Page 33 of Deadly Threat
From the corner of his eye, he saw Mia bouncing on her toes, her eagerness overtaking common sense. “We’re going to the raid, right?”
Turning, he put on his eldest brother, I’m-in-charge face. “On one condition.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Anything.” No hesitation there. “Whatever you want.”
His dirty mind instantly leaped to something with her in far fewer clothes, but he quashed it. The make-out session upstairs had his libido chomping at the bit, and he had to remind himself this wasn’t the time.
He strode past her to retrieve a bottled water from the fridge. It wasn’t a cold shower, but it would have to do to calm his raging hard-on.
Speaking of shower, he’d never gotten one. He’d managed to wash in her bathroom sink, but nothing beyond that. Joe’s clothes were probably too tight in the chest, but he’d borrow a pair of loose sport pants and the biggest t-shirt he could find. That would have to do.
Ladybug barked and she and Jack-Jack looked expectantly at him, as well.
“Malachi, I’m serious,” Mia chided. “We have to be there.”
He took a long swig, considering his plan. “We could both end up in a lot of trouble with the FBI if we crash the party.”
Her eyes burned with determination. “I don’t really care. I mean, I get it if you don’t want to burn bridges, but she’s my sister. I will do anything to get her back and be there when we do.”
He understood. He didn’t care about pissing off Dupé, yet he was in charge of Bondsmen Brothers. Caleb, Joe, Josie and the other apprehension agents counted on him to keep things running smoothly. He was their leader, their CEO, fulfilling a role he felt born to. It’s why he’d risen through the ranks so easily during his military days—he liked being in charge, and he had the strategic mind and innate sense to bring out the best in others.
Mia placed a hand on his stomach. “What’s the condition?”
Her eyes had darkened and now resembled emeralds. It was foolish to give into her, but hell if he could say no. “You follow my lead, do what I say, and don’t go renegade on me.”
“That’s three,” she countered with a grin.
He lifted his brows and stared her down. “I’m serious. We’ll remain on the sidelines, hidden. We’re only there to observe, not engage. We’ll stay clear of the action, understood? If it so happens that Amberisthere, I’ll do my best to make sure you get to see and speak to her once it’s safe. If you so much as breathe when I’ve told you not to, I’ll pull the plug and remove you from the scene, physically, if necessary. Are we clear?”
Her palm, burning through his shirt, dipped to his belt and she gave it a tug. “You’re kinda bossy, you know that?”
It would be so easy to let her distract him, too easy. He grabbed her by the wrist, gently but firmly, and drew her hand away. It was hell to do it, since he wanted her so bad. “Swear it, Mia.”
The playfulness left her voice. “Fine. I promise to follow your lead and all the other stuff. Do you know where this place is? Sam didn’t give us the address.”
“The coordinates were on the photos. I’ll be able to find it after I shower.”
She bit her bottom lip, as if considering what that entailed. “I’ll feed Ladybug her meal and medicine, and find a disguise.” The grin returned. “Is it okay to give Jack-Jack something? I hate to leave him out.”
It was after lunch and Malachi needed a snack himself. The only thing that would truly satisfy him right now, though, wasn’t food. “Kibble is in the pantry.”
As she went to take care of the dogs, he grabbed his drink and snagged the first set of reasonable clothes he could find in Joe’s closet. Inside the master bath, he turned on the dual heads and stripped.
The stall was made of fancy stones and tiles, a half wall of smooth rocks keeping the stream from flooding the floor and providing scant privacy. It even had two corner seats made from teak. Joe had some funky organic body wash that smelled like mangoes mixed with clove and musk. Malachi made a face at the scent, but scrubbed from head to toe, letting the warm water work the kinks from his neck and shoulders. Kissing Mia replayed in his mind, and Mr. Woody stood at attention, begging for release.
He braced his hands on the stone shower stall, bowing and letting the spray run down his back. He was a trained endurance athlete. He could go for miles, hours, on nothing but willpower, controlling his body and mind. But for the life of him, he couldn’t control his dick when she was near.
He sighed, regarded his erection, willing it to deflate. Fat chance, that.
Movement from the corner of his eye made him jump, instantly in soldier-mode and ready for an attack.
The threat stole his breath away. Mia, as naked as her fantasy self in his mental movie, stood watching him. The stone wall was the only thing between them and he had to blink a couple times as he took her all in. Was he losing it? Dreaming? Had his imagination taken over?
She gave him that barely-there smile—unsure, shy. A scar ran from one shoulder down her arm. Another left a thin pale line across her ribs. More crisscrossed her thighs. This was no mirage, no fantasy.
Anger rose inside him, and he steamed hotter than the water. Her eyes roamed over his upper body, pausing on the scar and corresponding tattoo on his left pec. He’d been shot in Afghanistan during the mission that had changed Caleb forever. Malachi had added the tat to honor that assignment and at the same time, change the scar from an ugly reminder of that day into a striking phoenix, rising from the ashes.
Studying it, something changed in her eyes. He’d witnessed it before in other survivors—camaraderie. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” She spoke over the sound of the water, her voice husky, hesitant. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours, and well, if you haven’t guessed, my life is really screwed up. I’m screwed up. If you want me to leave, I will. I totally get it. I’m being presumptuous, but—”
