Page 93 of Don't Let Go

The tension was a delicious spiral. The laughter only fed the languid heat, the tension so tight it threatened to snap. Then I came, sudden and abrupt. The orgasm startled me as my vision whited out. I hadn’t realized how close I was. Clinging to him, I wanted to draw out more for both of us but he let out a shout as my inner muscles spasmed around him.

He fused his mouth to mine as he filled me, much like he’d kissed the gasps from my lips when McQuade had done the same. We collapsed together. Gradually, the little bumps in the road, the hum of the wheels, and the creak of the metal penetrated the haze around us.

I stroked my fingers over his scalp, as much massaging the skin there as savoring the right to touch him. We were both panting and his heart seemed to be beating as fast as mine. Even as we closed the distance toward the fight ahead.

It was more than okay. We had this interlude to be drunk on each other. There would be more.

Dammit, I wanted more. I wanted them and we were going to win for real. Then… then we could have this.

Chapter

Thirty-One

REMY

Forty-eight hours later, I followed the GPS toward the sprawling estate in a North Virginia suburb of Washington D.C. Power brokers came in all shapes and sizes. This one was retired military intelligence who amassed wealth considerably more than his pension would support.

Patch identified five separate revenue streams, all funneled through projects he was either in charge of or on the “board” of. His wife brought generational wealth into the marriage, but not enough to account for the literal hundreds of millions safely stored away in off-shore accounts.

Once we’d retrieved the safe deposit box from the tiny little local bank in Leesburg Patch used, she was able to open the dark web IP address she’d locked the data mine away in. Fortunately, she hadn’t had to go to the bank herself. Hot on the heels of someone having gotten so close to her again, we were all running at full caution.

Locke was more than happy to fetch the box, using her keywords, codes, and memorizing a thirty-six-digit number for the account itself.

I didn’t mind admitting I was impressed. Once she had thesnow globeof all things, everything went into motion.

“I’m still not a fan of leaving you there by yourself,” Locke complained. While I didn’t disagree, her reasoning and logic were sound.

“So you’ve said,” she answered in a patient voice. “However, these concerns are why we picked this extremelywell litrest area to park the rig. All three of you vetted it, and I’m plugged into all the local security and cameras…”

The huff Locke released said heknewbut he wasn’t satisfied with it. None of us would be until at least one of us was back with her. Unfortunately, the plan in play required coordination, three separate targets, and Patch in the chair playing conductor every bit as much as operator.

Unperturbed, Patch continued, “Which are currently showing me all clear. I also have two guns. The one under my desk and the other next to the coffeemaker.”

“Left a third one for you in the loo,” I chimed in. Luck had been on our side, along with a little forethought, to make sure she was armed. We were going to keep playing that card. “Velcro’d to the wall next to the chain.”

“Still don’t like it,” Locke muttered.

“Stop your bitching,” McQuade ordered. “We agreed to the plan. Sugar Bear agreed to the plan. Do your damn job.”

The grousing was so McQuade. Unrefined, blunt to the point of painful, and very much a what you saw was what you got type of man, he also possessed incredible loyalty, determination, and a fierce kind of devotion to the woman who held all of our hearts.

“Be nice boys, we’re all on the same side.” Her scold had one corner of my mouth turning up. A lot of our conversations as a group went this way. If McQuade wasn’t trying to take the piss out of me, he was doing it to Locke.

“That is nice,” Locke commented, a grin in his voice. “For McQuade that’s downright genial.”

Shaking my head, I reserved my own opinion. Roughly a mile from my target’s property, I parked behind a hotel and took out my backpack before setting off overland.

There were any number of approaches I could take to St. James’ place, the retired colonel had decent security on his property, including a gatehouse, and electronic gate that didn’t allow you in without being buzzed by the house.

The guard in the gatehouse was only there during the day. Otherwise, it was all camera surveillance and monitoring from another location. I studied the angles, the lack of blindspots required Patch and I to work in tandem. The system, however, had protocols to deter hacking. We would be on a clock from the moment she started redirecting the cameras.

Looping them would set off an alarm. So would a reset. While knocking out the power might seem a good idea, the house had generators and it would also trigger another set of protocols.

Complicated, however, only took you so far. Patch had come up with a far easier idea. Once I was in position with the fence in sight, I tapped my comm. “Ready for my kiss.”

Her throaty laugh titillated, particularly after savoring her orgasmswhileshe laughed. Sex and humor had become my favorite companions. Particularly when it came to her.

“Kiss incoming, three seconds, then start your clock.”

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