Her Cold-Blooded Mercenary

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Her Cold-Blooded Mercenary Page 15

by Lea Linnett


  “You know I can handle a bit more than your human men can, right?”

  “I’m sure you can, but Kirena’s a strong liquor.”

  “Is that why it’s your favorite?” he asked, leaning into the table. His mouth opened in a grin, his flat tongue darting out to lick along his strange, short teeth. “You like the stuff that’s hard to swallow?”

  She held his gaze, ignoring the flush his words—and the display—brought to her cheeks. “It’s why I take it easy when drinking it,” she said, lifting her own drink. It was only her third in the two or so hours they’d been talking, and while the whiskey was warm in her belly, relaxing her limbs and easing the tension she’d held since arriving at the flophouse, she still felt in control.

  She took a sip, placing the cup on the table with a steady hand, and raised her eyebrows at him.

  “I’ll admit you surprised me,” Kamanek said, valiantly fighting the slur in his voice. “You’ve barely winced. You haven’t been drinking straight senathar all night, have you?”

  “You think I’d pass up a bottle of Kirena?” she asked, her mouth pulling up at the corner. “You don’t know me very well.”

  “I’d like to know you.” He rested his cheek in his palm, gazing at her with half-lidded eyes. “I’d like to know every inch of you.”

  “All right,” she said, standing abruptly. “You’ve really had enough. Get up.”

  “Get up?”

  “I wanna see how bad it is.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, and the imitation of her was so near perfect that she had to force back a laugh. But he stood up nonetheless, only swaying slightly once he reached his full height.

  For a moment, she thought maybe she’d called it too early, but then he took a step towards the bathroom and wobbled precariously. She ducked beneath his arm and grunted, almost buckling beneath his weight. Miraculously, they stayed upright, and Kamanek blinked down at her.

  “Sorry.”

  “S’fine,” she bit out. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  He made an unhappy sound, but he allowed her to steer him the short distance to the cot. It was like trying to lift a statue, the levekk not trying very hard to assist her, and his scaled arm was cool and smooth against her shoulders. She had a hand on his stomach, and soon found herself preoccupied with the tight muscles that shifted beneath her fingers. He really could have been carved from levekk metal, his body rippling with natural muscle that a human would have had to work tirelessly to maintain.

  Despite her toes gripping the plastic floor and her knees bent to accommodate him, Kamanek’s landing on the cot was awkward. He used her as a pivot, pushing her off-balance, and by the time his ass met the cot, Taz’s foot had slipped out from under her, and it was him catching her.

  Large hands held her steady, and she looked up to find them face to face, her hand resting on his collarbone. She froze, warring with herself as his smooth fingertips traced the lines of her biceps.

  They were both silent, drinking each other in with flickering gazes. A few days earlier, Taz probably would have punched him for the gentle touches that now sent shivers up her spine. His legs brushed hers, bracketing her body and making her feel small, but still she felt strangely safe. Just like in the alley, she knew she could step back anytime she wanted…

  But she didn’t want to, she realized, her eyes widening just slightly. Her heart picked up its pace in her chest, racing faster now than the heavy pulse she felt beneath her fingers.

  Kamanek caught the change in her, his blown out pupils sharpening slightly. “Some bodyguard you are,” he teased. “Couldn’t even get me safe to bed without falling over.”

  She blinked in surprise, before glancing away and fighting down a smile. “Not much I can do when my ‘co-pilot’ can’t even stay upright.”

  “What an asshole,” he said with a grin. “You should fire him.”

  “I can’t. He’s the only one who’s got my back right now.”

  The words slipped out of her, and she snapped her mouth shut. Was that really how she felt? With the Lodestars nowhere to be found and Cara hundreds of miles away, had Kamanek begun to seem like her only ally?

  His gaze dropped deliberately to her lips, one of his hands moving to her waist, and Taz leaned in closer. She longed for him to kiss her, she realized, for him to close the distance between them and take it from her. They were mere inches away from each other, the heady smell of Kirena and senathar wafting between them, and he would only need to turn his head and lean in.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he stared at her, his river green of his irises stretched thin by his enlarged pupils.

  “Are you not going to…?”

  …Kiss me?

  She cut off the needy whisper before it could fully form, appalled that it had escaped her at all. She dug her fingers into his collarbone, her other hand clenching into a fist at her side. One of Kamanek’s hands ran along her arm and found it, and teased it open with blunt claws, threading their fingers together.

  “If I kiss you,” he rumbled, the sound traveling through her body and making her heart stutter, “I won’t be able to stop.”

  Her breath hitched, her mind filling with images full of promise.

  “And I meant what I said. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  The words sounded almost painful to him, and that was what made her come to her senses. She pulled back, ashamed that out of the two of them, he’d proven more responsible than her even after drinking over half a bottle of whiskey.

  He didn’t try to stop her as she backed out of his grasp, but that didn’t stop Taz from feeling empty when his hands left her. She ducked her head under his scrutiny, grabbing his cup from the table. “I’ll get you some water,” she muttered.

  When she returned from the bathroom, she handed him the cup quickly and retreated back to the window, where she tucked herself into its corner.

  Kamanek took a long draught, before placing it on the floor beside the cot. “Thank you,” he said, sounding slurred again. “I think I might—” He paused, yawning. “Might sleep.”

  She nodded at him, eyes already on the window. “See you in the morning.”

  He didn’t argue, or try to pry her away from the bench again, just laid back and turned over onto his side. In less than a minute, the soft sound of his breathing evened out, and she knew he was asleep.

  The whiskey sat warm in her belly now, layering over the deep ache of her arousal as it throbbed low in her core. She wanted the levekk lying just a few feet away from her more than she’d wanted anyone else in all her life. Even if she hadn’t been tipsy enough to admit it, it was hard to deny the slick feeling when she crossed her legs, the throbbing heat.

  But she couldn’t have him. She focused on steadying her breathing, on watching the warehouse below, but the light had faded while they drank. The gray tones of the warehouse district blended together, the warehouse’s lights not yet lit, and it made it hard to concentrate. The more she tried, the more the exhaustion crept up on her.

  Slowly, the sugary energy from the senathar seeped away, leaving only the heavy, intoxicating Kirena behind, and her eyelids began to droop. The window seemed to almost cradle her, the metal windowpane cupping her spine as she curled into the glass.

  Before she knew it, her mind was wandering, first into warm daydreams about Kamanek’s hands on her skin, and then deeper into sleep, the window forgotten.

  17

  Kamanek awoke the next morning to a splitting headache and a surprisingly empty stomach. It had only been a few days since he last ate, but his stomach craved a defense against the nausea, so after downing some pain-killers he kept in his bag, he left the flophouse in search of more sanniches.

  He left Taz sleeping with her head against the window, not daring to disrupt her slumber, but his thoughts wouldn’t abandon her so easily. It had taken everything he had to reject her advances the night before. Every nerve in his body, every instinct, had told him to pull her close an
d crush his mouth to hers, to take everything he’d been wanting from her softly parted lips.

  But he couldn’t. If he’d taken what she offered then, he would always have wondered if it was truly what she wanted. Even through the whiskey, he’d known he could never bear that. Still, he hated to push her away…

  They needed to talk.

  He fetched the sanniches quickly, striding back to the flophouse with purpose. But when he returned to their small room at the rear of the building, it was to find a freshly-showered Taz pacing the room, her red skin blotched with irritation and her lips set in a thin line.

  “Where have you been?”

  He held up the sanniches. “I thought we could both use some sustenance.”

  “Well, why didn’t you wake me before you left?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “Because I felt you needed the rest.”

  “But no one was watching the window!”

  “So? Has something changed?”

  Taz’s dark eyebrows furrowed. “No, but—”

  “Then don’t worry about it,” Kamanek said, chucking a sannich at her. “Do you have a hangover? There’s painkillers if you need them.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she said, looking exasperatedly down at the packaged food in her hands. “Aren’t you concerned about what we could have missed?”

  He moved to the bench, unwrapping one of the sanniches and taking a bite. “No. I’m more concerned about what would have happened if we hadn’t taken a break. Your body couldn’t have continued functioning much longer without sleep, and if your friends arrive and we decide to infiltrate that warehouse?” He took another bite. “I’d rather you were well-rested.”

  “It’s not your job to decide when I do or don’t need rest!”

  “It is when you refuse to take care of yourself. Besides, you didn’t seem very worried about the window last night.”

  “That’s entirely different!”

  Kamanek closed his eyes, growing frustrated. He loved Taz’s wildness, and her fire. He loved how she held fast under attack, refusing to back down from a fight, especially when others were in danger. But that protective nature didn’t seem to extend to her own well-being, and for some reason, that infuriated him. “I don’t think this is about the window, at all,” he said, meeting her eye.

  Taz froze, her fists clenched. “What?”

  “I think this is about what happened last night. What you wanted,” he said, placing his sannich aside and rising to his feet.

  She scoffed. “What I wanted? I didn’t want anything.”

  He drew in close to her, tracing the back of her arm as he had the night before. There were tiny hairs there, too small to see, and they danced under his touch. “That’s not how I remember it,” he murmured. “I remember you leaning into my arms. I remember you touching me.” He took the sannich from her, tossing it onto the table, and took her hand in his. He placed it on his collarbone, feeling his muscles relax under her warm palm, and Taz’s strange, round pupils dilated.

  “I…”

  He knew he was being bold, but he didn’t care. Taz was so wrapped up in her anger that he didn’t think she would allow herself to experience anything softer. She thought the only way to protect herself and others was to be tough, but there was more to life than fighting. “I admire you,” he said. “You’re wild, unpredictable. You take your work seriously. But you deserve a chance to enjoy the life you fight so hard for every day. You’re allowed to take what you want, Taz.”

  Her dark eyes dropped to his lips, her pink tongue darting out to wet her own. “And you think what I want is you?”

  He began with the hand on his chest, tickling his claws between her knuckles and watching her small intake of breath. “I do. I see the heat in your eyes, the way your body shivers under my touch. And last night…”

  “You’re so full of yourself,” she whispered.

  “But am I wrong?” His fingers explored her arm, making her jump when his claws brushed along the crook of her elbow.

  Taz let out a shaky sigh, her gaze flickering over his face. “No.”

  “Then why? Why not take what you want?”

  She bit her lip. “I was taught to hate your kind,” she murmured. “You invaded our planet. Your people come here all the time and take what they want without a care for the humans that suffer for it.”

  “I’m not my people,” he said, brushing her wild hair away from her cheek with a thumb. “And I’ll never be like them. I’ll never take anything you don’t want to give, and I won’t kiss you now unless you tell me you want it.”

  Taz searched his face, so still she barely seemed to be breathing. He couldn’t read the flood of emotions behind her eyes, but he did feel her fingers press a little closer to his skin, caressing his collarbone experimentally. His heart pounded beneath it when she slid lower, and her lips gently parted.

  Their gazes locked. “I want it,” she said fiercely, and Kamanek shuddered.

  He didn’t get a chance to make the first move. A warm hand wrapped around the back of his neck, yanking him towards her, and then her warm mouth crushed against his. Her lips were soft and plump, and they melted against his own, but the pressure of her mouth was unforgiving. Their bodies were flush, her hands clutching at him as she explored his mouth with her warm, wet tongue, and this was as much a battle as the day they met.

  And Kamanek refused to go easy on her a second time. He wrapped his arms around her smaller body, almost lifting her off her feet, and took control of the kiss. He fought for purchase, drawing a small moan from her as he licked inside and ran his coarser tongue along hers. At first, he was distracted by the size of her teeth, which were larger than his own, but he soon forgot about it when she sucked him deeper, threatening to devour him.

  His hands traced her body while they explored each other. She was wearing that tight undershirt again, and he hooked his fingers beneath it, sliding them over the feather-soft skin of her hips. It seemed unnatural, for a warrior to feel so delicate, but he knew better than to assume weakness. Yes, her flesh was fragile, but Taz’s strength came from her ability to avoid injury altogether, through skill.

  He brushed his fingertips higher, loving how her breath hitched as he touched her belly, her clothed breasts, her sharp collarbone. Then, he swept the shirt over her head, pulling back to drink in the slender muscles of her torso, the gentle curves of her breasts and waist. Taz heaved in air, her hands darting to the catch on his trousers, but he stopped her.

  “What?” she snapped, and Kamanek tried not to be distracted by the rise and fall of her chest. “I thought you wanted this?”

  He chuckled. “I do, but I also want to savor it. We’re going to take it slow.”

  “You’re so frustrating,” she complained, pulling against his grip on her wrists just enough to test it.

  “And you’re impatient,” he said, smiling. “Do you really think, after all that, I’m going to let you go with a quick fuck?”

  She gasped, her eyes widening.

  “I can give you that if you want, but I won’t stop at just one.”

  Taz shivered in his grasp, her nipples pebbling through the fabric of her bra. “I-I don’t know what I want.”

  “Then let me lead,” he whispered, gently tugging her towards the cot. “I’ll look after you. You’re mine now.”

  18

  His words made Taz shudder as he pulled her into his lap on the cot, and she straddled him. His shoulders were bare, and they still held the residual heat from his time outside when she placed her hands on them. They even felt like a statue left out in the sun, the muscles rippling beneath her fingers like carved stone, topped with scales burning copper in the sunlight streaming through the window.

  She’d always thought she’d be disgusted by the levekk, with their scaled skin and their cool bodies, but as she ran her hands over him, she found that she loved the differences. The skilled tongue invading her mouth, the gentle claws tracing her skin, the thick cock pressing
against her abdomen—she wanted them all, alien or not.

  Kamanek seemed content to explore her body at a languid pace, so she did the same to him. She lifted his tight shirt over his head and ran her hands down a chiseled chest and stomach. She teased his chest where his nipples would normally lie, and was almost disappointed when he barely reacted, but then she found a patch of scales beneath his ear that made him shudder against her, and a line of white bone running down the nape of his neck that looked identical to his claws.

  His chest was littered with scars that she recognized as knife wounds. She caressed them, familiar with the feel of them but unfamiliar with the way his scales puckered around them. When her hands reached his collarbone he pulled back, finally pushing her bra up over her breasts and freeing them.

  “You’re so soft,” he murmured, thumbing the underside of her breast. His claw glanced over her dusky nipple, making her flinch.

  “And you’re built like a fucking tank,” she said, arching closer until his cock throbbed between their bellies.

  He smoothed his hands over her skin, enveloping her torso like a cage. His large hands made her feel tiny, and too thin, and she knew the breasts he was now toying with were small compared to those of the brothel workers she’d seen.

  “I’m not as soft as I could be,” she muttered. “Too much training.”

  “Your body is perfect,” he said, and his words brought a color to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the shower chemicals still biting her skin. He kissed a scar running along her collarbone, moving down to nuzzle the shallow cleft between her breasts. “It’s a powerful body, despite being small,” he continued, dark eyes cutting to hers as his breath fanned out over a nipple. “I like that. I like knowing that I won’t break you, no matter how hard I try.”

  Taz’s breath caught as he ran the flat of his tongue roughly over her nipple in a way that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. A blunt claw pinched the other, surprising a soft noise out of her, but then his lips closed over the wounded area, soothing it. As he suckled her breast, a wandering hand dipped into her underwear and raked over her ass, and she arched into him.

 

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