“Mmm?” he asked from somewhere around the vicinity of her navel.
There was so much she wanted to say and so much more she should ask, but one mystery required immediate attention. “Why is your lip swollen?”
He looked up at her with a wide grin, his chin resting against her stomach. “Cody punched me.”
“What?”
He laughed at her reaction, his broad shoulders bobbing up and down. “Yeah. Said I deserved it for bailing on you.”
“You know,” she said, brushing her thumb over the swelling, her fingers resting along his jaw. “I think I can take him.”
His grin spread, and his arms tightened around her waist.
“Nah. Cody’s right. I deserved it.” He kissed her stomach. “Uh, Gray?” he asked, a serious note creeping into his voice. “Any chance you might get preg—”
She cut him off with a shudder. The idea of motherhood was scarier than falling in love. “No. I have an IUD.” Actually, she had the Cadillac of IUDs. Nothing worse than getting your period in the middle of a conflict zone, and with her particular IUD, she never had to worry about it.
Large, capable hands slid over her ass and down the backs of her thighs while Chase’s tongue paid particular attention to the scar she picked up in Jordan, and Gray groaned. She wanted this man, standing or on his knees. Fully dressed or wearing nothing but a pair of tactical pants, she wanted him. And it freaked her out. But maybe in a good way?
“Chase, about before—in the parking lot with Kincaid. I only wanted to get to Tara. I—”
In a fast move, he picked her up by the thighs and set her on her back on his bed. His gaze locked on hers, he stood and removed his pants, kicking them into the growing pile of discarded clothes. If she weren’t already hot and horny, the sight of him naked would have done it for sure.
With a knowing smirk, he grabbed her by the calves and pulled her toward the end of the bed. Kneeling on the floor between her bent knees, he ran his hands up the insides of her thighs, spreading her legs wide.
“There is no before, Gray. Only now.” He leaned in and kissed the bruises left by her climbing harness. Sliding his tongue along her eager flesh, he made his way in the direction she wanted him to go. Anticipation had her hips bucking when he stopped to pierce her heart with a dark look over the slope of her belly. “And just so you’re clear on the matter. You belong to me.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Grant sethis duffel on top of the boxes in the back of the van. The contents consisted of everything he owned. He didn’t have much, a few ratty T-shirts, a pair of jeans, and his collection of guns and ammo. Reluctantly, he added his grandfather’s pocketknife and zipped the bag tight.
Out of necessity, he’d be traveling light, and Canker Face was taking his shit to Montana. When Grant delivered Gray to the new base, he’d get his bag back, collect his fee for services rendered, and fuck off for good.
He slammed the door shut and joined Z at the front of the vehicle.
“Good luck,” Z said, holding out his hand for Grant to shake.
He slapped the quiet man’s palm with his own, returning the strong grip. “You too. Have a safe drive.”
Z flashed a smile and made for his idling truck. Hanging half out of the cab, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “See you in Montana, motherfucker.”
Grant waited while Z strapped in and then waved him off with a two-fingered salute. The moving truck and flatbed trailer sporting the tarped-up Shelby pulled away. Canker Face followed in the van. Grant had nothing for that asshole. Hard to respect someone who hadn’t earned it, and he definitely hadn’t earned it.
In need of a caffeine fix, Grant headed over to where the colonel and Jay waited by the Suburban. “Here are your travel docs.” Jay handed him a bundle. “And your new ID.”
Grant took the wallet and flipped it open. Thanks to the computer genius, he had a new name and title. Federal Air Marshal, Marcus Rhett. His new identity meant he could take his Beretta on the plane.
One gun. One spare magazine. That was it. Under normal circumstances, he didn’t fly on commercial airlines. Too risky. For his own peace of mind, he’d arranged for Davis to meet them curbside when they landed. The kid’s orders were to bring a fast car and a shitload of firepower.
Unfolding the papers, he spread them out on the hood. According to the documentation, he and Gray were on a direct flight from Dallas to Savannah. First class. Nice. Although he didn’t know it, Bodak had paid for the trip. Mackenzie had planned the logistics, and Jay had implemented them using the funds from the prick’s hijacked bank accounts.
Once they were safely at the warehouse, Adam would give Bodak anupdate.As soon as he found out Gray had been taken, the sadistic bastard would be working himself into a rage in anticipation of getting his hands on her. As a result, Adam was going to have to actively manage the situation.
If Bodak stayed true to form, it wouldn’t take long for him to let it slip to Johnson he had Gray. In this case, the prick being incapable of keeping his gob shut worked in their favor. Unfortunately, no one could predict how Johnson would react. Although necessary for him to think Bodak had messed with his plans, it was a high-risk situation.
Grant had to admit, he breathed a little easier knowing Tak had his back. Already on the ground in Savannah, the sniper had scoped out the warehouse through his crosshairs. If there were any threats to Gray’s safety, Tak would make sure Grant knew about it well enough in advance. For now, Joe Drummond had things covered on the inside. Grant would be re-evaluating the situation when he arrived.
Refolding the documentation, he slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. The wallet he stashed in the seat of his pants. Everything in place, all he needed now was the woman he was supposed to be protecting. A closing door had them turning their heads toward the sound. Grant watched the couple approach hand in hand.
