Chapter 14 #3
"I want contingency operators positioned for variables the primary team can't account for.
" I keep my voice level and my reasoning clean.
"If this operation breaks down, I need people already in position who can extract her before the cartel moves her somewhere we can't reach.
People who answer to me and no one else. "
"You're running a parallel operation without informing your team."
"I'm building a failsafe." I lean against the porch railing and watch a hawk circle over the cedar break.
"The plan is solid. The team is capable.
But Raven is walking into a hostile environment with limited backup and too many variables sitting outside our control.
I'm not staking her life on a single operational line.
If the primary plan fails, I need assets already in play that the cartel won't anticipate and the team won't accidentally compromise. "
More keys. Carmichael is already running names, cross-referencing availability against skill sets and proximity.
"I have operators finishing work in San Antonio.
I can redirect three of them to Fredericksburg within forty-eight hours.
All Shadowland, experienced in extraction and close-quarters work.
They'll operate under your direct command and maintain radio silence until you activate them. "
"Good."
"Jesse." Carmichael's voice shifts. "Does Raven know about this?"
"No."
"She won't take it well when she finds out."
"I know." The words come out flat. "But she'll be alive to be angry about it."
"Understood." A brief pause. "I'll send the roster and positioning data before end of day."
The line goes dead.
I pocket the phone and stand on the porch for a while longer, watching the sun climb.
Inside the cabin, water is still running.
Raven is in the shower, almost certainly running through contingency scenarios and tactical variables in her head, preparing herself mentally for an operation that could end her life.
And I'm standing on this porch having just arranged a parallel operation she doesn't know about, with assets she'll never see, running beside a plan she believes I've endorsed without reservation.
The dishonesty sits heavy, but it doesn't sit wrong. There's a difference between lying to someone and refusing to let them die for the sake of transparency. I've made that calculation before. I'll make it again if I have to.
I head back inside. The shower cuts off as I close the door, and I hear movement in the bedroom. I pour two glasses of whiskey from the bottle on the counter and wait.
Raven emerges a few minutes later with damp hair loose around her shoulders, wearing one of my shirts and nothing else.
The sight of her in my clothes, barefoot on the hardwood with her skin still flushed from the hot water, hits me in a place that has nothing to do with tactics or shadow assets or the lie I'm carrying.
She sees the whiskey and crosses to the counter. I hand her a glass and she takes it without a word. We drink in silence for a moment, the kitchen settling into the particular quiet of two people who've agreed to risk everything and are choosing not to examine that decision too closely just yet.
"Soon," she says.
"Soon." I set my glass down and move around the counter until I'm close enough to catch the scent of soap on her skin. "And between now and then, we make sure you're ready for every version of how this could go."
"I'm already prepared."
"You're competent." I reach out and tug the collar of my shirt aside, exposing the curve of her shoulder. "Competent and prepared aren't the same thing."
Her eyes narrow. "I've run undercover operations before, Jesse."
"Not like this one." I lean in, my mouth close enough to her ear that my breath moves the damp hair against her neck.
"You've never walked into a cartel operation knowing they want you dead before you arrive.
You've never played bait for a plan where one wrong move means they take you apart before anyone can reach you. "
Her breath catches, and I feel the shiver travel through her body where it's pressed against mine.
"Then it's a good thing I don't plan on giving them the chance."
"Nobody plans on giving them the chance." I slide my hand into her damp hair and tilt her head back until she's looking me in the eyes. "But the window between control and chaos is razor thin, and I need to know that when it narrows, you won't break."
"I won't."
"Prove it."
She sets her glass down and steps into me, fisting my shirt in both hands as she pulls me down into a kiss that's all heat and challenge. I kiss her back harder, rougher, until she makes a sound low in her throat that goes straight through me.
I break the kiss and step back. "Bedroom. Strip. Then get on your knees and wait for me."
Her pupils blow wide, but she doesn't hesitate. She turns and walks toward the bedroom, and I give her a full minute before I follow.
When I walk in, she's kneeling on the hardwood floor beside the bed, naked, hands resting on her thighs, exactly where I told her to be. The sight of her waiting for me, submitting without question, makes something dark and possessive coil through my chest.
I close the door and cross to her, undoing my belt as I walk. She watches me, her breathing already uneven, and when I stop in front of her she doesn't look away.
"You know what I want."
"Yes." Her voice is steady, but I can see the want in her eyes, the way her thighs press together.
I work my jeans open and free my cock, already hard and aching. "Then open your mouth and take it."
She leans forward and wraps her lips around me, and the wet heat of her mouth pulls a rough sound from my throat. I slide my hand into her hair and grip hard, holding her in place as I push deeper.
"All of it," I growl. "I want to feel the back of your throat."
She takes me deeper, her hands bracing on my thighs, and when I hit the back of her throat she gags slightly but doesn't pull back. I hold her there for a beat, watching her eyes water, then pull back enough to let her breathe.
"Again."
This time she takes me without hesitation, relaxing her throat, and the sight of her on her knees with my cock buried in her mouth is enough to make my vision blur.
I set a rhythm, fucking her mouth with controlled thrusts, and she takes it, takes everything I give her, her nails digging into my thighs hard enough to leave marks.
"That's it. Choke on it." My voice comes out rough, wrecked. "And when I'm done with your mouth, I'm going to put you on that bed and fuck you so hard you'll feel it for days."
She moans around my cock, and the vibration nearly undoes me. I pull out before I lose control, and she gasps for air, her lips swollen and wet.
"On the bed. Hands and knees."
She climbs onto the mattress and positions herself, and I take a moment just to look at her. Her spine curved, her ass in the air, her thighs spread just enough to show me how wet she is. Mine. At least for now, before I send her into danger with lies between us.
I strip off my shirt and my jeans and move behind her, running my hand over the curve of her ass before bringing it down hard. The slap echoes in the room, and she jerks forward with a sharp cry.
"That's for making me agree to a plan that could get you killed." I bring my hand down again, watching the red bloom across her skin. "This is for not trusting me to find another way."
"There is no other way," she gasps.
"I know." I slide two fingers into her pussy, rough and deep, and she's soaking wet, dripping down her thighs. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
I work her with my fingers, adding a third, stretching her, making her rock back against my hand. She's panting now, her arms shaking, and when I curl my fingers against that spot inside her she nearly collapses.
"Please." The word comes out broken, desperate.
"Please what?"
"Fuck me. Jesse, please."
I pull my fingers out and line my cock up with her dripping entrance, then drive into her in one solid thrust that buries me to the hilt.
She cries out, her back arching, and I don't give her time to adjust. I just start pounding into her with a pace that's punishing, each thrust bottoming out hard enough to shift her forward on the bed.
My hand wraps around her throat from behind, not choking but controlling, pulling her head back. "You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside you? That's where you belong. Right here, taking everything I give you."
"Yes," she gasps. "God, yes."
I release her throat and grab her hips with both hands, fingers digging in, and fuck her harder. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by her broken moans and my rough breathing.
"Soon, you're going to walk into that street and let them take you." My voice is low, vicious. "You're going to let them put their hands on you, and I'm going to have to watch it happen and do nothing until the time is right."
"Jesse—"
"So right now, you're mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, and I'm going to make damn sure you remember that when they touch you."
I pull out and flip her onto her back before she can protest, hooking one of her legs over my shoulder and driving back into her at an angle that makes her scream. Her hands claw at the sheets, her knuckles white, and I lean down to bite the tendon of her neck, leaving a mark she'll see tomorrow.
"Open your eyes." It's not a request. "Look at me while I fuck you."
She drags her gaze to mine, and the vulnerability there, the trust, makes something twist in my chest. She doesn't know about the shadow assets.
She doesn't know I've already arranged insurance behind her back.
She just trusts me to get her through this.
It makes me want to fuck her harder, claim her more completely, make her mine in a way that leaves no room for doubt.
I reach between us and find her clit, circling it with my thumb while my cock drives into her relentlessly. "Come for me. Right now. I want to feel you shatter."
Her orgasm hits like a freight train, her entire body going rigid as she clenches around me so hard it borders on painful. She cries out my name, her nails raking down my back, and the combination of pain and pleasure pushes me over the edge.
I bury myself as deep as I can go and come with a sound that's half growl, half groan, spilling inside her while she's still shaking through the aftershocks.
The feeling of marking her, claiming her, filling her up while knowing I'm lying to her about the backup plan, creates a dark satisfaction I don't want to examine too closely.
I stay inside her until my breathing slows, then pull out carefully and collapse onto the mattress beside her. She curls into my side immediately, her head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine.
"That was..." She trails off, searching for words.
"Necessary." I wrap my arm around her, holding her against me. "You needed to know I'm not letting you go without a fight."
"I know." Her voice is quiet, already drowsy. "I know."
Within minutes, her breathing evens out and she's asleep. I lie awake, feeling the weight of her against me, her breath warm on my chest. Soon, she'll walk into that street believing I trust her judgment, believing the team is her only backup.
She's wrong. Keeping her alive is the only job that matters, and I don't trust a single plan to do it. Operations like this fail from the variables nobody saw coming. The shadow team is my failsafe against every one of them.
Carmichael's people are already moving into position. When the cartel takes her, when they move her to wherever they're coordinating from, she'll think she's alone with nothing but trackers.
But I'll have shooters in play, contingency plans layered beneath contingency plans.
I tighten my arm around her and feel her shift closer in her sleep, trusting and unaware.
She's going to be furious.
But she'll be alive when it's done, and I can live with her hating me for that.