moments before an orgasm, when the brain and the body are screaming come on and let’s do this !
She felt Alex’s gaze on her and turned, giving him a little smile and a saucy wink, just like she always had.
“I’ve missed you, babe.”
Not enough to come after me , she thought, but she simply put out her fist. He touched his to hers—part of their pre-mission ritual—and said, “Ready to ride this river?”
“Yippe-ki-yea.”
Alex gave her a crooked smile and went back to his own rituals, which always included humming the Stones, much to her annoyance.
Nostalgia stung her for a second. Their pattern had been set after their first mission together. She had been untried in the field and he hadn’t wanted to take her, but the job had called for a female sidekick and she’d been the only one available.
When the job was over and her natural instincts and excellent reflexes had saved his ass, he’d told her she’d do to ride the river with. It was a phrase straight from his favorite movie genre—old westerns—and she had responded with a favorite movie quote of her own. It stuck.
With her blood already pumping and her skin tingling from the rush, Grace couldn’t help but wonder just how true to form this job would run. Would Alex seek her out when it was time to come down? She hadn’t been a nun for the last eight years, but it had been a long time. Way too long.
And nobody had ever rocked her world as completely as Alex Rossi had. As good as they were in the field together, their best work had always taken place in the bedroom. Or wherever else they happened to be.
He was watching her again now, and she wondered if he was remembering their incredible stress-busting sex as well, or if he was still questioning her ability to see this through.
She opened her mouth to ask him, but Gallagher beat her to the microphone. “Showtime.”
They were in the air within seconds, skimming along almost silently, just over the water. Grace did a final check of her gear—gun, harness, D-ring and rope—then stepped out onto the skid while Alex did the same on the other side.
Training. Planning. Balance. Above all, timing. The adrenaline settled into a steady beat through her veins, like bass reverberating through a cheaply-constructed apartment building. The Aussies knew how to do it right—face first, meeting the enemy head on with guns blazing.
There was a constant, low chatter on the headset as Gallagher and Carmen monitored the live feed. The angle was vital—they had to keep the toilet out of the line of fire. The hope was that if the orders to take Rossi alive were overridden by the survival instinct, they’d shoot high, aiming for the helicopter which wouldn’t be there but a few seconds.
Mere moments later, the visualization was over and the real thing began. Gallagher brought them in low and fast.
“Go!”
Grace stepped off the skid into the air, heard shouts and the short, controlled bursts of Alex’s gun while she counted off. One-one thousand…two-one thousand…three.
She lifted the hand controlling the rope, catching it in the D-ring and jerking to a stop. One-one thousand . Through the corner of her eye she saw Danny emerge from the outhouse, looking up.
Two-one thousand . She released, free-falling to the ground.
“Clear!” Alex shouted.
“ Mommy! ”
She hit the dirt running. The rope slid free of the D-ring and she swung her assault rifle back on its strap and scooped up her son. His arms and legs curled around her and she was moving again.
“Go five!” Alex said into her headpiece.
She pivoted to her five o’clock without breaking stride. There were more shouts…more shots. Too many. Shit. She was off-balance with Danny’s weight straining her shoulders, but she pushed forward.
“Building, two…go!”
She corrected to two o’clock and saw the door. “Hold on really tight, baby!”
As Danny strangled her, she reached down for the gun with
She felt Alex’s gaze on her and turned, giving him a little smile and a saucy wink, just like she always had.
“I’ve missed you, babe.”
Not enough to come after me , she thought, but she simply put out her fist. He touched his to hers—part of their pre-mission ritual—and said, “Ready to ride this river?”
“Yippe-ki-yea.”
Alex gave her a crooked smile and went back to his own rituals, which always included humming the Stones, much to her annoyance.
Nostalgia stung her for a second. Their pattern had been set after their first mission together. She had been untried in the field and he hadn’t wanted to take her, but the job had called for a female sidekick and she’d been the only one available.
When the job was over and her natural instincts and excellent reflexes had saved his ass, he’d told her she’d do to ride the river with. It was a phrase straight from his favorite movie genre—old westerns—and she had responded with a favorite movie quote of her own. It stuck.
With her blood already pumping and her skin tingling from the rush, Grace couldn’t help but wonder just how true to form this job would run. Would Alex seek her out when it was time to come down? She hadn’t been a nun for the last eight years, but it had been a long time. Way too long.
And nobody had ever rocked her world as completely as Alex Rossi had. As good as they were in the field together, their best work had always taken place in the bedroom. Or wherever else they happened to be.
He was watching her again now, and she wondered if he was remembering their incredible stress-busting sex as well, or if he was still questioning her ability to see this through.
She opened her mouth to ask him, but Gallagher beat her to the microphone. “Showtime.”
They were in the air within seconds, skimming along almost silently, just over the water. Grace did a final check of her gear—gun, harness, D-ring and rope—then stepped out onto the skid while Alex did the same on the other side.
Training. Planning. Balance. Above all, timing. The adrenaline settled into a steady beat through her veins, like bass reverberating through a cheaply-constructed apartment building. The Aussies knew how to do it right—face first, meeting the enemy head on with guns blazing.
There was a constant, low chatter on the headset as Gallagher and Carmen monitored the live feed. The angle was vital—they had to keep the toilet out of the line of fire. The hope was that if the orders to take Rossi alive were overridden by the survival instinct, they’d shoot high, aiming for the helicopter which wouldn’t be there but a few seconds.
Mere moments later, the visualization was over and the real thing began. Gallagher brought them in low and fast.
“Go!”
Grace stepped off the skid into the air, heard shouts and the short, controlled bursts of Alex’s gun while she counted off. One-one thousand…two-one thousand…three.
She lifted the hand controlling the rope, catching it in the D-ring and jerking to a stop. One-one thousand . Through the corner of her eye she saw Danny emerge from the outhouse, looking up.
Two-one thousand . She released, free-falling to the ground.
“Clear!” Alex shouted.
“ Mommy! ”
She hit the dirt running. The rope slid free of the D-ring and she swung her assault rifle back on its strap and scooped up her son. His arms and legs curled around her and she was moving again.
“Go five!” Alex said into her headpiece.
She pivoted to her five o’clock without breaking stride. There were more shouts…more shots. Too many. Shit. She was off-balance with Danny’s weight straining her shoulders, but she pushed forward.
“Building, two…go!”
She corrected to two o’clock and saw the door. “Hold on really tight, baby!”
As Danny strangled her, she reached down for the gun with
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