Wild Borders (20 page)

* * * * *

A couple of days later, Lani drove back to the Turner Ranch. She felt exhausted after her interview with Kev Grand, although he certainly wasn’t the reason she was feeling so poorly. The rancher was sexy in a hard and dangerous kind of way. No doubt it would take a hell of a woman to tame that man.

Chickens scattered in front of the SUV as Lani pulled up to the ranch, and thoughts of Rick washed over her. How did she manage to fall so completely for his charm? To fall so completely…

No. She wasn’t even going there. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she noticed Chuck’s truck was gone, and that Rick wasn’t home yet.

Late afternoon shadows stretched across the driveway, and when Lani checked the dashboard clock, she saw it was after three. Rick could be home soon, or might come in as late as seven at night, depending on how his day went. She parked, grabbed her belongings, and headed for the front door.

Roxie gave Lani her normal greeting, slobbering all over Lani’s pants. She’d come to love the Rottweiler as much as every person in the family.

The house was locked, and she opened the door with the key the Turners had loaned her. A note on the fridge said that Sadie, Chuck and Trevor were at the Torres home for a surprise birthday party for Bobby and would be gone through dinner, and that Lani was invited.

After tossing her purse and laptop onto her bed, Lani changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and wandered into the kitchen, barefoot. The house was eerily quiet, save for the tick of the kitchen clock. She missed Trevor’s chatter, Chuck’s dry wit and Sadie’s musical laughter.

And Rick. His presence that filled the room. His touch. His teasing grin.

Lani couldn’t hold back a smile, thinking about the time they’d spent together last night in his plane. She now had at least one positive thing to think about when it came to small planes.

A sound like a car door slamming came from outside, interrupting her thoughts.

Rick
. Lani hurried to the bathroom, ran a brush through her hair, and touched up her lipstick. She smelled Rick’s apple shampoo from the shower, the scent reminding her of him, the feel of his hair under her fingers. She ached to touch him.

The front door opened and shut, the sound reverberating through the house. She couldn’t help but smile as she walked back to the living room.

He was kicking off his boots and when he saw her he gave her a weary smile. “Damn but it’s good to see you when I get home.”

Lani’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ll bet. You just want some good hard sex.”

Rick’s lips quirked into a grin. “I’d have to say that’s an added bonus.”

She laughed and went to him but he held her off with an upraised hand. “Gotta take my shower, sweetheart. Been one of those days.”

“How about I lather you up real good, cowboy?”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “I could live with that.”

After he threw his clothes into the washing machine and he grabbed a condom, they slipped into the bathroom. Lani stripped out of her clothes while Rick climbed in under the spray. She followed him and took the bar of soap he was holding.

She began lathering his whole body, starting with his muscled chest and shoulders and working her way on down. The soap had a clean outdoorsy scent that she identified with Rick. Water streamed over her as she soaped his thighs and ignored his erection that was so big it damn near poked out her eye.

“Turn around,” she ordered him after she soaped him all the way down to his feet. He looked a little disappointed that she’d ignored his package, but he faced the spray so that his back was to her.

Still on her knees, Lani was now staring at his tight butt cheeks. She sighed.
Yeah, an ass you could just bite.

A bit of mischievousness rose up inside her and she leaned forward so that her lips were against his wet skin. And then she bit.

“Hey.” Rick turned his upper torso and lightly pulled on her hair so that she was looking up at him. He had an eyebrow cocked and a spark in his eyes. “Who said you could bite my ass?”

She grinned. “I did. Now turn around and let me finish the job.”

“Ass-biting wench,” Rick grumbled in a teasing tone.

“Now brace your hands on the wall while I take care of you, mister.”

He obliged and she proceeded to soap the back of his body, up his legs to that fine ass that she was tempted to bite again. She continued on up to the broad expanse of his back and his shoulders. Soap and water streamed down his back and shoulders and water pelted her face and hair.

“Face me,” she demanded, doing her best to sound forceful.

Rick turned with his hands up and a stern look, like he was being arrested.

Lani laughed and started soaping the fine curls around his cock and he lowered his hands, closed his eyes and tipped his head back in the spray. She sighed at the sight of her wonderful man, his power, his masculine beauty.

Her man.

Lani shook away the thought and washed his cock then let the water rinse away the soap. She set the bar aside in the soap dish. “I want you to stroke yourself now. I want to see how you pleasure yourself.”

“You mean jack-off?” he said, opening his eyes and raising his eyebrows.

She narrowed her gaze. “Do it, cowboy.”

An amused expression crossed his face and he gripped his cock in his big hand. Lani watched in fascination as he worked his staff from his balls to the head, his thumb rubbing over the tiny hole at the top before sliding back down his staff. He studied her while he did it, and she wondered where her sudden confidence had come from, in ordering him to do things she’d fantasized about. It occurred to her that she felt so comfortable with him now, like she knew him better than anyone she’d every known.

Could he feel the same way?

Again she dismissed that line of thinking and instead lowered her head to lick the top of his cock. Rick released his erection and moved his hands into her wet hair as she slid her mouth over him, taking him deep.

She loved the way he felt in her mouth, the way he felt in her hand as she licked and sucked his cock. She loved the way he gripped his hands in her hair and guided her up and down.

Just as she thought he was about to come, he commanded her, “Stop.” When she looked up at him, he said, “It’s my turn now.”

Lani let his wet cock slide out of her mouth. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He took her by her shoulders and raised her, then grabbed the condom he’d left open on the edge of the tub and rolled it over his cock.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he said as he brought her flush against him. Her mons ached and excitement skittered throughout her when Rick gripped her ass and said, “Hold on.”

She squealed in surprise as he lifted her up and impaled her on his cock. Lani clenched her legs around his hips and hung on tight as he raised her up and down, thrusting in and out of her. Water from the shower poured over her head and face, and it was so like her fantasy that it made her all the more excited.

The power in his arms, his muscles flexing and the concentration in his expression undid her. She came so fast it made her head spin. Rick came moments later and hugged her tight to him as his cock continued to throb within her.

Chapter Seventeen

The following morning, when Rick reached the station, Miguel waylaid him in the hallway. “McAllister.”

Rick ran a hand over his stubbled cheeks. “What’s up, Mikey?”

“I’ve got something you’ll want to hear,” Miguel said as he motioned to his office and Rick followed his supervisor.

After Miguel shut his office door behind them, he motioned to a chair and Rick seated himself. Miguel eased back in his own chair and said, “Thought you might be interested in hearing about the surveillance we set up on Stevens.”

“Yeah?” Rick leaned forward.

“I put a couple of undercover agents on Stevens’s tail last night.” Miguel spun the frog paperweight on his desk. “He had an interesting visitor drop by his ranch, around midnight.”

“Who?”

“Gordo, aka José Hernandez.”

Satisfaction gripped Rick and he hit his thigh with his fist. “I knew it.”

Miguel held up his hand. “Of course that’s not enough, but it’s a start. We’ve got a helluva lot of work to do.”

“Damn straight,” Rick said, feeling a thread of satisfaction. “We’ll nail that SOB.”

He got to his feet and took his leave from Miguel.
Gordo
. Yes, that bastard was the key to everything. Thoughts of Lani knocked at the back of his mind, but he shoved them aside as Daryl Jones, the admin assistant, waylaid him in the reception area.

“Got a call for you, Rick.”

Rick took the phone. “McAllister here.”

“This is Juarez.” The informant’s voice shook. “Meet me at Mario’s at one.”

“
Sí
,
amigo
,” Rick replied and hung up.

Lani would be at the station to interview Miguel at ten. Rick was tempted to hang around, but he had work to do.

He spent the morning tracking down surveillance info on Gordo and Stevens, and worked over a couple of other leads.

One o’clock sharp Rick arrived at Mario’s Cantina. As soon as he slipped into his customary booth, Juarez appeared and slid onto the seat across from him. The informant smelled of sweat, like he hadn’t taken a bath in days. Something in the man’s eyes made Rick’s gut tighten.

Glancing around the bar, Juarez licked his lips. “Your life is in danger,
amigo
.”

Rick’s muscles tensed and he leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Juarez’s eyes shifted from Rick to the bar and back. “
El Torero
wants you dead. He suspects you are closing in on him. He will do anything—take anything from you he can. Kill you. Kill your whole family. Back off,
amigo
. Hear me. Back off.”

A chill crept over Rick’s skin. Before he could ask Juarez for more information, the informant slid out of the booth and vanished out the front door.

* * * * *

When it was time for her to leave for her interview, Lani dressed in navy slacks, low heels and a pink silk blouse, her press badge attached to her belt loop. She smiled and waved goodbye to Sadie and Trevor who were working in the garden, and headed for Douglas.

Due to the increase in the number of Border Patrol Agents, the agency had recently built an enormous facility on the outskirts of the Douglas city limits. Rick had explained that the old station, near the county fairgrounds, was originally designed for a staff of only fifty agents.

The new station was sleek, modern and efficient in appearance and smelled of paint and new carpet. A man with red hair, freckles, and a million-dollar grin, manned the front desk. His nameplate read
Daryl Jones, Administrative Assistant
, and he had an ID badge attached to his belt. He reminded Lani of a kid she’d had a crush on in the third grade, and she smiled.

“Hello, Mr. Jones.” Lani’s voice was smooth and professional as she switched into journalist mode. “My name is Lane Stanton, and I’m a reporter with
City by the Bay
Magazine. I have an appointment with Miguel Martinez.”

“Hold on a sec.” Daryl dialed the phone. A moment later he said, “He’ll be right up.”

As Lani waited for Miguel Martinez, her gaze wandered around the busy station. A picture of the President of the United States graced one wall, next to the American flag. Dirt and scuffs marred the polished linoleum floor, attesting to the volume of human traffic in the building.

Men and women agents walked in and out of the reception area, some clothed in spruce green ‘rough duty’ uniforms, and others wearing jumpsuits of the same color. She noticed agents in shirts and jeans, not unlike Rick. At the thought of him, a nervous tingle spread in her midsection, and she wondered if he was somewhere near.

A man in full uniform approached Lani. He was her height, clean-shaven and smelled faintly of aftershave. He had dark brown hair, green eyes and a deep cleft in his chin. “I’m Miguel Martinez. You must be Ms. Stanton.”

“Agent Martinez.” She extended her hand and smiled. He had a strong grip, and his pleasant, comfortable manner set her at ease.

“Let’s sit in my office,” he said as he turned to walk down the hall. Lani followed him through the station, noticing the constant flow of traffic, the hum of conversation.

He closed the door and motioned to a chair, then sat down, his manner relaxed and confident. As she took her seat, she pulled out her laptop and turned it on. “My questions are all on here. May I record you as well?”

He agreed, and as always when she interviewed, the outside world slipped away. “What is your title and responsibilities?” she asked.

Miguel leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands. “I’m a Special Operations Supervisor, abbreviated SOS. I’m in charge of several specialty teams, such as bike, horse and ATV patrol, training, Intelligence, and assorted other duties.”

“I understand you have over five hundred agents permanently assigned along this stretch of the U.S.—Mexico border.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Usually about one hundred agents work each shift, with three shifts in a twenty-four hour period. The agents are scheduled to work eight hours, but are expected to work ten to ensure that we have constant coverage. And if they’re tracking UDAs they’re expected to stay on duty until they find the UDAs or lose the trail.”

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed notes and scrolled through her questions. “How are these numbers of agents distributed?”

“Most are stationed along the border. Others are in intelligence.”

“What about agents patrolling from the air?” She glanced up from her laptop.

Miguel pushed a frog paperweight along the edge of his desk. “Those agents are based out of Tucson, and stay in the west desert during the heat of the summer where the danger to the UDAs is the greatest from heat and lack of water.”

“Can you tell me a little about the agents who patrol by ATVs?”

“ATVs can get into places that vehicles can’t, and can be a real deterrent just by the sound they make. The UDAs know they can’t outrun them.”

“I see.” She paused, the thought of Rick flashing through her mind at her next question. “What are the responsibilities of those who work in Intelligence?”

“Intelligence agents gather information to help uniformed officers do their jobs.” Miguel ran a hand over the stubble on his cheeks. “A separate intelligence unit operates undercover. These agents infiltrate groups, attempt to get in homes and find out any smuggling information they can.”

After he had her sign a waiver form, Miguel took Lani in one of the Border Patrol SUVs and drove several miles along the border. She was amazed at the sheer numbers of vehicles positioned along its length.

Once they completed the drive, the agent gave her a tour of the station, including the areas where the UDAs were detained and processed. When he took her to the control room, he had the agents shut down visuals on cameras where sensors were located. He explained it was standard procedure as no unauthorized individuals were allowed to see the locations of sensors on the remote desert locations.

When Lani concluded the interview with Martinez, he shook her hand and she thanked him then headed out to the parking lot.

A dull pain throbbed behind Lani’s eyes when she slid into Sadie’s SUV. Her stomach churned and she felt like she would throw up. Lani leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. She’d been so nauseated since…

Her eyes flew open and a cold chill swept over her.
No. It couldn’t be.

Instead of heading back to the ranch, Lani drove into Douglas, straight to a grocery store.