Free Weston by Debra Kayn Page B

to convince her how serious my problem is, so she can stay safe.”
    “No. She stays immune to what’s going on.” He shook his head. “The less she knows about the dangers, the better.”
    “How can you say that?” Her voice rose. “She’s not your mother.”
    “Trust me.”
    She moved to leave, and he strode in front of her. She glared. “Get out of my way.”
    “Calm down,” he said.
    “Don’t tell me to calm down.” She planted her hands on his chest and pushed. He widened his stance, and she dodged to the left, failing in her escape. “Let go of me.”
    He twirled her around, manipulating her as if she were a puppet. “You asked for my help. Now, trust me.”
    “I don’t trust anyone.” She snorted to prove her point.
    His lips twitched right before he lowered his head. His mouth skimmed hers. “You’re so damn addictive.”
    She clamped her lips shut. He laughed against her mouth. There was something incredibly seductive about the way his lips softened and his breath filled her space. She closed her eyes, so he wouldn’t see her resolve to stay angry with him weaken.
    “I’ll never get enough of you.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Ever.”
    She stretched to her tiptoes, wanting to hear more about how much he wanted her.
    “You”—he nibbled the corner of her lips—“taste fucking great.”
    She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down, capturing the kiss. He took what she offered, nudging, licking, and nipping her lips until her spine quivered. She opened her mouth and moaned as his tongue touched hers. Holy fricktastic.
    She raised her leg and ran her thigh against his jeans. He pulled back, gasping, his gaze heated. She tugged, not ready to stop, but his body went hard as he gazed off to the side.
    “What?” She hated the whine in her voice, but she wanted to keep kissing him.
    “Shh.” He set her away from him.
    The fog of lust Tony had created vanished, and she heard voices coming from somewhere in the house. Her pulse thrummed faster. She removed her pistol and stepped forward. Tony held up his hand, hitched his thumb toward the doorway to let her know where the noise came from, and then scissor-walked his two fingers in front of him to signal he would go alone to case the house. She rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to leave her behind to hide away in the bedroom.
    “It’s my mom out there in the living room with whoever just walked into your house,” she whispered. “I’m going too.”
    He leaned closer. “Trust me, sweetheart.”
    God, she hated when a civilian pulled rank—not that she’d ever had one try. She followed him out of the bedroom and down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder once he looked into the living room, and put his weapon in his holster. She did not.
    He could go on believing he had control of the situation, but she knew firsthand what Darrell was capable of doing when someone put his guard down. At this point and after this many hours, Darrell could have anyone on his payroll, even Kage or one of Tony’s ex-girlfriends. She kept her gun raised to her chest and skirted the wall as Tony walked out into the living room without any worries.
    She slid to the opposite side, peeked into the room, and frowned.
    An older woman with her dark blonde hair in a long braid dangling down her back, wearing jeans and a red T-shirt with the word Vegas in glitter, stood with her arm wrapped around Rocki’s mom. Both women whispered to each other, wearing concerned looks. Tony slapped the man in the room on the back and got pulled into a hug before they both grinned at each other and separated. A man who now stared at her with startling transparent blue eyes that matched Tony’s. She lowered the pistol and slid it back into her jeans.
    The man’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he stepped past Tony, a slight limp to his walk. “I’m Caleb. You must be Rocki.”
    She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
    “There she is.” The woman with her mom rushed