Hard to Handle (26 page)

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Authors: Raven Scott

BOOK: Hard to Handle
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Her hips bucked when he buried his middle finger into her tight canal with shallow thrusts. His thumb twirled over her clit in the tiny little circle he knew she loved.
“Sam,” she panted. Her back arched from the impending climax. “Sam, please.”
“Wait for me, lass,” he asked, quickly pulling her hips toward him, covering her with his body and plunging into her depths. “I want to feel you coming around me.”
With every stroke, he seemed to pull her closer, tighter, until it felt like their bodies were indistinguishable. Their shouts of pleasure mingled in the air until Sam came hard, crying out her name, and Kaylee followed soon after.
They lay in bed awake for some time, listening to the rain under the sheets. He was on his back, and she was draped along his side with her head on his chest.
“That felt like how it was that first time,” she whispered at some point.
“Every time feels like that to me,” he replied.
“I mean, you've been . . . silent. Every time since,” she tried to explain.
“I didn't know what to say.”
“And you do now?”
He took a while to respond. “I'm working on it.”
“Okay. I can wait,” she promised with a yawn.
CHAPTER 26
“Okay, show time,” Sam mumbled quietly.
He and Kaylee stood up as Lyle Gordon, the mayor of the city of Baltimore, and his wife, Emma, got up from the table.
It was Saturday evening, and the Celtic charity dinner was going as planned so far. Kaylee and the team had arrived in Baltimore early. Sam had booked a hotel room for them a couple of blocks away. They'd dropped Kaylee there, and then he, Evan, and Renee had completed a reconnaissance trip in and around the venue for the dinner, mapping out anticipated traffic flow, exits, and potential hazards. By five-thirty, they were back at the hotel room getting dressed for the night.
Sam looked down at Kaylee, who was stunning in a full-length cream gown with a sexy plunging neckline. The soft color made her darker skin glow. Her hair was up in a simple bun, and a delicate sparkle of jewelry hung from her earlobes and draped her neck. He was pretty sure they were real diamonds. She smiled up at him, her eyes dark and smoky, and her lips painted a deep, sexy red.
Like Sam, all the Scotsmen there were in full kilt outfits, including clan tartans, black military-cut jackets, hose, and a pouch called a sporran.
“We should make the rounds and socialize a bit. You're quite a hit tonight, Viscount Andri,” Kaylee teased as she eyed his formal attire with appreciation, and not for the first time.
Sam tried not to react, but he seemed to have a little more swagger in his step tonight. It wasn't just his stroked ego that had him walking taller. His body was still humming from the night before. Just when he didn't think things could get hotter between them, that Kaylee could be any sexier, she dragged him into the rain, naked.
“Sam?”
He turned his head sharply to find Renee staring at him.
“What's wrong with you? You've been acting weird all week,” she said with her brows still folded.
Sam ignored her, looking around the room until he spotted Kaylee talking with Evan and another couple.
“She's the one, isn't she?”
“Who?” he asked, still focused on Kaylee, though she would be completely safe with Evan.
“Don't play dumb with me, old man. She's the one you've been waiting for.”
He looked back at his friend, now standing near six feet in her heels and looking even more attractive than usual. But Sam was focused only on the truth in her words.
“I wasn't waiting for anyone.”
“Yeah, you were. But maybe you just didn't realize it,” she retorted. “Now stop daydreaming and find the mayor for your little chat.”
Annoyed by her chastising, he quickly got back into character and walked the room. Kaylee had been correct; many of the other guests seemed overly interested in him, wanting to chat and find out everything they could about his Scottish peerage. Though neither he nor his parents had ever put much emphasis on it, Sam had been raised to respect the military history and highland traditions of Clan Mackenzie and Mackenzie of Seaforth. So he had plenty of irrelevant facts and authentic details to share. By halfway through the night, he was nauseated with himself. The smirks from Evan and Renee didn't help. The sooner he approached the mayor and got this mission done, the sooner he could drop the obnoxious posturing.
Lyle Gordon was an easy man to find in a crowd since his laugh was usually the loudest. His round shape and pink shiny skin suited the sound. Sam gradually made his way in that direction until the two men were adjacent to each other in separate conversations.
“Viscount Andri, right?” Gordon asked, and Sam turned to face him with a polite look on his face. “Thank you for joining us on this evening. It's a real honor and a surprising treat for many of the guests here tonight.”
“Mayor Gordon, please just call me Sam. I keep telling everyone that the viscount title is a silly courtesy. Certainly not necessary so far away from home. Did you enjoy your dinner?”
“I did—it was very good.”
“Good,” Sam echoed, subtly steering the shorter man toward the side entrance to the rented hall they were in. He knew it led to a small vestibule, perfect for a very private conversation. “I wonder if I could have a word with you for a moment about some very private matters?”
“Sure. I'd be happy to help in any way possible,” Gordon said.
Sam smiled down at him blandly and opened the exit door. Just as he ushered the mayor through, he did a quick scan of the room until his eyes quickly found Kaylee. She was talking to a tall, lean man whom he immediately recognized as Mark McMann. Surprised and a little alarmed, Sam looked around again and found that Evan was just a couple of people away from her and Renee was within line of sight. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he followed Gordon into the small hallway to make his proposal, leaving the two other agents to manage any risk from McMann's unexpected presence.
Kaylee watched Sam lead the mayor toward an exit door and felt a bubble of excitement in her stomach. This was it, almost at the end of the line, she thought to herself.
“Mikayla? I thought that was you.” She looked behind her to see Mark McMann approaching. “What are you doing here?”
They shook hands, and she put a big smile on her face.
“I'm here with a friend,” she replied.
“Yes, that's right. A lord or count or something?”
“Something like that. Are you a member of the society?”
“Yes, just for the last few years. It's great for network and business contacts.” She nodded and looked around, trying to locate either Renee or Evan. “Speaking of which, there's someone I'd like to introduce you to. A friend of mine who's always looking for great talent to join his team. I'm sure he'd like to discuss your experience.”
“Oh, okay,” Kaylee replied, swallowing through her nervousness. But their plan had been to continue socializing while Sam spoke to the mayor, so what harm could there be in meeting a referral from Mark? She walked with him across the hall until they reached a corner near the bathrooms.
“He was here a moment ago. Why don't you wait here and I'll try to find him?”
Kaylee nodded as he turned away, then sighed, hoping this detour wouldn't affect their plan.
In a blink of an eye, a big man was up behind her with a firm arm around her waist. He twisted her around and slapped his hand over her mouth before she even thought to scream, then shoved her through the door in front of them. His grip was so tight that she was quickly struggling to breathe.
“Quiet or I'll snap your neck right here,” the man growled in her ear.
She put her efforts into cooperating and saving her energy. Her survival instincts were starting to come alive, and she hoped a passive approach would make him complacent in securing her. Quickly, he forced her through a service hallway behind the bathrooms, then out a heavy door to the outside. Kaylee felt panic rising again, knowing that her chances of surviving this dropped dramatically if he managed to get her away from the building.
The man easily took each of her wrists until they were both held tightly behind her back with one of his hands, and he slowly removed his hand from her mouth.
“Make one sound and I'll pull your arms out of their sockets. Do you understand?”
She nodded, grateful to have a full lungful of air.
He took out his phone and made a very short call. “I have her. Behind the hall.”
“What do you want with me?” Kaylee asked the second he hung up, the device still in his hand.
“Shut up!” he snapped, pulling hard on her wrist, and she bit back a scream of pain.
“Don't pull my arm and I won't scream,” she muttered against her better judgment.
“Oh, you're a mouthy one. Let's see how much lip you have when I get you alone.”
Kaylee clenched her teeth to prevent any other comments. They waited there for another few minutes until she could feel him getting anxious. As subtly as possible, she looked around the area to find anything that would help her situation. There was nothing. It was a small side street that was dark and deserted on a Saturday night. She bit back a curse when a car came toward them from the left and stopped right in front with the driver side at the curb. The man used his hold behind her back to shove her toward the vehicle.
Kaylee panicked and started yelling. “No! Let go of me!”
He shoved his phone away and slapped a sweaty hand back over her mouth, blocking her nose. She struggled against his grip, then screamed against his palms in pain when he twisted her arms unnaturally.
“Next time, I'll break them.”
Still, she resisted, kicking back at his shins, trying to stomp down on his foot with her tall heels. Nothing worked. Tears of frustration were pooling in her eyes. They were at the car door, and he pulled on the handle to open it. Then there was a loud bang behind them, and her attacker swung her around with him as he turned with alarm. Sam was running toward them with his gun drawn and pointed at his target behind her.
“Let her go,” he demanded in a deadly calm voice.
Suddenly, a shot rang out from right next to Kaylee, and the bullet struck the wall beside them. The driver in the car had a gun. Sam ducked to take cover but couldn't fire back with her in the path. As scared and panicky as she felt, Kaylee could see it all so clearly, as though everything had slowed down. Her captor removed his hand from her mouth and reached into his jacket for his own weapon. Seizing the moment, Kaylee bent her head forward, then shoved it back fast and hard, praying she'd do some damage. The back of her head made contact against the bridge of his nose with a satisfying crack. He cried out in pain, letting go of her wrists.
Slightly dizzy from the painful impact, Kaylee twisted away from him and out of his reach. There were several more shots fired. She covered her head and ran, not stopping to look at what was happening behind her. Sam would want her to get out of reach so she wasn't a pawn in the situation, so she planned to keep going until there was a secure spot to hide.
In a long, tight dress and very high sandals, she made it only a block down the street when she heard a car approaching. More shots fired toward Sam.
“Kaylee! Run!” Sam yelled.
She tried, really hard, but there was nowhere to go and the car was too fast. It halted to a stop just ahead of her; then the driver jumped out of the car. She skidded to a stop, and tried to evade his grasp. But he easily grabbed her brutally by the upper arm and punched her in the side of the head with a right hook. She crumpled like a deflated balloon and was out by the time he threw her in the backseat.
* * *
“Kaylee!” Sam screamed again, even though he knew she couldn't hear him.
Another bullet whizzed by him as the driver took a shot before driving away. Sam was running at breakneck speed, his arms and legs pumping hard in unison trying to defy the laws of physics to reach the car before it turned down the next street and out of sight. Desperate, he slowed enough to shoot at one of the tires, trying to slow it down. His aim was true. The tire popped. The car skidded but kept going. He took another shot just as it made a wild right turn.
Fuck!
“I have eyes on the car, Sam,” Raymond said into the earpiece. “They're on South Paca Street, approaching Redwood, but they're about to hit some traffic.”
“I'm on it,” Evan confirmed. “I'm at the Redwood exit of the building so I'll head them off.”
“I'm right behind you,” added Sam, still running at full speed, unhindered by his kilt. “I got one of their rear tires so that will slow them down. Renee, stay on McMann. Don't let him out of your sight.”
“Got it,” she confirmed.
“Evan, she's knocked out and in the back seat. One assailant, the driver. I took out the second guy by the back door.”
“The Baltimore police are now on their way,” added Raymond.
Finally, Sam reached the corner to the next street and had eyes on the car moving slowly in a line of traffic. For another minute or so, there was only the sound of heavy breathing as Sam and Evan sprinted to converge on the vehicle. The sounds of police sirens were now audible.
“I'm a few cars back,” Evan advised, and Sam could now see him in front, gaining on the car. As though in unison, both agents veered to the left, moving off the sidewalk, through the traffic, until they were running along the median in the road. A line-up of drivers watched, open mouthed, as they passed with impressive speed and endurance. Many did a double take at Sam and his bare legs flashing beneath billowing pleats.
The driver holding Kaylee must have been spooked by either the approaching police cars or a glimpse of the men chasing him down. Sam watched in frustration as the vehicle squealed while doing a U-turn in the middle of the two-lane street, dangerously cutting off several cars going the other direction. Sam and Evan slowed their pace, measured the distance of the car now coming toward them, and took careful aim, very mindful of the crowded street. They had only seconds to make the right move, or there could be disastrous consequences. Sam noted every detail as the driver pointed his gun out the window and pulled the trigger.
Sam fired, very sure of his moving target, but, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evan go down. Sam's shot had blown out a second tire. The getaway car swerved wildly and the driver tried to maintain control with only two functioning tires.
“Evan!” yelled Sam into the communication device, even as he was still running toward the car. “Evan!”
“I'm okay,” came his response, finally. “It was a close one.”
Sam didn't have time to be relieved. He watched as the vehicle swerved again to the right and climbed the curb until it rammed into a fire hydrant and finally stopped. Sam didn't stop running until he had eyes on the driver. The guy was now pinned behind the airbags, and had a gash on his forehead. He seemed disoriented until Sam approached the window, at which point he swung open the passenger door, catching Sam in the torso and throwing him off balance. The assailant was a big guy, a couple of inches shorter but almost equal in mass. He slid out of the car, just in time for Sam to grab his shirt and plant a straight jab into his mouth, then another. The guy bent forward in pain, then rammed his shoulder into Sam's stomach, plowing him backward with sheer power.

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