by Mina Carter
That small division in her focus didn’t mean she was unaware of the people in the corridor ahead of them though. There were a few more than she’d have expected on this level. VIP sections were usually secured to keep out the general population and the staff made sure not to be intrusive. Her warrior’s instincts picked up on two men approaching the lift from opposite directions. While both wore hospitality uniforms, neither walked like waiters. The towel one carried, and the dish cover in the hands of the other could easily conceal weapons. Crap, she hoped they were packing pulse pistols because gunshots hurt.
That was her last thought as she flicked the button on her jacket open before the shit hit the fan.
* * *
As focused as he was on Vann, Gabe immediately noticed the change in her behaviour. Since they’d left the courtroom, she’d been softer somehow… As though there was the tiniest chink in the warrior persona she pulled around herself like armour. He’d liked the glimpse of the woman beneath it. Really liked it. Then her back straightened and a hard look entered her eyes. Most people wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference, but with how attuned he was to her every movement…he knew in an instant.
The attack came from both sides, a couple of waiters pulling nasty-looking pulse pistols they shouldn’t have been able to get in here. Vann hissed, grabbing him by the back of his neck and shoving him down as she pulled the pistol from within her jacket. It stung his male pride a little to be manhandled and protected by a woman, but he’d seen Saragosians in action before. They were literally born and bred for war.
Laser fire filled the corridor for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality could only have been a few seconds before Vann’s hold was gone from the back of his neck. The waiter lay on the deck in front of him with a hole in the centre of his forehead. Sightless eyes stared at Gabe maliciously.
Heart in his throat, he turned to see her blocking a flurry of blows from the second waiter. The fight was too close for pistols but the guy tried. Vann moved like lightening, slapping the weapon out of his hand and delivering a combination of punches with dizzying speed. Screams around him brought his attention back to the staff in the corridor.
“Someone call security,” Gabe barked. “Now!”
He rose to his feet, concern for Vann filling him as he tried to work a way into the fight. As though she could read his mind, she snarled. “Take one more step, Buchanan, and I’ll stun you where you stand. I got this.”
And indeed she had. Twisting, she slammed a hard uppercut into her opponent’s jaw that knocked him back. Moving in, two body shots doubled him over. And just as he toppled, she ended the fight by slamming a hard knee up into his face just as security flooded the corridor.
“Sir? Are you okay?” the first one, a commander by the insignia on his collar, asked, his gaze sliding past Gabe to survey the scene.
“I am.” Gabe nodded curtly toward the man groaning on the floor. “Arrest this man and double the guard on him. I’ll want to speak to him in the morning. I also want to know how both these assholes got into a secured section with weaponry.”
The security officer nodded and then looked at Vann. “We’ll also need to take your companion into custody, sir. For questioning.”
He almost laughed at the idea of them trying to arrest Vann. It would be a bloodbath. Two men had already started to move to apprehend the Saragosian woman when Gabe’s voice sliced through the air. “I wouldn’t if I were you. She’s not only my personally selected bodyguard, but she’s also one of Rhade’s. Now, that’s a lady I wouldn’t want to piss off. Would you?”
At the mention of the infamous commander of Section Three, both security officers went pale and took a step back.
“We’ll remand her to your custody then, sir,” the commander said quickly. “If that works for you?”
Gabe nodded, letting none of his thoughts show on his face. “Perfectly. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s been a long day and I have case notes to review.”
“Of course, sir.” The security team moved aside to let them pass, and he strode off, looking over his shoulder to make sure Vann was following him.
She was, a sway to her hips and a hard look at the security team as she tucked her pulse pistol away in the shoulder holster. Looking up, she saw him watching her and for a moment his breath caught. She moved like the warrior she was… Danger and lethality wrapped up in one sexy as hell package he wanted nothing more than to unwrap.
“Come along, Vann,” he barked, clicking his fingers and striding off.
The little growl behind him said that had pissed her off. Good. A pissed off Vann was better than a Vann who was all soft and feminine and gave him ideas. Tension stretched out between them as he led the way to his suite. As his bodyguard, she didn’t have her own. She bunked where ever he was. At least, until Rhade’s team could get here.
The door slid open in front of them and he’d barely taken three steps through before Vann’s hand on his arm swung him around.
“What the fuck was all that about?” she growled, her beautiful eyes flashing with fire. “I save your life and you treat me like a fucking servant?”
Gabe clucked his tongue chidingly. “Language, young lady. It’s not becoming.”
He knew that wouldn’t get a good reaction, but he couldn’t help pushing her buttons. There was just something about her. He liked…needed…to see her off balance. And he managed it. Her eyes darkened dangerously, her fists clenching at her sides as though she’d like nothing more than to deck him. But she remembered she was technically on his payroll.
“Young?” She gave him a haughty look. “Screw you, I’m probably older than you are.”
“Yeah, right.” He lifted his head in challenge. “You look barely in your twenties. Perhaps I should talk to Rhade about someone with a little more life experience—”
She snarled. “I’ll give you life experience—”
He didn’t let her get any further, yanking her hard against him and crashing his mouth down over hers. He claimed her lips, brooking no opposition, as he’d wanted to from the moment he’d first seen her. Before he’d known she was Saragosian, before he’d known she was one of Rhade’s…no, he didn’t care. He just wanted a taste of her before she kneed him in the balls.
She didn’t though. Instead, she froze, hands splayed over his chest. He murmured in the back of his throat at the touch and bent his head to explore her lips further. They were soft, like warm silk, and…he had to be dreaming because she softened against him, her body curving into his embrace. Her lips parted on a soft sigh, allowing him access.
With a growl, he took what she offered and slid his tongue deep to twine around hers. To stroke and caress, tempting and teasing one moment, then blatantly demanding her response the next. Her breathing shortened, and her pliancy disappeared as she kissed him back, slowly at first, but then with the fire and passion he craved. He drove a hand through her hair, scattering hair pins as he bunched the golden locks in his fist, while the other slid around the back of her hips. Pressed. Held her against him so she could feel the rock-hard bar of his cock pressing against her belly.
She gasped, breaking the kiss to look up at him, a question in her eyes.
“Walk away,” he advised in a low, rough voice. “You don’t want to do this with me.”
And she didn’t. Because if he got her into bed, she was all his…
On his terms.
5
The man could kiss. Holy hells, could the man kiss.
Her breathing compromised, Kelis found herself looking up as his words sank in. Her chin lifted in challenge.
“And if I don’t want to walk away?”
She didn’t. As much a surprise as it was, there was just something about Buchanan that managed to breach her defences. Made her want to discover where this heat between them would lead.
His expression tightened, his nostrils flaring as the blue of his eyes turned to midnight. “Then you’re mine. All night. How I want, w
hen I want… as much as I want.”
Shivers of arousal flooded her body. Oh Lady, he was going to be the death of her.
“Is that supposed to scare me off?” she asked, spreading her hands out wider over his chest to slide them under the open jacket. She dropped her voice lower. “Because I have to warn you, we Vanns don’t scare easily. And a challenge like that…”
She reached up on tiptoe, realising again just how tall and broad he was and pressed her lips against his jaw. Stubble rasped her lips as she kissed a line toward his ear.
He growled again and his hand in her hair tightened, pulling her head back so that he could claim her lips again. He prised them apart with a hard sweep of his tongue and thrust deep to explore the softer recesses within. She moaned, trying to move against him but he held her firm. A silent message that he was in control.
Another shiver hit her, rolling the length of her spine as she quietened in his hold. She could have broken free with one of many moves, but she didn’t. This need for him, to cling to him and let him dominate her was new to her. She wasn’t an innocent; she’d had her fair share of rolls in the sleeping furs with handsome warriors, but Buchanan was different from men of her species. Darker somehow, more dangerous… she didn’t want to fight him for control. She wanted to give it to him willingly.
He stroked his tongue against hers, slid and thrust, wound it around and pulled back in a silent demand that she follow. Her soft moan seemed to please him and his kiss gentled for a second. He broke away to nip softly at her lower lip. The little hurt made her suck in a breath, and her pussy clenched. She ached for him to touch her, to fill her and ease the need within.
“What’s your name? Your given name,” he whispered roughly against her skin, kissing and nipping along her jaw. She tilted her head up to allow him better access.
“Kelis.”
“Pretty name,” he rumbled, finding the spot by her ear that made her breathing catch and her knees weaken. He caught her easily and pulled her up against his hard body. “Pretty name for a pretty lady. A pretty lady I want to do bad things to. And you’re going to let me, aren’t you, Kelis? You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you.”
The need for control radiated from him like a beacon and she nodded. She’d only known him a day, but her instincts told her that he’d never hurt her, not in that way. Her heart…that might be another matter.
He nipped her earlobe, sending a cascade of sparks through her body. “Say it, Kelis, or this stops now.”
Oh Lady, he wanted the words. Her breathing hitched, fingers digging into the front of his shoulders for support.
“I’m going to let you…do whatever you want.”
“Good girl.”
His voice was filled with approval as he bent to lift her. Not a hint of strain in his body, he wrapped her legs around his hips. The thick bar of his cock caught between them, pressing and grinding in the seam of her pussy lips, rubbing against her clit when he rocked his hips.
He smiled at her soft moan. “Oh yeah, you like that. There’s more where that came from.”
Hands cupping her ass, he walked them through the main room and straight into the bedroom. With heated, drugging kisses, he stole her awareness of where they were…of anything other than him. When they came up for air, their breathing was ragged and all she could think of was getting him down onto the bed behind them.
“You’re beautiful…” he murmured, letting go of her legs and sliding her down the front of his body. She tried to bite back the whimper that escaped her lips at the feel of his big, hard body against hers but failed miserably. Had he been Saragosian, she’d have been mortified at displaying such a weakness. But he wasn’t…and she wanted to feel his strength. Wanted his domination.
She expected him to tumble her to the bed, his hands everywhere as he ripped her clothes off her, but he didn’t. Instead, he stepped back, lowering himself to the single easy chair in the corner of the room.
“Strip,” he ordered, a hard expression in his azure eyes.
She froze, a sense of panic and disorientation filling her for a moment. “I’m not…”
Crap, was this the kind of woman he expected? She’d seen human women tempting their intended mates in bars with soft, sensual movements and feminine wiles. Kelis was a warrior. She’d never learnt any of that stuff.
“I’m a warrior. I don’t…haven’t…” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to do all that sexy stuff.”
His smile was purely carnal.
“Kitten, you don’t need to learn how to be sexy, everything about you is a walking, talking wet dream. See?”
He cupped his groin, the fabric taut over his crotch outlining the thick ridge of his cock. She swallowed slightly, the size making her knees weak. Fuck, and gossip said human men were smaller down there than Saragosians. Either Buchanan was gifted or that was utter bullshit. She didn’t care which it was, all she knew was she needed what he offered.
Her breath came in short pants and she nodded, hesitant fingers reaching for her jacket. Slowly, she peeled it off her shoulders, sliding it down her arms. It helped that he unbuckled his belt, eyes on her as he flicked the button on his pants.
Yes…that gave her something to focus on.
“Pants next,” he ordered, his voice a deep growl.
He slid the zipper on his own pants down, freeing his cock. She almost whimpered as it leaped into his big hand. It was huge, broad and thick with a bulbous, flushed head. He palmed his shaft, stroking from root to tip, and her pussy clenched. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life.
He carried on stroking as her fingers fumbled with the fastening on her pants. With jerky movements she shoved them off her hips, making to step out of the high heels he’d insisted she wear, but a shake of his head stopped her.
“Leave them on.”
She nodded, no argument as she stepped out of the pants, her long legs bared to his gaze.
“Shirt. Slowly.”
She nodded, slipping off her shoulder holster and dropping it carefully by the bed. Sure, she might have agreed to be his any way he wanted, but she hadn’t stopped being his bodyguard. Her weapon would remain close at hand.
The tiny buttons on her shirt were way too fiddly, and her hands shook. She managed it, releasing each button from its fabric prison to part the material. Cooler air washed over her exposed skin and she couldn’t look at him, dropping her gaze as she let the shirt slide down her arms to leave her clad in just her underwear and the high heels.
She reached for the clasp of her bra but he cut in. “Not yet. Turn around. I want to see what I’m getting.”
A shiver rolled down her spine at the possessive note in his voice and she did as she was told, turning slowly for his appraisal. Automatically she altered the set of her body. Lean and toned thanks to both her job and her species, she knew she looked good. But knowing it and wanting him to see it were two different things. One was personal pride, and the other was as arousing as fuck.
“No marriage tattoos,” he muttered, satisfaction in his voice when she turned her back to him.
It was then she realised what he’d been looking for. Saragosian women didn’t wear rings or other jewellery to signify they were wed. Instead, they had their husband’s name tattooed across the back of their hips. Small ones for year-long handfast marriages, then up in size. The biggest tattoos were reserved for the most serious and permanent form—bond marriage. She had none. The skin of her lower back was completely unmarked. She’d never found a man she was even slightly interested in tying herself to, even for a year. No, she lived fast and was beholden to no one. It was one of her rules.
Buchanan could be the exception.
She ignored the little voice in the back of her head as she turned around slowly to look at him. In reply, she nodded toward his hands. They were bare of jewellery.
“No wedding ring.”
His lips split into a grin, teeth white in the shadows at th
e corner of the room. “No wedding ring. Like I said, I’m divorced. No one else waiting in the wings. You?”
A tendril of relief rolled through her as she shook her head. The fact that no wannabe Mrs. Buchanan waited for him back on Earth made her bolder. She sauntered forward, putting a sway in her hips as she approached him. “So…you like what you see?”
His gaze travelled her body, each look stroking her skin like a physical caress. Her breathing hitched as heat hit her again. Need whispered through her, the craving to have him touch her filling her anew.
“Oh yes.” He looked up, spearing her with that hot blue gaze. “Come here. Slowly. On your knees.”
Oh fuck.
The heels, so sturdy before, seemed precarious as his words sucked the strength out of her knees. Body trembling, she did as he ordered, walking across to him and folding her legs beneath her to kneel between his spread thighs in a move that was far more graceful than she’d ever have imagined herself capable of. It was as if her body had decided that her mind and emotions were way too volatile to trust and was doing its own thing. She whispered a silent prayer to the Lady Goddess at its wisdom because she couldn’t have managed this on her own.
He stroked his cock once more and then leaned forward. A hard hand at the back of her neck pulled her forward so he could kiss her. It was hard, hot and open-mouthed. Fucking with lips and tongues. Pulling away, he muttered against her lips.
“I want your mouth around my cock.”
She did whimper at that, squirming as liquid heat flooded her pussy. How could such a crude order turn her on so much? She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Instead, she nodded, hands smoothing up his pant-clad thighs as he leaned back.
Bending forward, she wrapped delicate fingers around the thick shaft of his cock. He was hot and hard, the skin silky under her touch. Tentatively she stroked a couple of times, altering her pressure and grip to see what he liked. He made it easy for her, his expression open and honest so she could see the effect her touch had on him. When his eyes flickered wider and his nostrils flared, she knew she had it right.