Radclyffe - Price of Honor

“Viv,” Dusty gasped. “Can I?”

“Yes, God yes,” Viv whispered against Dusty’s mouth. She clasped Dusty’s wrist, pulled Dusty’s hand around her body, and pressed it to her breast. Electricity sparked, tendrils of pleasure twisted in her depths, and her back arched. “Oh, that feels so good. God, I’ve wanted your hands on me.”

Dusty backed up and guided Viv down to the narrow bunk and somehow got them both on without breaking their kiss. She braced herself above Viv on one elbow, brushed her fingers lightly over Viv’s nipple and down the inner curve of her breast.

Viv slipped her legs around Dusty’s narrow hips and pulled her tight between her thighs. The pressure was agonizing and exquisite. “Your mouth…”

“What?” Dusty gasped, her eyes dark and deep, searching Viv’s. “Tell me what.”

“Your mouth on me…my breasts. God. Please.”

Dusty’s lips parted in a feral grin and she pushed Viv’s sweater up in one swift sweep. Her mouth closed around Viv’s nipple, firm and sure.

Viv bucked, a white-hot arrow streaking low, unerring in its target. Her clit tightened and she gasped. “Oh yes. Like that.”

Time stopped. Thought fled. Dusty’s awareness became only the sensation in her mouth. Incredible softness. Heat. Breathless awe. The pounding of her own heart, wild and urgent. Her teeth grazed the firm peak and Viv gave a tiny mewling cry. Dusty bit gently and the sound came again, making her blood thrum in her veins.

“No, no, no,” Viv chanted, her fingers fluttering at Dusty’s nape. “No more, you’ll make me come.”

Viv’s cries made everything inside Dusty pulse, and she did it again. She replaced her mouth with her hand and moved to the other breast, sucking gently at first and then harder until Viv’s cries were constant. Dusty raised her head, afraid she was hurting her.

Viv stared at her with sightless eyes. “No, you’re good. So good. Don’t stop, I’m so close.”

Dusty followed the movement of Viv’s hips with hers, pressing down rhythmically, and played her nipples again and again and again. Viv’s fingers bored into her shoulders, and she screamed. A muffled cry, her face buried in Dusty’s shoulder. Dusty’d never heard a sound like that before, part triumph, part surrender. She wanted to hear it endlessly.

*

Cam balanced her reader on her chest, advancing the pages with her thumb while Blair dozed beside her with her head pillowed against her shoulder. She kept her close as much for her own sake as Blair’s. The morning had been rough on Blair emotionally, and then standing by her father’s side while he’d given yet another speech and fielding more questions about their relationship had finally worn her down. Cam hadn’t been able to do anything except stand by, feeling alternately helpless and angry. She wasn’t looking forward to another year of the additional security risk, with Blair’s constant public exposure, or the toll the public scrutiny took on Blair. But it had to be done, and all she could do was give Blair a safe place to rest. She kissed her temple and settled her closer into the curve of her body.

Blair stirred, slid a hand under Cam’s shirt, and caressed her stomach. “I think I could sleep anywhere as long as you were next to me.”

“It’s a good thing. Because you’ll probably have to.”

Blair laughed softly. “Thanks for keeping me from falling off while I slept.”

Cam kissed her. “No problem.”

“I needed this.”

“Me too. I love you.”

“Mm, good.” Blair rubbed her cheek against Cam’s chest. “I think I’m hungry.”

“Feel like dinner?”

“Maybe my father and Lucinda are fre—”

Cam’s cell rang.

“Damn it,” Blair said.

“Sorry.”

Blair sat up. “It’s okay. Take it.”

Cam fished her cell out of her pocket and checked the readout. “It’s Renée.” She took the call. “Roberts.”

“I’ve got something for you, Director.”

“Go ahead.”

“You were right about Graves. It took some doing and calling in a lot of favors, but we got into the right database finally. No surprise, really. Army Special Forces. Black ops, Major Augustus Gary.”

“Background?” Cam’s focus crystallized, sharp and cold. Finally her quarry was in sight, and every predatory instinct kicked in. Until now she’d been chasing phantoms, but at last the mists were rising and she could see the fight ahead. One she welcomed.

“Just like you expected. Idaho native, career military until voluntary retirement eight years ago. A lot of his service record is redacted, and it will take some time to work through it, but we got the personnel file. His original enlistment forms are in there.”

“Children?”

“Three, two daughters and a son.”

“One unaccounted for,” Cam said softly, the burn of the hunt churning in her depths. “Find them.”

“No hits on any of the names.”

“I’m not surprised. If he’s black ops, chances are parts of his personnel file were modified.” Cam bit back her frustration. Stay on the trail, keep the prey in sight. “Work the timelines in reverse and search a five-year window on either side of the probable birth dates—court records, school registers, hospital and local police reports.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And, Renée, start vetting every single person on this train. Check every transcript, reference, and clearance report.”

“We’ll need more people.”

“I’ll make the calls. You’ll have more bodies within the hour.”

“We’ll find him,” Renée said.

“Good work. Keep me updated.”

“Roger that, Director.”

Cam disconnected and looked at Blair. “There’s a third.”

“I heard.”

“Dinner will have to wait. I need to talk to Tom Turner and Stark.”

“You think he’s here?”

“Probably not, but we can’t take that chance.” Cam pulled on trousers and a fresh shirt, slid her shoulder rig into place, and took a blazer off its hanger. Blair watched her with a closed, flat expression. “I can’t not do this.”

“I know. I’ll see you after the briefing.”

Cam kissed her. “I’ll leave it to them. If I can.”

Blair framed her face, kissing her back. “Just keep your head in the game. And find the bastard.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Off! Off, off, off,” Viv said.

Dusty sat up so quickly the room swirled. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything.” Viv grabbed the bottom of Dusty’s shirt and tugged on it. “I want you naked. Now. Off.”

Laughing, relief bursting like sunshine in a cloudy sky, Dusty yanked the shirt over her head and sent the top button careening across the floor. “I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Wrong? God. If you’d done anything more right I’d be comatose.” Viv trailed a finger down Dusty’s midsection. “Mm. Stay just like that. I want to look at you.”

Dusty knelt astride her, her stomach in knots. She wanted her hands on Viv again, wanted Viv’s hands in her. The press of her jeans between her thighs was torture. “Viv, I’m on the edge here.”

“Perfect. My turn.” Viv gripped her own sweater, arched her back, and lifted it over her head. Her breasts rose, firm and full.

Dusty groaned, her fingers aching.

“You like?” Viv asked softly.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dusty gasped. She cradled Viv’s breasts and rubbed her thumbs over the taut nipples. Her head threatened to explode, and she groaned again.

“Don’t…distract…me.” Viv drew an unsteady breath, covered Dusty’s hands, and gently pulled them away. Hurriedly, she unzipped her trousers, pushed them down, and kicked them away with one bare foot. Rearing up, she wrapped her arms around Dusty’s hips, gripped her butt, and pressed her mouth to Dusty’s stomach. “I knew you’d look like this. All hard and sleek and sexy.”