Chapter 9 #3
She murmured softly when she reached his abdomen and ribs, her touch gentling even more.
He had no idea intimacy could be so compelling, so overwhelming, better than sex…
well, almost. He grabbed her wrist, halting her, pushing back, stopping her without effort.
She froze, her eyes warm and luminous, just as affected as he was.
He hadn’t meant to let her feel how stubborn he was being, and he hadn’t expected that stubbornness to be reflected back at him, laced with determination.
God, he wanted her to feel so much more…
something inside him, something old, aching, and starved, softened for a beat.
Melted, and it scared the hell out of him.
“Maybe you should go to the hospital to make sure your liver and kidneys aren’t severely damaged.”
“I’d know if they were. I’m very in tune with my body. Comes with the territory.” He opened his eyes, his skin humming from pain and pleasure. “Besides, that guy hit like a girl.”
She snorted, then giggled, and he was so fucking charmed, he almost reached out and captured one of those silky strands of her hair between his fingertips. Her gaze met his, and he lost his breath for a moment.
Breakneck wasn’t prepared for the punch she delivered.
Eyes like that didn’t belong on this earth.
Eyes that seemed to shift with the light, with her breath, with her goddamn heartbeat.
A starburst of yellow-green in the center, bright as a flare, bleeding out into forest green, deepening at the rim, deep amusement there, that delectable mouth lifting.
His attraction deepened, went off the rails.
He absorbed her, watched her, liking the way she held his gaze, liking the intimacy way too much.
Eyes that looked at him like they saw something.
For one split, impossible second, his bullshit, all the noise, the self-loathing, the fear about who he really was, quieted.
Just…quieted.
It was enough to scare him more than any cartel round or canked op.
There was a sharp knock, and her amusement disappeared as they both looked toward the door.
One of the constables, Tyler, stood there.
He was frowning, and Breakneck had to wonder how long he’d been standing there.
His cornflower blue eyes met Breakneck’s, and there was challenge there, not threat but competition, then softness when he looked at Blair.
Oh, that was the lay of the land. Tyler had a thing for her.
He immediately didn’t like it.
“Yes?” Blair asked.
“The DEA guys are here. I still can’t get a hold of Darrow. He’s not answering his phone.”
“Okay, put the DEA in the conference room. We’re not waiting for Darrow.
” Her voice went hard and Breakneck figured there was some animosity there.
Why she didn’t know about his undercover op was baffling, especially for a 2IC, second in command.
Ice would never leave Preacher in the dark.
Those kinds of decisions got people killed.
She used the basin to rinse out the blood, turning the water pink when she squeezed it out. When Tyler didn’t move, she looked back at him. “I’ll be another ten minutes.” Her voice went a little clipped.
So, the feeling wasn’t mutual, and Blair didn’t like the way he hovered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, then left.
She focused on his hands. Picking one of them up, she washed it clean, careful over his bruised and ragged knuckles. He took advantage of the moment, allowing his fingertips to skim over her wrist and palm every chance he got. She didn’t linger on his other hand.
She partially rose, leaning over him to get some supplies. The scent of her was a mixture of magnolia, horse, leather, and something so sweet he wanted to taste it on his tongue.
He hissed in a breath and endured the stinging cotton gauze soaked with antiseptic on the cuts to his face, shoulders, torso, and hands. She set some butterflies on the gash at his temple, and one on the skin just above his collarbone.
“That should do it,” she whispered, rising. She reached for a black T-shirt with the division insignia on the left-hand side, a stylized head of a stallion, and a maple leaf with WILD in gold letters underneath it.
“I’ve got to go get set up for this conference.
Help yourself to the break room. There’s coffee and maybe a donut or two, unless Beef has been there.
” She stopped at the doorway. Her face softened, those lips parting.
“Thank you for saving my life and the lives of everyone here, keeping a shipment from the cartel, and risking your life in the process.” She took a hard breath.
“The way you handled yourself. I’ve never seen anything like it. The RCMP is in your debt.”
“You, Blair? What about you?” He hated that he was asking but felt powerless.
She gripped the door frame as if needing support. “Let’s keep this professional,” she whispered, moved, then stopped. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something that might just kill him, thought better of it, murmuring, “I’ll see you up there.”
She disappeared, but her presence lingered in the room where he’d met the kind of woman who brought a man to his knees without even trying.
The second he’d had her pinned beneath him, that soft, warm body tucked under his, when he’d lifted his head and stared into those kaleidoscope eyes.
He didn’t stand a chance.
When he came out of the room, Kodiak was walking toward him. He tried to wave him off, but the man laughed softly. “No way, kid. Pull up the shirt.”
Breakneck sighed and complied because their medic was a persistent bastard when it came to his teammates.
“Fuck.” He gently touched Breakneck’s lower abdomen, palpitated it, and Breakneck grunted at the pain, then Kodiak moved around to his lower back. “You experiencing any pain?”
Only around Blair. That thought slipped out. He looked down at the mottled bruises, then gave his teammate a wry look. “You might want to clarify that.”
Kodiak chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m talking about sharp or dull internal pain, not muscular or skin type.”
“No.”
“You’ll probably be pissing blood for a bit. If that persists—”
“I know the drill. I’ll tell you if my boo boos act up.”
Iceman walked up. “He good for duty?”
Kodiak nodded. “He’s going to feel it for a bit, but I warned him.”
“Good. We need him.” God, that made him feel so damn good. “They want us upstairs. Let’s go.”
They entered the conference room, and everybody expected Ice to be confrontational. He invented the word, but when he saw the DEA agents, he strode across the room, slamming them both into the wall. They were so startled that neither one of them moved.
“Where were you? Where was this infamous backup?” he ground out.
“Whoa there, Master Chief,” Blair said, inserting herself between the agents and Iceman.
Ice gave way. Breakneck didn’t know how she did it, commanding his boss without raising her voice, without hardening her expression, without needing anything except presence.
He’d seen generals and admirals flinch under Ice’s stare. Blair didn’t even blink.
Breakneck was so flabbergasted his mouth dropped open, every one of his brothers was shellshocked by not only her audacity, but her courage.
Ice’s pale eyes tracked her with the quiet, respectful recognition of a man who only deferred to one other woman on earth, his wife, Rose.
Breakneck felt something low and hot settle in his chest. He didn’t know what rattled him more. That Ice respected her…or that Breakneck suddenly cared if she respected him.
“She’s good,” Skull murmured under his breath.
Boomer elbowed him. “Shut up. Break’s gonna fall to his knees and propose.”
Breakneck didn’t take the bait, just raised his finger again. But damn if he didn’t feel something like pride settle into his bones.
Then the door slammed against the wall.
A man stormed in, tuxedo half-buttoned, hair slicked, smelling like expensive champagne and entitlement.
Blair turned unaffected. “Superintendent Darrow. We’re glad you could join us.”
Breakneck hadn’t thought the room could get more volatile. Then Darrow walked in, and Breakneck’s entire spine went tight.
“What the hell is going on in here?” he barked. “Sergeant Brown, why wasn’t I informed of this meeting?”