Illegal Fantasies (Anthology ~ Behind Closed Doors) (18 page)

The way Elizabeth cuddled into his body made his heart skip in his chest. Yes, he’d used the slutty cheerleader, but now here was his life, woman, and heart
.

“That was amazing, Lyzee,” he offered. “I feel like I should be thanking you.
If I wasn’t exhausted, I might build a monument in your honor.”

She snorted. “It was pretty damn spectacular,” she offered, resting her hand on his bare chest.

In the light from the lantern, Callen could see the sparkle of her two wedding rings. Ethan’s and his shone bright, making him think of their love. Even in darkness, there was a beacon to keep them anchored.

“I
’ll never forget this fantasy for as long as I live,” he promised.

“I have a fantasy now,” she whispered, knowing he’d do whatever she wanted. Then men who loved her always would.

“What is it?”

“My sexy fantasy begins with you wandering that naked Native ass of yours out there to the cooler to get me a beer.”

He started laughing. “You know what? After that little display you just put on, I at least owe you that,” he said, grinning.

She let him go as he headed out of the tent. Elizabeth smiled wickedly. There was something about her sexy men and their little fantasy romps.

Elizabeth was a lucky girl.

   
C
hapter
S
even:

             Surprise in the Field

~~ Tessa & Paris~~

Paris Archer loved what he did for a living. There was nothing like using your brain to profile for the FBI. No other job would ever
be able to fulfill his wildest dreams. Not only did he get to live on the edge, find killers, and balance the scales of justice, but he got to work with the woman he loved.

Yeah, it was a pretty damn good gig.

Although like everything else in life, it also had its downfalls.

At this very moment, Tessa was
hundreds of miles away in Vegas, as he finished up his requalification at Quantico. Every so many years, they had to make sure that their gun skills were up to par, along with some mental evaluations.

Paris couldn’t
help but find that funny. There was actually a shrink, analyzing the people who lived in the minds of madmen.

Yeah, he could only imagine the things that came out in those sessions.
God knew what bounced around in his brain at regular intervals. It was either insanity laden details of a case or sexy fantasies with his Tessa.

Well, it didn't matter. For now,
he had passed everything and could head home tomorrow. Then, he would be reunited with his partner and life would continue as it had before he left.

Downstairs in the bar, he watched the people around him.
It wasn’t intentional, but more like second nature. Paris wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, and quietly observing was part of his life. In fact, it was how he protected himself and his partner in the field. One never knew when there would be a subtle clue which could save their lives.

As he took in the multiple couples sitting very close to each other, his heart felt heavy. Without his
Tessa, he tended to blend in with the scenery, vanishing from sight. She was the one who made him come alive. Now, he was really wishing she was there.

Sitting alone in a bar to eat dinner was pretty depressing
for him, even though a few women actually hit on him. When one actually tried to join him at the table, he had to decline. Paris couldn’t even compare this stranger to his partner, Tessa. She was his dream woman and just did it for him. From her witchy eyes to her luscious lips, he was captivated. When that same woman tried to buy him a drink, pushing herself on him, Paris knew it was time to escape.

Chugging his beer, he paid for his dinner. It was probably best to take it back to his room
, where he could stay below the radar. It wasn’t like he’d never had a woman’s attention, because he had. Many times as they sat in a bar, he’d get hit on. He believed it was the FBI badge and job title which did it. Tessa would always tell him it was because he was sexy.

Was he?

Paris didn't see it.

Once more, his Tessa would try and explain that his brilliant blue eyes, hidden behind the doctor glasses
, were a turn on. He’d let her continue, all the while thinking about how he was damn lucky that he caught a babe. Without her, he’d aimlessly wander through life a broken soul. The day she kissed him, everything changed.

He changed.

Escaping from the bar, Paris patted his messenger bag to check the contents. Inside sat his tablet and the lifeline back to the woman who owned his heart. Once in his room, he’d try to have dinner with her via video conference call. Maybe they could spend a few hours together talking.

Glancing down at his watch,
Paris quickly calculated the time.

Damn!

That wasn’t likely to happen. Since they were on opposite sides of the country, Tessa would
still be working. The time difference had ruined his plans.

Well,
it appeared that he’d eat his dinner in silence, and then call her later. It was better than sitting in the meat market bar, trying to avoid sleazy come-ons. It didn't boost his ego, instead it made him nervous. There was no way he’d ever be able to touch another woman again, not after he gave his heart away to Tess.

For the rest of the female population, he
was already taken.

Heading up in the elevator,
Paris sent a text asking Tessa what she was doing. Her reply touched his heart.

            ‘Missing the man I love.
’

Yeah, he felt the same too. Sleeping alone was a drag, and Paris couldn’t wait to be home and in their bed. There was something about the way Tessa curled against him, never very far from his side. She was protective, sweet, and everything he desired in his life.

Paris laughed in the elevator, getting the other passenger’s attention. The look he received was amusing, and he didn't blame the woman. After all, random laughing made him look crazy. Yet, he couldn’t help it. Tessa’s sweet nature wasn’t the thing he craved most. He may be an educated man, but when it came down to it, the real reason was evident.

The sex was spectacular.

When she’d touch him, Paris would lose all ability to think. Before long, he’d be a raving lunatic, begging
her to use his body.

Thankfully, she never refused.

On the way up to his floor, he began typing out another message, but this time, one which was a little more sexually explicit. He only hoped the words would make her blush at work, reminding her of what they had when they came together.

‘I want to spend all night buried in your body, Tess. I can feel you taking all of me. I love when you scream my name.’

Before Tessa, he wouldn’t have ever sent a text like that. He was shy, quiet, and a big nerd. Growing up smart had its pros and cons. He never had to study, but he never quite fit in with other people.

That is
, until Tessa fell into his life.

At the door to his room, he paused, juggling his dinner, the room key, and beeping phone.

‘If I were there, I’d give you a night to remember.’

For some reason, Paris didn't doubt that. Tessa had a way about her. She lived life to the fullest,
sharing her warmth with him every day. Without her near, everything seemed gloomier and colors weren’t as bright.

Damn it!

He couldn’t wait until he got home. The time away was making him edgy.

Opening his door, he flicked the switch.
When nothing happened, Paris found that odd. When he left earlier, he could have sworn he had shut the lights off that way. If anything, he was a creature of habit.

Maybe the bulb had burned out
, or there was a short in the circuit. Immediately, his very rational geek mind began coming up with rationales to explain the situation.

Closing the door to the room,
Paris headed toward the desk. It was so dark that he could barely see anything in front of him. Trying to navigate to the lamp, he suddenly felt off. There was something not right in the room.

Paris wasn’t as instinctual as
Tessa, but he’d picked up some redeemable skills along the way by watching her work. In their partnership, he was the profiler, and she was the one who used her gut. Now, something in him was screaming foul.

This was all wrong.

When he walked into the desk chair, he knew it wasn’t in the right location. Thinking back, he visualized the room in his mind and the layout was way off.

             
Then, he heard it.

The
re was breathing.

Oh shit
! He wasn’t alone!

Reaching for his gun,
Paris was too late. The seconds that he’d used to weigh his options had taken too long. Already, there was the telltale sound of metal against leather holster. Normally, it would be comforting, since he heard it every day, but now it was terrifying. In some horrible nightmare, the familiar weight of his sidearm was off his hip. The nose of his weapon was now pointed into his back, or at least he thought it was his gun.

“Who are you?” he asked, trying to stay calm. He couldn’t believe he was getting jumped in his own hotel room.

There wasn’t any answer.

Then, something was pulled down over his head.

Paris still didn't move. He could feel the tip of something pressed into his back, and he wasn’t going to take the chance. Now, he had something to live for, and that meant surviving to get home to her.

“You can have my wallet and my phone. Just stay calm,” he
said, trying to keep whoever was behind him from doing anything rash.

The last thing he wanted was to get shot.

Paris felt the slide of his handcuffs off his back loop and began to analyze the situation. He could try and fight, but what if the person behind him was too strong. Suddenly, a cuff snapped around his wrist, pulling it behind his back.

That’s when
Paris felt it.

He was falling face first onto the bed.

Before he could react to the lack of pressure on his spine, his other wrist was effectively cuffed behind him too.

Now, Paris Archer
was trapped. He couldn’t see, and he couldn’t move his arms to fight. Someone had his weapon, and his phone was somewhere on the floor.

Shit!
This was beyond worst case scenario.

If he lived, Tessa was going to bust his ass for the rest of his life.
Then, he began praying he wouldn’t die alone in a hotel room. Paris had so many more years of life left in him.

Listening, he used
what senses were available to him. He could hear the sound of the desk chair being moved and the rustle of papers.

“Listen, I’m only a profiler for the FBI. You have to have me confused with someone else
.”

Then, there was a click.

Paris noticed there was a
faint glow from beneath the hood. Apparently, whoever had jumped him knew their way around his room. They had watched him, knowing he was coming.

The hunter had now become the prey.

“What do you want?” he asked.

There was a nondescript shushing sound
to get him to be quiet. Paris began planning out his next move. Gone was the fear of Tessa busting his ass. In that moment, he was more scared that he’d never see her again. He began struggling to get his arms free. Once more, there was a pressure on his spine.

Paris froze.

It felt like a finger, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d never been held at gunpoint before. Who knew what the nose of a gun felt like when you were scared shitless?

Suddenly, he was jerked up from his position and lead away from the bed.