Tempting the Fire Read online

Page 13


  “Those are words to live by.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to be the optimist of the group. On my team, that was my role. Loved my job.”

  “I can tell.”

  “What about you?”

  “My job is … it’s just a job. And somehow, it’s also my entire life. My world. I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It makes sense if you’re lonely.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him she was just fine, but all that came out was a small sob. Horrified, she turned away and sat on the cot, her back to him, and pulled herself together. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know you bite your bottom lip when you get nervous. I know you twirl your hair when you’re amused. And when you get shy, your smile is lopsided.”

  How had he noticed those little things about her? No man beyond Devlin had known so much about her, and that had taken a long time to happen. She’d been so busy under a fog of lust, so busy wondering why she hadn’t fallen head over heels for Chance, she hadn’t taken much time to notice anything about him.

  He was rubbing her back. She wiped the tears away with a fisted hand and whispered, “I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

  “Ah, is that how it works? I’ve never done well with being fussed over.”

  She leaned back against him and he put his arms around her. They stayed like that until he said, “Marlena, it’s time. You need to leave me. Go to your tent and just stay there, okay?” She turned to him, the pained look on his face heartbreaking. “Please. Make this easy on me.”

  How could she deny him that? She twined her fingers through his hair, drew him in for a deep kiss. And when she broke away, she couldn’t say anything, for fear of crying. So she forced herself to smile at him before she left the tent, and then she hurried across the compound to the smaller tent where Sela had found her last night, and watched out the window.

  If she couldn’t be with him, she could at least keep an eye on his tent and hope he remained safe.

  She put a hand to her belly to quell the butterflies—butterflies—at the thought of Chance. Her heart raced, her face warmed, and although she was afraid for him, what she felt most definitely went beyond fear. Beyond lust. Sure, when she was with him, that pull was unmistakable. But this …

  This was what caring deeply for someone was really like when it happened naturally instead of as the result of a malicious curse. The feelings were there, inside her, not circling just outside her grasp or crushing her with artificial intensity.

  And so Chance—part man, part beast—was part of her mission, and she might be mated to him for life … but there was now the strong possibility that she was actually also able to fall in love with him.

  She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, and so she did both.

  LOGAN SLID HIS HANDS ALONG SELA’S SHOULDER. “DAMN, you’re all knotted up.”

  “That’s what happens when you get slammed against a tree,” she said dryly, but there was no complaint in her voice. Girl was tough.

  Girl was hot.

  He let his fingers slip under the crew neck of her T-shirt, skin on skin, and she let out a moan she didn’t bother to muffle. “You have magic hands.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, continuing the massage until she became relaxed, nearly purring.

  God, he wanted her. Needed her. And there was no way they were leaving this cave without him taking her at least once, maybe twice, and closer to four times, because they had an entire night ahead of them. A nice, long, dark night, and a nice, cool cave, which would require body heat.

  His erection pressed into her lower back and he made no attempt to hide it. She leaned against him and a harsh groan rose in his throat. The friction was good, really goddamned good, and she knew it.

  She turned into him then, and he tightened his arms around her, and without preamble, he kissed her—a deep, hot kiss that reverberated through his body. She tugged at his T-shirt, and the feel of her hands on his shoulders was like licks of fire along his skin. He hadn’t had such a heightened reaction to a woman since he’d been fitted with the bioware, didn’t think he was capable of feeling so good … or feeling much of anything.

  Her hands were in his hair now, twisted there to keep him from pulling away as the intensity between them built. He wanted her so much, and not just physically. His emotions were actually functioning, and it was odd and crazy and wonderful.

  It had been so long—he couldn’t remember wanting this badly. Truthfully, before the accident and the bioware, he’d taken arousal and the swirl of emotions that came with it for granted.

  He hadn’t realized what he’d been missing—and he had no idea why it had returned now, with Sela, but hell, he was going to enjoy it.

  She shifted her hips against him, ankles catching together behind his lower back, and was kissing him as if her life depended on it.

  Everything fucking depended on him—getting the chupacabra for Itor Corp, thus saving a major contract for GWC, figuring out what the hell to do about Chance, keeping Sela alive …

  She’d pulled back, took his face in her hands. “Now’s not the time to be thinking.”

  “That’s one of the smartest things you’ve ever said.”

  “You’re just lucky you’re sexy.”

  “Yes … lucky.” Quickly, he skimmed her shirt off, had her in his arms in seconds, his tongue flicking an already hardened nipple. She buried her face in his hair as she rocked against him and he could come this way—didn’t want to, but he could easily.

  He tore his mouth away for a second. “Are you wet for me, baby?”

  “Mmmmm.”

  He tugged the nipple between his teeth and she groaned. He sucked again, hard, and she brought his hand between her thighs and began to rub there. “Logan, the things you make me want to do … you have no idea.”

  He had an idea—many, many ideas. Including her hot sex sheathing his cock tightly—and oh, yeah, he needed that, and soon. Could take her any way and every way she wanted, pictured her up against the wall and under him and on him, and all of those ways included him coming inside of her. “Tell me, then.”

  “I want to feel you, inside me, filling me. Making me scream.”

  “Consider it done, Sela.” His hand slipped inside the front of her pants, but he couldn’t get far enough down to touch.

  “I want to feel how wet you are. I want to see it. Smell it. Taste it. Take your clothes off for me—all of them.” His voice was husky now, thick with lust, and when she stripped her pants and thong off, he drew a slow breath at her beauty.

  She had the kind of toned, slim body that was still lush enough to bring a man to his knees. He was already long past that. And when she walked back to him, he grabbed her hips and brought her sex to his mouth, licked her wet heat while her soft moans bounced off the cave walls. His tongue probed her clit—it was hard and throbbing and he knew he could push her over the edge easily.

  He buried his face against her, sucked and lapped until everything was sticky and sweet and she was grabbing at him hard as she came.

  He continued to kiss his way down her thighs while she rested her hands on top of his head and then she was ordering him to strip. He barely got his pants unbuttoned before she was straddling him.

  He didn’t have time to get completely out of his BDUs, and they remained open as she took him inside of her. Her back arched and she let out a low keening moan that bounced off the stone walls and echoed beyond.

  He needed to tell her to keep it down, not to draw attention to their hiding place, but he loved watching her, hearing her …

  He was making her crazy and happy and pleasured and it made him swell with a primal pride. “Ride me, Sela.”

  And she did, hands on his shoulders, a fierce, sexy smile of pleasure as she took him—and oh, yes, it had been years since sex had been this good.

  He buried his face against her breasts as his balls tigh
tened—and as she cried out in a release, he prepared to lose himself in her.

  “DEAR … GOD.” SELA’S ENTIRE BODY SHOOK WITH PLEASURE as she came down from an orgasm that had blasted her apart right to each individual cell.

  Since she’d been at ACRO, sex with men had been about the job, about their orgasms. She’d faked hers, partly because the guys she’d fucked had been scum she could barely pretend to be attracted to, and partly because when she came, she was too busy concentrating on her pleasure to get a good read on her partner.

  But Logan was different. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen, and for once, having sex for the job wasn’t a hardship.

  Beneath her, Logan surged, his big body arching and retreating as he held her hips so she was at the mercy of his thrusts. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.” His voice was ragged and raw, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

  Her sex was still clenching around his thick cock, her tissues sensitive and swollen and ready for another release. But Logan had the control of a machine, and he ceased moving, lay there motionless. Even his breathing was slow and steady, and the only visible sign that he was turned on was the fine sheen of sweat that coated his throat, making the straining tendons stand out.

  She so wanted to lick it right off him.

  “Lean back. Brace yourself with your arms.” His command shot through her in a shiver of excitement.

  Unsure what he had planned, she put her palms flat on the ground behind her, making her spine arch and her thighs spread wide. His heavy-lidded gaze dropped to where they were joined, and … ah, she got it. He wanted to watch his shaft slide in and out, wanted to create their own little porn show.

  The idea got her wildly hot, and she felt a warm rush between her legs. His thumb dragged through her slit, spreading her cream up to her clit.

  “Tell me what you see,” she said, and his eyes darkened even more.

  “You’re so wet,” he said roughly. “You’re swollen and pink, and your juice is making my cock glisten.”

  She moaned as his words sparked the beginnings of another orgasm. Crazy, since they were both utterly motionless. Motionless until he began that maddeningly slow sweep of his thumb again. Her clit pulsed with need every time he skimmed it. She whimpered and rolled her hips in an attempt to catch his maddening, fleeting touch, but he grasped her thighs and held her still.

  “Don’t move.” His voice was a hot whisper as he held her in that exposed position and thrust up. Slowly. Deliciously. His retreat was just as prolonged, and at the same time he lifted her so the head of his cock nearly came free.

  Again he thrust and drew back, with the same torturous, lagging strokes, all the while watching their joining. His cock stretched her opening so she could feel every texture along the shaft, the velvet skin, the firm, ropy veins, the ribbed striations of muscle. Shuddering with pleasure, she ground against him, clenching her sheath around his erection.

  With a groan, he picked up the pace and pumped into her with increasing strength and speed until the quick-time double slap of his ass against the cave floor and his legs against her butt echoed off the rock walls in an erotic soundtrack.

  Still he watched as he fucked her hard, his expression intense and dark. Fire burst in her belly, spreading through her pelvis so fast she couldn’t stop the orgasm. It crashed into her and she cried out as Logan did the same. She felt him swell and pulse, and he kicked his head back as the pleasure took him.

  Fuck … she bit her lip, forced herself to let go of the physical sensations in order to get inside his head and get a read while his shields were down.

  It happened quickly—his thoughts swirled in a jumbled mass, but once again, they were all of a personal nature. More images of childhood, and then the military—a few things she was pretty sure were secret missions, but nothing that was relevant to her mission. There was a fight with a friend … he’d accused his buddy of fucking his girlfriend, but he’d been mistaken; scowling, she pushed harder, because he was jerking beneath her with the last spasms of pleasure.

  Again, she ran into a wall that was much more solid than any psychic could put up. It didn’t feel like a psychic wall at all. Didn’t have the soft give. Truly, it was as though her mental probe struck a titanium shell around his mind.

  And then there was nothing. His orgasm had faded away, along with her ability to get a read. Confused and exhausted, she fell forward and collapsed against his chest. For a couple of heartbeats, he lay there, frozen, as if he didn’t know what to do, and then his arms came around her.

  The intimacy should have bothered her—would bother her later—but right now she only wanted to rest. To revel in the feel of a connection with someone, something she hadn’t experienced in … well, never. Maybe they could lie like this for a while. No talking, no thinking. Just enjoying basic human contact.

  Oh, man, she was seriously thrown off her game here.

  Logan drew in a ragged breath. “Get off me.”

  “I don’t have the strength,” she muttered.

  He went taut beneath her. “Now.”

  The hard tone of his voice startled her, and she lifted her head to see what the hell was wrong with him, but he didn’t give her the chance. Roughly, he shoved her off him so she was left sitting in the dirt.

  Humiliation spread like a sunburn from her cheeks to her entire body as she grabbed for her pants. Clearly, his thoughts hadn’t taken him down the same connection trail she’d been on. The rejection stung with poisoned memories; she’d seen her mother completely trashed by men she’d slept with. “What got up your ass?”

  He picked up the glow stick and moved toward the rear of the cave. “I need to clean up.”

  Like she was dirty or something. Shaking with anger, she jumped to her feet. “What? You can’t just—”

  He wheeled around. “I need a minute. Give me a goddamned minute, okay?”

  She felt her jaw go slack, and had no idea how to respond, which wasn’t normal. At all.

  Logan closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “Jesus. I’m sorry, okay? I just … I need a second.” He spun back around and stalked off.

  Sela stood there in the last, faint rays of sunlight, confused and pissed. Once he was out of sight, she did what any agent in her situation would do. She followed him.

  Silently, she crept toward the back of the cave, hoping the trickling water would mask the sound of her footsteps. It didn’t mask the squeaks of bats and the skitter of unidentifiable creatures in the cave, however. She just hoped none of the creatures were poisonous. Or huge.

  She eased up to the bend and carefully peeked around the damp wall of stone, expecting to catch him taking a piss or maybe washing himself in the tiny pool.

  None of the above. Holy shit, Logan had taken off his shirt and was injecting himself with the black sludge, like she’d seen him doing last night. Except his arm, the one he’d said hadn’t taken a bullet, was … shredded. A bullet had definitely struck him in the triceps—or what should have been his triceps.

  There was nothing there but metal. Metal and wires, instead of veins and muscle.

  She must have made a noise, maybe a gasp, because his head whipped around. Fury lit up his face as he threw down the syringe and crushed it beneath his foot.

  “I told you—”

  “Yeah, you told me,” she snapped. “You fucked me and then tossed me off of you like I was a whore you picked up while drunk, and now you’re sober and have realized what you’ve done. So fuck you. And fuck you for being so secretive about this. So you have a fucking artificial arm. You think you’re the only person on the planet who has lost a limb?” Except she got the feeling this went way deeper than just a limb, and she also suspected that his arm was no ordinary piece of machinery.

  “It’s a hell of a lot more than that,” he growled, confirming her suspicions.

  “So does this have something to do with your diabetes?” For some reason the fact that he’d lied to her about that rankled. Hurt, even. God,
she’d actually believed him! The knowledge that she’d basically forgotten all her ACRO training and believed a bad guy fried her temper to a crisp. It was definitely time to get back on track and do her damned job. “Is there anything else you’ve lied to me about?”

  He stalked toward her, fists clenched and eyes sparking. “Excuse me for not telling a complete fucking stranger that I’m half machine.”

  Half? Jesus. “I … ah … Are you serious?”

  “No!” he shouted. “I always tell that to the whores I pick up while drunk.” He raised his arms, and alarm shot through her, an instant of panic she regretted but couldn’t stop, and she flinched, brought her hands up to shield her face.

  When no blow fell, she risked a peek at him, and instantly wished she hadn’t. He looked … devastated. Pale and worried.

  “Sela?” His voice cracked. “Hey, I’m sorry.” He eased toward her, but she shook her head, smiled like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just had a flashback to her near death.

  “It’s okay. I got spooked. You know, dark, scary cave.” Skepticism flashed in his eyes, but she aimed for distraction by grabbing his hand and turning his arm to expose his injury. “Now,” she said firmly, “tell me about this.”

  CHAPTER

  Eleven

  They took him sometime in the late afternoon. Chance had been in a restless, fevered sleep because, although he’d let Marlena go willingly, his inner chupa seemed to know it was still a forced separation.

  He’d barely heard the footsteps, the hushed voices. Then he’d felt something sharp in his arm and had woken up again strapped to a stretcher, with an overhead light shining into his eyes.

  He’d told himself it would happen, but nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

  A steel band ran across his forehead, so he couldn’t even turn to see what was going on around him.

  And Christ, the pain … He could handle pain, it came with his job, but holy mother of God, it hadn’t been like this.