Chapter 18
Fucking hands, shaking like a damn baby.
He'd almost lost control and devoured Celine whole, even with her looking so helpless and tired.
He knew she needed some time to rest, and he'd practically mauled her.
His sisters would flay him alive. Celine needed to be pampered and cared for, not subjected to his basic desires because he couldn't keep his dick under control.
And he thought he knew everything there was to know about women.
He’d always been so in control of his emotions, knew exactly what he wanted and when, but Celine took those notions and flipped them upside down.
She put him on edge. He'd have to be more careful in the future.
Try to put a little bit more distance between them.
A derisive smile spread across his face at the thought. They were locked in a cabin over fifty miles from civilization, for at least the next week. Keeping his distance would be difficult, if not impossible.
He'd been so proud of himself, too, for refusing to install TVs or Internet. He wanted this to be secluded with no connection to the outside world. A place of solitude.
He'd effectively removed any possible distractions, leaving him no real excuse to stay away from Celine.
His cabin had been the perfect escape, the ultimate man cave. He'd never intended to bring anyone else here, let alone a female. In his experience with his sisters, girls left junk everywhere. They liked flowers and pink and sweet-smelling perfume.
His need for order and control had been ingrained from basic training onward. The thought of anyone junking up his place left him feeling slightly ill.
Unless it was Celine...so far, he hadn't found anything about her he didn't like.
Even when she flipped her switch and went all sassy mouth.
He liked that she hadn't let her kidnapping snuff out her spirit.
And he liked how when she was vulnerable she automatically leaned on him.
He liked holding her and inhaling her scent.
Shit, he was in deep; really deep. There was absolutely no way he’d be able to control himself unless he worked off some of this energy.
He prowled the kitchen like a caged tiger, checking cabinet doors for squeaky hinges and small appliances for faulty wiring. Nothing.
The fireplace. There'd been something he wanted to do there. Oh yeah – there had to have been something he wanted to do with the fireplace. He stepped into the living room and knelt at the hearth.
Celine splashed water upstairs and his attention went to the balcony, unable to look away, as he strained to hear every minute sound. Thinking about her running a soapy cloth over those perfect breasts. The material would be rough, abrade her nipples, they'd go all tight and pucker...
Fuck. Aaron shot to his feet and crossed to the door, maybe he needed to chop some firewood. But an obscenely large stack mocked him from beneath the shed. Fuck it, there were always more trees to cut down.
Aaron strode to the shed and grabbed his ax, going to work.
An indeterminate time later the hard labor had done wonders to clear his mind.
After splitting enough firewood to start a third stack, he was back in control.
Yes, Celine Latimer was different, he realized that the first time he saw her, but he could handle her.
He could handle himself when he was around her.
He could compartmentalize just like he did on a regular mission; tie her up nice and neat and put her in her own little box in the back of his mind.
He'd deal with her at a distance, give her time to move on and give himself permission to rejoin TF-S and hunt down Mr. J.
He swung the ax, feeling the satisfaction when he cleaved the log in two with one swing. Agent O'Keefe had managed to infiltrate one of the deepest layers of the Pentagon. And probably Eli and Daniel, if that was really their names, had managed to do the same. But how?
Each access card was assigned its own code, and the code changed weekly, which meant that O'Keefe had gotten his hands on someone's ID and security code within the week and infiltrated the Pentagon and managed to get to Celine. An impossible task for someone on the outside.
He had to have gotten help from someone on the inside, and no low-level techie either.
The security codes he’d gotten his hands on required clearance from the upper echelon.
It was possible there was a double agent, embedded from before Mr. J defected to Afghanistan.
But more likely it was someone higher up, above the operative level, someone who could move about freely, who had clearance for the lower level. Someone other agents wouldn't question.
Someone like Senator Cotter?
Aaron swung again, the log no match for the downward force of his ax.
In his job he'd worked with all kinds of government agencies, but most closely with the CIA.
They had their own black ops unit, labeled OGA, Other Government Agency.
These units ran behind the scenes and generally answered to one commander who had the authority to run ops without asking permission from the President or the Department of Defense.
But Mr. J had never reached that level, he'd turned traitor before then, and Aaron had been out long enough now that he had no idea who ran those teams anymore.
He needed to contact Agent K. The faster they solved this mystery, the sooner he could put some physical distance between him and Celine, and maybe even be there to capture Mr. J.
He split another log, embracing his exhausted muscles. He'd work it all out. He'd help Agent K figure out the mole, stay busy working around the cabin to keep his hands off Celine and then he'd be back in Afghanistan, doing what he'd been trained to do.
Aaron propped the ax on its head, resting his forearm on the handle as he savored the feeling of being in control.
The back of his neck tingled and he spun, dropping the handle of the ax when he saw Celine. Sweet Jesus.
The sunlight basked her in a dusky glow, her freshly washed hair still damp, her hot pink biker shorts playing peekaboo with the hem of her T-shirt.
Her T-shirt – Aaron went hard as a rock.
The lighting basically highlighted the outline of her nipples through the thin white material.
He watched them bead and stiffen under his gaze.
Before his mind had a chance to react, his feet had carried him to her. He stopped right beneath her on the deck, just below eye level. Aaron stared straight ahead, using every ounce of willpower not to look at her chest, and instead focused on the frantic pulse at the base of her slender neck.
“Did you have a good bath?” He could no more help the rough edge to his voice than the fact he was about to bust the zipper on his pants.
“Yes, it was perfect.”
Her voice did things to him, made him wonder what she would sound like screaming his name. Aaron cleared his throat. “Good. Do you need anything?”
His ability for rational thought evaporated as he inhaled her fresh scent. So sweet.
“I couldn't find you inside and I heard the noise out here, so I came to see what was going on.” She bit her bottom lip and nearly took him to his knees.
Think about something, anything, but the way her nipples would taste. “Yeah, I was running kinda low on firewood.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock.
“Does it get really cold up here?”
“Only in the winter, and honestly it’s not so bad. Two or three months, that's it.”
“I guess, I thought, you know all the wood...” She gestured to the pile behind him.
“Oh, well, I'm not out here that much so I like to be prepared,” he finished lamely. He had enough firewood now to last two winters easy and that was burning wood all day, too.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the bruise on her arm a stark reminder of his goal. Celine was delicate. Fragile.
So far, her kidnapping and near murder hadn't pushed her over the edge, but if he didn't suppress his lust, he might be the one to break her.
“You should go back inside. I need to finish up here and then I'll come change your bandage.”
Her blue eyes shadowed and he hid his cringe. His tone had been harsh, he'd meant for it to be, for both their sakes.
“Fine. Try not to chop off a leg.”
Aaron watched her storm into the house with a sigh. He rarely hated his job, but this was one of those times he'd give anything to have been normal.