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“You said keep my hands where they were.” She grinned harder at his deepening frown.

Emery didn't reply. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her arm up so high she stood on tiptoe. He wrestled her other arm up and held them in one hand while he jerked the tank top up and off.

“Turn around. Hands on the glass.”

Someone had a bossy side.

Tori didn't ask questions and she didn't mind his orders. She faced the wall, all of South Beach laid out in front of her, and planted her hands on the glass. She could feel Emery's heat at her back. She thrust her hips backward and met his pelvis. The hard line of his erection pressed against her ass. So it wasn't just her who had a sexual interest.

He reached around her and grabbed the band of her sports bra and pulled it up under her arms, freeing her breasts. She sucked in a breath and fought the urge to cover herself. They were so far up no one could see her, but it didn't stop her knee-jerk reaction. He palmed her breasts, covering them from view. She could feel his breath on the left side of her neck. His chest pressed to her back, their bodies fitting together. Would he do her like this? It wasn't a bad thought, it was hot even, but—she wanted to see him.

His lips coasted down her neck to the ticklish spot at her shoulder. She could see his reflection in the glass, knew he was a hairbreadth from touching her there. She shuddered, all the humor leeching out of her. She wanted him so badly. He massaged her breasts, pushing them up, rubbing his palms across the stiffened nipples.

She groaned and let her head drop back against his shoulder.

“Emery.” She said his name as a plea, surrendering herself to him. They were equals. Another time, she'd do what she wanted, but for now, she knew without words that he needed to be in control and call the shots.

He captured her nipples between his fingers, applying gentle pressure, but even that was too much. She moaned and turned her head toward him, but he was already kissing her shoulders and the line of her spine. He released her breasts and slid his hands down her stomach while his lips reached the skin above her jeans.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the way his hands and lips felt on her. There was no doubt he'd turned every bit of that powerful brain on her. She didn't stand a chance.

The loudest sound in the room besides her heartbeat was that of the snap coming undone on her cheap jeans and the zipper lowering. She held her breath. He slid his hands down her hips and into her panties. He pushed the fabric, taking both jeans and the cotton underwear down her legs. He kissed the dimples above her ass as he shoved her clothes to the floor. She didn't dare move, not even to step out of the clothing for fear she'd break the spell of the moment.

He ran his palms up and down the outside of her legs and cupped her ass. Her breasts might be on the small side, but she'd always had a nice ass. Or at least she thought so. She'd never had someone get close and personal with it like this.

Emery stood, keeping his hands on her at all times. He pressed his body against her, bracing her. She wished he'd say something, but he struck her as a silent lover. He splayed one hand over her stomach. The other cupped her mound.

She gasped, unprepared for the bold touch.

He didn't stop there. He slid his fingers through her folds. She cringed a little. She'd been wet before, so now she had to be dripping. Emery made a little, almost growling sound behind her and thrust a finger into her. Her jaw dropped at the intrusion. He pushed his knee between her legs, forcing her to widen her stance.

“Hm.” The rumble of his voice vibrated through her body.

He pumped her slowly, slicking her arousal over her clit and rubbing the erect nub with his finger.

“Oh God, Emery.” If she could dig her nails into glass, she would have.

She opened her eyes and found it hard to focus on anything except the vague reflection of his face over her shoulder. His hand slid up and grasped her breast. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, but more than anything she wanted him inside of her. More than just his fingers. Still, her body shuddered as he touched her just right.

No matter what she wanted, her body did what he commanded. Her muscles tightened low in her belly and almost screamed in protest, but what he was doing felt too good. He curled his fingers as he stroked her, hitting all her nerve endings and ratcheting up her desire.

Her body felt as though it burst apart. She squealed, but Emery held her, stroking her through the orgasm and into bliss. She let her face press against the glass, not entirely spent, but her world was definitely rocked.

Emery slid his hand out of her, but she still felt his nearness. She heard the rustle of his clothes, the rasp of a zipper and the thud of his shoes hitting the floor.

Round two?

Yes, please.

She turned, taking in the sight of a completely nude Emery. She'd glimpsed him shirtless—what? Two days ago? Yesterday he'd barely removed any clothing. Today, there was nothing between them except air. He stood at the foot of the bed, condom in one hand, his erect cock in the other.

“I didn't tell you to turn around.” He held her gaze, rolling the latex on.

“My hands are where they're supposed to be.” She flattened her hands against the glass.

He crossed the distance between them in two strides and covered her hands with his. His erection pressed against her belly.

“I want to see you.” She said it to his lips because she couldn't quite look at him when she admitted it. Sex could be great with anyone; what made this special was because it was Emery with her.

“I'm right here.” He kissed her, forcing her up against the window with enough force their cells might merge.

He grasped her ass and before she could react, hoisted her up, pinning her to the glass with his body. She gasped and held on to his shoulders. He rocked his hips against hers, his gaze on her face. He hooked one arm then the other under her knees and her heart leapt to her throat.

He pressed his cock at her entrance, his gaze never wavering from her face. It was the same as yesterday. He penetrated not just her body, but her heart. She gasped and shifted her hips, seeking a better angle to accommodate him. Gravity worked in her favor. He sank all the way in. Her body stretched around him. There was a touch of soreness from yesterday, but the sheer pleasure of it was more than worth it.

Emery rested his forehead against hers, but he didn't kiss her, and he didn't close his eyes. Somehow, despite the lack of touch, she felt closer, more in tune with him.

He moved slowly at first. In and out. She held on to his shoulders, unable to look away. He grasped her ass with both hands and moved her, as if she weighed nothing at all. He thrust, harder, stroking deeper into her body. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders. Again, he thrust deep and hard, rocking her body. Liquid gathered at the corners of her eyes and her heart pulsed in her chest, stretching and growing. Their breath mingled, and never once did he glance away from her.

It felt as though her soul and heart twined together, coiling tight inside of her until she thought she'd burst. Her breathing hitched and she dug a hand into Emery's hair, yanking him closer. She kissed him the moment her body broke and the orgasm washed through her, leaving her breathless and boneless. But Emery wasn't through. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her even as he invaded the rest of her with his cock. She held on, denying him nothing until the moment he shoved deep and his breathing shuddered. She clutched him to her chest, hugging her legs around him. His body twitched within hers.

They stayed like that for several moments, utterly spent. She smoothed his hair down and kissed him, scared to speak for fear she'd break this tender connection tying them together.

Emery hoisted her higher, clutching her to him, and carried her to the bed. She mourned the loss of his cock, but he didn't leave her to clean up. Not yet. He cradled her to his chest, holding her just as tight as he had in the midst of orgasm. She blinked away the moisture clinging to her lashes. She was not crying. She didn't cry. But damn, he made her feel all the way to her toes.

* * *

Emery stared at the ceiling, his mind completely silent. He'd lived inside himself for so long that it was strange to not listen to himself. Tori shifted a bit, but her head nestled right back under his chin, arms around him. They hadn't spoken since the mind-blowing orgasm, which was probably why his head was so quiet. He didn't know what to think or feel about her. It was so new, he was half afraid that if he concentrated on it, she'd vanish. Not literally, but that everything that happened between them would fade.

Except they'd agreed to see where this thing went. But what did that look like? Was there a set of rules for this kind of situation? It wasn't like the magazines at the grocery checkout covered how to woo your woman and prepare for an urban siege attack.

“What are you thinking about? It's like I can hear the wheels turning up there.” Tori stroked his back.

He was keenly aware of her leg over his knee. It didn't hurt in the least. For a moment, he struggled with the idea of answering her, but the truth was, he could deny her nothing.

“I was thinking about us.”

“I like the sound of that.” She smiled and shifted to look him in the face.

Emery stroked her loose hair, reveling in the feel of it against his palm.

“I want to do this right, but I don't know what that is,” he said.

“That's okay. Neither do I. How much time until we meet up with CJ?”

“Couple hours.”

Tori hid her yawn behind her hand.

“Let's get some sleep. I'll wake you.” He kissed her brow again. She wasn't delicate, but she was the most precious thing in his life.

Emery hadn't given much thought to his life outside the FBI. Before, he'd dated with the assumption that he'd eventually marry someone, maybe have kids, but it hadn't been a priority. Now, things were different. The way they lived wasn't conducive to dating. Look at Madison: She went everywhere with a shadow or some kind of protection. It wasn't the right environment to date in. But that was before Tori.

What kind of a future did they have? Could they have one?

He'd never felt strongly about marrying and love, but that was changing. It was a slow shift he was aware of the longer Tori was in his arms.

A life with her in it. Could he dare to hope for such a thing?

Chapter Fourteen

Tori found comfort in silence. No one could be that quiet if they were sneaking up on her. Not even Emery. The temperature-controlled storage units seemed more like tombs where people brought their possessions to die than anything else. It was a great place for a meet, in theory. Public. With the facility's security cameras rolling so there could be no funny business. But not public enough they would be bothered. Especially at this odd hour of the afternoon. Most people would be headed home, not checking their storage. If the hit team wanted to come after them now, they were risking more than what her life was worth. The body count would be far too high. She appreciated CJ's forethought in arranging the location, but she didn't like how it would leave them blind during the meet.

“They're here.” Emery's voice was low, for her ears alone.

After arriving early, they'd set up at one side of the building, where the shadows were thickest, to wait and watch for their team. Emery had tried to make her stay outside of the building until he gave her the all-clear sign, but she wanted to see CJ face-to-face. Hear him tell her himself just how much he'd fucked up.

So here they were, lurking in shadows on the second floor of the building, watching cars come and go.

Neither moved from their position.

The unit they'd do the meet in was closer to the back of the building. The plan was to allow CJ and Kathy to arrive there first so they took the position farther into the unit, allowing Emery and Tori the means to escape if necessary.

“Can I ask you a question?” The question had been on the tip of her tongue for hours, since she'd lain in bed stroking his back.

“Hm?” He turned his head just a bit, but never took his gaze off the parking lot below.

“How did you get the scars?” If he got those because of his parents or his brother's crap, she might have to hunt them down herself.

“Like I said, they took their payment from my hide.” There was no emotion in his voice. No pain, no betrayal, nothing.

She understood complicated family relations. Her father kidnapped her and her sister, and her mother died so some asswipe could make a point. She'd never heard the words
I love you
until she was a preteen and Roni said it to her on their birthday. They hadn't understood, until they nearly lost each other thanks to CPS, but their father had snatched them up and moved in the blink of an eye. What Emery lived through, that was something else entirely. She wanted to hug him, to let him know that she cared. She wouldn't do that to her worst enemy, and she had a few.

The air conditioner kicked in and suddenly she could smell—pizza?

“Come on. They're here.” Emery turned to face her. The thought lines bracketed his mouth and the way he looked at her—there was feeling there. She couldn't name it, and didn't think he could either, but there really was something between them. She didn't need her imaginary Emery voice to tell her that.

She pivoted, holding her breath. Emery's hand flattened against the small of her back, just above the gun tucked in her waistband. She'd never relied on a man for much after her father's death. They usually wanted something, or to hold their support over her head. But not Emery. He was just there. Next to her. Not in front of her or pushing her toward something; he was beside her. Walking into it with her.

They turned down another identical white-and-orange hall. The scent of pizza grease intensified. If she wasn't mistaken, she could also smell double pepperoni with extra cheese.

Her stomach growled.

Emery held his hand up in front of her and she hung back, allowing him to step into the unit first, hand at his hip on the obvious bulge of a gun. They didn't want to come off too aggressive to Kathy and CJ, but they had been facing more than their fair share of danger lately.

“Was wondering where you were.” CJ's voice was the same low, gravelly tone she'd come to love. It pulled at her heart. She liked him, and it had broken part of her to think he'd betrayed her. “Tori with you?”

“Yeah,” Emery replied.

Her cue.

She stepped into the doorway. The only furniture in the unit was a metal desk and a couple folding chairs. According to Emery, he'd used it a time or two to do undercover deals or broker information they needed. Now, Kathy sat at one end of the desk, a slice of pizza held delicately in her fingers.

Kathy smiled when she saw her, and CJ's whole body seemed to relax. He exhaled and stepped toward her. He didn't shake her hand. As they met, he pulled her in for a hug. Her breath caught in her throat and the hurt that had buried itself in her chest at the thought of his betrayal eased, healing itself. She didn't know if it was the truth, or if he was trying to reel them back in. But right now, it still made her feel better. She hadn't made an epic mistake staying in Florida.

“How you been?” CJ asked.

“Good.” She stepped back, glancing from Kathy to Emery. They'd discussed what they would and would not say. Despite the show of good faith, they couldn't trust the couple enough to tell them everything. Like where they were staying.

Kathy slid between her husband and Tori, pulling her in for a quick squeeze. Kathy might be the mother hen, but she wasn't one for superfluous signs of affection. Her hug caught Tori by surprise more than CJ's. Tori blinked at Emery over Kathy's shoulder. She could count on both hands the number of times Kathy had initiated contact, and still have fingers left over.

“We were so worried when we found your car.” Kathy stepped back, hands clasped in front of her.

“Hungry?” CJ gestured to the pizza.

“No, thanks,” Tori said automatically. Hugging people she couldn't entirely trust was bad enough. Either Kathy or CJ could have grabbed her weapon if they wanted to. That was quite enough skirting danger for her tonight.

“Gabriel?” Emery leaned up against the wall, thumbs hooked in his jeans.

“He's good. Going stir-crazy, but I think the nurses like him.” Kathy sat back in the chair and picked up her piece of pizza.

Tori wanted that slice so bad her mouth watered. “What did the Eleventh want?” she asked.

CJ blew out a breath.

Kathy answered first, gesturing to a file she slid out from under the pizza box. “The driver was a new Eleventh recruit. We think it was his entrance test.”

“Looks like the Eleventh is actively seeking out new drivers. No connection to the mob hit though. I hacked Greenworks and everything, but nothing.” CJ shook his head.

Because the two were not connected. Only in Tori's fucked-up life would this craptastic series of events happen.

“I don't like it. Nothing adds up,” CJ said.

“There's got to be a reason.” There was a thread of frustration in Kathy's voice.

“A reason for a federal investigation to come to a screeching halt the minute its objective is cleared? Huh. Can't think of a single reason.” Tori rolled her eyes, willfully diverting the conversation from the hit team. Yes, there was something seriously fucked up going on, but it was nice to know even their FBI partners were as in the dark as they were.

“Why would the Feds not take Evers into custody?” Emery asked.

Silence.

“Because that wasn't what they wanted,” Tori answered.

“Then what do they want?” Emery stared at her.

Neither Kathy nor CJ scoffed at her statement. That alone made her wonder what they knew.

“That's what we've been trying to find out,” Kathy said quietly.

“Whatever is really going on, it's not just the crew who is being kept in the dark. It's us as well.” CJ gestured to Kathy and himself.

Kathy wiped her fingers on a napkin, lines of worry creasing her brow.

CJ's gaze went back and forth between Tori and Emery. “Our best guess is that there's someone else the Feds want worse than Evers. We never knew about the import-export business. We thought he had a supplier. What if there's more we don't know? What if they're in bed with the Russians?”

“It's highly unlikely the two are working together,” Emery said. “Evers, though? We could never get a tap on Evers's phone. We all know he only does business verbally, no paper trail.”

“Damn,” CJ muttered.

Tori put her back against the wall. These were the kinds of chats Aiden and Julian were part of. Not her. She did what she was told and didn't worry about making the hard calls. Now, Aiden and Julian weren't here, and it was her life that was in the crosshairs.

“What do we do?” she asked.

“Try to figure out who it is they want.” CJ shrugged.

It was easy, and impossible. How were they supposed to do that?

* * *

Emery wasn't surprised by CJ's statement. It was the same thing Emery had suspected. Figuring out the
who
was the hard part. They had a functioning database of all the people Evers was connected to, and a majority of them could be picked up on small crimes. Evers liked disposable people, which meant no one was ever around long enough to challenge him. It was all very controlled and intentional. Whoever the force behind him was, they went to great lengths to be invisible.

There was a subtle shift in the air, as if someone had opened a door. Emery might not have noticed it had he been engaged in conversation. He took a step toward the door and tilted his head, listening for some source of the pressure change.

“What is it?” Tori asked.

CJ and Kathy stopped talking, which only made the change more pronounced.

“Not sure. Stay here.” He drew the gun at his waist and approached the door. The exterior facing rooms might have given him the ability to see what was coming in the reflection of the glass, but the interior rooms like the one they were in left him blind.

He paused at the door, but there was no sound, no other change that put him on edge.

It could be his imagination, the stress, or any number of reasons that triggered his paranoia, but he wasn't willing to chance Tori's life on anything.

There was always the possibility of being followed or found out during a meet. It was why meeting—even with allies—was dangerous in the field. You might be able to trust your friends, but what about the people following them? The Russians were good. They'd found Emery and Tori's safe house in record time, something that frustrated Emery to no end.

He glanced down either side of the hall, but nothing unexpected broke up the pristine white walls. They were alone. And yet, it didn't feel that way.

“Anything?” Tori asked.

“No. Going to look around. We leave in less than five.”

They'd met. They'd talked. They'd found out what they needed to know. There was no use sitting around shooting the bull for the rest of the night when he could have Tori safely locked away in a South Beach luxury tower. They couldn't find all the answers tonight, but they were one step closer, and being able to trust their crew was a major move in the right direction.

Emery headed away from the main stairwell and the bank of elevators, toward the front of the building. He glanced behind him every couple of strides. Tori—or one of the others—had closed the door to their unit and he couldn't hear a sound coming from them.

It could just be his nerves, but they weren't in a position to brush off anything.

He kept his gaze on the growing reflection in the glass windows—but nothing showed itself. As he reached the front of the building, he glanced right and left. It might have been the way the light hit the windows, but he thought there might have been a flash of movement to his left.

He stared at the point for a moment, but the reflection was distorted.

They needed to leave.

There was no concrete reason, except he just knew. It was an ache in his knee that didn't actually hurt, only reminded him that he'd had a bad feeling before that he hadn't listened to.

Emery backed up, gun pointed at the ground, until he reached the door.

“We're going. Now,” he said, keeping his voice low.

There was no argument from inside.

Tori stepped into the hall first. Emery knew without having to ask that he and CJ would keep the women between them. Sure, Kathy and Tori were more than capable of taking care of themselves, and he would rather have them at his back than half a dozen men. Still, no one was hurting Tori while Emery was still breathing. He held out his arm, pushing her back against the wall. Kathy followed them out, gun in hand.

A shot boomed, the sound ricocheting through the concrete-and-metal structure. Kathy cried out, stepping back, even as Emery shoved Tori into the unit. CJ went to the ground, shielding his wife with his body, and squeezed off a return shot, but the shooter must have taken cover around the corner.

“Get her inside,” Emery snapped.

To CJ's credit, he didn't pause. They grabbed Kathy, one on either side, and lifted her. Blood dripped down from her stomach. She drew short, uneven breaths.

“Stay on the door,” CJ ordered.

Tori took up position on one side of the door, gun in hand. Her face was pale, her lips tightly compressed and eyes wide. This was her nightmare. The thing she and Roni had skipped all over the states trying to avoid.

They pushed the pizza off onto the floor and laid Kathy on the metal surface of the desk. Her eyes were large and her teeth clenched so tight he could hear her molars grinding.

“Come out!” a man yelled, his voice accented slightly.

Emery left CJ to tend to his wife and went to stand opposite Tori. She stared at him, as if she could not bring herself to look at the desk. A trail of blood split the room in half. Kathy's breathing and helpless groans were the loudest sounds.