Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Flustered and still heated from her run, despite the fact it’d been barely fifty outside that morning, Sydney rushed to the closest bathroom in the hall. She clutched her shower kit to her chest while reaching for the door handle but nearly fell as the door opened inward.
“Whoa,” Beckett said, grabbing hold of Sydney’s arm as she almost crashed straight into his brick wall of a naked chest.
She stepped back into the hall and nervously looked around for Gray or even Jack. But they were alone. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He smiled, releasing her arm and setting a palm to the doorframe, his muscles on full display.
“I guess it’s your turn to be half-naked around me lately, huh?” She swallowed, trying not to remember when she’d gone to his bungalow and found him showering that night. And now here they were, Tuesday morning in Chile, and he was shirtless, his body still wet from his shower.
She worked her gaze from his chest to his full lips, then on to his dark, slicked-back hair. Hair she wanted to thrust her fingers into and tug at, urging him to draw that mouth of his to hers.
“You go for a run?” He arched a brow, no concern in his eyes. It wasn’t like they were being hunted. No danger for them. For now.
If she agreed to Mya’s crazy singing idea, she’d be placing herself quite literally in the limelight for Jorge Rojas.
“I did,” she managed.
“Did it help?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarse as his attention skated to her sports bra. She’d tossed her tee back in the room when they’d returned since it’d been soaked in sweat. And now, her cleavage was on full display for this man to see.
He’d caressed her breasts. Sucked her nipples. Taken his time to kiss every inch of her skin in that bungalow. He knew her body, but he was looking at her now as if seeing her again for the first time on the beach. Maybe he was practicing restraint, and that was why his jaw was locked tight.
She could relate. Her body responded to seeing this strong, tough man with only a towel barely clinging to his hips. She was desperate to reach out and trail her finger along his abs, follow the lines that dipped beneath the towel. She wanted to wrap her hand around his cock and stroke him. Help ease his tension the way she’d hoped running would do for her.
Clearly, it hadn’t helped. And standing before Beckett now, she knew it’d take a lot more than running to unwind the sexual tension between them.
“What’d you say?” He’d asked her something, right?
She’d allowed her attention to remain on the towel a bit too long, and slowly worked her eyes back up to his face. The knowing smile he gave her said he knew exactly what was on her mind.
“I’m thinking you’re still about as tense as me,” he said instead of re-asking his question.
“Did you, um, at least get any sleep?” His eyes were bloodshot and exhausted, so she figured if he slept, it wasn’t well.
He shook his head. “The only decent sleep I’ve had in weeks was . . .” He paused as if checking to ensure they were still alone. “With you at the bungalow.”
She needed him.
Wanted him deep inside her.
Not the time. Not the place. And I need to sing in public for the first time in fifteen years.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to pull you back into this bathroom with me,” he said, the warning clear in his tone. “Please,” he added, a plea in his voice this time.
For the life of her, she had no clue why she whispered, “What would you do if you pulled me in there?”
Beckett angled his head, meeting her eyes. He leaned in so close she could smell his minty fresh breath. “Sweetheart, I’m two seconds away from showing you,” he growled out in a low, raspy voice that went straight to her core.
“I, um.” She wet her lips, trying to remember why she was there in the first place. “I should shower,” she forced out. “Alone,” she added around a swallow, remembering Gray was somewhere in the house. And also, we’re working. Focus.
Beckett pushed away from the doorframe, taking a cue from her words to behave. But the desire didn’t disappear from his heated gaze.
She lowered her shower kit from where she had it clutched to her abdomen and swapped places with him.
Once he was in the hallway, his gaze landed on her leggings. “The idea of other men seeing you in those . . .” His jaw strained beneath his facial hair, and his broad chest rose from a deep inhalation.
She wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say that out loud, but she found herself drawn to his alpha-possessive need to keep other men from seeing her body. Would it stop her from wearing the fitted leggings? Probably not. But she wouldn’t mind having him ravage her in the bedroom and?—
“Touch yourself while you’re in there. You need to,” he commanded, completely derailing her thoughts. “You’re going to be strung too tight to operate if you don’t.”
“And did you do the same?” She lifted a brow, imagining his strong hand around his hard length, getting himself off.
“What do you think?” His deep voice sent a ripple of heat cascading over her exposed skin.
She nodded her answer, and a small smile ghosted his lips.
“Now, be a good girl and do the same,” he murmured darkly before walking away, leaving her breathless and horny.
All thoughts of responsibilities and singing were gone the second she was beneath the steamy water.
She replayed her time with Beckett from the other night in her head while sliding her fingers along the seam of her sex before thrusting two inside her pussy.
And then she couldn’t help but create a new scene, writing it in her head as if she were the author of one of those books, while she pressed upon her swollen clit, which was almost too sensitive to touch.
Beckett takes me over his knee and swats my ass three times while whispering, “Bad girl.” Then he sets me face down on the bed.
My ass is still in the air, and he caresses and kisses my flesh before reaching between my legs to cup my swollen, aching sex.
“Spank me there too,” I beg.
He flips me around and runs his finger over my seam before sucking it, eyes holding mine.
He does as I ask, and my back arches off the bed at his touch, desperate for him to take me. To give me what I need.
“You want me to fill that tight cunt of yours, don’t you?” he rasps before thrusting inside me and . . .
Her explosive orgasm shocked her back to reality, and she came harder than she ever had on her own.
Sydney set a hand to the tiled wall, trying to find her breath.
“Where did that come from?” she whispered to herself while reaching for her soap a few seconds later, still trying to steady her racing heart.
But she knew the answer. It was all Beckett. Her desire to unleash and be sexually free around this man was like nothing she’d ever experienced.
Free and yet she wanted to surrender in the bedroom. Give herself completely to him in that way.
He was right. She had needed that. She’d never have made it through another conversation with the team otherwise.
And after the shower, she’d be able to focus.
To face the music.
The actual music.
Do I still remember how to sing?
“I’m sorry, what?” Gray was the first to object to Mya’s idea about seducing Jorge Rojas on Wednesday.
But it was Beckett that Sydney couldn’t rip her focus away from, and the straining of his jaw as he stared at her as if piercing her invisible armor with his dark gaze. He didn’t have to verbally object, she felt his over-my-dead-body in the way he looked at her.
“We’re not considering this,” Gray went on when no one else had spoken. He strode to Carter, holding his leg a bit as if in pain. “Not happening. She is not seducing that fucking psychopath.”
Well then. “You realize that will make her want to do this all that much more, right?” Jack jested, tossing a thumb toward Sydney and smiling.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Was Gray talking to Beckett about this now?
Beckett had his back to the wall, and he remained silently staring at Sydney instead of answering Gray.
“Am I missing something?” Camila asked, drawing Sydney’s attention. “Ohhh,” she tagged on to her question within seconds, her eyes thinning. “You love her?”
“What?” Gray blinked a few times, his gaze swerving to where he gripped his leg, and he let go. “No, I . . .”
“Don’t be mad at Sydney.” Mya stood from the couch. “It was my idea. She has a great voice. Happens to know songs from that time because her grandmother taught her. This might be our best chance to get close enough not just to Jorge and Miguel, but near Jesse without raising eyebrows too.”
Sydney was the last to stand in the room. Her legs were a bit wobbly, her nerves getting to her the longer Beckett continued to only silently observe her. What are you thinking?
“Jesse’s only been able to give you bits of information here and there however he’s managed to communicate with you,” Mya tossed out the reminder, doing her best to sell the seduction idea. “He might have more news to share if we can get close enough to him. Insight that’d help us.”
“She has a point,” Carter agreed. “Plus, I may not be able to get an invite to the birthday party. I’m working on a believable alias, but Friday’s around the corner.”
“A man like Jorge will want a woman like Sydney, I guarantee it.” Camila strode past Gray to get to Carter, confidence in every step. “And if she’s there with a man, he’ll pursue her even more.”
“It may not work,” Oliver joined the conversation. “But I say it’s worth a shot.” He opened his palms. “I mean, what are the chances Sydney happens to know that kind of music and has a voice worthy of listening to?”
“You checked out three rooms at the hotel, yes?” Camila asked Carter, and he nodded. “Mya and I can go for support. We can stay in a room as sisters.”
“Sisters . . .?”
Sydney looked over to see the owner of that small voice. Elaina hung back in the doorway to the hall with her mom at her side, her gaze fixed on Camila.
“Sisters,” Elaina softly repeated, her brows pulling together.
Camila pointed to Elaina. “See, she agrees.”
“I promised Mya she’d stay behind the scenes on cases. Having her at the hotel might place her in danger. And after what happened in the jungle Sunday, I think she should stay here,” Sydney suggested, folding her arms over her gray tee, which she’d paired with jeans after her too-hot shower.
“I’ll be fine at the hotel. It’s not like anyone will shoot at us. Plus, I was always the lead actress in the plays in high school. I can perform. Put on a show for this Jorge guy,” Mya responded. Sydney didn’t hear any weakness or tremble in her tone, so maybe she was up for it.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Oliver blurted. “The acting thing, I mean. Your flair for dramatics.”
Mya rolled her eyes without bothering to look his way. “Just as long as I don’t need to play the role of your girlfriend, I’ll be fine.” She lifted a shoulder and smiled. “There’s only so much acting I can do, ya know?”
Carter freed his hands from his pockets and strode closer to Emily and Elaina. “I need to hang back here and work. Gray and Jack can handle surveillance. Oliver, you’ll go to the hotel with them.”
He was going to stick Oliver and Mya together, wasn’t he?
“Liam should be here soon. Is, um, this close enough for you to, well . . .” Carter fumbled with his words when speaking to Elaina, probably uncomfortable with taking his cues from a twelve-year-old.
“Here is good.” Elaina gave him a small smile as Emily scooped a protective arm around her back.
“If Sydney’s going to the hotel, I’m going,” Gray announced. “Griffin can handle surveilling Jorge with Jack.” The tight draw of his lips as he peered at Carter had Sydney’s pulse racing, worried about another Beckett–Gray showdown. And in this case, who’d protect Sydney at the hotel.
Jack was right. Gray had said what he believed Sydney needed to hear, and how quickly he’d forgotten those lines.
“Okay, so it’ll be Sydney, me, and Mya. And Gray, Beckett, and Oliver at the hotel.” Camila looked at Mya and frowned. “The sister idea might not work. Couples all traveling together sounds more realistic.” She waved her finger between Mya and Oliver. “I’m assuming Gray and Sydney will stay together?”
“No,” Sydney spoke up. But shit, she promised Jack she wouldn’t stay with Beckett, which only left Oliver. And regardless of what Mya said about that man . . . Mya staying with Oliver made the most sense.
“Beckett and Sydney,” Carter repeated what he’d ordered last night. “Mya and Oliver. And Camila and Gray.”
This had Jack on his feet, eyes on Sydney. Was he going to go against Carter? He really was loyally protective of his best friend, and it was something Sydney admired.
“I don’t bite,” Camila said to Gray. “If you’re worried.”
“There should be two queen beds in each room,” Carter was quick to say. “No need to share a bed. Any of you,” he added, focusing on Oliver. He’d clearly picked up on the fact their love-hate behavior could quickly spiral to a love-hate between-the-sheets kind of thing.
“Roger that,” Oliver muttered sarcastically.
“Where are your men right now?” Carter asked Camila. “The four men you have on your team with you, they’re still scoping out the hotel, right?”
Camila nodded. “Yeah, but we can pull two and bring them back here if you need an assist for anything.”
“Have them stay put for now.” Carter then addressed Sydney, “Do you need a place to practice singing before you head to the hotel?”
Sydney clutched her throat, worried her vocal cords might fail her tomorrow. “Hopefully, it’s like riding a bike. Or, in my case, shooting an arrow.” She forced a small smile, trying to stay optimistic with a twelve-year-old in the room. Plus, she had two grown men who were more than likely both unhappy she was going to try and seduce Jorge. Well, she assumed Beckett was on the same page as Gray, but he’d been silent.
“I’ll get the name of the woman who’s supposed to sing Wednesday,” Carter began, “then pull her aside Wednesday night and make her an offer. She can fake being ill, so she doesn’t piss off her band.”
“That should work,” Mya commented, but her tone was more tentative now than before, most likely considering the fact she had to “shack up” with Oliver all week.
“Dad’s here!” Elaina abruptly announced, despite the fact Sydney hadn’t heard anything outside, and then pulled away from Emily and ran toward the front door.
A minute later, Liam walked into the room hand in hand with his daughter. He was tall, with dark blond hair, and he looked eerily similar to the actor Chris Hemsworth. His Aussie accent made the resemblance even more fitting.
Emily hugged her husband, and then Liam redirected his attention to the room, his gaze cutting straight to Beckett.
Beckett visibly tensed as Liam unglued himself from his wife and daughter and ate up the space between them. “Elaina said her headaches are gone now that she’s here,” Liam shared in a low, raspy tone. “I don’t quite understand what in the bloody hell is going on, but if my daughter says we’re all supposed to be here, then so be it.”
Liam surprised Sydney and probably Beckett, too, pulling him in for a quick one-arm hug. He slapped his back twice, then faced the room.
“So,” Liam said while opening his palms, “tell me, who is it that I need to kill?”
“Daaaad,” Elaina whispered in dramatic pre-teen fashion.
“Right. Sorry.” Liam shrugged.
Elaina grabbed her dad’s arm and tugged as if she were five, not twelve. “You will need to kill someone though.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “But it’s okay. It’s to rescue a five-year-old boy.”