A WILDer Kind Of Love

by Angel Payne

  “To the safe house.” He didn’t falter any syllable. “With Devyn. You have to go with her, Tess. It’s not negotiable.”

  She gawked like he’d just grown webbed feet and had quaked it at her. “You’re smoking crack, Colton. If you send me, you’ll have to send half the office, too. We’re all just your work friends. Trained CIA work friends who work in a damn secure building, at that.”

  “Dammit.”

  “Dammit what?” Her head slid back as if on a rail, spearing him with a full what-the-hell, as he started crossing the room toward her.

  “You’re going to make me do this the hard way, aren’t you?”

  “The hard way…what?” But when he didn’t deter his gaze from her beautiful face for a second, her demeanor started to crack. She blinked hard, and he knew—knew—that for a moment, she didn’t just see him. She felt him. She felt them. All the connection and perfection and power of what they’d shared in the middle of the desert, in the darkness of that dungeon, was just as real and brilliant here, as he knew it would be—as she shook her head against it, refusing to believe. Dan didn’t blame her. Looking at the sun was hard enough, but being forced to hop in a space shuttle then land on it?

  Death was death, no matter how good the fire felt getting there.

  When he was finally close enough, he lifted his hands to her shoulders but didn’t grab them. Instead, with hands turned over, he trailed his knuckles along both those sweet curves, hoping she felt his longing, even now, to kiss them, shield them, hold them—

  To protect her with his own damn life, if that was what this all came to.

  “You’re going to the safe house with my sister.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes…you are. I’m not going to let that asshole or his dipshits near you, ruby.”

  A tremble ran the length of her body. An answering energy vibrated through him. Just like that, it all returned…the threads, so spectral yet so strong, that bound their very chemistries. Undeniable. Unbreakable.

  Tess jolted her stare up at him, stabbing daggers of jade confusion through dark ginger lashes, sharpening as he shifted even closer. Help, he pleaded to heaven. Help me to help her understand. If at least her senses acknowledged the truth of who he was, she’d comply. She’d be safe, and so would his secret.

  Not happening.

  The next second, she made her chin follow her gaze. It jutted up as she huffed again at him. “Dammit, Dan. They’re not going to come anywhere near me. Honestly, I don’t think there’s any need to—”

  Desperate times. Desperate measures.

  He flipped his hands over. Dug his fingers into the flesh of her arms and his stare into the deepest corners of hers. “We don’t have time,” he growled. “And you will not argue with me about this anymore. You’re going to that house, little rose, and that’s a goddamn order.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‡

  “Tess.”

  She ignored him, tugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She’d found it in the window seat of the bedroom she’d claimed at the Summerlin safe house then instantly wrapped herself in it, craving the symbolic refuge as much as the real.

  Even so, she wished the thing would become a full invisibility cloak. That would mean she couldn’t enjoy the view of the lake—Caspar had been right; it was awesome—not that she saw it, anyway. She was numb. Sealed off. Barriers up. Nothing in, nothing out. She couldn’t drool over her luxurious surroundings or even laugh at the family of ducks on the patio below, shaking their backsides after a midnight dip in the water. She certainly couldn’t risk a speck of fear for everyone, even herself, who had targets on their backs courtesy of that bastard, Kirk Newport.

  Letting any of it in meant letting all of it in. That meant remembering the blast from two hours ago that had dropped her to her knees in the middle of Dan’s living room. Warp core breached, Captain. She’d proved that by shivering through the most agonizing minute of her life, before letting Devyn yank her up and help her out the door.

  Between there and here, everything had turned into a blur. It was for the best. Even slivers of memory made her ball up, knees to chest, checking the shields in her soul for full coverage.

  Thing was, she wasn’t sure they all still worked. The gears of her emotional defenses were rusty, too rusty, not having to be activated since the day after her eighteenth birthday, when she’d hauled the last of her moving boxes from home.

  No. Not home. Just Mother and Father’s house. That place had never been home.

  A home was a place for feeling wanted. Accepted. Safe.

  She’d found home after that—at least parts of it, here and there. At college, where classmates and professors helped her grow and flourish, then at the Agency, where the days were challenging and the fulfillment was high, finally giving her the feeling that she’d gotten something right in her life.

  Then there’d been Dan.

  Meeting Dan. Knowing Dan. Trusting Dan.

  Home. He’d been home. Or at least the closest she’d ever come to knowing it in her life.

  Had all of that been a lie, too?

  Who the hell was he? Who was the man she’d entrusted with so many deep secrets? With whom she’d shared so many laughs—and tears? Who’d put up with her dorky princess cartoons, brought her cheesy balloons on her birthday, always let her have the chunkiest pieces of the guacamole, even the last spoonful on ice cream cheat night?

  Who’d told her he could never dominate her—then went ahead and did it as another person. Then did it again—and put the cherry on that shit-fun sundae by telling her they could never meet like that again.

  Why?

  What the hell was wrong with her that he had to become a different person to be intimate with her? What was wrong with Tess but right about Odette? Was it the whole coworker thing—though technically, right now, they weren’t even that? And what had she gotten so wrong about submitting to him that he’d called it all off after their second amazing night?

  Amazing for you, maybe…

  Maybe it really was just her. Maybe all of this had just been written in the stars since the day she was born, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to change it. She’d always be the middle one. The disposable one. Getting it all right still wasn’t good enough, even for the lover who’d made her feel, at least for a week, that “good” was just the beginning of what she could accomplish.

  Maybe it was pointless to even continue trying.

  “Tess.”

  “Go away, Daniel.”

  “No.”

  Despite the order, he maintained his position in the doorway. Tess didn’t move. With her head turned, she was able to focus on every detail of his voice, all the things even the voice disk couldn’t cloak. Why hadn’t she picked up on it before? The core of baritone command. The subtle Atlanta accent. The husky word endings that wrapped their way around every nerve ending in her body, even now.

  “I can’t do this, Dan.”

  “I can’t leave until you do.”

  “I’m reeling.”

  “I know.”

  The sky flashed over the lake. A thunderstorm was approaching, even as the moon snuck from between the clouds to drench the landscape in silver. She winced, almost shutting it all out, feeling as if she peered into a mirror instead of a window—if mirrors could reflect the depths of souls, too. Hers was an equal palette of darkness, fighting the bursts of memory that kept trying to take over, painfully hot and blinding. When they weren’t, the electricity lingered on every particle of the air, razing her composure, singeing her nerves—all because he still stood there.

  Dammit.

  Even now, he could do this to her. Make her feel just like the lake outside: churning, waiting—needing the strike of his lightning to feel completely alive.

  But what was lightning when it was a lie?

  Just a cloud. Filled with ice. With nowhere to go.

  “Tess.”

  “No. Daniel, pl
ease—just go away!”

  Of course, he took two stomps into the room. Looked like he wanted to swear but didn’t. Slammed out a breath through his nose. “Look…I—” An inhale now, sharp and angry. “I had no idea you’d be at Catacomb that night.”

  She huffed. “No shit.”

  “I—”

  “Was just there with your handy mask and voice disguise, figuring you’d check out what was up in submissive tail for the night? Good on you, Dark Knight.”

  She grabbed her chance to lob an over-the-shoulder glare, but instantly regretted it. Damn. He was painfully beautiful to take in. His gaze pierced her like sunlight through blue glass. His body, clad now in mission gear consisting of a black skintight T-shirt and cargo pants, was perfect as a life-size GI Joe. Even with anguish possessing every inch of him, he was flawless.

  No. He’s not in anguish. He’s in pain. And shame. He hid himself from you then came clean only because he had to. He shattered your trust, your friendship—

  Your heart.

  “Hell,” he gritted. “I was only there to visit, okay? Max Brickham is a friend. I had no intentions but to wish him the best with the club.” He dared another step. “Then I turned around, and saw you there…”

  “And wasn’t that convenient?” she spat.

  “You think that was pleasant for me? In any fucking sense of the word?” He pounded closer, baring locked teeth. “Do you think I kicked up my heels at seeing you there, your skin spilling out of that corset, looking like a goddamn Dominant’s dream?”

  “But not yours.” She seethed it while flinging off the blanket, pivoting to fully face him. “You told me you didn’t want me. You told me to my damn face, that you wouldn’t even think about stepping into a dungeon with me!”

  “No.” He leaned closer. “Not that I wouldn’t think about it. That I couldn’t. That I didn’t want to fuck up what we had already.” His hands spread, fingers jerking as if he wanted to reach for her, but he lowered them back into taut fists. “What I found with you, Tess…what we had…well, I’ve never done that with a woman before.” He looked away, peering out the window himself, as if he’d lost something out in the lake, too. “It was so…real. And honest. And so damn good.”

  She gripped the edge of the window seat. Dipped her head to stave the tears before whispering, “Yeah. It was.”

  “So do you get it?” he pressed. “Now? Even a little? How we couldn’t have turned off the D/s part of things? How it would have changed everything?”

  Rain began to spatter the window behind her. A thousand thoughts were just as persistent, bringing a flood of…

  Understanding.

  Dammit.

  He was right. As much as she fought against the admission, it was true. Pieces of their first scene flowed back to her in longer ribbons of recall. The demands he’d made of her. The boundaries he’d pushed. The way he’d restrained her, filled her, been in complete control of her. She’d never have surrendered all that to Daniel Colton. With the griffin, she had nothing to lose. It had been the key to her complete freedom.

  “But why didn’t you tell me?” She jerked her gaze up at him. “After that first session? Why, Daniel?” As more memory pushed in, fury drove her to her feet. “You left. You said you had ‘business out of town.’ What the hell?”

  He finally lifted a fist. Pushed it against the frame of the window seat. “That sucked. It was wrong.”

  “Damn straight it was.”

  “I’m sorry, Tess. So fucking sorry.”

  “Damn right you are.”

  But it still didn’t provide her with an explanation. The jagged set of his face proclaimed he knew it, too.

  “I…panicked,” he finally uttered. “I know it’s lame, but—”

  “Lame doesn’t come close to it, mister.”

  “I thought it was the best for you.”

  Okay, that one was the lame kicker. But as Tess stood, debating her best choices for calling him on the bullshit, something equally outrageous occurred. Her stare locked once more with his—and she saw that he meant it. Every damn word.

  “I panicked,” he rushed on, “because everything we shared in the dungeon that night was—” He shoved out another breath. “Well, it was fucking amazing, was what it was.”

  “You sound surprised by that.”

  A sheepish grin quirked his lips. “Surprised doesn’t come close to it, dear one.” As if using her own words and her favorite endearment weren’t panty-dissolving enough, he pivoted to face her, filling her gaze with his tall, graceful, not-an-inch-of-soft glory. Looking too damn much like he had when first approaching her at Catacomb—without his signature accessory. Translation: no more mask shadows to hide the intensity of his eyes, the determined lines of his jaw. Nothing to dilute how her body still responded to him like a tigress in heat, brutal and raw and hot…

  “So surprised is a bad thing?” She zeroed her focus in on the offense, just to keep the confrontation grounded. Fine; the man flipped every lust switch she had, especially now that she realized her best friend was also the hottest lover she’d ever had. That didn’t change a damn thing about the rest of the truth he owed her.

  “No,” Dan replied. “Not a bad thing. But that night, it also wasn’t a good thing.”

  She scowled. “Do I want to know why?”

  He pushed off the wall. Moved close again, his face given to deep contemplation. Just before he spoke again, he stroked her cheek with the back of a hand. “I approached you in that living room because I couldn’t bear to think of anyone else touching you. My concern wasn’t ‘brotherly’ or ‘friendly,’ Tess. The second I saw you, my blood was on fire and my cock turned to steel.”

  Her lips popped open. After working her tongue between them several times, the heady shock of his confession subsided enough for her to squeak, “Oh. That’s…nice.”

  “That’s not nice,” he flung. “I had no business approaching you, not when I knew I couldn’t give you anything lasting with this fucked-up psyche and this half-monster face, but I did it, anyway. I did it because I was selfish—because I didn’t want any other man to be responsible for your first experience in that dungeon.” His caress changed. He stretched his fingers along her jaw, curling the tips into her hairline. “No other man in that place knew you as well as me. Nobody else would have cared that everything about that night be as perfect as you’d dreamed.”

  As if controlled by another, her arm rose. Her hand flattened to his face, mirroring his touch. “And it was,” she whispered. “Oh God, Daniel. You have no idea…”

  “I have every idea.” He slid in tighter, fitting the rest of his body against hers. Tess’s breath left her in a quiver as each awareness struck her senses. Her breasts to his chest. His thighs around her hips. His cock notched to her cleft. “I have every idea because it was like that for me, too.” His breath warmed her forehead. “Getting to restrain you…hurt you…push you…” He tangled his hand in her hair, fisting the strands until she gasped. “Then getting to please you…arouse you…fuck you…”

  “Heaven,” Tess whispered.

  “Heaven.” His echo was thick and rough, resonating in the deepest parts of her spirit, not just her libido. Shit. You’re in trouble, girl. Proof: she seriously played with ditching the vow about giving in to the lusties. Luckily, Dan resolved the challenge, pulling away enough to let her grab half a brain. “But it was a heaven I had to disconnect from,” he went on. “I knew it as soon as I laid you down in that aftercare nook and watched you sleep in my arms. I knew that if I waited until you woke up, I’d be tempted to lay you flat, spread you wide, and bury myself inside you all over again. And that, I likely wouldn’t have survived in anonymity.”

  “You watched me sleep?” Dammit, that wasn’t supposed to soften her to what he’d done. Too late. Clear as if it happened now, she imagined him on the palette in the dungeon, watching over her sleeping form with that midnight intensity in his eyes.

  “For a long time,” Dan co
nfirmed. “That part, I was glad for. It firmed my resolve about not ever touching you as a Dominant again.” His hand wound in her hair again. The other he gripped to her waist, fisting the red cotton T-shirt she’d changed into when arriving here. “Being with you like that…every damn moment of it…was a seismic rift to my soul. Tess,”—he drew her in closer, cranking the heat between them again—“you were everything—everything—I’d ever dreamed of in a submissive.” A funny huff escaped him, tugging at his scars, signaling that he drew on thoughts that ran deep. “But I was damn sure that if I ever had you in a playroom again, I wouldn’t get so lucky about calling in favors from fate.”

  The revelation yanked twenty seconds of air from her. As soon as her lungs relented, she blurted, “But you dialed again, anyway.” Literally. Her heart tripped over itself again, remembering how growly and impatient he’d been when calling her at the office. I want to see you again, Odette. The sooner, the better.

  “Yeah.” He actually smiled. “I dialed again. As fast as I could.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Little intervention, courtesy of your sub drop.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” His grin plummeted. “Oh. As in oh, hell no was I going to let that blister fester in your mind. You weren’t going to go through another day of feeling like that, if I could help it.”

  She wanted to let her chest do more backflips from that—his angry protectiveness spoke to so many of the parts inside that had never been sheltered by anyone—but her heart had a heckler. A big, nasty, frustrated one, bellowing loudly enough to make her finally speak its message out loud.

  “Then why didn’t you just tell me the truth then?”

  She took advantage of his first reaction, a long second of caught-with-his-pants-down, to break free from his hold.

  “Why’d you let me continue in the dark, Daniel? Why’d you let me keep thinking I was a slut, an idiot, or both to keep aching for a Dom I didn’t even know?”

  “Didn’t know?” He dipped his head, underlining the question. “Do you really mean that, rose?”