Midnight Target

  Taking a breath, he dripped some lube in his hand and then trailed a finger down the crease of Liam’s tight buttocks. His friend’s spine went rigid again when that finger breached him, but his ass pushed against the probing touch. The lube made it easy to slide in deep, and when Sully slowly rubbed the spot he knew would drive Liam wild, he was rewarded with a hoarse groan of pleasure. He wished he could see Liam’s face but the man’s cheek was pressed against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut.

  Sully added a second finger and watched a shudder run up Liam’s sculpted back. “You okay?” he said huskily.

  “Yeah,” was the equally husky response. “Don’t stop.”

  Yeah right. Like stopping was an option. He wanted this too much.

  Liam grumbled when Sully suddenly withdrew his finger. “I told you not to stop.”

  “Not stopping. Just suiting up, mate.”

  He leaned forward to kiss the nape of Liam’s neck, then tore open a condom packet and rolled the latex over his shaft. After he’d applied a generous amount of lubrication, he shifted forward on his knees, gripped Liam by the waist, and tugged slightly to adjust the angle.

  Sully knew he was a big man and Liam sure as hell wasn’t making this easy for him. The resistance was so strong he could barely work himself inside. But the tight suction around the tip of his cock felt incredible. He almost came right then, had to breathe through his nose to will away the tingling sensation in his sac.

  Squeezing Liam’s ass with both hands, he leaned in to whisper, “You’ve got to relax for me, Boston.”

  Liam drew another breath. This time when Sully pushed forward, there was less resistance. He slid nearly half his length in.

  “Fuck,” Liam whispered, his fists clawing the sheets as Sully continued his slow entry.

  “Feel good?” he rasped.

  “Mmm-hmmm.”

  He’d never heard Liam sound this blissed out before. Soon the man began squirming in impatience, sliding backward against Sully’s dick.

  When he was fully seated, he cried out in pleasure that bordered on pain. So fucking tight. He’d never experienced anything like this before. Hell, he couldn’t even stay upright—his chest sagged onto Liam’s back, his whole body trembling as he valiantly fought for control.

  “I thought you were going to fuck me,” Liam taunted.

  Sully croaked in laughter, but he still wasn’t ready to move. Not if he wanted to last more than two strokes.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Liam bit out. “Fuck me. Now.”

  Another laugh popped out. “How is it that you’re the one giving orders when I’m the one with my dick in your ass?”

  “How is it that your dick is in my ass and you’re not goddamn moving?”

  When Liam bucked back again, a wild curse flew out of Sully’s mouth. Holy shit. He was so close to the brink that he couldn’t see straight.

  He pulled out carefully, then drove back in with equal care. As much as Liam clearly wanted to get drilled hard, the man was tight as hell and Sully didn’t want to hurt him, so he maintained the slow pace, stroking Liam’s hips with each gentle glide.

  Lord, he couldn’t believe they were doing this. Two years ago he’d flat out refused to, and now he was balls deep in this man and it felt so bloody amazing. He knew he wouldn’t last long but if he was going to go up in flames, he was taking Liam with him. Luckily, when he reached around and gripped the man’s dick, he found it rock hard again.

  Liam groaned. “Yeah. Like that. A bit faster, man.”

  He barred an arm across Liam’s chest to raise him up, so that he was on his knees and Liam was sitting astride him with his back glued to Sully’s chest. Then he gave an upward thrust, as deep as he could go.

  “Holy shit,” Liam mumbled. “I . . . didn’t expect this . . . so good . . . fuck . . .” He was mumbling incoherently now, lost in the same mindless bliss that was fogging up Sully’s brain.

  As he jacked his friend’s cock, Liam twisted his head so that their mouths could meet. His tongue slipped inside Sully’s mouth, and then both of them were coming, mouths locked together, bodies trembling.

  The flood of pleasure stole Sullivan’s breath. His heart was beating dangerously fast. So was Liam’s—he felt it hammering against the palm he still had pressed to the man’s chest.

  Sully brushed his lips over Liam’s temple before gently easing out of his body. Liam made a sound of protest, then collapsed on the mattress and rolled onto his back, wearing a sated expression that Sullivan knew matched his own.

  Still fighting for breath, he rolled the condom off and dropped it on the floor. He’d get rid of it in the morning. Right now, he was too fucked-out to move. He settled in beside Liam and they lay silently on their backs, naked, still hard.

  After a beat, Sully rolled onto his side and pressed his head against Liam’s shoulder.

  After another beat, Liam wrapped his arm around him.

  The beat after that, Liam was fast asleep.

  Sully, on the other hand, remained wide-awake, unable to fight the undeniable truth that rose to the surface of his mind.

  Liam was right. He was a coward. Because what happened between them just now? It scared the shit out of him.

  He’d screwed other men before. Screwed a helluva lot of women too. And not a single one of them, male or female, had set his body on fire like this. Not a single one of them had evoked this feeling of pure belonging.

  It was too confusing. Too scary. Too bloody much for his brain to process. And when a knock sounded on the door, he was so grateful for the distraction that he lunged out of bed in a heartbeat.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “Pack up your shit,” was Noelle’s sharp reply. “We’re moving out.”

  Sully furrowed his brow. When he glanced at the bed, he saw Liam sitting up, equally puzzled.

  “Where we going?” Liam called at the door.

  “The compound.” Her voice held a rare note of joy. “Jim just regained consciousness.”

  Chapter 29

  Turtle Creek, Costa Rica

  “You look tired.”

  Cate had to smile as she met her father’s dark blue eyes. She’d figured his first words after regaining consciousness were going to be sharp ones of rebuke. Instead, he was studying her intently, concern etched into his every feature.

  “It’s four in the morning,” she answered, leaning forward to take his hand. “We flew out of Guatana the moment Sofia called to tell us you were awake.”

  Morgan stared at their intertwined fingers before lifting his gaze to her face. “Sofia said I was out for days.”

  Cate nodded. “We were all starting to get worried,” she confessed. “Do you remember anything?”

  He grumbled under his breath. “I remember getting shot.”

  Guilt pricked her belly. “What about when you were in the coma? Any dreams? Could you hear us talking to you?”

  “No. All I remember is the pain in my neck. Blacking out. And then waking up to Sofia poking me with needles.” He moistened his chapped lips with his tongue, then fixed her with a frazzled look. “Don’t tell me everyone sat at my bedside weeping about how much they fucking love me.”

  “They did.”

  Her confirmation made him frown. Now that was what she was used to—her father frowning in disapproval. It was a relief to see it again. Yes, his skin was still pasty white and his features were drawn, but the fact that he could grumble and scowl meant she had her dad back.

  “Don’t get mad at them. It’s not their fault they love you.”

  He snickered, but the effort it took quickly brought a pained flicker to his eyes. “My back fucking kills,” he admitted.

  “No kidding. The surgeons removed two bullets from it. And one from your neck.”

  He gave a slight wave of his hand, which was still hoo
ked up to an IV. “I already know all that. Tell me the rest.”

  “The rest?”

  “Yeah. The shit Noelle is all tight-lipped about. What happened after I went down?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. Crap. If Noelle hadn’t filled Jim in on the details, then Cate sure as hell didn’t want to. Jim was going to freak and she was tired of being the one with her neck on the line.

  “Noelle will fill you in later.” Ha. There. She’d slid the buck right back to her stepmother. Noelle was going to love that.

  Her answer only agitated Morgan even further. “What the fuck is everyone keeping from me?” he demanded. Then, without waiting for another reply, he yanked the IV right out of his wrist, making Cate flinch.

  “You can’t do that!” she protested. “Lie still.”

  “Screw that.” Her father was already throwing the thin white sheet off his body. He wore nothing but boxers beneath it, and Cate averted her gaze in embarrassment.

  “Would you quit being such a stubborn jerk? You’re not allowed to leave this bed until Sofia gives you the all-clear.” She gave his chest a gentle shove when he once again tried to move. “Lie down, Dad. I’ll tell you everything, okay? Just lie the fuck down.”

  “Don’t fucking swear,” he said automatically.

  “Hypocrite.”

  “Brat.”

  Both their mouths began to twitch. Yeah, everything was back to normal, all right.

  And yet . . . nothing was normal. Cate’s humor faded as she remembered all the horrible events that had transpired since the team had arrived in Guatana to save her ass.

  “Cate? What’s wrong?”

  She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and glued her gaze to them.

  “Sweetheart?”

  “People are dead,” she whispered.

  Wrong thing to say. Morgan was instantly attempting to get out of bed again. “Who?” he bit out. “Who did we lose?”

  “Lie down,” she begged. “Please.”

  After a beat, he went still. But he did slide up into a sitting position, rubbing days’ worth of beard growth with both hands. “Tell me,” he ordered.

  “Rivera sent hit squads after us,” Cate said in a shaky voice. “Isabel’s father was killed in prison. Ash’s grandmother was raped and murdered. Holden—”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “What about him?”

  “He came to Guatana to see you and help us out, and he . . .”

  The words got stuck in her throat. Jim and Holden had been close. They’d met nearly two decades ago when they were both Army Rangers. This was going to kill her father.

  “He what?” Morgan’s tone was sharper than a knife.

  Cate released an unsteady breath. “He was killed. Rivera’s people killed him.”

  Silence crashed over the room.

  Morgan scrubbed his hands over his face again. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.” Then he cleared his throat and met her sorrow-filled eyes. “Who else?”

  “That’s it. We got everyone else out of town in time.” Her heart clenched. “And you already know about Riya.”

  “Your journalist friend. The first casualty.”

  “Yes.” Agony burned her throat. “The first casualty of the war I started.”

  Her father reached out and pulled one of her hands off her lap. His cold palm covered her knuckles. “Sweetheart . . . Look at me.”

  It took a few seconds before she found the courage to look up.

  “You didn’t start this,” he said firmly.

  “I took that picture. If I hadn’t, Riya would still be alive. Holden would still be alive.”

  “Maybe not.” He shrugged, then winced as if the movement had caused him pain. “Someone would’ve eventually discovered that Rivera had faked his death. Maybe your friend Riya would’ve been the one to piece it together. Or maybe another journalist, another photographer. Men like Rivera bring war wherever they go. There would’ve been casualties regardless.”

  “But not our casualties.”

  His gaze became knowing. “That makes it better? If civilians you didn’t know had been the collateral damage?”

  “No,” she said grudgingly.

  “At least this way, we can put him down. Another journalist might not have been equipped to do that. We can.” His eyes glittered in fortitude. “And we will. For Holden. And for Riya.”

  Cate gave a weak nod. She wished she could be as certain as her father. But she wasn’t. Every attempt they’d made to find Rivera had failed miserably. Morgan’s coma had rendered him out of the loop. Once he realized just how ineffectual they’d been, his conviction might falter.

  “Get Noelle in here,” he told her. “I want to know what we’re doing to find that bastard.”

  “Later.” She firmed her tone. “Seriously, Dad. Can you please just rest for a few hours?”

  He opened his mouth to object but Cate held up her hand.

  “Everyone is asleep. You can start ordering them around in the morning.” A note of panic crept into her voice. “Please. Let’s wait until morning. I can’t think about any of this right now. I just need a few hours of . . . peace.”

  Something on her face had Jim’s eyes going soft. “All right,” he finally murmured. “I guess it’ll keep until morning.”

  * * *

  “Enjoy your long nap, old man?” Ash mocked as he stepped onto the terrace.

  Morgan was sitting in a chair around the large glass-topped table, looking a shade paler than a vampire. “Would’ve woke up sooner if I’d known you guys weren’t getting the job done.”

  Ash rolled his eyes on his way to Noelle, who sat at the other side of the table smoking a cigarette. “Morning, beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before lowering himself next to her.

  It was early. The sunrise was just peeking out over the top of the jungle. Below them, the pool and grounds were still illuminated by the outdoor lights where the sensors hadn’t been hit by the sun yet. Only the jungle birds and monkeys were awake.

  Ash winced when Noelle blew a stream of smoke right toward her husband’s face. “Rivera was waiting for you to wake up, asshole.” She shrugged. “At least your daughter’s still breathing. You can thank Ash for that.”

  Ash didn’t try to hide his surprised expression. “Cate took care of herself. I didn’t do squat other than argue that she didn’t belong in the field.”

  Noelle tapped her cigarette against the ashtray impatiently. “Have it your way, honey. I was trying to say something nice about your work down in Guatana in front of your boss, but if you don’t want to take that praise, I can shove my foot up your ass instead.”

  “I’ll take the praise,” Ash said wisely.

  Morgan was looking at the two of them with an inscrutable expression, so Ash made a small gesture that he hoped conveyed his I have no idea what your wife is trying to do message.

  “What’s the plan now?” Ash asked, changing the subject. “To draw Rivera out,” he clarified when neither Noelle nor Morgan jumped in right away.

  “He’s not leaving his hidey-hole,” Noelle drawled.

  “So why come back?” Morgan asked bluntly. “Because I woke up? I don’t need you here tending to me at my bedside.”

  “Do I look like a nursemaid, baby? We came back because in Guatana we were sitting ducks. Rivera had all the advantages and we had none.”

  Ash nodded. “If we’d stayed in Guatana, he would’ve picked us off, one by one.”

  “So we give him an easier target by stuffing everyone here?” Morgan spread his hand toward the sprawling mansion they all called home.

  Well, not all of them, at least not for now. Once Noelle had radioed the compound to report that everyone was moving out of Guatana, D and Kane had promptly moved the kids to an unknown location. Ash could tell that Cate
had been hurt to hear that, because she’d gone from Morgan’s bedside to her room without saying a word to anyone.

  He’d followed her upstairs but she hadn’t answered his knock and after ten minutes of fruitless silence, he’d left. But he hadn’t slept well at all. When he’d spotted Morgan on the terrace just now, he’d figured he might as well get his ass in gear and start planning. The sooner Rivera was dead, the sooner Cate would be safe. And maybe then the two of them could figure out what the hell was going on between them.

  Until then, he would concentrate on the barrier he could get rid of—Rivera—before contemplating the barrier he couldn’t move—Cate’s father.

  “Let’s pick a place, then,” Ash suggested. “Anywhere that Rivera’s sources are weak. We know he has contacts in the south and east.”

  “Do we have any idea where the hit on Isabel’s dad came from?” Morgan asked.

  “Boston mafia family,” Noelle supplied. “The Pistasellis.”

  “He doesn’t have strong contacts in New York, then, if he had to outsource it to Boston,” Ash mused.

  “Doesn’t matter where we go, he’s not going to come himself,” Morgan said with a shrug. “He’ll send someone.”

  “And that someone will eventually lead us back to Rivera,” Ash argued.

  “Using what bait?”

  They all knew which bait would be the most effective but none of them wanted to say her name out loud. Hell, Ash hated even thinking about it, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew the score.

  Rivera had a hard-on for Cate. He enjoyed the cat and mouse game he was playing with her and seemed to want to drag it out for as long as possible. That was why he was picking them off slowly instead of sending a rocket launcher to destroy this quasi-military compound.

  “Cate,” Ash said finally. “We use Cate as bait.”

  The words were thick in his throat. Forcing that admission out was more painful than he’d anticipated.