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Matt
Matt told himself he was going to refrain. That he wasn’t going to pounce on her the moment she stepped into his space.
His intentions flew out the window when she flashed that smile at him, looking deliciously sexy in ass-hugging jeans and a blue-green shirt that clung to her toned curves and brought out the flecks in her eyes. He was proud he’d controlled himself long enough to get rid of Doc and lock the door.
This was what Hayley did to him. Turned him from a responsible, disciplined team leader into a lovesick fool. And he didn’t care.
He’d had better control when he was eighteen. Back when he hadn’t fully comprehended the rarity that she was. The Callaghans had a name for it—croie. A man’s heart. The one woman who was his everything.
He pressed against her, taking great joy in the feel of her fingernails clutching him through his T-shirt. Her kiss was every bit as desperate as his.
He lifted her up and carried her over to his desk. Holding her up with one arm and the aid of her legs wrapped around his waist, he used the other arm to swipe across the surface in a wide arc, clearing a space. He set her on her feet long enough only to relieve her of her jeans, and then he planted her gorgeous ass on the desk and sat down between her legs to satisfy the most urgent of his cravings.
She laughed lightly at his exuberance, but the pure heat in her eyes assured him she was right there with him and enjoying his complete and total lack of control.
He guided her feet to the armrests of his chair and rolled in closer. He’d learned so much over the past fifteen years. He wanted her to benefit from all of it.
“Maybe you should have said longer than thirty minutes,” she said breathlessly as her hands tangled in his hair and tugged him right where she wanted him, ratcheting up his desire another couple of notches.
Confident, sexy, and beautiful? He was done for.
His reply was a slow, long lick along her folds that drew a moan from deep in her chest and made her hands curl tighter in his hair. He did that several more times before punctuating the action with a sudden suck on her sensitive bundle while his finger slid in deep, eased by her wetness.
“You won’t last five minutes,” he said with husky confidence.
“Cocky much?”
He crooked his finger, earning a soft gasp and another moan, then added the pad of his thumb on her nub while making gentle, circular motions with his tongue. He knew he’d hit the right spot when the yank on his hair became painful. She could rip it out by the roots for all he cared. The only thing that mattered was giving her the kind of pleasure that made her forget everything else. There was only her on his desk and him between her legs.
Her feet moved from the armrests to his shoulders and coaxed him closer. Within minutes, she was moaning softly and coming on his tongue.
Glorious. But not enough.
He moved her feet back to the chair and stood, releasing and sheathing himself in record time. Her body was still trembling with aftershocks as he sank into her depths, relishing the rhythmic throb squeezing around his shaft.
Absolute bliss crashed over him. The world could end in that moment, and he wouldn’t care.
Another moan ripped from her lips, this one more guttural than the last. Fingers clutched desperately at his shoulders.
He kissed her hard, wanting her to taste herself on his lips. Wanting her to know that she was and always would be his, regardless of what happened when they left his office.
He took his time, relishing every second, creating new memories to layer on top of the old. The way she felt. The way she smelled. The way she looked at him with those beautiful eyes, half-lidded and filled with lust and something so, so much more.
Only when she reached her peak did he allow himself to follow her over the edge. In those moments, he’d never felt closer to another human being, not just in body, but in his soul as well.
She held him close. He savored the erratic beat of her heart and her breathy pants until the sharp sting of nails digging into his arms became the gentle stroke of fingertips.
She glanced at the clock and smiled, the easy, lazy smile of a satisfied woman. He remained inside her, wanting to prolong their connection as long as possible. Soon enough, it, too, like all perfect moments, would end.
“We still have twenty minutes,” she teased.
He chuckled and reluctantly left the haven of her body. The thirty-minute time frame had been calculated. Ten minutes to remind her of the kind of pleasure only he could give her and twenty to prepare her for what was to come.
Hayley accepted the clothes he handed to her. “Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this next part quite as much?”
“Because you won’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “But before we go any farther, we need to set a few ground rules.”
“Ground rules,” she repeated. “Okay.” She drew the word out slowly, seriousness seeping back into her features.
“You’re going to hear things and want to know how we got the information. I’m letting you know ahead of time, I can’t tell you—not because I don’t trust you, but because the source is not mine to share.”
Her lips pursed, but she nodded.
“Some of those things will undoubtedly also put you in an awkward position with the DOJ and your job as a DM. If that’s going to be a problem, I need to know now.”
She thought about that for a moment. “Will those things give me the answers I’m looking for?”
“Yes,” he said carefully. “But they won’t be admissible as evidence.”
Her brow furrowed; she was probably wondering by what methods they were getting their information. At this point, it was better she didn’t know.
“I’m okay with that,” she said finally. “Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll find some way to make things right.”
When he raised his brow questioningly, she added, “I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I knew the risks when I decided to come. I’m not here in an official capacity, remember?”
He nodded. He’d been on enough teams to recognize when someone was being offered up as a sacrifice. If things went to shit, they’d write her off and claim she was acting on her own. ICOCF, just like Ian had said. She understood that.
“Fair enough. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“All right then.”
Matt led her out of his office. The walk to the war room was a short one. Everyone was already there.
Matt did the introductions. “Hayley, I’d like you to meet Steve Tannen—”
“Smoke.”
“Hugh Bradley—”
“Heff.”
“Nick Fumanti—”
“Cage.”
“Chris Sheppard—”
“Mad Dog.”
“And you’ve already met Doc.”
One by one, the men either nodded or raised a hand in greeting and offered their preferred address as Matt called their name.
“Guys, this is Hayley Freed.”
There was an empty seat near the head of the conference table. Matt put his hand on the small of Hayley’s back and guided her to it. He held out the chair for her, then took the seat next to it when she sat down, ignoring the knowing smirks from his team.
“As you know, Hayley is a US deputy marshal.” The pride he felt in saying those words was evident in his voice. “She’s familiar with the DOJ investigation into Luther Renninger’s involvement with the international arms cartel but is here in an unofficial capacity. I’ve offered our assistance.”
Everyone nodded their heads, except Heff, who was shaking his.
“Problem, Heff?”
“I’m sorry. There is no way that woman came from the same bloodline that created Daryl and Dwayne Freed.”
Matt sighed.
Hayley’s lips quirked as she regarded him. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“What kind of assistance are you looking for?” Doc asked.
“Information, mostly,” Hayley answered. “Matt’s indicated that you’re aware of the situation and you might have intel that will help us in shutting the cartel down—or at the very least, cripple their activity in the northeast.”
“What about local involvement?” That was from Mad Dog, who put particular emphasis on the word local.
“The DOJ’s primary objective is bringing down the cartel,” Hayley answered carefully.
“What’s your objective?” asked Smoke.
“Of course I’d like to see the cartel go down. But I’m not going to lie. My reasons for being here are far more personal than that. There’s no love lost between my brother and me.”
“Good enough for me,” said Heff cheerfully.
Matt looked around the room, met the eyes of every man at the table. Made sure he had their unanimous approval before continuing. He did.
“Here’s what we know. When Dwayne was doing time a few years back, he made friends with a small-time black market arms dealer. The guy hooked him up with military-grade weapons when he got out.”
“Henry Hood,” Hayley said, nodding. “We know about him.”
“Dwayne brought samples back to Daryl’s prepper group, and the stuff was a big hit. Luther Renninger and Gunther Obermacher saw potential there. They figured if Daryl’s preppers were willing to pay for quality firearms, then other survivalist groups would be, too. They were right. Dwayne’s contact wasn’t able to keep up with demand, so they looked for another supplier who could.”
He paused, and Hayley nodded again. Thus far, she hadn’t seemed surprised by anything he’d said, but he continued in the interest of thoroughness.
“We’re pretty certain Luther had no idea what he was getting into. We don’t know how he made initial contact, but it was probably through a chat board or something. He used local business accounts to purchase in bulk quantity, and that created another issue—where to store the stuff.
“At first, they used the storage areas of local businesses, but when it got to be too much, they needed an alternative. Someplace less visible with limited access. That’s where Daryl came in.”
“The old mine shafts,” Hayley said knowingly. “They’re perfect for that. Darius’s friends stashed stolen goods down there, for a price. I used to go exploring when I was a kid. Me and—” Hayley broke off suddenly, as if something had just occurred to her.
“Who else is involved besides Dwayne, Luther, and Gunther?” she asked.
The men exchanged glances.
It was Matt who answered. “Daryl has amassed a small but loyal following. The hunting camp is a compound now, complete with barracks and storage. Daryl and Jerry are at the heart of it with Luther, Gunther, Lenny, and Joe Eisenheiser making up the rest of the inner circle.”
Hayley flinched when he mentioned Lenny, but again, she didn’t seem surprised, just disappointed.
“The majority of the club members probably have no idea what’s really going on. They see themselves as survivalists. Preppers. They’re concerned with what’s happening in the world, and they want to make sure that when everything goes to hell, they’ll be able to take care of their own. They think Daryl’s giving them what they need to do that. To put power back into the hands of citizens. His rhetoric is stoking the flames and providing the perfect cover for what he’s really doing—creating a network of domestic distribution hubs for the cartel.”
“Do you have proof?” she asked.
“Yes, but nothing that points to Daryl directly,” Matt admitted. “He’s smart. He has others do the dirty work, so he can claim plausible deniability, but we all agree, he’s the one pulling the strings.”
Her brows pulled together as she thought about that. “Daryl makes sure he knows everyone’s weak spots, so he can exploit them.”
Hayley looked at him, the pained look in her eyes confirming what he’d suspected. That once upon a time, he had been her weak spot. He tossed that on the ever-growing heap of reasons to take Daryl down.
“What does your mole say?” Heff asked Hayley.
Hayley’s eyes snapped to Heff and then narrowed.
Matt sent him a warning glare. Bringing the Callaghans and their intel into their discussion at this stage of the game was not part of the agenda.
Heff shrugged smoothly, an easy lift of his shoulders. “Hey, if we’re showing ours, she’s got to show some of hers, too.”
“Heff’s right,” Smoke rumbled, but his lips twisted, as if it pained him to say so.
“He is right,” Hayley agreed. “But just out of curiosity, how did you know about the mole?”
“It’s common sense. The DOJ is aware of the situation, yet there have been no arrests and no seizing of assets. Why? Because there has to be some benefit to not doing that, like using a little fish as bait to catch the bigger fish. They need someone on the inside to do that.”
“I’m here,” she reminded him.
“Yes,” Cage said, picking up the mantle, “but under pretense. Let’s face it; the DOJ wouldn’t send you in on personal leave unless they felt they had no better option. It suggests that their original plan isn’t yielding the results they thought it would.”
Matt was watching Hayley closely. Her lips parted ever so slightly as she drew in a near-silent breath. He could practically see her mind working, weighing pros and cons, determining how much to say.
Finally, she exhaled. “Fine. You’re right. We did have someone on the inside, but there’s been no word for months. We don’t know if they’ve been made or if something’s happened.”
“Easy enough to answer that. Who’s been feeding you inside information?” Doc asked. “We could tell you if they’re still around.”
Hayley frowned. “I don’t know.”
Disbelieving eyes turned her way.
“You don’t know?” asked Smoke.
“No. I’m not sure anyone does.”
“The inside man isn’t a DOJ agent?” Matt asked.
Hayley shook her head. “If he is, he’s beyond my security grade. All I know is, someone has been feeding information back to the DOJ, and based on the detail and accuracy of that information, it’s someone close to the situation.”
“You’re not seriously suggesting the mole is a concerned citizen, are you?” Smoke grunted.
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Hayley answered calmly, meeting Smoke’s gaze head-on. “I’m simply telling you what I do and don’t know.”
“Makes more sense than the DOJ planting an agent in their midst though, doesn’t it?” Matt offered thoughtfully. “New faces get made pretty quickly around here.”
“There’s no shortage of people who’d like to see a change in local leadership,” Cage said. “Freed has his supporters, but I think they’re a minority.”
“And many of those who looked the other way are now questioning things,” Mad Dog chimed in. “Luther’s shady accounting practices have local businesses teetering on financial ruin. That happened on Freed’s watch.”
“Mad Dog has a point. I think what happened with Obermacher Farms opened a lot of people’s eyes, too.” That was from Doc.
“It doesn’t even have to be someone directly associated with Freed or Luther,” said Heff, holding up a hand when Hayley opened her mouth to say something. “I know you said the information suggests an active participant, but it could just as easily be someone close to someone who is. A wife or a sibling with a working pair of eyes and open ears. Someone not directly involved, but who sees what’s happening and feels the need to do something about it.”
Murmurs of agreement sounded around the room.
“Let’s draft a list of Daryl’s inner circle and expand outward from there,” Matt said. “Include anyone close and anyone in the same household who’s in a position to see and hear things without being noticed.” Matt turned back to Hayley. “Agreed?”
She nodded. “Agreed.”
“Since we’re sharing information,” Heff suggested, “is there anything the deputy marshal would like to contribute?”
“It sounds like you know as much as I do,” she replied. “There’s not much that I can add.”
“You could tell us your plan,” prompted Cage. “You wouldn’t have come without one.”
“Shake things up and listen to chatter, mostly,” she said, her lips curving in the ghost of a smile. “No one outside of this room knows who I work for, only that I’ve taken a leave of absence for personal reasons. My return is big news. People are anxious to catch me up on what’s been going on. There’s also the bonus of being a thorn in my brother’s side, which might prove useful.”
That didn’t sound like much of a plan to Matt. Judging by the non-expressions on the guys’ faces, they didn’t think so either. It pissed Matt off that her supervisors would send her out as they had—without a definitive plan, backup, or the identity of the inside source. Despite what Hayley had said, someone knew more about what was going on than they were admitting. Matt had been involved in enough “need to know” situations to recognize one when he saw it.
“Anyone else have something to add?” Matt asked.
When no one did, he thanked them all and called an end to the meeting. The guys filed out with respectful nods to Hayley.
“They seem like a good team,” she commented.
“The best,” he agreed.
“And remarkably well informed.”
“Yes.” He offered her a wry smile. “I did warn you.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Do you have to head back right away?”
“I have some time.”
His grin became feral. “Thirty minutes?”