Street Game

CHAPTER 16

“What are you doing?” Jaimie asked, coming up behind Mack. She’d known the moment he’d left her bed.

Light was creeping into the windows. The sun could barely make it through the thick fog drifting in off the ocean, casting gloom over the early-morning light. She’d followed him on bare feet down to her workroom after making a cup of tea, more to give herself time to assess her feelings than for the need of her early-morning cup. Lying all night in Mack’s arms, his body wrapped tightly around hers, with Ethan and Kane lying only a few feet away, had been a kind of hell. He had touched her continually. Her breasts, her ribs, her belly, his hand sliding between her legs, fingers moving inside her. She had the marks of his mouth against her neck and even on her breast, his hands and mouth keeping her aroused and on edge, but he’d never said a word. Never took her over that edge, even quietly beneath the covers. She’d never felt so aroused in her life. Every square inch of her body felt sensitive and needy.

“Trying to hack into your files,” Javier answered her without looking up from the screen. “Using your own program of course.”

She was glad he hadn’t looked up. Her nipples were peaked and hard beneath her thin top and lacy bra. “I see.” She wrapped her arms around Mack’s neck and leaned against his back, careful to keep her tea from spilling, needing to hide her body and feel his warmth at the same time. “Are you getting anywhere?”

“No.” Javier shot her a look of pure malice over his shoulder. “I’m thinking of pulling out a gun and shooting your hard drive.”

“Why didn’t you just come ask me?”

“Would you have given me your password?” Javier challenged.

“No, and I’m thinking of throwing you out of my house and banning you from ever using my equipment again.” Jaimie actually had to work to keep her voice normal. Her tone had gone throaty, almost husky. She didn’t look at Mack when he turned his head to glance at her over his shoulder. She couldn’t. Afraid he might know. He did know. He arched his back enough to put pressure on her sensitive nipples.

She gasped and straightened, trying to look casual, but that slight brush of her breasts against Mack’s back sent arousal sizzling through her veins, from breasts to thighs. She looked down at her hands and found she was trembling. He looked so completely composed while she was a wreck.

She moved away from Mack’s solid frame, putting a little distance between them, to perch on the long desktop. Swinging one leg, she sipped at her tea, glaring at Javier, mostly to avoid looking at Mack.

Javier threw his hands in the air, palms out in surrender. “Mack made me do it. Direct order. You know I always obey.”

“Lightning is about to strike,” she said. She braced herself to look at Mack. It was strange, but she could actually taste him in her mouth. When she drew in air, she felt him in her lungs, as if their energy had knit tightly together and somehow she had left part of herself behind in Mack’s body. She kept her gaze squarely in the middle of his chest. “What do you need, Mack?”

There was a silence, forcing her to meet his eyes. You. Right now. Naked on the floor writhing under me. Screaming. You screaming for me. She honestly didn’t know if he sent the words into her mind or if she’d answered her own question, but his eyes were predatory. Hungry. He looked as edgy and moody as she felt.

Mack jerked his head and Javier sighed, stood, and then stretched. “If I’m going to be any good to you, I need rest.”

Mack nodded his assent. “We leave in a couple of hours. Have your gear ready. You can sleep on the plane.”

Jaimie’s stomach tightened. She waited until Javier left before she looked at Mack. “You’re leaving?” She had to set her teacup aside so he wouldn’t see her hand tremble.

He stepped close to her, so close she could feel his body heat. His eyes darkened, glittered at her as if she riled him. “You knew I’d have to go. What did you think? That Griffen can live on the run indefinitely? We don’t have a choice here.”

“We could do what I was going to do in the first place, Mack-go to the newspapers, put it on the Internet.”

“They’ll destroy you, Jaimie. Your reputation, everything. You know they will.”

His hand dropped to her knee, just rested there, but she was terribly aware of the heat generated by his palm through her thin drawstring pants. “I hate the mysterious ‘they.’ ‘They’ rule our lives. What are we going to do? Sit around and wait for them to kill us off one by one?”

His gaze met hers. There was absolute purpose there.

Jaimie’s heart jumped. “Mack.”

“I need to know everything you’ve got on Earl Thomas Bartlett, along with every company he’s associated with as well as friends and acquaintances. And don’t tell me you don’t have a file on him, Jaimie.”

She didn’t want to do this, give him the information he needed, but she knew she would. She’d much rather pretend she had found nothing at all, but instead, she nodded slowly. “He’s big, Mack. I know Homeland Security is supposed to have taken over everything, and coordinate with all the various security offices, but you and I both know that’s not altogether true. There are splinter groups that protect their superiors by being very compartmentalized. Everything Bartlett is associated with is shrouded in secrecy. I take it Javier gave you his name.”

His smile was almost worth it. He looked at her as if she was amazing even as he nodded his head. “Javier found a reference to him on the computer you let him use. How did you find him?” His hand moved, made little circles just above her knee.

Jaimie wasn’t certain he even realized how much he disturbed her with his touch, how her body responded even though they were talking about something so important. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “His name kept coming up. There was an obscure newspaper article I read. It should have been on the front page, but ended up buried. I knew the reporter had stumbled onto something big. Bartlett’s name is on several small shell companies. Each owns a private jet and seems legitimate. In fact, the companies file taxes and never turn much of a profit, everything very under the radar.”

“What kind of companies?” His hand moved up her thigh, those lazy circles getting wider. Closer. More compelling.

Jaimie could have stopped him. All she had to do was put her hand over his. He seemed to be just smoothing the pads of his fingers over her inner thigh absently. Her womb spasmed and she felt her panties go damp. She ached for him.

“Jaimie,” he prompted gently.

She forced her mind onto briefing him. “Quite a few of the companies are to do with foreign investments, but what I found the most interesting is the research facilities. Bartlett has ties to Donovan Corporation, built just outside of this city. Whitney is the majority stockholder in that company. Bartlett’s name appears on a company in Oregon as well as several tracts of land in Wyoming, Colorado, California, and Nevada. The land in Wyoming is supposedly used as a secret military training facility, as are all of the rest of them. We know the facility in Wyoming was really a research lab for Whitney’s experiments, specifically his breeding program, because Kane was stationed there.”

Mack’s hand moved to the hem of her top and pushed at it. His fingers brushed against bare skin right at her waist. “Bartlett is the name tying all of these places together?”

Butterflies flooded her stomach. She swallowed hard but continued. If he could breathe normally, then so could she. “I believe that there are more secret places supposedly used for military training, but Whitney remains hidden and this fictitious Bartlett is helping him.”

“You’re talking about the CIA.” His voice was soft. Sexy. He leaned into her just a little, bunching her shirt in his fist, raising the material inch by slow inch. He was looking at her body, not at her.

She was having difficulty breathing no matter how hard she tried to stay cool.

“Bartlett’s got to be their money man, Mack. And he doesn’t exist anywhere.”

“But you know who he is.” He made it a statement as he bent forward until she could feel his warm breath against her belly.

Jaimie closed her eyes. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Had his voice shaken? She didn’t know. His lips were against her skin as he spoke. She could feel them, velvet soft, moving over her tummy. He moved into her, forcing her body back to give him more room.

“Because he was arrested and charged with murder and espionage and convicted. He was serving out his sentence in a military prison. According to his records, he attempted suicide by hanging himself and lost brain function. At that time he was transferred to a hospital for the insane and is currently residing there.” She dared to touch him. To put her hands in his hair, that thick mass of short hair that felt so good moving over her skin.

“He does all this from the hospital with no brain function?” His tongue moved in her belly button. His fist yanked her shirt up over her breasts. He frowned at her.

“Why the hell do you always wear a bra?”

“I’m modest.”

“Take it off.” He stood there, wedged between her thighs, angling her body back over the desktop, his fist holding her cami up. “Take it off for me, Jaimie.”

Her fingers trembled. She glanced at the stairway, but she unhooked the front clasp and let the cups part in the middle, spilling her breasts out into the open air. There was relief as the cool air touched her skin. “I thought I was briefing you.”

“You are. You were telling me about your suspect losing brain function and still running things from a mental hospital.”

She took a slow breath, her breasts heaving. Mack just kept his head close to her body, his mouth pressed against her belly button. She could barely think with the roaring in her head. “I don’t think he was ever in prison, Mack. I think someone else was taken to prison, probably this man…” She caught his head in her hands. “I’m going to need the computer.”

“Then take off your top.”

“You want me to brief you topless?”

“Yes.” He stepped back slowly, his eyes moving broodingly over her face.

“Will you remember what I tell you?”

“Every damn word,” he said, “will be etched into my brain.”

“Well, then.” Jaimie drew her top over her head and set it aside. Kane, I need some time down here alone, Mack reached out to his second-incommand. You got it, boss.

“Your bra,” he prompted.

She let the bra straps slide down her arms and she placed the lacy scrap on top of her shirt. She heard his indrawn breath and found herself smiling as she turned to her computer, her fingers flashing across the keyboard to bring up a picture of a young, earnest-looking man with dark hair and scared eyes. “This is Thomas Matherson. He was an aide to Phillip Thornton, who happened to be CEO of Donovan Labs a couple of years ago. Matherson disappeared right after Thornton was arrested. Everyone thought he was involved and that he ran. The rumor is, he was paid off and is living the high life in Costa Rica.”

Mack ran his finger down the side of her breast, but his eyes stayed on the screen.

“But you think he’s in a mental hospital as Phillip Thornton.”

“Absolutely I do.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “There are tons of documents with Bartlett’s signature, Mack. There’s no picture of him, but his signature is everywhere.” She brought up a document and enlarged the signature at the bottom. “Earl Thomas Bartlett” had been signed with a flourish. “Now look at Thornton’s signature. Our brain-dead Phillip Thornton.” She placed a second signature beside the first.

Mack walked right up to the large screen and studied the two signatures. “You ran them both I take it and there’s no mistake?”

“Numerous times, Mack. The signature was really the only consistent thing I had to ID him with, so I ran it against every single person that had a past with Whitney. Thornton worked for him, with him, for years. They went to the same school together. He was implicated in Whitney’s supposed murder.”

“You think he helped Whitney disappear and that he’s assumed a new identity and is now providing Whitney with everything he needs to stay gone?” He turned away from the screen, his gaze moving possessively over her body.

Jaimie faced him, very conscious of the fact that he was fully clothed and she was half naked. There was something very sexy and exciting about having a man look at her the way he was, his gaze hot as it moved over her. “Yes, I absolutely believe he’s the man covering Whitney’s butt. I think he tipped off Whitney that there was a conspiracy to kill the GhostWalkers. General Ronald McEntire was assigned to the National Reconnaissance Office, building spy satellites. He was a major influence in the Donovan Labs getting government contracts. He went to school with Thornton and Whitney. They were all thick as thieves for a while.”

Mack sank into a chair, rubbing his shadowed jaw as he looked at her. “Are you wearing panties, Jaimie?”

“Is that relevant? What exactly are you doing?” Now he was making her nervous.

“Looking at what’s mine.” He crooked his finger at her. “You’ve really dug deep, haven’t you?”

She took two steps toward him. “I had to. Thornton has been Bartlett for years. Some of the documents have been around for years. He’s got a lot of clout, Mack.”

Mack pointed to the spot in front of his chair. “How in the world did you find his new identity?”

“He’s been in the shadows for so long, getting away with his Bartlett act, simply because the agency covers his ass. He switched identities with his aide. Someone had to have been paid off at the prison to make the switch in the first place, and he had to create a third identity. Which isn’t all that hard when you work for the CIA.” She took the last few steps until she stood in front of the chair. Her knees felt weak.

“His signature,” Mack guessed. “You nailed him through his signature.”

“I have Thornton’s prints from his records, but even that could have been tampered with. Yeah, I found him through his signature. I assumed he’d be very low profile this time, change his appearance, but Thornton had amassed a fortune. He wasn’t going to let that go.”

He was just looking at her, his gaze moving hungrily over her face and breasts.

“How did he keep his fortune when he was convicted of espionage?”

“Mack, I can’t think straight.” He was killing her with need.

“Yes, you can.” His hands reached out and caught the string at her waist. He tugged her a step closer.

She took a calming breath. “There’s a lawyer, a man named Mark Scott. He seems to do a lot of business with these companies. He brokered the deal for three different private jets for three of the corporations. Strange thing is, he works for only a handful of clients, including a Shelton Barstow Reams who also has no driver’s license or anything else I can find, but does have two post office boxes and a company in Virginia.”

“Are Reams and Thornton the same man?” He played with the string at her waistband.

She shook her head. “No, Reams is another ghost living in the shadows, coming out only to sign documents and put companies in his name. He’s like Bartlett. And Mark Scott just happens to be the attorney for both men.”

“So this attorney, Mark Scott, really works for the CIA as well.”

She shrugged. “I think it’s a good bet. That’s why I began looking into his client list. Believe me, Mack, it wasn’t very long. I found this man.” She tried to take a step away from him back to the computer but he held on to the string. “Mack, I need to…”

He pulled the string so that the bow slipped open. His hands caught the waistband and widened it so that the pants dropped around her ankles, leaving her standing in a tiny thong. It barely covered the front of her. His hand slid up her bare inner thigh, higher, until he found the junction and the damp material of her thong. “You don’t need this, baby. Get rid of it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, glancing once more toward the stairs. He pushed the material aside. “Look at me, Jaimie, not the stairs. This is about me. I had to lie in that bed all night, inhaling you, my hands on your body, and I couldn’t do a thing. It was torture, so if I torture you a little, you can put up with it.”

She hesitated and then hooked her thumbs in the narrow band and pushed the thong from her hips, stepping out of it. “Am I supposed to conduct the briefing completely naked?”

“Yes.”

“And keep my mind on it?”

“I’ll do my best to occasionally distract you.”

Her body felt feminine and sexy, beautiful even, with him staring at her, drinking her in. She turned and walked to the computer, using a little hip action, knowing he was watching the sway of her butt. She bent over the keyboard, turning slightly to give him a bit of her profile, so he could see the swell of her breasts along with her bottom, accepting his implied dare.

Jaimie’s overhead screen immediately held a photograph of an older, gray-haired gentleman with glasses. “Meet James Bradley Jefferson the third.”

Mack’s gaze reluctantly left her body to study the face on the screen. He waited while Jaimie’s fingers flew over the keyboard again. A second photograph appeared beside the first. “This is Phillip Thornton.”

The two men were the same height and weight, but their faces seemed different-their noses and jawlines. Thornton wore his hair very short, while Jefferson’s was a bit wilder, giving him a rakish look.

“They both favor Armani suits,” he said. “Are you telling me that’s Phillip Thornton? Or Bartlett? They aren’t the same man.”

“I ran my handy, dandy program, Mack. It finds bone markers; their faces are structurally the same and it doesn’t lie. His nose and chin have been altered, but that’s Phillip Thornton. And Earl Thomas Bartlett. And James Bradley Jefferson the third. They’re all the same man.”

He shook his head. “I don’t see it.”

“I followed the money, Mack. Thornton’s fortune was long gone when they went to find it. He had all his money in offshore accounts. The Feds managed to get his heavily mortgaged home and about thirty thousand dollars. I found fourteen million dollars in one offshore account and a second one holding an additional sixteen, both belonging to Thornton. The money disappeared, just vanished into thin air.”

She straightened slowly and turned to face him, conscious of her body and the way his eyes jumped from the screen to her. “It just so happens that around the same time that Thornton’s money vanished, James Bradley Jefferson the third suddenly came into being and guess what? He just happened to have the exact amount of money that disappeared from Thornton’s account. And one more thing, Mack. Remember those private jets that can land on our military bases? He has one. And his most recent trip was to Oregon, or to be more precise, to a secret training facility.”

Mack tapped the arm of his chair with restless fingers. “You really found the son of a bitch, didn’t you, Jaimie?”

“Absolutely I did.” She sent him a half smile.

“Come here, baby. I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work.”

Her heart jumped, began to beat overtime. His voice was dark and sensuous, Mack at his most persuasive. It was always impossible to ignore that voice when he wanted her. That exact tone was one of the reasons she’d left him. She would never have resisted him. He didn’t move from the chair, just watched her with hooded eyes. She stood in front of him. Naked. Without a stitch. Her body was already betraying her. She could feel the damp nectar moistening her entrance. Every muscle was tight, crying out for him, straining toward him. His gaze drifted over her. Hot. Hungry. Making her mouth water and her body weep.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” he asked, and slowly lifted his hand to her breast, stroking a caress almost absently over the creamy swell. She closed her eyes, savoring his light touch, but she felt it deep, so that her body reacted with a tightening, a cry for his. His fingers tugged at her nipple, sending a wave of heat rushing through her.

“Cup your breasts in your palms. Hold them out to me.” His voice lowered another octave, so husky now she could feel the rasp between her legs. She couldn’t help herself, blindly obeying, her hands coming up under the weight of her breasts, holding them for him like an offering.

Mack could barely breathe with wanting her. Anger and arousal intensified his growing desire. His cock was rock hard and the sight of her, offering her breasts to him, her body bare, the moisture gathering on her tiny midnight curls at the junction of her legs, only made him all the harder. She had a lot to answer for, not the least of which was how she made him feel. Looking at her, knowing she had dared to leave him, knowing she’d entrusted her information to someone other than him, made him furious. And right now fury was alive and well, mixing with lust, giving him a need to dominate, to exert control, even to punish her for her betrayal.

She was so beautiful. Her breasts rose and fell, cupped erotically in her own palms. Her nipples were hard pebbles, her skin flushed. She trembled, her stomach tight with arousal, her thighs quivering. He took his time, his movements unhurried when desire coursed through him like a firestorm. His lips settled around her breast, drew the soft flesh into the heat of his mouth, his tongue flicking the taut pebble of her nipple so that a low moan escaped. He caught that little bead in his mouth, suckled strongly, raked with the edge of his teeth, so that she gave another choking, inarticulate cry.

His hand dropped to slide through the moisture gathered in her curls, now slick with welcome. Her body shuddered in response. He lifted his head and when she went to drop her hands he stopped her, shaking his head. “Just stand there waiting for me. Just like that. I love the way you look offering your body to me.”

There was that note again, the one she couldn’t resist. He didn’t take his gaze from hers as he stripped off his clothes and tossed them aside. He was hard, beautiful, his shaft thick and pulsing against his stomach. His heavy erection looked almost as intimidating as the dark promise in his eyes. Her body was shaking now, every nerve ending stretched taut. She’d seen him like this before, and knew what was coming. Mack liked to prolong the anticipation, stretching her out on a tormenting rack of pure pleasure. He’d bring her again and again right to the brink of satisfaction and keep her poised there, never taking her over the edge until she was pleading with him for relief, for anything he wanted. And he always succeeded. His possession was her dark addiction and he knew it and used it whenever he was on edge.

“Get on your hands and knees, Jaimie.” His voice was nearly hoarse, yet velvet soft and firm.

She did so, very slowly, watching him the entire time. He just stood, his movements unhurried, his hand absently stroking his erection. Her mouth watered. She touched her tongue to her lips, not taking her eyes from the broad, flared head with the tempting small drops of moisture. She knew his taste intimately. Darkly male. Salty and unique.

He moved around her, dropping one hand onto her hip possessively. The feel of his heat was amazing. He knelt behind her, his fingers flexing at her hips once before gripping her hard. She was unprepared for his entrance. He slammed into her hard, burying himself to the hilt, the velvet steel pushing through the tight folds of her muscles, sending flames racing through her body and scraping over the tight bundle of sensitive nerves until she felt raw and inflamed and so needy she couldn’t stop her gasping breath. He hammered into her, over and over, driving her up fast. Jaimie heard the roar of blood in her head, her pulse thundering. He was rough, but so careful of not hurting her. She loved the way he felt, so thick, invading her over and over, going deep, so deep she swore he was in her stomach. She was so close she pushed back hard, reaching for release. His fingers fisted in her hair and he pulled her head back, suddenly stopping all movement.

Mack leaned forward, his body over her back, his cock a steel spike buried deep in her pulsing body. He put his lips against her ear. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to a man to know the woman who belongs to him doesn’t trust him?”

She stiffened. She could feel the anger running through him like a raging river. He pulled back, nearly all the way out, until she gave a protesting sob, following his body with hers. He slammed his body harder into hers. Her womb convulsed. Her body rippled, clutched at his, but he stopped again, leaving her gasping, needing. Mack at his most lethal with her. She recognized danger. His deliberate seduction hadn’t been about lying beside her all night needing her body. This was something altogether different.

“Mack, please.”

He bit her shoulder. Hard. His tongue swirled over the ache. “Don’t Mack me. Who the fuck do you trust with your life when you don’t trust me? Joe? Is it Joe, Jaimie? Fucking tell me who it is.”

“Not Joe.” She tried to move, but his body locked hers beneath him, his fist tight in her curls. She tried to clear her mind. “You pulled the plug on the back-trace. I knew I was stirring up a hornet’s nest, but I wanted that last nail in the coffin.”

His fingers tightened in her scalp almost, but not quite, to the point of pain.

“Those two men who came here to question you would have destroyed your computers and then they would have killed you. They were definitely Black Ops.”

“I knew I was taking a chance, Mack, but I had to do it. I had to make certain you were protected.” She held perfectly still. His shaft pulsed and jerked in her, sending hot waves spiraling through her body.

“Phillip Thornton might want Kane and Brian dead, because he doesn’t want Whitney exposed. And he certainly can’t afford for his new identity to come under scrutiny, so getting rid of Kane and Brian is a good idea for him. Getting rid of you is even better. But there is no way Whitney or this Thornton are the ones trying to murder GhostWalkers. They put too much into us. They think of themselves as patriots. Thornton took the heat and disappeared in order to help Whitney arrange his own death. These men believe in the GhostWalker program.”

“So he would kill Kane and Brian and me, but not the rest of you?” Jaimie asked.

“We aren’t a threat to him.” Mack pulled out and slammed home again. Her tight sheath clamped down around him like a vise. She was so close, but he held her release just out of reach. “Well, I intend to make certain he won’t send Kane and Brian on any more suicide missions,” Jaimie said. “And I want Whitney stopped.”

“Honey.” Mack kissed the side of her neck, suckled there for a moment, branding her. “It won’t ever matter what proof you have, they’ll only discredit you.” He knelt back up, still retaining possession of her hair. His voice changed, the anger breaking through. “Stop fucking around and tell me who else you’ve trusted with this information and why you trusted them, and not me.”

Jaimie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. He looked cool and calm, but she knew him far too well. He was not only angry, he was hurt. Really hurt.

“Mack.” She had to work to keep her voice from trembling. He always affected her that way. She’d never been able to stand up to him when he became like this. It was far worse being naked. “Great interrogation technique. This isn’t fair.”

“You trusted someone else and you didn’t tell me. Did you expect me to be happy?”

“I gave you the information I had on Phillip Thornton. Any information I have on Whitney or proof I’ve collected, I have no problem sharing with you.”

“Why, Jaimie?” he asked, his voice quieter than ever.

She couldn’t stop herself from pushing back against him, trying desperately to force him to keep moving, but he held her firm, refusing to give her release. She set her teeth. “You stopped the trace.”

“Griffen’s phone has been bugged for a while. The setup’s been in place and they wouldn’t suddenly change it. Someone else was trying to get information about you. You, Jaimie. They were coming after you and it wasn’t Whitney or Thornton. Whoever is against Thornton and Whitney is also against every GhostWalker.” He bent his head until his lips were nearly against hers, his dark eyes boring into hers.

“Let me tell you something, baby. Whether you like it or not, you’re a GhostWalker.”

Jaimie let her breath out in a little hiss. “All right, Mack. I’ll concede you might have been right. I’ve been concentrating on finding out everything I could about Whitney. I might have accidentally stumbled onto these others without knowing it, but if we find out who they are…”

She tried to push back, to move her hips in a slow circle, but his fingers gripped her hard and he held her firmly against him until she could feel the very rise and fall of his breath through his thick, hot shaft.

“No. You’re in enough trouble with what you have. They were going to kill you, Jaimie. Thornton ordered a hit on you.” He smacked her butt, as if he couldn’t stop the spurt of anger rushing through him, sending waves of heat like a flash through her system. “The dead teacher, Jaimie. That was your warning and you knew it at the time. Who else had access to your file? Thornton was telling you to back off Whitney, but you didn’t listen so he sent his goon squad. They were going to torture you to find out what you knew and if you’d told anyone else. And then they were going to kill you.” He enunciated each word carefully as if she might not be able to understand him.

She could feel hurt radiating off of him in waves. It was crippling, the way the emotion battered at her, swamped her, reached out and claimed her. Betrayal. That was what it felt like to him. She’d already turned him inside out and now this. She didn’t want to experience his emotions but somehow, their energies were so knitted together that she did, regardless of her own desires.

Jaimie closed her eyes as her body rippled with need. “I’m well aware they were sent to kill me, Mack. I had to take the chance.”

He went absolutely still as comprehension dawned. “You knew they’d kill you.”

His breath caught in his lungs. “Oh, God, Jaimie. You knew they were going to kill you.”

She nodded slowly, afraid to move now. “Yes. I had to find a way to keep you all safe.”

“Damn it, Jaimie. It was suicide.” His hands gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Did you even for one moment think about me?”

“You’re all I was thinking of,” she defended. “You were out there risking your life, and you didn’t even know the danger was from the one sending you out.”

Mack’s fingers flexed on her hip. For a moment he laid his cheek against her back, breathing deep, his hands caressing her skin. “I don’t want to live in a world without you in it, Jaimie.” His mouth pressed tightly against her spine. “Never put yourself in jeopardy like that again.”

Her heart turned over. The fury was gone from him in an instant. She’d delivered more than a body blow; it had been a knockout punch. She hadn’t meant to shake him. Her decision had seemed so intelligent at the time, her way of saving him, the only way she could.

He trailed kisses along her spine. “I don’t know what this is between us, Jaimie, but it isn’t just sex. You’ve never been just sex to me. Don’t sacrifice yourself, not for me, not for anyone. If I didn’t have you, what would be the point?”

Were there tears in his voice-dropping like burning acid along her back? She couldn’t tell and when she tried to turn her head to look over her shoulder at him, he began moving again. Her body responded instantly as he drove deep, a sizzling stroke of pleasure that sent rockets going off in her head. She gasped and pushed back into him, merging, one skin, one breath. Her eyes burned. It was always this way, the mindless pleasure coursing through her veins, her every nerve ending alive the moment he moved in her.

He could rule her body and heart so easily, and right then, when he’d been so furious with her, she felt more emotion from him than ever. It felt like love. Every stroke. Each time he thrust into her, driving deep, taking her up, swelling inside her, pulsing with her, while her sheath tightened around him, gripping with hot intent. She heard his groan, knew he was close. He stopped and she nearly cried. Mack leaned over her body again with infinite slowness, this time pressing against her most sensitive spot, sending her body spasming, the roar of her orgasm tearing through her womb and up to her stomach so that she went into overdrive, shaking, shuddering. She felt the hot splash of his seed deep inside, but instead of his hoarse cry, she felt his mouth at her ear, his lips moving, small, soft brushes against her lobe. I love you.

Her heart clenched. Her mind stilled. She wasn’t certain he’d actually said the words, but she felt them etched into her mind.

Did you hear me?

She knew better than to look at him. She barely inclined her head, wanting to weep with joy. It was so like him to pick this moment when she didn’t know whether he was angry, sad, or overwhelmed with physical lust, but emotion rocked his voice and that was enough for her.

Don’t ever leave me, Jaimie.

He knelt up, slowly pulled his body from hers to get shakily to his feet. He helped her up and pulled her into his arms, just holding her to him, his face buried against her neck. “You can’t ever do something like that again. I want you to stop this, Jaimie.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes.

She saw so much raw emotion there it shook her. “You have to hear me on this, Mack. Really listen to me, because it’s important. My programs and computers are my weapons. In my own way, I’m still out there fighting like you are. You risk your life and you wanted me right there with you. I can’t do that, but I can do this. Why is risking my life any different than you risking yours?”

He frowned. Opened his mouth. Closed it. “Damn it, Jaimie.” His fingers tightened on her shoulders and he pressed his forehead tight against hers. “Just damn it.”

“That’s what you always say when you know I’m right.” She brought her hands up to his chest. “I’m good at what I do, just as you are. I’ve never asked you to stop, Mack. I wanted you to open your eyes and see what Whitney was. It was too late to undo what he did to us, so okay, we have to live with it, but we don’t have to close our eyes to what he is or what he’s capable of doing. I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll keep you informed every single step of the way.”

“Who did you send your backup to?”

“Another GhostWalker, a woman good with computers. I ran into her hacking the CIA computer.”

“You can’t hack their program.”

“I can if I wrote it. She couldn’t. She was looking for the same thing I was. We’ve been sharing information”-she held up her hand-“and before you lose your mind, I’m careful.”

“Did it occur to you she might be a plant?”

“She was more worried about me than I was about her,” Jaimie said. “I hacked into her computer and found all her files. We established an uneasy truce and I sent her several things she didn’t have on Whitney. She doesn’t know who I am. I know her identity, though. She’s married to a GhostWalker. She was an orphan Whitney experimented on. He gave her cancer more than once.”

“You have to go, Mack,” Kane called over the intercom.

Mack sighed. “Give me a few more minutes, Kane. I’m gathering intel.” He began pulling on his clothes. “Get dressed, baby. And don’t leave this place while I’m gone. Stick close to the boys.” He leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I’m going to take out Thornton and any threat to Kane, Brian, and Sergeant Major.”

“Just be careful,” she cautioned.

“My middle name.”