Chapter 9 #2
The sharp edge of battle faded a fraction, his mind easing out of the hard focus that kept men alive and shifting toward something else. Something he hadn’t allowed himself in a long damn time.
When he returned to base, it wouldn’t be to an empty room.
Ellory would be there, probably chewing on those damn glasses while she stared at a screen like the fate of the world rested on her shoulders.
The thought settled deep in his chest, unfamiliar and dangerous. Hope had never been something he carried into a mission.
But this time was different.
This time, someone was waiting for him.
* * * * *
The low whip of chopper blades vibrated the windows. Ellory jerked her head up, stare fixed on the blackness outside as the roar of the chopper drowned out the hum of her laptop.
She threw a look at the time in the corner of the screen. Just past two a.m. She’d been sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop warm on her thighs, trying to focus on financial records and pretending she hadn’t checked the clock a dozen times since the team deployed.
Then she heard the heavy thump of boots and cast the laptop aside. Her own footsteps were silent on the hardwood as she rushed to the bedroom door. She stopped short of opening it, listening to doors all over the house flying open as the women hurried to greet their men.
Ellory pressed a hand flat against her chest and made herself stand still. She was not May, throwing herself into Chickie’s arms. She wasn’t Izzy, picking out Steele from the group and staring at each other like they were the only two people in the room.
Ellory was The Accountant. The woman who dug up enough dirt on criminals through patterns of numbers to bring them to justice.
She was also the woman who’d kissed Angelo twice and slept with him once. But she didn’t know what to do with those facts except store them in the place behind her ribs where her hand rested.
Male voices filtered through the mansion. A particular deep rumble made the hair on her nape prickle. Before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed the door handle and twisted. When she reached the landing, she looked down.
The grand foyer was a storm of gear dropped and scattered around the men wearing all black. Her heart gave a hard heave as she spotted a familiar set of broad shoulders standing apart from the chaos. Viewing those muscular lines from above had her breath stuttering.
As if he felt the weight of her stare, he tipped his head back and saw her perched at the top of the staircase.
Her lips parted on a small gasp, and her feet started moving on their own.
As she locked eyes with him, she arranged her features into an expression that said I always stand here at two in the morning. This is a completely normal thing I do.
She gripped the railing tight to keep herself from running down and leaping off the last stair into his arms. She was glad he couldn’t see that her insides were shaking and her knees unsteady as she descended two flights to reach the man she shouldn’t be so relieved to see.
She didn’t let her gaze drop—she couldn’t if she tried because Angelo refused to let it go.
It seemed that Angelo didn’t really do smiling, not the obvious kind. But something warm and private moved through his expression, and she felt it land in the center of her like a stone hitting still water.
He started toward the stairs.
Her heart made a complete fool of itself.
She stepped off the bottom stair and moved forward as he did the same.
She cast around her suddenly empty brain for some greeting that was light and easy. Welcome back. Glad everyone made it. Good op?
They met off to the side of the group, and the instant she was faced with the big SEAL, she forgot every word.
This close, she studied the fatigue under his eyes that he’d never admit to. She saw the stubble on his jaw sprouting more with each heartbeat that passed.
Words flooded past her lips, these ones genuine.
“I’m glad to see you.” Her voice sounded a little breathless.
“I’m glad to see you too, Trouble.” His words hooked her in the core.
He looked at her for another long beat—his dark gaze moving over her face like he was checking her for damage the way he’d check his gear. She understood it distantly, in the academic way she understood things she’d never personally survived.
Men who came back from the dark needed something solid to hold on to.
And she was terrified she wanted to be that for him.
“Come on.” It wasn’t a question. His hand found hers, big and warm and slightly rough. He started toward the stairs, and she followed because she was helpless against this pull between them.
As he towed her toward his room, her heart hammered loud enough that she was sure he and everyone else in the mansion heard it. They passed two doors. Three. She was only counting to keep her mind off the fact they were feet away from Ash’s bed.
He pushed open the door. When he grabbed her around the waist and yanked her inside, a surprised laugh burst out of her. The door swung shut behind them at the same moment Angelo’s mouth covered hers.
She didn’t know who moved first but her curves cradled his hard body like neither was able to stop the momentum.
He cupped her face, and she had two fistfuls of his jacket and she was pulling. Then he plunged his tongue between her lips, and she stopped thinking in complete sentences.
She ripped his jacket over his bulging shoulders, and it hit the floor. Next, she tore his shirt from his waistband in desperation to feel his warm skin under her palms.
When she found bare skin, he made a sound against her mouth that undid her.
“Angelo—”
He kissed her long and deep, cutting off whatever she might say. Her mind spun as he worked her top upward, fingers skating toward her breasts.
When they broke apart, he cradled her breast, staring into her eyes as he swished his thumb over her beaded nipple. “Don’t think right now.”
She laughed again, the sound short and breathless. “Thinking is my primary function.”
“Not tonight.” His mouth met the curve of her neck, and she stopped arguing.
She had no idea when she ended up on his bed, naked, with her lover hovering over her. He was staring at her like he was imprinting her on his mind.
She pulled him down.
Their mouths collided again, hungry and eager, tongues twirling in a dance that had her pussy flooding with desire.
Running her hands over the warm steel of his spine, she learned the ridges of scar and sinew, logging every inch of his skin in her mind.
He worked his way down her body, alternating between kisses and small, maddening nips that made her arch off the bed. Dark need whispered along her senses. Overcome by the sensation, she clutched at him, trying to bring his lips back to hers.
But Angelo had other ideas.
He slipped down her body. When he pressed a kiss below her navel, she sucked in sharply, her body on fire with anticipation.
When he sank between her legs, heated breath washed over her throbbing folds.
“Angelo—” The sound cut off on a cry as he delivered a molten lick to her clit.
The growl he made vibrated through her body, spiking her need higher. With every mind-spinning swipe of his tongue, she didn’t just climb higher—she shot into another galaxy.
Her thighs clenched, her stomach dipping with her ragged breathing. When he speared his tongue into her entrance, she bucked faster, riding his lips and tongue to white-hot bliss.
Easing his hands under her bottom, he drew her up to feast on her. Her insides clutched. Needing something to grip, she latched on to his head. He withdrew his tongue and sucked her clit with a strong pull that stole her last brain cell.
With a muffled cry, she came, waves pounding at her body over and over while she gasped his name. The final shudder ripped through her, leaving her boneless and panting.
When he finally settled over her, everything she’d been holding back came down to this—this close contact she never knew she was craving—she pressed her face against the side of his neck and held on.
He filled her in one smooth glide. “Christ, Trouble. You’re so wet.”
“You’re so deep.”
He issued a growl and sank deeper, stroking a place she never knew she had until him.
He churned his hips, kissing her on the withdrawal and staring into her eyes as he slammed in again. Passion stole over her, and she threw herself into making him feel as good as he made her feel. Tightening her inner walls and clenching around him made the cords in his neck stand out.
Sliding her tongue over his, she raked her nails lightly over his spine, all the way to the hard planes of his ass.
Angling her body, she hitched her thigh high on his hip, bringing them even closer.
“Fuck. I’m…right…there!” He pounded into her hard and fast as his release hit. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, guiding him through the flames that licked at them both.
His muscles flexed under her hands and began to slow.
After they came to their senses, he gathered her close. She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat under her ear.
The dark, quiet room closed in around them, making her feel like they were an island in the storm that was raging in the world. She listened harder and found the base was quiet too, as all the people who belonged to each other closed their own doors to outsiders.
She closed her eyes and tried to organize what she felt for Angelo into something she could work with. A ledger. Two clean columns.
What this is. What this isn’t.
Relief belonged in the first column—that much was certain. Enormous relief after waiting on pins and needles.
He was here. He was breathing. The heartbeat under her ear was slow and steady.
She understood checks and balances. And if he hadn’t come home—
She didn’t finish the thought.
There were things she should tell him that were far more important than her catching feelings for him. Like the fact that she had a personal stake in Cipher’s game, and she would do anything and everything it took to find the terrorist, and hopefully Archer too.
With each throb of Angelo’s heart beneath her ear, she relaxed. He was safe. The whole team was.
The man in her arms stirred like he could hear the thoughts tripping through her mind. She felt him settle into sleep with his arm a solid anchor across her back.
She curled closer and let her eyes close.
The ledger in her head stayed open. The second column—what this isn’t—was blank.
But her heart, the completely un-analytical thing, had already written its own report on the matter for her to examine later.