Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(95)

His morning erection stirred. Something hot and wet licked over his hardened length. Ethan groaned and his eyes cracked open. Not a dream. Better than any dream he’d ever had. His hand slid into Val’s heavy blond hair as she took him into her mouth, laved and teased, and pleasure tore through him.

Jesus God, she was amazing. He clamped down on his control and let her play for a while, enjoying the hot sensations spearing through his body. Then, careful of her arm, he lifted her up and settled her astride him.

“You want to take charge. Go ahead.”

She grinned devilishly, displaying her dimples, then rose up and took him deep, began moving sweetly and driving him insane. Ethan cupped her breasts as she tilted forward, her soft blond curls swinging down, cocooning them both as she rocked back and forth and started to come.

He ground his jaw, caught her hips, and drove into her until she came again, then allowed his own release.

Afterward, she snuggled next to him in the queen-size bed, her back to his front, his arm draped over her waist.

Damn, he was crazy about her. He couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Hadn’t since the moment he had seen her huddled over his daughter, protecting the child with her life. He’d figured out early she was nothing like Allison Winfield. But as bullets flew around them and blood soaked her shirt, he realized that unlike the disdain he felt for Allison, he felt only admiration for Val.

And before Ally had turned his life upside down, Val would have been everything he wanted in a woman.

He wondered what she would say if she knew.

But Val had suffered enough violence in her life and she didn’t want more. She didn’t want a man whose job required him to own a Glock and a tactical vest.

And he wasn’t the kind of man who’d be happy doing anything else.

Ethan sighed into the quiet. He needed to get dressed and get going. It was almost time for Pete to spell Joe. Careful to park his vehicle down the lane out of sight, the outside man positioned himself in the location they had chosen, which provided the best vantage point to watch the house. Every hour, he walked the perimeter, then returned to his place out of sight among the trees.

Ethan had instructed the men to phone if they spotted anything the least bit out of the ordinary. They were not to engage except in self-defense. They were the eyes and ears of the security operation.

Ethan was the primary line of defense.

But two full days had passed since he and Val had taken refuge in the house. Ethan had gone through each of his old case files and managed to come up with a couple of names, but he didn’t believe the men he’d helped put in jail posed any actual threat. He had talked to Hoover and given him the names. Hoover would follow up, but so far the police had come up with squat on the shooter.

Time was ticking away, and though the men on his team hadn’t complained, Ethan couldn’t allow their vigil to go on much longer. The immediate danger was past. He couldn’t stay locked away forever. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could convince Val to stay cooped up either.

In the meantime, he planned to call Luke, ask him to stand in while he did some badly needed legwork. He intended to go back and knock on doors in Val’s neighborhood, see if someone might have remembered something after the police were there.

At least getting out of the house might get his brain working, spur his mind to come up with some fresh ideas. Something that would give them a break in the case.

He showered and pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved thermal in concession to the rainy weather, passed Val as he came out of the bathroom. She went up on her toes and kissed his mouth, then yawned and went in to take her shower.

Her arm was feeling better, she’d said, but every time he thought of how the shot could have been a few inches lower, could have hit some vital part of her body, how the injury could have been fatal, he felt sick to his stomach.

The familiar two-and-one rap at the door told him Luke was outside. He hadn’t phoned his brother yet, but Luke had uncanny intuition.

He figured it was Luke, but when he looked through the peephole, Dirk stood on the porch. Dirk turned and waved to Pete, who was heading up the hill in a dark gray rain slicker to take his shift.

Ethan pulled open the door. “You look like hell,” he said, assessing the three-day growth of beard on Dirk’s face, the water plastering his too-long hair against the dragon tattoo crawling up the side of his neck. His black leather jacket and denim shirt were soaked, his black leather pants running water all over the floor.

“Yeah, well, I was all the way to hell and gone out in the San Juans when you called two days ago. It was sunny when I left Seattle, rained all the way back. My timing sucks.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, sliding away a palm full of water. “I shouldn’t have left in the first place, not with everything going on.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. The shooter came out of the blue.”

“How’s Val? She okay?”

“I’m good,” Val said, walking toward them down the hall in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, her blond hair pulled up in a bouncy ponytail on top of her head. Just looking at her made his chest feel tight. “My arm doesn’t hurt much anymore.”

Dirk eyed her gravely. “Jesus, Val.”

“Really, I’m okay.”

“What about Meg?” Dirk asked, clearly worried. “Have you talked to her? Is she all right?”