by Angel Payne
Rayna gulped, too. She didn’t know what to do with that. Was it supposed to encourage her? Scare her? Luna talked about the right thing, but yesterday, the woman’s idea of that was the pain-slut’s version of a Judas kiss. Come here, Zeke. This neurotoxin will only hurt for a second, and then we can be together forever.
“I was wrong.” Luna spoke it to her with the conviction of knowing just where Rayna’s thoughts had gone. “About all of it. What I did for him—what I did to him—wasn’t love.”
Mua cut in with a biting laugh. “Very sweet, darling. But very late. Too late. What you did, despite your charming crisis of integrity, is going to land you in prison.”
“I know.” Luna gave him another saucy smile just as a handful of soldiers burst through the back entrance of the terminal, filling in behind her. “But unlike you, Mua, I’m going to look damn good doing it.” She flipped her ebony hair with the confidence of a rock star before hiking herself onto one of the snack bar tables and thrusting her wrists forward. “Cuff me, guys. And if you want to spank me on the way to the courthouse, I won’t mind a bit.”
It was done. Game over. Rayna only wished someone in the room would convince Mua of that. As the team advanced on them, he hurled her away. Her head snapped around as she fell to the floor. Sights flew past her vision in a blur. Mua’s features, warped with outrage. The sweat running down his neck. The tension of his fingers as he curled them in a fist. The violence in his body, heaving with every word he roared. “You stupid twit! You mindless, witless slut!”
His shrieks tore through the room. They impacted Rayna like underwater explosions. The whole room suddenly seemed submerged, a frustrating lethargy against the terror of her new realization.
Mua’s hand wasn’t curled in a fist.
It was curled around another grenade.
“Nooooo!”
She screamed it a second too late. Two soldiers tackled Mua the instant after he pulled the pin and threw the grenade, a fastball that landed the thing beneath the table where Luna was still preening for her soldiers.
She didn’t think. She lunged toward Luna and grabbed her with both hands. The two soldiers, who now saw the pineapple themselves, helped continue her momentum out the terminal’s back door.
There was a terrible, consuming boom. Searing heat. Biting pain. Noise, so much noise and chaos. She tumbled and hit the ground. The soldiers shouted. Assets down! Assets down!
Then the cold came. The chasm loomed, threatening to swallow her. She shuddered, shaking her head, mentally skittering back from the edge of that hole. “Don’t want to go,” she protested. “Don’t make me go. Don’t make me—”
“Rayna.” The voice was firm, forceful. “Can you hear me? It’s Franz. Are you with me, sweets?”
Her head pounded from her chattering lips. “Don’t make me go. Don’t make me—”
“It’s gonna be okay, Rayna. Do you hear me? Hang on, damn it!”
Sirens and horn blares. Shouts and orders. Thunder and the din of pouring rain. None of it made the black pit go away. None of it pulled the icebergs from her blood or the glaciers from her muscles.
“Ray-bird.”
A sigh caught in her throat. Escaped her in quaking spurts. She wanted to think she wasn’t dreaming. She wanted to think the envelope of his arms was real. She wanted to think he was really whispering against her forehead, kissing her eyelashes, brushing the warmth of his breath across her face.
Maybe if she kept her eyes closed and imagined they were back in that tunnel in the park again and he was chasing away Kier for her again…
No. They were back in the jungle, and he was carrying her to safety again.
No. They were in the middle of an enchanted forest, and he was saving her sanity again.
“Hayes, you have not just defied the dozen orders I issued for your ass to stay put in that hospital bed?”
“My ass was all about toeing that line, Captain. But it is regrettably attached to the rebellious rest of me.” A mouth, warm and full, dipped to her ear and whispered, “Namely my heart, which really needs to tell you that I love you, too, Rayna Chestain.”
A soft sob spilled off her lips. She opened her eyes. He was still here. He was still alive. He was still real.
He slid his lips across her cheek, brushing them across her mouth before going on, “Just to be clear, the fact that I love you doesn’t get you out of how I’m going to open you up for that damn fool stunt with the grenade.”
He was still her hero.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Eat your JELL-O.”
Zeke parked himself on Rayna’s hospital bed, grinning at the fact that he weighed down the mattress enough to roll her closer to him, and shoved a spoonful of the wobbling red food at her. He also tried to ignore the fact that her answering pout all but begged him to kiss her instead of feed her.
“Rayna.”
“No!”
“Are we going to do this again?”
“I’m sick of the damn JELL-O.”
“Eating the damn JELL-O’s going to get you out of here.”
“You only had three days of this shit. I’m going on day number seven here, Hayes.”
“I didn’t run to save Luna Lawrence from a fucking grenade, Chestain.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and tried to roll away. Zeke caught her by the waist and yanked her back. Frustration was painted across her adorable face, and understandably so. She’d been forced to do most things in this side position because of how the blast had caught her. She and Luna had cleared the terminal’s back door before the grenade blew, but that hadn’t stopped huge chunks of the wall from getting her. Everything between her nape and tailbone was pretty much a mess.
It could have been worse. Much worse. If she’d tripped or stopped…or been delayed by even another second…
He gulped hard while tightening his hold by a few careful degrees.
“Luna’s the reason you’re alive and I’m not chained up in some jungle shithole, you dork.” She poked him in the chest. He would have growled, but she lingered her touch, using a finger to trace the outline of his dog tags through his T-shirt. “She did the right thing in the end,” she went on in a more sober tone. “She went to Franz and worked with him to nail Mua.” She turned a hopeful glance up at him. “Did you talk to her guards? Is she okay?”
“She’s doing well,” he assured her. “She got buried beneath you in the blast. They’re actually releasing her to the prison infirmary today.”
Her smile made her face dance in new beauty. Z was tempted to go silent and simply stare at her, but he’d come here to say some things to her. Things that couldn’t wait any longer.
“You shouldn’t have been in that grenade blast with her, Rayna.”
“Z—”
“You should have heeded me at Garrett and Sage’s.”
“Really? And let that bastard deep fry your nervous system?”
He rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t going to happen.”
She dug a knuckle into his chest now. “The hell it wasn’t!”
He yanked aside her hospital gown to seize the skin at her hip. At the same time, he stretched his body down the bed, lying fully next to her. “You disobeyed me, Rayna.”
Her lips pursed. The skin-to-skin contact had accomplished his intent. He had her full attention. “I wasn’t yours to command.”
“As you clearly informed me.” He flexed his inside hand against her jaw, nudging her face up. Their gazes locked. He took full, glowering advantage. “I didn’t like it.”
She didn’t respond to that in words. But her eyes returned his penetrating favor, saying so much more. They were perfect and lush and green, reminding him of the oaks in that park the day he’d taken her from Kier…the palms in the forest the night he’d taken her from King…and the pines of the mountains where he’d taken her for himself.
That reflection stirred the next words to his lips. “I didn’t like it,” he repeated, “and I don�
�t want it to happen ever again.”
Her brows lowered, a pair of dark strawberry slashes over her darkened gaze. “Oh? And how do you propose that prevention, Sergeant Hayes?”
His grasp on her jaw intensified. “For starters, you’ll stop calling me Sergeant Hayes. And you’ll start calling me Sir.”
Her brows shot back up. Her jaw popped open, letting her throat release stunned gasps past her cute pink lips. She almost made him snicker with her gorgeous case of shocked shitless. Fortunately, he was preoccupied with pulling out the thin black leather collar he had coiled in his back pocket. He straightened it so the single, delicate flame-shaped drop was centered at the front as he slipped it around her throat.
“This,” he explained, “will help you remember, firebird.”
Her lips slammed shut as she gulped hard. “F-Firebird?” she stammered.
“Yeah.” It resonated with the warmth that suffused his chest as his heart sped up with anticipation. “That’s what I’m calling you from now on.” He pulled gently on the red-and-amber gem. “Master Z’s subbie needs more than a collar. You’ll bear the name I give you, too. It’s pretty fucking perfect anyhow, yeah?”
Her jaw opened and shut a bunch more times. “Zeke,” she finally blurted, “wait. Are you really—”
He cut her short with a deep growl and a tongue-tangling kiss. “Don’t you dare ask me if I’m serious,” he issued when they broke apart. He slid his hand beneath her panties, going for an open grope of her warm, firm ass. “That question, that doubt, doesn’t belong here. Not between you and me.” He lowered his head, biting at her mouth with savage possession. “Rayna Eleanor Chestain, you are mine. You have been mine for fifteen years. Fate had to kick me in the fucking teeth to show me, but I’m never ignoring that bastard again.” He loved watching her tearful giggle at that. He kissed her softly again before whispering, “I’m going to care for you and cherish you, honey. I’m going to spoil you and pleasure you. I’m going to give you everything you want, but not before you get what you need. And yeah…I’m going to dominate you in every way you’ll let me.”
She sighed and gave him the gift of her glimmering smile. “Yes, Sir.”
Zeke took her lips in a longer, deeper kiss. As he did, he trailed his hand under the cotton that draped her sex, letting his fingers drift into the heated crevice where her thighs joined. “Mmmm,” he growled. “Say it again.”
“Yes,” she offered, so utterly sexy, so completely free…his bird taking flight on the wings of her surrender. “Yes always, Sir.” She moaned as he slid in a finger, claiming the most sensitive ridge of her wet, pulsing pussy. As she threaded her fingers into his cropped hair, she exclaimed, “Oh my God…once I’m out of here, I can’t wait to get started!”
He dipped his lips to her jawline. “Who says we’re waiting until you get out?”
“Whaaat?”
“My collar is on your throat, firebird. You’ve said yes. Your submission to me restarts now.”
She stiffened a little with nervousness, though the tissues beneath his fingers turned even more moist and plump. “Y-Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he crooned. Shit, he loved saying that to her. “Now raise your leg and rest it on top of mine. That’ll open up your lovely cunt for me.” He realigned their mouths so he could give his next command in a murmur only she could hear. “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers, firebird—and you’re going to let me. You’re going to get slick and wet and hot, and then you’re going to come for me right here in this bed, in this room. Do you understand?”
It took her a full ten seconds to reply, since he didn’t relent the pressure on her clit at all. “Oh, God! Yes, Sir!”
He tried to start out slow, but once he got inside her, she gripped his fingers with such tight heat and quivering need, it was a Herculean effort not to unzip, free his cock, and push inside her that way instead. They both breathed hard as he pumped into her with two and then three fingers, hooking the tips to get at the secret spot deep inside that made her pull at his hair with wild need.
With a violent keen and a feminine grunt, she broke apart in his arms. Her body clamped on his fingers. She moaned hard against his neck. Her tears soaked his shirt.
Many minutes later, he gently withdrew and used the tissues from her nightstand to clean her up. When he’d finished that and righted her gown and blankets, she tugged him next to her again. He lowered the bed so he could stretch his arm along her pillow and cradle her head in the crook of his elbow. The entire time, the impish intent in her eyes didn’t dim.
“All right,” he charged with a chuckle, “what the hell are you thinking now?”
Rayna bit her lip and grinned. “It was more a question than a thought.”
His lips curled up. He played with the ends of her magnificent, fire-colored hair and stroked the light cream column of her neck. It struck him now why the idiot prince in the ballet had let the firebird fly free. The dumbass was afraid—though in many ways, Z got that now. When a man held magic in his hands, it was rough to feel anything except afraid.
But a brave man learned to live with the fear.
He pushed through it every step of the journey, every minute of the day, every moment the ghosts came and tried to tell him how he wasn’t brave enough, strong enough, or good enough for the magic.
And he always remembered that the bird had landed in his hands.
Trusted him with her heart. Given her magic exclusively to him.
And that made him the bravest fucking warrior on the face of the planet.
His grin split wider. He traced the outline of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Hmmm,” he issued, making it half a growl. “Ask away, magic bird.”
She giggled softly, snuggling closer. “The next time we do that, will you handcuff me first?”
A laugh filled his chest. He slid his finger off her lips so he could mold his mouth to hers, claiming her with all the passion that filled his soul and the love that consumed his spirit.
“Sure can, honey. We’ll just use the ones you’ve locked forever on my heart.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Seduced.
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Continue the Honor Bound Series with Book Three
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Excerpt from Seduced: Honor Bound Book Three
The bustle, translated into controlled chaos, always invigorated her. Today it accomplished more. It made her feel anonymous and safe in that concealment. From the second she heard Charlie approaching on the other side of the set walls, guiding their visitors in his most charming tour guide lilt, the plywood and foam core barriers might as well have turned into woven scrims for the protection they gave against her awareness of the group on the other side.
The group containing Ethan Archer.
Stay on task. Just get to the hallway and get out of here. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about how wonderful your heart feels against your ribs simply because he’s in the same building. Don’t think about how perfect it would be to see him again, to bask in the intensity of his eyes and the magic of his smile. Soldiers are bad for you, Ava—and he’s a super soldier. Special Forces. Not going to happen. Can’t happen.
“What the hell is that?”
She froze. Shit. Why did it have to be Ethan who tossed out the query, his tone so melodic yet so electric? His baritone zapped her nervous system like a spark on charged air, wrapping around her…pulling her feet the wrong damn direction. Toward the set.
What could the harm be in indulging one fast, secret peek?
“Oh, dear fuck.”
She recognized the sneer before even getting visual confirmation on its source. Sure enough, Zeke Hayes was the one who stood there rolling his eyes at Ethan. Ava smiled to see him tug her cousin, Rayna, into the crook of his shoulder. Ray giggled and
circled her arms around her man’s muscled waist. Next to them stood Z’s best friend, Garrett, and his wife, Sage. Their hands were twined on top of Sage’s prominent baby bump, and Ava wouldn’t be surprised if the pair glowed in the dark with happiness. On the other side of the couple were Tait Bommer and Kellan Rush, often referred to as the battalion’s “Bullet Ninjas” because of their sniper abilities. Tait looked like a surfing idol from the Rincon shore, while Kellan represented a dark-eyed god of the Sunset Boulevard club crowd. Grinning along with them were Rhett Lange and Rebel Stafford, respectively the brains and brawn of the team. Rhett liked to blow out computer systems; Rebel liked to blow in doors. Like everyone else, they chuckled at Zeke’s rejoinder.
Actually, everyone seemed to be having a great time…except Ethan.
The electrical storm whipped harder through Ava as she stepped closer to the window in the set and looked at him. With his brows tightened and his lips twisted, he looked supremely miffed at Zeke, though she could tell his tension hadn’t started there. It had been a part of him for a while now. It stiffened the planes of his shoulders, banded the breadth of his torso, hardened every muscle down his impossibly long legs. Throw a set of BDUs and a battle vest on him and the man would be ready to march into the thick of a battle to the death. The deadly warrior image certainly wasn’t hurt by what he had on now, either. Skintight black T-shirt, dark jeans, and biker boots were topped by a scuffed leather jacket, officially turning her quickie peek into a transfixed stare.
“What?” he barked at Zeke. One side of his beautiful mouth curled up. “It’s a legitimate question.”