Passionate Vengeance (13 page)

A part of his brain reminded him about the condom. He swore and patted the ground around them, looking for his pants and that bloody piece of foil. Abigail groaned in frustration until she must have realised what he sought.

“No, no,” she insisted, “we don’t need that, I swear.”

Lucas turned his attention fully back to her.

“I get tested regularly,” he muttered, but any further comments were lost as their lips locked hungrily together once again. He knew in his heart they were beyond petty deceptions. The details could be worked out later, right now only their mutual need mattered.

So many small things could be fixed in the coming hours, his reports, her discussing options or any needs she’d have with Kimber, or perhaps Dr Morrison. Right now Lucas knew without a doubt the craving he felt in his blood for this woman superseded everything else.

“Tell me again,” he purred, needing and wanting more than anything to hear her say the words.

Her green eyes burned hungrily into him. She lay back on the couch, her wild hair a mess around her face, framing her delicate features. She was easily the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Her lips were plump and red from the heat of their passion.

Like the most wicked and tempting of sirens she drew the moment out, before cupping his face in her hand and drawing him up so closely together their breaths mingled.

“I love you, Lucas Sloan,” she whispered seductively, the most erotic words anyone had ever spoken to him. “You’re my hero, my lover and my soul mate. I love you more than you could possibly ever know.”

Lucas kissed her, tracing his fingers over her soft skin, stroking over the places he was learning to be her most sensitive, enticing sweet spots. He let one hand trail down to between her legs, gathering the moisture already pooled amongst her lips as he traced his thumb over the erect nub of her clit. Over and over he circled around that hard peak, enjoying the way it made her breaths come faster, her hips canting up to meet his every stroke. He could feel her heart beating harder against the wall of her chest, a pale pink flush of arousal staining her perfect, pale skin.

And still they kissed each other with a passionate, drugged intensity. He suckled her tongue, drawing it into his mouth and toying with it as he played with her body. Abigail turned out to be full of surprises. She took him in her hand, the heat of his erection straining as she stroked him firmly, up and down, nearly making him lose his mind with lust.

“Now, now, now,” she pleaded with him, and he could no longer hold himself back.

He positioned his cock at the slick heat of her entrance.

“I love you, Abigail Turner,” he said, wanting her to feel the truth and intensity behind his every word. “I love you with everything I have within me. You’re my lover, my soul mate and the most perfect woman I have ever known. I want to be with you forever.”

“Yes,” she gasped, clawing at his hips to draw him inside her.

Giving her everything he could, he thrust deeply within her, all the way until his cock was fully sheathed and his balls bumped against the tender skin of her arse. Joined fully, as intimately as it was possible for a man and woman to be, he thrust into her, whispering promises of all the future would hold for them. She lifted her face and they kissed. Whether it was one long kiss or a series of hundreds he couldn’t tell and didn’t care.

As he rocked into her over and over he felt the climax between them grow and expand. Panting for breath, his back glistening with sweat, he plunged within her depths, thrusting harder with each stroke.

Abigail’s head fell back, her hair streaming around her and over his arms as he cradled her to him. Her back arched and her body rippled around him, contractions shuddering hard through her. She screamed her release. Her pussy clenched his shaft, triggering his own peak. He pulsed into her, shooting his seed deeply, filling her with all his essence.

They shuddered together in pleasure, the whole of his focus, his senses and his life rooted only to her. She fell back against the couch, drained, exhausted. Lucas collapsed next to her, both of them panting hard and struggling to catch their breath.

He knew they would soon have to move. To bathe, maybe to nap briefly before they returned to the office and began the slow process of cleaning up the mess. But none of that bothered him, not any of it at all.

They had each other, nothing else mattered.

Lucas stretched out on the couch, cuddling Abigail close to him as they lazily shared the heat of their bodies with each other. He kissed her swollen lips. She stared at him, her eyes shining with happiness and love. Lucas couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed seeing that light in her gaze. Already he could see the difference freedom and health returned to this woman. She was far stronger than she gave herself credit for. Lucas couldn’t wait to learn more about her.

As they held one another, he traced his fingers tenderly over her soft skin. He drew random patterns as a world of possibilities opened up before him. He knew without a doubt they would spend their lives together, and he looked forward to seeing all the different facets of Abigail. In the few short days they’d known each other he’d already seen so much of her, he couldn’t wait for them to surprise each other more over the coming months and years.

He kissed her again. It felt like a benediction, a blessing to start their new life, together for always. Lucas lifted his hand, stroked a tendril of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He cupped her jaw and he stared happily at her, completely at peace.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Lucas smiled, his world utterly complete.

“I love you too, darling,” he answered. Nothing in him questioned that it would be the first time of many he returned those words to her.

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

The Agency: Passionate Immunity

Elizabeth Lapthorne

Excerpt

Chapter One

Tristan Walters winced as he rotated his right shoulder. It was more from the memory of the pain he’d been in for almost two months, rather than the actual stiffness he felt now. The gunshot wound, still fresh in his mind, had healed as much as it ever would. Only the week before he had been confident the worst of his discomfort was behind him.

But now, with London expecting some bad weather, his shoulder ached once more.

“I think I can safely forecast rain in the next few hours,” he told the young, blond man sitting at the desk opposite him. Tristan ran his left hand over his dark brown hair, conscious even without a mirror of the silver beginning to salt itself through the strands.

It hadn’t been until two months ago he’d started to feel his age. He’d lost his Agency partner in the same fight he’d sustained the gunshot wound. Jasper Peterson and he had worked together for almost ten years. Neither of them had been virginal novices—they both had known full well the danger and risk inherent in their work.

That knowledge hadn’t stopped the pain of mourning a good friend and colleague. Preston Jones had transferred in while Tristan had still been doped up on a remarkable cocktail of painkillers and slowly recovering in the hospital. Preston had taken over from their old manager—who had been in collusion with the terrorist directly responsible for Jasper’s death.

When Tristan had returned to work less than a fortnight later, Preston had brought in Lucas Sloan and introduced him to Tristan as his new partner. Like many partnerships, they had begun rockily. Tristan hadn’t been in the mood to break in a newbie, especially not one who appeared to have only just passed his thirtieth birthday. The man had been still wet behind his ears and that was something Tristan wasn’t sure he’d wanted to be responsible for.

Feeling like the stereotypical cranky old man despite the fact he still had a few months before he hit forty, Tristan hadn’t exactly given the man a warm welcome.

Keeping his temper on a short fuse was the fact he’d been relegated to desk duty—mostly paperwork and organising the schedules and week’s roster. It was all busy stuff designed to keep up the appearance of him being one of the team. Tristan found himself frequently grinding his teeth in order to stop himself from snapping at his colleagues. Being chained to his desk felt like the end of the world, and despite knowing it was temporary, the mind-numbing nature of the files was soul-destroying.

All through this Lucas had been patient, something Tristan had appreciated but had not been able to bring himself to acknowledge. As he’d healed, Tristan had found himself chuckling now and then at a quip Lucas would make, or zinging the man with a witty rejoinder.

It had been almost a fortnight after their introduction when Tristan had first invited Lucas down to the local for a pint after their day had ended. The two men had started talking superficially, but the wind-down sessions after a shift had become a semi-regular thing. Slowly, the ice had begun to melt between them.

Now, two months later, while Tristan didn’t think they would qualify as best mates, there was a level of understanding and trust between them. Time and experience would solidify their partnership.

“Who needs the weatherman when my partner is a walking meteorology indicator?” Lucas joked. He tilted his head, the long strands of his blond fringe fell into his eyes and Tristan snorted.

“Bet you twenty pounds over the next six months my shoulder and I predict the rain more accurately than the Met Office do, too.”

Lucas appeared to be about to reply when Preston stuck his head out of the door to his office. “Walters! Sloan! In here, now.”

The two men exchanged equally blank looks.

“Do you know what this is about?” Lucas asked. They both pushed away from their desks and stood.

“Not a clue,” Tristan replied. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I have my final medical later this afternoon to clear me for active duty. We weren’t supposed to be assigned anything new until tomorrow.”

“Then it must be something big,” Lucas postulated as they walked side by side towards Preston’s office.

“Or boring,” Tristan added pessimistically.

Preston Jones had shown himself to be a tough but fair leader. His door always stood open unless he was in the middle of a private meeting. Over six foot of muscle, still evidently in shape from his years in the Army and with a no-nonsense manner, Preston had gone over well with most of the agents. His black hair was still buzzed short, but there was no mistaking the sharp look in his dark eyes. Unlike his field days though, Preston now generally wore dark suits and looked the part of a manager.

Tristan and Lucas both deeply respected the man.

Preston stood behind his desk with a manila folder in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other. He glanced up as Lucas and Tristan entered the office. Preston nodded to the two chairs in front of his desk and returned his attention to the reports he seemed to be in the middle of sorting.

“Close the door and have a seat, gentlemen,” Preston said without looking at either of them again.

Tristan held out a hand and slowly pushed the door closed. Simultaneously both he and Lucas exchanged another silent glance. Tristan cocked an eyebrow. Lucas shrugged.

The partners sat in unison, a clear show of mutual support and solidarity that reminded Tristan how far they’d come in recent months.

“Neither of you are in the shit,” Preston assured them. He met both of their gazes in turn for a brief moment before piling the papers and folder on the top of his desk.

“I’ve checked with Morrison down in the medical wing. He assures me that as long as you take it easy you’ll be right for active duty as of this evening,” Preston continued as he took his seat. “Sorting out the mess left by my predecessor is taking longer than anyone had guessed. Most of her cases have been cleared as untainted, but there’s one in particular that has captured the auditor’s attention.”

The room filled with an uneasy tension. Emma Henley had been a well-liked, respected team leader within the Agency. Discovering her knowingly and actively working against their objectives to keep their country safe had been a blow to many. Making the matter even more personal, if possible, it had been her actions that had led to Jasper Peterson being murdered. The loss and Henley’s betrayal were still raw with Tristan.

“What do you need?” Tristan asked, moving forward in his chair, eager for anything he could do to help reverse the damage one woman had created.

Lucas leaned closer to Preston’s desk. Without words Tristan could see his new partner fully understood the importance of doing something to avenge Jasper.

Preston’s mouth twisted into a faint smile.

“Morrison said you’d need to take it easy, so this won’t be an all-guns-blazing mission. Indeed, for now at least it will hopefully remain largely a data-mining and paperwork-based task,” he chided.

“Henley appears to have worked for over a year on something she’s labelled as Project Immunity,” Preston said. “From what I can gather there’s a medical facility that the Agency has used numerous times as a cover. As far as that goes it’s nothing unusual. What grabbed the auditor’s notice, however, was after a cursory inspection of their paperwork they discovered the facility is doing research Henley appeared to be sponsoring through back channels. I don’t understand exactly how they’ve connected it, but the financial auditors assure me there’s a twisted, convoluted path between discretionary funds connected with us and this facility.”

“If the medical practice lets us use them for cover from time to time then isn’t it to be expected there’d be a link between us and payment for them?” Lucas asked, clearly puzzled.

Preston shook his head.

“If the funds are for discreet cover stories then the sources should correlate with those jobs. This is something separate,” he pointed out. “More importantly these all seem to tie back in with a single project. Also, Immunity doesn’t link back in anywhere else the auditors can find. It almost appears to be an off-the-books project Henley headed up. Which was exactly the kind of shady dealings they wanted to uncover. Project Immunity is a big question mark right now and Finance has done what they can. They’re not able to satisfactorily put upper management’s fears to rest so it’s been handballed over to us.”