by Black, Regan
Callahan took advantage of Jameson's daydreaming to plant a kick to his abs, stealing his breath.
Jameson recovered quick enough, grateful the CO wasn't going all out as he blocked a jab and the knee strike that followed.
They circled, lashed out, backed off, and repeated the cycle. Jameson heard the occasional cheer and realized they'd drawn a crowd.
He saw the roundhouse kick coming at his jaw and ducked, feeling the whoosh of air as Callahan's foot passed over his head. He rolled, but as he came to his feet, one of the spectators grabbed him from behind.
Self-defense, sparring, he was up for the multi-tasking. He threw his head back, connecting with the attacker's nose and got clear before Callahan could close in and use his gut as a punching bag.
They grappled again and he finally slid under Callahan's guard and took him to the mat.
"You win," Callahan said through gritted teeth, double tapping the mat. "Get off me."
Jameson popped up to his feet, feeling great. The workout, the resulting endorphins were just what he needed. But the shine dulled a bit when he saw Callahan cradling his shoulder. "You okay?"
The other man nodded.
"Hey Jameson!" Cali brought him a towel. "She wants to see you."
He perked up. "Where is she?"
"Same place we left her. That'll be her guest suite while she's here."
"Thanks." He didn't bother wondering where he was bunking. He intended to convince her to let him be her personal security guard twenty-four/seven.
When Jameson was out of earshot, Cali looked up at Nathan and Gideon. "Did he pass?"
"He barely broke a sweat," Nathan said, gingerly assessing his crushed nose.
Gideon agreed. "He's got no idea." He rubbed the shoulder. "Thinks I was going easy."
"Thought you had a couple definite knockout strikes, but he didn't go down," Nathan added. "How's my nose look?"
"Let's just say I hope Mira's in a mood to fix it." She gave him a very careful kiss on his lips and wrapped her arms around his waist. "So I was right?"
"I'd say so." Gideon's scowl was back and worse than before. "Whatever happened in that lab changed him too."
Cali told him about the anticoagulant formula Mira found in the lab. "So how does this change your mission?"
"It doesn't." Gideon rolled his shoulder and winced. "Her father still needs rescued. Once I send this up the line, I don't expect Montalbano will be allowed to sell that formula."
He thanked Cali and Nathan for their support and limped out of the gym.
* * *
Riding the adrenaline rush of sparring with Callahan, Jameson took the stairs rather than the elevator up to Mira's room. He managed to knock politely when he wanted to barge in and start demanding answers. Or kisses.
When he saw her face, sad and wary, he decided answers and kisses could wait. "Cali said you wanted to see me?"
She nodded and invited him in. "I wanted to apologize."
"For what?"
Her lips parted in surprise and then moved again as she gave her explanation. He supposed he should be listening, but he was focused on her mouth, remembering how soft and warm her lips were.
"...bitch."
What? "Huh? Pardon me?" He scrambled to pull his thoughts back together and went with his best guess. "Hey. No. You weren't being a bitch. There's a lot to deal with right now."
"So you're just going to forgive me?"
"Nothing to forgive. Though my feelings might be bruised." He stepped closer to her. "Maybe a kiss will make me feel better."
Her eyes sparked with a bit of heat now. He preferred that over the sadness. "Maybe not."
Too bad. He thought for sure that would've worked. "Why not?"
She sidestepped around him and planted herself in front of the monitor on the wall. "Because I can't think when you kiss me and I have a lot to think about right now."
"Fair enough." He walked over and turned off the monitor. "Now you have less to think about."
"Jameson."
"Brent," he corrected, wishing she'd use his first name. "Besides, it's a proven fact that taking a break can actually improve problem solving."
"Inviting you back up here was a bad idea."
"Not from where I'm standing."
"Stop it. I just didn't want to be alone."
He liked the rise of color in her cheeks. "Did Cali lock you in here with homework or something?"
"Something like that. Did you all go to Micky's conference room and talk about me and my dad?"
"Nah. A few of us went down to the gym and beat up on each other. Getting physical is great for relieving tension."
"You don't look any worse for it."
"It was just a light practice. I feel great. Endorphins, right?"
She nodded, but he could tell he was losing her to whatever Cali had said. "Come on and sit down. I'll be good company." He held up his right hand as if taking an oath. "I even promise to behave."
She nodded again and settled on one end of the couch with the hand held Cali had used earlier. Taking the opposite end, he tried to relax and be good, quiet company.
"Do you know what you're looking for?"
She didn't even look up. "At the moment I'm reading the old texts for any clue about what happened and..."
"And," he prompted when her voice just trailed off.
After another moment, she lifted her gaze, capturing his. "The enforcers who were in the office. You said they were the same pair who attacked you the other night?"
"Yes." His stomach sank. He didn't want to go here, not while he was riding the endorphins and wanting to connect on a more personal level.
"But you'd never seen Luke before?"
He shook his head.
"And they died while you were interrogating them?"
"Yes." He hated the uncertainty clouding her eyes. "Just ask me."
She bit her lip as if she could hold back the words, but they got through. "Did you kill them?"
Even knowing it was coming, it hurt that she thought he could kill in cold blood. Though what else she was supposed to think? She didn't really know him that well.
"No."
She sat unnaturally still, her eyes wide as she studied him. He knew enough about her to realize her stillness was a sign of stress or nerves. Like this, he knew she was literally trying to keep herself together.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. The bullets in my gun were rubber."
"You shot them?"
"What? Are enforcers allergic to rubber?"
She finally moved, unable to stop a wry smile. "No."
"Look, Mira. Luke Conrad didn't explain what happened to his buddies. I did the standard questions, played the divide and conquer game, but they weren't going to give me anything. They knew the ammo wasn't lethal, but the three of them just looked at each other and...And the two of them fell over dead."
She paled. "That's a myth!"
"Looked pretty real to me. And to Conrad."
Her eyes welled up and tears rolled down her cheeks. He felt horrible. "I called a clean up crew. If they got there before the fire, maybe Callahan knows who they were and what really killed them."
She shook her head, swiped at her tears. He couldn't stand it, he reached for her hand. "Honestly, it scared me."
She snorted.
"No, really."
"But death is what you special ops types do."
He shook his head. "The mission statement is about preserving life. Even when I don't want to. Yes, I've killed in the line of duty, but I promise you, I did not kill those men."
"What about Conrad?"
"What about him? Last time I saw him he was alive and feeling well enough to blow up the lab."
"You said he asked about me."
She didn't resist when he pulled her closer, tucking her back to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. Safe haven, he thought, feeling remarkably better himself as he offered her comfort.
"He
did. It made me angry. He was cuffed when I locked him in a closet, but he got out and blew up the lab, though he should've known you were in there."
He didn't think now was the right time to ask how Luke killed the sentry in the tunnel. Her hands relaxed over his and her touch was like cool water. His pulse kicked and his dick tried to. Tread carefully, he thought, not wanting to scare her off. He wanted to know her, to help her and care for her. Something about her had reached out and grabbed him by the throat from the first moment they'd met.
"I knew Luke when we were younger," she said softly. "I hadn't known he'd gone to the enforcers until he was with the team that picked me up."
His body didn't want to listen to this crap. Maybe he should've just stormed in and swept her off to the nearest flat surface and given her something to think about besides other men.
"He looked surprised to see me."
Jameson knew she was frowning. He gently stroked her arm as she continued.
"Maybe they didn't tell him I was the job. He was the only one who treated me with any respect during the trip back."
"Do the enforcers work in teams?"
"As I understand it, yes."
"What happened when they hauled you in?" If they hurt her, they should feel damn lucky they'd killed themselves.
"Nothing terrible. Just the standard intimidation and looming threats to damage me if I didn't cooperate."
"Damage? Is that code for something?"
She wriggled a bit and he realized temper had him embracing her too tightly. He loosened up and she turned to face him. Her eyes were bright with remembered fear.
"It just means they would subdue my gift. Most of the time people recover from that."
Most of the time? "Luke intervened?"
"Sort of. He wasn't particularly nice, but he didn't show that distant, mean streak of the others. This is all speculation and intuition really, but I got the sense that he was walking a fine line."
"Double agent?" He pushed a lock of her hair back behind her ear and smiled when her eyes drifted closed.
"Mmm. Jameson, that feels good."
"You can call me Brent." She felt better than good, as her supple body melted against him. He couldn't take his eyes off her lovely face and wondered what amused her as her lips curved just a little.
"Can't be a double agent. We're healers, not spies."
Based on recent events he wasn't so sure about that. "Your community has a governing body, right?
"We have leadership, sure."
"Governments are notoriously riddled with politics, shady characters, and power brokers."
"Uh-huh."
He grinned, amazed she couldn't feel how badly he wanted to nibble her tempting lips. He kept stroking her silky hair, fantasizing about stroking the rest of her.
"Is each community independent of the others?"
"Pretty much."
"No world summit for healers?"
He felt her soft chuckle everywhere their bodies touched. Desire reared up, ready to take over. He marveled that his hand was steady as he smoothed her hair back again and again. It was like a curtain of the softest night. He wrapped it around his fingers, brought it to his lips. The soft floral scent soothed and inflamed at the same time.
To keep from jumping her, he searched for the common ground, beyond this situation, beyond the physical attraction.
"Why the Army?" He pushed his fingers under her hair to massage the warm column of her neck. She felt so delicate, but he knew better.
She leaned into his touch and her response was so quiet he nearly missed it.
"More travel."
"Ah, less chance to get caught."
Her brow puckered and she pouted just a bit. "Got caught anyway."
Jameson couldn't resist that pout. He tipped her chin up and dropped a kiss on her brow, then another, feather light, on her lips.
She sighed, shifted, and pressed closer to him. He let the kiss build slowly. Knowing where he wanted to end up, he let her determine how fast, how much more, she wanted from him.
Her strong, capable hands found his shoulders when she turned her body flush to his. He stroked his hands down her back, molding the sweet curve of her hips as he flexed his own, letting her feel the effect she had on him.
He felt her smile and the gasp when he nipped her full bottom lip. She leaned back and he watched, mesmerized as her tongue slowly caressed the spot. For a moment, she was absolutely still again, except for the energy humming between them. His heart hammered, his dick throbbed with need, but he didn't move, didn't blink, for fear of pushing her away.
Her blue eyes were dark with passion as she studied him. Every heartbeat felt like a lifetime until finally she moved, fusing her mouth to his. Her tongue dipped inside and he sucked on it, enjoying the subsequent ripple of her body as she laughed.
When she mimicked the move his whole body jerked to attention. Her response was to grind her hips against him and he nearly lost it.
The kiss went on as he pushed his hands under her shirt to discover the warm, soft skin.
She sat back, peeling the shirt away, gifting him with an erotic view as her breasts swelled against the plain white cotton of her bra.
He sat up, eager to explore all that golden skin. She arched into his touch as he cupped her sweet breasts, cried out as he teased her nipples through the fabric, and shivered when he tossed the bra aside and blew against her damp skin.
He yanked off his own shirt and leaned back, pulling her down to revel – finally – in the feel of her skin on his as she kissed him senseless.
She found a sensitive spot on his neck and worked him into a fever as her hands cruised over every inch of him she could reach.
"I want you," she whispered against his ear and he nearly exploded on the spot.
"I'm yours."
He knew it was true, had been true since he laid eyes and that first kiss on her in that damned prison infirmary. Whatever pledges he'd made to God and country, he felt his priorities shift on a primal level. She came first now. Forever.
She leaned back and he let his hands roam over her long thighs while she fumbled with the tie of his warm up pants. As she drew the fabric down, his dick sprang up to greet her. Her uncertain expression was irresistible, but his eyes nearly rolled back in his head when she touched him.
"Like this," he said, molding her hand around his shaft. He almost regretted showing her, as the chemistry between them ignited.
He knew she felt it, knew the passion he saw in her eyes mirrored his own. She leaned down to kiss him with such innocent sweetness in contrast to the carnal way her hand worked him.
"I want you," she repeated with little kisses along his jaw. "To take me."
He didn't make her ask twice.
Clothing was peeled away and tossed aside until it was only her lovely smooth skin. "Beautiful," he murmured as he pulled her to her feet and explored every inch of her with mouth and hands, searching for that perfect balance between too fast and too slow.
She was panting when he reached her slick wet core. From his knees he watched her face as he teased her with his tongue once, then again when she moaned. He'd never been so hard in his life, never wanted to give as much pleasure as he did in this moment.
Pushing her to the crest, then over, he caught her when her knees gave out. Laying her back on the couch, he marveled at the sight when she opened her body to his.
He went willingly, sliding into her with one smooth stroke. He could have stayed just there, joined with her forever, as her hands glided over his body. It was perfect. She was perfect.
Her expression turned wicked as she squeezed him deep inside and bucked her hips. She was glorious as he set a rhythm that amped up the energy sizzling between them. Another orgasm ripped through her and he followed her over the edge this time.
As they floated in the afterglow, he tucked her close and smoothed her hair until he felt her drift to sleep.
If he couldn't get his mind off her
after just one kiss, he was a lost cause from this point forward. Nothing could have pleased him more.
Chapter 9
Oh, good God, what had she done? Conflicting answers rolled through her as she showered. Her body felt loose and happy, urging her to 'do it again'. True, physically this post-sex high felt better than the after effect of a great massage. Her heart wasn't nearly as upset as her brain. There was a sweet happy boost to her pulse when she thought of Jameson.
She couldn't seem to not think of him, of every sensual, exciting moment he'd given her. Of course she'd been with other men, though she couldn't recall names or faces at the moment. Jameson – Brent – eclipsed them all. Honestly, she almost regretted washing the spicy scent of him off her skin, but she'd never be able to concentrate if she didn't.
There were more resources to read over, more aged and stale references to the blue bubble experience. Had she done it on purpose or had it simply happened? Somewhere in the past she might even find a clue to her father's mysterious actions and the subsequent reactions of her order.
The bathroom door opened and shut. She panicked, knowing it could only be Jameson, that he'd already seen all of her. She never knew what to say after...not that she'd had much practice. She usually moved on quickly enough that it wasn't a problem.
Until him.
Now the idea of moving on made her queasy. She frowned, assessing. When she focused on being apart from him she nearly retched. "Oh, God."
"Why don't I feel complimented?" Jameson had the shower door open just a bit and winked at her.
"Not you. Umm." She tried to cover herself, then tried to not cover herself. "Sorry. Not sorry per se. Ah. Not what I meant." She didn't want to insult him, but she couldn't seem to push the right words out of her mouth in the proper order.
"I'm almost done." There, a coherent sentence.
"That would be something to apologize for."
Her body tingled, anticipating the sensual promises in his eyes. Her heart did a lovely pirouette. Her mind rejected all of the above.
"Really, I need to, ah, get back to the research," she finished lamely. Patting his shoulder she refused to let her gaze drift any lower. The broad, sculpted shoulders were more than enough temptation.