Honor Reclaimed (HORNET #2)

Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Two days.

According to Tuc’s intel, they had two days to prepare. The team spent countless hours in the war room, running scenarios—what if this, what if that—covering all their bases. Whenever they weren’t talking the mission to death, they ran grueling training missions with Tuc and his men.

No room for error.

The afternoon before the raid, they performed one last training exercise, a mock run at an abandoned mansion similar to Siddiqui’s.

It went off without a hitch.

Back on the helo, Seth relaxed into his seat, flying high on the job well done, feeling lighter than he had in years. He’d fucking done it. He hadn’t frozen up once during any of the missions.

They actually had a shot at pulling this off.

He wasn’t the only one revved, either. The mood on the helo had done a complete 180 from the ride in, the men now joking and laughing, releasing forty-eight nonstop hours of tension.

Quinn, in the seat across from Seth, smirked under the dirt and paint coating his face. “Hey, Ace,” he called over the rotor noise and leaned forward. “Nice shooting. Knew you’d show those motherfuckers.”

“Which ones? The baddies or these assholes?” he asked, tilting his head toward the rest of the team.

“All of them.”

“Oorah!”

Quinn held out a fist. Seth met him halfway and knocked their knuckles together as the bird started its descent. He glanced out the door and saw Phoebe standing on the roof next to Tuc Quentin, shielding her eyes from the prop wash. Her loose shirt whipped around her body, alternately showing flashes of skin at her belly and plastering itself to her curves.

All of his exuberance coalesced along his spine and nailed him in the balls. Instant. Hard-on.

As soon as the helo’s runners hit the rooftop, he hopped out.

Tuc gave them a round of applause. “Nice job, guys.”

But Seth’s focus had narrowed to one person, the woman in front of him, who looked torn between wanting to smile and wanting to smack him. And, holy hell, that shouldn’t have been a turn-on, but if he got any harder right now, he was going to have trouble walking.

She opened her mouth as he approached, and he slid a hand around the back of her neck, dragging her to him, covering her mouth with his own. Claiming. Branding.

He swallowed her gasp, and her fingers dug into his shoulders, but she didn’t fight him. Perfect. He was sick of fighting with her. And fighting with himself about her. He wanted the easy intimacy they’d had together in the village before he’d gotten all screwed up in the head again.

He wanted her.

He backed her up into the elevator without ever lifting his mouth from hers. Vaguely heard some cheers and lewd comments behind them and flipped the guys off over his shoulder. Laughter boomed as the doors slid shut.

Alone.

At freaking last.

He cupped her waist, skimming his hands under her shirt, filling his palms with her breasts. Her nipples stood erect under the fabric of her bra, and he slid his fingers inside the cup, finding those gorgeous little peaks with his thumb. She trembled under his touch and broke her mouth from his on a moan as the elevator doors slid open again on the second floor.

Damn, was there any sexier sound than that?

Bed. He had to get her into his bed. Get her naked. And bury himself as deep inside her as he could.

“Whoa,” she gasped and slapped a hand to his chest when he would have scooped her into his arms. “Hold on just a dang minute.” She took a moment to catch her breath. Then she poked her index finger at his sternum. “For the past two days, you’ve treated me like I was contagious, avoiding me at all costs. And now you’re trying to back me into a dark corner and have your way with me? I don’t think so, buddy.”

She ducked out of his embrace and caught the elevator door before it closed her in with him again. He wasn’t quite fast enough and had to ride the elevator up a floor. He burst from the car as soon as the doors opened again and raced down the swooping staircase to the room she’d been given on the second floor, spotting her at her door. “Phoebe.”

Chin raised with indignation, she ignored him and, again, he wasn’t quick enough. Got there just as the door slammed in his face. He tried the knob, found it locked, and scowled at the wood. “Phoebe, open up.”

“Nope. You’re being an asshole.”

Oh, was he ever going to regret the day he told her to call him out on that.

“C’mon. Can we talk?”

“We could’ve if your tongue wasn’t down my throat. Go away. I’m taking a shower.”

He groaned and pressed his forehead against the door. Phoebe. In the shower. Not the mental image he needed when he could still hammer nails with his cock. The damn thing hadn’t shown any interest in any woman for years, and now, suddenly, it wouldn’t behave when he needed it to.

Voices echoed down the hall and he shoved away from the door, following the sound until he found the rec room, where Jean-Luc and Marcus had started a game of pool.

“Hey, man,” Marcus said and straightened from the table to chalk his cue. “That was a quickie. We figured we wouldn’t see you until just before go time.”

“She shut me out of her room.”

“Bummer. Well, we’re not as pretty but you can hang with us for the evening. We’re celebrating Zak’s good prognosis. And taking advantage of our excellent accommodations while we can.”

“Can’t drink, though,” Jean-Luc muttered and lifted a bottle of water in toast. “Orders from our esteemed capitaine . Gotta keep our heads straight for the mission. So, up for a game of pool? No, wait.” He scowled and pointed an accusing finger. “You shoot pool like you play poker? ‘Cause if so, I ain’t fool enough to play against you.”

“Pool’s not my game,” Seth admitted, eying the table. “Never was very good at geometry.”

“All right then. I take that back. Care to join us, mon ami ?”

“Nope.” Struck with a sudden idea, he crooked a finger at Marcus. Like hell he’d let Phoebe shut herself away from him. Now that he had his head on straight again, they had to talk. “Need you, DeAngelo.”

“Well, I’m flattered, Harlan. But I prefer my partners a little more… I dunno.” He tucked his cue under his arm and mimed an hourglass figure in the air. “Curvy. With longer hair.”

“Mmm, don’t matter to me if it’s long hair, short hair, or no hair, as long as they got a nice ass,” Jean-Luc said.

“Gotta agree with you there. But no cock. That’s where I draw the line. Va-jay-jay all the way.”

Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. “ Mais , speak for yourself, mon frère . I’m an equal opportunist fucker.”

“Well, you got the fucker part right.”

And the two laughed like a pair of drunk frat boys, knocking their cues together.

Seth rolled his eyes but found he was fighting a smile. Jesus, he hadn’t smiled this much in years. Or laughed. Or scowled. Cried. Feared.

Loved.

Yeah, all kinds of messy emotions he’d kept locked up inside were suddenly bubbling to the surface. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with them all or even how to begin sorting through them. All he knew for sure was he had some groveling to do.

“I need your skills, DeAngelo,” he said when the laughter died down. “Not your dick. I need you to pick a lock.”

“Oh. That I can do.”

As Marcus leaned his cue against the wall, Seth couldn’t help but add, “Besides, you can’t handle this much sexy.”

Marcus stopped short, and his mouth fell open. He exchanged a surprised look with Jean-Luc. The expression on both of their faces clearly said, Holy shit, Seth Harlan cracked a joke.

“What?” he said a little defensively. “I do have a sense of humor.”

Jean-Luc finally laughed. “It’s nice to see it make an appearance.”

Annnd awkward silence.

“About that lock?” Marcus motioned for him to lead the way. “No cheating while I’m gone, Cajun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jean-Luc said, and they heard the crack of his cue hitting a ball as they left the room.

Marcus shrugged. “Ah, he was winning anyway.”

Phoebe left her bedroom’s en suite, still reveling in the luxury of hot water as sweet-scented steam followed her across the carpet. The heat had done marvelous things for all of the lingering aches and pains left over from her near-death experience, and she felt somewhat human again.

Tuc’s house was a palace next to the rundown shelter with its cold showers and stingy water pressure. And compared to the rustic living conditions in the mountains, hot water, soap, and even the plush carpet under her feet felt downright decadent. Admittedly, the shower had factored into her decision to stay here instead of going back to the shelter.

Well, the shower and Seth. Even though he shouldn’t have had anything to do with it since she’d spent the last two days convincing herself the abrupt end of their relationship had been a good thing. Which it was. Helpless against the pull of attraction, she’d been incapable of keeping her distance from him despite knowing all the reasons she should. But as long as their awkward morning after continued to anchor a wedge between them, it wasn’t a problem. He avoided her, and her secrets remained safe. She remained safe. There was no more risk of falling in love with him—which she’d been dangerously close to doing, dammit—and she’d never have to reveal that she’d once lambasted him in the press. She’d never have to hurt him.

Or at least that had been her plan until he kissed her on the roof. Thank God she’d come to her senses before things progressed past heavy groping. And thank God this bedroom had a lock on the door.

Stopping in front of a giant bureau, she opened the top drawer in search of panties, grateful Zina had dropped her belongings off when she picked up Darya and her son. It was nice to have her own clothes again. She’d just picked out a pair of functional blue cotton when the door burst open behind her.

The locked door.

She squeaked and dropped the panties. Nearly dropped her towel, too, but managed to catch the slipping terrycloth and tuck it around her breasts again as Seth strode in like he belonged.

She gaped at him. “How did you?—?”

Marcus stood out in the hall, rolling up his lock pick set. He gave a guilty wave. She glared. He shrugged. Seth pushed the door shut, blocking her view, but she continued to scowl at the wood.

Ugh. She was so going to take an unflattering picture of Marcus in a compromising position—wouldn’t be difficult because, hello, this was Marcus DeAngelo, by all accounts, the second biggest man-whore on the team. Then she’d blow the photo up to a life-sized portrait and ship it to his mother. That’d show him for picking locks to ladies’ bedrooms.

Seth moved into her line of sight. “We need to talk.”

Oh, no. Talking was a bad idea. Talking meant he wanted more than one night, and she couldn’t give him that. She clenched the towel tighter and turned her glare on him. “You need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving until we clear some things between us.”

A bubble of panic expanded in her chest, and she backed away, stumbling a little on her own feet as she reached blindly behind her for the bathroom door. If she shut herself in there, he’d eventually take the hint and leave, right?

“Leave. Please.” She spun away, but his arm banded around her from behind. He lifted her clear off her feet and turned her into his chest, holding her tight for a long time. His heart thudded under her ear, making her think of their time in bed together. The memories, combined with the gentle slide of his hands down her back, heated her from the inside out.

“Seth, no,” she protested, but her voice came out faint and embarrassingly submissive, and she didn’t have the willpower to push him away when his arms felt so good around her. “Please, just…go.”

“All right,” he said after a moment but didn’t release her. “If you let me explain myself first.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“Yes, I do. For several things.” He drew a deep breath and finally set her back at arm’s length. “Starting with that moment on the roof and in the elevator—it was a slip on my part. I was high on adrenaline, and you were standing there next to Tuc looking so pretty, and your infatuation with him tapped into something?—”

She gaped. “What on earth are you talking about? What infatuation with Tuc?”

“What infatuation?” he echoed incredulously. “Are you kidding? It’s obvious. You salivate every time he walks into a room.”

She knocked his hands away from her shoulders. “Because I want his picture. Do you know how much magazines pay for shots of him? Enough that I could set Zina and the shelter up in a place like this and have enough left over to travel the world. Twice!”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Oh.”

“Oh’s right, you dummy.”

“But you—” He shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “No, never mind. That’s not the point. We’re getting off track. I need to apologize for the other day. For the way I left. It wasn’t—I, uh, didn’t mean—I couldn’t—aw, fuck.” He paused, rubbed a hand back and forth over his hair a few times, and winced. “Listen, I let myself get all knotted up again, but that was no excuse for walking out like you meant nothing to me. Because you do. Mean something.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “More than something, actually.”

“But…what about Emma?”

His brow wrinkled in an expression of genuine confusion. “Emma? She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“She does if you still love her.”

“What? No, I don’t love her.”

She didn’t bother hiding her doubt. “You don’t?”

“No.” But then he blew out a breath. “Okay, I admit I miss what I had with her, and I like the idea of what we could’ve been. But that’s it. I don’t love her anymore. I haven’t seen her in years and barely know her now.”

“Then why carry her photo around?”

His hand covered the pocket of his vest before he caught himself and dropped it to his side. “It’s…hard to explain.”

“Try.”

He said nothing. And more nothing. So much nothing, in fact, that she figured their conversation—and relationship—was officially over. Because despite all of her protests to the contrary, she wanted to talk with him. Without communication, they’d never have anything but sex. If she’d learned nothing else from her ex-husband, it was that harsh reality.

She bent to retrieve her dropped panties, then opened the bureau drawer to find something more substantial to wear than a towel. “Like I said, you need to leave.”

Seth touched her shoulder. “I can’t explain it. Just… know I don’t love her anymore. I’m a one-woman man, and right now, that woman is you.”

Sighing, she gave up on trying to maintain her distance. How could she stay away from him after an admission like that? It meant she’d have to come clean with him about her past, but not now. At this moment, she only wanted to hold him.

“What am I going to do with you?” She spun around and walked into his arms. “You spend too much time and energy dwelling on all the bad parts of life, you miss out on the good. The two of us together, that was some of the good.” She kissed his chin. “And we can have it again if you want.”

“I do want,” he breathed next to her ear. “That’s gotta be obvious. I can’t control myself around you. It’s like my cock has a mind of its own.”

She slid a hand between them, found him hard, and squeezed him lightly through the fabric of his pants. “Hmm. And explain to me why that’s a problem?”