Sullivan abruptly pulled his mouth away. “Easy,” he warned, reaching up to grasp Liam’s waist to steady him before resuming the task of sucking Liam dry.
There were no strokes of the hand this time, just a hot mouth sliding over him and a talented finger teasing that spot deep inside, over and over, until Liam gasped in pleasure.
“I’m coming,” he ground out.
Sully responded with a hum of approval as he drank up Liam’s release.
Holy mother of God. It was the most powerful climax of his life. The best blow job of his life. Nobody had ever come close to making him feel this way. To leaving him so limp and sated he wanted to slide down to the floor and collapse in a happy heap.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Sully got to his feet and flashed a cocky smile. He was still harder than steel, his cock jutting proudly, and although Liam’s mouth watered at the sight, he didn’t reach out to touch that massive erection.
Instead, he searched the other man’s face and whispered, “What the fuck are we doing, Sully?”
“I don’t know,” his friend admitted.
“You know it’s not going to go anywhere.”
“I know.”
Neither of them sounded convinced. Liam wasn’t sure why that was. Of course this wouldn’t go anywhere. They’d part ways as usual and pretend it never happened.
His heart ached at the thought.
“I don’t do relationships, Boston.”
The hoarse confession triggered a jolt of shock.
“I hurt people,” Sully went on. “I get bored and my eye wanders and . . . and then I hurt people. It’s easier to walk away before it gets to that point.”
Liam adopted a careless tone. “You can’t hurt me, Aussie. Because we’re nothing to each other, remember?”
“Right.”
Tension gathered in the air, thicker than a radiation cloud. Liam didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if there was anything to say. But even if he’d managed to come up with something, he didn’t get the chance to voice it because of the sudden commotion in the hallway.
“You can’t stop me. Damn it, Trev, I need to go!”
“You’re not going anywhere. That’s what they fucking want—to draw us out!”
Just like that, any traces of lust or regret or discomfort were extinguished. Liam charged out of the shower area with Sullivan hot on his heels. It sounded like Trevor and Isabel arguing out there, and those two never raised their voices at each other.
Liam grabbed the towel he’d left on the bench and dried off as fast as he could, but his body was still damp as he shrugged into his shirt and shoved his pants up to his hips. Sully dressed in a hurry beside him. Neither man bothered with boots or socks. They just ran barefoot to the door.
They flew out to see Trevor and Isabel facing off in the middle of the hall. Trevor looked upset, but not half as upset as his wife, whose face was ashen and whose body was visibly trembling.
“I have to go,” she insisted.
“What’s going on?” Liam called out.
The couple spun around, startled to find them there. Trevor glanced briefly from one man to the other. Liam knew Trev didn’t miss their damp hair, their bare feet, but there was no question or judgment in the man’s eyes. His gaze held nothing but deep concern, directed at his wife.
“What’s wrong?” Sully asked when neither of them answered.
Isabel’s blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. Her lower lip shook for a moment, and then she let out a shuddery breath and said, “Rivera killed my father.”
Chapter 23
One year ago
The pitter-patter of tiny toddler feet greeted the team as they piled out of the two Land Rovers onto the compound’s paved driveway.
“Daddy!” J.J. squealed as he barreled out of the house and threw himself into his father’s arms.
Kane caught the small boy and laid a big smacking kiss against his cheek as Abby floated down the front steps to join her men. Soon, the courtyard was filled with happy couples. Ethan had his arms full with Juliet, and even Morgan had his face tucked into Noelle’s neck for a moment.
A pang of envy struck Ash. Although he’d called this place home for the last four years, no one was waiting with their nose pressed against the window for his arrival. Hell, even that scary bastard D had been wearing a sick-ass smile from some text he’d gotten from his wife. He’d barely said good-bye to the team in his haste to hop on another plane to get home to Mexico.
Ash rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. Ethan and Kane had talked about grabbing dinner and a beer in town tonight, but he didn’t think that was happening now. He wondered if he should wait around or head to the barracks. At one point he’d had a room in the big house, in one of the posh suites on the third floor, but the lack of privacy up there had eventually gotten to him and he’d moved into one of the outbuildings.
Back when the compound was owned by a drug lord, the barracks had housed his private army. These days, it was just Ash, and the loneliness was starting to get to him. It was why he’d stopped in Rhode Island last month. After the gig in Hong Kong had wrapped up, he hadn’t been in a hurry to get home. But that visit turned out to be a fuckup.
He reached inside the Rover and grabbed his pack. The prospect of eating by himself wasn’t thrilling, but he was definitely feeling like a third wheel.
Before he could separate himself from the crowd, Morgan hailed him. “Ash, good work on the op.”
He gave him a half-smile in return and mentally shook off his melancholy. He had a good life here in Costa Rica. He didn’t need a woman—there were several in the city that had no problem taking him into their beds. And he had a family. When Morgan had hired him, it wasn’t just to do a job, but it was an invitation to be part of a band of brothers. So yeah, his cup was full, he had to remind himself. He didn’t need anything more than this.
“Thanks. It ended up being a lot less dangerous than I thought.”
The job in Trinidad to help suppress a coup had been successful with almost no casualties on either side. They’d diffused a bomb, captured two of the rebel leaders, and left with a fat paycheck and a happy client.
The older man nodded, looking a tad pensive. “Good planning and good intel helped.” He cast an uncharacteristically tense glance toward his wife, and Ash wondered what that was all about.
“You should stick around, honey,” Noelle cooed. A small smile played around her lips. “We’re having pejibaye soup.”
Ash felt a jolt down his spine as the mystery of Morgan’s strained expression was solved. The creamy soup made with the locally grown pejibaye palm fruit was a favorite of one particular person—Cate Morgan.
“Pejibaye?” he echoed, and tried, nonchalantly, to scan the grounds for signs of her. When he came up empty, the itch of discontent roared to life again. He returned his gaze to Noelle, who was now grinning outright.
“Yes. Inna made it special for Cate. She’s home for the long weekend. It’s Martin Luther King Jr. weekend in the States. Brown doesn’t have classes on Monday.” Noelle turned to Morgan and placed a scarlet-tipped hand on his chest. Her expression remained casual, as if she were pretending not to notice that her husband was turning as stiff as a board.
Images of the red Speedo flashed in front of Ash’s eyes. He suspected Morgan was thinking about the same thing.
“Dinner will be ready in about two hours,” Noelle told him. “Gives you time to clean up.”
“Noelle,” Jim said in sharp warning.
“What? You just got back from a successful mission. It’ll be nice to have a family dinner, won’t it?” The mocking note in her voice couldn’t be missed.
Morgan made a growling noise, which Ash decided to ignore.
“I’m going to unpack my gear. I’ll let you know about the chow later.” He ha
d a couple of hours to decide whether he’d be eating a sandwich in the barracks or dining with the rest of the crew.
He knew what he wanted to do. It was more of a matter of what he should do.
“You do that,” she murmured, then allowed herself to be drawn away by a question from Abby, leaving Morgan glaring at Ash.
“I’ll walk with you,” Morgan said. It wasn’t a request.
Ash tightened his grip on his pack before giving his boss a nod and making his way toward his quarters. Morgan followed him, not speaking until they were well clear of the house and out of Noelle’s earshot.
“You did good work back there in Trinidad,” Morgan said, breaking the silence. “You’re a valuable asset to the team.”
“You fixin’ to fire me?” Ash drawled.
“Not yet,” Morgan grunted. “Don’t give me a reason to either. I like you, but . . .”
“But what? Don’t come to dinner or I’ll be looking for a new job?” He sounded testy, but hell, he was testy. He’d kept his hands off Cate all these years and it had been damn hard. He couldn’t be held responsible for the girl’s feelings or her inappropriate gifts.
Morgan sighed. “Cate grew up with a shitty grandfather. Now she’s here, and let’s face it—I’m not much of a dad. She has no shot at a normal life. She says she wants to run around the world and do crazy stuff, but that’s because she hasn’t experienced anything different.” His voice went gruff. “She’s a beautiful girl, but she’s still only a girl.”
“I know that,” Ash ground out.
He’d always restrained himself. Always. And Morgan getting up in his face, suggesting that Ash was influencing Cate in the wrong direction, was not fucking appreciated. For the last year he’d been intentionally hurting Cate in an effort to maintain some kind of distance. Like the pen fiasco? He’d stood in that airport shop for an hour, obsessing over the exact right gift. The one that said, I think of you and you should think of me, but in the most casual and least meaningful way.
Morgan’s features hardened. “All I’m saying is, I want the best for Cate.”
Which meant while Jim trusted Ash to have his back, he didn’t want Ash’s dirty hands anywhere near his daughter.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I’m keeping my pants zipped if that’s what you’re worried about. I do my fishing in the city, not here.”
He turned on his heel and marched toward the squat concrete building that served as his home. Thankfully, Morgan didn’t follow. He didn’t need to. Ash had gotten the message, loud and clear.
But fuck, he was tired of disappointing Cate, of being forced to say things that hurt her feelings. After he’d left Brown, the look of disappointment on her face when she’d opened his gift had eaten away at him. He’d passed up an expensive camera he’d wanted to buy because he knew that would’ve been encouraging her in the wrong way. So he was doing everything Morgan had asked of him and more.
As he pulled open the barracks door, he sighed with frustration. Hell, maybe Morgan was right to be suspicious. Ash shouldn’t have gone to Brown in the first place. What was he trying to do? Compete with all the preppy assholes that strutted the sidewalks at that fancy college? He had no rights to Cate and he wasn’t in any position to claim her either.
Screw dinner. He’d stay away from the main house tonight. He’d go into the city, find some willing woman, and try to forget the one he really wanted. He owed that to Morgan.
All his good intentions drained away the minute he opened his bedroom door.
In the middle of his bed, lying on the forest green comforter, was an angel—a naked one. She was a tumble of long blond hair and acres of golden skin. Behind those closed lids, her eyes were deep blue. She looked like a girl from the tropics rather than one who’d spent the winter bundled up in wool sweaters and mittens.
He should look away. That would be the right thing to do, but he couldn’t move. Lust anchored him to the floor as his eyes devoured Cate’s perfect body. Her round, perky breasts sat high on her chest. Her long legs were muscled and smooth. One arm lay across her stomach while the other was flung over her head as she slept quietly on his bed.
He could go to her, part her legs, and dive between them. His tongue darted out and licked along his lower lip as if he could taste her from here. Christ, he wanted to consume her. Fall on her, cup her tits, feast on her nipples, drown himself in her honey until he was drunk.
As need throbbed in his groin, he closed his eyes and slumped against the doorframe. Even if he didn’t owe Morgan everything, he couldn’t touch Cate. Because her father was right—she deserved the chance to experience a life different than the one she’d grown up with. A normal, regular life away from violence and seclusion.
If he took her up on her offer, he might bind her to him permanently, and as much as his body and his heart rejoiced at that thought, he needed to reject his selfish impulses. If he cared about her at all, he needed to push her away.
His gran once told him you had to be cruel to be kind. She’d caught him feeding some ducks in a nearby pond when he was about five or so. She’d slapped him silly and said he was going to kill those birds if he kept sneaking them food; that they needed to learn to hunt for grub on their own because he wasn’t always going to be around.
With that hard lesson in the forefront of his brain, Ash threw his bag on the ground forcefully. It landed with a loud clink against the terra-cotta tile, generating the intended result. Cate jerked upright in surprise, her hair falling down her breasts.
He pushed himself away from the door, forcing a nonchalant look on his face as if he didn’t have a raging hard-on. He couldn’t prevent that, but he could pretend like it didn’t matter.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with feigned indifference.
“I—I . . . ,” she stuttered, not fully awake.
Her hand went to brush the hair out of her face, but froze mid-air when she realized she was nude. She began to cover herself up, then halted, as if remembering that her intention was to drive him out of his ever-loving mind.
“Noelle told me you were coming home today. I’m here on break.”
“That’s nice, but it doesn’t answer the question of what you’re doing here without your clothes on.” He stopped by a chair and took in the pile of clothing before shifting his cool gaze to her.
Cate’s eyes widened at his unwelcoming tone but then a smile curved her lips when she noticed the unmistakable bulge in his pants.
“I think it’s obvious why I’m here.” She rose to her knees, putting her mouthwatering body on display for him.
Ash locked his legs as they threatened to give out. She looked like a goddess, and he was only a man.
Cruel to be kind, asshole . . .
Right. He had to be strong. He couldn’t surrender.
“You need to leave.” He leaned down, swiped a pair of dark blue jeans from the chair, and tossed them to her. “We’re having dinner in an hour. I need to shower and shave.” And jack off.
Cate moved toward him. “I’ll shower with you.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Why not?” she challenged.
“We’re having dinner,” he repeated.
Her hand dropped to her thighs, mere inches from her smooth, bare sex, and Ash’s brain short-circuited. His heart beat frantically with worry and want. If she touched herself? He wasn’t going to be able to do what he needed to.
“I don’t want dinner. I want you.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact that Ash wanted to give her some acknowledgement of the courage it took for her to do this.
Instead, he remained silent.
She powered on. “I was at a frat party a week ago and there were these guys there. This one guy, Eric—he’s a Sigma Chi. He liked me. We did stuff.”
He struggled to maintain his indifferent expression. But inside, he wa
s seething. Stuff? He wanted to bash Eric’s head in.
Sounding less confident than before, Cate went on. “But I ended it. I didn’t want Eric. I want you.” Her voice wobbled. “You should be my first. My only.”
Ash stalked over to his dresser and pulled out a clean set of clothes.
“I know you want me too,” she blurted out. “Damn it, I can see how much you want me.”
He channeled all his self-loathing, all the anger he felt toward Morgan, and injected it into his voice. “Don’t flatter yourself, sugar. My dick gets hard when I see a naked woman. It’s a physical reaction. I’d get hard for Noelle and Juliet and Abby too if they were flashing their tits at me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Truth,” he shot back. “Look. Cate.” He drew a breath. “You’re beautiful, okay? Not gonna deny that. But here’s the problem—I have no desire to sleep with a virgin. Little girls with no experience don’t interest me. So if you came all the way from Brown for sex, you’re shit out of luck. Go back to Eric. That’s where you belong.”
Her gasp of pain hung in the air between them.
Ash stared past her because he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. Not after the hurtful lies he’d just spewed.
“Ash,” she whispered, and he heard the sob that caught in her voice. “I—”
“Get out, Cate. Go back to the house. I don’t want you in here.”
Before she could object, he stalked across the hall to the bathroom, where he turned the shower on full blast and proceeded to bend over the toilet and vomit until all that was left in his system was acid-coated bile.
Yeah. If she didn’t hate him before, she sure as shit hated him now.
Chapter 24
Present day
“We found something!” Cate announced when they returned to the base three hours later. “Camila Rivera is here and she’s staying at the Westin.”
Not a single person in the briefing room spoke in response. It took her a second to realize that she and Ash had walked into something . . . and it wasn’t good.