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  “It’s about time,” Delilah whispered as she put her hands on her hips.

  Brandon grabbed her hand, “Let’s get out of here.”

  Pulling her forward, they both jumped when the bathroom door slammed shut.

  “Come on!” Brandon ground out.

  “I’m trying! I’m caught on something,” Delilah looked back, her face panicked as they heard the scraping of the men’s chairs on the other side of the warehouse. They were lucky that it was pitch dark where they were, so the men couldn’t see them yet.

  “Let me see,” Brandon saw that her jean belt ring had caught on the bathroom handle and pulled the door closed as she stepped through. “Stop pulling.”

  “I’m not!”

  “You are!” In her panic she kept pulling against the fabric instead of backing up. Ripping the loop, Brandon pulled out his Beretta and whispered, “RUN!”

  Delilah pitched forward, almost tripping on the guy on the floor, but Brandon caught her. Sprinting across the room like a drunken gazelle, she was not the most graceful sight, but she made it across the room toward the door.

  Brandon pulled her behind a pile of the boxes as they waited for their attackers to come at them. The men had been shouting at them the whole time and had fired in their direction, however, once they made it behind the boxes, they stopped.

  “Why have they stopped firing at us?” Brandon mused.

  “Are you complaining?” Delilah asked incredulously. “I knew you were an adrenaline junkie, but geez!”

  “There has to be a reason. You watch them while I check.”

  “I have to admit, Call of Duty would be more exciting right about now.”

  Brandon turned to look at her, “Are you complaining now?”

  “They are advancing toward us,” Delilah told him as he focused on breaking one of the boards off the wooden crate. Inside was a shitload of explosives.

  “Ahhh… I get it now,” Brandon announced.

  “What?” Delilah looked over and saw what was inside. Her eyes went wide as her mouth dropped open. “Should we back away slowly?”

  “Not until I take care of them. You stay here.” Brandon began to stand when Delilah put a hand on his forearm. “What?”

  “Well, frack, I just have to do this,” she sighed, seeming resigned to some mysterious fate.

  Closing her eyes she leaned forward with a puckered mouth. At first, Brandon wasn’t sure what she was doing, but then as her mouth awkwardly pressed against his chin, he realized she was trying to kiss him. His heart pumped up a few notches, and despite the thugs waiting to take him down, he looped his arm with the gun around her waist and pulled her close. With his other hand, he gently took hold of her chin and aimed her mouth to his. He heard her intake of breath as their lips met and melded. What he hadn’t been expecting was the feeling of electricity coursing through his body. It felt like someone had taken a paddle to his chest and shocked him with all the amps they had. He longed for more, but the scuffle of feet nearby reminded him that they would have an audience in just a moment.

  Letting go, he looked at her, “I’ll be back.”

  Delilah put a hand to her forehead and pretended to swoon, almost making Brandon laugh.

  Standing up, he saw that the three goons were none too bright. They were standing near one of the other containers. He could hear them discussing amongst themselves where he and Delilah could have run off too. Brandon shook his head. It was a sad day when this was the caliber of bad guy he faced. There was a time when they were at least able to follow.

  Sliding up behind them, Brandon, punched one of them in the back of the head. The gangster next to him turned and Brandon gave him a roundhouse kick to the stomach pushing him into the next thug. Turning, he grabbed with one hand the man he had punched and brought his hand up under his head, pushing it back in an unnatural angle.

  The other two men were moaning, as they began to stand. One launched himself at Brandon with a punch, but Brandon grabbed that man’s arm, using his momentum to swing around and land a kick at the man who was coming at him with a gun.

  The man whose arm he held, then bore the brunt of Brandon’s repeated knee to the groin. As he dropped to the ground, Brandon chopped him in the neck with his hand, incapacitating him.

  The other man came from behind him and drew a wire around Brandon’s neck. Brandon bent forward and threw the thug over his body, making him release the wire. When he landed on the ground, Brandon stomped him between the legs with his foot and then kicked him in the head.

  Breathing hard, he rubbed his neck where it burnt from the cutting wire. The men’s bodies littered the floor around him. He always hated this moment. Causing others pain was not what he wanted to do in life, but when pressed, it was the only option. Unfortunately for Brandon, he seemed to have a knack for fighting, which had become his meal ticket throughout his life. Despite giving him trouble in his early years, it had also given him a purpose and eventually his career.

  Brandon came to attention when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning he saw that it was Delilah holding a folding chair like she was going to swing it. Her eyes and mouth were wide open.

  “Are you okay?” she breathily asked.

  “Fine,” Brandon croaked as he stroked his neck.

  “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast,” she said in awe.

  “Training. What are you doing with that chair?”

  Delilah looked down at it, almost as if she just remembered that she was holding it. “Oh. I was going to hit one of them over the head with it.”

  Brandon nodded, “Next time close it first.”

  “Huh?”

  “Close the chair. Then it won’t pinch your fingers then if it closes as you strike.”

  “Ahh,” she nodded in understanding as she seemed embarrassed as she put the chair down.

  Brandon moved next to her and took her arm to lead her out of the warehouse. “We better go. More of these guys may show up.”

  “I think I wet myself,” he heard her whisper.

  “What? Do you need to use the bathroom?” he grabbed her holding her still, looking down at her jeans.

  He could just make out her blush in the dim light. “Did I say that aloud?” Delilah let out a nervous giggle. He could tell that her nervous mouth was about to get going. “I didn’t mean wet my pants like that. I just found that very hot, even though I know you don’t see me like that. I found you very hot. Which I’m not sure I’m okay with, because as a modern woman I should deplore violence and men being all barbaric, but it was strangely satisfying and hot,” she shrugged at the last word. Her big blue eyes then looked up at his, begging him, “Please make me stop talking.”

  “I’ve never been one to disappoint a lady.” Swooping down he pressed his lips to hers. Immediately her mouth opened and they both moaned. She tasted sweet, like raspberries. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and teased hers with the tip of his. She giggled a bit, which made him smile. It was the most sensual moment of his life and all they had done was kiss.

  Pushing his lips closer to hers, he gave into the desperation that he had felt for all those years. Being so close to her and not being able to touch her had worn him down, made him uncontrollable in ways that he was only beginning to understand. He began dominating her mouth, while her nails clawed into his arms. She rose up on her toes and pressed her soft breasts to his chest, letting him know that she returned his pent-up desire.

  “Brandon! Brandon Are you okay?” a female voice called out to him.

  Brandon pushed the voice away until it started letting out a healthy stream of profanity that would make the most seasoned sailor blush.

  “I’m calling in the medics. Oh God! I can hear you breathing deeply. Did he cut your windpipe? No! Don’t talk if it hurts too much!” Olivia sounded panicked over his wireless device. Delilah must have punched it on and off with the press of her body against his.

  Brandon reluctantly pulled back from Delilah an
d pressed his ear piece further into his ear. “I’m fine, Olivia. Get a team down here to deal with the mess. Call Rebecca and have her meet us at the safe house.”

  Looking down at Delilah he knew that he had done something wrong. He just wasn’t sure what.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Delilah

  Delilah pulled away from Brandon, hardly able to stand his touch. After the scorching kiss they had shared, he called his girlfriend and told her to bring another woman to meet them at a safe house. Delilah felt the tears prick her eyes. Once again, she was the convenient body. It reminded her of high school all over again when Tommy Chandler had been dared to seduce her. Luckily, Brandon had caught wind of the scheme in the locker room and set Tommy straight… in the locker.

  Pulling away she saw the hurt look on Brandon’s face and felt a little happy that she had put it there. Good! Let him hurt like he’s hurt me! That was the hottest kiss of my life and he treated it like nothing. Bastard!

  Stomping her way to the car, she couldn’t help but have a strange feeling overcome her. Minutes ago they were fighting for their lives, then they kissed, and now they were walking to a car like angry strangers.

  “What?” She heard Brandon demand, his voice tinged with concern.

  Shaking her head, her anger, embarrassment, and disappointment consumed her to a point that she couldn’t even formulate words. The only things she could hear were the pounding in her head and the sirens in the distance.

  Brandon then suddenly grabbed her arm. The police cars made their way into the enclosure, momentarily pulling his attention away from her. She pulled her arm away and angrily let herself in to the car. Crossing her arms, she fumed as he spoke to the police.

  About five minutes later, he joined her in the car. Without looking at her, he turned it on and informed her, “The CIA will be taking the investigation over, so no need to talk to the police.”

  “Fine,” she huffed as he pulled the car onto the gravel road leading past the warehouses to go out the metal fence that enclosed all of them.

  “What are you mad about?” he asked her. She looked over to see that Brandon was holding the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers were turning white.

  “You don’t know?” The high-pitched, crazy tone of her voice made her cringe.

  “No, so tell me.” He demanded through clenched teeth.

  She turned her body to face his, “Fine! We are kissing and you pull away from me to tell your girlfriend to bring another woman to meet us at a safe house. I am not doing a foursome with you, Brandon Ryker! I don’t care if you saved my life being some sort of sexy secret spy with your Judo chops, but that is beyond my kinky meter!”

  At her last words, Brandon stomped on the brakes, making her body slide forward on the leather seat. He breathed in through his nose and let the air out through his mouth, reminding her of a dragon. She began to worry that she may have poked the wrong beast.

  Without a word, he turned the car and pulled between two of the vacant warehouses. Instinctually, Delilah knew that he would never hurt her, but at the same time, she felt a twinge of fear. After all, the man had just taken out four giants with just his hands and feet. Earlier she had deemed that impossible. Obviously she had been proven wrong for the millionth time that day.

  Stopping the car at the edge of the island between the buildings they silently stewed looking out at the lights of San Francisco across the way. The lights of the Trans-America building twinkled and the little houses on the hills looked like lanterns placed atop the hills. The water between them and the city looked black, only heightening the sparkle of the lights. The Bay Bridge and Golden Gate in the distance looked graceful as they reached across the sleepy bay to the lively city. It really was the perfect make-out spot for some teens. Romantic, in a way, secluded, closed off from the world.

  After a few breaths, Brandon turned to her. She could feel the waves of hurt and anger roll off him. His brown eyes bore into her, making her feel like he scarred her soul with their intensity. “Let’s get this clear, Delilah. Olivia is my handler.”

  “She gives you hand jobs? Why are you telling me this?” Delilah was shocked. She threw her hands up to cover her ears, not wanting to hear more.

  “NO!” his voice boomed through the little sports car. “In the CIA, agents have people who are like coaches on the other line while they are on missions. She helps me by letting me know what is ahead and informs me of anything she sees through drones, or heat signatures, etcetera. We have not, nor will we ever be involved.”

  “Okayyyy,” Delilah played with the end of her shirt, unsure what to do with her hands. She kept her eyes looking out on the incredible San Francisco skyline, but not really seeing it. Her complete attention was focused on the sexy man next to her, she was just afraid to look at him and let him see the vulnerability in her eyes.

  “Rebecca Saxon is the head Secret Service agent for the San Francisco Bay Area. I need her to meet with us so I can tell her what we learned. She has already has sent out agents to meet with the other CIA agents heading to the warehouse to take over the investigation, but we need to tell her what we know.”

  “Okay.” Delilah hated her lame responses but couldn’t think of anything more to say.

  He then surprised her. He then moved toward her and in a quiet voice he gently murmured, “That kiss was the hottest moment of my life. You know why I can’t be involved with anyone else?”

  She shook her head, not trusting her voice to put into words what she was beginning to understand. This secret agent had stealthily taken her heart and she had a feeling that she may own his as well. The thought was enough to take her breath away, but she knew that he really meant that he couldn’t be involved due to his work. It had always come first and he had never hinted that he would change his life for anyone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brandon

  As Brandon looked into Delilah’s confused eyes, he felt like he’d had had the wrong purpose for most of his life. He had focused on making himself good enough to one day claim her, but he had missed out on so much. His missions took him all over the world, doing things that people only thought happened in the movies. It was exciting, but also lonely. Especially lonely as he found himself longing for a family of his own. Delilah had always been home to him. She was the one adopted family member that he could count on. Looking at her made his gut twist as he felt that he had missed too much time. Her reaction alone told him that he was losing her trust. He needed to find a way to prove to her that he was there for her. Always.

  Brushing his hand against her soft cheek, he was ready to take the next step. He just hoped he didn’t blow it. Before he met her, he had been known as a ladies man. Since meeting her, he hadn’t touched anyone. No one else had equaled her in anyway. To say that he felt rusty at this whole seduction thing was an understatement. His nerves made him feel sicker than when he had dealt with those thugs just a few minutes ago. He knew that these next few minutes would be defining moments for the rest of his life. If he blew it, he would be alone forever.

  “Delish, I know that I haven’t been around much these past few years.” He reached out and took her hand, realizing that the most romantic moment of his life was about to take place in the cabin of his Aston Martin. The least he could do was offer his girl, or so he hoped, a more memorable setting. Looking out at the cityscape an idea popped in his head. “Come with me out to the beach and talk for a minute. We have some time before Olivia and Rebecca get to the house.”

  Squeezing his hand, she gave him a pensive look. The fact that she hadn’t run after everything that had transpired was a miracle in itself. Grabbing her hand again after they made it around the hood of the car, he led her down to the small beach. It wasn’t a particularly cold evening, which made it nice. Since the warehouses were on this side of the beach, there were no other people enjoying the fresh air.

  As they hit the edge of the sand, Delilah took off her Darth Vader Keds and held them
in her other hand. She stood at the ledge of the sandy cliff that dropped about three feet down to the main part of the beach. Brandon jumped down and held out his hand to her. Delilah was about to take his hand when the sand below her feet gave way and she found herself ungracefully falling to the beach below.

  “Ahhh!” She called out as she felt the sand pouring over her legs and making its way into her shoes. Once her rear hit the sand, she pushed her hair out of her face. She looked up and Brandon was further embarrassed by his reaction. He was almost doubled over with laughter. Picking up some sand, she threw it at him, “Some gentleman you are! I thought secret agents were supposed to be chivalrous!”

  Brandon laughed as he knelt next to her, placing his hand on her knee. “Are you okay, Delish? That was hilarious!”

  “I’m fine. Only my butt and pride hurts. Who knew sand could be so hard?”

  “I know you didn’t mean to do that, but thanks. I needed something to take my mind off everything that just happened. You always cheer me up,” he gave her a smile. In the moonlight she looked like some otherworldly dream created by the moonbeams; not his best friend in the world.

  “Glad to know I’m good for something,” she mumbled as her fingers combed through the sand.

  He took her hand and assisted her up, then he led her to a clean patch of sand. “I never forgot how you love the sand, Delish.” He gave her sandy bum and grainy socks a look, “Well, maybe not to be covered in it. But, I can remember the senior trip to Santa Cruz. You must have spent hours making that sand castle.”

  Delilah let out a little laugh at the memory, which made the nerves twisting his gut unravel a little, “Yeah. Until Joey Samuels destroyed it.” She then turned and looked at him, as if she was studying him in a new light. “You know, I never thought much about it before, but he had a broken arm the next week. Did you have something to do with that?”