“You sure about this?”
She nodded, unable to speak. Instead, she reached for him.
He caressed up her sides, his thumbs beneath her shirt, the calloused pads sliding over her soft skin. “Nodding isn’t good enough, baby. You need to tell me you’re okay with this. If not, no worries. We have plenty of time to get to know each other better.” His voice was a low, gruff rumble.
She needed to start living again, not just existing. He’d been right about that. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I want this moment with you.” Maybe a lot more moments with him. Okay. Definitely a lot more moments with him.
He leaned over her, one knee on the bed beside her, his mouth starting to wander along her cheekbone as if they had all the time in the world. “Just this moment?”
It was as if he could read her mind.
She slid her hands up all of that smooth muscle, feeling scars and power. A warrior’s body. “It’s too fast and it’s too crazy, but you make me believe it’s possible.” She ached more than she would’ve imagined. For him. Only him.
He kissed her, his mouth working hers like he owned it. Then he leaned back just enough to speak, his lips still brushing hers. “I’m not sure why, but it seems like people who’ve been through pain, who’ve survived it, know what they need when they see it. Know what they want. You’re in here.” He put her hand on his chest. “Whether we understand it or not, you’re right there, and I’m not letting you go.”
“Maybe I’m not letting you go,” she whispered, caught by the gleam of his green eyes through the darkness.
He licked along the shell of her ear, his hands finally pushing her top all the way off. “I ain’t gentle, baby. I’ll try for you, but it’s not me.”
She arched against him, her mind reeling. “If I wanted gentle, I wouldn’t be here with you. Give me all of you.”
His grin was a flash of white in the darkness before his hands settled on her breasts. “That I can do.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Silas Montgomery lived in a fancy gated community in Boise. His house was imposing, with thick columns, wide wooden doors, and a crap alarm system. The man had been divorced for nearly a decade, and based on the phone records Jesse had hacked, currently enjoyed the company of several widows in the area once in a while.
Tonight, he went to bed alone.
Trent had followed him all day, noting he kept to a normal routine. If his sons were hunting Hallie, he was cool and collected about it, not showing any stress to anybody who might be watching. Now Trent waited on the roof, observing the quiet street below and making sure no nosy neighbor was out walking a poodle or some other animal.
“The light just went off in the master bedroom and the shades are drawn,” Austin said through the earpiece.
Trent looked up to see Austin on a mansion rooftop across the street, sniper rifle in place. Mac was on another rooftop, one with a vantage point of the entire neighborhood.
“Go now,” Austin said.
Trent rappelled down to the back door as Ford did the same from the top of the garage. They landed silently and coiled up their ropes, then remained still for several minutes.
“The alarm system is disengaged,” Jesse said, sounding downhearted.
Mac snorted. “Sorry it wasn’t a challenge for you, brother.”
Jesse sighed loudly.
Ford shook his head and turned, ducking and expertly picking both locks on the door without leaving a trace. He pushed it open and they waited, just in case.
No sound.
Yep. The system hadn’t been a challenge for Jesse. They needed to find him a better job soon, or he was going to get cranky again. Jesse cranky was never a good thing.
Trent went first, taking in the kitchen area with its dirty dishes still on the counter. He’d already memorized the layout of the house from the blueprints Jesse had acquired, but he still stepped carefully around the table and moved silently through the darkened house. If he hadn’t felt the heat of Ford’s body behind him, he wouldn’t have known his brother was there.
They entered the bedroom, and Trent flicked on the light.
Silas Montgomery bolted upright in his bed, his gray hair mussed, his eyes already pissed. “Who the hell are you?”
Aggression. Nice. Trent moved forward while Ford did the same. “I’m Trent. I’m also the guy who decides if you live