Chapter Sixteen
Now - Kirby
Kirby wasn’t embarrassed by what she’d done. Last night was incredible. Her reckless actions should have landed her somewhere other than eight hours of heaven.
And then someone woke them up this morning, hammering on the hotel room door. She sat up in bed, wrapped in sheets and still pressed against Gwydion, while Min answered. It was Starkad.
There was a twinge in her chest that she couldn’t identify, as all three men stared each other down. There was also a question she very much understood. How did Starkad know which room she was in?
“Is this man a problem?” Min asked.
In so many ways. “He’s a colleague.” Mentor. Friend. Savior. Not-lover. And he had no right to judge her.
Not that he was.
She refused to be demure or shy now. She let the sheet drop away and tugged on her dress, intently aware of the three pairs of eyes on her. Heat filled her, amplified by the friction of fabric on her skin. She swore the tension and desire in the room flowed together in an almost tangible fog.
She approached Min. He caught the base of her neck and pulled her into him, to claim her mouth. Her body molded to his. She groaned at the power and intensity in his kiss.
Before he pulled away, he murmured against her lips, “Thank you for an incredible night, Huntress.”
“Ooh, me too.” Gwydion grabbed her wrist and spun her. He laid a series of playful nibbles along her bottom lip before kissing her hard. The way he danced his fingers along her hips, and inched up the hem of her skirt, made her giggle, but his hard body drew a groan.
He kissed along her jaw, to nip her earlobe. “Until next time,” he whispered, then tugged his cap back onto her head.
There wouldn’t be a next time. The thought hurt more than should be possible, especially since she didn’t know him and Min. So she smiled. She was keeping the hat, though.
Starkad cleared his throat with an exaggerated cough. “Are we all having fun?”
She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. He wasn’t looking at her.
Jealous bastard. What gave him the right? “Let’s go.” She brushed past him without a second glance.
She stalked back to the elevator, and he kept pace. The ride down to their floor was spent in awkward silence.
“My room.” He clipped off the words.
She clenched her jaw. She wanted to shower. Put on different clothes. Spend a little longer ignoring him. But last night had cleared most of the self-destructive out of her system, and she needed to be a professional, not a brat.
Really, what gave him the fucking right to be pissed about this? And she still wanted to know how he found her. Questions that could wait until they were behind closed doors.
He unlocked the door, and they stepped inside. He stalked across the room, grabbed a box off the table, and tossed it at her. “You’re going to be a brunette.”
She caught the dye easily and set it on the dresser next to her. “I read online that brunettes are kinkier. Do you think that’s true?”
“And you get your wish. Your target is still here, so we are too.” He never looked at her, and his voice was like ice, sliding down her spine.
“Yay. Hurray.” Despite the lack of enthusiasm in her words, adrenaline spilled inside, mixing anticipation with anxiety. Brit was here. There would be vengeance.
Starkad whirled on her, eyes narrowed. “What’s your malfunction?”
“Me?” Kirby scoffed. “You’re one to talk, ice man.”
“You’re supposed to be keeping a low profile. Not fucking random strangers you met in a bar.”
Her irritation surged. “Hi. Have you met me? Do you have any idea how I spend my free time? I’ve never made a secret of it.”
“You were in his room.”
“Which... how did you know where to find me?”
Starkad’s gaze flicked away from her for the briefest second. “The bartender saw who you left with.” He was lying. Fuck him.
“Would you rather we’d gone back to my room?” she asked. “This isn’t the first time I’ve done it, and it certainly won’t be the last.”
He gripped the back of the chair next to him so hard, the wood creaked. “I need you to take this more seriously. That’s not a random TOM out there. It’s Brit. She’s—”
As good as I am when she doesn’t hold back. That was the last thing Kirby wanted to hear. The truth sucked like that. “She’s what?” She put an edge in her voice.
“Be. More. Careful. This situation is different.”
“No it’s not. This is exactly the same as every other time I’ve hooked up while we’re on mission. Cautious is second nature for me. It’s been drilled into my skull for as long as I can remember. I was trying to be careless last night, and I was still safer than ninety-nine percent of the world.”
“You were trying...?” He raised his brows.
Oh fuck him and his judgment. “Why are you so upset about this specific instance?”
“That one percent is Brit. And if she finds you first...” He just had to throw that in her face.
“What am I supposed to do instead? Stay locked in my room and be celibate? Because you’re sure not going to fuck me.” Never mind that she was the one who wanted to stay yesterday. This was about every time.
“This isn’t about you and me.” Another lie. Asshole.
“But it is, isn’t it? Because you’re lying to me. You’re acting jealous.” As Kirby said the word, she realized how true it was. It was hard to believe. He’d pushed her away for years. But her training, her instinct—everything said this attitude was different from what it had been in the past.
Starkad was jealous.
And she was smug.
Starkad’s roar shook her to her core. He whirled on her and stalked forward until her back was to the wall. “I do this to keep you safe. I don’t care for resentment in return. You don’t want from me what you’re asking for.”
Sex? She did. She had for years. Her pulse hammered in her ears. “I’ve told you that’s exactly what I want. You’re exactly what I want. You want me to stop screwing around? Give me an alternative.”
“I would do so much for you, but that’s not an option.”
With him this close, she could drown in everything about him. His strength. His heat. His cool, familiar scent.
“Then you have no right to be jealous if I find it somewhere else. I’ve never made a secret of whose bed I’d rather be in.” She squirmed against him, not to get away, but to feel more. Satisfaction wormed inside when his hard length pressed into her hip. “To quote Cheap Trick, I want you to want me.”
“No. You don’t.”
Kirby searched his face. What she saw hints of caught her off guard. “What are you afraid of?”
“Things you can’t begin to comprehend. But not that.”
“Bullshit. Why does the idea of fucking me scare you? You hide your fear well, but it’s there. It trickles from you.” Though some of that was her. Need screamed in her veins and hammered in her thoughts, mingling with the delicious terror of what would happen if she pushed him too hard.
“Fine. You think this is really what you want?” He spoke through clenched teeth.
Even pinned between him and the wall, she had a little wiggle room. She stood on her tiptoes and crushed her mouth to his. The kiss sparked over her skin. So this was what it was like to taste him. She could fall into the sensation, but not yet. Not under these circumstances. She bit his lip hard when she pulled away.
Starkad snarled and pressed his hand to her in throat, locking her in place. The weight on her windpipe was just enough to fuzz her thoughts, and it was incredible. She welcomed the pain, but the unleashed lust that raged behind his gaze terrified her.
He kissed her hard enough to cut her lips into her teeth. His hungry, furious kiss stole her thoughts. He returned the favor of the bite several times over, until her lips were swollen and tender, and her body whimpered for more.
Starkad had held back for years. Watching Kirby. After she was an adult, wanting her. Telling himself he had to wait because making their relationship sexual wasn’t appropriate. It was all a series of excuses. He’d crossed the point of no return with Kirby long ago. The first time he landed his palm against her bare ass. Or was it when he suggested the play in the first place?
Was it before then?
This morning, he’d assumed she was in her room. He was looking for Min, not her, to confirm Gwydion was here too. And because he’d hoped Min would be a voice of reason.
When Starkad saw her with them... Kirby was partly right; there was jealousy. Mostly though, it was desire. When he’d promised himself he wouldn’t love her in this life, he had no idea how much that pushed the limits of his self-control.
He wanted her. He needed her. And he desperately loved her. Possibly more than he had in her first life.
And now she stood trapped between him and the wall, reeking of sex. He didn’t care that it was because of how she spent her night. She pushed all his buttons this morning, and snapped his control.
Starkad grabbed her arm and yanked her into him. Her delighted gasp was fuel, poured on the flames licking over his skin. He spun her away, hoping the action would quench his desire when he wasn’t looking her in the eye.
She pressed back into him, grinding her ass into his erection.
Fuck it all. He pushed her toward the bed, and she knelt without protest. He flipped up her skirt to reveal her bare ass, her pussy teasing him from between her legs.
Starkad’s reason was gone. He grabbed her wrist, tugged it behind her back, and pressed her face first into the mattress, leaving her behind up the in the air.
Kirby could twist out of this. She knew a dozen rolls, and a couple would probably catch him off-guard. She also knew the one word that would make him stop.
Instead, she groaned and wiggled her hips.
His heart hammered against his ribs, and his pulse screamed. When he unzipped his pants, she whimpered. If he weren’t already unraveled, that would have been the final straw.
He thrust inside her without warning, burying himself deep. She was tight, and slick with need, squeezing his cock. This angle would strain her shoulder and steal her balance. Leave her with just enough of an ache to remember the moment.
They both preferred it that way.
Starkad reached around to tease her clit. There was no time or patience for tenderness and buildup. He needed her to come. He needed so much from this moment.
He stroked her swollen button hard, barely moving inside her. Her climax swept up quickly. She clenched around him and bucked away from his touch. He didn’t ease up until she shuddered with pleasure.
A tiny bit of him wanted her to be the voice of reason. To stop this.
But he was grateful she didn’t. He moved both his hands to grip her hips, and slammed inside her. He was lost in the coppery tinge of control and power that clouded his thoughts whenever he took Kirby. He pounded hard, hitting her at the right angle inside. Letting the friction build. Listening to her cues.
He struggled to hold back, but when she came a second time, he couldn’t. Spikes danced through his nerves. His balls were tight. Stars sparked behind his eyelids.
The world paused for a heartbeat, and climax spilled from him, into her. He fucked her until the edge dulled and reality licked the corners of his vision.
Starkad slid out of her and let her go. He enjoyed the sex, but he didn’t like losing control.
Kirby rolled onto her back, a playful smile playing on her face. She stretched her shoulders and rolled her neck. “So worth the wait.” Her voice was soft. She was stunning. Glowing. Half-naked.
“Happy now?” His growl was weak. He’d lost his grip on the reins. With the one person he swore he never would.
“Yes, sir,” she said demurely.
He knelt next to her and cradled her face between his hands. He brushed his lips lightly over hers. The spark that raced through him almost stole his reason again. It had been so long, and this felt so right.
Starkad always held her after sessions. This was different. He needed it more than ever, and suspected she did too. He dragged a thumb over her cheek, studying her eyes. The woman who stared back devoured his breath and filled his heart with warmth.
“I didn’t want this. Not this way.” The regret slipped out without his permission.
She went rigid against his touch.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Kirby jerked away and stood. “Fuck you.” She kept her back to him as she smoothed out her dress. She strode toward the door.
“Kirby, don’t you dare—” But he couldn’t put the power in his command. He’d just changed their entire relationship.
She paused with her hand on the doorknob, her body straight as a rod. When she turned to him, her face was a stony mask. He’d seen this expression on mission, but never outside of it.
“All right. I’ll stay.” Her voice was cool. “We don’t even have to talk about what happened. I’d hate to think I was a regret for you, in any way.”
“That’s not—”
“You said we’d pursue Brit. That means she’s in town still?”
“Yes.” Starkad racked his brain for the right words to explain.
“Great. I need a shower. Maybe you’ll like me more as a brunette. Actually, who gives a shit what you like? I’ll talk to you when I get out.”
He let her walk out of the room. He needed to cool down, and so did she. This was on him, and he wanted her to heal, not regressing into what she’d been when he pulled her out of TOM.
A shower sounded like a good idea. Her scent clung to everything, clogging his nostrils and thoughts.
His phone chimed, and he grabbed for it.
Brit.
“Yeah?” he said.
“I want out. Asylum.”
Starkad didn’t have the time or patience for this. He wasn’t some revolving door for TOMs who decided they were fed up with the lifestyle. “Good luck with that.”
“Wrong answer. I’ve fed you information for years. I’ve put everything on the line. I want something in return.” Her voice was tight.
Had this been her plan with this trip? Surprise him by being the team leader, then ask for his help walking away? “You get salvation. Helping me is atonement for your guilt.” A sliver of guilt wormed its way through him. Seeing what Kirby had gone through over the last few years made him rethink ever being involved with TOM, even as a double agent. Now he had the chance to save someone else.
The person who almost cost him everything.
“Yeah. Atonement. For the death of a woman who’s not dead after all. And you knew it. Why didn’t you tell me Kirby was alive?”
Because that was the last thing he needed—Brit, hounding him for contact with Kirby, so... What? So she could destroy Kirby a second time? The first round was rough enough. “Are you actually asking me why?” he asked.
“You pulled her out. Do the same for me. You don’t have to take me under your wing. Give me a name. A connection. Something.” Desperation leaked into her plea. “You have people who relocate target survivors. Put me in touch with that group.”
“You’ve made contacts. Call one of them.”
“TOM contacts. I seriously don’t have time to argue with you. Mark will wonder why I’m taking secret phone calls.”
“Then accept my no and hang up.” Starkad didn’t know why he was still on the line. “If I help you get out, Kirby will know where you are. Do you want to survive retirement?”
“Are you fucking her?”
The question wouldn’t have meant anything yesterday. Or an hour ago. Now it made him want to put his fist through the wall. “She’s my ward and my student.” Not that he owed Brit any explanation.
“She’s a grown woman who adored you. Did you ever even see that? Not sure how you could miss it. When she wasn’t busy ignoring the impact she had o
n my life, she was lusting after you. She would have given everything to bow at your feet.”
Starkad hated the truth in those words. Not because of the idea, but because he was the one who kept it from happening. “This conversation is over.”
“Wait,” Brit half-shouted. “Please? This isn’t about her. Vidar, it’s a relief to know she’s still alive. And I just want out.”
His answer should be no. If anyone else had helped him the way Brit had, he’d consider their request. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be in touch.” He disconnected.
This entire situation was a problem. Kirby wanted vengeance, he almost believed Brit was sincere about wanting to walk away from TOM, and there was no question which of them Starkad’s loyalties lay with.
For all he knew, Brit’s help over the years had been a way for her to feed him the names of anyone she deemed as a threat to her position. Similar to what she’d done to Kirby—let someone else pull the trigger on the obstacle.
He had another concern, too. If he helped hunt Brit, it could destroy Kirby in ways she might never come back from.
One thought stood out clearly, amid the uncertainty. He’d kill Brit without hesitation before she could touch Kirby.
Chapter Seventeen
Now - Brit
Brit could handle pain. She had the techniques down, to ignore it long enough to accomplish critical tasks. Mark had played a huge part in that.
Right now, she wasn’t in the mood to block out one more thing. Her shoulder throbbed, her ear hurt like a bastard, and Starkad wasn’t yielding.
“Well?” Mark watched her expectantly.
“He told me he’d think about it. But I’m not worried. He’ll cave.”
“How do you know?”
Brit didn’t. For all she knew, Starkad would either ignore her or tell her to go fuck herself. She kept her doubt tucked deep down. “Because he won’t want to break Kirby.” She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but a guy who gave up his entire life to rescue a single girl had to have some attachment to her. And Starkad had infuriated gods when he walked away from TOM.
Brit hated playing both sides of this fence. She wouldn’t turn on Starkad. She’d still kill Mark the instant she had her out. But letting Mark think otherwise was safest. If he believed he was in on everything she was doing, he’d spend half as much time poking around behind her back, trying to figure out what she was up to. She wasn’t in any condition to fend him off if things went bad.
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