by Cynthia Eden
Have to make her want me. Have to make her need me. Have to make her mine.
Something deep inside was driving him. Something dark and dangerous. He should let her go. He should get the hell out of there, but he couldn’t.
He dropped her onto the bed. She had a real bed, not a damn cot like he had in his space. Her legs sprawled in front of her. Long, perfect legs. He wanted her legs wrapped around him. But first…
Make sure it’s real. Make sure it’s all real.
He yanked back his savage hunger. His fingers trailed up her legs, moving slowly, sliding up her skin. His fingers were big and callused, and she was like silk.
Softer.
He shoved the too big t-shirt up, and his gaze fell on the slip of black lace she wore. “Panties, this time,” he growled. His fingers caught the lace. “In the way.” He yanked, and the lace tore beneath his hand.
Elizabeth gave a sharp gasp.
He should be using more care. He should be—
His fingers touched her sex. Stroked her, remembered her. The way she liked for him to rub her clit, the way—
Her head tipped back on the bed as she gave a soft moan.
“Careful, baby,” he warned. “No one can hear.”
Her head immediately whipped back up. She stared at him, the desire momentarily clearing from her gaze. Her eyes widened and—
He pushed her legs farther apart, then he pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. He worked her with his fingers, sliding them in and out, watching her face, watching her body, loving the way she tensed and jerked and bit her lip to hold back her cries. When he stroked her just this way, moving his fingers fast and deep…
Her hips surge up toward my touch. That gets her to climax faster.
The past and present merged in his mind. Memories of how to touch her.
When I slow down, when I glide my thumb over her clit…
Her hands fisted around the bed covers. “Sawyer!” A low hiss of demand.
I draw out her pleasure. I get her body bow tight. Then…
His fingers pressed harder. He stroked her faster.
She came. Her body stiffened, and she whispered his name.
His control shattered. He clawed at the top of his jeans. Yanked out his cock, and he had the head of his dick pressed to her sex. She was still trembling, still quivering with her release, and he had to take her. He drove into her, and it was like coming home. Her sex was wet and hot and so damn tight. Holding him so close, driving him insane.
Her legs locked around his hips. Sawyer stood poised over her, leaning over that bed, bracing his hands on the mattress as he drove in and out of her. Every move had her twisting against him, had her breath choking out. He could make her come again. She always came fast the first time, but she came harder the second. He could get her there.
He withdrew, then positioned his hips down in a hard thrust, one that would take his cock right over her sensitive core. Her hands locked around him, her nails raked over his back. He still wore his damn shirt—and she still had on the Navy t-shirt. He wanted them both completely naked. Wanted her skin to skin.
But…
No time.
His climax was bearing down on him. He was about to erupt, and she had to find her pleasure first. He always made her come first because he needed Elizabeth to know pleasure with him, to know he took care of her.
His hand slid between their bodies. He stroked her. Demanding, rough, because she liked that, she’d come for—
Her sex squeezed him hard with the contractions of her climax, and then he was pounding into her. Control gone, lust driving him. He thrust deep and hard and he came, exploding into her. His breath sawed from his lungs as he emptied out into her.
Elizabeth.
His heart thundered in his chest. His cock—shit, the damn thing was still erect. He wanted to go again. Wanted to take her endlessly. Wanted—
Footsteps.
He heard them, the soft pad was approaching. Could be someone just walking by. Could be someone…
Coming to Elizabeth?
Growling, he withdrew from her and whirled for the door. Who the fuck is coming to her room at this hour?
She grabbed his arm. “Sawyer? What is it? What are you doing?”
“Someone’s coming.” He hauled his jeans back up and took a step toward the door.
“What?” She rushed around him and put her body between him and the door.
Oh, the hell, no.
“You can’t go running outside!” Her voice was barely a breath. A very angry breath. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were red and swollen, and her tight nipples thrust against the shirt-front. “You’re supposed to be in your room, remember? Locked in your room!”
“And no asshole is supposed to be headed to your room.” Not after midnight. No way in hell.
Her lashes flickered. “Someone was in Cecelia’s room last night…”
His shoulders tensed. The footsteps were getting closer. Was the late-night stranger coming to Elizabeth? Or heading for Cecelia?
“Could be a guard patrolling.” She swept a nervous glance at the door. “And if you go rushing out there, what will happen?”
He’d get tranqed. Maybe the tranq would work on him. Maybe this time, it wouldn’t. Maybe all of his plans would accelerate, and the facility would get ripped to the ground.
She shook her head. “Wait, okay? I don’t want you hurt.” She licked her lower lip. “I never wanted anyone hurt.”
The footsteps were coming closer. And they were coming right to her door.
His hands were clenched into fists. He was going to—
A knock sounded at her door. “Elizabeth?”
Landon’s voice. That motherfuck—
“Stop.” She put her hand on Sawyer’s chest and stared into his eyes. “We have to think.” Her words were whispered. “Think, and not attack.” Her gaze searched his. “Let me see what he wants.”
Sawyer thought he knew exactly what the bastard wanted.
He wants you, Elizabeth.
She carried Sawyer’s scent on her body. He’d marked her.
But he felt like she’d marked him.
It was real. Not just a dream. I know her body. I know her.
“Just hide, okay?”
What the fuck had she just said? Hide?
“I came here to save you, not to watch you crash and burn in front of me.” She blinked quickly, as if—as if she were trying not to cry. He stiffened. Oh, hell, no, Elizabeth couldn’t cry. Not on his watch.
She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Get in the closet. Let me deal with Landon. We have to—”
“Elizabeth!” Landon’s voice was even louder. “I need you, now!”
The guy needed a long overdue ass-whooping. That was what he needed.
“Please,” Elizabeth begged softly. “I can’t watch while everything goes to hell in front of me again.”
Shit. He had his own plans that couldn’t be screwed. Hating it, he gave a grim nod as he retreated. Sawyer yanked the knife from the wall before he slid into the closet. But he didn’t shut the door completely. He left a small slit so that he could peer out and watch Elizabeth.
My Elizabeth.
She yanked on a pair of jeans even as a fist pounded into her door. She was just jerking on her shoes when that door burst open.
Landon and a guard stood in her doorway. Landon’s face was flushed, and Sawyer tensed when the guy lunged forward and grabbed her arm. “You didn’t open your door!”
She shoved him away. “I was getting dressed, Landon. Give a woman some time, would you?” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “And I don’t like this bursting in crap. I’m not a prisoner here, I’m a co-worker, and you don’t get to just—”
“There’s been an incident.” Landon’s voice was off, stilted. The guy had turned his body, and his gaze seemed to be sweeping all over Elizabeth’s quarters. In the closet, Sawyer tensed. He hadn’t left any of his clothing beh
ind, but Elizabeth’s bed was damn well wrecked. And her lips were red and swollen. Her hair tousled.
“What kind of incident?” Elizabeth had moved a bit, subtly positioning her body between the closet and Landon. She’s protecting me. That was…unexpected.
But then, everything about Elizabeth was unexpected.
Dead. She said I was dead.
There was a faint commotion near the doorway. Sawyer shifted a bit to get a better view, and he saw Cecelia appear. The shrink was wrapped in a thick robe, and her hair trailed over her shoulders. “What’s happening?” Cecelia’s question was sharp. A guard stood just behind her.
“An incident,” Elizabeth repeated what Landon had just said. “Only Landon won’t tell me what—”
“Because you need to see for yourselves. Follow me, ladies, now.”
They headed for the door. Elizabeth was moving with fast, jerky motions, obviously wanting to get out of there. No, she wants to get him away from me.
Hiding in that closet didn’t sit well with Sawyer. He wanted to leaped out of there, wanted to grab Elizabeth and hold tight. But his team was counting on him. Plans were in place.
He couldn’t jeopardize them.
Not even for the woman who held the key to his past.
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth swore that she could still feel Sawyer’s touch on her skin. That she could feel him in her.
It had been just like before—so many times before. They’d touched and the rest of the world had fallen away. Her response to Sawyer had always been off the charts. He’d been the only man to make her lose control. The only man who could drive her absolutely wild.
When he’d kissed her, she’d been lost.
Now she hurried away from her quarters, trying to smooth her hair back and wishing that her frantic heartbeat would calm down. A guard was behind her. Cecelia was in front of her. And then Landon—and another guard—they led their little party through the narrow corridors. Elizabeth wanted to look back, she wanted to make sure Sawyer was safe, but she didn’t dare risk a glance over her shoulder. She had to protect him.
“Down here.” Landon had stopped in front of a big, metal door. The thin, dark-haired guard yanked it open and the loud screech of grating metal had Elizabeth tensing. She peered forward and saw a dark stairwell waiting.
And the knot in her stomach got worse. “What is this place?” she whispered to Cecelia.
“I think it’s some kind of storage area. I’ve…never been here before.” There had been the faintest of hesitations in Cecelia’s voice. Landon and the guard near him were shining flashlights into the stairwell and motioning them forward.
Cecelia went first, but Elizabeth didn’t advance. She stared at Landon, narrowing her eyes against the glare from his flashlight. “Why are we here?”
“Go down the stairs and you’ll find out.” His voice was clipped, but she could see the faint tremble in his fingers. He was nervous. So was she.
She walked forward, but didn’t head down the stairs. Instead, she stopped right in front of him. “This area is deserted.” Deserted, dark. Creepy. But then, the whole facility was creepy.
His head cocked.
“Why aren’t there lights in the stairwell?” Elizabeth asked. Bad sign. Very bad.
“Glitch with the power grid. This whole section is without power.”
Wonderful. “Can’t help but think…” She motioned toward the stairwell. Elizabeth could hear Cecelia and the dark-haired guard as they headed down the steps. “This would sure be a great place to eliminate someone.”
Landon stepped toward her. “Yes, it would be, wouldn’t it?”
Her lips parted.
And from down in that stairwell, she heard Cecelia scream.
***
Sawyer had just entered his cell when he heard the scream. It was faint, coming from too far away, but definitely in the facility. He whirled back around and lunged for the door.
What in the hell is happening? That was Two’s sharp voice, rolling through his head.
The scream had died away. A woman’s scream. Had that been Elizabeth? He grabbed for the door. He was about to rush right out when—
The door opened. A guard stood there, frowning at him. The guard’s tranq gun was in his hand. “Why are you out of bed?”
Better question, how had the guard gotten there without Sawyer hearing his approach? Shit, he’d been distracted. Focusing and thinking too much about Elizabeth. He hadn’t paid enough attention to his surroundings.
Sawyer could rip that gun away from the guard. He could knock that bastard out. He could be free of the cell and looking for—
Footsteps. Close.
Sawyer kept his hands loose at his sides. He breathed in and out, slowly, finally using his enhanced hearing as he should. He’d been obsessing about Elizabeth and he’d almost screwed up. He couldn’t afford those kinds of mistakes.
A second guard appeared in the doorway. For just a moment, Sawyer was tempted to attack. He could take them both.
“Why are you out of bed?” the first guard repeated. He was a short guy, wide in the shoulders, with small eyes.
“I thought I heard a scream.” And that was the truth. Sawyer’s brows lowered. “Is everything okay at the facility? I could have sworn I heard a woman—”
“Everything’s fine. The facility is secure.”
“Then why are you in my room?” Sawyer fired back.
“Because we’re doing a sweep. Orders from up top. We’re to make sure everyone is accounted for.”
Fuck. Extra security. Just what he didn’t need.
The guards backed away. Sealed his door shut.
Sawyer didn’t move.
What in the hell is happening? Two was practically shouting in his head. That scream—it was Cecelia!
Shock slid through Sawyer. How do you know that?
He had a fast impression of fury…and fear. I know her. What’s going on?
Sawyer stared at the sealed door. Landon came and got Elizabeth and Cecelia. Said he had something to show them.
And what, Sawyer wondered, had they seen? What had made Cecelia scream?
***
Landon went down the stairs before Elizabeth. She hurried after him, even though Cecelia’s scream had died away. Landon’s flashlight hit the figures at the bottom of the steps.
The young, dark-haired guard.
Cecelia.
The dead man.
The dead man.
Behind her, Elizabeth heard the other guard release a rush of air, it sounded as if he’d been punched in the gut. She felt the same way. Elizabeth staggered to a stop on the stairs. Her hand gripped the metal handrail, holding too tight. And then she became aware of the stench. Thick, cloying. Death.
“I-I found him half an hour ago.” It was the young guard who spoke. The man who’d led Cecelia down the stairwell. He ran a shaking hand over his hair—hair, Elizabeth finally noted, that was disheveled. “I was just patrolling. Never expected to see…”
Slowly, Elizabeth crept down the stairs. Her gaze was on the dead man.
“I didn’t touch him. Didn’t move him at all,” the guard said quickly. “Went straight to get Dr. Meyer.”
“An accident?” Cecelia questioned. She was standing a few feet from the body. “He’s…he’s a guard. You can tell by his uniform. He must have slipped on the stairs and fallen. Broken his neck.”
The poor man’s head was twisted, so that certainly fit but…
“He has more wounds,” the words slipped from Elizabeth. The guy wore the customary black attire that all of the Lazarus guards were given, so at first glance, she hadn’t noticed the blood soaking him. But the longer she looked, unable to glance away…Oh, my God. Elizabeth snatched the flashlight from Landon and rushed forward, moving to get a better view. She crouched right beside the body, but didn’t touch him. “No accident.” Not by a long shot. There were stab wounds in the guy’s chest. She could see the cuts in the black fabric
now. The deep slices into his skin. Not just one or two. She counted at least… “Thirteen,” she whispered. That was an awful lot of rage.
She looked up and found Landon staring at her. She could see the fear in his eyes.
“How long has he been dead?” Landon blurted.
Her eyes widened. “You want me to tell you that?”
“You’re a doctor, for Christ’s sake!”
“So are you!” Elizabeth threw back. “And the last time I checked, neither one of us were medical examiners!”
He glared at her.
Shit. “Lividity has set it.” That she knew. And the blood had…congealed on the stairs.
The two guards who’d accompanied them didn’t speak.
Cecelia shuffled forward. “Was his neck broken before—or after—all of those stab wounds?” All of the flashlights were locked on the man’s chest, the bright light showing the horror of his attack.
I don’t know. “We need to get the body out of here,” Elizabeth said, not answering her question. “We need the cops here and—”
Landon was already shaking his head. “No cops.”
She surged upright. “There’s been a murder! We absolutely need the cops!”
“We’ll take the body up to one of the labs. Examine him. Find out what’s happening.” Landon pointed at her. “You and Cecelia can examine him. You’re both medical doctors.”
She didn’t point out—again—that so was he. “Do you know who this man is?” Her voice was low and flat as she tried to keep herself together. The guard’s face looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him.
“It’s…Hugh. Hugh Cleston. He started here about a month ago.” Landon’s tone matched her own. “He didn’t report for duty tonight, so that’s why I had the guards patrolling. I wanted to make sure—” He broke off. “Let’s get the body moved. We’ll talk in the lab.”
Hugh. “He was the guard who watched Cecelia and me last night.” She remembered the name and the face now. After the lockdown, he’d been the one tasked with keeping them safe. Elizabeth remembered him watching them as they entered her quarters, but…We didn’t go out again until morning, and he was gone by then.
“We need to move the body,” Landon was adamant. “We have to get this situation contained.”