Protective Custody

“You will do exactly as I say, Nicole.”

Those long, tanned fingers tightened to the precise point just short of pain. That silvery gaze darkened as Ian pulled her closer. “The issue is not up for debate.”

Nicole met his intense glare with lead in her own. “Then you’d better be prepared to stick to me like glue. To watch every move I make,” she warned. “The first time you turn your back, I’m out of here. I’ve had the same training as you, and we both know I’m very good at my job.”

Loaded silence followed that summation. A muscle flexed rhythmically in his chiseled jaw. Heat mushroomed between their almost-touching bodies. Nicole’s heart pounded so hard, she felt sure Ian could hear it threatening to burst from her chest.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, the sound of his voice wreaking havoc with her senses.

Nicole’s breath caught when her gaze connected with his once more. Desire, hot and fierce, burned in his eyes. She blinked. That one thing was all they had ever truly shared—overwhelming attraction, soul-shattering desire. The kind that diminished all else.

Protective Custody
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it bad enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998, her dream of writing for Harlequin Books came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee, 37345.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Nicole Reed—Someone knows her secret and that someone wants her dead. There is only one man she can trust: Ian Michaels.

Ian Michaels—Nicole betrayed him once, but he cannot turn his back on Nicole when her life is in danger.

Victoria Colby—The head of the Colby Agency.

Ric Martinez—The Colby Agency’s newest investigator. He has a lot to learn, but Ian is a good teacher.

Director Landon—Did he die protecting Nicole’s secret?

Agent Daniels—Was he murdered by the assassin stalking Nicole?

Leonna Landon—Is the grieving widow safe from her husband’s assassin?

Raymond Solomon—Is his case worth dying for?

Alex Preston & Ethan Delaney—Two of the Colby Agency’s finest.

George Reed—His toys may prove a dangerous distraction.

Trevor Sloan—The man who helped James Colby build the Colby Agency. Sloan has demons of his own to slay, but his legendary reputation lives on.

This book is dedicated to a very special lady, Mary Bauer.

Thank you, Mary, for being a cherished friend and an inspiration to us all.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

“Absolute trust is essential.” Nicole Reed’s solemn gaze settled heavily onto Victoria’s. “Both our lives will depend on my being able to trust your investigator completely. I know Ian Michaels. I can trust him.”

Victoria Colby considered that last statement for a time before she spoke. Not a single doubt existed in her mind that Ian would be the wisest choice. He was not only the Colby Agency’s most experienced investigator, he was a man of his word. With Nick Foster’s retirement, Ian had transitioned into the position of second-in-command. Victoria employed only the finest in their fields at the Colby Agency, and Ian had proven no exception during his three years of service.

“Miss Reed, I understand your need for a civilian investigator. Obviously, you can’t trust anyone in your own organization.”

“I can’t trust anyone even remotely connected to the bureau or the Witness Security Program.” Nicole sighed. “I wish that weren’t the case, but it is. There have been two attempts on my life already. My director is dead, as well as another agent I’ve worked closely with in the past. Until I get to the bottom of what’s going on, I need someone I can trust to watch my back. Your agency has an impeccable reputation, Mrs. Colby, and I trust Ian Michaels.”

Victoria relaxed into the soft leather of her chair and studied the client seated across the wide expanse of her oak desk. The woman’s features were striking. She looked as if she had just stepped off the pages of Vogue. A navy silk jacket and trousers lent an air of professionalism as well as elegance to her image. Blond hair fell around her shoulders. Wide, assessing blue eyes highlighted a face that could only be called beautiful. So, Victoria noted, this woman was the reason Ian Michaels had walked away from a promising career as a U.S. Marshal.

Victoria arched a speculative brow. “Your history with Ian may be a problem, Miss Reed.”

Nicole frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Victoria almost smiled at the look of innocence Nicole Reed could adopt. “Before I employ anyone at this agency, I research their background thoroughly. I evaluate their strong points as well as their weak points, and I familiarize myself with their past mistakes. You worked with Ian Michaels on a high-profile case just over three years ago. The Solomon case, I believe.”

Nicole’s expression grew guarded. “That’s right.”

“I’m aware of your personal involvement with Ian, and the subsequent outcome of that involvement,” Victoria added, leaving no question as to the point she intended.

“Raymond Solomon died, Mrs. Colby. We did our best to protect him, but he died anyway. End of story.”

Between the suddenly blank look in the other woman’s eyes and the emotionless tone of her voice, Victoria had her doubts as to whether the story had ended. But that wasn’t the issue here. Nicole Reed needed help, and the Colby Agency had made its reputation by providing the kind of help she required. Victoria straightened, then pressed the intercom button. “Mildred, ask Ian if he’s free. I’d like him to join this meeting.”

Nicole blinked, then looked away. Asking for Ian’s help couldn’t be easy, Victoria imagined. After all, it was Nicole who had helped end his former career. And if Victoria had Ian pegged right, which she likely did, Miss Nicole Reed had probably broken his fiercely guarded heart as well.

“You need help,” Victoria told her finally. “And I believe this agency can help you, Miss Reed.” Nicole relaxed visibly. “However, I don’t feel Ian is the proper choice considering your shared history.” Their gazes locked, Victoria’s firm, Nicole’s hesitant. “But I will allow him to make the final decision.”

Nicole lifted one shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Fair enough.”

The moment Ian entered the room Nicole knew she had seriously overestimated the healing value of time. His stance stiffened and those silver eyes frosted with indifference when his gaze collided with hers. His expression was exactly the same as it had been the last time Nicole had seen him, filled with unmasked contempt. No matter, he was the one person she could trust. She might be a fool for even asking for his help, but it was worth a shot. Besides, that’s the way their relationship had been from the beginning, overpowering attraction, yet bordering on enmity.

“Ian, I’m sure you remember Miss Reed,” Victoria announced, breaking the awkward silence.

His icy gaze never left Nicole’s. She didn’t miss the slight hesitation before he spoke. “Yes. Of course.”

Nicole steeled herself against the shiver generated by the low, raspy sound of his voice. Deep, sexy as hell, and laced with a hint of European flavor. Ian Michaels had the kind of voice erotic dreams were made of. Tangled sheets and long, hot nights immediately leapt to mind. From the moment they had first met, the man’s tone and speech pattern had tripped some sort of desire trigger deep inside Nicole. He only had to look into her eyes, speak, and she melted. Despite what had happened between them and the passage of three years, his effect on her remained unchanged. But she couldn’t let him get to her this time. This time she had to maintain strict control.

Nicole swallowed, then stood. She extended her hand and produced a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Ian.”

Ian’s gaze traced her body with painstaking slowness, making Nicole too warm despite her determination not to react. Then he stared, long and hard, at her hand before taking it in his own. Long, tanned fingers wrapped around hers and she fought the added reaction his touch evoked. She could not allow this. Too much depended on the next few minutes and this one man to permit emotion to override reason.

Ian acknowledged her greeting with nothing more than a ghost of a nod, then released her hand and turned to Victoria. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yes. Please, have a seat.” Victoria indicated the remaining chair in front of her desk.

Seemingly from some faraway place, Nicole listened as Victoria recounted their earlier discussion, the words barely registering. Nicole could not take her eyes off the man now seated next to her. Still tall and amazingly handsome. Still a commanding presence that stole her breath. He wore his hair longer now, she noted with reluctant admiration, its dark length curling at his nape. Nicole almost smiled as her greedy gaze swept over his body. Though the suit was more elegant now, probably Armani, the color was the same. Black. Ian always wore black. And he would certainly be as good at his job today as he had been three years ago. No fugitive ever eluded him for long. No witness ever failed to make it to court or to safety when Ian was assigned the case.

Ian Michaels never failed. That’s why he had been assigned to the Solomon case three years ago.

And that’s the reason Nicole had received her assignment as well. To see that Ian failed in his.

Now, with the memory of betrayal still screaming between them, she had come to ask Ian for help. There was no one else she could trust. Nicole held her breath as she waited for him to respond to the request that he handle her case personally.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the investigator Victoria assigns to your case,” he said coolly, his icy gaze once more connecting with Nicole’s. “But it won’t be me.”

“YOU’RE COMFORTABLE with your decision then?”

“Yes.” Ian didn’t turn around. He knew Victoria was disappointed in him, but right now he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was watch Nicole storm across the parking lot four stories below. She had left Victoria’s office as if his refusal to help her didn’t matter, but he knew better. He had seen the uncertainty, then the defeat flicker in her blue eyes. Whatever her current situation, she considered Ian’s refusal to help her a significant loss. Ian almost smiled. However, it didn’t come close to evening the score.

“You’re not concerned with her refusal to work with Alex?” Victoria again interrupted his moment of savoring victory with another dig at his already chafed conscience.

“Why should I be?” Ian clenched his jaw at the denial that crowded his throat. He no longer gave one damn about Nicole Reed. No matter that his traitorous body had reacted as if three years had not passed…as if Nicole had not already cost him dearly. Had she really despised him enough to purposely get in the way of his work? Had her own ambition meant more to her than a man’s life? Ian would likely never know the answers to those questions. Did it even matter? No. He couldn’t change the past. It was over, done with. Solomon was dead.

“Nicole can take care of herself,” he said in answer to Victoria’s question. His voice sounded harsh to his own ears. Reacting on emotion was not something Ian allowed, but he hadn’t been able to help himself today.

The squeak of leather alerted Ian when Victoria stood. She had more to say on the issue, of that he felt certain. Three near-silent steps later and she was at his side watching Nicole’s determined march toward whatever vehicle she had arrived in.

“I know very little about what happened between the two of you, but I do know a woman in trouble when I see one.”

Ian kept his gaze glued to that mane of long blond hair fluttering in the September breeze behind Nicole. How could the mere sight of her still make him ache with need? Even knowing what he knew. Why in hell would Nicole come to him for help? She had to know he would refuse. She had to be desperate.

Victoria had made the decision his, and he had decided. Nicole’s subsequent refusal to work with another investigator was not his problem, Ian reminded himself as that annoyingly restless sensation twisted inside him. The feeling was all too familiar, but he intended to ignore his instincts this time. Nicole was on her own.

“Perhaps she’ll change her mind,” Victoria suggested.

“She won’t,” he murmured. A thought spoken. Nicole had entirely too much pride. The fact that she had come to him at all spoke volumes about her proximity to the edge. But she definitely would not come crawling back for what she would consider second best, and begging had never been her style. Remorse trickled through him before he could stop it. He knew her too well.

“Well, then, I hope you’re right.” Victoria folded her arms over her chest. “I hope she can take care of herself.”

“I stopped caring one way or another a long time ago,” he affirmed aloud. Who was he trying to convince? he wondered with self-disgust. Victoria or himself?

As if to refute his words an earthshaking explosion rattled the glass in front of his face. Debris from what used to be an automobile flew in a dozen directions. Black smoke mushroomed skyward as flames licked the remaining, mutilated frame. Ian’s heart lurched. He frantically scanned the parking lot. Panicked pedestrians rushed toward the building for cover. He clutched the edge of the windowsill as his heart stilled in his chest.

Nicole! Where was Nicole?

Chapter One

The ground trembled beneath Nicole’s feet. An invisible wall slammed into her face, shoving her backwards until the pavement stopped her. Her head hurt. Badly.

Nicole struggled to open her eyes…to fight the vortex of thick, heavy darkness sucking her toward oblivion. She had to wake up. To run from the danger! But her body refused to cooperate. She couldn’t move…couldn’t scream.

Nicole heard herself groan, the sound giving her hope that she wasn’t dead after all. Pain exploded inside her head. She clung to the pain. You had to be alive to feel pain. She felt herself move, a simple side-to-side motion of her head, which initiated another burst of fiery pain at the back of her skull. She groaned again. Louder this time.

“You’re safe, Nicole.”

She stilled. That voice…

Ian. Her lids fluttered open and her eyes labored with the effort to focus in the near-darkness. The face that had invaded her dreams for more than three years finally came into focus.

“Ian?”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

Nicole closed her eyes and savored the erotic sound of his voice. Memories flooded her mind. The explosion. Hitting the ground. And then Ian was there…taking care of her. A weary sigh eased past her lips, her body aching even with that tiny exertion. He had insisted on having her examined at the ER, then he had taken her back to his place. She remembered falling into an exhausted sleep in his arms.

“My head hurts.” She opened her eyes, and her gaze connected with his. Those emotionless gray eyes gave nothing away.

“I know.” With gentle fingers, he brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “I’m sorry.”

Ian’s refusal to accept her case suddenly hit with the same impact as that invisible wall. “Why are you doing this?” Nicole sat straight up with the surge of adrenaline that accompanied that thought. Pain twisted inside her head. She rubbed at the tender spot on the back of her scalp.

“You were badly shaken. The doctor said you shouldn’t be alone,” he offered quietly.

Bracing her hands behind her to maintain her upright position, Nicole leveled her gaze on his. “The explosion?”

“Your rental car apparently.” He searched her eyes. “I’ve taken care of things with the police. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

This time had been too close. Nicole clenched her teeth and forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly. She needed to be calm—to think. She surveyed the darkened room. Ian’s bedroom. His scent, so familiar, suddenly enveloped her. That clean, subtle musky scent that was his alone. That stirred her blood even under current circumstances.

His bed. She was in his bed—with him hovering over her. Why had she let him bring her here? He wasn’t going to help her. He had made that point quite clear. Anger shot through her veins, sending her heart back into double time.

“I have to get out of here.” Nicole scrambled from beneath the covers. She wasn’t safe here. She wasn’t safe anywhere. She had to run as fast as she could.

“We need to talk.”

Instinctively Nicole rolled to the other side of the bed, out of his reach. She jumped to her feet and immediately regretted both moves. The insistent throb inside her skull erupted with a vengeance, threatening her unsteady legs. Not quite a concussion, the doctor had said she would be fine. She had been very lucky to only be close enough for the force of the blast to knock her to the ground. Nicole squeezed her eyes shut and focused on blocking out the pain. There was too much to be done. No time to waste. She had to reschedule her flight. She had a witness to relocate and protect. And she couldn’t trust the regular channels to handle it. Someone wanted her and her witness dead. How had the bastard tracked her to Chicago? She had been so careful. No mistakes! No one knew her location.

No, that wasn’t true, Nicole realized grimly, because he had found her. And he would find her again. She needed her things. Did she dare go back to the hotel and get the few items she had brought with her? She would need a change of clothes.

Clothes.

Nicole stared down at herself. The shimmering glow of moonlight from a nearby window confirmed her sudden realization. Her clothes were gone. She wore nothing but her skimpy, lacy bra and matching blue panties.

“Where the hell are my clothes?” Nicole looked up to find Ian towering over her, his tall, dark frame almost lost in the shadows. Something, some emotion flitted across his features too quickly for Nicole to analyze, and then that mask of iron control fell back into place.

“I thought you would be more comfortable like this.” His gaze moved slowly over her. “I sent your clothes to be cleaned,” he added in that maddeningly calm way of his.

That tone. That controlling, no-arguments-tolerated tone. He had no intention of working with her, yet he had taken charge of the game strategy. She was no different than one of his fugitives. He would handle the situation until he could wash his hands of her. That was his way. Ian Michaels always did the right thing. He never deviated from the straight and narrow—never failed.

Except once.

And then he had turned his back on her as if nothing had happened between them. As if what they had shared hadn’t mattered in the final scheme of things. He hadn’t given her the benefit of the doubt. Hadn’t waited around for her to explain. Ian had simply walked away. From her. From everything.

Because she had betrayed him. The fact that she had only been doing her job was of no consequence—even if she had been able to tell him the truth. Nothing she could have said or done would have altered his opinion of her. If the man were capable of emotion he might display some sort of reaction. Anger, pain, remorse, something. Nicole almost laughed out loud. But this was Ian Michaels. She glowered at him. He didn’t allow himself to feel. Hadn’t she learned that three years ago? Hadn’t she learned anything at all?

“Where are my clothes?” she repeated with all the force she could marshal. She should have known better than to come to him. Why would he care if she lived or died? And how could she blame him?

“I’ve already answered that question.”

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have wasted my time.” Nicole attempted to brush past him only to be halted by his half step to the right.

“You need to tell me what’s going on, Nicole,” he argued quietly.

“Get out of my way, Michaels.” Nicole darted to his left. Ian moved more quickly, effectively blocking her once more.

His unreadable gaze locked on hers. A hint of a smile curled his irritatingly full lips. “You have no clothes, no transportation, no money. How do you propose to leave?”

He had her clothes and her bag. Another rush of anger flooded Nicole. She stood before him exposed, emotionally as well as physically. She glared into his handsome face, his perfectly controlled emotions angering her all the more. She manufactured a caustic smile of her own. “Don’t sweat it, Michaels. I’m sure I can get a ride.” Nicole ran the fingers of both hands through her hair, allowing the long strands to drift down over her shoulders. “In fact,” she added tartly, ignoring the protest of her sore muscles, “if push comes to shove, I feel certain I can earn myself some fast cash.” Not that she would ever resort to what she was suggesting, but he didn’t have to know that, and if it hit the mark… “You don’t need to worry about me at all. I can take care of myself.”

Nicole knew she would not soon forget the collection of emotions that danced across his handsome face. But it was anger that ultimately took center stage and held his features captive. The uncharacteristic outward display fascinated her for about two seconds then trepidation kicked in. Before she could take a step back, he grabbed her by both arms.

“You will do exactly as I say, Nicole.” Those long, tanned fingers tightened to the precise point just short of pain. That silvery gaze darkened as he pulled her closer to him. “The issue is not up for debate.”

Nicole met his intense glare with lead in her own. “Then you’d better be prepared to stick to me like glue. To watch every move I make,” she warned. “The first time you turn your back I’m out of here. I’ve had the same training as you, Michaels, and we both know I’m very good at my job.”

Loaded silence followed that summation. A muscle flexed rhythmically in his chiseled jaw. Heat mushroomed between their almost-touching bodies. Nicole’s heart pounded so hard she felt sure Ian could hear it threatening to burst from her chest. To her utter frustration, her gaze drifted to his lips. She licked her own, her mind immediately conjuring up his taste.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, the sound of his voice wreaking havoc with her senses.

Nicole’s breath caught when her gaze connected with his once more. Desire, hot and fierce, burned in his eyes. She blinked. That one thing was all they had ever truly shared—overwhelming attraction, soul-shattering desire. The kind that diminished all else. “What do you want from me?” she demanded. Nicole searched his eyes for an answer beyond the heat and memory that connected them body and soul.

“When that car exploded and I couldn’t see you, I thought…” He released her arms only to gently cup her face in his hands. His thumb glided across her cheek, sending shivers down her spine. The breath of his reluctant sigh whispered across her lips. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Nicole steeled herself against what she wanted to feel. Just words. That’s all they were. She couldn’t trust Ian with her heart any more than she could trust her life to the bastard who was trying to kill her. She understood Ian’s probable motivation—revenge. Would he take this opportunity to do to her what she had done to him three years ago? If he only knew…

Ruthlessly squashing the tiny spark of hope his words elicited, Nicole encircled his wrists with trembling fingers and attempted to remove his hands from her face.

Ian swallowed…hard, the play of muscle beneath tanned skin doing strange things to her stomach. “I can’t lose you again,” he murmured.

“You never had me,” she assured him with forced contempt.

He laughed softly and raised one dark brow in mock speculation. “I can recall having you at least four times, Nicole.” That eclectic accent he had gained from growing up in half a dozen European countries thickened as his voice lowered to a more seductive level. His fingers slid around her neck and urged her closer still, his thumbs working a sensuous kind of magic. “I remember every detail of every moment we spent together. Each time we made love proved more intense than the last. Don’t try to tell me you’ve forgotten.”

He pressed a silky kiss to her cheek, Nicole shivered as much from his words as from his kiss. “Stop,” she whispered hoarsely.

He stopped but didn’t pull away. His lips remained only a hairbreadth from her skin. “You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” she lied. Nicole didn’t have to look to know he smiled, she felt it. Electricity crackled between their heated bodies.

“And if I refuse?”

Nicole closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath. She shouldn’t have come to him. Did she really expect to be able to spend five minutes with the man and not want him? Only a few hours ago she had eluded death for the third time in less than two weeks. And right now all she could think about was how it would feel to make love with Ian again. To have him touch her in that slow, thorough manner of his. To have him whisper sweet things to her in that lightly accented voice. To make him believe that she hadn’t meant to hurt him three years ago—that she had only been doing her job.

What if she had died today?

Nicole blinked. She would never have had the opportunity to make things right with Ian. She lifted her gaze to his, watched the renewed desire turn those silvery depths to a deeper, gunmetal gray. One last night. They could have one last night together and then she would disappear from his life forever. She would face whatever the future held for her…alone. If death awaited, Nicole decided she would just have her taste of heaven now.

She moistened her lips and smiled up at him. “Well,” she said languorously as she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. “I suppose that leaves me with no choice.” Nicole slid her hands inside and over his muscled chest, the feel of that sculpted terrain making her weak with want. How she had missed him. No man would ever be able to make her feel the way Ian had. Would this thing between them still be as it once was—even after what she had done to him? Nicole cleared her mind. She didn’t want to think…she wanted to feel. To touch…to forget.

He remained absolutely still as she plunged her fingers into his long, dark hair and pulled his head down to hers. She nipped his lower lip with her teeth, then traced that sexy cleft in his chin with her tongue. He moved then. His hands slid over her shoulders and down her back, caressing, arousing her naked flesh. And then his mouth captured hers.

His kiss was slow, thorough, tantalizing, with a kind of erotic finesse only Ian possessed. Her heart thudding with anticipation, Nicole watched the intent expression on his face as he deepened the kiss. Then her eyes closed with the ecstasy she could no longer deny. Desire burst inside her like shattering glass, sending tiny shards of heat throughout her. Her head no longer hurt, her muscles no longer complained of their bruising. All conscious thought vanished. Ian’s masterful hands squeezed her bottom, then pulled her against his thick arousal. Nicole shuddered with the need now gripping every fiber of her being.

She wanted his bare skin against hers—now. Nicole jerked his shirt open, scattering the remaining buttons across the lush carpet. She reveled in the feel of his strong back as she slid the material down, then pressed her body to his. Smooth and hot. His skin singed hers as their bodies melded. Ian groaned his approval deep in his throat, the sound urging Nicole’s own frenzied desire. She tugged his shirt from his slacks, then slowly peeled it off his body.

He lifted her against him and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his lean waist. His mouth continued to torture hers, his tongue delving inside, tasting, tempting, then retreating. That slow in-and-out pace foreshadowing what she knew would come. Her legs tightened around him, pressing the moist heat between her thighs more firmly into his hardened length. This was what she had fantasized about a thousand times in the last three years.

Ian carried her to the bed and lowered her gently onto the tangled sheets. His body aligned over hers, he looked down at her, those amazing gray eyes analyzing her too closely. Nicole struggled to read the emotions cluttering his face. Sadness, maybe, or pain…almost. Had he missed her half as much as she had missed him? Did he want her as she wanted him?

“You do have a choice,” he said softly.

Nicole tried one last time to decipher that distant look in his eyes, but to no avail. “I know,” she whispered, then smiled. “I choose this.” She unbuttoned his fly, then lowered the zipper. His eyes closed on a tortured groan as she eased his slacks and briefs over his hips, then caressed him intimately. Her own need suddenly careened out of control. Instinctively her body arched against his, the resulting friction making her cry out with want. One solid yank was all it took for Ian to relieve her of the tiny, strappy panties.