Mine to Have (Mine 5)

“We should be careful,” she whispered, “We should—”

His lips took hers, and he wasn’t careful. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t controlled. He had the one thing he wanted most, and he wasn’t about to let go.

Or waste a moment being careful.

He tumbled her back on the bed. Caught her hands in one of his and pinned them above her head. Then his free hand went down and pushed up her skirt. All day, he’d known that she wasn’t wearing panties. Those torn panties had been safely secured in his drawer, and she’d been bare.

He touched her silken flesh now. Pushed his fingers into her sex even as he kissed her. She was wet for him. Wet and ready and there was no going back for him.

“Don’t move,” Saxon ordered her.

Her breath seemed to catch.

He lifted up, and he didn’t bother unbuttoning her shirt—he just yanked it open. Buttons flew, and he didn’t care. He’d buy her another blouse, maybe one that matched her ripped panties. An emerald color to go with her eyes? Buy her anything. Everything.

The sexy black bra she wore was pure temptation. It lifted her breasts up toward him, an offering that he’d never refuse. He kissed her through that lace, then he shoved the bra out of his way and took her nipple into his mouth.

“Saxon!”

He sucked her harder. Scored her with his teeth.

And he parted her legs. He positioned his cock at the entrance of her body. She was so incredibly soft and hot and when he thrust into her, Saxon nearly lost his mind.

He angled his body down, making sure that every thrust of his hips pushed him against her clit. She moaned for him and twisted beneath him. Saxon licked her other breast. Her nipple was tight and hard. So very perfect.

He withdrew. Thrust deeper.

He had her underneath him in that four-poster bed. He was in her so deep and her sex was a tight glove. She was whispering his name, her nails were digging in his back.

There were no fears. No hesitations. No questions.

Just a white-hot desire that burned right through everything else.

She came for him. He felt the ripples of her release all around his cock even as she arched up against him and gasped out his name.

Then he let go. He drove into her again and again. The bed thudded into the wall, the frame seemed to shake beneath them, and he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck about anything—

But, well, fucking her.

Deeper, harder. The desire consumed him. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t slow down. He could only feel her and when the climax hit him, Saxon was lost. The pleasure beat through him, so powerful and consuming that nothing else mattered. He held on to her as tightly as he could.

And when the pleasure finally ebbed, when the aftershocks stopped running through their bodies, he finished stripping. He tucked her under the covers and then slid in the bed beside her.

He’d slept in countless hotels, dozens of apartments, hell, he’d even slept on the street—both before and during his undercover days.

But as his eyes drifted closed right then, as Elizabeth curled her body around his, this time—this bed—this place—it was the first time that he’d ever felt as if he were sleeping…at home.

***

Victor had spent years cultivating contacts—some on the right side of the law and some on the wrong. So when he needed intel on a dead prisoner, he got that intel. And when he needed to learn more about a missing woman…he had full access to her records.

So just hours after he left the prison, he knew that Zoe Peters was a twenty-seven-year-old, ex-Vegas showgirl who’d packed up all her belongings and moved to a little town in South Carolina—a place called Bluff. Only a few weeks after moving to the town, she’d vanished.

And a day later, well, that was the day that Titus Rowe had been killed by Luther Bates. Shanked in the shower—not a particularly glamorous way to go, but one that had surely involved plenty of gore. From all accounts, Luther had nearly severed the man’s head.

For Luther to make such a personal move, to kill with plenty of witnesses around—well, obviously, he’d wanted to send a message.

A message that was linked to Rowe?

Because, once upon a time, Rowe and Luther Bates had worked together. Rowe set up a few explosions for Luther. Rowe had a dark and dangerous skill when it came to bomb-making, and, apparently, he’d been all too eager to make buildings explode for the right money.

Victor’s detective work had revealed that Rowe had one child, a son who owned property just outside of Charleston, South Carolina. Now, as fate would have it, Charleston and Bluff were only two hours away from each other.

Coincidence?

Hell, no. Victor sure didn’t think so.

And that was why he was currently headed to Charleston…hopefully to find Rowe’s son Hugh and to recover the missing show girl.

Then maybe, finally, he could get some fucking peace. I’ll have peace, once that hit is off Elizabeth’s head.

***

Gary Warren sat hunched in the interrogation room chair. He still hurt, dammit, and he could sure have used more drugs from those docs. But instead of getting some sweet oblivion from pain meds, they had him stuck in this place. Those bastards were just keeping him waiting. He’d demanded to see Victor so long ago—hours ago! And the prick hadn’t shown. This shit wasn’t going to work for him.

And neither is jail. I can’t spend my days locked in solitaire. And I sure as hell don’t plan to be in general population.

So Victor needed to get his sorry ass in there and start working a deal.

The door opened.

Gary looked up, glaring. “Finally!” he snarled.

Tracy smiled at him.

He stiffened. “Where’s Victor?”

Tracy shut the door. Leaned back against it. “He didn’t tell me where he was going. The guy just left me at a prison and took off for who the hell knows where.” She shook her head. “You know Victor. He’s not exactly the sharing type. Not so trusting, you know.” One eyebrow lifted. “Probably because guys like you keep betraying him.”

Now that Tracy was there, he figured folks must be in the next room, too, watching through that one-way mirror on the wall to the left. He leaned back in the chair and kept his eyes on her.

Tracy didn’t move from the door. “Don’t you want to know who he was visiting at that prison? After all, that is the job he felt was more important. He didn’t come rushing back to see you. I’m the one who flew back down. He was more concerned with what the inmate up there had told him.”

His fingers drummed on the table. Tracy wouldn’t have the pull to get him a deal. The woman was pretty, a nice piece of ass, and smart. He’d admired her while they worked together. But she didn’t have power right now. I still have power. Power he intended to leverage. If the FBI wanted him to talk, then they’d better get ready to deal.

“He was there to see Luther Bates.”

Gary tensed. Yeah, he’d admit it, he was still afraid of Luther…even though the guy was in prison.

“Bates killed a man recently. Took out another inmate in the shower.” She shrugged. “So much for his chance at parole.”

Gary had to laugh. “You know better than that.” The right money could make any witness disappear and witnesses in prison were particularly expendable.

Her gaze slid toward the mirror on the left. The one-way mirror. “I went into the prison and talked to Bates, too.”

Sweat slickened his palms so he flattened them on the table. “Did you now?” He knew better than to show any fear.

“He told me…that you were a dead man.”

Not yet.

She walked toward him. He saw that she had her weapon holstered on her hip. His gaze rose from that weapon back up to her face.

“You’re going to leave solitaire when you go back to the prison,” Tracy said softly. “You…know that, right? It’s general population time for you. And Bates will have someo

ne waiting there to take you out. Because you didn’t do your job. Not two years ago, and not now.”

“I’m not that easy to eliminate.” Shit, he needed Vic there. So he’d shot up Saxon, what was the big fucking deal? Saxon was expendable—just muscle they used to infiltrate gangs.

Disposable.

She was near the table. Staring down at him.

“Victor thinks he can get the hit called off Elizabeth Ward. He worked out some kind of deal with Bates—Bates is actually going to back off, provided Victor carries things through.”

No. Shit, no. Bates was supposed to have his back. He’d risked everything for that bastard. Risked it all…for the payout that wouldn’t be coming.

His laughter was bitter. “She didn’t remember me, did she?”

Tracy’s expression didn’t alter.

“I was so worried Elizabeth Ward would remember meeting me, but she didn’t.” His brows lifted as he gazed up at Tracy. “I went to her parents’ house, I talked to her. That was the way I handled things back then. I got the lay of the land by pretending to be from a security firm.”

Now Tracy was the one to laugh. “That was two years ago! Are you seriously telling me you thought a witness would remember your face from that long ago?” She shook her head. “You know most witnesses can’t ever remember shit.”

No, most couldn’t. Five minutes after they’d met someone, they forgot the person’s face. But there were certain people who were more observant, who actually did recall—

“How much were you being paid? Because I don’t buy this crap about you going after her because you thought she might remember a five minute meeting from two freaking years ago.”

Ah, Tracy. She was always rather good at cutting to the heart of the matter. “When the three Wards are dead, Bates will pay the million dollar bounty.”

Understanding lit her gaze. “It was an all or nothing deal, huh? Guess you got screwed on it.”

“If Victor and Saxon hadn’t fought to keep her alive—” He broke off. If those two jerks hadn’t been in his way, Elizabeth would be dead. And he’d be rich.

“You made a mistake,” Tracy said softly as she leaned toward him. “You thought you could take down Victor and Saxon, but you weren’t strong enough to handle them. And now that Victor talked to Bates, I’m sure he’s learned plenty about you.”