Extracted: A Thrilling Romantic Suspense / Action-Adventure Romance (Blood Brothers)

Chapter 1

It’s her.

Without a doubt, one-thousand-fucking-percent, it was her.

Dallas lifted the beer to his lips and sucked back the amber liquid. The setting sun singed the back of his neck but he didn’t move to the vacant chair adjacent to him. Movement could draw her attention.

He kept his eyes on her, studying her, from the perfect lines of her face all the way down to her sleek golden legs. If perfection had a picture, it would be of Gemma Turner.

She wore a loose-fitting white dress that exposed the bronze skin of her shoulder. The material accentuated the swell of her breasts, the neckline dipping too low for his comfort on the patio full of dudes. The hem of the dress rested midthigh, and beige-colored sandals added a few inches to her short stature. Her ebony hair hung in loose waves to her waist. Even from where he sat, a good twenty-five feet away, the sight of her dark eyelashes and cerulean-blue eyes made his heart stop.

She let out a laugh while she stood conversing with a younger couple, a sound he’d only heard from her delicious lips a few times but was nonetheless embossed in his brain.

Of all the places for him to run into his once-a-year-if-that fuck buddy. He certainly hadn’t expected to see her in Cali, Colombia. Add in that he was at a mansion turned hotel in the mountains and the likeliness of their encounter was even slimmer.

Anger expanded inside him. Undoubtedly, she was here doing whatever work she kept so damn secretive.

His pulse revved beneath his skin, urging him out of his seat. Now she couldn’t just take off. Now he might get some answers.

He placed his beer on the glass tabletop and moved toward her. He knew he needed to sit his ass down. Remember he was on a job. Any reason the cagey little seductress was here was one he didn’t need to know about.

But nothing could keep him away.

Not the job he was working. Not the fact that he should be pissed at her for vanishing after every time he got between her legs. Not even the fact that she’d run from him yet again. The thought of being closer to her flesh was too tempting. He needed to ease the torture her memory inflicted on his mind.

Because one thing about Gemma—she never turned him down. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. She could just walk away afterward a helluva lot more easily.

She turned away from the couple and breezed inside the stone building. Her dark locks bounced off her shoulders, taunting his fingers, which wanted to run through the silky strands. Her ass swung side to side as her high heels clomped over the polished tile.

Anticipation churned in his gut as he followed her, the need to have his hands on her body so great it made his blood thicken and his cock go hard. Gemma wasn’t his, but goddamn he couldn’t seem to get that message through to his manhood.

She strode across the main lobby toward the large floor-to-ceiling doors that opened to the side patio.

He couldn’t stop her right in the lobby and talk to her. Even though the area was free of guests, he couldn’t chance someone spotting him. Risking her safety wasn’t an option.

His leather loafers moved soundlessly behind her. His gaze landed on a shallow nook between the window and the interior wall. A door handle stuck out from it. Likely a utility or storage room.

The distance between them shrunk as he picked up the pace. He caught her wrist. Her arm stiffened in his hold and she whirled around, a sharp gasp squeaking from her lips. Her big blue eyes rounded on his face—shock and... panic?

“Dallas,” she croaked.

He towed her toward the nook, opened the door, and rushed her inside. The left side of the closet allowed enough space for both their bodies, and a pile of cleaning supplies took up the right. The sweet scent of her perfume, raspberries and lemon drops, flooded the enclosure. A little bit of light shined through the cracks of the door.

The small quarters forced his body against hers. She pressed her hands to his sides as if for balance.

He was too close. Too close not to touch her. Too close not to taste her.

He cupped her jaw and sealed his mouth over hers. Her warm, soft lips parted and a cry escaped her throat as she rose onto her toes. She snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him to her. The heat of her tongue flicked into his mouth, sending a shockwave of need through his body. Desire pumped inside him, taking over every rational thought that remained.

She pulled away and pressed a hand to his chest with enough pressure to keep him back an inch.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Her whisper oozed indignation.

He didn’t take his hands off her. He couldn’t. Not until he had her again. “I could ask you the same thing.” He blinked until all the moisture was gone from his sockets. He had to see her face.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his Zippo lighter. Damn, he probably still smelled like the Cuban cigar he’d smoked outside.

Gemma hated the smell of smoke.

He flicked it and a glow burst between them, illuminating her face. Her full pink lips held anything but the smile she’d worn on the patio. Her high cheekbones bore a tantalizing blush. Whether it was natural or from their kiss it didn’t matter. Still fucking gorgeous.

Her dark eyebrows lowered and her gaze homed in on him. “Really, Dallas. What are you doing here in Cali? This can’t be a coincidence. Did you—”

“Come looking for you? Hell no.”

Anger swathed his body in a second layer of heat. Sweat moistened his brow. The closet was hotter than hell with very little airflow. He lifted his arm and wiped his forehead.

She folded her arms in front of her chest, and the two-inch gap between their bodies felt as enormous as a canyon.

He swallowed the rest of his injured pride. The fact that she thought he was so hung up he’d follow her across the world was more than a little insulting.

The fact that she always showed up at his house on a random day of the year—only one—and he obliged, hitting the sheets and banging her sweet pussy like a man starved, was evidence enough that he had it bad. Real fucking bad.

Their random sexual encounters had started five years ago. He had no contact number for her. No address. She was a ghost who waltzed in and out of his life freely, spilling his sanity on the floor in a pathetic mess of lust, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Sure, he could tell her to take a hike. Find another dude to keep her warm. But that’s not what he wanted. He’d fucked her only a handful of times and it was a million times too few.

She huffed a breath through her nose. Her shoulders were high and rigid, her eyes distant and, dammit, fearful.

“You have to get out of here, okay?” She glanced at the door as if she expected it to spring open.

He drew his head back. “I’m on a job. I can’t go anywhere.”

She swallowed and closed her eyes at the same time. “Leave the hotel. Please.”

Spotting a ledge just above her head, he set the lighter down, the flame still lit. Turning his attention back to her, he pressed his palms into her biceps. “Gemma. What’s going on?”

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head. “I don’t have time to talk. It’s dangerous here.”

Angst punched the wall of his stomach. Now he really couldn’t leave. “For you?”

“Look, I can’t tell you anything. I’m staying in the city tonight. Give me your number and I’ll call you.” The gentle cadence of her voice carried sincerity.

Nah. He’d been down that road before. He’d given her his number more than once and never had she called. It’d been fourteen months since she last showed up at his door, and before today, he’d thought something had happened to her or she’d moved on.

He caressed her skin with his thumbs, and the motion seemed to erase some of the tension in her body. She brought her cheek to his chest for a beat then pulled away.

“Come with me right now.” The words blurted from his mouth. There were a dozen reasons why he couldn’t—no, shouldn’t—make this offer, and one very important reason why he should. While not ideal, he could delay his meeting a few hours to get Gemma to safety.

“I can get you a plane—”

She pressed her fingertips to his lips. A smile eased the strain on her face. Her smooth, pearly teeth called his tongue once again.

Goddamn, if she’d asked him to jump into a burning building he would.

“I appreciate the offer,” she whispered, and dragged her knuckles along his jaw. “I’m glad I saw you here. It’ll help.”

A sense of regret surrounded her, softening her usually tough exterior. For the hundredth time he ached to ask the questions that burned his lips, but he forced them down. The more Gemma was pushed, the farther she’d run. Someone had a firm grip on her.

He shifted his hand from her arm to her hip, cradling her. She blinked heavily and tilted her head to the side, an indication she wanted more.

He lowered his lips to her neck and tasted her warm skin. Her scent coated his tongue. Need fissured him.

A soft moan caressed his ear. “Dallas,” she gasped. “We can’t. I—I need to get out there.”

He slid his hand beneath the hem of her dress. Wiggling it between her ass cheeks, he brought his fingertips to the hot sex between her legs.

“I have to—oh, god.” Her little gasps became heavy pants.

“I need you,” he said into her ear. Every word came from a deep chamber inside him. A place he wouldn’t examine today and probably not ever.

She pulled away and his hand fell. The blues of her eyes flashed with intensity. Wetness coated her full bottom lip from his kiss. “Okay. And then you need to get away from here. At least for the evening.”

Blood pumped through his veins, making his cock throb. “Done.”

She pressed her body to his chest, securing her lips to his. Her silky tongue flicked over his and his eyes threatened to roll back. All the wind left his lungs as he crushed her against him. He trailed his hand down her back to the cozy apex between her legs, moved aside her thong, and touched her folds.

“Mmm,” she mumbled between kisses.

He pressed two fingers inside her, and the cushion of her ass cheeks brushed his wrist, driving him insane. A few minutes in a fucking closet wouldn’t stifle the beast inside him, but it’d have to do.

She bit his bottom lip and the leaden taste of blood hit his tongue. He gripped her butt with his free hand, weighing its excellence in his palm. He inched her backward and she bumped against the wall.

She pulled away. A few long tendrils of her dark hair clung to her neck and shoulders. The strap on her dress slipped over her arm and her throat moved on a swallow. Without a word, she hiked up her dress and turned to face the wall.

“Like this,” she said softly yet boldly, offering him a view of her luscious ass.

Jesus Christ.

***

She’d officially losther mind.

Completely and utterly gone.

But that’s what happened when she was in close proximity to Dallas Holmes. There was no sense of reason, not a single cell in her body smart enough to heed her warning.

Her usually logical mind just shut off when all that hunk of man came at her. She held her dress up at her hips, her legs shaking. She propped her other forearm against the wall.

A barely audible curse escaped his lips and embarrassment touched her cheeks. His large palm closed over her hip, holding the material of her dress in place so she could lower her hand. His fingers tugged the strip of fabric away from her wet delicates and a beat later, the thick head of his dick pressed against her entry.

Her breath hissed through her teeth as he eased into her.

She didn’t have long. In a few minutes, Charlene would know she was MIA.

Forcing all thoughts of her obligations from her mind, she pushed back against Dallas. He let out a growl of ecstasy and moved in a steady rhythm.

Pleasure built inside her walls as he filled her. Her body responded to him with the flick of a switch. His fingertips sank into the flesh of her hip as he drove in and out of her.

Her breath came in sharp gasps. Every thrust connected with her clit, taking her higher each time. Heat swirled in her abdomen as a tingling sensation overtook her core, wetting her folds even more.

“Ah, holy fuck,” he hissed. His deep voice made a shiver race up her spine.

Screwing the deadliest man she knew was one thing. Screwing him in the closet when her target was in a meeting above her was a whole other story.

Dallas’s fingers slid to her front. Her muscles clenched as he touched her clitoris and flicked his hand in a side-to-side motion. Her knees trembled and her muscles weakened.

She bucked her hips back and he drove into her deeper. She lowered her head to her forearm as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through her.

She closed her eyes and her brain flickered as her orgasm swept her away. She pressed her mouth to her arm to stifle the cries that thundered from her throat.

Dallas let loose a primitive groan as he rocked into her. A low grunt followed, and his warm release surged inside her.

“Holy hell,” he breathed.

His hand slid away from her panties and his arm moved to her waist, anchoring her so she didn’t crumple to the floor. She pressed her back to his chest. Her lungs were ravaged, and the thick air in the closet was akin to pudding.

Dallas’s heart pounded against her ribcage. His hand splayed over her midsection. “You okay?” he asked, his question rough and throaty.

She nodded. No way she could gather words just yet.

Sex with Dallas was always an out-of-this-world experience. The fact that she’d gotten to be with him one more time was nothing less than a miracle. A gift from God before a possibly excruciating exit from this world.

Tears stung her eyes.

Dallas’s movement behind her jostled her shoulders. “Here.” He thrust material at her—some kind of handkerchief. “One good thing about it being hot as hell here is I need to carry something to mop up my sweat.”

She quickly cleaned herself with the cloth and handed it back to him. Turning and rising to her toes, she caught his jaw in her hand. “I have to get back. Do what you promised and go. Now.”

His jaw clenched.

“I mean it, Dallas. Out the front door and don’t come back until tonight.”

A shadow crossed his face, reminding her of the dangerous man he was. The same shadow that told her no matter how attentive he was in bed, no matter how addicted he was to screwing her, he wasn’t someone to cross. “I can leave for an hour. Two tops.”

He balled the material in his hand and his mouth worked back and forth as if he had a shitload to say. Too bad. She didn’t have time.

Her little roll in the closet dust might have cost her more than just her life.

“Fine.” She straightened her dress, opened the door, and slipped out. Her heels clacked on the marble floor with a sense of finality.

Maybe this time she’d actually be able to walk away from him for good.