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Authors: Rita Henuber

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Fiction

Under Fire (8 page)

BOOK: Under Fire
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He pressed his palms to his eyes.
Jee-sus.
All it had done was rev him up. He’d never done that with another woman. Or had he?
Fuck.
He rolled to his side. Sex with her was making him forget every other woman he’d been with.

“I’m getting a shower,” she said, walking past and stripping out of her shirt as she went. Halfway there she stopped and peeled off her shorts and panties.

“Ah shit,” he muttered at her naked backside and rolled to his other side. Watching her shower was more than he could take. He was going to have to find a way to keep from getting hard every time he looked at her.

At least she showered quickly.

“Feel better?” she said, settling on the bed opposite him. She was wearing panties and a tank top that barely covered her breasts. Her nipples poked through the thin cotton, begging to be touched.

“Yeah.” Damn, his teeth hurt. In the subdued light from the bedside table, her skin was pink and he remembered how smooth and warm it felt beneath his hands. She talked but he wasn’t listening. He was thinking about how that gorgeous mouth had felt on his lips and other places. And holy hell he was hard.

“Great shower. I could stay in there forever,” she said, peeling back the sheet.

“What are you doing?” The words shot out of him in a near panic. She froze and stared at him.

“I’m getting into bed. What did you think I—” Stopping midsentence, she gave him a withering look. “You didn’t think I was going to sleep on the sofa did you?”

“Yeah” was all he could manage, trying unsuccessfully not to stare at her chest.

“Think again, mister.” She flopped onto the bed and yanked the sheet up to her neck. “I’m tired. This is a big comfortable bed. You stay on that side and I’ll stay on this side.”

That was the problem. He didn’t want to stay on his side and he didn’t want her over there.
Crap.
He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

He adjusted the waistband of the shorts to trap his dick and prevent tenting.

Rico twisted his head to check the time on the bedside clock. He’d slept a little over four hours and was hurting. His hard-on made it painful to move.

Immediately after Olivia fell asleep, she squirmed until she nestled against him. As her arm crept over his chest, he doubted she was asleep. This was her payback for when he’d been in the shower. This kind of payback he didn’t mind. He’d worked an arm around her shoulder and she’d tucked her head against his chest. Each breath he took filled his nostrils with her scent and her body felt good, warm and right. It had been years since he allowed himself to experience the intimacy and pleasure of falling asleep next to a woman. That simple thing most men took for granted left him vulnerable and was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

Except with her.

Twice now he’d slept as soundly as she was right now.
Shit.
He had to get out of bed. He’d given his word there would be no repeat of what happened at the condo, but his dick had failed to get the memo. Carefully, he extracted his arm from under hers. Each time she stirred, he froze. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake. If she did and moved against him, or even ran her hand over him, there would be no way of controlling his need.

Free, he eased off the bed and stood looking at her. Olivia rolled to her side and tucked a hand under her cheek, the other stretched out on the bed, resting where he had lain. One long leg drawn up, and the panties she wore revealed way too much of her ass. He pulled the sheet up, covering her completely.

He relieved himself and decided to think about the Dolphins’ losing season to keep from getting hard. He also decided to spend the rest of the night on the sofa. Rico reached for a pillow and Olivia’s warm hand slid over his.

“Sorry I woke you. I’m moving to the sofa.”

“Come back to bed,” she said in a sleepy voice.

“The sofa might be…”

She held the sheet up for him to return. He sucked in a scalding breath. The sexy panties and top that bothered him were gone.

“Come back.”

Dolphins’ losing season. Dolphins’ losing season.

Rico cleared his throat. “What are…you doing?”

“What you think I’m doing?” Her voice was deep and smoky. She levered herself on her elbow and reached out with the other hand, brushing his erection. Olivia rose to her knees and hooked her fingers inside the waistband of his shorts, then slowly pulled them over his hips. Down his legs. Her lips tattooed kisses over his chest then his belly. Disappointment shot through him when her mouth stopped short of where he wanted. The shorts off, she ran her hand up the inside of his legs, stopping to cup his balls.

“Ahhhh.”

“You hurting?” Her thumb made lazy circles on the end of his dick and it was a moment before he could form words to answer.

“I wasn’t…until you…” He swallowed hard. “My dick is so hard it hurts.”

She moved back, tugging his erection. “Come back to bed and I’ll make that feel better.”

He didn’t need to be asked again. He kicked out of the shorts and eased down next to her. She covered him with a condom and straddled him, allowing him to feel her heat as she stroked his erection. He slipped his hand between her legs and damn near lost it. She was swollen, wet and…
holy hell.
He had to be inside her, now. He tried to roll her over to take charge.

“No. Let me do everything. I don’t want you to be sore tomorrow and regret this.” She guided him to her center.

“The only thing…I could possibly regret tomorrow…is if I wake up and find this was a dream.” He groaned as the tip of his penis penetrated her.

“Definitely not a dream,” she said, making a graceful move to press him deep inside. Barely moving, the muscles of her lower stomach contracted and relaxed, her pelvis tilting slightly with each contraction.

Shit.
He wasn’t going to last. “Stop. I’m going to explode,” he choked out.

“Go ahead.”

Rico laced his fingers with hers. She leaned back and moved her hips forward. Two quick jerks and he lost control. Her body arched. She kept pumping, wild sounds escaping on each breath until her hips lurched forward, burying him so deep inside he might not find his way out. She came, but kept doing that thing with her stomach muscles, extending his pleasure, until he slipped out.

“You—” she gasped in a breath, “—okay?” she asked, stretching out beside him.

“Dunno. I can’t feel anything in my arms and legs.”

They lay still. The only sounds their breathing and the whirl of the ceiling fans.

His big head was already telling him this was a mistake. Letting the head below his waist take over command central had further complicated an already messed up situation. He maneuvered an arm around Olivia and pulled her close. She sighed, her warm breath washing over his chest.

Fuck.
Might as well enjoy the good tonight, because tomorrow it was going to be bad and ugly.

Chapter Eight

Olivia woke to the smell of coffee. She rolled onto her back, stretched and yawned.

“Good morning,” Rico said.

Rising to her elbows and squinting against the bright sunlight from the high windows, she found him lounging against the kitchen counter, dressed, holding a cup in his hand. The smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners spread across his face.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah. What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Damn. Sorry I slept so long.”

“Not a problem. But how about getting dressed? A tropical storm is headed for Miami. Should hit this evening and take a day or so to pass. We need to get to a market.”

“That’s great.” She sat and the sheet fell to her waist.

“Great?” He raised one eyebrow. “A storm is great?”

“Yeah.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and finger combed her hair. “It will slow the search for us. Maybe even stop it for a couple of days.”

Rico said nothing. His gazed zeroed in on her body as she walked to him.

“Uh, that coffee.”

“Sorry.” He poured a cup of the delicious smelling brew.

She took a sip. “It’s good. Are you hurting this morning?”

“Not so much.”

Rico took the cup from her, placed it on the counter and encircled her in his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She was going for indignant but it came out too breathless.

“Wanted to show my appreciation for last night.” His hand cruised up and down the indent of her spine.

“I thought it would be a good idea to be polite and thank you for sharing. I was…surprised, and that thing you did with your stomach muscles was freaking amazing.”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his head back to look at her. “You said this was business. What happened before wasn’t going to happen again.”

“I did say that.” She shrugged and lay against him, blanketing his body with hers. “I wanted sex and that pole in your shorts said you sure as hell did. I figured we both needed a little
sexual healing
.”

“If you’re trying to get a rise out of me—” he blew out a breath, “—you’re succeeding.”

“You started it.”

“Shit.” Rico gently pushed away. “Get dressed.”

She didn’t move.

“We need groceries. If you don’t get dressed right now—” he scanned her body up and down, “—we won’t be going anyplace for a long time.”

She looked at his crotch. The bulge in his shorts suggested she back off. “Okay.”

Rico blew out a long loud breath and rearranged himself. It was time for some hardcore control over these junior high boners. With the storm coming, it would be at least two days before he could send her back to Jacksonville. No more sex. Unless…He laced his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Shit.” There weren’t going to be any more last nights. He had to get her back to the safety of her world.

“You okay?”

He opened his eyes. She still wasn’t dressed.” Yeah. Hurry up.”

“How come we can’t get stuff at the corner?” she asked, digging in her duffle.

“Most of the people around here don’t own a car. They depend on the corner places. I don’t want to take things away from them.”

His heart raced watching her slip into shorts. It downright missed a few beats as she pulled on a shirt.

“I’m ready,” she said, hopping on one foot as she pulled a shoe on the other.

The storm moved over Miami late that afternoon with fifty mile an hour wind gusts and pelting rain. All they could do now was lower the steel window protectors and wait it out. After a dinner of Cuban sandwiches, Olivia curled up in the overstuffed chair and Rico stretched out on the sofa, both sipping rum and coke, listening to music and the sounds of the rain.

“When are we going to call your boss and get the feds off my back?” She’d given him more than enough time to bring up the subject himself.

“Tomorrow. First I want to get my head wrapped around how my cover was blown.”

“How can you be sure it was?”

“I told you, the boat was set to blow. The street value of the drugs on board was over two million. They wouldn’t have given up that much without good reason.”

“Are you sure those packages contained drugs?”

“Yes. Shit. No. I can’t be sure about each one. I tested three and they were the real thing.”

“Could a rival of Silva have set the explosives?”

“Yes.”

She detected irritation in his voice, but pressed on. “Do you think—”

“Olivia,” he broke in, “gimme a break.” He sat up and adjusted the sofa cushions behind him. “I have to work this out myself and I need some time. If you have to talk, talk about something else.”

Taken aback by the anger in his voice, she had a feeling he was blowing her off. They fell into an uneasy silence. The lights flickered once, flickered again and went out.

“Where did you put those candles?” she asked, standing.

“Forget candles. The generator will kick on in a few seconds.”

And it did.

“You think of everything don’t you?” she said, settling back into the big chair.

“When my life may depend on it, yes.” His sarcastic tone sent an uneasy feeling creeping through her. “What made you want to be a helicopter pilot?”

“What?”
Where did that come from?

“You heard me. Why a chopper pilot?”

Olivia blinked several times and made a face. “I don’t know. I’ve wanted to be one since I was twelve.”

“You’re telling me one day, when you were twelve, you woke up and said ‘I want to fly helicopters’? I don’t think so.”

“Okay, Mr. Smart Ass.” She wiggled around in the chair to face him. If she got him talking maybe she could get the conversation back to Silva. “I looked around and saw who ruled everything. The boys. I looked at how my brothers and their friends did things and thought—no,
I knew
—I could do it better. I knew I could do anything I set my mind to doing. I also knew the only way to get boys’ respect was to beat up on a few of them. Luckily I was big for my age and could hold my own for a while.”

“A while?” He smirked.

“Yeah. When they got tired of a girl beating on them, they started fighting back. After I don’t know how many fat lips and black eyes, my dad finally agreed to teach me karate moves and how to box.”

“What did your little girl friends thinks about that?”

“Didn’t have any.” She raised a shoulder and let it drop quickly.

“No girls where you lived?”

“Plenty. I didn’t want to play with them and their moms didn’t want them having anything to do with me. I wasn’t ladylike.”

“Not having girls to play Barbies with didn’t turn you into a pilot.”

“No.” She paused, the moment springing into her mind like it happened a few minutes ago. “My brothers, a few of their friends and I were hanging out in the yard talking about what we were going to do when we grew up. Sam said he was going to be a Navy jet jockey. Danny said he was going to be a police detective like the ones on TV. Not wanting to be outdone, I said I was going to fly jets also. Sam looked at me and laughed. He said they didn’t allow girls to fly jets.”

Olivia stopped, recalling the boys’ laughter. Her stinging tears and the hurt from what she felt was her brother’s betrayal. And the rage. “They all laughed at me. I cried. When they saw my tears, they laughed even more. I went ballistic, tackled them. I broke Sammy’s nose and another boy’s pinkie finger, and left a few bite marks on all of them. It took Danny and two neighbor ladies to pull me off. By the time it was over, we were all bloody.

“Daddy was beside himself. I couldn’t tell if he was more angry or hurt by my behavior. He grounded me for weeks. It gave me plenty of time to plan my revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“Oh, yeah. That was another thing Daddy taught us. Don’t get mad, get revenge. I promised myself I would never cry again. It only makes things worse.”

“What did you do to your brother?” Rico leaned forward anticipating her answer.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Come on, what did you do?”

“I mean it. I didn’t do anything. Besides—” she paused and took a sip of her drink, “—it drove Sam crazy wondering when I would pounce. I think he still worries.”

“That doesn’t tell me why you chose the Coast Guard and helicopters.”

“While incarcerated in my room I studied the encyclopedia. The military services, the Coast Guard and different planes. I liked the Coast Guard because it had the smallest ratio of women. I figured by the time I was ready they would want more. Want and need someone as good as me.” She smiled. “I did my homework. Found the best way to get in a helo was to attend the CG Academy and to already have my pilot’s license. I harassed Daddy until he let me take flying lessons. Had my license at sixteen.”

“Okay. Tell me the rest.”

“Not much more to tell.” She shrugged. “I worked my ass off in school to get the best grades, got accepted to the academy and, after graduation, went directly to flight school. That’s it. I figured it out sooner than most.”

“Figured it out?”

“If a woman wants to get any place she has to be smarter, tougher and better at everything she does. She has to give up some things.” Olivia stopped and squirmed in the chair.

Rico stood, and it seemed to her he was moving easier. “You want another drink?”

“Sure.” It wasn’t like they were going anywhere. She drained what was left of the drink and placed the glass in his outstretched hand. “Don’t make mine so strong.” They might not be going anywhere but she wanted to keep her wits about her.

“What does your mother say about all of this?”

“Nothing.”

He stopped mixing the drinks. “Why’s that?”

She swallowed hard and chewed on her lip. “My mother died when I was two.” Olivia told him the lie she preferred over the truth.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“What about you? Why did you get into the ‘deep undercover’ business?” She wanted to steer the conversation away from her and get him talking about Silva.

“Me?” He gave her a wry grin as he handed her the fresh drink. “I went after the glamour and money.” He settled back into his spot on the sofa and looked at her sharply. “And the good looking women.”

Olivia tucked in her chin, narrowed her eyes, stared and held it. Not blinking and not moving. After several moments of silence he spoke.

“All right,” he said, his gaze on the ceiling. “I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. In and out of minor scrapes with the law. Joined the Marine Corps. When my enlistment was up, I took advantage of the GI Bill and went to college. Found out I was smart, did well.” He paused, glanced at her and returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“Third year, I switched my major to law enforcement. Applied to the FBI academy and was accepted. Two hours after graduation from the academy, the DEA approached me to work undercover and here I am.”

That didn’t go the direction she thought it would. He’d rattled off personal information convincingly. Just like she’d done when she lied about her mother.

“What was your major before you changed to law enforcement?” she asked, hoping to trip him up.

He adjusted the sofa cushions, punching one into submission. “Why?”

“Stop the macho guy crap. If you don’t want to answer, say so.”

After a long silence he said, “Being young and stupid, I thought I wanted to be a kid’s counselor. A social worker.” The last words rode out on an exasperated exhale.

Olivia was stunned into silence by his revelation. The truth, she was sure of it. He looked embarrassed, and her mind whirled. How did he go from a job requiring honesty and devotion to a life of deception and loneliness?

For that matter, how did she go from a Texas country girl to hunting down a drug czar? Her own answer was hurt. What hurt was he hiding?

“Before. When I said my mother was dead.” She paused. Only a handful of people knew the truth and she was about to tell a man she barely knew. “That was a lie.”

He straightened, cocked his head and gave her a do-I-look-like-I-give-a-shit look.

“My mother abandoned us. My father died right after I was born.” Rico raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s the truth. The only family we had, my mother’s brother, raised us.”

“Your father died and your mother walked away from three kids? Why?”

“It was a career thing. She traveled a lot. There wasn’t any place for us in her life. She sent plenty of child support. Birthday and Christmas cards stuffed with money. In that respect we never lacked. Her actual visits were few and far between, and then they stopped.” Olivia’s heart still stung with the memory of that last visit. Two six-year-olds clinging to their mother, crying, begging her to stay. She and Danny holding hands, sniffling, watching long after the car disappeared, hoping to see it return. She’d used the edge of her T-shirt to wipe Danny’s nose. The lie began then. She believed in her heart that wasn’t their mother. Their mother was dead.

“Why did you think I needed to hear that?”

Gusting winds rattled the steel shutters and debris pinged the building.

“If we’re going to work together we need to be able to trust each other. I don’t want to lie to you.”

Rico’s face clouded like the storm outside. “Yeah.”

“About working together.” She drew her legs up. “Let’s talk—”

“Not tonight,” he interrupted. “Tomorrow.”

“You said that last night.”

“And I’m saying it again. I’m working on it. Tomorrow we’ll talk.” He held out the remote and clicked on the TV. End of conversation. He surfed channels, landing on weather and sports. The storm was moving faster than predicted, and the skies would be clearing by noon the next day. She caught him staring at her and he quickly returned his gaze to the flat screen, mumbling, “Dolphins’ losing season.”

“Losing season? I missed that. With all the new blood…”

He stood, aimed the remote and the screen went dead. “I’m calling it a night.”

Exasperated, Olivia rose. “Where do you keep the sheets? I’m on the sofa tonight.” She didn’t trust herself to lie in that bed next to him no matter how big it was. Didn’t want sex clouding her judgment.

“Suit yourself.” He gestured to the built-in cabinets by the bed.

BOOK: Under Fire
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