Justice Ascending

by Rebecca Zanetti

  She had been just one of many.

  * * *

  Tace sighed and shut his door. “Hi, Barbara.”

  Gray yoga pants covered the soldier’s fit legs, and a blue tank top showed off high breasts and nice arm muscles. Her pretty eyes sparkled. “I am so sorry about that.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” Tace strode into the room and dropped into the chair across from the couch. His head still pounded, and cramps gripped his sides. All he wanted to do was turn around and go erase that hurt look on Sami’s face that she’d tried so hard to hide, but he had to do this first.

  Barbara reached behind her back and drew out a tiny kitten with white and black tuxedo markings. “I brought you a friend.”

  He blinked. “You brought me a cat.”

  “Yeah.” She grinned and pointed to cat food and water in the corner. “There’s a litter in warehouse number eight, so I took him for you.”

  Tace shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Um.”

  She held up a hand. “I know cat food is scarce and he’ll have to eat something else soon, but a pet would be nice, right? You’re always so alone.” She let the kitten go on the tile, and he licked her foot. Her bare feet were small and perfectly adorable, and Tace had spent a good part of an hour a while ago torturing her by tickling them. Now they were the wrong feet. “What do you say?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “I, ah, can’t keep a cat. But I appreciate the offer.” His gaze narrowed on her face. Soft eyes, turned-down lips, pink cheeks. “Ah, why did you bring me a cat?”

  “I . . . I wanted to, well . . .” She looked away.

  He caught his breath and stilled. “Are you dumping me?”

  She grimaced. “We’re not dating, remember?”

  Amusement tickled his mouth. “Barbara.”

  She turned her gaze back to him, her head still down. “I’m sorry.”

  He chuckled, feeling better than he had all day. Man, she was adorable, and a good friend. “You brought me a kitten to make up for the fact that you’re breaking up with me. Or rather, that we’re no longer going to engage in casual sex.” How sweet was that?

  She slowly nodded, her eyes glistening.

  “Shit, Barb. It’s fine. We were casual.” He leaned toward her. “Why, though?”

  She bit her lip.

  Ah. “You’ve found somebody. Something real.” Tace smiled. “That’s good. Who?”

  “Derek Diamond,” she said.

  Tace ran through names and faces. “The mechanic. The one who has fixed every machine or vehicle we have.”

  She nodded. “He’s funny, and I like that he isn’t a soldier, since I am. You know?”

  “I totally get that.” Tace smiled. “He’s a good guy, Barb. I hope you two are happy, and I admire the hell out of you.”

  The soldier lifted an eyebrow. “You do?”

  “Yeah,” he said, meaning every word. “This world is crappy, and it’s really brave of you to take a chance on something real. I’m happy for you.”

  Finally, she smiled. “I’m so relieved. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

  “You won’t, and if Derek hurts you, I’ll gut him.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  Yep. That was him. Sweet. He glanced at his closed journal, where he’d put all of his Sami sketches. “If you say so.”

  She blinked. “What about you? You’ve been distracted lately. I was thinking that maybe you’d found somebody?”

  He winced. “I’m not sure.”

  Barbara chuckled. “What about Sami?”

  He sighed. “It’s that obvious?”

  “Yeah, but I wonder, you know? You guys are shooting buddies. She can kick your ass three ways to Sunday, and a guy like you can’t deal with that. Neither can she, probably.”

  Enough truth existed in the statement that anger tried to catch hold of him. He shoved it down. “That’s not true. I’d like to think we’re both more evolved than that.” Yet were they? He hadn’t made a move until he’d forced her to tap out on the mat. Was he that much of an asshole? Probably. “I like that she can fight.” Hell, that was true. She was hotter than hell when she grappled. His groin hardened.

  “That’s good, then. I think you two make a really great couple. A power couple.” Barbara chuckled.

  Tace lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure, but I’ll keep you informed.”

  Barbara stood, grabbed the kitten and food. “Good. Still friends?” Vulnerability lowered her tone.

  “Yeah.” He followed her to the door and drew her in for a hug. “Always friends.”

  “Good.” She headed into the hall. The kitten howled. “Sorry.” She laughed and hustled toward the landing.

  He winced. That would’ve awakened pretty much everybody. He heard doors quickly opening down the hallway. Damn it. The first gaze he saw was Raze’s. The soldier had a knife in his hand. “Sorry. Angry kitten.”

  Raze snorted and shut his door. There were grumbles, but all the other doors soon closed.

  Tace noted with a sigh that Sami hadn’t opened hers at all.

  Well, guess it was time they had a discussion. Straightening his shoulders, he moved toward her room and gingerly tried the knob. The last thing he wanted was to awaken everyone again by pounding on the door.

  It opened easily. Go back, go back, go back. What was he doing? He needed to leave her the hell alone.

  He shoved open the door anyway.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I should never have tapped out.

  —Sami Steel, Journal

  Sami sat up in the bed the second her door opened, knowing exactly who was there. Oh, she’d heard the howl of a cat but hadn’t wanted to poke her head outside and see Tace, since no doubt he’d heard it, too. “Get out.”

  He slipped inside, filling the entryway. “We need to talk.” The door shut behind him, and he strode inside as if he had every right to be in her private domain. “I’m really sorry about you walking in and seeing Barbara. To be honest, we’ve been so busy, I forgot to break up with Barbara earlier. I mean, we weren’t really going out, but still.”

  Sami pulled the covers over her bare legs. She’d thrown on an old tank top and panties to sleep in. Her hand fumbled, and she ignited the lantern on her bedside table. “You broke up with her?” Not that it mattered.

  He paused. “She broke up with me, softening the blow with a kitten.”

  Sami’s eyebrows rose. “A kitten?”

  He grinned. “Yeah.”

  “Are you, I mean, sad?” She tucked the blankets around her thighs.

  “No. Barbara and I were just friends with a couple of benefits, and you know it.” He eyed her chest. “How’s the bruise?”

  “Fine. Took some aspirin I’d been hoarding.” Her mouth went dry. “We can talk tomorrow.”

  He lifted his head, looking dangerous in dark jeans and a shirt that showed off his predator’s body. “Why is your door unlocked?”

  “Lock doesn’t work.” If he wasn’t leaving, she was getting dressed. She reached for a pair of yoga pants off the floor and quickly shimmied into them, wincing as her chest ached in response.

  He crossed muscled arms, overwhelming her space with the sense of masculine power. “Why would you choose a room where the lock doesn’t work?”

  “It’s nicer than the rest of the rooms.” If he got any closer, they’d be back in the bed. Her thighs softened at the thought.

  He glanced around at the living room with fifties-style furniture and the extra-large sitting area complete with a small office. A beautiful Persian rug covered most of the floor. “Where’d you get the rug?”

  “Mansion near Malibu.” She shrugged, trying to keep the conversation casual when all she wanted was to tackle him to that pretty rug. “Thought it was classy.”

  “It is classy.” He frowned.

  She had the oddest urge to rub the frown lines away, so she tucked her hands at her hips. “What?”

  “It’s
different than I expected. Your place, I mean.”

  It was odd he’d never been inside her apartment, considering they worked together every day. “In what way?” Defensiveness rose in her.

  He eyed the row of decorative glass bottles along the worn kitchen countertop. “I don’t know. I figured there would be a wall of weapons and a sparring dummy in the center of the room.”

  “The sparring dummy is under the bed,” she shot back.

  “All right.” He moved then, closer to her, and she fought the urge to sit back down. “I think it’s time you and I had a little talk.”

  “About what?” She rubbed her chest and then made herself stop.

  Heat swelled from him. “I’m tired of you trying to prove yourself all the time. Nobody else would’ve gone out on a scouting mission after being hit with a bullet.”

  “In the vest,” she countered, not liking the direction of the discussion. “It wasn’t like I’d been shot. In fact, Jax was shot badly enough that he had to be stitched up, and he went on the scouting mission.” Why the hell was she explaining herself to him?

  “Jax had a through and through. You were hit center mass and have serious contusions.” Determination, the hard and male kind, darkened Tace’s eyes.

  Sami rolled her eyes, finally fed up with his over-the-top male attitude. “Listen, Tace. You’ve been edging toward being an ass the last few weeks, and then we made the mistake of having a quickie. This caveman routine you’ve got going on has to end.”

  “Was that all it was? Just a quickie?” A muscle ticked in his strong jaw.

  She opened her mouth to agree and pretty much lie, but the glint in his eye stopped her. Tace was becoming a master at discerning lies. Sure, the night meant something to her, but that didn’t matter right now. It couldn’t. “Let it go.”

  “I can’t.” His gaze hardened, and he stepped forward to manacle her upper arms. “I know I should, but I can’t.”

  The strength in his hold stole her breath away. She lifted up on her toes, heart galloping. “Let go.”

  “I don’t want to.” Frustration curled his lip. “Believe me, letting go would be an out I’d take in an instant. But here’s the rub, Samantha. Nothing in me, not one little atom or molecule, wants to let go. Fuck. You’re in my head all the time, in my chest, in my damn skin. I breathe you, damn it.”

  Her breath heated and caught, her entire body flaring alive. Maybe for the first time . . . sensing danger and something more. Something she couldn’t quite identify, and that intrigued her in ways she’d never admit. “What about all your other women?” It was the only thing she could think to say.

  “They were all relegated to the past from the first time I touched you.” Tace leaned in, overtaking her space. “We weren’t anything anyway, and that’s the way they all wanted it.”

  “Was that the way you wanted it?” What was happening? This was crazy. They were crazy.

  “It was the way everything had to be. Nothing serious and nothing with emotion.” His grip tightened, holding her too easily in place.

  “And now?” Her voice wavered, but she forced the words out.

  His eyes darkened, and his lids lowered to half-mast. “Enough emotion we should both be scared shitless. I don’t know what’s happening, Sami. I really don’t. But you’re at the center of me, and I’m not sure it’s healthy or right.”

  Scorpius. The bacteria that created sociopaths. Sami swallowed. “Are you turning dark?”

  He barked out a laugh, his breath heating her face. “I’ve been dark since the first day of recovery. I don’t know what this is. I can’t explain or analyze it.”

  “Okay.” Her rational mind tried to take over even as her nipples hardened to sharp points. “You’re still in the recuperation phase of Scorpius. The return of emotion now is probably normal for you with your genetic makeup. Everyone reacts differently to the bacteria.”

  “I’ve been attracted to you since the first day we met—right after I joined Vanguard and Jax decided he wanted a medic at headquarters.” Tace released one of her arms and smoothed her hair back from her face. “I walked into that first meeting, and I swear, my heart just stopped.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “That was before I was infected, Sami. Way before. I was still me then.” His head dipped toward hers. “The old me, that is.”

  “But you never said a thing.” She was quickly becoming overwhelmed by him, and her body rioted for more.

  His jaw clenched. “Of course not. Jax and Vanguard need us to be clearheaded and focused. Plus, you kept kicking my ass.”

  She lifted her head. “And now?”

  “And now you’re not.”

  “I still could.” There were moves she hadn’t taught him yet, but even as she said the words, she had doubts. Could she still take him? He was stronger and faster than before . . . and more devious. Even worse, he wanted into her head, into her thoughts, and she couldn’t allow him there. “It matters to you? Who wins in grappling?”

  “No.” He frowned and ran a hand from her bicep down to her wrist. “But having you beneath me, soft and pliant, matters. I don’t know why, but I want you there again right now.”

  The look in his eyes—the sheer determination coupled with a heat he’d never shown before—weakened her knees. She’d always been a rebel of sorts, and she’d always pushed boundaries. Instinct whispered not to push with him . . . not right now.

  Yet sometimes, true nature couldn’t be denied. “Not a chance, Justice,” she whispered.

  “Try me,” he challenged.

  The air changed, became heavy with the sense of an upcoming storm. The atmosphere swelled and heated . . . all with the sense of male. With the sense of Tace Justice.

  Without even consciously thinking about it, she hooked a leg around his knee and pushed him off balance. He kept hold of her arm as he fell back, landing solidly on the rug. She scrambled, but the man and gravity won, and she found herself sprawled across a body harder than stone.

  “Hey.” She tried to get off him, but he smoothly rolled, putting her beneath him, body to body.

  “Now, this is what I was talking about,” he murmured, his mouth right above hers.

  “Oh yeah?” As always, challenge rose in her. She clapped both hands to his ears and raised her hips to buck him off.

  He growled and grasped her wrists, pinning both hands above her head and pressing her lower half into the floor with his strong body. Even grappling, he protected her aching chest by keeping his torso off her.

  She couldn’t get leverage from this position to shove him off, but he couldn’t exactly move, either. So they lay, both suddenly panting, groin to groin. Her nipples ached in need, and her entire body flushed. But no way in hell could she be considered pliant. She’d make sure of it, damn it. “There’s not much you can do from this position, Tex.”

  “I don’t like that.” He pressed against her, his erection barely contained within his worn jeans.

  Her clit throbbed. “Like what?” Her voice emerged hoarse.

  “The nickname Tex or even Texas . . . from you.” His forehead dropped to hers in a moment of intimacy she couldn’t hide from. “You use it not as an endearment but as a way to distance yourself from me. I don’t like it.”

  “Distance between us might be a good idea.” Even as she spoke, she arched just enough to scrape her nipples against his hard chest and provide some relief for her aching breasts, even though it made her bruised skin smart. “Don’t you think?”

  “No. I want to be inside you so deeply I can never get free. Forget distance.” He leaned enough to press a kiss to her nose. Pausing for a moment, he took her measure and then moved down, brushing his lips across hers.

  She sucked in air. “For now,” she breathed against his mouth.

  He chuckled then, the sound regretful. “Now is all any of us has.”

  It was hard to argue with his logic, especially when her body pulsed beneath his. Suddenly, she was tired of fight
ing, and she was beyond tired of hiding. At some point, her past was going to catch up to her, so why not enjoy the moment?

  She leaned up and pressed her mouth against his, everything inside her softening when he took over the kiss, his mouth firm and masterful. He released her lips, kissing along her jaw and down her neck.

  “I fuckin’ love your neck,” he said, licking down her jugular. “It’s so delicate and strong all at once.”

  She arched against him, her hands struggling beneath his.

  “Oh.” He let go of her hands and reached down to gently lift her shirt over her head. “Are you sure?” he rumbled, his mouth returning to her skin.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He kissed across her breasts, taking one nipple into his heated mouth.

  She moaned and tunneled both hands into his hair. Had his mouth always been so hot? He rolled her nipple with his tongue and then moved on to the other one. Desire flashed through her, sharp and burning.

  He chuckled and kissed down her abdomen, pausing to tear off her yoga pants and panties. “If your chest starts to hurt too much, tell me.”

  She gurgled a response.

  Then his beyond-hot mouth was on her, nipping, and licking. The man was a master at playing the female body, or maybe he just knew her too well. While the thought should give her pause, her brain had stopped working. Completely.

  He nipped her thigh, made her jump, and then pressed his tongue against her clit.

  White-hot shards of electricity rippled through her nerves, and she whimpered, her thighs tight against his broad shoulders. He slid one finger inside her and explored, finding her G-spot with unerring accuracy.

  Sparks flew from her nipples to her clit. “Tace,” she whispered.

  He moved to her other thigh and sucked hard.

  She yelped and smacked his head. “Don’t even think of it.”

  “Too late.” His voice was rough and hoarse . . . like he’d swallowed rocks. “You’re wearing my mark for at least a week.”