AllFreeNovel
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Dots bounce along the bottom of the screen.
Ryker: Back at the motel with takeout.
Me: Get anything good? I’m starving.
Ryker: Brisket from the BBQ place down the street. He said it was the best he’s had north of the Carolinas.
I frown. These guys can’t possibly like it here, can they?
Me: Don’t get too comfortable. We leave first thing tomorrow.
Ryker: Fine. I'll be hungover and sleeping.
That sounds about right.
Me: Just make sure you’re back by sunup in one piece, wildman.
Ryker: Will do.
Rubbing my temples to ease the tension of a headache forming because once we’re back in the city, that’s when the real work begins. Starting with pushing aside my pride and apologizing to Congressman Cohen. The sniveling little twerp. No wonder his wife strays. Not that I took any part in Mrs. Cohen’s extramarital affair, I glance at Ryker's name on my screen and shake my head.
Ryker and Tyson already know we're a dime a dozen when it comes to private security companies in the capital. Who knows for how much longer the story of the Four Horsemen brotherhood and our rescue of Senator Stamm's granddaughter will keep scoring us jobs? However, we won't attract any new clientele if we don't keep our dicks in our pants around busty Washington wives.
I scan the room for exits. Time to go.
I don't see any Brockers, and if I stay for a third bourbon I'm taking the lady in blue home with me.
MACK
I feel like a creep, and fate’s fucking with me as I slowly walk the perimeter of the party, trying to catch a glimpse of a woman I have no intention of talking to. It's been a while since a woman was so striking that she captured my attention that I can barely concentrate. Especially one standing across a crowded room with her back turned.
She keeps turning as though she’s playing an unknown game. Even beyond her shapely silhouette, she gives a hint of innocence that makes me smile. I probably look like some kind of predator with his eyes zeroed on his prey. And although the animal inside me wants to rip off her gown and bend her over, there's something deep inside me that wants to protect her. Hold her, caress her, and love her gently.
Everything from her elegant pose to the way her hair spills down her back simply, yet beautifully, attracts me. She's a rose in a field full of daisies and the way everyone's flocking to her shows she's more than a pretty face. She has charisma and a personality and she's so alluring that it’s hard to remember why I came here in the first place.
Turn around for me, beautiful. I just need one look at your angel face. Then I'll leave and think of you while I spend another lonely night between cold bed sheets. But not before I get a glimpse of that pretty face.
Rich chocolate waves spill down the center of her back, and I stifle a groan as I picture burying my fingers into her tresses, tilting her face up to meet mine. I need to see this woman. Fuck, I need to kiss this woman.
My gaze glides over her delicate winglike shoulder blade, and I imagine brushing my lips over its soft edge. I want to explore the dips and valleys of her soft skin along the length of her spine with my fingertips before tickling the voluptuous swell of her ass.
I definitely need to leave.
I start making a beeline for the door, but the sound of footsteps behind me halts me in my tracks. I turn and come face to face with Owen Brocker, and my fantasy bubble with the lady in blue pops.
This has to be Brocker. He has boss written all over him, and the rumors were true: He's built like a pro football player. I'm used to puny government officials, but this guy looks like he might be head of security himself. I’m not sure that I’d want to fuck with him.
Brocker flashes a genuine smile and extends his hand. "Sergeant Mackenzie, smokejumper, head of armed security, and overall badass, it's nice to meet you."
I huff out a laugh. A man who does his homework and knows my entire history.
"I'm Owen Brocker. I apologize for being late; the little ones got sick tonight."
A family man, nice. His handshake is firm, and his eyes are honest. I can see why Chuck wanted me to meet him. "Not a problem, Mr. Brocker. And I just go by Mack these days."
"Okay, Mack." He nods at a server, who walks over with two glasses of bourbon and Brocker hands me another drink.
So much for making it a two-bourbon night.
