Page 10

Five and a half years ago: Minnesota …

Missy gave an appreciative sigh as she watched Cobble work.

She was trying to come to grips with her conflicted emotions. On one hand, she was over-the-moon happy that she and Cobble had gone back to being good friends, especially after their long debacle regarding her undercover work in South Sudan. It had taken years of dangerous digging for her to discover the rotten CIA agent who’d been helping El-Umar, but it was finally done. IO Veegal had been arrested and extradited back to the US. Except for the trial, which would be happening in a few months, that part of the operation was over.

On the other hand, Andy was frustrated as all hell, waiting and wondering if she’d ever have the courage to make a move and bring her relationship with Cobble to where she wanted it; the next level.

Sexual tension ?

Duh.

She felt it more and more each time they were together; each time they bumped elbows, with every look and every shared laugh.

When she was safely back at her desk in her FBI office—where she was now purportedly an agent for the bureau, but in reality was working there trying to uncover the bad-guys while still employed by the DOJ—Missy could never get Cobble off her mind. During her bi-monthly visits, he’d become a major fixation, and it was driving her nuts.

Surely, he had to feel…something? Her attraction to him was so strong, it couldn’t just be one-sided.

Missy salivated over the honed muscles of Cobble’s back as he hand-cleared a piece of land her father had designated for the next bunker.

She was helping. Or she had been. But after he’d stripped off his shirt as the heat ramped up with the day, Missy found she had a hard time focusing on the brush she was supposed to move.

Dammit-all.

When her professional hat was firmly on her head, she never hesitated to take care of business, bust heads, or piss someone off by saying what was on her mind. Why then, was she so chicken-shit where Cobble was concerned? They’d had a long, easy comradery that should simply slip naturally into…at least some form of canoodling.

But that hadn’t happened.

Frustratingly, there had yet to be a single kiss.

WTF was up with that?

“What do you want to do for lunch?” Cobble called over, not knowing where her mind had gone. He’d chopped through another three-inch tree trunk like it was paper, laying it aside and heading to his next target.

Yeah. That feat of magic was partly because her father kept his tools razor-honed, but mostly because of Cobble’s muscle.

Missy hid a sigh. “Oh, I don’t know. My mother said she left a few things in the fridge that we’re welcome to.” Eleni had grabbed a flight to New York the previous night to visit her sister for ten days. “Or, we could put you in a hat and sunglasses, go into town, and get heros.”

“You mean, subs,” Cobble corrected with a grin as he stood up from his next task to face her, stretching out his muscles.

Damn. Was there drool coming out of her mouth? Because that chest. Whoo, boy. It was magnificent.

“Whatevah.” She gave him sass in her Brooklyn accent to mitigate her lust. “Youze New Englanders have some dopey-ass words.”

“And you don’t?” he raised a brow, teasing.

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” Missy sent back, snickering. “Hero, sub, or…wait. Maybe I’m up for a pie,” she interjected mischievously.

“ Pizza would be fine with me,” Cobble responded without blinking. Yeah. He’d been around her long enough to know her New York-isms. “But I think we’d make better use of our time if we just hit whatever’s in the fridge. We still have a lot of work to do here.”

“Agreed,” Missy said, bending down for more brush. And it really was safer to keep Cobble on the property. Every time they went out, even locally to get seed or building supplies, Missy held her breath, wondering if anyone would be snooping around and recognize him.

Director Baskins and DAAG Cavateral, along with Chuck, were now fully informed of Cobble’s whereabouts, and so far, even with those three aware of his location, Cobble had remained safe. They’d managed to keep the information completely secret, but Missy still didn’t want to let her guard down. Sneaky was an agent’s middle name, and relentlessness was part of their make-up. She was under no illusions that the rotten eggs in the DOJ and FBI had given up. She knew they were still digging, because every time she uncovered a new piece of intel, the threats on her life ramped up. Someone was determined to get her to break and admit she still had hands on Cobble’s location.

Yeah. The intimidation had become relentless, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone about it.

“How about another half hour before we break?” Cobble asked. “I’d like to get the majority of these small trees cut down.”

“I still have plenty to do over here, so yes,” Missy responded.

They worked companionably and in silence for another fifteen minutes. Missy attacked a particularly dense thicket, when…

“Shit!” She flew backward with a shriek, batting at the air all around her, then at her body.

“What’s happening?” Cobble barked in reply, heading her way at a dead run.

“Hornets,” she yelped. “Ouch! Inside my shirt.” She’d disturbed their nest, and the little suckers had gone under the material of her T when she’d bent over.

She beat at her front as they stung her a few more times.

Cobble didn’t hesitate. He reached for Missy’s shirt, took ahold of the hem, and ripped it off right over her head. He tossed it away, then brushed at the bees still clinging to her abdomen, scraping them to the ground.

“Allergies?” he asked breathlessly, turning Missy around to make sure there were none on her back.

“Nope,” she told him over her shoulder. “I’ve been stung a bunch while working this property.” She dragged in a deep breath and reassured him. “I’m okay now. Thanks. I’m just glad this was a small nest. The last one I disrupted when I was home for a summer during college was huge, and I was covered in stings. But I’m one of the lucky ones,” she snorted. “I don’t have much of a reaction,” she added breathlessly; not short on oxygen because of what had just happened, but because Cobble was drawing light circles on her back with one of his callused fingers. “Uh, no swelling or anything,” she continued stupidly.

Except in all my lady parts because you’re touching me .

Cobble blew a gust of air from between his lips, then laughed tightly. “You had me in a panic,” he admitted, turning her back around to peruse her bared belly and ribs for more interlopers while lightly gripping her arms. “I thought for sure we’d be headed to the hospital.”

Were his eyes suddenly roaming her chest because he was worried, or…did he like what he was seeing. Missy hoped it was the latter. Her breasts, encased in a blue sports bra, weren’t the biggest by any means, but they were well-formed and perky, if she did say so herself.

Missy bit her lip.

If she was going to make a move, it was now or never. The timing and setting weren’t exactly what she would have chosen, but…

She took another deep breath, inflated her chest to make her boobs more prominent, then rubbed them lightly against his sweat covered ribcage while blinking up at him.

Could Cobble ignore that?

The tops of his ears turned red.

Bingo!

“You’re, uh, okay now?” he asked, not letting go of her, but continuing to stare, swallow, and stare some more.

If she wasn’t mistaken, the tip of his tongue came out and swiped across his lower lip.

Okay. Now what ?

Missy wasn’t feeling a single sting because all her attention was focused on the hot man touching her, her aching nipples, and her dampening pussy.

Go for it, knucklehead , she told herself. You may never get a better opportunity .

“I… I think one or two of the little suckers might still be in my bra,” she told him, her voice raspy with need.

She watched his Adam’s Apple bob up and down convulsively.

“You, uh, think I should…check?” He actually stumbled over his words.

“Only if you want to,” Missy managed huskily, letting him know that she was all in, but if he was hesitant, she wouldn’t force the issue. “They’re probably dead.”

“Dead,” he repeated blankly, as if he’d lost his train of thought.

“Yeah. The bees. In my bra. They’re not stinging anymore. But…”

He swallowed again. “But I should probably check.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a solemn nod.

Gently, ever so gently, Cobble’s hands traveled up her arms to her shoulders, where he hooked his fingers under both straps and eased them down. His hands moved to her back, warm and questing, looking for…

“There’s no clasp,” she told him, her voice shaking with need. “It…peels off.”

Cobble hesitated for a moment, his gaze lowering to the crests of her breasts where they heaved. “Up or down?” he was able to ask.

“Up.” Missy raised her arms and looked at Cobble, putting every ounce of the want she was feeling into her eyes. If Cobble didn’t get it now…

He groaned, but instead of peeling the spandex away like she’d imagined, he lowered his head and licked across the top of her breasts. Before she could so much as hiss gloriously at the unexpected move, he dropped further and bit one prominent nipple right through her bra.

Missy moaned.

“Okay?” Cobble lifted his head, and what she saw in his eyes was what she’d wanted to see for a very long time; lust, mixed with awe.

“More than okay.”

Missy wasn’t going to waste a second of time or give Cobble a chance to back out. She stepped away from him, reached down and whipped the bra over her head.

“Andy,” he grated, looking his fill before raising both hands in her direction.

She leaned forward until her needy flesh met his palms and they both groaned.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asked with a certain reverence in his tone.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to?” she countered, leaning into his touch while staring at his lips.

How many times had she fantasized about what his hands would feel like, what his mouth would be like on hers?

Cobble took his cue. Slowly, while continuing to worship her breasts with light squeezes, he lowered, and lowered, and lowered, until…

Lip contact. Pure bliss.

The man’s mouth was electric. Dominant. Once he made up his mind, there was no hesitation. He captured her lips, her tongue. He ground down.

He owned her.

Missy grunted unhappily into his mouth as he moved his hands away, but gave an appreciative whimper when his palms cupped her ass instead. He lifted her closer. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck, keeping the connection their mouths were enjoying, relishing in finally finding out what Cobble tasted like; all sunshine and minty-man.

She couldn’t wait for more.

“House?” she eventually managed, dragging her lips from his.

“Your family?” he countered, peppering her face with kisses.

“Mom’s gone, and the rest of them are at work,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but…” His nose went to her ear and she almost melted into a puddle as he nuzzled.

Missy got it. Her family’s hours were sporadic. They could show up at any time, and that would be an unwelcome dose of cold water.

“They could come back, so I have an idea,” she said impishly, struggling to get her feet on the ground.

Cobble let her ass go, reluctantly, then when she took his hand and tugged him toward a clearing—up the hill from where they’d been working—he looked confused for a moment until…

Cobble let out a triumphant laugh. “Bunker A,” he stated with relish.

Missy grinned. “Yup. It has beds, running water, and…condoms,” she sent back over her shoulder as they tripped up the path with their discarded shirts in hand.

By the time they arrived at the underground hideaway, the two were giggling like naughty children.

Cobble stopped dead, a few feet away from the semi-hidden structure, struggling to control his laughter. His hands continually caressed her body. Now that the floodgates had opened, clearly he couldn’t get enough. “You have the key?” he questioned.

Her father kept all three bunkers locked in case squatters thought to try and use them for shelter.

“Nope, but I know where one’s hidden,” she told Cobble. She headed to the metal chimney stack that stuck up out of the ground.

Yeah. In case of an emergency situation, if one of the family forgot to bring a key, it would suck to be locked out.

Missy dug around between several bricks, and came up with the hidden ring. She danced it back to Cobble, uncaring that her breasts were still bare. Mostly because of the way he was looking at them, like they were ice cream on a hot day, needing to be licked.

Missy clenched her thighs together. It wouldn’t be right to spontaneously orgasm before they’d even gotten to the good stuff.

Cobble’s fingers shook as he put the key in the lock, but as soon as they got inside, turned on the lights, and closed the door behind them, he lost any nervousness that might have assailed him. He began kissing her again as they tore at each other’s jeans.

Already having their shirts off was turning out to be a great time-saver.

When Missy finally had Cobble’s zipper down, she was about to reach inside his briefs and grab his cock, when she gasped and moaned. Cobble, being faster, had already found her clit, and gathering up moisture from her pussy, was rounding it in firm circles.

“My knees are about to give out,” Missy groaned.

“Then let’s take this to horizontal,” Cobble growled.

Without withdrawing his touch, he lifted her easily with his free arm, and walked the ten steps toward the first cot where he laid her down. He moved over her and propped himself up on an elbow so as not to squish her.

While he’d been busy, Missy had finally managed to get her hand inside Cobble’s briefs, where she wrapped her fingers securely around his very large, extremely velvety cock.

He hissed.

His penis wept.

Missy sighed.

There’d be no coming back from this. Even if they didn’t fuck—which they damned well were going to do—she was already his, and he was hers.