Heaven in her Eyes Ch. 01-03

Inch by bare inch, he pulled it from under his jacket, quietly ratcheting the slide to put a bullet in the chamber before hiding it under his body. Shanna watched him, her golden eyes wide with fear.

"You aren't going to do anything stupid, are you?" she hissed. "They've got machine guns."

"Depends on what you think is stupid," he hissed back at her, his eyes on the two men. He scoped the room, searching out the other exits and doorways, finding where all the people were and where the old guard was, his body flat on the ground, his hands covering his head. He hadn't done anything to stop them when they'd come in and he wasn't making a sound now.

A woman and a little girl were sitting close to the robbers, their faces masks of terror as they stared up at them. The little girl was crying, the mother trying to get as much of her body over the girl's as she could. They were the ones Brandon would have to be most careful of. Within easy reach, they would make for fantastic hostages for two criminals trying to get away.

"Hurry up, bitch, get the damn bags filled!" The leader seemed agitated, he kept glancing around, looking out the big windows that framed the bank, his body tensed.

"Want me to find her, Joe?" the other robber asked.

"Don't fucking use my name! God, you dick wad, I knew I shouldn't have brought you with me. Yeah, find her. Remember, she's can't be touched. He's a cold son of a bitch." He slapped the younger guy on the back of his head, and his sunglasses fell off of his nose, only to hit the floor and bounce close to Shanna.

The kid, who couldn't have been more than nineteen years old, his face covered with acne and pot marked from old scars, bent over to get them. He looked over at Shanna, his eyes passing over her face and then coming right back to it. He stood, sliding the glasses back on his face. "Black hair, right Joe? Weird colored eyes, short with big boobs, ain't that what he said?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's what he said. You find her?"

Oh fuck, Brandon thought. He was about to get killed.

The kid reached down, grabbing Shanna's arm. "You're Shanna Clinton?" he asked her, dragging her up to her feet.

"Who?" Shanna squeaked.

Joe walked up, the bags in his hands. He reached over and back handed Shanna. "Don't give me that who shit. Answer his question," he growled.

Brandon, cursing his luck all the way, stood in one quick graceful movement, bringing his off duty weapon up. "Freeze, FBI," he shouted.

Chapter Two

For a moment, it was hard to determine who was the more surprised, the two bank robbers or Shanna. She hadn't expected Brandon to put himself in harm's way for her once more, last time he'd gotten hit on the head hard enough to knock him out. Now he was standing in front of two machine guns with one small pistol.

And one big cocky attitude.

"Let her go, now." His growl came from down deep and his size alone should have scared the two men. It did the kid, he dropped her arm and put his hands up in the air, even the one holding his gun. "Come here," he said to Shanna, not wanting to use her name.

Shanna slipped away from the two men, or at least she tried. The floor had been waxed the night before and her shoes had little traction. She took two steps and suddenly she was falling, her hand reaching out to grab whatever it could to stop her from hitting the ground.

What she grabbed was Brandon.

"Fuck," he growled, trying to keep his pistol pointed at the two men and grab a hold of Shanna at the same time. She hit his arm, jiggling it and knocking him off balance on the slippery floor. They both went down in a tumble of arms and legs, Shanna's elbow connecting solidly with Brandon's eye, her hip gouging into the sensitive area of his groin.

He heard shouts, heard the two men running but he couldn't see anything but stars. The pain in his groin sent a sickening thud to his stomach, which clenched in response making him feel like he was going to hurl. He managed to stave it off, but barely.

"Are you okay?" Shanna asked quickly, as she disentangled herself from the heat of his body.

"I may never have children," he gasped, rolling onto his side and lying there for a moment. "Did they get away?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Brandon," she said softly, terribly embarrassed. But she was also frightened. "Why were they looking for me?"

"I don't know, but I'm awfully curious to find out." He managed to sit up, pulling his legs under him and standing up just as the manager of the bank came out to him.

"Thank you," the manager gushed. "You startled them so badly, they left the bags of money behind," he said pointing at the bags still lying on the floor.

"Did someone call the cops?" Brandon asked, gently probing the area around his eye and finding it was already swelling.

"Yes, we hit the silent alarm as soon as they started shooting."

As if to punctuate the point, a black and white car came speeding up, squealing to a stop, two men dashing out of the car and up to the building with their guns drawn.

"You just missed them," the manager said, hurrying over to the two cops. "They took off running around the corner."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Shanna asked Brandon, putting her hand out to touch him, only to drop it when he flinched away from her.

"Fine," he said. "Did you recognize them?"

"You mean the two robbers? No, never saw either of them before. Someone told them to grab me, though."

"Could it have been your husband?" he asked, trying to ignore the heavy thud in his groin that matched the pounding in his head.

"Jackson wouldn't think to associate with someone low class, he wouldn't know how to speak to them," she said, though he could tell she was thinking about it. "Besides, he doesn't know where I am, remember, my lawyer has kept my whereabouts quiet."

"Shanna, come join us in the twenty-first century. It's easy to find people. If you use a credit card, or buy something on line, even if you pay your taxes, you can be found. Paper trails are everywhere, you just have to know how to sniff them out."

He turned and took her arms in his big hands. "If he wants to find you, he can do it. Do you have a restraining order out on him?"

"No, I never bothered. I never thought that he would come after me. Not like this anyway," she amended.

Brandon flipped the safety back on his pistol, sliding it back in its holster just seconds before the next black and white showed up. "We don't know it's him, so don't go freaking out or anything on me." He smiled down at her. "The locals are going to have questions, answer them the best you can."

He got out his identification, showing it to the officer who came up to ask him questions, trying to stay as close to Shanna as he could.

Shanna answered the questions that were fired at her, growing more frightened.

"Did you find them? The bank robbers? They'd know who hired them and why they we were trying to take me with them."

"We found them," the cop said grimly. "They aren't talking." He didn't tell her that the reason they weren't talking was because each of them had their throats slit. They'd been found in an alley still in their car. The young kid still had his hood up over his head.

"Then you need to make them talk," she said firmly. "I'm going through a sticky divorce right now, but I can't see my husband doing something like this."

Brandon heard the strain in her voice and reached out, taking her hand in his large one. He jerked a little as she twined her fingers with his, holding on to him like a lover would. "Ms. Clinton has been through a lot, officer. If you have the two suspects in custody, you shouldn't need her any longer."

"It's Sergeant Ford, actually and we do need her, Agent...Austin," he said, glancing down at his notes. "The two suspects were found dead, their throats brutally sliced just about a block from here."

"D...dead," Shanna repeated, her face turning ghostly pale.

"Yes. Now if you know anything or can think of anyone who has anything against you, Ms. Clinton, it would be best if you tell us now."

"M...my husband and I are going through legal proceedings, sir. We're getting divorced. It's not an amicable split." She stared down at where she was holding onto Brandon's hand, noticing that his fingers were white since she was squeezing so hard. But he hadn't made a sound indicating that she was hurting him. She relaxed her grip but didn't release him, instead, holding on with her other hand too.

"Is the agent here responsible for the split up?" the sergeant asked, gazing with interest at their joined hands.

"No," Brandon said, coming to Shanna's defense. "I'm a friend of the families. I saw her eating lunch in the park and stopped to talk with her. Then I walked her back to work."

"Who's your husband, Ms. Clinton?"

"Senator Jackson Clinton," Shanna said miserably. "He's in Washington D.C. at the moment. I can't see him orchestrating anything like this."

"No telling what some of them political people will do," the sergeant said under his breath. He wrote down the information including the name of Shanna's lawyer.

"You might want to spend a few days with some friends, ma'am, until we get this whole thing figured out." He nodded his head at her, leaving her in Brandon's care.

"Damn," she muttered, coloring slightly as she felt Brandon's hand come up under her arm, drawing her away from the rest of the police and crime scene people who had tied off the front of the bank with yellow tape.

"Can you stay with Hunt and Angel?" he asked her softly.

"I could, but I refuse to let that man scare me like this. Dammit, Brandon. I was just starting to get my life back." She turned, smacking him with her hand. "Why do you men have to be such arrogant jerks?"

"Maybe it's because you women are all stubborn and bring out the worst in us," he shot back before forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to apologize because this isn't the time to argue. I talked to your boss and you've got the afternoon off. Why don't you gather your things and I'll take you over to Hunt's house?"

"I'm not going to Hu...Aaron's house," she said slowly as if explaining to a child. "I'll go home. I've got locks on my door and a doorman, Brandon. Aaron made sure that the apartment was in a safe area and that it had good security. I'll be okay."

"Get your stuff, we'll talk about it after that," he said, his tone declaring that she shouldn't argue with him now.

She went, but she was determined to get her own way about this, even if she had to go through him to do it.

* * * *

His hand cupped her full breast, slipping over the turgid nipple that had darkened to a deep rose due to her pregnancy. He heard her moan, smiling darkly as he trailed his lips over the line of her shoulder, lifting her arm over his head so that he could find the skin of her ribs.

"I love you, Mrs. Hunter," he whispered, pressing his naked body against her back and hearing her moan.

"I love you, Mr. Hunter," she breathed huskily, caught in the hazy web of passion that he seemed to weave so easily around her. His fingers teased her nipple and she caught her breath as the pleasurable sensations sent waves of heat to her loins, drenching her in sweet moisture. Her arousal perfumed the air around them, and she felt as much as heard his groan. "I want you, baby," she said, arching against his fingers, her naked hips pressing against his groin.

She could feel him, hot and heavy, his erection a solid force sliding against her ass. She moved against him, caressing him with every undulation even as his hand slid down over the rounded mound of her stomach, slipping between her slender thighs to dally against her wet flesh.

Angel lifted her leg, letting it slide over the hair roughened thigh of her husband who growled at the lurid invitation. "Do you want me, baby?" she asked him, giving him a heated glance from over her shoulder.

"Oh, give me a minute to think about that," he groaned, shifting his hips and rubbing the shaft of his cock against her wet sex. "God, yes, I want you, more everyday. I don't know how I managed that month you were gone," he groaned, his hips moving slowly as he felt her heated juices drenching him. "I'll want you when I have to chase you around with my cane."

"Yeah, but what will we do the week after next," she giggled, hearing his growl and then feeling his hands come down to capture her hips. He held her still, moving so that the head of his cock brushed over her clit. He tortured her like that, listening to her whimper and then moan, finally begging him to fuck her.

"I don't know," he growled. "I might be too old to be able to satisfy you."

"No, oh no, you're not too old," she whimpered, trying to move to force him inside of her but he held her still. "You are the most studly of men."

"Studly? Come on, Angel, you can do better," he whispered in her ear, breathing softly and feeling her shiver as goose flesh spread over her skin.

"You are a god, better looking than any man I've ever seen, better in bed than any man I've ever had..." she had to laugh as he growled again, nipping her neck with his teeth.

"I'm the only man you've ever had," he whispered, changing the direction of his hips and pushing easily inside of her. Her heat surrounded him, the soft wetness of her velvety passage sheathed him tightly. The feeling was amazing, only with this woman had he ever felt this level of pleasure, this level of commitment, this kind of love.

He moved against her, slipping his hand between her thighs, his fingers stroking over her clit. He loved feeling her like this, the way she responded to his every move, his every touch, the way she moaned his name when her pleasure took her, her body clenching around him. He loved the sound of her moans, the soft exhale she gave when he drew her to him afterward. He loved everything about her.

He couldn't believe he'd almost lost her.

His eyes trailed down, over the smooth muscles of her back, finding the rough scar that showed where the bullet had torn through her body, coming out and burying itself inside the portrait of her and her mother and then through to the wall. He'd come so close to losing her, so close to having her torn away from him before he really knew what she meant to him. Everything.

The thought of that wound, of the days that followed and then the weeks of trying to get over her hounded him, driving his hips desperately into hers. His body arched, pushing deeper, his fingers moving furiously, dragging her ever onward, pushing her towards her peak with an almost ferocious zeal.

Angel could hear his ragged breathing, feel the frantic pace he set even as her passions soared. She knew deep inside what drove him to such urgency and her hand slipped down, cupping his fingers, drawing them over the bud of her clit, as anxious as he to renew the pleasure the two shared.

She felt the first blush of that pleasure as a rapturous gasp, then scalding waves of heat prickled her skin sending shudders of ecstasy through her. Her velvety soft muscles contracted around him, clutching him inside her, pulsating against the sensitive skin of his cock.

He groaned as she came, feeling the rush of her pleasure soak his skin, tipping his head back and crying out as his own followed, filling her with the heat of his seed even as he moaned her name.

Angel felt limp, her body heavy, unable to even murmur as he gathered her close, dragging her against his chest. His lips caressed her temple, nuzzling into the fiery curls of her hair. "Am I too old, baby?" he whispered, his voice full of arrogance, making her laugh.

She opened her mouth to answer, interrupted by a soft serenade of bells.

"Damn," Hunter grouched, reaching across her to drag his shirt from where she'd dropped it earlier. He picked up his cell phone, checking the display.

"Two calls in one day, Bran? What, did you get thrown in jail again?" He laughed, only to moan when Angel pulled away, his cock pulling out of her heat.

"Very funny, Hunt, did I catch you at a bad time? You sound like you're in pain?" Brandon paced back and forth while he spoke, staring up at Shanna's apartment building. She was sitting in her car, fuming, because Brandon refused to let her go up to her apartment by herself.

"Just moving some heavy stuff around, nothing major," he said, laughing when Angel turned and glared at him as she maneuvered her rounded body out of the bed and reached for her robe. Her eyes promised retribution even as she got up and headed into the bathroom to turn on the shower. "So what did you call for this time, buddy?"

"It's your sister, Hunt. You need to talk some sense into her." He sat on the hood of her car, ignoring her outraged look. "She's in trouble and I'm only trying to help her but she won't listen."

"What's going on? It's not Sebastian," he said, quickly lowering his voice. He didn't want his wife to hear her father's named mentioned. Not now, not this close to her due date.

"No, as far as I know, that ass is behind bars where he belongs. No, I think this has to do with her husband," he said, then told him what had happened today, ending with where they were. "She wants to go and stay in her own apartment as if nothing's happened. I just didn't think you'd like that." He jumped when a hand reached out, taking the phone away from him. His hand grabbed the wrist, twisting it and hearing a very feminine squeal.

"Shit, Shanna, don't do that to me!" he growled, releasing her wrist and letting her keep his phone. "I could have hurt you."

"Touch me again and I will hurt you," she snarled, rubbing her wrist before speaking into the phone. "Shush, Aaron, I'm fine. Brandon just tried to go all Rambo on me because I stole his phone from him." She listened for a minute. "No," she said, speaking as firmly as she could. "I don't need a keeper, either you or him. Don't even think of getting Angel in on this, she's too far along to deal with the stress."

"No," she said again, after listening to him talk for a few minutes longer. "No, he doesn't need...okay but...wait...fine," she said finally, turning and tossing the phone to Brandon before crossing her arms across her chest and glowering at him.

"Hey Hunt, what'd you say to her?" Brandon was afraid he was about to go up in flames, and not the kind he'd been accrediting to Shanna recently. The look she gave him was full of anger and annoyance.

"Could you do me a favor and check out her place for me?" Hunter asked him.

"She's a grown up and I gotta respect her wishes to a point. But since you are already there, would it hurt for you to check it out?"

"No, that's cool. I'll take her up and then let her doorman know to watch anyone asking for her." He spoke for a few more minutes, finally closing up the phone and dumping it in the pocket of his jacket.

"This is stupid," Shanna said, starting across the parking lot, purse in hand, toward her apartment. "I've lived here for almost five months now and I've never had a bit of trouble. It's completely safe." She grumbled and grouched all the way up the three floors in the elevator. She dug her keys out of her purse, heading down a brightly lit hallway that was painted a pale yellow with light colored wood on the lower half of the wall.

"This is nice," he said.

Shanna glared at him, turning the key on her door and pushing it open. She started to step inside, opening her mouth to say something to him when Brandon grabbed her arm.

"Wait here," he said, his voice low and serious. He stepped by her, pulling his pistol out of its holster.

She turned her head, her eyes widening at the mess that had been her orderly apartment just that morning. From the hallway she could see the mess made from her plant that had been overturned, the pots that she'd picked out with such care had been crushed against the wall, shards of pottery littering the carpet. The small table she'd put in her hallway was on its side, two of the three legs were broken, the pictures she'd placed upon it as well as the small tray to hold her keys were crushed, frames twisted, the pictures ripped to shreds.