Page 8 of Nightstalker

“Speaking of which, how do you want to handle the Black Dolphin issue?” I asked. It was his team and ultimately his call.

“We hold off as long as we can. I will not flat out lie to her, but I will put her on ice as long as I can. I told you, she is smart as hell. She will not be put off for long. I would not be surprised if she is already pestering the hell out of Eric. I am already worried about him. He puts on this joker of the team front, but he is still hurting. He bears scars for me and for Jasmin. Something he does not want to her to know, by the way,” Zane responded. He looked as tired as I felt.

“I hear that. We all have memories that are better left buried.” I set my empty glass on the glass table in front of me.

“Some more than others.” I heard Zane mutter under his breath. I knew my brother had a thick layer of scar tissue built up around him like a fortress. No one walks away from what he has done unscathed.

“I’m gonna bounce, big brother. I haven’t slept much in the last seventy two hours. Thanks for… well, everything.” I stood and grabbed my pack. Zane did the same to walk me to the door.

“One more thing before I go. I was thinking about Deepweb336. The Russians are too obvious. I have a bad feeling we are being led around by our dicks with this one. It is too much of a coincidence that the Russians were freed from the Black Dolphin and two weeks later they are in on a CIA hack. Something smells like shit with that.” I had been thinking over this case on my long ten hour flight home from Russia.

“Shit, I don’t believe in coincidences, and I don’t trust those spooks. They’ll screw you to save their own asses. I am pleased as fuck you are out.” The look of relief was obvious on Zane’s face.

“Copy that! I am outta here; get some rest big brother. You look like hell.” I joked as I made my way out the door. Zane flipped me the finger for my efforts.

“Welcome home.” Zane always had to get in the last word.

I chuckled, and with a hand over my shoulder I waved and made my way to the double doors in the main office.

I stopped at the biometric scanner, placing four fingers on the screen. When the high tech lock beeped, telling me it had accepted my finger print scan, I entered in my eight digit code. The door’s lock opened with a click and I exited into the hallway. Once again I stopped to engage another security effort and placed my face inches away from the retinal scanner to gain access to the elevator. Damn, Zane is an overzealous security freak. I knew I would have to engage one more biometric finger print scanner once I exited off the elevator down stairs to enter the back room of Z Corp’s public reception area. No one gained access to the inner sanctum of headquarters without an escort through the secured areas.

Damn I just want to get home, have a cold beer, and get some rest. If I was lucky I might get a few hours of sleep before I had to come back for Deepweb336 briefing. Something was not sitting right with me about the Russian’s involvement, it was just too convenient. My gut was screaming “Set up!”

***

After driving around the city trying to clear my head, exhaustion won out over the excitement of being back stateside. I pulled into the driveway of my new home and found a kick ass Honda CBR1000 Superbike, matte black with a kick ass red pin stripe graphics kit, parked in front of the house. Damn I forgot to ask Zane who lived on the other side of the old Victorian duplex he owns. I pulled my bike up next to my new neighbor’s and parked. Hopefully he’d be a cool cat and we could go riding together sometime. Rolling my sore shoulder, I fixed my pack and headed towards the house. I fumbled with the old lock of my front door when I heard a faint footstep. I stopped, standing stock still, and listened. I silently slid my right hand to my holster, palming my sidearm. I heard the noise again, only closer this time, in one smooth fluid movement I slide my HK45 out of its holster. With practiced ease my thumb pressed the safety off and I turned, leveling my HK ready to take out whatever crazy fuck was trying to sneak up behind me. At the exact moment my HK pressed into the fucker’s face I had a Sig shoved in mine.

“Make one more move mother fucker and I will shoot your ass and burn your body! What the fuck are you doing on my porch?” I heard the sexiest voice I have ever heard growl. Fuck me, she was turning me on while she had a gun to my head. This might not have been the best time to get a hard on, but damn, the woman was fine as hell.

“God damn, woman you are sexy as shit when you are handling that piece.” That evidently was not the right answer. The gun was lowered, and the round kick to the back of my knee made me stumble forward in an effort to regain my balance. Not a particularly imaginative maneuver and something that would not have been successful had all my blood not been rushing to my dick.

“You must be shit dumb! What in the ever loving fuck are you doing lurking around my house in the middle of the night? You lookin’ to get a bullet in your other shoulder? You want a matching set? I’d be happy to oblige.” Jasmin was spitting mad. Damn.

“Anyone ever tell you that you cuss a lot? Shit, woman you say “fuck” more than most the men I was in combat with.” I knew I should just stop now and explain why I was on the porch, but for some perverse reason I could not stop pissing her off. I liked the fire she got in her eyes when she was ready to do battle.

I looked Jasmin over from her crazy ass messy bun that held her silky whiskey colored hair haphazardly on her head, down to a white cotton wife beater tank top. Down further to the pair of men’s boxers she had rolled over at the waist making them sit low on her tiny hips. Hot damn!

“Eyes up here, fucker! As for my vocabulary, if you don’t fucking like it, eat shit. Now I know you have a hard time answering direct questions in English, perhaps a different language would suit you better. Unfortunately for you I am too tired to fuck around trying to find one. What are you doing on my porch?” She said through gritted teeth. The girl was going to need a dentist by the time we were done the way she was grinding her teeth.

“I live here. You are actually on my porch. I believe yours is about ten feet to the right,” I said simply. Then I flashed my best thousand megawatt smile. The one I knew had most women dropping their panties at the sight of it.

Chapter Five

Jasmin

“The fuck you say?” I asked, completely stunned.

Did he just say he lived here? What in the hell was Z thinking? How in God’s name was I going to sleep with Mr. DDG sleeping in the next apartment with only a thin wall separating us?

After the meeting I rode around the city trying to relax and clear my mind. When I finally got home it still took me almost an hour to finally close my eyes and not think about the sex I undeniably wanted to have with him. Not even the memories of my capture and torture could stop the sexy replay reel of him walking in the conference room. Just thinking about it now I could feel my nipples getting hard through my thin tank top, and once again, my life sucked. I was not wearing a bra. Maybe the heavens would bless me and he would not notice. I looked back at his face and yup, they were laser focused on my nipples. FML! Why couldn’t I catch a break with this guy?

“Ahem.” I cleared my throat hoping to get his attention. His eyes met mine and that sexy smirk was back on his face.

“What? Are you the one with the issues understanding the English language?” Linc asked as he inched his way closer to me. “Ich wohne hier.” He whispered in my ear repeating, I live here, in German. His accent was perfect. Of course it would be. Every damn thing about him seemed to be perfect. Why wouldn’t his German be flawless as well?

“Whatever!” Yes, I was reduced to the verbal equivalent of a fifteen year old.

In my defense it was hard to think when Linc had his body so damn close to mine and I could smell that ‘I wanna have sex’ scent on him again. I was also trying to figure out if that was his gun brushing up against my bare thigh or if it was his hard on. Surely a man as sexy as Lincoln Parker would not get a hard on from a little nipple action. Only from what I was feeling, the long hard length against my thigh was bigger than the HK barrel of eight inches. I lightly pushed my thigh against it to double check, just for research and technical purposes of course.