by Kit Rocha
She stared back at him as if the small army of cheering people around them didn't exist. Instead, the corner of her mouth tilted up in an almost-smile, and she winked at him.
God, how long had it been since he'd won Emma's trust with winks? He'd been harder then, growing brittle and wary from trying to shoulder his father's responsibilities without turning into him.
But she'd been worth softening his usual scowl with a wink, even though it looked ridiculous. Especially because it looked ridiculous. His face wasn't built for playful expressions, and the incongruity had always made her laugh.
A wink didn't look silly on her. It was sexy, sultry. Almost a promise, and one he was fucking well going to take her up on.
Soon.
The cage door clanged shut behind Noah, and with the lights blaring down on him, he couldn't pick her out of the shadows anymore. The world constricted to the metal cage and the man facing him, a scowl twisting his features.
Noah flexed his fingers and quirked an eyebrow. "Andy."
"Should have known you'd find your way here." Andy's scowl intensified. "Guess O'Kane has pockets deep enough for you to get your hands dirty, huh?"
"You never did get it, did you? Not everything's for sale."
"No?" He feinted a jab, then danced back. "Looks different from where I stand."
Of course it did, because he wasn't seeing a goddamn thing, not really. He'd never notice all the ways Four was different. He saw violent men and half-naked women, not the things that mattered. Strength in the women. Compassion in the men.
Banter was useless. He got it or he didn't, and it wasn't Noah's place to enlighten him or change his mind.
So he'd rearrange his face instead.
Flowing out of the way of another feint, Noah went in hard and fast, smashing his fist into Andy's gut. The roar from the crowd eclipsed the man's pained grunt, but he didn't let the blow throw him for long. He struck back, sloppy and rushed, aiming for Noah's temple.
Noah dodged the worst of it and took a glancing blow to the cheek--just enough to give him a nice bruise for Emma to fuss over later--but the contact put him inside the other man's guard.
His punch didn't miss.
His knuckles stung as he whipped Andy's head to the side, sending him stumbling back. He hit the metal bars, rebounded off, and charged Noah with a theatrical growl. Maybe it was supposed to intimidate him. If so, the man was an idiot, wasting time and breath making his intentions clear.
It only gave Noah time to think. Plan.
Bracing his weight, he let his opponent slam into his gut. A calculated step back, almost like a stumble, but Andy misjudged it. He'd lowered his head for the charge, planning to ram Noah over, but instead Noah slapped a hand to the back of the man's neck and smashed his knee up into his face.
Andy staggered, jerking his head back. Drops of blood hit the floor, raining down from his broken nose. "Son of a bitch!"
The sporting thing would be to give him a chance to recover, and Noah didn't give a shit. He hooked his foot behind the other man's calf and hauled him off balance, dragging him down with a hard shove to the chest. "Tap out, and I won't break anything else."
Andy struggled, swinging a wild, easily deflected blow at Noah's head. "Fuck you," he wheezed.
No, it wasn't sporting. But knocking Andy out before his pride could get him in even deeper shit was mercy, so he did it with minimum fuss. Two hits and the bastard's eyes rolled back, leaving Noah free to rock to his feet as the noise started.
Screaming. Cheering. The crowd roared their disappointment and approval with equal vigor, and for a heartbeat Noah found himself frozen by the unfamiliar sensation of being the center of everyone's attention.
It was Jasper who opened the door, a rare smile transforming his stern face. "All right, Bruiser. You win. Get out so we can clean this mess up."
Noah tried to smile in return, but the expression wouldn't come. Not until he got away from all the attention, out of the spotlight and back into the shadows. Not while strangers jostled around him, slapping his bare shoulders and shouting words that flitted past him as an annoying buzz.
He didn't smile until he found her, standing on the edge of the floor in a circle of respectful space no doubt enforced by the O'Kane ink wrapped around her wrists.
Blood pounded in his ears as he forced past the first knot of admirers. People followed the path of his gaze and began to melt away, until an empty stretch of concrete lined with too-curious spectators was all that stood between him and Emma.
It was too fucking late. Fleming would know he had a weak spot by morning. By tomorrow night, he'd know it was Emma Cibulski.
Fuck, this moment had probably been in the back of Noah's head all along, buried in that dark place he refused to go, as if avoidance could make it disappear. It had played out so pretty--stick around, put her in just enough danger that leaving would make it worse. Maybe he was everything he'd always feared--selfish and obsessed and lying to himself about whether or not he'd ever planned on letting Emma go.
She was his. Good or bad, twisted or wrong, she was his, and he closed the last few steps with a hungry groan, buried his bruised hands in her hair, and kissed her.
The crowd grew louder, but everything in Noah's world was Emma--her taste and her tongue and the fingers that clutched at his bare back, drawing him closer to the softness of her body.
She wanted him violent. Bloody. She wanted him demanding, and she was proving it, going sweet and supple beneath his hands, open and eager, giving him everything he'd never dreamed of allowing himself to want.
He growled against her mouth and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Emma shuddered, her hands gliding over his skin--ribs, sides, stomach--to rest on his belt buckle.
Three steps put her back against the wall. Wrapped in shadows, but not hidden--awareness of the crowd behind him prickled along Noah's bare spine as he braced his hands on either side of her head and licked her plump lower lip. "Something you want, Emmy?"
Her eyes were dark, glazed with pleasure already, as she traced her thumb over the warm leather of his belt. "I want to suck your dick," she murmured. "Right here, in front of everyone."
The words were so sweetly obscene that his brain stuttered. Oh, he wanted it. Wanted it for all the basest reasons, and he was tired of fighting.
Besides, before he promised to stick around, Emma should know who he really was.
He dipped his head to scrape his teeth over her jaw. Up, until he found the soft spot where her chin curved into her throat, and he set his teeth and sucked hard enough to leave a mark.
She whimpered and clutched the back of his head with the hand not lingering on his belt. "You have to say yes."
If she thought he'd stop at something as passive as yes, she was in for a surprise. He lifted his mouth to her ear. "Get on your knees, sunshine."
Her breath hitched, and she slid down the wall with a moan, pushing at his thighs until he took a step back, giving her room to kneel at his feet.
Christ, she looked good there.
And she knew it. There was no innocence in those dark eyes, no matter how big they were. There was hunger, strength, a reminder that the dominance games he'd played with the women in Five were rough and clumsy compared to the way the O'Kanes skated on the knife's edge between power and submission.
She could cut him to pieces, and yet his erection already strained his fly. "Take my cock out."
The buckle clicked as she worked it open, her movements fast and sure. His belt fell open, and she yanked at the buttons on his fly before dragging his jeans and his underwear down to free him.
Emma exhaled on a shaky sigh and looked up, both hands clenched in the loosened denim of his jeans. She didn't touch him--not yet.
Not without a command.
"Good girl," he whispered, dropping one hand to cup her cheek. He swiveled his thumb to press against her mouth, drunk on the anticipation strung out between them. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"
"Yes." She whispered the word against his thumb as goose bumps rose on her arms and her nipples tightened beneath the thin leather she wore.
Good. Resisting the temptation to push into her mouth, he gripped his shaft, stroking once and shuddering when her gaze followed his fingers. The crown was already slick, and it satisfied something uncivilized inside him to trace the tip over her lips.
She opened her mouth. Her tongue darted out, lush and pink, and grazed the head of his cock. A quick caress, over in an instant, and he might have imagined it except for the flash of animal satisfaction that had him growling. "Again."
She blinked innocently, an expression belied by the wicked smile that followed. "Again?"
Noah gritted his teeth. "Put your tongue on my cock."
Only three snaps held her tiny leather vest closed, and she popped the first one free as she complied, lapping at his crown with short, teasing strokes.
Too slow. He'd been hard before she got on her knees, and the liquid need sliding through his veins left no room for practiced seduction. He released his shaft and sank his fingers into her hair instead. "If you take out your tits, I'll think you want me to come all over them."
Emma froze with her fingers on the second snap. "Tease."
He laughed. He couldn't help it. "Sunshine, don't think for a second there's a single place in or on your body I wouldn't love to come."
Her eyes flashed fire, and she fisted her hand around the base of his shaft with a low, drawn-out moan. "Dirty," she whispered, then drew her tongue in a slow circle around the head of his cock.
Shuddering, he tightened his grip in her hair, holding her in place as he rocked forward, pressing between her lips and into the wet warmth of her mouth. "Not as dirty as the things I'll do to you before I get to that point."
She moaned again, the sound vibrating through him in delicious tingles. She looked up, her gaze locking with his, wordlessly begging him to continue.
So he did, focusing on the plea in her eyes to distract himself from the dizzy pleasure as she sucked him. "I never had all the fancy cuffs and chains O'Kane was showing off at that party the other night, so I learned how to improvise. Your arms folded behind your back and my belt around them... With your cheek on the mattress and your ass in the air, you wouldn't be able to get away from my tongue."
Emma jerked, her hand tightening around his shaft and sliding back as she took him deeper.
Yeah, she liked that image as much as he did.
He twisted his fingers in her hair in silent warning, tugging her back until he could thrust shallowly into her mouth. "I think you'd try to get away," he whispered. "I think you'd like it when I stopped you."
She started to bob forward again, but he held tight. She gasped, straining for a heartbeat before relaxing with a gentle sigh, and a new languor softened her movements as she rubbed her head against his hand.
How could anyone compare grudging acquiescence to this, the heady moment when a powerful woman trusted you enough to let herself be powerless? It was like his first shot of O'Kane whiskey after a lifetime of rotgut liquor, so good it ruined him.
There was no going back. Nothing would ever be this good, this sweet.
No one could ever be her.
He withdrew, ignoring her whimper of protest, and taunted them both by stilling with her lips wrapped around just the head of his cock. "Maybe I'll get one of those bars with the leather straps that buckle around your thighs. You'd be able to wiggle all you wanted, and I wouldn't have to hold you open. I can think of better uses for my hands."
Emma sucked hard before releasing him with a pop. "And you called me mean."
He grinned at her. "Hey, if you can't handle what you're getting into..."
"For you?" Her gaze was solemn. "I've been waiting for years."
Levity bled into a fresh wave of hunger so intense that it shoved him across that final line. He shook as the truth tore from him, a promise or an admission or maybe a plea for forgiveness. "Me too. Christ, me too."
Emma rose in a rush and clawed at his chest as her mouth found his in a desperate, bruising kiss. He ripped open the snaps on those tiny leather shorts, and then he had his hands on her bare ass, and he didn't care if every goddamn person in the warehouse lined up to watch them because nothing was worth another second of not being inside her.
He hoisted her with his fingers under her thighs, only distantly aware of the wetness that greeted his fingers. She was as turned on as he was, and that was all the encouragement he needed to go fast and rough, shoving into her hard enough to slam her back against the wall.
She cried out, as sharp and sweet as her nails digging into his back. Her legs locked around his hips, and she shivered against him.
"You've always been mine," he said, rasping the words in her ear. They felt almost as good as the slick tightness of her pussy as it clenched around him. "Always."
"Say it--" The words melted into a shudder as she arched off the wall. "Say it again."
Not just accepting. Encouraging, and he was lost, driving into her again and again, because he wouldn't be deep enough until she felt as desperate and helpless as he did. "Always mine, sunshine. Your mind and your heart--" He rolled into her, tilting her hips until he could grind against her clit. "Your perfect fucking body. Mine."
Her whimpers turned into choked moans and then into incoherent pleas. "You have to--please. Please, Noah--God, you have to--" She clamped even tighter around him, her whole body poised and trembling on the edge of ecstasy.
Getting a hand between them meant losing the press of her skin against his. Instead, he thrust harder, rolling his hips in tiny circles that worked her clit, and trusted his words to shove her over the brink. "Tell me I can keep you, and I'll stay."
"Yes." She ground out the word between clenched teeth as her trembling turned to a full-body shudder. "Yes--fuck, Noah--"
She came, gasping his name for everyone to hear, and the knowledge that they could twisted pleasure into something hot and dangerous as he resumed his quick, hard pace. He wasn't just riding her orgasm to his own. He was claiming her in the most primal way possible, marking his ownership like a rutting fucking beast with the blood and sweat from the cage still slicking his skin.
And she clung to him, moaning and whimpering as each thrust pushed her back toward the precipice. Her nails raked his back as she came again, quieter but more intense, her pussy drawing him deeper with every rippling wave of pleasure.
He gave in, gave her everything, driving home one last time as he buried his face in her neck. "Christ, Em."
"I love you." She said it with her mouth close to his ear, a whisper just for him, and he didn't deserve any of this. Not her body or her mind--and especially not her perfect fucking heart.
"Emmy likes you. She really, really likes you, man. Hell. I think she might love you."
Just a ghost, a nightmare, and Dallas was right. If he couldn't carry the weight of the past for both of them, he would never be worthy of her.
He wanted to be worthy. But wanting didn't make it effortless, and the words stuck in his throat, came out cracked and raw. "I love you, too."
She heard the lie. Not his emotions--loving her was the only thing that had ever come easy--but the one he'd sworn never to tell. It was the only explanation for the way her smile faltered, for the gentle hand on his cheek and her dark, questing gaze.
I'm sorry. "I never thought I'd say that to anyone," he whispered, covering the lie with more truth. "I never thought I'd want to."
That brought back a smile that lit her whole face. "Practice," she murmured. "That's all you need."
If the guilt didn't eat him alive first.
Chapter Seven
Emma woke from a dreamless sleep to the soft rasp of paper sliding over carpet. She saw it instantly, a vague square of white against the darkness--a note, slipped under her door. A summons, maybe, some directive from Dallas or Lex.
She closed her eyes again and snuggled deeper und
er the covers. Noah's arm was draped across her waist, heavy and comforting, and he'd nestled his face against her shoulder. She wanted to roll on top of him and wake him with a kiss, not climb out of bed and read her note. But it might be important--vital, even--so she groaned softly and swung her feet to the floor.
Noah grumbled behind her, but she'd swept up the paper and turned before his eyes cracked open. "What's that?"
Noah's name was written across the outside in Dallas's bold script. "It's for you."
He blinked. "A note? A goddamn treasure trove of tech sitting above his storage room, and Dallas O'Kane passes notes?"
She switched on the dimmest lamp at her bedside, dropped to sit beside him, and handed him the folded paper. "Can't hack a note."
Judging by the perplexed look on his face, it had never occurred to him. He snorted as he rolled to his back. "I guess not, but most people are lazy. They'll take the chance if it saves a minute or two."
"Not Dallas. He's traditional." She sang the word as she walked two fingers teasingly up Noah's chest. "What does he want?"
Noah unfolded the note and studied it, his brow furrowing. "Information."
"What kind?"
Still frowning, he showed her the words.
Lennox,
I need the Council's file on illegal bootlegging inside of Eden.
If you can get it.
Dallas had scrawled O'Kane at the bottom, and Emma snorted. Perfectly worded as a challenge more than anything else, and guaranteed to elicit a reaction. "You can get it...but will you?"
"Do you know why he wants it?"
There was no point in hiding the truth. "Someone's been selling counterfeit O'Kane liquor. It has to be someone with the experience to distill, so Dallas probably figures whoever it is has had run-ins with the military police."
Noah nodded. "And finding out whether I can get onto Eden's servers would be a bonus."
"Mmm, undoubtedly."
He plucked the note from her hands and tumbled her back to the bed, stretching out above her with a too-serious expression. "It's a test. Are you still sure you want me to pass it?"