Guarding Mr. Fine (Tough Love #2) Page 2

  For a second Rick’s vision blurred. Then he remembered the glasses and ripped them off. Tried to shove them into his shirt pocket but fumbled the first two tries. On the third he finally got them tucked away.

  His hand moved to the back of the stranger’s thighs, slipping up toward his ass when Rick felt the touch. A palm moved along the side of his head. He expected a grab of a fistful of his hair, but he got a caress. Fingers slipped to his hair then traveled to his chin to lift his head.

  Rick glanced up, his eyes meeting the stranger’s. A heated intensity burned through them.

  He said the first thing that came into his head. “Please tell me you have a condom.”

  The guy nodded but didn’t say a word.

  Rick lowered his head and slipped his tongue over the guy’s tip again. Licked him.

  “Get up.” The guy’s voice sounded harsh and scratchy now.

  Rick didn’t ignore the demand. Not when he wanted this—him—this much.

  Somehow he stood, surprised at how shaky his legs seemed when the rest of him felt empowered enough to lift a car. The guy’s dick jutted out and Rick couldn’t resist one last feel. He slipped his hand down and kept jerking the guy off. At least getting him close.

  Rick knew he wasn’t going to last long. His erection pressed against his fly to the point of making him squirm. He wanted the pants off and hands on him—now.

  As if he could read minds, the stranger spun Rick around. His balanced faltered. He slammed his palms against the desk and found his footing again. The move had him bending over.

  The stranger didn’t waste the opportunity. He put a hand on the middle of Rick’s back and pushed until Rick fell lower. He kicked Rick’s legs farther apart and reached around, cupping him through his pants. Tracing his fingers over Rick’s length, around his bulge. Touching him until he thought his head would explode.

  “Fuck. Do it now.” To make it happen, he leaned on his elbows. A crunching sound had him lifting again slightly.

  Damn glasses. He slipped them out and held them in his hand, careful not to crush them.

  For the first time since he hit his knees, the sounds of the club floated back to him. A steady drumbeat and the mumble of conversation from overhead. Every club patron could storm through the door and this would still happen. Rick had slipped right past the point of no return.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the guy take out the condom and roll it on. “Any chance you have lube?”

  The guy shook his head. “I have spit.”

  Rick wasn’t so far gone he’d skip that part. “Don’t be afraid to use a lot of it.”

  He heard the guy spit and realized he must have done it into his hand. That was his only choice since Rick hadn’t taken off one piece of clothing…yet.

  Desperate now, he opened his belt and nearly tore at his pants, ripping the zipper down. He shoved at the material and his boxer-briefs. The stranger took it from there. He peeled the underwear off.

  Rick looked down his stomach and saw his pants slip to the floor. Then he heard the guy spit again, felt the wetness hit his ass. A finger slipped inside him, retreated, then plunged again. He kept going, kept moving that hand until Rick felt his body move in time with the thrusting. Then it was gone.

  Rick’s thighs shook. A rush of adrenaline hit him. He fought the urge to grab the guy and get him moving. Almost reached back but then he felt a moment of pressure as the tip slipped inside him.

  The stranger shifted, not hesitating, as he pressed forward in one long push. Rick’s internal muscles grabbed and surrounded him until he felt every inch of the guy. When the thrusting started, the steady push and retreat, Rick’s neck muscles gave out. His head dropped. Between his legs, he could see the guy’s bare thighs.

  Skin slapped against skin. The friction had Rick rocking against the desk. His legs hit the edge but he ignored the thudding and slight twinge. Focused on the clenching of his muscles. Listened to his ragged breathing as his body tightened around the guy.

  The sounds of sex filled the room. The thump of his body against the desk. The creak of the wooden legs against the floor. Rough puffs of air coming from the guy behind him and his own dragging breaths. It all combined and mingled as excitement built inside him.

  He shifted and a stabbing pain sliced through his hand. The sting broke through the haze enveloping him. He forced his fingers open…the glasses. He dropped them and reached for the far edge with one hand as the other slid down his body to jerk on his own erection.

  “I’m close.” The stranger’s voice had dipped even lower.

  His fingers dug into Rick’s hips and he knew he’d have bruises. When the guy leaned over and bit down on Rick’s shoulder, the sting vibrated through him. The subtle mix of so much pleasure and a pinch of pain had what was left of the blood in Rick’s brain rushing to his dick.

  “Yes.” It was the only word Rick could choke out between gasping breaths.

  The guy moved faster. Pressed deeper. Varied the tempo and did something with his hips that had everything inside Rick tightening. He hovered on the edge. The pumping of his hand and a final thrust started his hips bucking.

  He came in a rush and the guy behind him kept up. His thrusting came faster, then he stilled. After a few seconds, his body fell even heavier on top of Rick’s back. Pulses ran through him and echoed around Rick. The first splash of wetness hit his hand just as the guy slammed one of his palms against the desk and groaned.

  They both came without saying a word. The desk shook until Rick feared it would crash to the floor. When his body finally stopped moving, he relaxed, resting his cheek against the wood.

  Damn, that felt good. It wasn’t just that he needed the stress release, though that part was very real. No, it was that he wanted this guy.

  Heat had stormed through him when the stranger turned around at the bar. Common sense fled. Forget being smart and careful and any promise he’d made about being too old for one-night stands with total strangers. He’d gone for it. His only regret now was that they hadn’t stumbled back to a room with a bed where they might have a shot at a second round.

  A full minute ticked by before the stranger pulled out and stood up. Rick heard him moving around. When the sound of the zipper rang out, Rick pushed up. Before he could turn around, the guy handed him a napkin from the club.

  Rick couldn’t help but stare down at it. “Aren’t you prepared?”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Rick wiped his hand and cleaned up as much as he could under the circumstances. Grabbing his briefs and pants came next. Dragging them back up his body took a bit longer.

  He was still fastening his belt when he felt the staring again. His head shot up. “I needed that.” Because, really, what the hell else could he say? He wasn’t one to drone on about how hot a guy was, though this guy was definitely hot. That face. The confidence poured off him. Everything about him was compelling and they sure as hell sparked in the sex department.

  The guy nodded. The heat had faded from his eyes. Before he’d looked on edge and restless. Energy still thrummed around him, but he seemed calmer. Sex tended to do that to a guy.

  Ricked tucked the napkin in his pocket and glanced around the room. They hadn’t broken the desk but at some point the chair behind it had been kicked out of the way and now sat across the room.

  “I need to go.” Rick didn’t have any plans, but making a quick exit seemed like the right move. Hell, he probably should have done that twenty minutes ago but then he would have missed this, and that would have been a shame because the sex had been damn good.

  The guy nodded again. “Understood.”

  This stranger was not a big talker. Rick looked around, thinking he was missing something. But he could feel his wallet in his back pocket. He guessed that covered it. “Right. Enjoy the rest of the night.”

  “I’m not sure I have the strength to do much after that,” the stranger said.

  Rick headed for the door. He fe
lt like he wanted to say something else, do something else. But that was never a great idea with a moment like this. He needed to just walk away. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  For the first time, the guy laughed. “You definitely should.”

  Chapter 3

  The consulate in Munich reminded Rick of a school. A very modern building in the shape of a box with four levels aboveground and more underneath. Windows lined each outside wall and some opened just a fraction at the top, others not at all.

  The building sat in a grassy tree-lined area outlined by guard stations, fences and marines. There he felt surrounded and protected. Anyone trying to break in would need to mount a sizable attack. He couldn’t say the same about the building where he was standing, the official residence of Ed Wright, the former and now very dead consul general.

  It was an historic property, which in this area meant something awful likely happened there during World War II. White and outlined in brown with a typical Bavarian Tudor look. The U.S. flag flew outside and there was a small terrace and patio area in the back for entertaining. Rick stared at it now from the second-floor bedroom window. The same sprawling bedroom with the sitting area and two bathrooms where Ed supposedly killed himself.

  Diplomatic security guarded the grounds. The marines were there to guard the secrets. The rest of the detail had been assigned to watch over Ed. All of them missed the signs that the newly engaged man who just came back from an economic summit in high spirits intended to take his life. And Rick was pretty sure he knew why. He’d been assigned as Ed’s temporary replacement so he could dig around and assess the suicide story in person.

  He walked through the bedroom to the closet. All personal items had been removed, and Rick had been advised that the furniture had all been replaced.

  An eerie sense of despair blanketed the room. There was something suffocating about being in there, about digging through another man’s life. Dissecting and analyzing and acting as if he knew anything about what went on in Ed’s mind before he allegedly killed himself.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” Ben Rogers, the consulate’s public affairs officer, asked from the doorway.

  Rick hid his surprise at the unexpected disruption. He should have guessed Ben would be lurking. It only took two days of knowing Ben to pick up on his habit of showing up and repeatedly asking how he could help with the transition. Stand there, watching. Rick didn’t shake easily but something about Ben unnerved him. He was almost too available to assist.

  Ben was career foreign service. In his thirties, he’d already dedicated all of his working life to the agency and diplomatic missions. He’d been stationed in Mumbai and Thailand. He spoke German fluently, so Munich was a natural fit for him. Blond haired with blue eyes and a sunny disposition, in many ways Rick saw Ben as his opposite.

  The briefing file suggested Ben had a solid future so long as Ed’s death didn’t derail him. Rick didn’t see any signs that had happened. He’d discovered Ed’s body and received some mandatory counseling, but he refused to leave his post. That was the sort of loyalty his superiors appreciated and rewarded.

  “I was just…” Rick noticed Ben hadn’t crossed the threshold into the bedroom. He didn’t know if that was out of deference or from the twitchiness that came with pawing through a dead man’s things. Rick understood the revulsion for both.

  “The place has been cleaned.” Ben gestured down the hallway behind him. “There’s also another suite that you could use if you’re not comfortable in here.”

  Rick was more interested in how the place had been searched after the discovery and the investigation afterward than he was about the cleaning, though that was good to know, too.

  “I’m going to stay at the consulate for now.” He had his reasons. All related to his very real belief that Ed’s death was not a suicide.

  Ben’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s too soon to replace Ed here. It feels wrong, disrespectful somehow.” And he wasn’t taking the chance on being the next consul general to sleep there and not wake up.

  “But the house is yours.”

  “I’m aware of that, Ben.” When he started to say something else, Rick talked over him. “How well did you know Ed?”

  Ben folded his arms as he glanced around the room, looking anywhere but at Rick. “We worked together for nineteen months.”

  So precise. Rick almost expected Ben to pinpoint his working time with Ed down to hours.

  That level of exactness contrasted sharply with the guy moving around in front of him. Normally Rick would read the fidgeting and lack of eye contact as a sign, but this was a weird situation. If Ben truly believed this was a suicide there might be guilt about clues missed. A whole lot of baggage that could throw off the outward signals.

  But Rick still needed intel. His contacts on the ground didn’t believe the suicide story. They were the ones who tipped Rick off to the discrepancies in the office, and that happened long before anyone found Ed dead. Just when Rick started digging into Ed’s comings and goings, Ed killed himself. The timing struck Rick as a pretty big coincidence. Maybe Ed panicked, but since Rick hadn’t left a trail or asked any questions, or even spoke to anyone at the CIA of his concerns at that point, Rick believed Ed was removed for a reason other than being found out.

  The diplomatic community was reeling over the loss of one of their own, someone many of them had worked with and admired. The fiancée was inconsolable. It was an awful situation but Rick sensed the underlying issue was even worse.

  While investigating government weapons movement through unauthorized sales across Europe he’d uncovered three separate and obscure complaints about vaccine shipments passing through relief agencies and arriving at their destinations with missing cargo. The manifests showed correct numbers on the export end and upon receipt through the different steps in the supply chain, but the shipments ultimately arrived with thousands of doses missing and the wrong number of crates.

  It all looked legitimate and had been written off as distribution errors, but Rick found the signatures and names in the middle section of the supply chain—the part that ran through Munich—didn’t match those of the actual people on the ground. The paperwork seemed to be doctored to hide something else. More digging led him to believe the three reported incidents were only a small part of an overall scheme.

  When Rick matched the locations of the missing vaccine cargo to locations with a sudden influx of U.S. weapons being sold on the underground market, he wondered if vaccines had been switched out for weapons somewhere along the line. Listening to chatter on back channels, he picked up messages about a diplomat who could be “counted on,” but for what, Rick wasn’t clear.

  Rick left the safety of his office to be on the ground and ferret this out. He didn’t have an answer yet, but the pieces added up to a potentially serious problem either happening on Ed’s watch without his knowledge or, worse, with his authority.

  “Did you see any sign that he was despondent or upset?” Rick chose his words carefully.

  The plan was to ask only what would be expected from anyone in his position. He couldn’t tip anyone off. Not until he figured out what was happening in Munich and who in the consulate knew about it. His personal bodyguard was also on the way, so it seemed like a good idea not to get shot before that guy arrived on the scene.

  Ben shook his head. “No, sir.”

  Not exactly a helpful response. “Any change in mood?”

  “Only a positive change. He was excited about the wedding and taking some time off.” Ben shrugged. “Most of us assume they fought, that something happened between them and Ed…” This time Ben shook his head. “I guess these things never really make sense or have a clear answer.”

  That matched every other report Rick had heard. The pain in Ben’s face also looked familiar. Rick had seen similar strains of it as he greeted the rest of his staff that morning. “Do you need some time off?”

 
Ben frowned. “For what?”

  That was the kind of response Rick didn’t know how to catalog, so he filed it away to consider later. “To recover. Maybe take a breath before you start in with a new consul general and a new schedule.”

  “I’m fine, sir.”

  He wasn’t convinced any of this was fine. “You can call me Rick.”

  “No, I really can’t.”

  Rick bit back a sigh. “Could you give me a few minutes?”

  Ben hesitated for a second before nodding. “Sure.”

  He walked out, leaving Rick alone in the room again. He stepped back into the closet. Something about the walk-in space had him scanning and thinking. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the dark wood panels with plenty of rods and shelves.

  At the far end was the wall safe. Not hidden or guarded in any way. He swung the metal door open and looked inside. He didn’t expect to find anything and wasn’t disappointed to discover it empty.

  He took a few steps, thinking to tour the rest of the bedrooms on the floor when his gaze went to the safe again. Uncovered and obvious. Why would that be? If Ed hid paperwork or money in here, even anything legitimate, he wouldn’t do it in a safe anyone walking by could see.

  He also had safes at the consulate. Safes guarded by professionals and hidden behind a big fence and guard station. The consulate handled secure information all the time. They were prepared for it.

  Rick ran his hands over the woodwork. He had no idea what he was looking for or if there was even anything to find. He just knew the room looked off and while he blamed the memory that a man had hanged himself right in front of the big window with the view of the backyard, he couldn’t help but think this prickling sensation came from something else.

  He dropped down, balancing on the balls of his feet as his gaze traveled around the outline of the closet. It probably measured eight foot square. A good size and wide open now. No obvious signs that anything had been in there.

  It was all too clean. Everybody had secrets but none of the personal effects the CIA found in the house pointed to any for Ed. Rick didn’t trust that. All human beings had pasts and regrets. But not this guy, not even a stray note or letter.