Saving Zola (Sleeper SEALs Book 4) Page 18

  “I’m sorry you got dragged into this, honey. I never would’ve been able to forgive myself if anything had happened to you.”

  She kept her gaze on the front of the house while she spoke to her father. “I don’t understand how they found me. We changed cars. We stayed low. How the hell did they manage to track me down and run us off the highway?”

  “GPS locator on your key fob.” He sighed. “It was probably in your purse.”

  “What?” She glanced at her father.

  He nodded, cringing. “They took my phone, scrolled through the aps, and realized my phone had the ability to track you.”

  She groaned. “Right. Shit.” The fob had been in her purse forever. It had never occurred to her for a moment that she could be responsible for giving away their location.

  A commotion behind her had her spinning around to face the house.

  Mike stepped outside as several people cheered. And then he scanned the area. The moment he spotted her, he raced across the lawn toward the ambulance.

  Seconds later, she was in his arms, her hands hanging limp at her sides as she tried not to touch anything. They were still tingling as if they’d been asleep.

  He held her tight and then leaned back to look her over. “Jesus, babe, you look like shit.”

  She smiled. “So do you.”

  “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

  “Mike, the last time I saw you I wasn’t sure you were even alive. So I know you have injuries I can’t even see.”

  “Maybe a few.” He smiled back.

  Her father cleared his throat.

  They both turned to face him. She would be angry for a long time, but for now she needed to be glad they were all alive.

  He looked at Mike. “Thank you. There aren’t enough words to express my gratitude. You saved my daughter’s life, and I owe you mine too.” He swallowed. “And I also need to apologize again for my actions when you were younger. I was wrong. I hope someday you can both forgive me.”

  Zola didn’t have words, but she did lean forward and kiss his cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Dad.”

  He gave a wan smile and stepped back. “Get in the ambulance. You both look like you were in an accident.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  One week later…

  “You sure you want to do this?” Mike asked Zola, eyeing her cautiously. She’d spent two nights in the hospital and then five nights at her father’s house under strict orders to rest.

  Mike had also spent two nights in the hospital under the careful eye of the doctors. Both of them had suffered a concussion in the car crash. Unbelievably, neither of them had any broken bones. Cuts and scrapes. A few stitches to her forehead. A few butterflies to his hairline.

  But they were in one piece and recuperating.

  After their release, Mike had needed to take care of several things to wrap up the case with the CIA. Lambert had asked him to take another case, half teasingly, and Mike had told him where he could shove that idea, also half teasingly. After five nights sleeping without Zola in his bed, he had made his way to her father’s house and spent the next two nights lying next to her on top of the covers.

  He wasn’t about to stress his tenuous relationship with her father any further than it already was by shoving their relationship in his face, but he also wasn’t going to sleep in another room where he couldn’t reach out every hour or so and make sure she was still real.

  Mike had been surprised either Zola or her father had wanted to go back to the house at all. But they’d insisted. Finally, he and Zola had returned to Norfolk. Mike, for one, was glad he didn’t have to spend another day in the noisy environment where workers were doing repairs from the shootout in the den. The hammering alone had given him a constant headache.

  Now they were back in Norfolk, and he was unlocking the front door of Tex’s house. He had it rented for another two weeks.

  “Why wouldn’t I want to stay here? It’s gorgeous. The view is amazing. The inside is cozy. It couldn’t be any safer unless you posted guards outside. Plus, all the bad guys have been captured or killed, remember?” Even the released terrorists had been brought back into custody. None of them had ever been out of sight of the members of SWAT tracking them until they could be re-apprehended in the first place.

  He shot her a glance as he turned the lock. He didn’t bother pointing out that the world was filled with bad guys, many of whom were still alive and well, some of whom were probably equally pissed with his feisty woman who put them in jail.

  Instead, he pointed out the other obvious elephant. “It doesn’t bother you that two men were lurking around this place while we were luckily out to dinner?”

  “Nope.” She passed under his arm as he swung the door open.

  A moment later, he shut the door and reset the alarm.

  “Everything is right where we left it.”

  “I hope so,” he teased. “If it isn’t, we aren’t staying here tonight.”

  She wrapped an arm around him and giggled. “I’ve missed you.”

  He lifted a brow as he brushed her soft hair off her forehead, trying not to wince at the angry scar where the stitches had been removed yesterday. “I haven’t been out of your sight for two days. How could you miss me?”

  She giggled again. “I wanted to see more of you.”

  “More than every second except when you showered and used the bathroom?” He knew what she was telling him, but he still enjoyed the banter.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’d rather you be in the shower with me and wear far less clothing during the day and none at night.”

  He pulled her closer, finding it hard to keep his hands off her if only to remind himself regularly she was still alive. “I think those things can all be arranged.”

  “You don’t have to go back to work for two more weeks, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “And since I’m taking two weeks also, I say we make the most out of it. It has to last us awhile. Who knows where you’ll be sent or for how long.”

  He wasn’t convinced this idea of the two of them going about their lives as normal was a good one, but until they came up with a better plan, they were stuck. She had mentioned bargaining with God during her hours of terror, but he argued that in the light of day she wasn’t cut out to waddle around barefoot and pregnant, baking cookies and making casseroles.

  Within months she would regret the decision and it would eat at her until it came between them.

  For the next two weeks, they had agreed to table the discussion and get to know each other all over again.

  The first thing Mike wanted to do was peel off her clothes while backing her down the hall until they fell into bed. He intended to explore every inch of her, fulfilling every image he’d conjured in his mind for the last week.

  It was probably for the best that she’d chosen to stay with her dad. If she’d gone back to her own condo, Mike probably wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands to himself, and she’d needed to recuperate.

  He didn’t have the patience to head for the bedroom yet though. Instead, still standing inside the front door, he reached beneath her sweater and flattened his hands on her bare skin, making her shudder. “Ms. Carver, this shirt has got to go,” he stated as he shoved it up over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  “Mr. Dorsen, tit for tat, I agree.” She grabbed the hem of his polo and dragged it over his head too, lifting onto tiptoes while he bent at the knees to help her.

  “Ms. Carver,” he stated, unable to control his shock when he lowered his gaze to her tits. “Wherever did you get something so scandalous?” He cupped her breasts through the black lacy lingerie that barely covered her nipples and left miles of creamy flesh around the edges.

  For a moment he couldn’t breathe. She was so stunning.

  “You like?”

  “God, Zola. You have to ask?” He thumbed both her nipples through the material, forcing a whimper from her lips.

&nbs
p; “I guess that’s a yes,” she whispered breathily.

  “Please tell me there’s a super skimpy swatch of lace that matches this excuse for a bra under your jeans.”

  “You’ll have to take them off to find out,” she teased.

  He slowly backed her up until her ass hit the wall next to the front door, and then he lowered to a crouch—ignoring the twitch in his knee—and popped the button on her jeans. When he slid the zipper down and then tugged the denim over her hips, his breath caught. “You naughty girl.”

  She moaned, flattening her palms on the wall at her sides.

  The matching item she wore under those jeans was not a pair of panties at all. It was a thong. And that was also a stretch. But that wasn’t the only thing that caught his eye. “You’re a super naughty girl.” He leaned forward, reverently inhaling her musk, unable to take his gaze off the small strip of well-groomed strawberry-blond hair that peeked out the top of the thong.

  He didn’t take his eyes off her as he finished removing her jeans. He had to tap her feet to get her to kick her heels off, but when she did, he steadied her with a hand at her hip while she stepped out of the jeans.

  “Zola…” His voice caught in his throat. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to stare at her in this thong that held only the tiniest of surprises behind it or if he wanted to yank it off her body to finish the visual in his head of what lay behind the triangle.

  He decided on the first option for the time being and pressed a soft kiss to the lace before licking a line around the edge of the thong while she gasped and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

  When she lifted onto her toes once again, he took advantage of the extra few inches and dragged his tongue over her pussy, reaching between her legs to hit her folds.

  She moaned, already so ready for him he could taste it. “We didn’t make it to the bedroom,” she mumbled.

  “Overrated.” He grabbed her hips, held her steady, and sucked her clit into his mouth through the thong.

  She squealed, pressing her pussy against him wantonly.

  He eased his hands around until he could reach under the elastic with his thumbs, pulling the lace away from her pussy. When the air hit her, she gasped.

  He reached under the material and stroked her folds with his tongue.

  “Mike…” Her voice was distant, though he wasn’t sure if it was because she was so gone she had whispered or if he was so horny, his ears were ringing.

  Either way he was lost to her. “I need to taste you, baby.”

  “You have tasted me. Nothing has changed. Take your jeans off and make love to me.” She hesitated, and then added, “Please.”

  Instead of heeding her advice, he eased her thong down her legs and pushed them wider. When he leaned forward to set his knees on the floor, his injured knee complained, but he adjusted his weight and focused on the feast before him.

  Starting slow, to keep her on the edge, he stroked his thumbs over her lower lips and parted them.

  She gasped when he pushed both thumbs an inch inside her, stretching her open. Her legs trembled, which made him even hornier. His cock was pressed uncomfortably tight in his jeans, but he didn’t want to stop enjoying her to adjust or take off his jeans yet.

  When he set his mouth over her bare clit and sucked it between his lips, she rose onto her tiptoes, buried her fingers in his hair, and moaned.

  He couldn’t tell if she was pushing on his head or trying to pull him closer, but he liked it. The sting of her fingers against his scalp caused his cock to stiffen further.

  He flicked his tongue over her clit rapidly while her noises increased, the sounds rising and falling as he imagined her head rocking back and forth against the wall.

  When she froze, her thighs going rigid against his shoulders, he flattened his tongue over her clit and inhaled long and slow while she came.

  He held her close, keeping the intense pressure against her clit and inside her as she rode out the waves. It wasn’t until she lowered onto her flat feet and sighed that he eased out of her pussy and released her clit.

  “Mike…” Sultry, sated, fulfilled.

  He wiped his lips on his hand and rose in front of her, sliding his body along hers as he did. When he was fully standing, she tipped her head back, a languid, satisfied smile filling her entire expression.

  She set her lips on his ear, mimicking the way he normally did hers. In a soft, sultry voice she whispered, “I don’t think you heard me.”

  “What, baby?” he asked.

  “Take your jeans off. Now.”

  He grinned, but his hands went to his button, and then his zipper, and then he was shoving the denim down his thighs until the jeans fell to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and then his jeans while his lips found hers. He licked the seam of her mouth first, but when she let him in, he plunged, tasting every inch of her while sharing the flavor of her pussy.

  If it squicked her out, he would never know. She faked it well, consuming him with as much desire as he did her.

  She broke the kiss first, nibbling on his lips. “Now, Mike. I’m dying here.”

  He grabbed her waist and lifted her off the floor, dragging her against the wall and holding her up under her arms. When she was high enough, he lodged his cock at her entrance and slowly lowered her over the tip.

  He forced himself to watch her face, taking in every nuance as her eyes fluttered and then clouded and then closed. Her face was flushed a deep shade of red he loved on her. It made him increase his pace, knowing she was as aroused as him. Maybe more so.

  He was close. So close. But he wanted to watch her come again first, so he kept his gaze on her and forced himself to ignore the driving need to come.

  Her mouth fell open, her lips swollen and wet from their kiss. God, she was fucking gorgeous.

  He gritted his teeth as he continued to lift her off him and then plunged back into her tight warmth. Just when he thought there was no way in hell he could hold off another second, she came. Her head slumped forward over his shoulder as she moaned louder and then repeated his name over and over. “Mike… Mike, Mike, Mike…”

  He emptied himself inside her, holding her tight over his cock buried deep. His pulsing matched hers beat for beat.

  Emotion swept through him. Damn, he loved her. Was it too soon to tell her? She told him as much before running from her father’s house a week ago, but that had been in an extremely stressful situation. Would she say it again now?

  * * *

  Zola had never been so happy in her life. Three blissful days of nothing but lounging around on the beach with the man she had loved for almost half her life. It was insane how things worked out. Their relationship was both new and old at the same time.

  Everything they did in bed or even getting to know each other was fresh and fun, but on the flip side they fell into a comfortable pace that was no different from when they were teenagers. At heart, they had not changed. Their passion for their work and each other was the same. They each had fire and drive that most people they knew didn’t have.

  In some couples that sameness would have been too much. Perhaps driven them apart. But not Zola and Mike. They thrived off talking over one another and falling in love all over again.

  Ignoring their real lives and the jobs they had put on hold for two weeks, they spent most of their time naked in bed or wrapped up in coats on the beach where the temperature outside was frigid most days. Gorgeous but cold.

  She giggled as she gripped his hand and dragged him farther down to the edge of the water. It was early in the morning. Most people weren’t out yet, and it wasn’t tourist season, so locals weren’t inclined to endure this cold.

  He groaned. “How far are we going? I like you better inside the house. You wear too many layers when we come out here.”

  She laughed again. “Get a grip, big guy. We’re getting some exercise. It’s called walking. It’s a half hour out of your day. The sun is warm. The waves are beautiful. The sand feels
good beneath my tennis shoes. Lifting weights and running indoors on a treadmill aren’t the only forms of exercise on the planet.”

  “I think I’m more inclined to go with your initial assessment the first day you arrived.”

  “What was that?” She cocked her head to one side, her brow furrowed.

  “You couldn’t figure out why someone would want to vacation on a cold beach at the wrong time of year.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I get it now. I’m hooked. We get the best of both worlds. Days outside in the fresh air where we’re wearing too many clothes to be tempted, and nights inside naked where we’re wearing too few clothes to care about the beach. If it were summer, we wouldn’t even spend five minutes out here. One look at you in your trunks and I’d be hauling your ass back inside.”

  His smile was infectious. And then he reared back and laughed. “That’s so complicated, I’m not even sure I followed your logic. But”—he enveloped her in his arms—“I do know I’m ready to go back into the house and switch to the naked part.” He kissed her soundly, sending a shudder down her body.

  Every time his lips or hand or any part of him touched her, she nearly swooned. Her knees grew week. Her nipples pebbled. Her pussy moistened, preparing itself to take him. Which she would gladly do anywhere any time.

  She was a new woman. Totally enamored. Her first real vacation in years, and definitely the first time she was with a man she really enjoyed and wanted to give herself to completely. Not just her body, but her soul.

  So, what was the problem?

  Niggling in the back of her mind was the fact that they had two separate lives. They were on the vacation of a lifetime, but it had to end. In eleven days, they would have to return to their real lives. Lives that didn’t mesh. Lives that were intense and happened in different states.

  Sure, in the heat of things while she was being held hostage by madmen, she’d promised God she would gladly quit her job and become a housewife to a man who would take his next assignment God only knew where. However, in the light of day, she knew that would suffocate her.