The Protector Read online

  But then the door swung open revealing Eryn’s hourglass figure, cast into silhouette by the light behind her, and there was no mistaking her nudity, with the exception of the barely-there, black panties on her hips. Ike’s heart suspended its beat.

  Thank you, Jesus. She hadn’t changed her mind. If anything, her state of undress sent a very clear message: She wanted all of him.

  Ike set aside his laptop, keeping it open just in case. Thoughts of packing up and shipping out flew from his mind. He was in no hurry to go anywhere. Not with Eryn standing in front of him like a virgin sacrifice, offering him more than any mortal man deserved.

  He rolled slowly to his feet, his body strangely weighted. “You don’t have to do this, Eryn,” he felt it only fair to warn her. What if he hurt her? What if her father found out? How would he ever look Stanley in the eye again?

  Her answer was to float toward him and slip her arms around him. The feel of her naked breasts through the material of his sweater made him groan.

  “I know I don’t have to.” Her eyes were translucent in the shadows as she tipped her face toward his. “But I want to, Ike, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  Christ, she knew exactly what to say, not only to reassure him but to arouse him. She wanted to make love to him. It was nothing short of wondrous. Gathering her soft curves in his rough hands, he felt like he’d been given a rare and amazing gift. Afraid that she might evaporate into thin air or disintegrate like a dream, he lowered his head and kissed her cautiously.

  Deep inside, he could feel himself trembling. He knew what he was, what he had to offer—which was nothing. But he could no more push her away than he could stop his own heart from beating. Besides, there was one thing that he could give her—more pleasure than she had ever known or would ever know again.

  Sweeping back the long locks of hair that covered her torso, he beheld her naked breasts for the first time. They were everything he’d imagined—full and high and tipped with berry-like nipples that made his mouth water. Drawn to them at once, he ducked his head and ravished the velvety nubbins with as much restraint as he could manage.

  For a night that had promised to end badly, this one was turning out to be the best goddamn night of his life.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Jesus Christ.” The shock in Caine’s voice brought Jackson fully awake. He’d been nodding off in the back of the Taurus on the return ride from Skyline Drive to Elkton Motel.

  “What wrong?” Ringo asked, tearing his gaze from the steep, winding highway illumined by their headlights.

  Caine lowered his cell phone to share the news. “Our asset was murdered,” he told them, grimly. “His throat was slit, just like Pedro’s.”

  Holy shit, thought Jackson, swiping a hand over his stinging eyes.

  “The perp was still on the scene when our agents answered Mustafa’s summons, but he jumped out the window and escaped. Lucky for us, he left his blood all over the holly bushes. They’re running his DNA right now.”

  “Was it Shahbaz Wahidi?” Ringo asked.

  “No. They brought Wahidi in for questioning, hoping he’d spill something, but he has an air-tight alibi. We’ve intercepted all his emails, monitored his phone calls, and nothing. He doesn’t seem to be in contact with anyone.”

  The news drove the fog from Jackson’s head, leaving his thoughts sharper. He was becoming more and more convinced that Shahbaz—and Itzak before him—were red herrings, employed by the real terrorist to divert suspicion from himself onto the Brotherhood.

  As he mulled over ways to prove it, he overheard Caine update their supervisor on the failed attempt to wrest Eryn from Calhoun’s cabin. He made a point of mentioning how the ex-SEAL’s cellar was packed with ammunition and that he’d fired his rifle at Jackson, driving him away.

  “That’s right, sir. Yes, sir.” Caine’s tone grew smug. “My thoughts exactly. We’ll need at least fifty HRT members to surround his property, plus a helicopter. The sooner they get here, the better.”

  Jackson couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They were planning to utilize the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. “You can’t be serious,” he exclaimed the instant Caine pulled his phone from his ear.

  “I’m as serious as a heart attack, Rookie.”

  “Come on, sir. We haven’t even established dialogue with the man,” Jackson argued.

  “You want to reason with him?” Caine’s eyes glinted as he twisted in his seat to glare back at him. “He fucking tried to shoot you.”

  “He aimed well above my head,” Jackson insisted, though at the time, the bullet had felt pretty damn close.

  “He has a smear on his military record, not to mention enough weaponry in his basement to start a revolution. You saw it for yourself.”

  The so-called smear on Calhoun’s record was nothing more than a case of extremely bad luck. “The man needs the weapons for the business he operates. Look, can’t we at least give him a chance to do the right thing?”

  “You said it yourself, Maddox. He’s not going to just hand her over.”

  “Maybe if he knows the consequences.”

  “Fine,” Caine gave in unexpectedly. “You want to talk to Calhoun, go right ahead. As soon as it’s daylight, take the Taurus and go. I’ll give you till noon to bring him in.”

  Was he serious?

  Ringo drove them off the highway into Elkton Motel’s parking lot where he double-parked by the RV and killed the motor. The motel’s neon sign buzzed in the sudden silence. Jackson queried the wisdom of setting off Calhoun’s alarm and barreling up his steep gravel driveway unannounced.

  “What’s the matter, Maddox?” Caine taunted. “Change your mind?” He pushed his door open, stepping out. Ringo did likewise.

  “I’ll go,” Jackson decided.

  Ringo poked his head back in the car. “I’ll go with you,” he volunteered.

  “No, you won’t,” said Caine, slamming his door shut. “I’ll need your help coordinating with HRT and the National Guard.”

  Ringo sent Jackson an apologetic grimace before following Caine to their room.

  Jackson stayed in the car for a moment. He hoped to hell Calhoun’s integrity was as rock-solid as he intuited to be. In about six hours, he’d find out.

  **

  Cradling Ike’s head in her hands, Eryn transferred his lips to her other aching breast and gasped her pleasure. The way he lapped and suckled on the sensitive peaks sent darts of pleasure zinging to her womb. If he kept this up much longer, her legs were going to buckle.

  She tried concentrating on his callused hands which were now touching her the way she’d fantasized, raising a trail of goose bumps as he swept them from her shoulders to her hips, molding, caressing, shaping. He slid them over the fullness of her backside, squeezed and lifted. Eryn moaned. In the next instant, he swept her off her feet and spilled her gently onto the bedspread.

  He pulled away to take his clothes off. Eryn’s heart rate doubled as she watched him undress. He scrabbled at his laces, shucking his boots in record time. He hauled his sweater and T-shirt off simultaneously, revealing mounds of sculpted muscle and a thatch of auburn hair that glinted in the muted light. Every square inch of his torso was honed to perfection.

  “Oh, Ike, you’re beautiful,” she exclaimed, coming to her elbows to see him better. He sent her an incredulous look.

  Her gaze locked eagerly on the hands now unfastening his pants. She touched her tongue to her upper lip.

  With a jerk and a tug, he dropped his jeans and stripped off his boxers. Eryn managed to glimpse just an eyeful before he pushed her back against the mattress. Seizing the elastic of her panties, he yanked them off in one impatient movement that startled a laugh out of her.

  “You’re beautiful,” he corrected, taking a moment to gaze down at her.

  His hungry gaze made her face heat self-consciously. Stroking her hands up the muscled length of his arms, she pulled his head down for a kiss. Talk to me without words. Tell me
all about you…

  He sank gently over her, melting her with the purposeful forays of his lips, teeth and tongue. Loving the weight of his body on hers, Eryn gave her hands free rein. From his broad shoulders, to the dense contours of his pectorals, to the resilient steel of his buttocks, she reveled in his undiluted masculinity.

  When he moved his lips to her neck, her collarbones, her breasts, her entire body went taut with anticipation. He lathed her nipples into stiffness, and she arched helplessly toward the pleasurable torment, all too conscious of his arousal brushing her thigh, warm and velvety and distinctly present. Heavens, would she be able to accommodate all of that?

  But then he was moving lower, giving her something altogether different to dwell on. His lips followed the curve of her ribs to traverse the plane of her belly. As his tongue swirled in and around her naval, her blood came to a flash boil. His lips brushed the curls at the apex of her thighs and her hips came off the bed. Oh, yes. Oh, please.

  “Copper,” he breathed, his breath warm against her skin.

  She whispered aloud the plea in her head.

  There was no mistaking the flash of white in the darkness for anything but a smile. “What’d you say?”

  Unable to repeat herself, she spread her thighs wordlessly.

  He chuckled. “That’s what I thought I heard.” And then he ducked his head, obliging her.

  Dear God. In her mind’s eye, Eryn saw herself as if from a distance, on the pinnacle of a mountain that had been shaped in ancient days by great land masses colliding, causing an up-thrust of granite thousands of feet high. When Ike touched her there, it felt like the mountains were being shaped all over again, his world and hers colliding.

  Heat flowed along her ravines and passageways as Ike took his time moving toward the epicenter of her pleasure. He circled it, compressed and agitated it, instigating tremors of delight that rippled through her, each one more powerful than the last. She turned molten, unstable, volatile. The result of their worlds colliding was going to be tumultuous.

  “Yes,” she cried, as he slipped a finger into her chasm. He added a second digit, stroked and stretched. The incursion was all that was needed to push her over the edge. She felt herself folding and faulting, becoming a changed woman. The sensations were so raw, so organic that she screamed his name out loud. Aftershocks shook her endlessly before giving way to a stunned calm.

  When she opened her eyes again, she found him studying her in wonder.

  “Sorry,” she apologized, grateful that he couldn’t see the images in her head.

  “What the hell for?” He lunged across her body reaching for the bedside table. As his erection came within inches of her hand, she caught it deliberately, enraptured by its velvety texture, awed by its size. Speaking of upheaval. She wanted to put her mouth on it, to rock his world the way he’d just rocked hers.

  He pulled deliberately away. “It’s been a while,” he apologized. Watching him tear open a condom wrapper with his teeth, it hit her that she hadn’t given a thought to birth control. Oh, smart, Eryn. Thank God Ike had more common sense than she!

  Covering himself with the same efficiency that he did all things, he settled back over her. The intent expression on his face made her toes curl.

  “You good?” he asked thickly.

  “I hope so.”

  He tensed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I hope we fit,” she said breathlessly.

  He huffed out a laugh of relief. She could feel his heart trotting against her crushed breasts. “We’ll fit,” he promised, and then he kissed her thoroughly, reawakening her senses.

  It occurred to Eryn that the true collision of their worlds was yet to come. She braced herself. Yet the smooth head of his engorgement met no resistance as he probed her entrance. Moist heat flooded her, easing his way.

  He took possession of her so slowly, so thoroughly that each gentle incursion stripped the air from her lungs, even as it filled her with a delicious desperation for more.

  “Still okay?” he gritted. She realized every muscle in his body was rigid from holding himself back. A light layer of sweat sheened his bare skin. His heart was pounding.

  “Oh, yes,” she gasped, awed by her affect on him, her response to him. Together they made a new creation.

  One more thrust and their hips came solidly together. Eryn gave a cry of rapture. Every inch of him was buried deep inside her, and—guess what?—they fit, just right.

  With his forehead pressed to hers, he gasped for breath.

  Her hips undulated with the need to satisfy a deep itch. “Please don’t stop,” she begged.

  “You’re going to make me come,” he warned.

  The thought of him teetering on that brink made her inner muscles clench, drawing up a rush of pleasure so intense that it mushroomed into another climax. He caught her cry of surrender in a searing kiss.

  The arc of her ecstasy was just beginning to fall when Ike tore his mouth from hers, buried his face in the crook of her neck, and shuddered in stoic silence. As her rapture faded into warm contentment, Eryn smiled.

  Even in the throes of sexual release, her protector was the strong, silent type.

  Holy fuck, Ike thought, clawing his way back to consciousness.

  Eryn lay beneath him, her dreamy smile lit by the suggestion of dawn that framed the closed blind. Outside, a couple of song birds twittered optimistically. Down in Jollet’s Hollow, the rooster crowed. All was peaceful and calm. He could only hope the agents who had tried to outsmart him last night were fast asleep.

  Shutting them out of his thoughts, he focused on the woman embracing him so tenderly, now putting her lips to his chin, in what was fast becoming a habit. A chuckle rasped in his throat at he recalled her lack of inhibition.

  “You should laugh more often,” she remarked, tipping her head back to look at him. Her eyes looked iridescent in the shadows. “I like the sound of it.”

  As long as she continued to surprise him, he’d continue to laugh. Who knew Stanley’s daughter would as amazing in bed as everywhere else? Christ, if there was one more endearing thing about her, he was going to fall head over heels in love with her.

  Panic followed swiftly on the heels of that thought. Using the condom as an excuse, he started scooting off the bed, but Eryn caught him back, snuggling against him. His traitorous body, all too glad to feel her nakedness against him, gathered her closer. As she laid her head on his chest, he stared down at her in wonderment, at an utter loss for words.

  She began to comb her fingers through his golden chest hairs. “Tell me why your hair turned silver, Ike,” she requested sleepily. “What happened? What made you leave the military?”

  He had no intention of telling her anything. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, ever even let himself think about. But the same spirit of intimacy that kept him in the bed brought the memory, haltingly, out of his mouth. He heard himself tell her how his reconnaissance squad had stumbled onto a pair of boys herding their goats in the Hindu Kush.

  “There wasn’t anything in the handbook to tell us how to deal with them,” he recounted, recalling his queasy dread. “We knew they’d run and tell the elders they’d seen soldiers on the pass. But we couldn’t just kill them in cold blood. Christ, they were only kids.”

  “Oh, Ike.” She tightened her grip on him.

  He found himself reliving the moment, right down to the feel of grit between his teeth and the lightheadedness that resulted from an arduous climb at ridiculous altitudes. “I was the OIC. I let the guys cast a vote, but the final decision was mine.” A familiar pain, one he thought he’d pushed away for good, wracked him. “Even as I let the kids walk, I knew I was sealing our death sentences.”

  Eryn’s fervent embrace took the edge off his agony. “What happened?”

  “We tried to retreat, but we were too far up the mountain to get back down. There was nowhere to hide that they wouldn’t find us. About fifty Taliban came after us, shelling
out more firepower than we could match. One by one, I watched my men get shot, killed.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” She kissed his throat, her tenderness melting him. The endearment had him spilling out the rest.

  “Spellman and I found a hollow log. We hid in it as they rained RPGs down on us. Finally, the air support we’d called in came down and drove the Taliban away. But, by then, it was too late. Four of my men were dead. My decision got ’em all killed.”