August sat in the living room with the lights low. The reflection of the room shone in the large windows, and the inky blackness outside was peppered with small lights from buildings and cars.
After dinner, he’d swooped Gigi to bed. He hadn’t been able to wait another minute to get her naked and touch her. To kiss her body. To have her sing as he licked and toyed with her. Afterward, he’d sunk into her slick wetness and his brain had melted into nirvana.
Christ, everything about Gigi was perfect. Life with her was fucking perfect. Minus the fact that they were running for their lives and the cartel was trying to kill the woman he loved—
No. Don’t go there, you moron.
He couldn’t love Gigi. Well, sure, he could. There were a lot of things he could love about her. Her smile, her cooking, her laugh, the way she fit against his body like a perfectly carved sculpture God had designed only for him.
Sure. He could love Gigi. If he let himself. If he wasn’t careful. If . . . things were different. Right now, he needed to keep her safe and bury her ex-fiancé.
Once he did, she might not want anything to do with him. She might hate him for the animal he was. Might see him for the ruthless killer he could be when necessary.
And if he wasn’t guarded against the crushing blow of her abandonment, he’d fucking drown.
Sad. At some point in the last few days, he’d become a pathetic sap.
With the force of a tornado memories swept in. Memories of the unrelenting, humid jungle. Anxiety clenched the muscles in his neck as his body relived the severe dehydration that’d almost killed him. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, but the onslaught of insects buzzed in his ears, nipped at his flesh, waited to eat him alive.
Screams. Violent, terrified screams ripped through his head.
Rough hands dragged him through the thick foliage, taking him to what he’d assumed was his execution but was actually his salvation. A helicopter. The whomp, whomp, whomp of the blades was engraved in his psyche. Still rang through his dreams.
He hadn’t died that day, but the blood was still on his hands.
A shuddering gasp rushed from his chest, and he stood to pace the area rug. Dragging his hand through his hair he waited for the pounding of his heart to slow, for his brain to realize he wasn’t in the jungle. Wasn’t in survival mode.
He didn’t need to conjure the image of Gigi’s sweet smile—he had her in the flesh. Ready and waiting and his for the taking. And for the giving. Because he’d give more than he ever took from her. He’d be the anchor she’d been for him. He’d breathe life into her through her darkest moments. She’d never fully understand what she’d done for him. Would never fully understand that without those two weeks of heaven in his apartment, he’d have died in that jungle.
He hadn’t died.
Fire spread through him, igniting his soul with purpose. Someone wanted to hurt his woman, and he’d slaughter them when he found them. He wasn’t going to fall into the well of anxiety that could so easily swallow him up for hours. He wouldn’t relive those godforsaken moments anymore.
Stalking to the computer on the coffee table that had crept into sleep mode while he’d been attacked with trauma, he brought up Todd’s picture once again. There was one thing they hadn’t tried: a facial-recognition search on Roy Radcliffe.
Using a search engine, he found a good close-up of the middle-aged multimillionaire, which he plugged into the software. Locating the senator wouldn’t be a difficult thing to do. He probably went to his office multiple times a week.
But how often did he visit his home on San Juan Island? Flight records might find that answer, but boat records would be harder to come by. Getting a shot of him near the docks would help indicate he was there. Maybe. It was something. A step outside the box anyway.
Letting the software do its work, August left the computer open and strode to the bedroom. Easing the door open, he was struck by the scent of sex. He inhaled, and his mouth watered. Fuck, he wanted her again.
He moved slowly toward Gigi’s side of the bed. She’d turned over in the couple of hours since he left. He didn’t need X-ray vision to know she was naked beneath the sheets. The blanket swept around her body but her bare knee poked out, revealing a few inches of her sleek thigh. She slept on her stomach, one leg stretched out straight. If he lifted the blanket, he’d find her perfect, heart-shaped ass ready for him to devour.
His cock throbbed, straining against his briefs. He shouldn’t want her so badly. Not already. It was wild how often he could bury himself inside her and barely scratch the surface of his desire.
Totally messed up.
But Gigi got him hard like no woman ever had. He moved closer to the bed and studied the smooth planes of her cheek, which tapered down to a delicate jawline. So beautiful. He’d never get over how slight she was. But man, she could take every inch of him.
Gently, he moved away a long strand of hair and pushed it behind her shoulder, allowing him the view of her pouty lips. Lips that drove him wild. Lips that could drop words as sharp as a sword, that could dismantle him, that could send him to his fucking knees faster than any gun could.
He was completely taken by her. Not obsessed. No, that wasn’t the word. He respected her. Worshipped her, to a degree, but more importantly, he cherished her.
With her, he didn’t just lose himself. Goddammit, he found himself.
He tensed. He should back away. Let her sleep. But, no, he was too selfish. He touched the soft skin of her knee and danced his way up the outer line of her thigh. Palming his hand on her hip, he squeezed.
Gigi inhaled shakily and she jerked her head toward him. “You scared me.” Her sultry voice was thick with sleep and arousal.
“You torment me,” he countered. He continued to stroke gently and her body opened up, her back arching as he slowly moved his fingers over her ass.
“August,” she said admonishingly.
“Hmm?”
“Who’s tormenting whom?” She attempted to roll onto her back, but he held fast to her hip with his other hand, keeping her in place.
“I want you like this.” Christ, he sounded so shaky and desperate. But he didn’t give a damn. He wanted her.
Gigi settled back on the pillow and hiked her leg up another inch.
Goddamn.
Reaching her hip, he swept south, caressing her round ass cheek then sliding down to the junction beyond. To the sweet, hot little cavern that stole his breath.
He swiped his fingers over her folds and wetness coated his digits. He feathered his fingers in and out of her pussy. She ground her ass back, and his cock throbbed greedily. Sinking his two fingers into her, he reached for the condom he kept in the nightstand.
Gigi’s ragged breath filled the room. A sheen of sweat coated his skin. He continued to delve and play with her while he held the condom in his teeth and shucked off his pants and briefs. Her insides clenched around his fingers and she cried out, a deep, husky moan.
Her warm juices filled his palm, and it took all his willpower to ride out the last minute for her. When her breath slowed and her body uncoiled, he withdrew his hand and ripped the foil then rolled his little pal over his shaft.
Climbing on the bed, he tossed back the blankets so every naked inch of her was exposed and available to him. Exactly how he wanted her.
* * *
Gigi’s rapid breathing made the pillow hot beneath her cheek. Holy shit. Moments ago she’d been peacefully asleep, still sated from the sex they’d had earlier. Not that waking up to August strumming her desire strings was a bad thing.
The bed dipped beneath his weight and his mouth went to her shoulder. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re so fucking gorgeous and I knew you were naked.”
He hiked up her bent knee and she gasped as he settled between her legs. With her belly flat to the bed and her body slightly angled to the left, she could see his large, rough hand pressed to the mattress beside her head. So hot. Everything about August sent her—
The head of his cock nudged the apex between her legs and then plunged into her.
She gasped as he filled her, his weight coming down and pressing her into the mattress. Even though her body had accommodated his size only hours before, he still stretched her to her limits.
“Goddamn,” he rumbled next to her ear. “You’re perfect.” He kissed and sucked on her neck, and the gentle flick of his tongue moving in rhythm with his thrusts made her eyes drift to the back of her head.
No, way. She couldn’t be getting ready for another—
“Ahhh!” The involuntary cry of delight escaped her lips as his cock rubbed against her clit. Unable to buck or thrust, she withered beneath him. Part of her wanted to take control, to meet his pulses, but she couldn’t with the front of her body glued to the mattress.
The eroticism of wanting to respond but being unable to made pleasure blur her vision. Her body quaked and pulsed, needing more. Needing to go over the edge. Because this orgasm was rooted deep.
“You want more, baby?” he asked, reading her mind.
“Yes.” She choked out the word, not giving a damn how ragged and demanding she sounded. He smiled against her cheek, pushed her knee high, and drove deep.
A shockwave pulsed through her, spreading from her center to tear across her body. “August, August!” she screamed.
He grunted and pumped into her, giving her body every inch and taking it with every pull. Her bones convulsed and her heart rate pummeled against her breastbone. Ecstasy flickered its brilliant colors behind her closed eyelids as a gush of release streamed from between her legs.
“Christ, Georgia. Yes, baby.” August’s strokes were long and deep as he rode the aftermath of her orgasm and carried her to a state of sheer, blinding bliss.
Slowly, her heart rate lowered. Sweat coated her skin. He continued to rock in and out, a gentle rhythm that brought her back to reality. His weight grew crushing, and she squirmed a bit to get more air.
He eased onto his elbows and stared down at her, his cock still buried inside her. “I don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to me, but I don’t think I can live without this.” His teeth nipped her shoulder and then he found her lips and swiped his tongue over hers. “You make me crazy, babe, and I don’t want to be sane.”
His words spun a web around her as he parted from her body and disappeared into the bathroom. Every cell inside her hummed. But not just from the mind-blowing sex. Not just from more orgasms than she could count in a twenty-four-hour period.
From his words.
Her brain wanted to pick them apart. Needed to dissect them and gain an understanding of exactly what he’d meant—only she couldn’t go there. Couldn’t tease herself with possibilities.
The only thing more dangerous than getting entangled with August was letting her heart get strung up by words and lust-filled promises.
No, she wouldn’t go there.
The light in the bathroom clicked off and he padded back to the bedroom with a towel, as he’d done the night before. After she cleaned up, she pulled him down onto the mattress.
“How come you weren’t sleeping?” Hours before, in her comatose state, she’d thought she’d heard him leave the bedroom.
He snuggled in beside her, pulling her against his chest and trapping her hand beneath his on his sternum. “I don’t sleep the greatest.”
She tilted her face to study his profile. The dim lighting prevented her from seeing his expression clearly, but tension clung to his jaw. “Because of the cartel?”
“Because of a lot of things.” His answer was gruff, begrudging. It was clear he wanted her to drop it, but her heart wanted to know more—needed to know what haunted August.
She wormed her fingers from his hold and stroked his jaw. The scruff of his stubble abraded her palm, sending pleasant shivers along her flesh. “I’d like you to share more. If you’re comfortable.”
He sighed. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
She chortled. “Gee, that sounds forthcoming.”
He lifted his shoulder, the movement jostling her a bit. “The shit that plagues my mind isn’t for the faint of heart.”
She wet her bottom lip. “Tell me.” His warning didn’t sway her. Given Ivy’s disappearance a few months ago and her own hell with the cartel, she should want to run from anything he deemed heavy. But she didn’t. When it came to August, she always wanted more. His holding back his suffering was like a cruel twist of a sword in her chest. “Please,” she added, when he didn’t respond.
He turned his head and kissed her palm then gently circled his hand around her wrist and moved it to his pec. “I get—I don’t know. Bursts of memories from the jungle. Just consumes me for a bit and I can’t settle my mind. I came in the bedroom and just . . . needed you, I guess.” His words hung heavily in the room.
“You mean when you were on that mission?” The one he’d left her for. Correction. He didn’t leave you, dummy. He left. Big difference. There was no you and him.
His rough knuckles scraped over his beard. “Yeah. It was hell.”
“What was the purpose of the mission?”
A couple of seconds passed. “I’m not supposed to share classified information, but seeing as how I’m no longer in black ops . . .” He sighed. “The mission was to take out a warlord.”
Gigi fought the urge to squirm. The thought of the danger August had been in made her skin crawl.
“And we did. Found him in South America. Middle of the fucking jungle in an isolated compound,” he added with a snort. “Fucking bastard.”
“So what happened?”
“We killed his whole team. Dropped an IED and leveled part of the jungle.” Tension radiated off his body, the sated ease long gone from the firm muscles beneath her. “The government didn’t tell us we’d be taking out his family, too.”
A little gasp rasped from her lips. “No.”
“Wife and four children.”
“Ohmigod.”
“Of course by the time we knew, it was all done. But the screams. Fuck.” He covered his face with the breadth of his hand, and deep, shuddering breaths made his chest rattle.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I led the mission.”
“You didn’t know.” She caught his cheek in her hand and boosted her weight onto her arm, forcing him to look at her. “August, you didn’t know.”
His eyes glittered like green pebbles beneath a clear stream, and the pain rippling in his irises the current. “No, I didn’t.” His voice was strong despite the tightness to his mouth. “But part of me knows . . .” He shook his head and looked toward the window.
“What?” she pressed.
“Part of me knows,” he continued, his speech slow and careful, “that had I known about his family, the outcome might not have been different.”
Ice filled the air. Dismay curled around Gigi’s spine, but she didn’t let his statement draw her away. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed his mouth. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“No? Because we were all half fucking dead out there. We knew they’d execute each one of us if we were spotted. It was an us-or-them situation.”
She swallowed. “You’re speaking your fears aloud. Afraid you wouldn’t have made a different decision had you known. Which is normal.”
His eyes bored into hers. “How do you know?”
She shimmied closer and rested her forehead on his. “Because the August I know protects people. You killing the warlord was a matter of protecting Americans. Doing a service. A really hard one. You didn’t kill for fun that day, and you almost died in the process.” She smoothed her thumb over the strong arch of his cheekbone. “No. The August I know wouldn’t have hurt a woman and children. You’re not capable of it.”
“But I did.”
“Would you now?”
“No,” he barked.
“Then you wouldn’t have then. Plain and simple.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I have a feeling I could be caught red-handed at a murder scene and you’d still vouch for my innocence.”
She chuckled. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you innocent, but you’re noble.”
“I’ll take it.” His hand swept into her hair. “I meant what I said yesterday, babe. You’re the only reason I got out of that jungle. You saved me.”
“How so?”
“It was bad enough being dehydrated and exhausted. The elements were murderous. Add in the fact that I’d just killed innocent people and part of me didn’t want to live.”
The confession brought tears to her eyes. “I’m glad you chose otherwise,” she said.
He guffawed. “That’s the thing. I didn’t choose it. I pictured your face. I was ready to go but . . . remembering your laugh, your smile . . . that made me hang on. Made me want to see another day on this hellish fucking earth.” His arms tightened around her back.
Warmth spread through her, and then regret. When he’d been desperate and dying in the jungle, she’d been dating Todd. “I wish I would have responded differently. I would’ve greeted you the moment you arrived on American soil had I known what you were going through. I’m sorry for that.”
He framed her face with his large hands. “Don’t be. I have you now.” He pulled her head down to snuggle at the junction of his neck and shoulder.
She inhaled his scent and let his solid strength surround her. She’d been out of her mind to trade August for Todd. Batshit.
The image of August near death in the jungle, suffering, alone, and weak, made her heart palpitate.
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
She let her weight sink into him. “Let’s try to make it through the night with no more interruptions, mmm-kay?” she said with a chuckle.
He laughed and belted his arm across her back, holding her tightly. “I’ll try to exercise more self-control.”
“Mmm.” The moan came out on a sleepy sigh. “Do me a favor? Never hold back from me.” She yawned against his chest. “I like you just the way you are.”
Sleep crept in, and she let his caring arms enfold her.
* * *
Once again, August was up before Gigi. Not that he minded one bit. Waking up with her slim body cuddled to his brought a smile to his face every morning—well, the last two. And if he had it his way, there’d be plenty more. Leaning against the counter with his coffee in hand, he felt more awake and revived than he had in years.
What had she said last night? “‘I like you just the way you are.’”
Huh. He’d never been the type to hang off someone’s words, but Jesus, hers did something to him. Scared him? No, not quite. Worried him? Maybe. Though he’d never admit it to anyone but her.
She liked him. Fucking dandy. Her verbiage shouldn’t bother him.
But hell, it did.
Did she want commitment? The thought should’ve occurred to him sooner. He’d been so busy getting in her pants he hadn’t thought about romancing. Christ. He’d have to ask her on a date or something. He’d been stupid to assume he could just fall into an easy life with her. Just pick up somewhere in the middle and skip the tiptoeing around whether she liked him or not.
Well, she’d said she’d liked him. But what did that even mean?
He couldn’t do anything about it now. He wouldn’t try to figure out a future with Gigi when he couldn’t even figure out how to keep her safe. Living in a safe house would get old real fast. By tomorrow, she’d be stir-crazy. Maybe even angry.
Slamming back the last of his coffee, he went to his computer. As he brought the screen to life, the results of his late-night search hit him in the face.
A street camera had caught a photo of Roy Radcliffe exiting a car at—he glanced at the location—the harbor. A man stood at Roy’s side with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over a baseball cap. But the shot was good. Good enough that the man could be Todd.
He copied what was visible of the man’s face and created a new search.
There was an 83 percent match to Todd.
He sat back in his seat and let the smile take over his face. He’d struck gold.
I’ve got you, you sonofabitch.