Nauti Dreams (Nauti #3)

Nauti Dreams (Nauti #3) Page 7

He was going to take her. She could feel it. She wasn’t going to escape this time. Last year he had been kind, even for him, and let her go. This time, he wasn’t letting her go.

“Natches.” She breathed his name out in protest as he tore his lips from hers, pressed kisses along her neck, moved to the heaving mounds of her breasts.

Her nipples ached for him. For his mouth, his tongue.

“I should spank you,” he growled. “Damn you, Chay. You knew better than to come back here. I know you did.”

Yes, she had, and she’d had no choice but to return. But she would have anyway. She knew she would have, because the fight to stay away from him had been too hard. It had been more than she could bear.

One more assignment. Just this last operation and then—they would have time then. Not now.

She shook her head as she arched to him. Now wasn’t the time. She couldn’t divide her attention like this. She would end up getting killed.

His mouth buried between her breasts, his tongue licking, stroking as she moaned his name. She needed. Just one more taste of him, then she would be strong.

“Damn you.” Suddenly, his head jerked up. “Why are you here, Chay?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t drawing him in to this. It wasn’t happening.

“Just questions,” she panted. “Follow-up. I have to follow up.”

She was going to have to do some heavy talking if he ever found out where those questions would lead.

“Liar.” The accusation was soft, wickedly knowing. “You can’t lie to me, Chay.”

He pressed her legs apart with his and the toy; he still had that damned toy. He stroked it over the damp cotton that shielded her from him.

“Let’s play a game,” he whispered. “I ask a question, you tell the truth, and I give you something you’ll really like.”

“Kiss me, Natches.”

As he had once bragged, his kisses were potent.

He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers.

“Scared?” he asked softly, his eyes knowing.

“Let me get drunk on you,” she urged. “Just kiss me.”

“Just kiss you?” The head of the toy pressed more firmly against her hungry core. “But, Chay, you’re so wet and so wild beneath me. Let’s play my little game first.”

She arched and cried out as he pulled back.

“First question.” He licked over the top of a breast revealed by the material he nudged lower with his chin. “Did DHS send you here?”

Okay, that one was easy.

“Yes,” she answered carefully.

A soft approving murmur against the curve of her breast and he was nudging the cup of her bra lower to lick at her nipple. Heat sizzled in her veins and sent her hips thrusting, grinding against the toy he held pressed to her panties.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Am I involved?”

Was he? She didn’t think he was. He shouldn’t be. She could be honest there.

“No.” She lifted her hips again, wanting more. Damn him, she was honest. Reward time here.

He nipped at her nipple and nearly sent her into orgasm.

“Why are you here?”

Her lips parted to answer, to spill her guts just for another taste of the pleasure he could give her.

“Follow-up.” She moaned.

“Hmm, Chay, my little liar.” He pulled the toy back. “Come on, baby; fess up.”

Her eyes opened as she stared back at him, aching, hurting for him.

“Follow-up,” she repeated, the tormented whisper dragged from her throat. “It’s the only reason I’m here.” And it was partially the truth. Enough of the truth, and all he needed to stay safe.

He knelt above her. She watched hungrily as, tossing the toy aside, he loosened his belt, unsnapped his jeans, then lowered the zipper slowly. She licked her lips, her hands poised to help him, to catch the heavy length of his erection when it was free. To taste it. To fill her mouth with it.

“Why are you here, Chay?” She barely missed the hardening of his voice.

“Follow-up.” She felt dazed, off balance, impatient. Like an addict anticipating a fix.

And just that fast he rolled away from her, moved to his feet, and was fixing his jeans, his expression still, silent with anger.

Damn. There went the fix. Her body was screaming out in protest, reminding her how mean she was being to it. How long had it been now since she had known his possession? Five years, two months, three days, and how many hours, she thought morosely.

“I guess that means I don’t get any more rewards.” She sighed as she adjusted her skirt and top. She didn’t bother to roll from the bed. “Lock the door behind you if you don’t mind. I may need some privacy after you leave.”

He glared at her. The next thing she knew, the thin cord was jerked from the base of the dildo and as she watched in horror, he tore it in half.

“Oh my God. Natches, you didn’t do that.”

“If you need privacy, then by God you can make do with your fingers. That’s what you’ve reduced me to.” He tossed the pieces to the floor. “When you’re ready to tell me the fucking truth, you know where to find me.”

With that, he stalked out of the room. She stared at the floor in disbelief then at the door as the echo of the main door slamming penetrated her mind.

He broke her toy and left?

She was going to kill him.

THREE

Somerset and Lake Cumberland appealed to Chaya in a way that had surprised her. Arriving ahead of the Homeland Security team, in advance preparation more than a year ago, she had been taken aback by the friendliness of the citizens and the relaxed, peaceful atmosphere of the mountains surrounding the town.

There was serenity here. Not that there wasn’t crime, or criminals, of course. The theft and attempted sale of the missiles last year was proof enough. No, it was something else. There was a quiet, easygoing feel to the area, and she had loved it.

She had missed it since the team had left last year. She had missed the community, and she had missed Natches. Unfortunately, she had missed Natches more than anything else.

And Timothy had known Natches was her weakness. That was the problem with having a boss as manipulating and calculating as Timothy Cranston. He knew the agents under him to their back teeth. Their strengths and their weaknesses. And he didn’t have a problem using both to his advantage.

Hell, she was supposed to be out of this. Right now, she should have been apartment hunting or something. She should have been getting her head straight, because it was something she hadn’t managed to do in five years.

She had managed to quit smoking again. It was a nasty habit, and breaking it hadn’t been easy. Timothy alone was an excuse to smoke. She bet half of his agents had picked up the habit only after having been assigned to his team.

This operation had obsessed Cranston though, worse than Chaya had ever seen him obsessed. Those missiles in the wrong hands would have been disastrous. And knowing that it had been Americans behind the hijacking and attempted sale had enraged Cranston. Finding out it had a connection to a much older investigation had made him rabid. They were so close he claimed, so close to finding the bastards he spent every waking moment of his life chasing.

He had pulled every string he could find and had broken more than one rule in that investigation last year. One of those strings was pulling in two ex-Marines onto the team. Locals known for their wild reputations and their ability to gather and filter local gossip. Dawg and Natches Mackay. And there had been the added benefit for Timothy of finally finding Natches Mackay’s “weakness” as he called it.

And that one she had to roll her eyes at. She was anything but his weakness. Natches wanted her. He would spend the night in her bed in a heartbeat and she knew it. She could have him. On his terms and by his rules. And that would mean dragging him into an investigation he had no business being a part of. That, she couldn’t find it within herself to do.

As she pulled her rental car into the parking lot of the local diner that the Mackay men were known to frequent, Chaya checked her weapon and breathed out a sigh of frustration.

She hated this. Hated the deception and the need for it. And even more, she hated being under Natches’s radar once again. Especially after he broke her toy. And here she was on assignment. It wasn’t as though she could just go out and buy a new one.

She checked her rearview mirror and there he was. That wicked black jeep pulling into the back entrance and stopping, the man behind the wheel watching her from behind dark glasses.

He hadn’t approached her since he had stomped from her hotel room days before. But he had been following her since she left the hotel that morning. He had hung back, stayed distant just as he had the year before. He just watched, and just made her as nervous as hell.

Parking the sedan, Chaya gathered her purse and the heavy file she’d brought with her before stepping out into the crisp autumn air.

She could feel his eyes on her back as she moved to the entrance of the diner. Intense, blazing. The feminine core of her had been reawakened by that look over a year ago, and now, after knowing his touch again, it didn’t seem inclined to go back to sleep.

She pushed her way into the diner and stood for a moment, getting her bearings as all eyes turned to her. Suspicious, curious, amused. She latched onto the amused gaze of Sheriff Ezekiel Mayes before striding across the large room.

His hawklike eyes followed her progress through the room as he rose slowly to his feet. The dun-colored sheriff’s uniform showed off a body in peak condition for a man of thirty-six years. Dark brown hair was military short and emphasized the strong planes and angles of his masculine face.

“Agent Dane.” He nodded as she took her seat and laid the heavy file on the table in front of her, then he returned to his seat.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Sheriff.” She tried out her best business smile, but at the narrowing of his eyes, she assumed it hadn’t gone off quite as planned. “I know it was short notice.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He picked up his coffee and took a drink before setting the cup on the table and motioning to the waitress as she moved by. “Becca, we’ll need more coffee over here.”

“Gotcha, Zeke.” The waitress gave Chaya a quick, suspicious look before moving away.

“Have you had lunch yet?” he asked Chaya then.

“I’m fine. I just have some questions I needed to ask and a few things I’d like to go over with you before we head out to begin these interviews.”

Why Timothy had arranged for this sheriff to tag along with her she wasn’t certain. Ezekiel Mayes was nobody’s fool. He’d spent five years as a homicide detective in Los Angeles before returning to his hometown and running for sheriff. He was suspicious by nature, perceptive, and when he had learned an operation had been conducted without his knowledge by the DHS last year, he had been in D.C. screaming in the faces of men with enough power to scald Cranston’s ass.

Mayes had some small amount of pull there, Cranston had learned, and he knew exactly how to wield it. Proof was in the fact that she was working with him now.

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. The quote whispered through Chaya’s mind, and not for the first time. Cranston was playing a very dangerous game here, and Sheriff Mayes was but one of the potential enemies that he could make.

“Coffee, Zeke.” Becca, the waitress, set the cup down before turning to Chaya. “You need anything else?”

“No, thank you.” She shook her head, wishing she could find a way to still the nerves in her stomach as she lifted the coffee to her lips.

Becca nodded and moved off, but the sheriff’s gaze never left Chaya.

“Cranston’s sunk to a new low.” Mayes leaned back in his chair and regarded her with sharp golden brown eyes.