Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 (6 page)

“I—” Fuck him again, for having a point. But I didn’t manage to respond, even if I had known what to say, because he wasn’t done.
 

“As for checking the tags? Sure, I’ll cop to that.” He managed to move even closer to me, and his gaze was…hypnotic. Fierce and fiery and glittering with a wealth of emotions. He seemed…angry. With me? For me? It was hard to tell. “You embarrassed, Lola?” He waited until it was clear he expected a response. “You embarrassed that I know what size bra you wear?”
 

“Yes, Thresh, I’m embarrassed. I don’t even know you, and you’re folding my fucking underwear?”
 

A brief smirk broke his serious expression for a heartbeat. “You swear as much as I do, you know that? And I’m a soldier.”
 

“That bothers you?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. It’s sexy.” He touched my chin with one finger. “But that’s not what I meant. Yeah, sure, be embarrassed that a dude you just met is folding your underwear. I get that. But I don’t think that’s why you’re pissed.”
 

“Then enlighten me, if you know so much.” I regretted the challenge as soon as it left my mouth, because somehow I had no doubt he would proceed to do exactly that, and do it far too accurately.
 

“You’re pissed I looked at the tags. And not even because it was a rude, nosy, asshole thing to do, but because you’re embarrassed about the numbers on the tags.”

“Fuck you.” This was said in a small voice, though.

“Funny part is, you don’t really seem insecure.” The genuine confusion in his voice brought my eyes up to his. “That’s what I can’t figure out.”
 

“You figure that out, let me know. Then at least one of us will be in the know.” I took the folded skirt from his hands and placed it in the basket.
 

His hand latched onto my wrist, and he brought me back around. “You’re fucking sexy as hell, Lola.” He touched my chin again, and I forced myself to look up at him, to meet his gaze. “You’re seriously beautiful. In every way there is, from head to toe.”
 

“Thanks.” I pulled away from him, tossed the rest of the unfolded clothes back into the basket in a wadded-up ball, then turned away from him to unlock my door. “Still not going out with you.” I shoved open my door and went in, kicking my laundry basket in ahead of me.
 

“Why not? Tell me that much, at least.” He had the balls, of course, to follow me into my condo.
 

I whirled on him, shoved him backward, using all my strength to do so. “Because I don’t
want
to, you fucking ogre!”
 

To my credit, and my very great surprise, he actually stumbled backward a couple of steps; he seemed legitimately shocked himself.
 

He barely made it past the threshold before I tried to slam the door on him. The door ended up hitting his foot and his injured arm, eliciting a narrowing of his eyes and a tightening of his jaw.
 

“You’re a shitty liar, Doc,” he growled.
 

I sighed. “Fine. You want me to spell it out for you? I don’t want to go out with you for a lot of reasons. I don’t want to go out with you because you never
asked
. You
told
me, and assumed I’d say yes. You show up at my house unexpected—and how the
hell
do you know where I live, anyway? That’s fucking creepy. Third—or is it fourth? I’ve lost count.” I waved a hand in dismissal. “I don’t want to go out with you because you scare me. You make me nervous. You’re dangerous, in a
lot
of ways, and I live a safe and simple life. That’s how I want it, and that’s how I like it, and you’d mess that all up.”

He nodded, his face pensive and thoughtful. “That’s a lot of reasons. I guess I can respect that thinking.” He sidled closer to me, in that predatory way he had, standing close enough that his heat radiated against me and I could smell cologne, spicy and silky and dizzyingly delicious. “But you’re still a shitty liar.”

“I’m not—” I had to back up, away from him, away from the intoxicating scent, away from his massive, overwhelming presence. “I’m not lying.”

He had the gall to smirk. “Are too. You
want
to go out with me, but you don’t want to want to. Just like you want
me
, but you don’t want that desire. It makes you uncomfortable. It scares you. You said it, Doc:
I
scare you.”

“Thresh—”

He backed away from me. “But you said you don’t want to, and I’ve never pushed myself on a woman. She says no thanks, I back off. Just…do yourself a favor, Lola.”
 

I swallowed hard. “What’s that?”

“Try to be honest with
yourself
about why you don’t want to go out with me, if you can’t be honest with me.”
 

I shook my head, irritated at his insight and his persistence. “You’re impossible.” I was the one to move closer to him, this time, letting the welter of emotions I was feeling flare up into my voice and my expression. “Yes, I’m attracted to you. You’re an attractive man, Thresh. I don’t deny the effect you have on me. But you’re a risk I’m just not willing to take. And
that
is the honest truth.”
 

Respect filled his features. “All right then.” He backed up a step, then two, and then put his hand on my doorknob. “You’re somethin’ else, Lola Reed.”
 

He twisted the knob and opened the door. He seemed to be…hesitating, or going slow, maybe hoping I’d change my mind. And, honestly, part of me wanted to. Part of me was screaming at me, telling me a man like Thresh didn’t come along very often, and a man genuinely interested in me didn’t come along very frequently either. I’d be a fool to let him go.
 

But my fear, my years of conditioning myself against men, against trust, against relationships of any kind…that part was winning out. I just couldn’t make myself let go. Wanting him, wanting…everything that would come along with a relationship with him, however brief it may be—that wasn’t strong enough to overcome my deep-seated fear.
 

But I still felt the disappointment as he turned away from me. I’d hoped maybe he’d push a little, try a little harder to get past my walls. Maybe it’s stupid storybook nonsense, but I’d kind of hoped he’d try to force me past my fear, you know?
 

But that was stupid.

I’d told him no, and he was listening. That’s the gentlemanly, respectful, thoughtful thing to do.

I was about to turn around. He was outside, closing the door behind himself. With more than a little regret bubbling inside me, I watched that sliver of light from outside narrow as he closed the door, vanishing from my life forever.
 

Then something happened in the blink of an eye. I honestly couldn’t comprehend how a seven-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound mountain of muscle could move that fast, so swiftly I didn’t even register his movement until I was in his embrace, his arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me clear off the ground, spinning me around, and pinning me back against the wall. One second I was three feet from the doorway, the next I was flat against the wall beside the door, his knee between my thighs, his huge paw gently cupping my cheek, thumb brushing over my lips. I stopped breathing. My heart stopped beating. My stomach fell away.

“Just one kiss, Doc.” His voice was a whisper, his breath on my lips.
 

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

He was everything, overwhelming all my senses, engulfing every aspect of my universe. I felt him, a mammoth wall in front of me, flesh and bone and muscle and heat and spices and so, so
male
, so powerful, making me feel tiny, fragile, delicate…

Safe.

I felt safe, here, his impossibly broad shoulders erasing the whole world, his hand on my cheek, his lips millimeters from mine.
 

Damn it.

My face tilted up, my lips parted: silent permission.

He kissed me then, and I utterly melted.

He kissed me with skill and passion; he kissed me as if I was the only thing that existed, as if to kiss me was…

A moment of desperation.
 

His tongue slid across my lips, tasting me, and then I was lost to it, because I tasted him, his breath. He tasted clean, like mint toothpaste and mouthwash and spearmint gum. He smelled like heaven and felt like raw rugged male perfection. I kissed him back, damn me, I did. I couldn’t help it.

You don’t get kissed like Thresh kissed me and not kiss him back. It’s just impossible.
 

How long did that kiss last? I have no clue. A minute? An hour? Long enough to make me dizzy, to make me delirious, to send a pang of deep, throbbing desire pounding through me, a sensation so foreign to me I didn’t know what it was at first, other than a
need
, a hunger I couldn’t sate.

Only I
did
know how to sate it:
 

Keep kissing Thresh—

But he pulled away, stepping backward away from me. Hand outstretched, as if losing that final contact with my skin was physically painful.
 

Fuck, I wanted more.

And so did he. I could see it in his eyes. The bulge behind his zipper told the story clearly enough, if nothing else did.

He was true to his word, though. One kiss. He was gone before I could regain my bearings, ducking to fit under the lintel, gone before I could recalibrate.
 

He was gone, and I felt empty.

My head spun, my lips trembled, and I felt myself doubting everything I thought I knew.
 

Dammit, Thresh.

5: GOING DARK

If I didn’t leave her then, I wouldn’t leave her at all. That one kiss, man…it straight fucked me up. She just tasted so damn sweet, and she was so damn responsive, once she gave over and started kissing me back, man…I was done in. I’ve never been much of a kisser, I usually just used kissing as a tool for getting a girl worked up and turned on so we could get to the fun stuff, but that kiss with Lola…

It was its own entity. It was beautiful by itself, made me dizzy, made me want to run back up those three flights of stairs and break down that flimsy-ass door of hers and kiss her until neither of us could breathe, until our clothes came off and—

Fuckfuck
fuck
—I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get my raging libido under control.

When I was sure I wasn’t going to either bust the zipper of my jeans or charge back up to Lola’s condo and ravage her senseless, I left her building, moving on foot back toward my hotel.

The thing about being a soldier your whole life is it hones your senses. Even distracted, my mind and body are attuned to my surroundings. Which means when I felt that nebulous sense of unease in the pit of my stomach, I shook all thoughts of Lola out of my head and started paying attention. Something was up. Someone was either watching me or following me, or something was about to happen.
 

I kept moving, didn’t slow my pace or give off any signal that I suspected anything. Took two or three blocks before I spotted him: he was good, keeping twenty or so feet behind me, nondescript, talking on a cell phone, or pretending to. Average height, average build, black hair, jeans and a T-shirt. But the way he walked, the way he held himself…a hunter can always recognize his peers. He was discreet, staying at a distance, stopping here and there so he didn’t get too close or seem to be too obviously following me. But what he had no way of knowing is that Anselm taught all of us who work for Harris how to spot a tail, and how to lose them.
 

I hauled out my cell phone and dialed Anselm See, our resident spook. We weren’t exactly sure where Anselm had got his skills, except in the employ of some European government or another. He was a ghost, in every way. I don’t think he existed in any official capacity, and oh yeah…he could put a bullet dead center in a target at a thousand yards with laughable ease.
 

He answered on the first ring. “
Ja
?
Was geht ab, Bruder?
”

“I’ve picked up a tail.”
 

“If there is one you see, there is certainly at least one more you do not see. Keep walking, and do nothing yet.”
 

“I shouldn’t take him out?”
 

“
Nein
. That would tip them off that you have made them, as my American counterparts like to say.”
 

“I was just visiting a…
friend
. You think it’s possible they’ve got someone on her?”

“That is your doctor friend, Lola Reed?”

“Yeah. Lear tell you about her?”
 

“Naturally. But, back to your question, it seems likely they would have her covered.”

“Fuck. I can’t let her get pulled into whatever this is.”
 

I worked for a company called Alpha One Security, and our last operation had gone distinctly sideways. We’d been hired to rescue a little girl who’d been kidnapped for ransom. We’d done so, but in the process had managed to seriously piss off an eastern European crime boss who went by the code name “Cain”. He was a ruthless, merciless, well-connected kingpin with a veritable army of thugs, most of whom were of the unskilled variety. A few, however, seemed to be significantly well-trained. Word was Cain was after every last of one of us who worked for Harris at A1S, and was willing to use any tactics necessary to get to us. Which meant Lola, having met me—however briefly—was probably in danger.
   

“I think that ship has set sail.” Anselm was quiet for a moment. “I will contact Harris.”
 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Chewie.”
 

“What? I do not understand your meaning.”
 

“
Star Wars
? Whatever. I don’t like this. I just left Lola’s condo. I’m circling back. I have to make sure they don’t bring her into this.”
 

“If you go back, you will lead them to her, and there is still a chance she is not on their radar.”