Assassin's Game

by Ella Sheridan

  The arrogant prick grinned and, before I could follow my instincts and shut him out, pushed his way past me.

  “That’s the wrong direction,” I snarled, holding the door open.

  Eli’s grin widened. Combined with the riot of half curls the rain had made of his hair, the look was almost boyish. Almost because no one would mistake that body for belonging to a boy.

  “You want everyone to hear this?” he asked.

  Good point. Damn it. “Are you trying to tell me you’re not going to go away?”

  In answer, he leaned back against the wall. I rolled my eyes and closed the door. If I was careful not to slam it, I told myself it was because I didn’t want to disturb Rhys and Monty downstairs and have them come up. Or have Remi come out into the hall.

  I leaned back against the closed door and waited, refusing to look away from Eli’s intense stare. It was like paint stripper, peeling away the layers to see things I didn’t want anyone to see—uncertainty, imperfection, failure. I’d failed my team by not being at their backs. Keeping them safe.

  Jesus, Rhys could’ve died.

  I dropped my gaze to the floor. That was the second time. Fuck.

  The shifting of fabric told me Eli was straightening; footsteps brought him closer. My breath hitched before I forced myself to relax. Dark boots came into view, stopping far too close to mine. Eli’s heat soaked into me through our clothes, and I wondered how mere proximity could wake my body up so fast.

  Sweat beaded between my breasts.

  “Mikaela.”

  God, I wished he wouldn’t call me that. Another layer of the armor I so desperately needed fell away. “What?”

  If the snap in my voice was a deterrent, Eli didn’t let on. No, he stepped even closer, his body brushing mine, his hand coming up to nudge my chin until he could meet my eyes.

  An electric jolt hit me. Those eyes.

  Fuck.

  “You know you’re not to blame for what happened to Rhys.”

  He made it a statement, a fact, when it was anything but. “No, I don’t know that, Eli. Neither do you.”

  “You can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “I can be with them,” I argued. “We never should have split up.” And that was my fault. Period. I’d made the decision.

  “Bullshit,” Eli growled. “You have grown men on your team, Mikaela. Do you think if you gave an order they didn’t believe in, didn’t feel safe with, that they would follow you?” When I tried to look away, he gripped my chin to keep me still. “They know the risks and thought them acceptable. No one can be in control a hundred percent on an op. You do what you can to minimize risk; that’s all any of us can do.”

  “Wrong!”

  The word came out a shout, an escape of the frustration and anger tearing at me. “They are my responsibility just like they were my father’s—”

  “And do you think they never went on a mission without him? That’s bullshit, Mikaela, and you know it.”

  Between one breath and the next, my hand came up, the need to slap his mouth shut so strong that I was barely able to hold myself back.

  Eli glanced to my hand, back to me. “Go ahead, Beautiful.” He pressed closer, the hard wall of his chest flattening my breasts in a way that took my anger and turned it into something equally fierce and irresistible. “Hit me if you need to. Use me. Whatever you need, but I won’t stop.” Amber fire glared down at me. “You need to see yourself as who you are, not some failure because you aren’t perfect. None of us are.”

  His head dipped, his breath heating my neck, making me gasp. “Control is an illusion anyway. You don’t need it, Mikaela. You don’t need to be perfect to be accepted. Wanted. Desired.”

  My closed fist was hanging in the air. I dropped it—right into Eli’s hand. He grabbed my wrist, brought it up until my hand opened on his shoulder.

  He lifted up until he stared deep into me, seeing far more than I wanted him to see. “Use me, Mikaela. Any way you need to.”

  My mouth went dry as I realized what he meant. “You—” I swallowed, tried again. “You said you wouldn’t kiss me unless I asked.”

  The corners of his mouth tilted up, his stare dropping to my mouth. Fuck, the heat in his eyes... “Until,” he said. “Until you ask. And I’m not kissing you, am I?”

  He wanted to. If the hunger turning his amber eyes dark didn’t tell me that, the solid bar nudging my belly made it crystal clear.

  “Eli, I can’t—”

  “Can’t what? Take what you need? Let off steam? Let go?” His hands went to my waist, his fingers pressing deep. “Why not?”

  Because it wasn’t me. Because I needed control the way I needed air. And because I was very much afraid that this man could end up being the biggest threat my control had ever faced.

  An unexamined enemy was a deadly enemy. My dad had taught me that. Never close your eyes to danger.

  I didn’t close my eyes. I kept them open, locked with Eli’s, as I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eli —

  I’d been anticipating Mikaela’s touch. Begging for it. Hurting for it. But nothing I’d imagined even came close to having her pressed tight against me. And her mouth...

  Holy. Fucking. Hell.

  Eyes locked with the startling green of hers, I opened to taste her, a groan escaping as I slid my tongue across the threshold of her lips and into the wet warmth of her mouth. When it met hers, a jolt went through her—shock, at the pleasure or the reality of what we were doing, I couldn’t tell. I only knew I’d do whatever it took to make it last.

  One taste would never be enough. Hell, I doubted tasting her a thousand times would sate me.

  Mikaela’s eyes flared, darkened, even as she yielded to the aggression of my kiss—but not for long. Our tongues battled, meeting and retreating, twisting to gain new territory, parrying each other’s moves to see who would come out on top. Mikaela was as much a warrior when she kissed as when she fought the enemy. I didn’t want to fight; I wanted to dominate. I wanted to take her beyond control to the place where all she could think about was pleasure, hunger. Not winning.

  But what she needed right now was a battle. Whether she’d admit it or not, she was scared to death—of failure, of the consequences to her team. Of being vulnerable. She needed the battle, and I’d give it to her.

  Whoever won was up to her. Win or lose, I was gonna drown myself in every damn second I could get.

  She tasted like a dream. Not the sweet innocence of a young girl unsure of her sexuality. No, she was everything I’d ever wanted, every dark fantasy I’d had with my cock in my hand, every dirty dream that had me spilling my cum in the middle of the night. She might fight me, and she’d most definitely fight herself, but the way our mouths melded told me neither one of us would find a better fit for the hunger riding us hard.

  Her hands hit my shoulders, pushing me away. Then pulled me back. Conflicted. She wanted and she didn’t want—but she wasn’t angry at herself anymore. No, her focus was on me, on the thrust of my tongue in her mouth mimicking what I wanted farther south. When I nipped the full center of her lower lip, a small bite of pain, she gasped—and I swallowed it down.

  A piece of her, mine forever. Blood surged through my already rock-hard cock.

  I wanted more.

  My wandering fingers found the waistband of her fatigues. Walking them up, I grasped the T-shirt that lovingly hugged her body and tugged, easing the material out of her pants.

  Mikaela turned her head, breaking our kiss. “Eli...”

  I opened my eyes, met the startling green of hers. Kept tugging. “So much fire,” I said, unable to keep the words back. “You burn me alive, Beautiful.”

  Confusion and desire warred in her gaze. My fingers met bare skin at her sides, and Mikaela’s eyes widened, her lips parting as if she struggled to get enough air.

  When I ground my rigid erection against her lower belly, her hands fisted my shirt, and
she raised herself on tiptoes. Needing me against a more sensitive spot, I knew. I flattened my palms against her skin and began a slow glide up to the firm breasts I needed to touch more than I needed my next breath.

  “Eli...I can’t...” Mikaela swallowed hard, her gaze dropping from mine to focus on the floor.

  No way in hell was I letting her return to reality. That would mean stopping, and I couldn’t, not now. Not without tasting her fully.

  Abandoning her shirt despite the denial screaming through my veins, I scooped her ass into my hands and levered her up. My cock settled into the notch between her legs—

  “Fuck yes,” I wheezed. It was like two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. Like a key sliding into a lock. Her body and mine, made for each other. Mikaela’s eyes snapped to mine, and in their depths I saw that she felt it too, the rightness. The completion. Her legs spread around my hips, allowing me closer, and I groaned at the feel of her hot pussy against my tight cock.

  I dipped my head to the slender line of her throat, gave the muscle there a nip. “We fit, Mikaela. God, how we fit.”

  “I...” She shook her head, the heavy fall of her hair brushing my face. When I took her flesh in my mouth and sucked, her head fell back to the wall behind her. “Eli— Fuck.”

  That word on her lips. A burst of precum seeped from my tip. I couldn’t hear it without imagining myself buried deep inside her. “Say that again.”

  Mikaela gripped me with her knees and raised herself, rubbing the ridge of her pelvis up my cock. “This is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done,” she said between gritted teeth.

  I chuckled against the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Her shiver brushed hard nipples against me. “Or the smartest.” Knowing my pelvis and the wall kept her secured, I abandoned her firm ass to push back beneath her shirt, then bra. The feel of her bare breasts in my palms had me biting back curses of my own. “I want to see these, Beautiful. I want to suck them. I want to fuck them while I stare down into your eyes and watch you lick me.”

  Mikaela slid her body down, the pleasure rolling my eyes back in my head. Up again. Back down. She leaned into me this time, her sharp teeth finding my nipple through my shirt and biting down as I squeezed her tight nubs beneath her clothes. That sharp spike of pain...

  “I’ve lost my mind,” she groaned against my chest. Her rhythm didn’t change, didn’t slow. She might feel confused in her mind, but her body knew exactly where this was going and was having no problems chasing the finish. “What am I doing?”

  Pulling away from the weight of her breast brought a curse to the surface, but it was worth it when I raised her chin and met the confusion in her eyes. “You’re taking what you need.” Dropping both hands to her ass, I upped her pace, pressing my rigid length against her soft core just the way I needed to send tingles shooting down to my sac. “There’s nothing wrong with taking, with needing.” God knew I needed this, and I’d be damned if I felt guilty about it. “Take it, Mikaela.” I thrust hard again. And again. “Take me.”

  She shook her head, opened her mouth—and I kissed her, locking the denial away. If she’d pushed at me, tried to retreat, maybe I could have stopped. Or maybe I was fooling myself. Maybe I was a bastard for forcing myself on her, but I’d accept that if it meant I could feel her shudder against me, feel the gush of heat against my cock as she came from nothing more than my body grinding on hers and my tongue in her mouth.

  I don’t know when she went still; I was too absorbed with spilling my semen into my fucking underwear. I only knew that when my eyes opened, I was staring straight into Mikaela’s—and hers looked like a deer fixed on a pair of headlights. My lungs worked like a bellows, loud in the silence of the room. I should move, back up, give her space. Apologize.

  Fuck that. I wasn’t sorry for what was one of the most powerful sexual encounters of my life. I’d had fucks that blew the top off my head, and a few minutes dry humping Mikaela, kissing her, and squeezing her tits had blown all those encounters out of the water.

  Apologize? No way in hell.

  “Mikaela.”

  The gravelly sound of her name seemed to jolt her back to awareness. She shoved at my shoulders. “Let me down.”

  Immediately a denial jumped into my throat. I let my breath out nice and slow. She needs space. Just give her space. Lowering her carefully to the floor, I eased back to allow some air between us. “Mikaela...”

  As soon as her feet touched the ground, she bolted.

  “Mikaela.”

  “Shut up!” Her back to me, she paced the length at the room, got to the window, and started to turn. Checked herself. Turned back to the window. Not wanting to face me, talk to me. Probably look at me.

  Grimacing at the moisture chilling on my cock, I leaned back against the wall I’d fucked her on and settled my most unconcerned expression on my face. I needed her against me. I needed us on the pallet on the floor, sweaty and naked and getting ready to go all over again. Mikaela needed space.

  Of course that didn’t hurt.

  Liar.

  Shut the fuck up.

  Mikaela ran her hands through her hair, and my heart kicked at the shake I could see twelve feet away. Regret hit me as she gathered the thick fall of blue-black beauty and twisted it up, then patted her pockets until she found a tie to hold it up with. I should tell her about that love bite already flaring on her sensitive skin, right there where her neck and shoulder met. My cock might be unhappy in its present environment, but it still jerked at the sight of my mark on her, at the memory of her skin against my mouth. Her full-body orgasm.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, gripping my biceps hard.

  “That should never have happened,” she said, still staring between the barely open slats of industrial blinds.

  I didn’t bother trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Why not? You got off, didn’t you?”

  Bastard.

  Mikaela whirled around, mouth open as if to yell at me again. Except her gaze slid down my body to the wet spot no doubt prominently displayed on the front of my fatigues, and her mouth snapped shut.

  That’s right, Beautiful. I got off too. And I intend to do it again, as soon as possible.

  She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Whether or not I... I...”

  “Climaxed?” I used my cocky grin and fully acknowledged that I was hiding my heart behind the damn thing. “Orgasmed? Rubbed one out?” Although technically I’d done the rubbing. “Let off steam?”

  “Stop. Talking.” She dropped her hands, glared at me. “God.”

  I stalked forward. Mikaela backed up, one step, two, before she remembered it wasn’t smart to run from a predator. And from the heat rising in me—and not the good kind—I had a feeling the predator in me was on full display. “Let me tell you something about me, Mikaela. There’s not much about me that I hold back. I like words. I use them. The dirtier, the better.”

  “Well don’t.”

  “Why? Do you like it?”

  A slow pink blush swept across her cheeks.

  “You do, don’t you? I take it that’s new.”

  She hadn’t realized the power words had during sex, and that meant she hadn’t experienced it before. And didn’t like how she’d reacted. My chuckle wasn’t as kind as it probably should be. “That strong, silent type might have done it for you in the past, Beautiful, but that’s not me and it’s not ever going to do it for you again. I’ll tell you exactly what I need. Exactly how you make me feel.” I got right up against her, inhaled the scent of sex and sweet woman on her skin. “Always. In explicit detail.”

  I could see her gathering her courage until she could meet my eyes. “And why would I care?”

  “Because you wanted it. You want me.”

  Mikaela scoffed.

  “Need me to prove it?” I asked.

  Her eyes went wide, her body stiff. Her churning emotions overrode her caution, and she skirted around me. “I think you need to go.”<
br />
  Probably. I’d rather stay, force her to admit what I knew we were both feeling, but if I did, it might force her away from me permanently. My control wasn’t strong enough to prevent that right now.

  So I walked to the door. Brushed against her as I stepped through it. “We’ll talk in the morning,” I said.

  “Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered under her breath as she closed the door.

  A laugh escaped me. Surprised me. I walked down the hall to the bathroom, chuckling and trying to ignore the need still humming under my skin and the wet underwear clinging uncomfortably to my cock.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nix —

  God, I was so fucking stupid. So, so stupid.

  I kicked at the pile of clothes waiting for me to scoop them up and head for the hot shower I’d been longing for since we dropped Sullivan’s driver on the road. Eli had fucked that as much as he’d fucked me—and God, how he’d fucked me.

  I bet the man was down the hall right now, removing his wet underwear and letting that smug smile curve his gorgeous lips. Generous lips. Lips—

  Holy shit. Stop thinking about it, Nix!

  The problem was, even if my mind would let it go, which it wouldn’t, my body couldn’t forget. It had been a long, tense day. Then Rhys. Everything had gone to hell.

  And there had been Eli, right in front of me. Telling me to let it all go. Telling me I didn’t need to be perfect. I sure as hell did. I kept my team alive by being perfect, just like my dad had done.

  Don’t let me down, Mikaela.

  And I hadn’t. But today...

  Today has been a shit show—and I’d forgotten every bit of it the minute my lips touched Eli Agozi.

  The resident playboy. And no wonder. The man was certainly experienced enough to accomplish what usually took me twice as long all by myself. I’d kissed him and had an orgasm five minutes later. What the hell?

  I was pacing the room, trying to put my armor back together, steel myself for running into Eli in the hall—because I was now desperate for that shower, to wash the scent and feel of him from my body—when a buzz in my pocket drew my attention to my phone. Only one person needed to call to get in touch with me: Maris.