Samantha Hunter - Straight to the Heart

“Are you sure?” he asked, not moving.

His hand slid up the side of her rib cage, his thumb moving lightly over a nipple, making her suck in a breath and arch, even though she tried to stop her reaction.

“You’re my boss,” she said, unsure what relevance that would have, but apparently she’d hit the right key.

He stilled, pressed up tight against her, staring down.

“I would never use that. Not in this way,” he said seriously, his hand dropping to the side of her. “Not at all. In fact, I’ve never slept with anyone I worked with, though I have to admit, none of the people I worked with were as hot as you.”

“I—I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t … seem like the type to coerce someone into sleeping with you. It’s just that … it can make things complicated.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Is there someone else? Are you worried about your ex?”

“No to both,” she said, knowing that she was just opening the door she really should be closing.

“Good,” he said, looking down at her intently. “I’m fine with being your in-between. Your rebound guy,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her throat in a way that made her melt again. “We could have some fun,” he promised. “No strings attached. At work, it’s just work. No pressure.”

So, so tempting.

Joanna wasn’t sure she wanted to say no. What was the harm, after all?

Then he lifted away from her, and the heat of his body was replaced with the blasting air of the AC hitting her directly.

Callahan stood by the side of the bed, extended a hand. She ignored it, and rolled to standing, fixing her clothes. She didn’t catch herself in time to prevent a wince as she rolled over her still sore shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Your shoulder, you hurt it.”

Thank goodness the T-shirt she wore hid the scar from the bullet wound. She covered it up with makeup when she wore anything revealing, but she knew he’d recognize it for what it was. Thank God he hadn’t managed to get her shirt off. She kicked herself for forgetting, but it was a good reminder of why this couldn’t happen.

“I tweaked it carrying a heavy load of dishes, that’s all.”

“You could let one of us get the really heavy trays.”

“Sure. I will next time,” she said cooperatively, which made him narrow his eyes.

“I think it’s not a good idea. You know, us, hooking up,” she added.

Looking him in the eye, it took no small amount of discipline not to let her gaze slip lower.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

They stood there, facing each other until she turned and walked out of the room. He followed, not saying a word. In the front room, comforted by the brighter light from the lamp, she wrapped her arms around herself, still warm and aroused, trying not to focus on how amazing he looked.

He smiled a little, killing her, and walked to the door. “Let me know if everything is okay with the AC, and, you know … if you change your mind.”

She smiled, nodding, and didn’t dare say a word in case she asked him not to go. When he was gone, she fell back into the chair and thought the next few weeks might not be quite as easy as she thought.

BEN KNEW THAT JOANNA WAS RIGHT. It probably wasn’t a good idea for them to get together, but after having her under him, he was only interested in getting her naked and in bed. He was pretty sure smart had nothing to do with it. He was also sure she wanted him just as much, and while they could back off for a while, if she stayed on here, it was going to happen.

He checked in on the band as they were doing their sound checks and visited with a few people across the room, the crowd thickening as the hour passed. Business would be good tonight.

Louis, the extra weekend bartender, was on drinks and Ben wondered where Charlie was. Heading back to the kitchen, Ben walked over to the huge pot on the stove where Charlie’s secret-recipe chili was bubbling away. Large pans of corn bread were cooling on the massive wooden block that dominated the center of the cooking space. That would be the only item on the menu tonight. Thursday through Saturday were specials-only nights. Most of the crowd was there for drinking and dancing, anyway.

Ben had no idea what his friend did to that chili, and Charlie wouldn’t tell anyone, but it was the best Ben had ever had in his life. It would be gone before the night was over, and Ben made a mental note to make sure he snagged a bowl or two before he went back to the house.

Charlie and Lisa would handle the night shift, giving Ben the evening off. Tonight, though, he was antsy, and he would rather have stayed busy.

He moved toward his office, the idea of balancing books was probably the only thing that could calm his desire after leaving Joanna. On the way, he heard some curious noises and stilled, listening closer.

After a moment, he realized he was hearing lusty sounds of sex that were quite identifiable and coming from the employee lounge. A female voice cried out, obviously too excited to keep mute, quickly followed by chuckling and whispers.

Charlie and Lisa, he realized, with no small bit of shock. Obviously thinking they were alone and taking a quick break out back.

Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Or, rather, he was fine—glad even—about his friends getting together, but break-room sex was a little … brazen. Not to mention breaking several health codes, he thought with a smile.

Maybe he was just jealous since he and Joanna hadn’t managed to close the deal. He’d happily break a few health codes with her. Taking a breath, he decided to bypass his office and head straight back out to the house. He didn’t want Charlie and Lisa knowing anyone had heard them. If they hadn’t said anything, it was because they wanted to keep whatever they were doing a secret. That was their business.

Needing to work off some steam, he ran upstairs in the two-story cabin and grabbed his shorts and running shoes.

He didn’t bother warming up but hit the side of the long road heading away from the Lucky Break running full-out. His body welcomed the punishment, and he pushed it harder in the second mile, muscles burning, but the nice rhythm that eventually set in calmed some of the agitation from the encounter with Joanna.

Not that any amount of exercise could equal the satisfaction he imagined he could find in her arms, but it would have to be close enough, since he was at an impasse.

Lost in his thoughts, he slowed down in the third mile and cast a glance backward as he noted an SUV behind him, in the distance. No problem. The sun was still up and he was easily visible. Drivers around here were always on the lookout for cattle or any wild animals that happened onto the road, especially at dusk.

To be extra safe, however, Ben moved over onto the sandy dirt on the side, keeping his pace as he heard the engine noise grow closer.

Pacing his breathing with his steps, he ignored the tingling at the base of his neck at first, something he’d always counted on as a SEAL as a sure sign that there was a problem.

The car had slowed down. Two people in the car. It hung back slightly. He slowed, and then heard the engine gun.

“Let’s see what’s going on,” Ben said to himself and turned right, heading off into the desert landscape, running toward a dune that would be too steep even for a vehicle outfitted for sand, which this one wasn’t.

He picked up the pace, closing the half mile to the dune, and sure enough, looked behind to see the SUV speed up, leaving the road and taking chase.

Ben knew every feature of the local landscape like the back of his hand, and as the sun started to lower on the horizon, shadows stretched over the ground and he hoped that would give him an advantage.

The SUV had four-wheel drive, and while it wasn’t doing as well negotiating around rocks and brush as Ben was, it was closing the distance between them too quickly. Ben headed up the sand hill and ignored the burning in his calves that told him he wasn’t working out as hard as he should be. He made a mental promise to start getting off the road and running across the mountains daily. Civilian life was no reason to become soft.

He made it to the top as the sun was dipping down under the horizon. With the advantage of cover and higher ground, he saw the SUV plow into the base of the dune, unable to follow.

“Now you’ll have to get out on foot, idiots,” he muttered, ducking down behind a fallen tree trunk to wait.

There were numerous other things to worry about in the desert as night fell, but for the moment, the two men who slammed the car doors shut and started up the dune were his biggest concern.

He could slide down the other side, circle around and get the car, leave them stranded. But he wanted to know who they were, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be back.

Watching one guy silently tell the other guy to split directions, Ben smiled to himself. Individually, he could take them both pretty easily.

Staying low, he went for the bigger one first. If he had the drop on that guy, it wouldn’t be hard to convince the other to give up.

They weren’t even wearing boots, he observed, watching one stop to dump sand out of what was probably an expensive dress shoe.

Doubling back over the top of the dune, Ben walked nearly silently, until he was standing behind the big man, who had his gun drawn. Ben poked him on the shoulder, and the guy jumped, surprised.

The gun went off, and Ben wasted no time grabbing the guy’s firing arm—controlling the hand that held the gun was always the first priority—and followed up with a hard left-cross that threw the guy backwards down the hill. His gun flew out of his hands as he tumbled down to the bottom, where he lay motionless.

Ben slid down the sandy face of the red sand dune feet-first, focused on his prey, not noticing the pain and abrasions his arms and legs were sustaining on the way down.

Grabbing the unconscious man, Ben confirmed that he was still living and grabbed his wallet, checking for what was inside: the ID was clearly fake, and Ben threw it back to the dirt. The car was a rental, though he noted the plate and rental company.

Moments later, he heard the labored breathing of the other guy approaching from the opposite side of the truck. Ben wasn’t the only one who needed to get in better shape, apparently.

The other assailant came around the back of the car. Ben slammed him hard, his gun going off before he dropped it and Ben got an arm lock on his throat.

“Who are you?” Ben demanded.

“Did you kill him?” the guy asked, sounding young and staring at the first guy, who was still out cold.

Ben didn’t respond, letting the guy’s fear work for him, squeezing a little tighter. One good twist and he would snap the man’s neck, though he had no intention of doing that. His prey didn’t know that, however.

The guy tried to fight, unsuccessfully, wheezing out a breath as Ben tightened his grip.

“Who. Are. You? And who sent you?” Ben asked again.

“Don’t know,” the guy huffed out. “We—we were hired anonymously, through contacts, you know? They gave us a picture, a location, said make it look like an accident. That’s all I know.”

Ben was inclined to believe him. The thug was young and had cracked too quickly under pressure.

“You need to find a better line of work, kid, before you end up dying young,” Ben said. “Get your buddy, leave, don’t come back, or you won’t get a second chance. Got it? You can pass that on to whoever hired you, too.”