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Authors: Ninette Swann

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense

Just the Messenger (5 page)

BOOK: Just the Messenger
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She shot him a look over her shoulder. “What am I doing here, Gene? How can I help you if you never tell me anything? I haven’t even delivered anything for you for weeks.”

Gene nodded, her hair brushing against his cheek as he did so. “That’s because you’re no longer a messenger, Grace.”

“Well, then what am I?”

“You’re a spy. A messenger spy.”

She laughed, the sound lighting on the air’s stillness around them. “I’m an awful spy then. They’re the ones who are supposed to have all the answers.”

“Well, answer my question, then,” Gene replied. “Can you speak Spanish?”

“Yes. Why?”

“No reason.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to give you some background. It goes nowhere. Understand?”

She nodded.

“CableNette has hired us to protect Warren Bell and the information he’s procuring. They want that story, and they want it bad. You’ve heard of the IIB?” At her nod, he went on. “They’re the group Marco works for. They’ve offered protection, but the IIB wants Warren’s information
before
he breaks it through CableNette. That will cost CableNette a lot of money. Money they’d rather pay to me. Our job is to get that reporter’s findings on the news before Marco and the IIB take the evidence and secure it away.”

Gene struggled with his next message. “I’m going to say this quickly, one time, and you are going to follow instructions, okay?”

He waited, but she gave no response.

He slipped a small pistol into her white clutch. “I’ve just put a gun in your bag. Do you know how to shoot one?”

She shook her head no.

“We’ll have to go over that at some point, then. It’s no matter. This one is simple. It’s not meant to kill, although it could if aimed correctly and shot at the right distance. It’s meant to wound. There’s a safety catch on it. Slide it back before pulling the trigger.”

“Pulling the trigger?”

“Marco is in the sitting room. I need you to go shoot him.”

“What? No!”

“Grace,” Gene sighed. “You have to trust me here. Unless you’re an amazing shot, you will not kill him. You will only injure him. I need him out of commission. I need you to take his place as Warren Bell’s sidekick.”

Grace shook her head again. “I’m scared. What if the police are called? I can’t go to prison!”

“Here’s where you either trust me, or you step aside,” Gene said. “No harm will come your way from this, in terms of the law. That I promise you.” His look was meant to be mysterious, testing her, daring her. “Do one thing at a time. Right now, all you have to worry about is getting rid of Marco. He’s in the sitting room right now. It’s soundproof. I checked. Go get him.”

He smirked to himself as she walked away. Even though he had no intention of letting her shoot Marco—not that she had the personality to pull it off—he needed to see how loyal to him she really was.

Grace felt curls of fear deep in her belly and nausea rolling over her, but she turned and left him. She’d at least go to the sitting room. She wouldn’t make promises after that.

Her clutch was so heavy in her hands, even though the pistol couldn’t have weighed more than half a pound. Probably less. The knowledge that she was about to shoot someone, someone she liked, on the whim of her boss, shook her to her core. And to take over his job, his mission? Grace had always assumed Marco must be a spy, as well. Now that she knew he worked for the IIB, she was doubly reluctant to get involved. Who was she to go against a government operation?

She approached the sitting room with slow, careful steps. Peering through the heavy wooden doors that were opened only enough for a person to squeeze through, she saw Warren Bell striding toward her. The tall, dashing television personality oozed confidence, his picture perfect features calm and collected, though his gait was quick, urgent.

She had to twirl and duck away from the doors as he burst from the room, shouting jovially at some coworkers across the reception space. He hadn’t seen her, and she sighed in relief. Not allowing herself to pause again, she crept into the sitting room to find Marco studying a map tacked to the wall in the back corner.

It would be easy. All she had to do was open her purse, take out the pistol, aim it and shoot. She would get one shot. She felt woozy but forced the nausea back down. She brought up memories of that afternoon, when he had kissed her then sent her callously on her way, to remind herself that she was only a toy to this man, to make herself angry. It didn’t work. Seeing him there, head bent in concentration, his almond-shaped eyes intent on his work, she found herself frozen in place.

He looked up. “Grace.” He smiled warmly and took a step toward her.

She opened her purse, the sound of the snap too loud to her ears. He stopped and gazed at her, alarm etched on his face.

She pointed the pistol at him and closed her eyes, forcing her fingers to apply pressure to the trigger.

The clatter of the gun on the floor startled her more than the pain of her twisted wrist as Marco disarmed her expertly. How he’d gotten to her so quickly, she couldn’t be sure. He jacked her arm behind her back, pushing his thighs against hers, walking her against the wall by the door. Never taking his dark gaze from her face, he reached out his other arm to push the sitting room doors shut then brought his hand to her face.

“I should kill you, you know,” he whispered, his hungry gaze lingering on her lips.

“So why don’t you?”

Marco smiled. “Well,” he said, pinning her against the wall with the entire length of his body, “I wouldn’t want to take the life of such a lovely woman.”

She could feel the heat of his cock burning through her dress. He lowered his head just an inch to put them face-to-face, and the scent of cloves and cinnamon radiated off him, causing Grace’s head to spin. She wrenched her wrist, testing the strength of his hold, and contemplated dipping her body low against him to drop to the floor. She glanced around the room, looking for the pistol.

“It’s way over there,” he said, jerking his head to the left. “Even if you could get out of my hold, you’d never reach it in time.”

“What if I screamed?”

“You won’t.” And Marco slanted his lips over hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in a forceful kiss that silenced her and wiped all thought of escape from her mind.

Grace shuddered into Marco’s warmth. One of his large, callused hands swept the skirt of her evening gown over her shoulders, leaving her clad only in lace from the waist down. Keeping her still with the weight of his lower body, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped it and his coat off his shoulders then deftly switched arms so that he was still holding her wrist behind her. He allowed his garments to drop to the floor. Her breasts pressed against his naked torso, the tips grazing his skin through their satin covering, on fire at the touch. A wanton lake of desire opened within her, and she shifted, just slightly, allowing his powerful thigh to nudge hers apart. Their bodies melted together. She’d made her decision.

She would spend these moments in the arms of this chiseled secret agent, no matter that they were on opposing sides. She’d hand in her resignation tomorrow. How could a spy go against her heart? Apparently, she wasn’t cut out for this life, and she would not be ashamed to admit it to her smolderingly gorgeous boss. Gene would have to accept it. He’d have no choice. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had his chance with her. Grace couldn’t have been more obvious about her attraction to the blond-haired Adonis. Weeks ago, she had thought she’d seen desire for her in his smoky blue eyes, and when he’d kissed her, her world had toppled upside down. She’d wanted to pass this test, to prove herself to him. But she’d had no idea how sensual and provocative her target would be.

The lace of her panties slid off her backside, lowering to reveal her pulsing core. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she enjoyed the sensation of the flowing air. Marco drew her away from the wall, and she stiffened when soft fabric caressed her bare bottom.

“Marco? What—”

“You’ve failed.” The baritone voice murmuring in her ear was not Marco’s. A strong hand cupped her buttocks, and she felt a ramrod heat searing her from behind.

She looked up at her lover, her enemy. A smile played on his lips but didn’t reach his eyes. He groaned in need and looked beyond her.

“What should we do with her, Gene?”

The photographer didn’t answer but buried his face in her chestnut locks, inhaling deeply. His erection jutted up against her, making her quiver with a mixture of need and excitement.

“Gene, Marco,” she breathed, “what is this?”

The man behind her straightened, and she protested as his heat left her body. She thrust out her ass to connect with him again, even as he began to speak.

“Graciela Merced, you have failed your initiation. A spy must be ruthless, seductive but not yielding. You are far too supple, too giving, to work for our operation.” His voice faltered over the adjectives.

She could tell she was affecting his ability to think clearly. She rubbed up against him and sighed before asking, “So, Marco is not my enemy?”

Gene leaned down to kiss her neck, her collarbone, while Marco trailed his hands down her tight stomach with the lightest of touches. The simultaneous sensations caused her to tremble from the inside out.

“I’d say we’re both your enemy,” Marco whispered, his dark eyes flashing up at her as he took her cloth-covered breast into his mouth. She strained against his lips, and he teased with his teeth until Grace was writhing against him.

Gene slipped his hand down her thigh, and she gasped as a single finger entered her in one fluid motion. “Or both your friend,” Gene said, pushing his digit farther into her.

She didn’t understand what was going on, or what would become of her, but in that instant, she didn’t care. They’d probably kill her after this. She held their secrets, and she’d failed them. The only things that weren’t failing right now were her bronze skin, her supple lips and her generous backside. Her mind was screaming for answers, but she shut it off, choosing instead to listen to her body, which was screaming for the touches of the two men about whom she’d fantasized for weeks. She reached one hand around Marco’s thick neck, pulling him up to her for a searing, wrenching kiss. Her other arm wound its way to the front of Gene’s waist, angling him toward her again. She fumbled at his buttons, which she could not see. He growled and pushed her hand away. A moment later the sound of fabric hitting the hardwood floor reached her ears. Marco thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, tangling her hair in his hands. She undid the top of his pants, and those, too, fell to the floor.

There was nothing between her and the two sexy secret agents aside from her lacy stockings. One hot cock pressed up against her abdomen, another tantalized her lower back, sex mirroring life as she went back and forth between the two of them.

Marco reached around her to caress Gene’s shoulder, and the man behind her made a guttural sound in the back of his throat, squeezing Grace between them even tighter as he lunged at the agent in front of her. The two shared a kiss filled with raw passion, and as Grace watched, she felt liquid heat gathering at her center, dripping down her inner leg.

“Are you two…?” Her voice trailed off as Gene broke from the kiss and knelt behind her. He rummaged in his discarded pants’ pockets.

Marco tipped up her chin, forcing her to look at him, and took her mouth in a demanding rush. He tore away from her as quickly as he’d attacked and smiled.

“Let’s just say we’ve…worked together before.”

She sighed softly, totally hypnotized by his gaze. She could not believe this was happening. In ten minutes she had gone from trying to shoot someone to being caressed by the two most attractive men she had ever seen. She wanted to bolt, but the sensations running through her body kept her glued in place in fascination. Marco’s glance shifted, and his sculpted shoulders heaved as he acknowledged the stormy-eyed male behind her.

She felt a coldness tickle her most private area and pulled away instinctively.

“Hush, now,” Gene said softly, applying even more lube before tossing a condom to Marco. “We had to know what you were capable of. We needed to test your limits. When you leave on this mission, knowing what you can do will help us save your life if need be.”

“But what will happen when you’re through with me? When the mission is over?” Grace had to ask the question through gritted teeth as Marco’s tip pushed up into her. Her body tensed, and she had a fleeting moment of fear. She needed to get out of here. Hot or not, these two were lethal, and they would kill her. If not now, later. Not to mention she’d never had sex with two men at once before. She was fairly certain she would only just be able to handle one of them. Still, the sensations of both were driving her wild, driving her beyond herself.

As Gene entered from behind, her world went black with only sparks lingering on the edge of her peripheral vision. The only things that existed were the two cocks dueling for dominance within her. The groaning, pulsing men pushing rhythmically in and out of her, barreling toward climax.

Marco took her breast in his hand, adding teasing touch to the sensations ripping through her.

“Does it matter what happens when we’re through?” he whispered.

BOOK: Just the Messenger
12.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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