Renegade

by Lora Leigh

  And destruction wasn't a future he was looking forward to again. He had hoped that the walk through the house would give him a chance to get his arousal, his need for her, under control. It wasn't helping, though. He swore his hands were almost shaking with the need to touch her; his cock was ready to burst from his pants.

  Jaw clenched, he moved from the bedroom and back into the living room, where she waited.

  She stood where he had left her by the closed door. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed beneath her breasts, she was clearly waiting with forced patience.

  "Everything okay?" Her brows lifted as she tucked a heavy strand of hair behind her ear.

  She had worn her hair loose today. It flowed down her back like heavy silk, tempting his hands with the remembered feel of it.

  "It's clear," he told her as he moved toward her, knowing he was losing the battle to hold on to the restraint he needed. He was losing it all.

  His hands were going to the snap and zipper of his leather pants as her eyes widened, darkening, her pink lips parting.

  "Nik."

  "Don't." He was in front of her, his fingers lying against her lips as he drew in a hard, deep breath. "For God's sake, Mikayla, leave me my sanity." He didn't want to argue with her. He didn't want to feel her anger any longer. He wanted to feel her body against his, heated and warm. Her kiss beneath his lips. Her hands holding him to her.

  "Why should I?" she whispered against his fingers. "You don't leave me any, Nik."

  And he was going to make certain neither of them was going to have any sanity left.

  As he lifted her against him, his lips descended on hers, the heated satin meeting 138

  his lips as her lips parted for him. Her hands held her to him by spearing into his hair as her arms wrapped around his neck.

  She was like a flame in his arms. A flame he wanted to never see extinguished. Lifting her from her feet, he placed her on the back of the chair that sat facing the room, its back to the foyer. It was an interesting arrangement and one that worked perfectly for his impatience.

  Impatience. Hunger. God, what was she doing to him? She intoxicated him. She tore aside any civility he might have imagined he possessed and left him as primal as any male animal could be.

  So primal that nothing mattered but having her, touching her, tasting her. Pushing that skirt to her thighs as he tore his lips from hers and went to his knees in front of her.

  Just a taste of her.

  "I'm going to fall," she warned him, her voice trembling as he pushed her thighs apart and tore her panties from her.

  Not that there was much to the panties. Damn her, that had to be the thinnest silk he'd ever touched.

  "I got this," he promised.

  He had this. With her legs over his shoulders, One hand behind her back and her hands in his hair. Yeah, he had this.

  He slid his tongue through the sweetest, juiciest folds of flesh. The taste of her exploded against his tongue like ambrosia. Hell, it was better than vodka and went to his head faster.

  He'd never gone to his knees for a woman in his life, but taking the time to actually get her to the bed, the couch, the counter, reclined, wasn't going to happen. His need for her had risen too high.

  She had managed to back him into a corner. She demanded participation. She demanded equality and there was nothing equal in their abilities to protect her. There was this, though. Here he could lose himself in her. Here there was no danger to her, no fear of losing her.

  There was just the feel and the taste of her.

  He kissed the delicate knot of her clit. Drawing it between his lips and suckling it gently as her thighs tightened on his head and her cries filled his senses. Pulling back, he licked, stroked, tasted each inch of the silken flesh as he felt her trembling in his hold. Flicking his tongue around her clit once again, he licked it, stroked it, drove her as high as possible before pulling back, easing her from the release he'd felt building in her body.

  She was ready to come for him. He could feel it burning inside her, raging through her body. And he was so ready to taste the sweet excess of her pleasure flowing through her.

  But not yet. Not yet. He wanted to feel her release while he was inside her, taking her. The sweet clench of her pussy around his dick was addictive. He swore he'd never felt pleasure so intensely as he did with Mikayla.

  Rising to his feet, he gripped his cock as it pressed out from the opened front of his leather pants. Lifting her against him, he urged her legs around his hips, tucked the head of his cock against her, and pressed inside.

  139

  The pleasure was so intense he nearly lost his balance. Almost stumbling, he pressed her against the wall, his entire body on the edge of trembling as pure, sweet ecstasy began to consume the head of his cock.

  Tender muscles parted slowly, gripping his flesh like a heated glove as it rippled over his cock with a million tiny pinpoints of pleasure.

  "Sweet Mikayla," he groaned as he touched his forehead to hers, staring into the dark amethyst gaze and feeling as though she were sinking into his soul, as though he were sinking into hers. "Just hold me, baby. Just for a little while." Her arms were tight around his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips as he forged deeper inside her, taking her by increments as he felt his chest tightening with the extremity of pure sensation racing through him.

  "I'll hold you forever."

  Forever. How did you tell a fairy that forever was an illusion? That they didn't have forever, they only had this moment. Forever was in memories only and God knew Nik didn't know if he could exist on just the memory of her.

  He gripped the rounded globes of her rear, held her close, and rocked his hips against her, penetrating her deeper with every inward motion as he felt his head spinning with pleasure.

  Damn, she was destroying him one touch at a time. Did she know what she did to him? Did she have any idea how she was locking herself inside his very spirit every time he touched her?

  It didn't matter if she knew. That was what was happening. Each time his dick sank inside her, he could feel another part of his soul opening to her. Staring into her eyes, rocked by the physical as well as the emotional pleasure, Nik began to wonder if fate had finally caught up with him.

  Live by the sword, die by the sword, he remembered hazily. He couldn't survive if that sword reached out to sever the life that glowed in Mikayla's beautiful eyes.

  "Nik." She arched into him, her breathing rough, ragged, as little whimpers fell from her lips. "It's so good. Oh, God, it's so good." She made him feel like fucking Superman when he knew he was no more than a man.

  But the feeling was there, the knowledge that she saw him as more than what he was, saw him as no other woman ever had.

  Trembling in his arms, she still held his gaze as her pussy gripped him tight and hot, so fucking sweet. The rippling caress of the clenching muscles was almost more than he could stand. His balls were tightening, the imminent release quaking through his muscles as he fought to hold back, just a little bit longer.

  He needed to feel her just a few more minutes. Needed to be a part of her as much as possible. Just one more memory that he could hold on to.

  As he rocked against her, his lips moved along her cheek, to her lips. He sipped at the swollen curves before his lips traveled along her jaw, to her neck, to the rounded curves of her breasts.

  With one hand he cupped the side of her breast, lifted her nipple, and lowered his lips to it.

  The strangled cry that left her lips had his cock pulsed, the release clawing at his balls as he licked over her nipple. God, he couldn't hold on much longer. 140

  Sucking the tender tip into his mouth, he laved it with his tongue, tasted it with his senses, and gave himself over to the pure, sweet pleasure of her. His hips moved faster, rocking harder into the tender flesh gripping him. Each desperate thrust inside the slick, hot interior drove him deeper into a morass of pure sensation.

  She was holding him. Her arms and legs ti
ghtened around him as he drove into her, his cock thrusting into ever-tightening muscles as he felt her hurtling into her orgasm.

  She cried out in ecstasy when it took her, his name a chant falling from her lips as he gripped her hips and raced headlong into the release waiting for him. Silken fire consumed him. It tore up his spine, tightened around his balls, and drove the breath from his lungs as he felt his semen spurting deep and hard from the throbbing tip of his cock.

  Unprotected.

  A tortured growl tore from his chest at the realization that he'd forgotten to use a condom. That he was spilling himself inside the brilliant, vulnerable heat of her body. But he couldn't pull back. He couldn't pull free of the grip encasing him. He drove deeper inside her instead, his seed spurting violently from his body, marking her, possessing her, as he groaned her name like a man demented from the pleasure. And maybe he was. Maybe he'd lost his last grip on sanity, just as he'd lost his last thread of control, in her arms.

  She lay against him, exhausted, little shudders of response still rippling over her body as Nik finally found the ability to think again.

  And thinking wasn't something he wanted to do.

  "I forgot," he whispered into her hair.

  "Hmm?" He almost smiled at the curious little sound she made.

  "I forgot the condom." He'd fucked up for both of them.

  "It's okay," she sighed. "I'm protected." He frowned at that, a strange spark of disappointment curling through him.

  "You were a virgin," he stated. "Why are you protected?"

  "Because I'm not stupid." Her lips brushed his shoulder in a lazy kiss. "I protect myself, Nik. I try not to leave it up to other people to take care of me. Now let me down; my legs are going numb." He heard the soft laughter in her voice as she pushed at his shoulders.

  Lowering her gently to the floor, he watched as she wobbled a minute before sliding off the shoe she still wore and leaving it next to its mate on the floor.

  "Wanna shower with me?"

  She was decidedly disheveled. Her hair was mussed, her perfect pretty dress wrinkled and hanging off one shoulder where he'd pulled it down to get to her breast. Her lips were swollen and reddened, her gaze slumberous and sexy as hell. Fuck, she was reeling him in and she didn't even seem to be trying.

  "Definitely; then we have to talk."

  "About what? All the reasons why you don't want me with you through the day?" She smiled back at him softly. "Talk until you're blue in the face, Nik. If someone is going to keep shooting at me, then I'm going to be a part of figuring out why. It's my blood he's trying to spill here. At least give me the satisfaction of trying to figure out 141

  why."

  She was going to be the fucking death of him. Even worse, he couldn't come up with an argument to counter that statement.

  Not that he didn't try.

  While they showered. While he watched Mikayla lotion her body, dry her hair, pull on lounging pants and a loose T-shirt. He fought with himself and every argument he could come up with, and still nothing could combat the statement she made.

  "You have to follow my lead," he finally stated heavily as they sat across from each other in the living room, a pizza spread out on the coffee table in front of them. "I mean it, Mikayla. This isn't a game. It's not playtime and a killer isn't a joke. No matter what I tell you to do, you do it."

  "I'm not stupid, Nik," she said somberly. "I know how to follow orders."

  "I never imagined you were stupid," he breathed out roughly. "But no, Mikayla, if you don't like the orders, then you don't follow them. Don't pretend otherwise. Whether you like the orders or not, you will follow them, do you understand that?" He watched as her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You won't give orders just to push me back and keep me out of the investigation?"

  He only wished taking care of her would be that damned easy.

  "I won't give you needless orders," he promised. "At the same time, if I think a situation is becoming or can become hazardous to you, then you will retreat to where you'll be safe. You'll agree to this or I'll have you locked in a room somewhere until it's over. It's that simple."

  He was wondering if that wasn't the best thing to do now, rather than waiting. He was allowing her to endanger herself, and that wasn't sitting well with him.

  "How dangerous has it been so far?" she asked him logically as she laid her pizza back in the box. "The danger has come from this investigation since you arrived, Nik. It's not going to stop, and what if they strike like they did the other night? While you're not around?"

  "That's the only fucking reason I'm going along with this," he growled, anger surging inside him at the thought of the bastard who had shot through the store. "Because you don't know how to keep your nose out of this and let me handle it."

  "Look, fighting over this isn't going to do either of us any good." Her shoulders hunched almost defensively. "Will you be around forever to protect me, Nik?" He could only stare back at her. God knew he wanted to live his life protecting her, and he knew from experience that just wasn't possible. Shit happened. Love died. Innocence was lost and a man could lose his soul as a result.

  "I didn't think so." There was no recrimination in her tone, or in her look, only bleak acceptance. "If I sit back and let you protect me now, then I've lost valuable experience in protecting myself in the future. Don't take that away from me."

  "And if you end up dead?" he asked her. "At least you'll have a life when this is over if you let me take care of it. Take shooting lessons after I leave. Take self-defense courses. . . ."

  "They can't teach you in a class what I'll learn just watching you, being with you," she stated, determination glittering in her eyes. "And I won't have you in those classes, Nik. I'm not a child, and I'm not helpless. I won't be pushed into a corner with a pat on the head."

  142

  "You're too damned stubborn," he snapped.

  "Fine, I'm too damned stubborn, but in this case you know I'm right; otherwise you would have already locked me in my room while you do whatever the hell it is that you do while you're away through the day. I want to be with you. I want to look these people in the eye, and if one of them is the one shooting at me then I want him to have to face me. I'm finished hiding."

  She was finished hiding. "You mean you're finished being safe," he snapped back, an edge of anger slipping free in his voice.

  "If that's how you want to see it, then fine. I'm tired of being safe," she countered.

  "But you can't look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong, either." No, he couldn't, and that just fucking pissed him off.

  "What did you do today?" She lifted her drink and sipped at it as though the tension in the air weren't thick enough to strangle them both. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he glared back at her.

  "Come on, Nik." Fairy sweet and as innocent as a spring morning, she stared back at him reprovingly. "Let's see how it works. If it doesn't work out, then we'll reassess the situation."

  "In other words, you'll redefine your argument," he grunted. A cheeky smile curled her lips. "That's an option. But I really don't want to die, so I'll always at least consider your side of the situation." Well, at least he had that much. Shaking his head, he leaned back on the couch and stared at her as he attempted to find some damned way to counter her objections to staying safe.

  It wasn't going to happen tonight.

  "I questioned the new foreman, Jack Wallace," he told her. "He had some information I hadn't come across so far. I was going to check it out tomorrow. I haven't been able to confirm your friend Cronin's information, though." Interest gleamed in her eyes. "And what information is that?" He ran through it succinctly, finishing off with the information that he intended to question the disgruntled employee the next day.

  "That should be safe enough for me to go with you." She smiled sweetly. "I know Jarvis Dalton. He's harmless."

  "That's what neighbors said about the Son of Sam," Nik informed her as he tried to hold back his irritation.


  The smile faded. Rising to her feet, she silently cleared the food away while he sat there and watched her, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do about her. Any other woman he could walk away from. He would have put a bodyguard on her, done what he had to do, then left town just as silently as he had arrived. But she wasn't any other woman.

  She was his woman. Even if it was only for a little while. She was his.

  "I'm going to bed." She stood at the kitchen doorway.

  "I'll be in later." After she had gone to sleep. After he'd, he hoped, found a way to rebuild at least a few of the shields around his heart.

  If she was going to deliberately place herself in danger, then he needed to prepare himself for the worst.

  He wasn't prepared for the wounded look in those pretty eyes, though, before she 143

  turned and headed for the bedroom.

  Moving to the guest bedroom, he collected his laptop and notes before returning to the couch to pull up as much information as possible on Jarvis Dalton. He was going to have to find a killer faster than he'd ever imagined if he was going to keep his fairy safe and his soul from being destroyed. 144

  Chapter 15

  Something was different the next morning. Mikayla could sense it, feel it, as she stepped into the kitchen to find Nik preparing coffee and laying out a small platter of sweet breakfast rolls on the table.

  "You didn't come to bed last night," she remarked as she watched him put the right amount of sugar in her cup, then creamer. Giving it a quick stir, he placed it on the small kitchen table before turning back for his own.

  "I had work to do." His voice was as cool as a winter morning, his eyes as icy as the frozen North.

  What had changed? she wondered. How did he manage to go from desperate lover to cold, hard mercenary in the space of a few short hours?

  "What type of work?" She sat down at the table, watching carefully as he took his seat across from her and pulled a file from the other chair.

  "Jarvis Dalton." The file was thick, heavy. "It seems he has problems holding down a job for long. He's worked for several construction firms between here and D.C., and if my information is correct he even worked for your father for a few months. He's a career misdemeanor criminal. Penny ante theft, shoplifting, burglary, terroristic threatening. The man has a rap sheet that proves his stupidity as well as his ineptitude."