year-old, they wouldn’t hesitate to come after me now.”

Deacon rubbed his worrisome knee. “Let’s sum this up. You undoubtedly have the skill. I don’t personally approve of women in these types of jobs–but let’s say I could get past that.”

“Okay.”

“When you become part of a team, you take on part of the responsibility for their safety. You have enemies–major enemies. Would you be willing to expose others to the same danger? If they come after you, wouldn’t you be risking the lives of those around you?” Even as he asked the question, Deacon was combating the urge to hide her away in his own fortress, protect her against anyone or anything who might hurt her.

Everything within Taz went flat. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t thought of it that way.”

As soon as he saw resignation flash across her beautiful features, he regretted the summation he’d expressed. Who was he to talk? When Carter hired the kid to throw the grenade at them, the traitor hadn’t worked alone. After he’d been caught and persecuted for selling stolen arms, it was well known he’d had help. There were others with reason to come after both Holden and himself. Carter and Lucky weren’t the only enemies he’d made through the years. Who was he to deprive this woman of the protection she’d have by joining forces with the Omega Team? Especially since the Omega Team had pursued her, not the other way around? She was more than qualified. The only thing truly standing between him and a recommendation was the fact he was thinking with his heart and not his brain. “Let me make some notes.” He needed to give this thought. 

“No.” She stood. “It’s time for me to leave. I understand and agree with your position.” She felt hollow. There would be no Omega Team and there would be no more time with Deacon. What hurt her more than losing the job was seeing how little last night meant to him. The most emotion she’d ever felt and the one she’d lavished her affection on considered it worthless. What had been love making to her had been mere sex to him. “I thank you for your hospitality.” She bowed her head and started for the door.

Sheer unadulterated panic struck Deacon like a sledgehammer to the head. “Absolutely not.” He stepped straight into her path. “We both owe Grey and Athena a thoughtful answer. I said I need to make some notes and look at the facts in an organized manner. You will wait while I do just that.”

“You aren’t going to change your mind. I see no need to delay the inevitable.” All she could think about was getting away from him. Being this close and not wanted by him hurt.

Deacon’s reaction to her decision was a mystery he didn’t have time to contemplate. All he knew was that he couldn’t let it happen. Not until he came up with some idea–some answer–that would keep her safe and him sane. “I’m telling you to stay. This isn’t over.”

Taz felt like a puppet on a string, jerked in every direction and never under her own control. “Since I arrived, I’ve been the one who wanted to stay, you’ve wanted me to leave. Now, I’m ready to go and you’re asking me to stay.”

Deacon nodded, having to clutch his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. “I’m just asking for time to do this right.”

“But you’re not going to change your mind, again we are at a stand-off.” He didn’t say more and she knew nothing else to add. “I’ll be in my…the second guestroom if you need me.”

Watching her go, Deacon knew he needed her more than anything. What was he going to do about it? Hell, if he knew.

*  *  *

Taz couldn’t stand it another minute. Being in the same house with Deacon, yet so far apart, was killing her. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t even take a full breath. Leaving the room where she’d been sequestered, she fled downstairs. She wouldn’t leave, but she couldn’t stay either. The only compromise was her RV. No matter how many steps she took away from him, she still felt the pull. Too bad he didn’t feel the same way.