Chapter 29
Ghost watched Rachel come apart in his arms, flushed, trembling, gasping his name. His chest felt tight. Not from fear or adrenaline. From her.
He needed her. The realization wasn't new, but watching her fall apart for him made it impossible to ignore. She was his now. He'd protect her. Take care of her. And if anyone came for her again, he'd put them in the ground without hesitation.
Rachel's weight pressed against him, her breathing slowing. Her heart was still racing, he could feel it where her chest met his.
Ghost withdrew his hand from between her thighs slowly. His fingers were slick with her. He looked at Rachel, holding her gaze, then lifted his hand to his mouth.
Her eyes went wide. Lips parted.
Ghost slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. The taste of her flooded his senses, salt and sweet and uniquely her. He groaned, the sound rough in his throat. "You taste like fucking heaven."
Rachel stared at him. Her pupils were blown wide, cheeks still flushed.
Her hand moved down his body. She wrapped her fingers around him, or tried to. She couldn't close her grip completely, his girth too much for her hand. She stroked once, slow and deliberate.
Ghost's abs contracted. Heat shot straight to his groin. He caught her wrist, grip firm. "Baby, I'm gonna lose it in about one second if you keep doing that."
Rachel smiled against his jaw. Her lips brushed his stubble. "Good. I want to give you what you gave me."
Ghost's lungs seized. His hand came up, cupping her face, stopping her. "Not right now." His voice dropped lower. "This isn't about me."
His thumb traced her cheekbone. "I want you in my life. And if I have my way, there'll be plenty of chances for you to return the favor." His mouth pulled to one side. "But you'll always come first."
He kissed her, slow, deep. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. She kissed him back like she meant it, like she was choosing him.
When they broke apart, Ghost's heart was pounding. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard. "You are very addictive, Ms. Parker."
Rachel laughed, soft and breathless.
Ghost exhaled hard. His hand slid down her back one more time before he forced himself to step away. "We need to get cleaned up. And I need to get you out of here."
The haze cleared from Rachel's eyes. She nodded.
Ghost's brain was already running scenarios, threat level, extraction routes, safe locations. But part of him was still back there, still feeling her pulse under his fingers, still tasting her.
He reached for the straps of her nightgown at her waist, drawing them back up over her shoulders. The silk slid against her skin. His knuckles brushed the side of her breast and he felt her breath catch. He forced himself to step back.
Rachel slid off the counter and headed for the closet.
Ghost pulled his fatigues back on. Tucked in his shirt. Fastened his pants. He grabbed his sidearm from the counter, checked the chamber, and holstered it. His body moved through the motions while his brain replayed the sound of her moaning his name.
"Oh no." Rachel's voice cut through, frustration clear.
Ghost was through the doorway before she finished speaking. "What?"
"I don't think there's much in here I can wear."
The closet looked like a bomb had gone off. Clothes shredded with knives. Hangers bent and snapped. Drawers emptied and contents scattered. Someone had methodically destroyed everything she owned.
Ghost's jaw clenched so hard his molars ached. This was deliberate. Meant to violate her, strip away her sense of safety.
He crouched beside her and pulled a pair of denim shorts and a fitted T-shirt from the wreckage. "Here."
She took them. Her hands were shaking.
Ghost caught her chin, tilting her face up. Her eyes were wet but she wasn't crying. "We'll get you new clothes, Rachel. You're not alone in this."
Rachel shook her head. "No. I couldn't possibly let you do that."
"Let me take care of you, baby."
Rachel's mouth opened to argue. "There's no way I could ask you to—"
Ghost kissed her. Hard and fast, cutting off her protest. When he pulled back, his hand slid to her jaw. "I'll just have to convince you later. Right now, you need to get dressed."
Rachel stared at him for a second, then nodded.
She stripped the nightgown off right there. Ghost stayed close, eyes sweeping the room even as his peripheral vision tracked her pulling on the shorts, tugging the shirt over her head. He was cataloging exits, sight lines, potential threats.
CRACK.
Glass exploded inward. A bullet punched into the far wall, plaster spraying.
Ghost grabbed Rachel. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her down as another window shattered. Shards rained down on his back. He covered her completely, his body a shield.
"Down!" He hauled her into the living room.
He grabbed the overturned couch with one hand, muscles burning as he dragged it into position. He shoved her behind it as another round tore through the wall six inches from his head.
Controlled three-round bursts. Suppressors. Ghost's blood went cold. These weren't thugs. These were professionals.
He grabbed her arm, fingers digging in. "We need to go. Now."
Rachel nodded, breathing fast and shallow.
Ghost grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the front door. His weapon was already in his other hand, safety off, finger outside the trigger guard. Every step was deliberate. Silent.
Rachel stayed pressed against his back. Glass crunched under their feet. Bullet holes pocked the drywall. Blood was probably smeared on the floor from where the intruders had searched earlier. Ghost didn't look. Only one thing mattered, getting her out alive.
At the door, Ghost stopped. He peered through the narrow window. Scanned the street. Two men on the sidewalk, trying to look casual. One at the corner pretending to check his phone. Black SUV idling across the street, windows tinted, engine running.
"Two on the sidewalk. One at the corner. SUV across the street. Light gear. Suppressors. Extraction team. Not expecting resistance."
Rachel's breathing hitched behind him.
Ghost squeezed her hand. "Stay behind me."
He opened the door.
Sunlight blinded him for half a second. Ghost stepped out, weapon up, eyes already adjusting. Across the street, one of the men spotted them. His hand moved toward his radio.
Ghost shoved Rachel behind the brick wall and pivoted left, drawing their fire. The first shot cracked past his ear.
He fired three times. Center mass. The man stumbled, weapon clattering on concrete.
"Go!" Ghost yanked the gate open. His body stayed between Rachel and the shooters. "Run!"
Rachel sprinted toward the alley, head down, legs pumping. Ghost moved with her, weapon tracking, covering every angle.
More shots. Concrete chips exploded from the wall beside him. Ghost returned fire without breaking stride, keeping his body angled to shield her.
They hit the alley. Rachel's breathing was ragged. Ghost's heart hammered against his ribs but his hands were steady.
He'd get her out. Whatever it took.