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Ripper (Tortured Heroes Book 5) Page 5


  “Where’s that one set of… oh.”

  She was asking and answering her own questions. I leaned on the heat register in her room and just let her buzz about.

  She noticed I hadn’t answered her declarations. Nothing she said was going to change the way I operated this mission.

  She stood in front of me with a fresh bra and panties on. I knew she was talking, but I couldn’t really process that.

  “I am not going to have you hovering over me and making me look weak in front of these fighters. I’ve spent my whole career proving I was tough. I don’t need a bodyguard making me look like a victim.”

  I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in close. She was up against me, half naked, pissed off, and trying to tell me what to do. It was hot as hell.

  I leaned and whispered into her ear.

  “You’re not going anywhere without me. Period. I will let you do your work, but I must see you. At. All. Times. This isn’t a request.”

  She looked at me with a challenge in her eyes and I saw the muscle of her jaw clench.

  “Now kiss me.”

  Those eyes flew open a bit wider as I slid my hand inside the band that stretched over her hip bone and held those little panties on.

  “That is a request,” I said. She was her own woman and I wouldn’t forget that.

  Sam leaned in and put her lips on mine. I slid my hand over her ass and the panties, tiny to begin with, slid down her hips. I lifted her and swiftly had her on the bed. I had her naked in seconds and was inside her.

  I had planned to be all business today. I had thought I could stop the wanting, but I was wrong. I was going to have her over and over again as long as she’d let me.

  And she let me. I felt her legs hold tight to mine. She pulled me close as I penetrated deeper than I had even the night before.

  She cried out as we both got lost in the way we felt together.

  This was like a drug, being inside her, smelling her, listening to her, and knowing that I could feel this insanely good with another human.

  It only lasted a few minutes, but it was so fucking good. Touching her was an accelerant to being with her. I needed to remember that. My control with her was a joke. She was in control of me and she didn’t know it. She whispered it in my ear. Her lips curled into a smile as we both tried to get calm after the intensity of the last few moments.

  “Jesus, Duvall, I’m going to have to buy more panties. I sure as hell better sign this fighter if I’m going to go through undergarments at this pace.” We rolled over and she got up. I couldn’t help but stare at the body that had me out of my mind.

  “Or skip em,” I said and I smacked her on her adorable little ass. She squealed and headed to the bathroom to redo what I’d undone.

  I had no doubt I was going to piss her off again and she was going to try to defy my security measures. I had to put aside what had just happened and get my head back into the case. As Sam resumed her preparations for work, I called the office. I rubbed my face with my hand in an attempt to get my Special Agent head back in the right place to protect her and to find the bad guys.

  “Duvall here, any updates?”

  The office let me know that everything was in process, but that we didn’t have any new data. My orders stood.

  I was to stick to Sam Bosque like glue and be sure that this sicko who was targeting her would be frustrated into making a mistake.

  Force a mistake from The Vegas Ripper and at the same time be very mindful that I could easily make just as deadly a mistake thanks to my heart now being totally wrapped up in this woman.

  Chapter Nine

  Sam

  I showered for the millionth time. Every time Kyle and I got close enough to touch we did and that led to the mind-blowing sex. Every time. I replayed it in my mind, it was on a loop, and better than thinking about why Kyle was in my life.

  The idea of having him near me at all times gave me a thrill that had me blushing. Until I realized what exactly that meant. He was going to be my shadow at work.

  “I think you should wait here in your car. I have to go in, check on my stuff, and then we’ll hit the MMA gym I want to visit.”

  “You’re too smart to be this dense. I’ll be at your side.” He didn’t say anything else, and apparently, that was that.

  I kept looking at him as we took the elevator up.

  “Just pretend I’m not here.”

  “After the night we had? Kind of impossible.” The floor numbers lit up.

  “I’ve seen you naked. Should make you feel totally comfortable.”

  “Right. Totally.” I blushed at the memory of him taking off my panties earlier. I brushed it away and strode out of the elevator like I was Queen of All I Surveyed. I couldn’t have him throw me off my game. My career was at an important point and he wasn’t going to make me look weak, dammit.

  I entered the office and was greeted by a new face.

  “Hello. Welcome to Arm Up. Can I help you?”

  “Hi, I’m Sam.” The woman extended a hand. She was pretty. Shit. That was going to be bad for Jerry’s ability to keep it in his pants. I worried that this secretary wouldn’t last long.

  “I’m Debbie Sanders.”

  “Debbie, nice to meet you. Welcome. I’ll need you to come in my office in about ten minutes so I can talk about some of the things you’ll be doing.”

  “Sure, but Mr. Moore’s already done a lot of that. I’m excited to get started.”

  “Ten minutes.” I felt Duvall behind me as I walked at a fast clip to Jerry’s office.

  “Jerry. She’s started already? You’ve given her a job description?”

  “Hello. Good Morning,” he said and looked beyond me to the hulk of a man who stood at the door like a bouncer at a hot club.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Jerry!” Jerry addressed that to Kyle, and under his breath, to me, he said, “Huge, heavyweight for sure, scary, but isn’t he a tad old?”

  “He’s not a new fighter. He’s uh.” I really didn’t know how to introduce him. Was he undercover?

  “Special Agent Kyle Duvall. I’m handling Sam’s security for a while during an FBI investigation.”

  “Whoa. What’d you do, Bosque?” Jerry’s humor got cheesier and cheesier when he was nervous.

  “I didn’t do anything. I’ve got a stalker or something. Don’t worry about it.” I could see my work dealings get sidetracked by this Duvall situation and it was pissing me off.

  “Are you okay?” Jerry had a look of genuine concern.

  “I’m fine.”

  “This has got to be serious if they sent the FBI.”

  “I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s a precaution. I want to talk about our new receptionist. I expect certain considerations when it comes to new hires here.”

  Jerry was still distracted by the information and the logistics of me being stalked.

  “You’ll love Debbie,” he said offhandedly.

  “I’m going to meet with her in a minute. I expect to be consulted before you do any more hiring.”

  “Sure, sure Sam.”

  I stood up to head to my office. The Kyle Duvall chilling effect was epic and swift. Jerry had heard nothing I’d said. And it didn’t get any better with the new receptionist.

  “So, he’s your bodyguard? Lucky!” Debbie winked at Kyle, but he just stood in the corner stone-faced.

  “No, look, just ignore him.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll mostly be out of the office. I spend a lot of time on the road scouting and then wining and dining prospects.”

  “Sure.”

  “What I will need from you is messages, some research, and occasionally booking my travel if I don’t get to it. You’ll also be helping me shuffle contracts and paperwork between my fighters and their sponsors.”

  “No problem.” I texted Debbie my cell phone contact information and she did the same.

  “I work primarily via this phone and my laptop. I’ll send you links to m
y calendar. It’s my everything. You’ll know where I am and where I’m supposed to be. You’ll also be sure any fighter I approach is entered into a database. We do frequent conflict checks, so other Arm Up agents stay away from my fighters and vice versa.” Debbie took a few notes and asked a few questions. I supposed she’d be fine, but it still pissed me off that Jerry had gone and hired her without even asking me what I thought. I hated it in fact. But that wasn’t Debbie Sander’s fault.

  “Okay. I’m off. I’ll check in later in the day. And if you have questions, just ask.”

  “No problem. Thank you.” Debbie and I were done, and Kyle hadn’t said a word. But still, having him lurk messed with my jam. I loved my independence and all of sudden it was gone. Even though I was falling hard for Kyle Duvall in one area of my life, I did not need him in this one.

  “Where to?” he asked as he held the door open to his completely black GMC. It was unmarked, but it looked FBI from bumper to bumper. I missed my Durango.

  “You don’t need to hold the door open.” I got in and I knew I’d been petulant. I knew he was there to protect me. And I was making it miserable so far.

  “I won’t hold the door open ever again. Now, where to?”

  “Get on the I-96 I think it is. We’re going to Holland, Michigan.”

  “Got it. Who’s in Holland?”

  “Well, it’s a resort town mostly, and there’s a school there. They’ve got a small MMA gym and I hear some good things about Zane Diggs, Rico Torrence and Bas Jergensen.”

  “I know Holland.”

  “Yeah? You like tulips?”

  “Latin Kings were based there.”

  “The what?”

  “My old job, undercover gang member. I muscled some Latin Kings who were robbing our, I mean, Hawk’s gun run.” He talked about gun running and gangs like it was another day at the office. Except for him, days at the office meant gang wars.

  “Hawks, were you a Hawk?”

  “Yeah, Devil’s Hawks was the gang I infiltrated.”

  “They’re bad news?”

  “Very. You don’t want to know the story.”

  “I do.”

  “Essentially I did bad things to collect dirt on the President of the Hawks. But my cover was blown when I saved someone I was supposed to kill.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I had enough to put the Prez away, but let’s just say the Hawks aren’t members of my fan club. So… what makes these three fighters worth a look?”

  “They’re winning. That’s one. And they’re training hard. I hear that stuff. It’s important. They’d all be smart to hire me, but I have room for one.”

  “Why do you only have room for one?”

  “I’m good. I spend my life working for these fighters. Until Arm Up makes me a senior agent or partner, anyway. So I have help. I have to be very selective. Some agents want volume. I want quality. When they sign with me, I do everything. I book their tours, get their press, lock in their endorsements. I take on fighters who are worth that effort. Plus, it would be ridiculously rare if all three had the goods to deserve me.”

  “I see.”

  “When we get there, please lean back, way back, like… stay in the car?”

  I thought I’d give it a shot, but the glare I got was the answer. Special Agent Kyle Duvall would not be waiting in the car. I’d have to do my job with a 300-pound ill-tempered gorilla as a sidekick.

  Holland’s downtown was as cute as could be, but we weren’t headed downtown. We were headed to the outskirts.

  “This looks like the kind of place the Latin Kings would hang out in.”

  “I’m comfortable in dives. The shittier the gym, the tougher the fighter. You scared?” Kyle grunted and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  It was time for me to take the gloves off.

  I walked in first and Kyle hovered behind me, but stayed close to the door as I forged ahead. Shitty little gyms did not have receptionists. But I saw what I was after right away.

  Two buff as hell fighters were sparring in the only actual ring the place had. They were both fast. But I noticed Rico Torrence had a little more in the tank. He was going a little harder. Maybe Rico Torrence was my guy? I watched closely. Zane Diggs wasn’t out yet.

  “Can I help you?” And there was Bas Jergensen, my third fighter. He’d been working out at the weights and tracked me ringside.

  “You’re Bas Jergensen?”

  “I am. You know my name. What’s yours, baby?”

  “Sam Bosque and I’m looking for Diggs and Torrence, and maybe you.”

  “What do you need with those two up there? I can take care of you?” Jergensen, like they almost all do, came in a little close. I could almost feel the floor shake with it. Kyle Duvall had moved from his position at the door to one at my elbow.

  “You want to give the lady some respect?”

  Kyle Duvall was about to punch out one of my prospects.

  “Duvall!” He looked at me with shock.

  “I can handle myself.”

  He stood his ground for a second and I stood mine. Then he blinked. Dammit, I won the stare down!

  “I’ll be at the door.” He said it to me, but he was looking at Jergensen. The flirt was gone and the fighter was staring back at Duvall. Jesus, how was I going to get any work done if I didn’t get a handle on all this testosterone?

  “You and I meet first.” I pointed to Jergensen.

  “Whoever wins up here. I meet with second.” I said it loud enough for the sparring fighters to hear me.

  “Who the fuck are you, lady?” Torrence yelled down at me.

  “Like I said. Sam Bosque, I’m from Arm Up and if you want an MMA career to pay, you need me.”

  Jergensen’s mouth dropped open.

  “Yep, that’s right. I’m a chick.” At this point, a body landed next to me in the ring.

  “Well, it looks like I’ll be meeting you, Diggs. No need to meet with losers.” Torrence didn’t hear my insult as he was unconscious courtesy of Diggs, who was about to be the next client of Arm Up Management if I had my way. And I always had my way.

  “So, who’s that guy?” Jergensen was getting close again.

  “None of your business. Tell me about your goals.” The young fighter said a few things about getting his truck fixed and new ink. This was not the big picture and my MMA Casanova was blowing his chance at me. Not because he wasn’t a good fighter, but because he was short-sighted. I had the big picture in mind.

  “Thanks for talking with me. Now, send Diggs over.” I looked over at Special Agent Duvall. He was across the room, but his eyes were on me and his neck was tense. He was wound so tight I wondered at what it must have been like undercover. He always had to be alert and that doesn’t go away. That and overprotectiveness clearly made a potent combo. I counted it a victory that I could sit in the corner on folding chairs, without him at my back.

  Diggs came over, still sweaty from knocking out Torrence.

  “Hi. So you’re the agent? We thought you were a guy.”

  “I get that a lot. No one seems to be able to Google.”

  Zane Diggs was handsome, very handsome, but rugged looking, and I sensed that same charisma with him that some of my most successful clients had.

  “So, you knocked out Torrence. You were playing with him before?”

  “You said you were meeting one of us. I need this meeting.” That was the stuff. Diggs was going to win. Period. He was the type of fighter who grabbed what he wanted with both hands and didn’t let go. I needed my fighters to work just as hard as I did. Diggs wanted to get to the top and I wanted to help him get there. But now for a few questions.

  “Tell me about your goals.” It was the same question, but Diggs answered very differently to Jergensen. He talked about achieving big titles, double belts, and helping his family. Ink, trucks, women, those were all nice, but Zane Diggs wanted to win more than anything else. And he knew, sort of, what to do if he did.

  Zane Diggs
was my guy. All I had to do was let him know why he needed to pick me.

  “I’m here to turn your wins into a career. And I’m here to be sure your career pays.” I said to Diggs. I had his attention, but I didn’t have his signature. Yet.

  “How are you going to do that?” He looked at me with some pretty devastating blue eyes. Diggs was handsome as hell. The ladies were going to love his dark good looks. He had a swagger that reminded me of my first client, Craddock Flynn. Flynn was the heir apparent to The Rock these days and, like Diggs, he’d been raw, rough, and young, but also smart. Smart was good.

  “You win your fights. I get your name out there, events, publicity, social media. Then the next fight people know who are. You win that and sponsors come calling.” Some fighters knew the drill. They knew the money was in sponsorships first before they got the big purses. Diggs probably still thought it was all in the ring.

  “Like Craddock Flynn.”

  “Nobody’s like him, but let me tell you the secret to this. Two or three good endorsements that I help you secure and you’ll make three times more than the purses for those undercard fights.”

  “And how much do you take of that?” He gave me a little smile. This one was charming. I could see the possibilities lining up.

  “I don’t take a dime. I earn ten percent.” I slid open my bag. I’d prepared a contract with Zane Diggs’ name on it.

  “This the deal?”

  “This is the deal.”

  “Shouldn’t I see a lawyer?”

  “You probably should. But know this. Not one line in here’s going to change. It’s a good deal for you and as hard as you fight in the ring, I’ll fight just as hard outside of it for you.”

  “Still. I should have a lawyer…”

  “You’ve got one hour. I’m leaving town then. I’m going to go get some coffee and I’ll see you then.”

  “One hour to have a lawyer look at this?”

  “Yep, don’t worry. I’m not trying to screw you.” I gave him a wink. I stood up and walked to the door. Part of my business was letting the fighters know I was as tough as they were. I didn’t flinch at blood, sweat, or attorneys.

  My game plan was seriously undermined in the next split second. I was doing my tough, walk away from the client, portion of the pitch.