Resurrection Read online

  “You get any sleep last night?” he asked.

  “Not much.”

  Yeah, he understood that. On missions, sleep was fleeting. Especially a mission where someone’s life was in your hands. “Grab some shut-eye. We’ve got a couple hours’ drive.”

  “You don’t want to grill me?” Disbelief laced her voice.

  “Oh, I will. But we’ll do it on even footing.” And not until he’d settled down first. “Get some sleep,” he ordered.

  She rolled her eyes but released the lever and leaned the seat back a few inches. Eyes closed, she murmured, “I’ll sleep because I want to, not because you ordered me to.”

  He fought a grin. God, that was his Skye. His pretty little liar. With a unique heritage, her skin had a soft olive glow year-round, as if she was a perpetual beach bunny. In reality she hated beaches or even relaxing. Her idea of a vacation was… Well, what she’d just done at the Ramirez compound. A complex woman raised by spies, who’d both died in the field. He’d only found that out after a couple months of sleeping with her.

  And she’d kept him at arm’s length for those first couple months, only committing to monogamy but not much else. He’d known he’d get under her armor, get into her blood just like she was in his. Or he’d been determined to try. Apparently not determined enough, since she’d ghosted on him.

  Only a few minutes passed before she fell asleep and he had to admit he was surprised. But she had to know she could trust him. He’d rather eat a bullet than hurt her in any way. It was the only reason she was allowing herself this vulnerability. And she had to be exhausted. Pulling off the kind of rescue she had with little to no resources—and he was just guessing, because she hadn’t even been wearing a vest—was tiring. Working with no backup… He’d been like that before her.

  And he’d charged down here to save Mary Grace without backup too, reverting back to who he’d been before Skye. Because the thought of working with anyone but her had been unbearable.

  At least he’d done something right. Mary Grace was as safe as safe could be. Thirty minutes later he received a text from the pilot that they’d landed and were headed to Corpus Christi. Then he received another text from Mercer telling him that they’d heard from Mary Grace and would be seeing her soon. It was apparent from the text that Mercer was annoyed Colt wasn’t with Mary Grace, but he had to do this for MG to make sure this didn’t follow her home.

  “Everything cool?” Skye asked without opening her eyes, her breathing still as steady as it was when she was sleeping.

  “Yeah. MG’s in Laredo, headed to meet Mercer now.”

  “Good. I like her. She’s got a lot of spirit.”

  “Yeah, she does.” Kind of like another woman he knew. He wouldn’t rest until he knew Mary Grace was with Mercer, however. “So what’s this threat you’re facing?”

  “What makes you think I’m facing anything?” Her voice was quiet but she didn’t open her eyes, barely moved at all.

  She’d always been able to do that, go impossibly still. It was why she was one of the best snipers he’d ever known. The outside world could be going to hell and she’d still be under control. That was his girl: cool, calm, and collected, right up until she put a bullet between your eyes.

  She hadn’t been raised like most kids though. He understood that. Mainly because his father had been a Marine just like him. He hadn’t believed in tears or emotions, just cold, hard logic when tackling a problem. If his dad ever met Skye, he wouldn’t know what to make of her. He’d probably end up challenging her to a shooting contest.

  “Because you wouldn’t have left me like that,” he answered.

  “You’re so sure of that.” Her words were cold, flat, stealing the breath from his chest. For a moment only.

  But he knew her. In a way she’d never let anyone else see her, and so he knew that she was only trying to protect herself now. That crap wouldn’t work on him. “I am sure.”

  She was silent then, and he let it drop. For now. Only once they were at the safe house would he get his answers. One way or another.

  * * *

  “Not bad as far as safe houses go. This an Agency one?” Skye asked as they stepped into the two-bedroom condo. The city of Saltillo was industrial yet charming. Most tourists flocked to the west coast of Mexico or to the beaches, completely ignoring parts of the northeastern territory. Which made sense, considering how rampant cartel violence in the state of Coahuila was. Only Saltillo and two other places in Coahuila were considered safe—that still being a very, very relative word. Hell, US government personnel were only allowed to travel to Saltillo during daylight hours. And forget about traveling to the majority of the rest of the state ever.

  “No.”

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to expand any, she did a quick sweep of the sparse place. Sturdy furniture, including two soft beds, no bugs—neither the creepy crawly kind nor listening devices—and running water. Pretty much all she needed for comfort. “So what’s the plan?” she asked, trying to ignore the way he made her feel. It had been like that from the moment they’d met. He was a sexy, infuriating distraction. One she’d hated living without.

  Leaning against the frame of one of the windows in the small living room, half turned away from her as he looked at his cell phone, he said, “MG is officially safe with her husband. He’s got backup with him as well, so they’re going to lie low in Corpus Christi. Brooks is putting everyone up in some five-star place using cash.”

  Skye nodded. Colt had once told her that Brooks’s dad was incredibly wealthy. His family owned some sort of ranching dynasty or something. Something to do with horses and cows—things that also terrified her. Why would anyone get up on a giant animal and try to ride it? Even if horses were gorgeous, you could never tell what those beasts were thinking. Cows were even worse.

  “And the plan,” Colt said, looking up at her as he shoved his phone into his front pocket, “is you give me some answers right now.”

  No way. “What about Ramirez? I want to make contact.”

  “He’ll be in town in the morning.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Got the info from one of the analysts working the Coahuila region. Not only do I know where he’s going to be tomorrow, I also have copies of recordings from David’s brother talking about staging a coup once his father was dead. Nasty stuff. Combined with the blood vials, we’ll have a good chance of getting him to back off Mary Grace.”

  “I have a pretty decent file on the Ramirez family too, but no recordings. That’s gold.” And oh, how they could use that to their advantage. David Ramirez would kill Rafael if he heard him talking about trying to take over. It would solidify David’s position, eliminating any chance he looked weak. “Does the Agency know you’re here?”

  “Other than the analyst, not yet. But I’m going to reach out to the lead agent working the Ramirez cartel. Guy will have no problem letting me contact David Ramirez if it means David kills his brother.”

  “Are you going to tell anyone about me?”

  “No.”

  She relaxed a little. “I’d prefer to meet with David, but if you won’t let me, I’ll be your backup.”

  “Good. You’re a better shot than me anyway.”

  She snorted. Long range she was better, only because she was steadier. But he was incredible too. And he’d always insisted he was the best, which meant he was trying to soften her up. Not that it would take much. Living without him had made her edgy.

  Skye glanced over to the window. Being so close to him after all this time was torture, especially since she had to conceal her true feelings for him. While every part of her was dying to wrap around him and never let go, she had to pretend she was indifferent.

  Dusk had fallen, and though she could eat, she didn’t want to head out anywhere. It wasn’t as if anyone had gotten a good look at her when she’d rescued Mary Grace, but she tried to keep a low profile everywhere.

  “I’m so pissed at you,
” he snapped abruptly, not exactly a surprise.

  She’d be beyond hurt if he had disappeared from her life the way she had from his, but she couldn’t make him a target for that psycho. “Colt—”

  He moved like lightning, so fast she hadn’t even seen him approaching. His mouth was on hers before she could get another word out, his big body pressed up against hers, moving, moving, until her back slammed against something. A wall.

  He shoved his fingers through her hair, holding her head in place as he devoured her, seemingly unable to get enough. Right back at you—because she couldn’t either. Her nipples tightened and heat flooded between her thighs as he ground his hips against her. Doing this was stupid, would only hurt both of them in the long run, but apparently neither of them cared.

  Skye knew she sure as hell didn’t. Pretending to be indifferent to him? Even she wasn’t that good of an actress. Not around Colt anyway. He stripped her until she was emotionally naked, vulnerable, unable to hide who she truly was to him. The man saw straight through to the core of her.

  She ached to feel him inside her, had indulged in multiple fantasies about it while she’d been in hiding. Thinking about him, dreaming about him had been torture because touching herself had never been good enough. She’d always been left wanting more, wanting…him. Always him. Only him.

  She hated that she’d been cold to him in the vehicle earlier when he said he knew she wouldn’t have left him if she hadn’t been in danger, but keeping her walls up was the only sane thing to do. The only right thing to do. Too bad they were crumbling down around her.

  He nipped her bottom lip, pressed down hard enough to sting and she moaned, reaching for the hem of her shirt and tearing it off. They were both frantic as they undressed each other. Then, she was naked.

  Mostly, anyway. She hadn’t managed to get her panties off and when Colt saw them, he started to laugh at the text on the front of her boyshort panties that read It’s not going to lick itself. Just as suddenly all the muscles in his oh-so-fine body tightened and he slammed a hand against the wall, all humor gone.

  “Have you been with anyone since you left?” His expression was completely savage, the muscles in his neck pulling tight.

  “No! Have you?” Suddenly she was indignant, even though she’d been the one to leave and he’d thought she was dead. But it had only been six months. If he’d been with someone else…

  “No.” And he looked even angrier—something she hadn’t thought was possible—that she’d asked. “And if you had been, I’m not civilized enough to have been okay with it. You’re mine.”

  A thrill shot through her at his words. Oh yeah, he stripped her right to the core. “There’s never been anyone but you.” Not literally, but once she’d crossed that line with him, she couldn’t have slept with someone else. It would have felt wrong on every level.

  She’d never thought she’d give her heart so utterly and completely to someone, but just like with everything else in her life, she didn’t fall in love half-assed.

  Giving a growl of what sounded like approval, he grasped the edge of the underwear and tugged them downward as he went to his knees. She kicked them away as he grabbed one of her legs and threw it over his shoulder.

  And he wasn’t gentle either. They’d had rough, gentle and everything in between, and she knew what right now was going to be.

  Aaaaaand all thought fled her mind as his mouth connected with her core. He held her open wide, tonguing her as if he was starving and she could hardly stand it. He knew every single inch of her body, had kissed and teased it. Just like he was right now.

  Her muscles were pulled taut, slickness coated her and all she could do was stare at his dark head as he stroked and teased her with his tongue. She’d missed this, craved Colt and all his raw intensity. Just like her, he never did anything half-assed either. He wouldn’t be satisfied until she was coming and moaning out his name. She sucked in a breath, another moan escaping as he zeroed in on her clit.

  It wouldn’t be long now. She shoved one hand through his hair and cradled her breast with her other. Rolling her nipple back and forth between her thumb and forefinger, she could barely keep her eyes open as he continued teasing her. She wanted to let her head fall back, to give in to the pleasure, but a part of her she didn’t want to admit existed was terrified that if she closed her eyes, he’d disappear. That she’d wake up and discover this had all been a dream. She’d wake up alone in one of her shitty safe houses, aching for him and what might have been.

  “Feels…” She couldn’t even get the word good out, much less incredible or spectacular. His tongue was magic and wonderful and she wanted to always be doing this with him.

  “Come,” he growled against her slickness.

  Her inner walls clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled by him. She could come without it, her body was certainly begging to, but… “In me first,” she rasped out.

  He let out a strangled sound and pulled away from her. Her leg fell from his broad shoulder as he moved, but her foot didn’t have time to touch the floor before he hoisted her up against the wall. Then he pushed her legs farther apart and thrust inside her, invading and taking everything she had to offer.

  “Colt!” The feel of him stretching her was way too much and yet not enough. She wrapped her legs around him, her mouth moving toward his even as his head descended toward her.

  Scraping her fingers down his back, she savored the feel of all his strength under her fingertips. She’d missed this so much, wanted to drown in him. Her heart ached as he thrust into her, once, twice, over and over, the wall shaking under the impact of their bodies.

  Needing to touch him everywhere, she moved her hands to his front, stroking over his skin, over his chest and shoulders before she wrapped her arms around his back again. She couldn’t get enough of him.

  When he reached between their bodies and started teasing her clit with his thumb, she couldn’t hold off anymore. Didn’t want to. They had all night. And if this was the only night they got together, she was going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of it she could. She was greedy when it came to him. Always had been. Even if she’d been afraid to fully let go with him.

  She started coming around his cock, vaguely aware he didn’t have on a condom but she didn’t care because she was still on birth control. He growled something against her mouth as she came, her orgasm slamming through her. The pleasure of her climax spiraled out to all her nerve endings, her fingers and toes, until she was gasping.

  Her head fell back against the wall with a thud as she rode it out, the sensations almost too much. He joined her, thrusting harder and faster as he found his own release, his hands now on her hips, holding her so tight she knew he’d leave bruises.

  Good. She wanted him to mark her, to remember this night. Not that there was a chance she’d forget it. Eventually he stopped moving and when he pulled out of her it was an acute loss she felt bone deep. He cupped one side of her face so gently it almost brought tears to her eyes. But she hadn’t cried since…since she’d left him. She’d allowed herself to rage once, then she’d had to bottle it up to survive, to function.

  “I’ve missed you, Skye,” he said in a rough voice.

  “I’ve missed you too.” She’d missed him like she would miss oxygen. And she wanted to tell him what was wrong, why she’d faked her death. But if she did he’d be all noble and go up against a threat she couldn’t find. The threat was simply too big. She’d weighed all her options and come to the conclusion that there was only one way to keep Colt safe. Not only that, if she confessed what she’d done before faking her death, she would put him in an awful position.

  He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes—and she was very aware of the stickiness between her thighs. Not only that, but she was sore in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. Deliciously sore.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stood there that way and she didn’t care. Time had very little meaning right now.

/>   “I didn’t use a condom,” he finally murmured. Opening his eyes, he pulled back, but not by much. Just enough so he could look down at her. But his cock was still at half-mast, pressed tight between them.

  “I’m on birth control.” She’d never gone off. Old habits died hard. She might be physically strong and trained, but more than most she knew how bad the world could be. And she’d been an agent with the CIA for six years. They required all female agents in the field to be on birth control.

  Instead of responding, or even grilling her, as she’d suspected he might try, Colt scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and wordlessly headed to the master bathroom. It wasn’t large, but the shower stall was more than accommodating for two people.

  As the hot water pulsed over them, soaking them, she wrapped her arms around him and held tight. Closing her eyes, she pretended that this was before six months ago, before her life had gone to shit. Before she’d lost the love of her life.

  Chapter 7

  —Home isn’t a place.—

  Mary Grace couldn’t have calmed down even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t. Her heart raced as she waited for the door of the plane to open. The pilot was working with someone at this hangar, which made sense since they’d flown in under the radar.

  None of that mattered. The only thing that did was finally getting to see her husband.

  Part of her was terrified that this was a dream, that she was still in that house—that prison—and she’d wake up and have her heart ripped out all over again. But no, this was real. And one of her best friends was still in Mexico, determined to make things right for her and Mercer, make it so they’d be safe after all this insanity.

  “Come on, come on,” she muttered more to herself even though the pilot had stepped into the cabin. She was beyond grateful that she’d been given this freedom, but the seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly.