Taking the Heat (Page 5)

Taking the Heat (Shadow Stalkers #2)(5)
Author: Sylvia Day

He’d backed into the parking spot in front of the motel room and left the passenger door open. Keeping Layla between the vehicle and himself, he escorted her to the car, then rounded the back end of the Bronco and climbed behind the wheel. He headed straight for the highway.

“Thanks for this,” she said, referring to the unzipped sleeping bag he’d set on the floorboard. She dragged it up to her neck and snuggled into it.

“Recline the seat. Take a nap. If you’re hungry, there are egg, bacon, and salsa burritos in the bag. Coffee with way too much cream and sugar—just the way you like it—is right here.”

Instead of looking at the cup he pointed to, Layla kept on looking at him. “Are you okay?”

He took a sip of his overly hot black coffee. “After last night? I’m better than okay. I haven’t felt this good in years.”

“Liar.” Her exhale was audible. “What is this going to do to your career, Bri? How much trouble are you going to get into for this?”

“I’m not worried about it.” Not absolutely true, but mostly so. He’d invested a lot in his job. Shit, he had lost her over it. But that old argument between them had been about his life being on the line. Now, they were talking about hers. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t sacrifice to keep her safe.

“I am.”

“Don’t be.” He glanced at her. “The only thing you need to be concerned with is following my directions.”

She nodded, but still looked troubled. He wasn’t worried about her making his job harder. She knew the drill and she was an intelligent woman. She might give him a hard time about everything else, but when it came to his job and her safety, she’d do what needed to be done.

Silence followed, but when he looked at her, she was still watching him.

“Tell me about your dream last night,” he said.

She shook her head. “It was morbid.”

“I don’t care. It might do you good to talk it out.”

“I doubt it.” Her lashes lowered over her eyes. “Just remember you asked for it.”

With a sigh, she began. “You died in the car bombing. Everyone died except for me, and I was screaming at your corpse, telling you I’d known it would happen. That I knew you’d leave me behind. I was so mad that out of all people to be the sole survivor, it had to be me.”

“Jesus,” he breathed, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.

“I’m sure I had that dream because I was so damn happy to see you yesterday. I stepped out of the safe house and saw you and . . .” Her eyes fully closed on a harsh exhale. “I was too happy. You were running toward me and I thought it was for a different reason at first. Then, everything blew up and you hit the ground face-first at my feet. And I couldn’t cry about it, because I was too pissed off at you.”

Brian rolled his shoulders back, remembering the wounded animal noise she’d made while asleep.

“As you can see, I have issues,” she muttered, snuggling deeper into the sleeping bag.

Layla may have been ticked off at him in her dream, but the way she’d externalized her emotions wasn’t with anger. She had reached for him and held on as if she would never let go. Then she’d seduced him. Shredded him. Stripped him down to nothing but his need for her.

“It’s okay to be pissed off at me, baby,” he said. “I’m pissed off at myself. I shouldn’t have let you walk away.”

“It was for the best. We were both strong enough to break it off when we needed to.”

“Stubbornness isn’t strength. It’s f**king stupid. Living miserably without each other is stupid.”

“Have you been miserable, Bri?” She was looking at him again; he could feel it. “You asked me if I had anyone in my life, but you never said if you did.”

Glancing at her, he said, “You know better than to ask me that.”

“Because it’ll just make me jealous? I’ll get over it.” Her face gave nothing away. That was new for her. She’d once been so expressive, so open. But she’d been innocent then and life had dealt her some painful blows.

“There’s nothing to get over.”

“Still lovin’ and leavin’ ’em?”

He caught her gaze and held it. “No.”

Her lush mouth twisted wryly. “Sorry. Fuckin’ and leavin’ ’em?”

“No, damn it.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me. But don’t expect to interrogate me. It goes both ways, Bri.”

“Really?” he said grimly, his muscles hard with building anger and barely tempered jealousy. “Did you save your body for me, baby? Did you think of me at night and get yourself off? Were your fingers—maybe some toys—the only things to f**k that sweet, hot cunt of yours, because damned if you’d let another man touch what’s mine?”

“Ha!” She straightened. “As if you spent the last five years jacking off to memories of me. Jacob told me all about you, Bri. Tried to warn me off of crushing on you with stories of your many, many conquests. You can’t keep it in your pants.”

“Did those stories make you hot?” he purred, pissed off that she didn’t give him the credit he damn well deserved. “You sure asked about them often enough.”

“Fuck you.”

“Only you.”

Layla shut up, her open mouth snapping closed. She glared at him.

“Say you don’t believe me,” he coaxed darkly, reaching between his legs to rub his palm over his cock.

“You’re a crazy-assed motherfucker if you’re serious.” Her voice was clipped and hard. “You sure found it easy enough to let my golden p**sy get away.”

“Letting you go was a lot of things, but easy sure as hell wasn’t one of them.”

“At what point did you realize you’d made a mistake?”

He breathed in and out carefully, trying to rein in his temper. “The instant before you walked out the door. I knew I couldn’t live without you.”

“But you did. For two years before that trip to Mexico screwed up my life.” She sat up and reached for her coffee.

“We hooked up before you had a chance to grow up. I felt like I’d pulled you straight out of high school into a marriage-like situation and you hadn’t had the opportunity to get your bearings or really figure out what you wanted.”

“Always trying to make all the decisions for me, because I’m just a kid.”

“What the fuck? I tore my heart out giving you the opportunity to make all the decisions you wanted.”

“And who made the decision that I needed those opportunities?” Putting the coffee down, she dug into the bag for a burrito and dropped it into his lap, then grabbed one for herself.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I decided you are. Eat.”

Brian cursed under his breath.

“I knew what I wanted, Bri—you. I knew there wasn’t another man in the world for me. I didn’t want to check out the scenery or waste time that could be spent with you.”

“Then why did you leave?” Keeping one hand on the wheel, he used his teeth to rip the foil wrapping off the burrito.

“You know why.”

“And you knew what I did for a living when we started.”

“You lied to me when you joined the Marshals Service.”

“Bullshit.”

“You never said anything about volunteering for the Shadow Stalkers!” She tore a chunk out of the burrito with violent gusto.

“I was qualified.”

She chewed angrily, then washed down her food with a large swallow of coffee. “You were also qualified as a security expert.”

He put the burrito down. Starting his own firm had been a dream he’d shared with Jacob. After his best friend died, Brian felt as if the dream had died, too. He couldn’t imagine going forward with the endeavor without Jacob on board. “Things changed.”

“You didn’t. You’re an adrenaline junkie with a hero complex.”

“And a big dick,” he lashed out, stung. “Don’t forget that.”

Her gaze bore into him. “Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Your p**sy doesn’t seem to mind.”

She flipped him off and resumed eating, canting her body toward the window.

He’d wanted to at least have a dialogue about his work with the Marshals Service Special Operations Group before she tossed out her ultimatum, but she’d said the discussion should have been held before he volunteered for SOG and she wasn’t staying with a guy who had a death wish.

“What about your painful truths, Layla? Your fear of abandonment kept you from trusting me. You were always laying out ultimatums, with the proof of whether or not I loved you hanging in the balance. You were always waiting for some excuse to say I wasn’t going to stick around after all.”

“And you gave it to me, didn’t you?”

“Look for something hard enough, you find it, whether it’s really there or not.”

Shrugging, she said, “People have baggage. When you love someone, you deal with it.”

“I was dealing with yours. You’re the one who couldn’t deal with mine.”

“You know what?” Layla pivoted on the seat to face him. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this. It really boils down to the fact that our personal issues conflict. What you require to be happy is exactly what makes me unhappy and vice versa.”

“And the fact that I need you and you need me?” he challenged. “What about that?”

“What about it? In forty-eight hours or so, I’m going to disappear and you’re going to face whatever the hell you’re going to face for going rogue with a witness.” With a sigh, she faced forward again. “We’ve been trumped by fate, Bri. Consider it a blessing. God knows we’re too stupid to stay away from something that’ll never work.”

Maybe, he thought savagely. But stupid or not, he wasn’t giving her up again without a fight.

Chapter 6

They holed up for the night in Joplin, Missouri. The motel Brian chose was cheap and in need of serious updating, but Layla was so relieved to get off her ass that she didn’t care. She stumbled into the room and collapsed on the bed face-first, pointing her toes to stretch out her legs.

She heard Brian bring the suitcases in and sighed with gratitude, eager to take a hot shower.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asked, his hand wrapping around her ankle and squeezing.

“A salad with grilled chicken or fish. Nothing fried. I can’t keep eating crap while sitting on my butt all day. I’m starting to feel icky.”

“Good call. I’ll be back in a bit. You know the drill.”

“Yes. Don’t answer a knock at the door, even if it’s you.”

He closed the drapes before leaving the room and Layla crawled off the bed. She repeated her preparations from the night before, wondering as she pulled out another disposable razor if Brian was thinking at all about the box of condoms they’d left in the trash in the other motel.

Condoms were something they’d never used. She’d always been on the pill and they’d both been too addicted to the feeling of total connection to put a barrier between them, not to mention how spontaneous they were. He probably thought she was still on birth control.

She wasn’t. What was the point when she wasn’t hav**g s*x?

Remembering his assertion that he’d been celibate since they broke up, Layla felt a surge of guilt. She’d taken lovers after they’d broken up. Enough to prove what she had always suspected—no other man would ever make her feel like Brian did. She’d found men who were similarly attractive, men who had dark and ravenous appetites, men with experience and the patience to make sure she had a good time. But sex was just sex without love, no matter how good it was. She’d never gotten over the feeling that she was in bed with the wrong guy.

She took a long, leisurely shower. She shaved her legs smooth and rubbed the motel’s complimentary lotion into her skin. Anticipation thrummed through her veins, along with the steady flow of adrenaline brought on by their circumstances and the desperation of knowing they were only two days away from losing each other again.

When she left the bathroom, she found Brian sprawled on the bed in just his jeans. He’d freed the buttons on his fly and sat with his back against the headboard and his bare feet crossed at the ankles. Holding the remote in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, he was watching the news until she came out. When he looked at her, his eyes became dark and hot with want.

“Feel better?” His voice was low. Rough.

Layla soaked up the sight of him. His chest was tanned from his daily shirtless runs, the broad expanse covered in a light dusting of hair that tapered into a thin line bisecting washboard abs. His arms were a work of art, the ripped biceps flexing when he lifted the water to his lips and drank deeply. His throat worked with each swallow, making her body tighten with need. She was starved for the feel of him.

He was so damn sexy. Deliciously powerful and virile.

She nodded.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He licked a drop of water off his lower lip.

“How bad I want your mouth on my p**sy.”

His low growl made her n**ples hard. He came off the bed in an agile rush of movement. “Eat your dinner while I grab a shower. Then, I’ll eat you.”

The look he gave her made her n**ples hard.

His gaze lowered to her chest as he approached and stopped in front of her. “I’ve been thinking about licking your mouthwatering cunt since you stopped me last night. I fantasized about pulling over at a rest stop, dragging you into the back of the Bronco, and tonguef**king you until you screamed.”

“Brian.”