Inferno (SKALS) Page 13

  “Come on, baby. Give it to me one more time. I can’t hold on.”

  His voice was hoarse and strained, a raspy pant falling against her ear. His torment and desperation was clear. A few more plunges was all the coaxing her body needed. She cried out as the pleasure mounted and release barreled through her full force. Sebastian followed close behind. Clinging to him, she listened to his breathless roar and reveled in the powerful throb of his body as he came.

  He was both heaven and hell, the beginning and the end, but nothing was more beautifully broken than this man and the fragile bond they shared.

  ~*~*~*~

  Sebastian eyed the package in Rupert’s hands with no small measure of trepidation.

  “This came for you yesterday, sir,” the head of security explained. “But with everything else going on, I figured it would be best to wait until…” he trailed off in uncertainty.

  “Until what, Rupert?” he asked with a curious tilt of his head.

  “Until you’d cooled down some, sir,” the big man admitted.

  Snorting beneath his breath, Sebastian nodded. He had to give it to the guy. The guard had some balls. Few men would have dared to be so blunt. His amusement faded some as he took the small parcel and turned it in his hands. It sucked that things had gotten so bad that he would regard something so mundane with so much suspicion. Its lightness did nothing to alleviate his worries. He knew better than most that explosives could bear little to no weight. Frowning, he scanned the address once again. Whoever had sabotaged Taylor’s car had to know he’d demand to see the security footage from that day, and thanks to the storeowner demanding they provide a warrant, there’d been more than enough time for someone to waylay the package.

  Giving them time to obtain the proper paperwork hadn’t been high on Marx’s list of priorities.

  Lifting the package to his nose, Sebastian took a deep whiff. It might look ridiculous, but it was better to play it safe than sorry. Nothing but the heady scent of the heavy brown paper wrapping met his nose. It was a small comfort to say the least. Nodding, he tucked the parcel under the crook of his arm.

  “Thank you. Is there anything else I should be aware of?” he asked, returning his steady gaze to Rupert.

  “No, sir. I was a bit thrown off by the homecoming arrangements last night, but things have been quiet and calm today, per usual.”

  Raising a brow, he regarded the other man. “Don’t get used to it. I can’t afford to have you or your men let your guard down. Things are heating up for me at work, and they will only get worse before they get better. I’m willing to pay more, but I need you to stay focused. It’s absolutely vital that you keep Taylor safe. There’s no room for mistakes.”

  “Understood, sir. I’m up for the challenge.”

  “See that you are,” Sebastian warned. “I would not take kindly to it should you disappoint me. She is my life, Rupert. I lose mine, you lose yours.”

  The guard paled some, but offered a mute nod of understanding. He didn’t know what it was about the man but, deep down, Sebastian liked him. He was affable, laid-back, and above all else, loyal. In many ways, the big Cajun reminded him of Henderson. Though they hadn’t been close, he’d never forget the way the former head of security had laid down his life to save Taylor’s. That kind of sacrifice and dedication was hard to come by anymore. People usually choose the easy way out, but there was a fierceness beneath Rupert’s friendly exterior. Perhaps he’d lucked out twice. The jagged scar stretching from the man’s eye down his jaw suggested he was a fighter who survived.

  Reaching over, he clapped the strapping Cajun’s shoulder. “I am a difficult man to get along with, Rupert, but you’ve served my family well. I’m glad to have you here.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. Enjoy your day.”

  He wished the man the same and headed toward the small guard shack stationed near the front of the property at the gate. Unlike the garage, it wasn’t attached to the house and far enough away that if he got blown to smithereens Taylor wouldn’t be impacted. At least not physically.

  The last thought made him wince and a heavy sorrow blanketed his heart. He didn’t know how—or why—but that woman loved him. There was no denying that. As submissive as she was in other areas, when it came to loving him, she was as devoted as she was fierce. No one had ever shown that to him. Ever. But great responsibility came with that love. He didn’t just have his own happiness and well-being to consider anymore. He had hers and their child’s.

  Knowing they would be parents soon was a strange and almost magical feeling.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Sebastian glanced up to see Taylor crossing the yard. The soft, white fabric of her sundress clung to her slender curves and accentuated the gentle sway of her body. He loved that thing. He couldn’t help the wistful smile that crept across his face as he watched her approach. The sunlight bounced off her hair, lighting her chestnut locks with golden, fiery highlights. He was hard-pressed not to admire the swell of her breasts, already fuller now and more round, but it was her smile and the devotion in her silvery eyes that sent a stab of desire straight to his groin.

  “Hey ya, handsome,” she murmured, leaning up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

  He closed his eyes with a quiet rumble of appreciation as she pressed a mug of fresh coffee into his hand.

  “You’ve been out here for a while now. Is everything okay?”

  Peering down at her, he felt his lips twitch with a knowing smirk. “If you are asking how your beloved bodyguard is, he’s still alive and quite well.”

  She rolled her eyes at his barb. “Good because you have absolutely no reason to be jealous. You and I both know you’ve completely ruined me for other men.”

  His smile was unrepentant as he carefully snaked his arm around her waist and drew her against the front of him. “Mm. Then my greatest mission in life has been accomplished. I can die a happy man.”

  Much to his surprise, she batted his chest, though the blow was light and suggested play. Unsure what to make of it, he cocked a brow, frowning as he stared down at her.

  “You’ll do no such thing. There’s no dying for you, mister.”

  “I don’t intend to, darling,” he assured. “But you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  “When it comes to that I do,” Taylor stated firmly.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. It was kind of cute when she stood her ground. That type of behavior wouldn’t always fly, but this time around, it was for a good cause. At least in her eyes. Wrapping his arm tighter, he kissed her before releasing her again.

  “Your hormones are making you lippy,” he warned with a wink.

  “They’re also making my breasts ache.”

  Wiggling a brow, he tucked the package back under his arm and groped one of the tender swells. Taylor flushed, her eyes darting around the yard as he kneaded the plump mound without shame.

  “Is that so?” he asked, rolling his palm across the hardening bud of her nipple.

  “Sebastian!”

  Exasperation laced her voice as she tried nudging his hand away. Surging forward, he caught her waist again, careful not to spill his coffee. Pulling her tight, he trapped her body against his and drew her earlobe between his teeth.

  “Mine,” he reminded her in a husky growl. Her shiver didn’t go unnoticed. Relinquishing her, he raised a questioning brow. “Understood?”

  “It was never forgotten,” she replied softly.

  “Mm. Good answer.”

  Her attention shifted from his eyes to the parcel trapped under his arm. “What do you have there?”

  “The surveillance tapes from the grocery store. It won’t take me long to go over them, but it needs done. I told you whoever did this to you was going to pay and I meant that.”

  Some of the happiness fled her rounded features, but Taylor nodded in grim understanding. “Just promise me you won’t do anything rash. Whatever you decide to do, be careful and think things through.”

>   A small surge of annoyance swept through him. His first instinct was to shoot her request down. Then came the urge to fight back with rebuttal and denial, but the truth was he didn’t always think things through. Not when it came to her. Unfortunately, as much as Taylor inspired the best in him, she also provoked the worst. One wrong word, one wrong look cast in her direction and he was ready for attack. She knew this as well as he did. Sighing, he raked a hand over his head and looked away.

  Maybe it would be best if he waited for Josh.

  ~*~*~*~

  Sebastian tapped the end of his pen against his desk, his mind a million miles away. The sun filtered through the lone window gracing his office, speaking of another day done and gone. Heart heavy, he scanned the bleak desert landscape and tried to ignore his longing to go home. Shifting his attention back to the computer, he bit his cheeks and studied the face staring back at him. There was something familiar about the man, something vague that he couldn’t quite place. Tapping his lip, Sebastian brushed the nagging sensation aside and committed every detail to memory.

  Whether he knew it or not, Gavin Bradshaw had fucked with the wrong family, and the distinguished silver hair, ice-blue eyes, high cheekbones, and slight cleft marking his chin made his an easy face to remember now that he was a marked man.

  The angles on the security footage hadn’t revealed much. Gavin had approached Taylor’s vehicle, briefcase in hand, and disappeared from view. Though his actions remained shielded, it was hard to dispute the facts when he was the only one who’d drawn close to her car. It also raised suspicions Sebastian wasn’t prepared to contend with.

  Whoever this man was, he knew what to look for and what to avoid when it came to cameras.

  Digging deeper had been of little use. The man was a smokescreen with no past which meant that wasn’t even his real name. With no visible ties to any government agencies, his reasons behind rigging the accident were unclear. Much like that gaunt fuck, Frank Burrel, Gavin was a ghost who’d appeared out of nowhere. One who seemed intent on haunting his ass at every turn.

  Frowning, Sebastian wondered what had happened to his previous stalker as he cleared his history and shut the laptop screen. As always, he had too many questions and not enough answers. It was possible the man was retaliating for some operation SKALS had run in the past, but with everything going on, it seemed more likely the accident was a warning, a far from subtle message to avoid proceeding with their future agenda. That was where Marx had him bent over a barrel and twisted sideways.

  The man was smart. He stayed behind the scenes. He pulled the puppet strings and called the shots, but Sebastian and his team were the ones who were out there day to day. Marx was the wizard, but they were the projection.

  His was the face people saw and, ultimately, the scapegoat they blamed. Last night had proven that much. Scrubbing a hand over his eyes, he snorted. Maybe he should needle the bastard for a raise.

  Annoyed, he glanced up when his office door swung open without warning. His glare locked with Marx’s briefly before he turned his attention back to tucking away the last of the files off his desk.

  “Can I help you?” he asked flatly.

  “As a matter of fact, you can. It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal. I was hoping you and your fiancée would be generous enough to fix that.”

  He gaped at the man. After what they’d been through the night before? Was he serious? Regaining his composure, Sebastian shook his head.

  “No. Tonight’s not a good night,” he said, turning his attention back to the stack of paperwork.

  “Nonsense. Tonight is a good of a night as any. I need to see how she is holding up under the strain and assure she isn’t going to crack. I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s time I see for myself just how beneficial this living arrangement of yours really is.”

  “Marx…” He started to object, only to be cut off by a sharp slice of the commander’s hand.

  “Not another word. Get your things together and let’s go.”

  He closed his eyes with a miserable snort. That settled it. Any remaining doubts he might have had were gone. God, or any other powers that might be, truly hated him.

  Sebastian’s stomach continued its relentless churning as the desert started to give way to the familiar streets of Flagstaff. The worry and fatigue he’d heard in Taylor’s voice continued to plague him. She’d been through enough lately. The pressure and strain of dealing with Marx was the last thing she needed.

  His eyes searched the rearview mirror. The commander was hot on his tail, the gleaming silver Jaguar’s bumper mere inches away from his own. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles whitened. The bastard better pray he didn’t hit his car. Scrubbing a hand through his curls, he refocused on the road, trying to find a way to buy Taylor more time.

  The answer came in the form of a quick mart on the edge of town. He whipped into the parking lot without warning, wincing as the Benz’s tires gave a sharp squeal of protest. A thick cloud of dust obscured the road as the Jaguar lost traction and Marx skidded in sideways behind him. Giving an exasperated roll of his eyes, he threw the car into park and yanked the keys from the ignition.

  “What the hell are you doing, Baas?” the SKALS director barked. The canyons on his craggy face deepened in a show of annoyance, and the heavy line of his eyebrows inched even lower.

  Sebastian’s cheeks flamed at the excuse that came to mind, but determination kept his pride at bay. “She needs some fucking feminine hygiene products or she’s going to bleed all over my furniture. Do you want to buy them for her?”

  Marx’s mouth slammed shut with an audible snap. His broad face contorted into a disgusted grimace, and he shooed Sebastian away from the side of his car with a gruff wave of his hand.

  A short while later, he rolled through the gates with Marx right behind him. Biting the inside of his cheeks, Sebastian parked in the drive, exited his car, and slammed the door shut. This was not the evening he had planned. He glanced over as Rupert approached.

  “Is there a problem here, sir?” The head of security looked between the two of them and shifted his rifle. Concern lined his scarred visage making the pale lines stand out even brighter against his skin.

  Marx’s eyes blazed with unspoken fury as Sebastian let the question hang between them. Lifting his chin, he regarded the SKALS commander, well aware of the cold gleam fueling his own gaze. The corners of his mouth twitched. It would be so easy right now. So damn easy.

  “Sir?” the guard asked again.

  For a brief moment, he considered it. If Marx hadn’t announced his plans for the evening on the way out, he would have followed through. There were too many witnesses, too many innocent people. Marx had his own guards planted in a car outside the house. Now wasn’t the time, but the man’s crimes were far from forgotten. Taking a slow step back, Sebastian spread his palms and forced a tight smile.

  “Not yet, Rupert. My boss decided to join us for dinner this evening. We will see how long that invitation lasts.”

  “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, Agent Baas?”

  Ignoring the director’s question, he clapped Rupert on the shoulder on his way past and signaled for Marx to follow with a sharp jerk of his head.

  CHAPTER 7 ~

  Taylor smoothed her hands over the loose, simple black dress she’d chosen and regarded her complexion one last time. She frowned seeing the ghostly pallor haunting her face. She tried pinching her cheeks to bring back some of the color but to no avail. Her heart hammered frantically in her chest as she hurried back into the kitchen. Sebastian had sounded beyond stressed on the phone, and the sparse contents she had to choose from after not taking anything out to thaw certainly wasn’t helping to calm her nerves. She hoped Marx was a fan of sausage fried with potatoes and onions.

  Hearing the whir of the garage door, she turned and wrung her hands, her stomach rolling. Uncertainty paralyzed her. Did she hurry to greet him as usual o
r give him his space in front of his boss? All she had to go by was his past expectations. She edged toward the laundry room, her ears straining. Hearing nothing, she pulled the door open and froze.

  Tension lined Sebastian’s forehead as he jerked the belt to his overcoat free and his eyes locked with hers. They weren’t just cold; they were tortured, haunted, and full of something she just couldn’t read. Marx loomed behind him, his massive shoulders all but filling the door leading into the garage.

  Reaching out, she took Sebastian’s dress coat and draped it over the hook while he kicked out of his boots. The anger and tension rolling off him was strong enough to be an entity all of its own. Closing her eyes, she sent up a quick prayer that she got through the night without making things worse.

  “Dinner will be done in a few minutes, if that is okay,” she said, before daring a peek at his boss. “Hello, Marx, sir. It’s nice to see you again.”

  He grunted, one of his thick brows creeping toward his hairline. “Is it?”

  Taken aback by the rudeness, her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to come up with an appropriate answer. “I…”

  “Make yourself useful and go fix us a drink, Taylor,” Sebastian ordered, cutting her short. “I’ll take some tea.”

  “Scotch, neat if you have it.”

  Still reeling from the curt instructions, she bit her tongue and headed for the kitchen. Her skin prickled as the men followed behind her. Sebastian reclined a hip against the counter beside her, but it was Marx’s heavy gaze that tracked her every move.

  “Dinner smells good.”

  She whirled at the soft rasp of her fiancé’s voice. Clinging to the hope the small compliment offered, she smiled. He didn’t return the gesture, but the look in his eyes softened before he lifted the lid to peek inside the skillet.

  “I certainly hope there is more to it than whatever that is,” Marx said, drawing her attention. The sudden shift caused the room to pitch and she squinted against the motion as the colossal man rubbed his belly. “I’m starving.”