He groaned through clenched teeth as she moved her hands and mouth up and down him, savoring every twitch of his muscles, every hitch in his breathing. “Sweetheart, stop or I’ll come,” he warned.
No way. She was going to destroy him with pleasure first. She sucked slowly, humming with pleasure as she twirled her tongue around him.
With an unintelligible sound of denial he suddenly clenched his hands tight in her hair and pulled her off him. Briar eased back onto her heels and stared up at him, her own heart pounding at the sight of more than two hundred pounds of prime, aroused alpha male gazing down at her, his eyes blazing with lust. Before she could move he grabbed her shoulder and hauled her to her feet, spinning to pin her to the door with his body. His hands gripped her thighs as he lifted and wound them around his waist.
His mouth slammed down on hers, one of his hands now gripping a fistful of hair at her nape, holding her there while his tongue plundered her lips and he rubbed his rigid cock against the throbbing apex of her thighs. Briar let out a broken moan that he smothered with his kiss and ground against him, her entire body on fire, need like she’d never experienced clawing at her. She wanted him to take her right this instant, right against the door and she didn’t care who heard them.
Straining in his solid grip, desperate for more, Zahra’s voice suddenly called out from downstairs. “Hello?”
They both froze. Matt jerked his head back and they stared at each other, breathing hard.
“Guys, I’m back! Where are you?”
“Ah, shit, really?” Matt muttered, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers. Briar did the same, struggling to get her raging body back under control. “Rain check,” he said softly.
“I’ve got food, so who’s hungry?”
Briar stifled a whimper as Matt released her and let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. Oh, they were both hungry all right. Starving. And unfortunately they were both going to have to wait to satisfy their true appetite.
Chapter Seventeen
Matt peered over Zahra’s shoulder as she pulled up a list of possible suspects on Rycroft’s computer in the den, trying to give her his full attention while every cell in his body was attuned to the woman standing next to him. It was pure mental willpower that allowed him to concentrate on what was being said while his body was still burning with sexual frustration.
As soon as they were alone tonight, he was going to turn the tables on Briar and make her scream with pleasure as she came against his tongue and around his cock.
Not helping the situation.
With a mental shake he focused on what Zahra had on the screen. A list they’d compiled of people who might possibly be involved with the illegal arms deals and also connected to Janaia, Briar and the dead assets.
It was a long fucking list. They’d opted to begin searching at the bottom of the food chain and work their way up, to try and avoid flagging anyone in the CIA about their digging.
A few minutes later the encrypted phone Rycroft had given him rang. Matt pulled it out, saw Celida’s number and answered. “Hey. What’s up?”
“I’ve been tracking the contacts both dead assets had been in touch with recently. Mostly men involved with militias back in Syria. I’m sending you guys pictures. Can you see if any of them look familiar to Briar?”
“Sure.” They’d had to let her and Tuck in on the fact that Briar was still alive. He didn’t have any reservations about it because he trusted them both implicitly and knew they wouldn’t tell anyone else, not even the rest of the guys on the team. Celida was working on this in secret, on her own time, and covering her tracks. She was a hard-nosed investigator with the reputation of being a bulldog when she sank her teeth into something, and that’s exactly what Briar needed right now.
He put Celida on speaker so they could all hear her. Zahra opened the file she sent and began scrolling through the photos.
“Abdul,” Briar said, pointing to one man about three-quarters of the way down the second page. “I’ve met with him a couple times in the past.”
Rycroft peered at the information beside the photo. “He’s a low level arms dealer.”
“Yes. He should know about the arms deals in the area.”
“Abdul’s been in contact with a few people in the U.S. recently,” Celida informed them. “Including a few in and around the Washington D.C. area. Zahra, can you check his bank account records?”
“Sure can.” The female analyst opened up another program and began a search using his name, birthdate and place of birth. She checked various accounts, stopped on one in particular. “This could be something. There’ve been a few good-sized fund transfers out of his account over the past ninety days, the last one eight days ago.”