Page 79 of Sam's Salvation
And he was all hers. She was his. Wholly and completely. She understood what all the books and movies were about now. What it meant to find your person.
He pulled back from their kiss to look into her eyes. With one hand on her hip, guiding her as she rode him, he cradled her face with the other. “I love you, Audra. You’re stuck with me.”
She gave a jerky nod, words failing her as the heat created by the friction of their bodies consumed her. “I’m—I’m all right with that.”
He kissed her again, holding her close as their bodies moved together. When she broke, he swallowed her cry, his own mixing in a moment later.
Ears ringing from the most intense orgasm of her life, she flopped against him. Their chests heaved in unison, and she could taste the salt from his skin when she pressed a light kiss to his collarbone.
His hand landed on her back, resuming the slow circles from earlier. Audra’s eyelids drifted closed. Sleep finally tugged at the edges of her mind, growing heavier with each stroke of his hand. He slipped out of bed as her muscles turned to jelly, then came back a moment later with a damp cloth. She murmured a thank you as he cleaned her up. The last thing she noted before sleep fully cloaked her brain was Sam snuggling up to her back and the soft press of his lips to her hair as he whispered, “I love you so much.”
Thirty-Seven
Sam snapped another picture as a car pulled up to the gate at the Powells’ warehouse. He and the others, plus Moran and a tech from his unit, were in a utility van parked in the visitor’s parking at the scrapyard next door. This was the tenth car he’d photographed. He glanced back at the technician, Jessica Dorset. “Did that one come through okay? He was speeding.” The fancy camera Moran put in his hands earlier was a marvel of modern technology. It uploaded the images as soon as he took them. Jessica was running license plates in real time.
“It’s fine. A little blurry, but the software will clean it up.”
“There’s another one coming,” Moran said.
Sam aimed the camera out the back window and started snapping as the luxury sports car drove by.
Max whistled. “That’s a nice car. Nicest we’ve seen so far.”
“For sure.” Sam took several shots as the car slowed to turn into the Powells’ drive, giving him a perfect view of the rear license plate. “Let’s hope we can catch them red-handed tomorrow and Moran can seize that car and whatever cash the guy has. It’d go a long way toward stopping more of this kind of activity.” He turned to Audra. “You getting anything from the license plates, babe?”
She let out a soft snort. “It’s a bloody goldmine. A lot of the vehicles are coming back to corporations, but they’re ones we know about that are fronts for illegal activity. What I’m not seeing, though, are ones tied to the Irish mafia.”
“Maybe they didn’t get that far in their relationship,” Dean said. “You did say you thought their meeting was just a feel each other out type of thing.”
“I know. But I missed the beginning, so…” She trailed off and shrugged.
Max’s phone dinged. He looked at the screen. “It’s an email from Asher. He’s done with my new identity.” Opening it, he skimmed it. “Oh, come on, man!”
Sam chuckled. “Let me guess. He gave you a shitty name?”
“Heinrich von Ribbentrop.”
Audra chuckled. “Well, that seems fitting.”
“Why? Do I look like a Heinrich von Ribbentrop?”
“No. I just meant the name is fitting for the op. Joachim von Ribbentrop was a bad dude. He was instrumental in making Hitler the German Chancellor. The man was one of his closest confidantes during World War II. And a filthy rich businessman.”
“How do you know this?” Moran asked.
She shrugged. “I’m English. We know our war history.”
“Wonderful.” Max rolled his eyes. “I’m a Nazi.”
“Better brush up on your German accent,” Dean said with a chuckle.
“Stuff it, Adler. I’m going to be his American cousin.”
“Got another car.” Moran sat forward, peering through the tinted window. “An SUV.”
Sam took more pictures.
“I still don’t know how your guy swung that invitation.” Moran glanced at Max. “Who is he again?”