Sky's Lark (11 page)

Throwing himself around the corner, he aimed his weapon, finger on the trigger, as he spied the person inside. "Hands up!"

Bryce stared down the muzzle of a gun. Adrenaline hit him like a charging bull. Before he could duck or throw himself to the side, his mind clicked. The deep blue eyes staring into his own belonged to Night.

"Shit!" Bryce muttered on a relieved sigh.

Night lowered his weapon, a sly grin appearing on his face. "Damn, Sky. Trying to get yourself killed today?"

"Not really." His pulse dropped marginally after his scare and slowly leveled off. Running one hand through his short hair, he stared at the leader of the Wind Warriors. "You heard me?"

Stuffing a laptop and files into an over-the-shoulder carry bag, Night nodded, his attention on gathering up small piles from what appeared to be an office. "Yeah. Figured you were friendly. The bad guys always run like coyotes, none have enough courage or motivation to sacrifice themselves for a greedy drug boss."

"Thought it would be a target sitting in the catbird seat, ready to pick off our guys one by one." Stepping forward, he shoved a second pile of documents into Night's bag.

"Let's get going."

With a quick nod, Bryce followed Night, staying right on his heels as they carefully made their way to the front of the house and out the door. "For the record, you scared the shit out of me."

Night glanced over at him, a tiny hint of amusement crossing his face. "I hear that a lot."

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Bryce shook his head, not doubting the leader's words for a second. Night in full attack mode would be enough to scare the most hardened man.

Together, they left the house and trotted back toward the action.

Ten minutes later, the home and buildings lay in a smoldering mess sending up plumes of smoke into the air. Santora and his top generals had been dispatched to Hell and tons of cocaine either burned or blew away in the attack. Even if someone wanted to, they couldn't repair the damaged caused by the team and their powerful explosives.

Chapter 15

Thomas slouched across his large wooden desk with his nose buried in a pile of paperwork as it had been all morning. "I'm tired of this shit," he murmured as he rubbed tired eyes.

Maybe he could retire soon. A couple more years of dual income from the department and from Santora might be enough to allow him to live in comfort for the rest of his life. He could live on the beach, drive a sports car, and pick up young, pretty chicks. A party every night and no more kissing ass to keep his supervisors happy or ferreting away tiny scraps of information just in case one of the guys on the drug payroll wanted to play hardball. No. He would take it all with him, become anonymous, and live his days in the sun.

He could leave work early and stop by Lark's apartment once more. Take her to Santora. Earn the cold million. That alone would put him on the expressway to retirement. A small fortune to most, it would chop off a year of service to the federal government, grinding away day after day in an office full of idiots and smart-asses, digging through more political tape and harassment than one man could stand. He would be done with this crappy job just as soon as he found Lark and delivered her on a silver platter.

With a frustrated sigh, he resumed reading the latest memo from his regional supervisor.

A knock sounded on his door. Without bothering to look, he growled in that direction. "Come in." Tearing his focus from the paper, he stared up at three unfamiliar faces. "I'm busy. So whatever it is, just say it."

Three men, all in dark suits, stood before him. Clean shaven and wearing tinted sunglasses, they resembled dozens of men working in all branches of the federal government. He may not recognize them individually, but he did the uniforms.

The blond stepped up to his desk while reaching inside his jacket pocket. "Thomas?"

"Yeah."

A badge flashed. "FBI. You're under arrest."

His mouth dropped open as the words slowly sunk in. "What the hell? What for?" Standing, he glared at the men, a hint of panic sparking in the pit of his stomach. They didn't appear to be joking, which could only mean one thing…

"Conspiracy. Drug trafficking. Fraud. The list goes on, but we'll save that for the judge."

The other two men slid on either side of him, each pulling an arm behind his back while the leader slapped handcuffs around his wrists.

"You bastards. You have nothing on me."

Once more the blond faced him, a grim smile plastered on his face. "Oh, I think we do."

They led him from the room—through the entire DEA office—to their vehicle before shoving him in the backseat. They climbed in, buckled their seatbelts, and the driver pulled into traffic.

"You know what happens to a cop that gets thrown in jail, don't you?"

Thomas swallowed hard, his head swimming with confusion and dread, even as a cold sweat broke out. He could only pray his lawyer could intervene and convince a judge to set him free. Otherwise, he would walk into a nightmare straight from hell and suffer the fires of eternal punishment. He did know what happened to a cop tossed in the brink. The stuff of nightmares.

Chapter 16

Slapping the cell phone shut, Lark beamed up at the group of men sitting around a large table at a local mom-and-pop restaurant. "Got him."

Each had switched combat gear for normal clothing after stopping by Loco's condo to get cleaned up first. Lark finally met Oakley, the woman who had tamed the cranky ex-Marine enough to put a smile and expression of absolute adoration on his face when they were together. She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. Oakley declined their offer to tag along, citing a departmental meeting at the junior college where she taught, but didn't leave without Loco planting a hot kiss full of promise on her lips. Lark simply shook her head at the gesture, still amazed at the transition from surly beast to devoted fiancé.

"I would have loved to see the bastard's face when the FBI marched in and arrested him," Bryce said before sticking a French fry in his mouth.

"Ryan said Thomas was all arrogant and huffy until they got in the car and the other guys started talking about how inmates treated former cops. Then he turned positively green." She couldn't wipe the happiness off her face, knowing that not only did they capture a dangerous mole, but her team took out another main pipeline for drugs in the process. A good day's work in her opinion. "The Feds are still digging through the computers and files we dropped off, but preliminary consensus is that there is more than enough to convict him and the other traitors in the department."

Night took a bite of his hamburger. "Sky? Assuming this undercover assignment is over, what'll you do next?"

Bryce sucked on the straw and swallowed before answering. "Report in and probably return to my job, detective for the Rocky Hill Police Department."

"Ever consider leaving?" Spoon asked from across the table.

"Every now and again, just like every other worker in the world, I guess." He shrugged.

"When you're ready for a change, have Lark call me." Night wiped his hands on a napkin.

"Huh? Why do you think I'll still have his phone number in a year or two?" She blinked at her boss.

A small smile appeared on Night's face. "Because someone was getting all hot and bothered in the car earlier when I called, and by the way you two look at one another now, you'll be getting friendly again soon."

Lark's face burned. "Like you guys aren't going straight home to do the same thing."

"Of course we are. It's instinct. Go to battle other males then return home to celebrate by mating with the female."

"Been watching those nature shows again, Loco?" Cale slurped loudly on his nearly empty cup.

Lark grinned wickedly. "Oakley doesn't let him watch the Playboy channel anymore, so that's the next best thing."

Loco snorted then winked at Bryce. "She needs that perky butt spanked a few dozen times, but she's a damned good shot, so we tolerate her. Barely."

Bryce met her gaze with a gleam in his eye. "Any woman that can go into a small room with two deadly thugs and come out unscathed and threatening to cut their balls off after they're dead certainly gets my attention."

"What about the spanking?" Spoon brought the conversation back around.

All eyes focused on Lark.

She glared at the lot. "First man that tries will find himself calling 9-1-1."

Collectively, they shifted to look at Bryce.

"Sounds like a challenge to me, buddy," Spoon said before taking the final bite of his sandwich.

Bryce glanced over at her, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I just might take that challenge."

Night shook his head while the others egged Bryce on.

"We want details."

"Let us know who wins."

"She's finally met her match."

Lark ignored the comments, although the final one clicked in an entirely different way than intended. Bryce had everything she was looking for. Maybe they were right.

Chapter 17

"Come on in." Lark unlocked her apartment door, leading Bryce into the main living area before tossing her purse on the small dining table. "I guess you know your way around," she threw out with a saucy grin.

He snorted. "It's not like I dug through every nook and cranny."

"Uh-huh. I bet you couldn't resist digging through my underwear drawer, sniffing my intimates, and getting all hot and bothered while waiting for me to get home." Biting her lip, she battled and lost the struggle to keep from smiling.

"I'm not that kinky." He turned to face her, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

"But you are kinky?"

His eyebrows shot up. "You gonna find out?"

She saw the challenge for what it was, a hint for a bit of hot and heavy petting leading to a round of body fluid swapping. Her heart picked up the pace as she beat back the eager hussy in her mind telling her to go for it right then. No. Not yet. She intended to feel him out a bit more first, determine the potential for a long term relationship before making the literal leap into sex. Oh, she wanted him all right. But for many years to come instead of just a quick fling to work off the remainder of an adrenaline rush left over from their narrow escape from death.

Ignoring his question for the moment, she recalled the item he left in her bedroom. "Oh, you need your jewelry box back. Let me go get it." She spun and hurried off across the small area, her steps muted and quick against the hardwood floor. Returning a moment later, she held out the small item in her hand.

"No. Keep it." His gaze met hers. "It reminded me of you, the small, beautiful bird on top."

"But…"

"Really. When I decided to warn you, I had to find a way to do so secretly in case Rodriguez or another thug broke in and stumbled across it and blew my cover. I went to a corner antique store looking for something that might catch your attention but wouldn't stand out to anyone else. The dove reminded me of you." His hand reached out to cup her cheek. "I want you to have it."

"Thanks," she whispered, tucking the gift against her chest, touched by his sensitivity and consideration.

"You're welcome." He plucked the box from her hand, deftly setting it on the table beside her purse, his eyes sparkling with undeniable sensual need. Wrapping his arms about her waist, he pulled her snug against his body and took the opportunity to grind his pelvis against his stomach.

Lark placed a hand on his chest, halting him with a simple motion. "Is this a one-night stand?"

He slowly grinned. "Do you want it to be?"

"No. But I want to know your intentions first." She focused on his face, searching for the slightest hint at his thoughts.

His lips pressed softly against her forehead. "Did I tell you how beautiful you are? How watching you not only defend yourself but wipe out bad guys turned me on? About how each time you smiled at the other Wind Warriors, I wanted you to smile at me, too?"

The words lifted her spirits, bolstered her courage, and put a grin of sheer happiness on her face. "Really?"

"Yeah. I want the whole package, the perky little cheerleader with a perfect ass and the soldier plowing her way through evil, leaving blown-up compounds in her wake." His tongue flicked over her earlobe before he gave the area a slight nip.

"Mmm. And now? What do you think right now?" Her head tilted back, allowing him access to her neck.

"I think you're sexy as hell and if I don't get inside you soon, I'm going to explode in my pants."

Those words spurred her into action. Pulling back, she jerked at his shirt, pushing it up and over his face. Once he took over, her hands and focus dropped, working frantically on the buttons of his jeans, flipping the fly open then yanking hard at the waistband to peel the denim from his lower body. "Off. Now."

"Damn." Bryce slung his long-sleeved shirt to the floor carelessly before grabbing his pants, following her orders to the detail.

Lark took the opportunity to strip, jerking her shirt over her head as she stepped out of her pants. When Bryce's hands reached for her bra, she edged closer. "Off." He obliged, unclasping the material and giving it a toss. Her bikini panties followed, leaving her standing just as naked as he.

Stepping back, she raked her gaze over his body, noting every dip and line of his toned, muscular form before her attention naturally locked onto his bulging erection, jutting out from his body, hard and thick.

Her mouth watered at the sight. She'd seen several naked men, including the male cheerleaders in college that possessed little modesty in changing clothing in front of their female counterparts. Bryce ranked up there with the best, enough mass to keep a woman intrigued and thrilled, but not too much that would impair his speed or athletic abilities.
Just perfect.

Without hesitation, she circled her fingers around his cock, quickly learning the feel and sensation as she slid her hand up and down, measuring him and earning a low groan in reward. Bryce's hips bucked, pressing more firmly into her grasp as if pleading for more tactile exploration and stimulation. "Oh, my." She breathed out the words, in stark appreciation of his endowment and reaction.