Out of Control

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Bastard.”

  He cupped her chin, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “But, I would rather you go willingly.”

  “Not. Gonna. Happen,” she snapped, hoping he didn’t feel her shiver as the heat of his fingers warmed her to the tip of her toes.

  And lots of interesting places in between.

  His eyes darkened, but this time it was with a stark hunger that made her heart pound.

  “What if I say pretty please?” he asked in a low, compelling voice, his thumb brushing over her lower lip.

  “Stop that.”

  His hooded gaze studied her upturned face, something perilously close to possession in his dark expression.

  “Ah, if only it was so simple.”

  Her mouth went dry as her body instinctively arched toward his solid strength. Dang it. She’d lusted after him for so long. Weaving impossible fantasies in her head.

  Now her body didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t supposed to be melting beneath his touch.

  Traitorous hormones.

  “Niko.” His name came as a breathy whisper instead of the protest she intended.

  He muttered a low curse as his head lowered so he could brush his mouth along the sensitive curve of her neck.

  “I like hearing my name on your lips.”

  Her hands lifted to clutch at the cashmere softness of his sweater as he nuzzled a path upward. Oh . . . crap. It felt soooo good.

  The sort of good that made smart women do stupid things.

  “I’m mad at you,” she managed to mutter.

  He found the pulse that thundered just below her jaw, stroking it with the rough rasp of his tongue before giving it a tiny nip.

  “I know.”

  Angela gasped at the primitive stab of pleasure that arrowed through her.

  Her limited experience with the opposite sex included a few fumbled kisses, even more fumbled squeezes of her breasts followed by a quickie in her long forgotten boyfriend’s dorm room.

  Nothing that made her anxious to find a new lover in the past three years.

  Not until Niko had prowled into her lab.

  Clearly even a female as embarrassingly naïve as she was could sense a man with the ability to please a woman.

  She moaned as he outlined her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “You will,” he promised, stealing a deep, drugging kiss.

  She briefly savored the taste of warm male desire, her stomach clenching with anticipation as she felt the hard thrust of his arousal.

  This was what she’d sensed the minute he’d walked into the lab.

  This smoldering attraction that could burn her to cinders.

  Reluctantly she pulled back, her rasping breath the only sound to disturb the silence.

  “Just because you can get me into bed?”

  “Because I’m going to devote myself to proving I’ll never hurt you again,” he promised, his gaze locked on her lips that still tingled from his touch. “No matter how long it takes.”

  She struggled to think.

  Who knew it could be such a difficult task?

  “Why?”

  His finger brushed her heated cheek. “Hmmm?”

  “Why are you concerned that I would be hurt now?” she persisted. “It’s not like you gave a rat’s ass for the past six weeks.”

  He met her accusing gaze, his expression somber. “The Sentinels—the ones who Dylan murdered—were two of my closest friends.” He grimaced. “The pain of their loss blinded me.”

  She refused to be swayed by the edge of pain in his voice.

  “So not all Sentinels are so cold-blooded?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Oh, we’re cold-blooded, especially when we’re tracking prey.” His hand gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But a part of our mission is always to protect the innocent.”

  A tiny part of Niko knew that he was behaving badly.

  Again.

  The poor female had nearly been kidnapped by a homicidal freak who looked like the definition of a monster. She’d discovered the man she’d come to trust had used her as a pawn. And then forced her against her will to travel to this remote cabin.

  And that didn’t even include the revelation she was also one of the freaks. Something she’d obviously refused to process.

  She was shaken, scared, and mad as hell.

  But was he offering her comfort? Giving her the space she needed to come to terms with the upheavals in her life?

  No.

  He’d barely got her through the door before he had her in his arms, kissing her as if he’d already claimed her as his own.

  But while the small shred of decency that had survived his years as a Sentinel urged him to release her, he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.

  He needed to touch her. It was a physical ache that he couldn’t deny.

  “And now?” she asked, her defiant expression doing nothing to hide the vulnerability in her wide, velvet-brown eyes.

  His fingers skimmed down the curve of her neck. “Now my first priority is to make certain you’re out of harm’s way.”

  A fine tremor shook her body as his fingers continued down to trace the prominent line of her collarbone exposed by the drooping neckline of her sweatshirt.

  Not that she was about to admit her ready response to his touch.

  Once—before she’d discovered the truth—she would have eagerly shared her desire. It had been obvious in every shy smile and charming blush when he walked into a room.

  The fact that he’d driven her to hide her desire was a raw regret that was going to torture him for the rest of his life.

  “And then you’ll return to the hunt for Dylan?” she pressed.

  He shrugged. Just six weeks ago he would have been infuriated by the mere question. Nothing was more important than tracking down the bitch who’d killed his friends.

  But his priorities had changed. While he would never be satisfied until Dylan was brought to justice, his focus was now on ensuring that Angela was protected.

  “That will be the decision of the Tagos,” he said.

  She frowned. “What’s a Tagos?”

  “The commander of the Sentinels.”

  “And what will happen to me?”

  “One problem at a time, angel,” he murmured, forcing himself to step back so he could pull his cell phone from his pocket.

  “Wait,” she said, grasping his arm, her expression troubled.

  “What is it?”

  “I haven’t agreed to go with you.”

  He squashed his impulse to inform her that he didn’t need her consent. After years of giving commands and having them obeyed, he was going to have to learn the art of negotiation.

  A wry smile twisted his lips. He suspected it wouldn’t be the first, or the last change he would have to make for this female.

  “Fine, but I have to check in and let them know Dylan is still out there,” he said.

  She regarded him with open suspicion. “No tricks?”

  “No tricks.” He leaned down to brush his lips over her furrowed brow. “The kitchen is fully stocked. See if there’s anything that you’d like for dinner.”

  She took a hasty step backward, a revealing blush staining her cheeks.

  “What about you?”

  He swallowed a groan, the sweet taste of her skin clinging to his lips and the scent of her frustrated desire teasing his nose.

  Sometimes superior senses weren’t always a bonus.

  “Me?”

  “You eat, don’t you?”

  His gaze drifted down the length of her slender body before returning to meet her wide gaze.

  “What I’m hungry for isn’t in the kitchen.”

  Her lips parted, but perhaps aware he was looking for any excuse to yank her back into his arms and consume her on the spot, she turned to scurry toward the wide doors that led to the back of the cabin.

  He breat
hed deeply of her lingering scent before pressing the number to Valhalla on his cell phone.

  Within seconds he was patched through to Wolfe, the current Talos, and all-around badass.

  “You have her?” the powerful leader of the Sentinels demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.

  “Not Dylan, but I have the scientist.”

  “You let your prey escape?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a startled silence before Wolfe sucked in an audible breath.

  “Talk to me, Niko.”

  “I’ve been . . .” It took an effort to say the word he’d never thought he’d utter. “Compromised.”

  Wolfe muttered a low curse. “Explain.”

  “I’m no longer impartial,” he said, proving the point as he crossed the room so he could keep Angela in sight as she entered the kitchen. “I’m afraid my judgment can’t be trusted.”

  “None of us are impartial,” Wolfe said in rough tones, the words thick with self-disgust. As Tagos, Wolfe held himself personally responsible for the death of Adam and Fiona. Not that he wouldn’t have even if he wasn’t the leader. Calling Wolfe a control freak was like calling a nuclear bomb a small explosive. “Dylan’s betrayal has affected us all.”

  “This is more than my thirst for revenge,” Niko confessed without apology. Odd. He should be horrified by the thought that he was about to let a female come between him and his duty. Instead all he wanted was to be done with the conversation so he could head into the kitchen. “I’ve allowed myself to become personally invested in Angela.”

  “The scientist?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, well.”

  Niko ignored the mocking drawl in his friend’s voice. Wolfe was notorious for his belief that Sentinels shouldn’t allow distractions in their lives. Lovers were fine as long as they understood they came in a distant second place to the job.

  “I need to get her to Valhalla,” he said. “But there might be a problem.”

  He could sense that Wolfe was on instant alert. “Why? It’s not that long a drive.”

  Niko grimaced. “No, but I can’t be sure Dylan is working alone. I’d be vulnerable to attack on the road.”

  “There’s something else.”

  Niko rolled his eyes. All Sentinels were hyperperceptive. It was part of their special ability.

  But Wolfe was very close to being a psychic.

  Annoying bastard.

  “Angela is not entirely pleased by the thought of going to the freak-house,” he muttered. “I can’t be sure that once we’re away from a controlled environment she won’t try to escape.”

  Wolfe’s bark of laughter echoed through the phone. “She hasn’t become a slave to your charm? There was a time when you only had to smile to get a woman to devote herself to your pleasure. You must be losing your touch, old man.”

  Niko ignored the insult. He couldn’t tease about his feelings for Angela. Or the fact that he’d hurt her so badly he couldn’t be sure she would ever forgive him.

  “Give me a few hours to convince her that I’m not entirely evil.”

  “Hmmm. Do you intend to do this convincing in the bedroom?”

  “Not your business.”

  Wolfe gave a short laugh that ended on a weary sigh. “Maybe it’s for the best. Things are . . . tense right now.”

  “Because of Dylan?”

  “No. The Mave is convinced we’ll be able to clean up that nasty business.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m not entirely certain, but it has something to do with the necros. Which means their Sentinels refuse to leave their sides. You know how overprotective they are.”

  Necromancers (or diviners as they preferred to be called) were bonded to a guardian Sentinel while they were still young, never leaving the protection of Valhalla or outlying compounds without one at their side.

  “A threat?”

  Wolfe made a sound of disgust. “Why would they tell me? I am, after all, only the leader of the Sentinels. It’s not like I need to be kept in the damned loop.”

  Niko grimaced. Politics sucked. Especially for a man who had the tact of a raging bull.

  “Arel shouldn’t be too far away,” he said, eager to change the conversation. “Could you have him join me at the cabin? The sooner he can get on Dylan’s trail the better.”

  Instantly Wolfe was back in commander mode.

  “Will he need backup?”

  The memory of the hatred blazing in Dylan’s crimson eyes made the question easy to answer.

  “Yes, but don’t tell him I said so.”

  “You got it, although it will be a few hours before any backup can get there since they have to drive.” A pause. “Niko.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take care of yourself.”

  “Always.”

  “Oh, and give that scientist a kiss for me.”

  Not a chance in hell.

  “You should know by now, Wolfe, I don’t share,” he growled.

  Chapter Six

  Angela was impressed.

  So this was what a kitchen was supposed to look like, she wryly acknowledged.

  It was more than the hand-carved cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. It was the heavy oak dining table in the center of the ceramic tiled floor and the matching china cabinet that displayed the prized dishware.

  This was a place where families gathered to share meals and laugh away the troubles of the day.

  It wasn’t a makeshift lab for a distracted scientist. Or a place for a child to sit alone with dinner from the microwave while her mother was flirting with her fellow drunks at the nearest bar.

  She squashed the ridiculous pang. She wasn’t that lonely ten-year-old girl anymore and she was perfectly happy with her private apartment and her kitchen filled with microscopes.

  Pulling a water bottle from the fully loaded fridge, she was debating between a salad and a tuna sandwich when a husky voice whispered in her ear.

  “Did you find anything to tempt your appetite?”

  With a muffled shriek she turned to glare at the man towering over her.

  “Dammit,” she muttered, pressing a hand to her racing heart. “You really need to wear a bell.”

  He flashed his rare, bone-melting grin. “Kinky, but whatever turns you on.”

  She swallowed a groan as desire blazed through her with stunning force.

  Even furious with his betrayal and unnerved by the disruption of her peaceful life, she still wanted him with a raw, aching need that was frightening.

  Against her will her gaze drank in the lean, starkly beautiful face and stunning blue eyes that studied her with an unwavering intensity. His hair was even more ruffled than usual and her fingers itched to smooth the dark strands that shimmered like copper in the fading afternoon sunlight.

  Then they could travel down to discover if his body was the chiseled perfection she’d always fantasized.

  Abruptly realizing his eyes had darkened, as if he could actually sense her disturbing awareness, she shut the fridge door. Instantly she stepped back as his heat wrapped around her.

  “How long did you have to practice sneaking up on people?” she breathed, shivering at the prickles that raced over her skin.

  “It’s a natural talent.” He closed the tiny space between them, reaching to pluck the water bottle from her hand and tossed it into the recycle bin. “One of many.”

  She licked her dry lips. “Is modesty another natural talent?”

  “No, but this is.”

  He leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss of sheer possession.

  “Niko,” she muttered, the breath squeezed from her lungs as he wrapped his arms around her, moving slowly, as if to give her ample opportunity to step away.

  Or perhaps he was worried his superior powers would frighten her, she realized as he gently tugged her against him.

  Tilting back her head she met his smoldering gaze.

  “Tell me no and
this ends now,” he husked.

  Her lips parted, but the word was stuck in her throat. “I thought you wanted dinner?” she instead hedged.

  His hand shifted to her lower back, pressing her against the thickening length of his arousal.

  “You know what I want.”

  She shivered, her hands lifting to rest against his chest. “Do I?”

  His tongue traced the curve of her lower lip. “I can demonstrate if you need clarification.”

  Oh, she wanted him to demonstrate.

  She wanted him to rip off her clothes and take her in a glorious storm of pagan passion. She wanted him to kiss her with a hunger that would drown out the voice of insecurity that whispered in the back of her mind.

  “It seems—”

  “What?”

  “Convenient.”

  “Convenient?” He made a sound of disbelief. “Trust me, lusting after a female for six weeks is anything but convenient.”

  “If you were so overwhelmed with lust you hid it well enough. I did everything but spread myself naked on the lab table and you couldn’t have shown less interest.” She lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the memory of her awkward flirtations and his blatant apathy. He’d only reinforced her opinion she was lacking the mysterious quality that attracted the opposite sex. “Now, when you need my cooperation, you suddenly find me irresistible.”

  “Angel, look at me,” he said, cupping a hand beneath her chin, urging her face up to meet his eyes that were darkened with regret.

  “I’m looking,” she muttered.

  “It might not have been my intention to hurt you, but I did,” he said softly. “You felt betrayed by my charade; can you imagine how much worse it would have been if I’d given in to my desire and taken you to my bed? Not even I am that much a bastard.”

  The resentment she’d been nursing for the past few hours faltered at his low words.

  “So it was for my own good?”

  His gaze slid to her mouth. “It certainly wasn’t for mine.”

  He had a point, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. She wasn’t sure she’d ever have been able to forgive him if he’d actually taken her as a lover while he’d been lying to her.

  Still, that didn’t mean this wasn’t just another game.

  “If you say.”