Page 49 of Always Been Mine

Her heart swelled with emotion. “And which part is winning?”

He squeezed her tight. “The crazy part.”

“Hmm . . .” Beatrice smiled. “I’m not telling you to go away. I’m not saying we’re a couple again, but I’m willing to try and get to that point. We’re taking this slow—”

His mouth came down hard on hers as a hand went to the back of her head to hold it in place as he devoured her lips. His other hand cupped the flesh of her ass and hauled her closer against him. Heat bloomed between her thighs as her body arched against his hardness. Her arousal dampened her panties. She pulsated once, twice.

She dragged her lips away. “Gabe . . .” Her tone was censuring.

He chuckled softly, leaning his forehead on hers. “Right. Slow. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I ache for you, babe,” he whispered. His lips scorched over hers again, nibbling her bottom lip. A guttural sound of reluctant self-control vibrated at the back of his throat as he finally pulled away.

“Will you come home with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Security in the building is good. I’ll be fine.”

“I hate leaving you alone. I’ll sleep on your couch if I have to, but I have Rhino,” Gabe said. “I don’t think your building regulations allow pets, you think?”

“I’ve seen a poodle,” Beatrice deadpanned.

The handle on the entryway door rattled. Gabe tensed and hugged her protectively, pivoting his body so it faced the door.

Doug walked in and paused, his eyes squinting at the intimate embrace he was witnessing.

“I need to get myself a key,” Gabe muttered. “And we need to do something about people walking in on us.”

Steve Ryker staredat his buzzing burner phone in irritation. His boss was a pain in the ass. So his last act was a bit dramatic. So what? He was doing his job, and he was just having some fun.

“Ryker.”

“You are taking too many risks.” A cold chilling voice came over the phone.

“Just sending a message, boss.”

“To whom? Sullivan? The plan was to get rid of him. He is not the biggest issue; Porter is. The admiral is a man who’s a master of misdirection. He will always look beyond the obvious.”

Ryker felt his temper flaring. “I have it under control.”

There was silence for a while. “There’s too much at stake here, Ryker. You’ve already taken more exposure than I’m comfortable with when it’s not even related to our prime objective.”

“I got the results you want, haven’t I?” Ryker bit off.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Yes. It’s good to know that shipment did not reduce its viability and its dosage matched our expected results. Our buyers will be pleased. I’ll be in touch with more instructions.”

The call ended.

He threw his phone on the table and cursed his boss.

Ryker did not board the doomed plane that crashed into the Atlantic three years ago. He received an anonymous tip about the hit. He had lain low for a few days not knowing who to trust, but still intended to report back to Admiral Porter. Only, he found out he’d been quickly replaced by Sullivan. Ultimately, the admiral got his way and his favorite Navy SEAL got the assignment. Ryker felt bitter and betrayed. He would always play second best to the great Gabriel Sullivan. He later found out who saved his ass from getting on that flight. Philip Crowe had a lucrative proposition for him, so Ryker gave up his integrity to live the life of a mercenary.

So yeah, he didn’t need this dressing down. He did his job. He got his boss the required five test cases. Ryker pulled out the file on Luisa Delgado and the other four to whom he’d given the ST-Vyl virus. Inert in powder form, it was safe and easy to hide with the cocaine shipments. It needed to be activated by a separate compound before it could deliver its deadly potency—malaise and mild fever during the first forty-eight hours. After seventy-two hours, hemorrhagic fever begins. It was further genetically modified with a self-kill DNA so after 120 hours it became inert to prevent mutation. Controlled epidemic. A perfect bioweapon.

The poundingof the hammer echoed sharply in the orange glow of the afternoon. When Gabe purchased the house, it needed a few repairs. Although mostly cosmetic, like a fresh coat of paint, the flooring of the back patio had become warped and needed to be replaced. He glanced furtively to where Beatrice and Doug were having a quiet conversation further up in the stamp of backyard that came with the house. It was a relatively warm day for November, but still chilly enough to have a mug of hot chocolate. Rhino was lying on his belly at Beatrice’s feet. His dog looked as smitten as Gabe was.

Gabe stood back to observe his handiwork. One more floorboard to go. His father had been a construction worker and always had projects around the house. Gabe helped him when he wasn’t in school. It had always been the two of them ever since he could remember. His mother died when he was five. His dad never remarried. Sullivan men loved only once and forever, so it seemed. His eyes drifted to Beatrice. It had been a week since he had laid it all out for her, pretending to give her a choice to walk away when in fact he didn’t think he could ever let her go. He was thankful the outcome didn’t include him kidnapping her and holding her hostage until she agreed to stay with him. It had also been a torturously long week of cold showers and inappropriate hard-ons. He respected her wish to go slow, although he didn’t think he could last another day. He had tasted her again, though not under ideal circumstances. The memory of him eating her pussy and sucking her tits while his dick stretched and slid in and out of her, had played a starring role in his dreams. Gabe stared down the front of his jeans. Yes. That would do it.

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