Ice Reaux

by Alexandra Ivy

  Reaux was out of his seat in seconds. “No. We’re done.”

  Raphael gave his cousin a look. “We need it by tonight.”

  “You’ll have it,” he assured him as the group got up and filed out of his office.

  When he and Karen were finally alone, he rounded on her. “Hey. You okay?”

  She looked pensive, pale, as she sat down in one of the leather chairs. “I wonder if you could help me.”

  His brow drifted up. “Of course. Anything.”

  “I need a Healer.” Her eyes lifted to meet his. “And you’re the best there is.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The look on Reaux’s face cut her deep. Confused, eager, strained. She knew she’d hurt him. From the moment he’d walked out of her house two days ago, she’d known. Just as she’d known that what he’d done for her, finding out the truth about Tate, had been done because he cared about her.

  Maybe even loved her.

  Heart squeezing with hope, she gazed up at him. He was standing, his back to his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked gorgeous and pensive.

  “I’m so sorry,” she began. “You were right. I’m skittish, afraid of being in pain again. Afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of trusting. Afraid of grieving.” She inhaled sharply, her eyes begging him to see what was in her heart. “But I will, and I am.”

  For several long seconds, Reaux stared at her, his eyes darkening with emotion. Then he shook his head. “I should’ve told you. Right away. Soon as I found out.”

  “Hey, I get why you didn’t.” She gave him a soft smile. “We were having a night. First one like that for the both of us in a long time. It was beautiful and perfect and fun. You wanted to be happy. You wanted to see me happy.”

  He pushed away from the desk, came over to her, knelt down in front of her. “I’m so sorry about Tate.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. Those damn tears. But at least they were coming now. Healing her as Reaux had said. Helping her see the truth. See the love and happiness and future she could have if she embraced it. “Thank you,” she said, reaching for his hand. “For looking. For getting answers for me.” She threaded her fingers with his. “They may not have been the ones I wanted. But at least I know.”

  Reaux’s eyes blazed into hers with heat and intensity. “I love you, woman. You and the cub. I want you as my family.”

  She couldn’t speak. Tears only.

  “Please don’t kick me out of your life again,” he uttered. “My puma’s fiercely tender heart can’t take it.”

  Never, she mused. You’re mine.

  And I’m yours.

  It was time to show him.

  She released his hand. Silently, she stood up and went to the door. With a quick flick of the wrist, she locked it, then turned back to face him. Slowly, sensuously, she started to take off her clothes. She hadn’t planned this, but it was right. So right.

  Reaux had come to his feet and was watching her with hooded eyes. With every piece of clothing she removed and tossed over the chair, those eyes darkened. “Here?” he asked, his tone husky and thick with need.

  “Can you think of a better place?” she asked, grinning as she slipped out of her bra and panties and stood before him naked.

  The snarl that answered her was terrifying. And sexy. And so Reaux she shivered.

  He came at her like a predator—the predator he was—scooping her up in his arms and taking her mouth under his. He kissed her hard and hungry, and like he hadn’t seen her in a year. And Karen melted into him, giving herself over to his intensity. He tasted like heaven, sweet and mysterious, and when his fingers pressed into her skin and his tongue invaded her mouth, a gasp broke from her throat.

  “That’s right, Karen,” he snarled against her lips. “You’re mine. Say it. Tell me.”

  “All yours, Reaux,” she uttered, her skin on fire, her sex clenching and wet.

  He kissed her again, a punishing kiss that had her crying out softly, had her gripping his shoulders. She wanted his clothes off too. Needed to feel his skin, against her hands, under her nails. On top of her as he thrust deeply inside of her.

  “Goddess, I’ve thought about this,” he uttered, biting at her lower lip, then suckling it deep. “You, naked in my arms. The scent of your pussy in my nostrils.”

  His words, so graphic and honest, sent her body into a panic. Heat coursed through her, and she tried to yank at his clothes. Off. Off. Off.

  Get inside. Get inside where it’s warm. Where you belong.

  Feeling her urgency, he chuckled darkly, hungrily, then set her down on the rug. Above her, the skylight blasted her with warm sunlight. Around her, the green freshness of the bayou lulled her. In front of her, standing at her feet, naked… Cut and chiseled and so long and hard, her mouth watered. God! Goddess! Whoever had created this creature…Reaux. Her body shook with need and anticipation. Mine, she mused possessively, her eyes taking in every inch of him. All mine. Forever.

  And then he was down, crouched like the cat he was, starting at her ankles, kissing his way. Karen gasped with each warm, wet press of his lips. The inside of her knees, up her thighs, then pausing for a moment to lap at her wet pussy. Instantly, she spread her legs. Giving him better access. A soft growl exited his throat as he licked her. Slow, drugging licks that sent fire roaring through her.

  “Please,” she begged, knowing that with just a few more laps to her sex, she was going come. “Please, Reaux. I want you inside of me.”

  He growled his response, but did as she asked, moving upward. Her belly, her ribs, her right nipple. Karen was losing her mind. She wrapped her legs around him, hooking her ankles against his hard backside and squeezing herself against his long, hard cock. Reaux groaned, cursed, then ground himself against her slick pussy.

  It was as if she’d waited a lifetime for this, for him. He was the one. Her only one. Her love. Her life. Her family. And she was desperate to know what it felt like to have him inside her. So deep she was claimed.

  With a growl of her own she reached between their bodies, fisted his rock-hard cock and placed the head of it at her entrance.

  On a wicked, black snarl, Reaux’s head came up. Gray eyes flashed fire and need.

  “Please,” she begged. “Can’t go slow. Not the first time.”

  He cupped her face then, gave her a dark, hungry smile, and as he slowly entered her, he lowered his head and kissed her. Slow, drugging, sensual. A groan vibrated in Karen’s throat with each incredible inch. And when she was full, when he was so deep she felt unable to think or breathe—just feel—he started to move.

  All around them was the bayou. Green and cool and full of life. And her male was making love to her. For the first time. She reached for him, gripped his tight ass and held on. Indy had been right. A Pantera male was something else entirely. A shocking and intense lover, a harsh predator, a valued friend, and a fierce ally.

  And family.

  “I love you, Reaux,” she called out as he thrust into her, hard and deep and everlasting. And when he sent her over the edge, crying and begging for more, the sunshine cocooning them in its warmth, Karen knew she was well and truly claimed.

  In heart.

  In body.

  In mind.

  And in spirit.

  EXCERPT

  KILL WITHOUT MERCY (ARES SECURITY)

  BY ALEXANDRA IVY

  PROLOGUE

  Few people truly understood the meaning of ‘hell on earth.’

  The five soldiers who had been held in the Taliban prison in southern Afghanistan, however, possessed an agonizingly intimate knowledge of the phrase.

  There was nothing like five weeks of brutal torture to teach a man that there are worse things than death.

  It should have broken them. Even the most hardened soldiers could shatter beneath the acute psychological and physical punishment. Instead the torment only honed their ruthless determination to escape their captors.

  In the dark nights they pooled their individ
ual resources.

  Rafe Vargas, a covert ops specialist. Max Grayson, trained in forensics. Hauk Laurensen, a sniper who was an expert with weapons. Teagan Moore, a computer wizard. And Lucas St. Clair, the smooth-talking hostage negotiator.

  Together they forged a bond that went beyond friendship. They were a family bound by the grim determination to survive.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Friday nights in Houston meant crowded bars, loud music and ice-cold beer. It was a tradition that Rafe and his friends had quickly adapted to suit their own tastes when they moved to Texas five months ago.

  After all, none of them were into the dance scene. They were too old for half-naked coeds and casual hookups. And none of them wanted to have to scream over pounding music to have a decent conversation.

  Instead, they’d found The Saloon, a small, cozy bar with lots of polished wood, a jazz band that played softly in the background, and a handful of locals who knew better than to bother the other customers. Oh, and the finest tequila in the city.

  They even had their own table that was reserved for them every Friday night.

  Tucked in a back corner, it was shrouded in shadows and well away from the long bar that ran the length of one wall. A perfect spot to observe without being observed.

  And best of all, situated so no one could sneak up from behind.

  It might have been almost two years since they’d returned from the war, but none of them had forgotten. Lowering your guard, even for a second, could mean death.

  Lesson. Fucking. Learned.

  Tonight, however, it was only Rafe and Hauk at the table, both of them sipping tequila and eating peanuts from a small bucket.

  Lucas was still in Washington D.C., working his contacts to help drum up business for their new security business, ARES. Max had remained at their new offices, putting the final touches on his precious forensics lab, and Teagan was on his way to the bar after installing a computer system that would give Homeland Security a hemorrhage if they knew what he was doing.

  Leaning back in his chair, Rafe intended to spend the night relaxing after a long week of hassling with the red tape and bullshit regulations that went into opening a new business, when he made the mistake of checking his messages.

  “Shit.”

  He tossed his cellphone on the polished surface of the wooden table, a tangled ball of emotions lodged in the pit of his stomach.

  Across the table Hauk sipped his tequila and studied Rafe with a lift of his brows.

  At a glance, the two men couldn’t be more different.

  Rafe had dark hair that had grown long enough to touch the collar of his white button-down shirt along with dark eyes that were lushly framed by long, black lashes. His skin remained tanned dark bronze despite the fact it was late September, and his body was honed with muscles that came from working on the small ranch he’d just purchased, not the gym.

  Hauk, on the other hand, had inherited his Scandinavian father’s pale blond hair that he kept cut short, and brilliant blue eyes that held a cunning intelligence. He had a narrow face with sculpted features that were usually set in a stern expression.

  And it wasn’t just their outward appearance that made them so different.

  Rafe was hot tempered, passionate and willing to trust his gut instincts.

  Hauk was aloof, calculating, and mind-numbingly anal. Not that Hauk would admit he was OCD. He preferred to call himself detail-oriented.

  Which was exactly why he was a successful sniper. Rafe, on the other hand, had been trained in combat rescue. He was capable of making quick decisions, and ready to change strategies on the fly.

  “Trouble?” Hauk demanded.

  Rafe grimaced. “The real estate agent left a message saying she has a buyer for my grandfather’s house.”

  Hauk looked predictably confused. Rafe had been bitching about the need to get rid of his grandfather’s house since the old man’s death a year ago.

  “Shouldn’t that be good news?”

  “It would be if I didn’t have to travel to Newton to clean it out,” Rafe said.

  “Aren’t there people you can hire to pack up the shit and send it to you?”

  “Not in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

  Hauk’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. “I’ve been in the middle of fucking nowhere, amigo, and it ain’t Kansas,” he said, the shadows from the past darkening his eyes.

  “Newton’s in Iowa, but I get your point,” Rafe conceded. He did his best to keep the memories in the past where they belonged. Most of the time he was successful. Other times the demons refused to be leashed. “Okay, it’s not the hell hole we crawled out of, but the town might as well be living in another century. I’ll have to go deal with my grandfather’s belongings myself.”

  Hauk reached to pour himself another shot of tequila from the bottle that had been waiting for them in the center of the table.

  Like Rafe, he was dressed in an Oxford shirt, although his was blue instead of white, and he was wearing black dress pants instead of jeans.

  “I know you think it’s a pain, but it’s probably for the best.”

  Rafe glared at his friend. The last thing he wanted was to drive a thousand miles to pack up the belongings of a cantankerous old man who’d never forgiven Rafe’s father for walking away from Iowa. “Already trying to get rid of me?”

  “Hell no. Of the five of us, you’re the...”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Rafe muttered as Hauk hesitated.

  “The glue,” he at last said.

  Rafe gave a bark of laughter. He’d been called a lot of things over the years. Most of them unrepeatable. But glue was a new one. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Hauk settled back in his seat. “Lucas is the smooth-talker, Max is the heart, Teagan is the brains and I’m the organizer.” The older man shrugged. “You’re the one who holds us all together. ARES would never have happened without you.”

  Rafe couldn’t argue. After returning to the States, the five of them had been transferred to separate hospitals to treat their numerous injuries. It would have been easy to drift apart. The natural instinct was to avoid anything that could remind them of the horror they’d endured.

  But Rafe had quickly discovered that returning to civilian life wasn’t a simple matter of buying a home and getting a 9-to-5 job.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of being trapped in a small cubicle eight hours a day, or returning to an empty condo that would never be a home.

  It felt way too much like the prison he’d barely escaped.

  Besides, he found himself actually missing the bastards.

  Who else could understand his frustrations? His inability to relate to the tedious, everyday problems of civilians? His lingering nightmares?

  So giving into his impulse, he’d phoned Lucas, knowing he’d need the man’s deep pockets to finance his crazy scheme. Astonishingly, Lucas hadn’t even hesitated before saying ‘yes.’ It’d been the same for Hauk and Max and Teagan.

  All of them had been searching for something that would not only use their considerable skills, but would make them feel as if they hadn’t been put out to pasture like bulls that were past their prime.

  And that was how ARES had been born.

  Now he frowned at the mere idea of abandoning his friends when they were on the cusp of realizing their dream.

  “Then why are you encouraging me to leave town when we’re just getting ready to open for business?”

  “Because he was your family.”

  “Bull. Shit.” Rafe growled. “The jackass turned his back on my father when he joined the army. “He never did a damned thing for us.”

  “And that’s why you need to go,” Hauk insisted. “You need—”

  “You say the word closure and I’ll put my fist down your throat,” Rafe interrupted, grabbing his glass and tossing back the shot of tequila.

  Hauk ignored the threat with his usual arrogance. “Call it what you want, but until you forgive
the old man for hurting your father it’s going to stay a burr in your ass.”

  Rafe shrugged. “It matches my other burrs.”

  Without warning, Hauk leaned forward, his expression somber. “Rafe, it’s going to take a couple of weeks before we’re up and running. Finish your business and come back when you’re ready.”

  Rafe narrowed his gaze. There was no surprise that Hauk was pressing him to deal with his past. Deep in his heart, Rafe knew his friend was right.

  But he could hear the edge in Hauk’s voice that made him suspect this was more than just a desire to see Rafe dealing with his resentment toward his grandfather. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Hell, I have a thousand things I don’t tell you,” Hauk mocked, lifting his glass with a mocking smile. “I am a vast, boundless reservoir of knowledge.”

  A classic deflection. Rafe laid his palms on the table, leaning forward. “You’re also full of shit.” His voice was hard with warning. “Now spill.”

  “Pushy bastard.” Hauk’s smile disappeared. “Fine. There was another note left on my desk.”

  Rafe hissed in frustration.

  The first note had appeared just days after they’d first arrived in Houston.

  It’d been left in Hauk’s car with a vague warning that he was being watched.

  They’d dismissed it as a prank. Then a month later a second note had been taped to the front door of the office building they’d just rented.

  This one had said the clock was ticking.

  Once again Hauk had tried to pretend it was nothing, but Teagan had instantly installed a state of the art alarm system, while Lucas had used his charm to make personal friends among the local authorities and encouraged them to keep a close eye on the building.

  “What the fuck?” Rafe clenched his teeth as a chill inched down his spine. He had a really, really bad feeling about the notes. “Did you check the security footage?”