Under Fire (Elite Force #3)(30)
Author: Catherine Mann

She pushed through the layers of fog, desperate to wake up and make her way to safety before the roof caved in on top of her. She needed to get underneath the furniture or to a doorway.

Except none of that made sense, because she wasn’t in the Bahamas anymore. She was in Florida now, rebuilding her life and her nerves.

But she could swear Liam was with her, the scent of him, the intense energy he brought into a room. Something that hadn’t changed in six months apart, something that haunted her dreams.

And oh God, how her dream felt so erotically real right now. She was in bed. With Liam. His whipcord-lean body over hers. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, anticipate the feel of his mouth on her skin.

Her legs thrashed at the covers, tangling in the sheets, her long T-shirt riding up until the canvas texture of his uniform abraded sensually against her bare legs. Want rippled through her until she arched her back to press more firmly against him. What harm was there in indulging herself in a dream?

“Rachel.” His raspy voice stoked her fantasies.

The man could talk her to an orgasm with the husky suggestiveness in the way his tongue caressed her name.

“Liam,” she moaned, and oh God, she really had spoken out in her sleep. The veil between sleep and reality became translucent, the two worlds blending. Fear gripped her that if she woke up, she could lose this chance to have Liam, even if only in a dream realm.

She twisted her fingers in the sheets to hold on to the nighttime delusion a while longer, long enough to assuage the ache between her thighs. Completion hovered so close, until the need to finish clawed through her painfully. It had been so long since she’d wanted someone this much.

Since losing Caden, infrequent sex had merely been about release. This craving for Liam went so much deeper… and just the word deeper made her want more. Now. Fantasies were private and unlimited…

She threaded her fingers through his hair, testing the texture. Damp? From rain? Details intruded on her dream state until—

“Rachel,” he hissed in her ear, his hand clamping over her mouth. “Shhh. Wake up and stay quiet. And for God’s sake, quit moving like that.”

Okay, domination was not her idea of sexy.

Her eyes snapped open. He loomed over her, tall and lean, his tensed body covering her. His leg pressed between her legs, and it was all she could do in her half-awake state not to wriggle against the sweet pressure that should have faded in light of whatever was going on.

A low moan of pleasure slipped from her lips anyway.

His hand stayed clamped over her mouth, gently, but unmistakable in its message. His chest pumped against her with ragged breaths. His head dipped toward her. She swallowed hard, and God help her, if he kissed her right now, she wouldn’t stop him, and to hell with anything else. Her body arched into him before she could think, much less stop herself.

His voice caressed her ear. “Rachel, honey, you’re killing me here.”

The hard length of him pressed into her hip, letting her know he hurt every bit as much as she did from this unconsummated attraction. As much as she wanted to lose herself in the moment, in the answering heat radiating off him, reason began to filter through.

“Liam?” she whispered. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“You have to trust me and stay really quiet,” he answered softly. “We need to leave without alerting anyone. Now. Get dressed fast and follow me out.”

Passion turned to a frightening burn. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

She nodded under his hand and he rolled off her fluidly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his broad back to her.

A big black gun was strapped to his waist alongside a knife.

Oh God.

She slipped from under the covers and padded to her small bag quickly in the shadowy room. There was no time for modesty. Still, she turned away from Liam. She whipped the overlong T-shirt over her head and yanked a T-shirt and jeans from her backpack. He stepped up alongside her so quietly she almost yelped—then remembered the no-talking edict.

Silently, he passed her gym shoes and socks. She dropped to the bed and yanked them on. Tying the laces, she realized Disco had never made a sound during this whole encounter. He always, always alerted her to strangers approaching. Her heart lurched until she saw her dog standing just behind Liam. The Lab’s black coat had blended into the darkness.

Now the two of them stood like sentinels between her and whatever waited outside that had stirred Liam to such extreme action. Her stomach tumbled over itself with nerves. It was one thing to lead a search for bodies in the aftermath of disaster. Another to be on the run as her world crumbled around her feet.

Her life was spiraling out of control rather than settling. But she’d brought Liam into this, because for some unknown reason, she trusted him more than anyone. That meant following him now.

Swallowing hard, fully dressed, she turned toward him and nodded.

Liam jerked his head toward the hall without a word, and as she walked through the house, she realized that all the blinds had been drawn. No one could see out—or in. Disco’s nose swiveled left hard and fast, causing Rachel to stop short. She eyed the line of his attention to the living room—and gasped.

Sylvia Cramer lay stretched out on the sofa. With her hands folded over her chest and her upswept auburn hair only a bit mussed, she appeared to be—dead? Liam glanced back at her, his eyebrows pinched together, but he didn’t show the least surprise or interest in Sylvia. Rachel grabbed her dog’s collar, hair rising on her arms. Then she realized—thank God—Sylvia’s chest rose and fell evenly in deep sleep.

Now that was almost strangest of all. The OSI agent just taking a nap? In the middle of an assignment? She checked the clock hanging on the wall over the television armoire and saw it was only three o’clock in the morning. She’d slept only two and a half hours. Bullfrogs sang a full nighttime chorus outside.

Liam held up a hand, motioning for her to stay still. He crossed to Sylvia with steps so silent it unsettled her more than a little. Scooping up the sleeping agent, he carried her through the safe house and back to Rachel’s room. Through the open door, she saw him place Special Agent Cramer on the bed and pull the covers over her. If anyone came in, they would assume it was Rachel.

Okay, he mouthed to Rachel a second before he wrapped his fingers around her arm, strong, gentle… insistent. His eyes spoke louder than any words. We need to go.

Tugging her attention from the oddly sleeping agent, she padded softly through the house until Liam reached the garage. Opening the door, he revealed two vehicles, both facing nose out, as if preset for a speedy exit. The closest, a nondescript blue sedan, was parked beside a dark blue Suburban with tinted windows. He motioned her toward the latter, on the far side.