by Jessica Lee
Damn, she actually whimpered.
Then his hands were at her hips. Shayla lifted then toed her sneakers off, allowing Creed to pull her jeans free from her legs. The breeze in the shade of the large oak washed over her, helping to cool her heated flesh, but not the raging fire inside.
On his knees, he hovered over her body. His gaze roaming, caressing.
Her chest heaved, fists clenched.
With two fingers, he brushed the tip of one nipple. Air rushed from her lungs and it took every ounce of sheer will not to move. Then he dropped his fingers to her chest, taking them lower in slow exploration. At her navel, he circled the shallow impression before replacing the digits with his tongue. Dear God. Her abdomen quaked under the assault, tiny quivers of sweet pleasure that had her legs spreading in invitation.
“Creed…” Shayla bit down on her bottom lip for strength. “Touch me,” she begged.
Down…down he forged a path with his lips, ratcheting her pulse higher and higher. His fingers looped in the thin strap of her panties at her sides, but instead of dragging them over her thighs, he held her steady. She watched, mesmerized at the sight, as his mouth covered the apex of her need through the thin material.
Shayla cried out and bucked against him. “God yes!”
The warmth of his tongue seared her where she needed him most.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Please…” Shayla squirmed, her hands going to his head, pressing him closer. The sound of tearing fabric filled the air right before Creed had her bottom in her palms and his mouth covering her bare pussy.
Up and down, he sampled her folds, taking his time to make sure he didn’t miss a spot, leaving her quivering. Aching for him deep inside.
“Damn, Shay.” He looked up, his eyes hooded. “You’re delicious.”
The firm presence of one of his fingers slid deep, and her core spasmed around the stiff intruder. Shay groaned. So close.
“Creed…” Her fingers curled into his scalp, seeking purchase. It was all she could do to form a coherent response. “I can’t take it. I need more.”
In and out he pumped into her, at first with one, then two broad digits. Shayla thrust her hips against him, her body no longer her own. A slave to the growing sensation. The one that would catapult her off the edge and into the swelling tide of sheer ecstasy.
The warm and slightly rough feel of his tongue circled her clit. Her diaphragm froze. That was it. Right there. Dear God, she needed him so much. Unbidden, she clasped her thighs around the girth of his head, riding him.
“Now,” she called, her fingertips digging into his scalp. “Creed… Please. Do it.”
Creed’s mouth hovered over her swollen bud, the heat of his breath teasing the nerve endings. The width of his tongue stroked once over the surface. Her pussy clenched on the hard presence of his digits buried inside. Oh God, not quite.
“More… God, Creed. Let me come.” Shayla gasped. Sweat beaded over her exposed flesh. She was burning alive.
Then his lips were there, surrounding her clit, tightening, sucking.
“Yes!” she cried out. Her spine arched and her pussy clamped down. She squeezed her eyelids shut as her world spun, spiraling like a hurricane, its eye closing in on that one spot where she and Creed were joined.
She shattered.
Someone screamed. It had to be her, but the sound was barely recognizable. Hard tremors gripped her body. Stole her air. All she could do was hang on to the man, the epicenter of her earthquake called ecstasy.
When he’d moved, she had no idea, but suddenly Creed stretched her, filling her like no man had ever done, the sweet burn lighting up the buried nerve endings of her channel.
“Shayla,” he murmured in her ear, his voice dark, hoarse, laced with desire—and it was her name that was on his tongue.
Creed’s weight shifted over her and she loved the heavy feel of his alpha domination. His cock drove into her, bumping her cervix, stroking her pussy like an incubus who’d stumbled back in time.
He cried out, pumping deep, his arms straining, trembling beside her head. Her own orgasm hit, catching her off guard and tossing her into a wild oblivion of pleasure.
A place where light, colors and fantasies collide.
In that other dimension, Shayla couldn’t deny that she’d give anything, including her soul, if she could somehow freeze that very moment and hold on to Creed forever.
But what good was a deal with the devil if her demon didn’t want his freedom from hell.
Chapter Six
An endless tide of cum pumped from Creed’s cock, blazing a path of white-hot euphoria through his shaft. His body rocked, mind sparked as he emptied his seed. He closed his eyes and groaned from the bliss that was loving Shayla.
Spent, Creed rolled onto his back. Shayla clung to him, her head going to rest on his chest, an anchor through the turbulent waves that crashed about inside his head.
Hold on.
Let go.
Refrain.
Give in.
Leave.
Stay.
Back and forth, the commands of his conscience had battered at him for days now to choose.
Stay?
What the hell was he thinking? As an enforcer, no one ever got away from the FOA. The implant behind his sternum ensured that.
If it hadn’t been for the woman in his arms, Creed would have surely gone crazy during those first couple of days of withdrawal. But because of his beautiful Shay… He stroked the soft skin of her upper arm with his fingertips. Something totally unexpected had leaped into the madness stewing inside his head.
“I do really love it here,” he said, surprised he’d actually said the words out loud.
Shayla stirred. “This has always been a special place to me.” She dragged her leg along the top of his, caressing him with her smooth calf. God, he loved it when she did that.
“That’s not what I mean.”
Pushing up on her forearms, Shayla faced him. “What did you mean?”
“I mean…” He clenched his molars, yanked his chin up and away from her curious eyes. The words perched on the tip of his tongue, his life teetering on the cliff’s edge that would change his destiny. Creed drew in a deep breath. Fuck it. He knew what he wanted. Only his stubborn pride had kept him from bringing the decision into light. He hadn’t wanted to concede and join in chorus to what Thomas and the other rebels had been shouting for years. Like them, Creed didn’t desire a life in the twenty-seventh century anymore.
“I’m saying I love it here with you, Shay, in the twenty-first century.”
As if he’d stung her, Shayla sprang up, grabbed her clothes, and ran in the direction of the path back to the cabin.
“Shayla!” Creed quickly repositioned himself back inside his zipper. He’d been so starved to be inside her earlier, he’d never removed his jeans.
He grabbed his shirt, launched from the blanket, and took off after her. From behind, he watched as she weaved her way back up the trail, doing a crazy kind of half-dress-half-walk dance.
“Shayla,” he called out again. “Wait.” Creed was gaining on her, but she kept going.
A few seconds later, he came up alongside her. They’d made it back to the steps of the cabin in half the time. “Shay. Talk to me.” She didn’t answer. Instead, she marched up to the porch and through the door. What the hell?
Creed followed and found her at the bar, hands braced on the surface. “I’ll go back for the other stuff later,” she said, her breathing harsh.
“I don’t think that’s our biggest problem here.” He closed some of the distance between them. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She still had her back to him, but judging by the sound of her breathing, she fought back emotion.
Finally, she whirled about, dark-brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “That was so cruel what you said back there.”
As if he’d been slapped by her words, his head spun, ears rang. “What? That I loved being here with y
ou? How was that cruel?”
“Because, it’s like you’re giving me the greatest gift, then ripping it out of my hands.” The dam broke and tears fell unchecked down her cheeks. She lunged forward with both hands and thumped them against his chest, shoving him back. “You’re rubbing salt into a wound. You can’t stay here!”
Creed stumbled but regained his balance. That’s when he felt it. To confirm, he placed his hand over his sternum. A slight vibration buzzed under his palm. Her push would have never activated it, only a bizarre coincidence. But there was no doubt.
They were coming.
He had to act. Fast.
“What if I can?” the words tumbled from his lips before he knew where he was going.
“What?” Shayla retreated a step and shook her head, dark locks brushing her shoulder. “Is that possible?”
“Maybe.” He rubbed the reminder behind his breastbone.
“Don’t do this, Creed. If it’s only about what you think you feel after our time together.” She spun on her heels and aimed toward her bedroom.
What the hell did that mean? Creed followed. “Of course what happened here with us has influenced me. How could it have not?”
At the edge of her bed, Shayla whirled around. “I just don’t want to be the reason you leave everything you’ve known, everything that you are behind.” She came forward and trailed her fingertips along his cheek. “I’m your first. It’s all been so intense—incredible, and I would give anything to have more time with you, to see where this could go. But what if after all the excitement fades you find you don’t feel the way you do now?” Shayla pulled her hand back, her fingers curling into a fist. “You could end up hating me.”
Creed grasped her fist and pulled her into him. Both hands went to her head, and he sank his fingers into her hair. God, he loved the silken feel of the strands against his skin.
“Shayla Murphy, let’s get one thing straight. I could never hate you.” She blinked, and another tear fell unchecked from her lashes, the sight twisting his gut. He brushed it away with his thumb. “Second, I don’t care what time we would have met in, the twenty-first century, or a thousand years from now, I know without a doubt I would feel exactly the same about you as I do today.”
“And how do you feel, Creed Donovan?” Her words were barely audible, as if she weren’t sure she wanted to ask the question.
“That you are the most amazing woman. Compassionate, strong, loving, not to mention beautiful—and sex or no sex, Shay,” he closed his eyes, searching for the elusive strength to stay the emotion in his voice, “I’d give anything for more time with you.”
Her breath hitched. “Oh God, Creed. The sacrifice you’d have to make…”
He couldn’t hold back, Creed wrapped his arms around her, needed the feel of her heart beating next to his. “It’s mine to make.” He smoothed her hair with his palm. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Pushing back against his shoulders, Shayla lifted her head. “But how will this work? You said a few days ago that trackers would be coming for you. You’re an enforcer, and I can only imagine if you came after one citizen who wanted a life without Sustain, what the hunt will be for one of their own.”
Creed lifted her chin, bringing her face to his. “You’re a smart lady.” He smiled. “And you wonder why I’d make such a choice.”
He dropped his hand and twisted away, going to the window in her room that faced the rear of the property. The woods were dense there. Dark and untouched. If only getting lost in there with Shay would be that easy to escape the team coming for him.
“Making the choice to stay is the simple part.” He glanced back over his shoulder. Shayla had perched onto the edge of the bed and rubbed her palms along the top her denim-clad thighs. “Warping through time is a constant part of an enforcer’s job. For safety we’re implanted with a locater. It ensures that we can be retrieved if we’re in trouble and not get left behind, possibly affecting the timeline.”
“Where?” Shayla stood, easing closer.
“Here.” Creed tapped his sternum. “Underneath the breastbone, so it’s protected from damage or tampering.”
“So they have a beacon they’re following at this very minute? I know you said you had to stay put.”
“Yes, I needed to remain as close to my last warp signature as possible. It makes it much easier when following the locator beacon if your target is near his last known location. Warping a mode of transportation into a century only increases the risk of contamination to that time. But they’ll do what it takes to bring me back. Once activated, no matter where I am, a team can home in on my signal.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘once activated’?”
“A team won’t be sent for retrieval until an enforcer’s locater is activated. That happens after they’ve been out of contact for more than two weeks without a return warp.”
“Oh jeez!” Shayla whipped around, headed to her closet, and flung open the door. “We’ve got to get out of here and find someone to remove that thing.” She pulled a large suitcase from the top shelf and plopped it onto the bed.
“That’s not going to be easy. We can’t go to a doctor, Shay.”
“Damn!” She glanced up. “You’re right. What in the hell would we tell them? Oh, excuse me. My friend here is from the future and needs to have a locater removed from his chest.” She crinkled her nose. “Not going to work so much.”
Creed edged over to the bed next to her. “Even if we could, you have to keep in mind, this thing,” he tapped the spot near his heart, “it’s not meant to ever come out.”
She straightened, facing him, the deep brown of her irises turning to midnight. “Are you saying…?”
“There’s a very good chance that removing it will kill me.”
“Oh my God.” Her face paled, then a second later, as if she’d flipped a switch, Shayla charged back into packing. “Come on. Help me grab my things. We need to get out of here. Put as much distance as possible away from where you arrived before that device activates. We need time to figure this out.”
“Shayla.” Creed reached down inside the brown case, making sure his tone remained calm and stilled her hands. She didn’t look up. Her gaze remained fixed on the blouse in her fists.
“When did it start?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“How much time do we have?” Shayla spun back to her closet, fear choking her, and grabbed everything from the hangers, folding them into one large bundle over her arms.
“Three days. Maybe.”
“Okay.” She released a long breath she had no idea she’d been holding. “I’m grabbing a shower, and we’re out of here.” It wasn’t up for debate.
Ten minutes later, Shayla stood back at her bed, tossing the mound she’d gathered earlier into her suitcase. How could fate be such a bitch?
Creed had washed up as well, and like a shadow, he lingered at her side, following her every move.
“They’ll need to call in a team,” Creed went on to say as if their conversation had never paused. “That’ll take a day. Then it’ll depend on the accuracy of their warps as to how quickly they zero in on my path.”
Shayla closed the case, propping an elbow on top to hold the contents while she reached for the zipper. Creed leaned over and added his weight to the bulging compartment. Shayla tugged the zipper around and sealed her belongings.
“It could take longer,” he added. “But I doubt it. I trained most of those men myself.” He straightened, facing her. “They’re damn good.”
With a hard yank on the handle, Shayla pulled the overstuffed suitcase to the floor and started for the door. “I’ll call my mom from the car and let her know I may be an extra few days.” Shayla looked back over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need to know I’m not here, and if I’m not home as scheduled, I don’t want Maddie or her scared.”
A wash of emotions rolled over his face, but he nodded and swiped up the few clothing items he
’d left in her room before following her out.
The rental agency the family all chipped in on to maintain the cabin would take of cleaning everything in a few days. Shayla’s head buzzed, trying to take in all that she’d learned in the last few minutes. She scanned the living space. Creed had already shoved what he had in his backpack and had the bag on his shoulder. Turning around, her gaze landed on the desk. Computer. That she could not leave behind. Three months of hard work was stored inside that thing.
Within minutes, Shayla had her laptop shoved into its case, her flash drives stuffed inside the zipped compartment. She skirted the desk and placed the additional items on top of her suitcase.
“Ready?” Creed stepped in and took the handle of the luggage.
“I think so.” Shayla grasped a stray lock of hair from in front of her eyes and placed it behind her ear.
“Any idea where you want to go?”
Shayla’s stomach roiled. “Not a damn clue.” She looked up at the man who had walked onto her porch and turned her world upside down. Turquoise eyes stared down at her, searching, doing his best to comfort. But not an ounce of regret reflected there.
“Are you okay?” Creed lifted another strand of hair that had escaped from the other side and gently tucked it away.
She nodded.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he said. “You have a life, a daughter, and career that already makes you happy. The last thing I want is to hurt you and to complicate your world. I don’t know what’s ahead or how long we’ll be on the run until we can figure out how to get this thing removed.”
“I know.” She cleared her throat and swallowed.
“Shay.” Suddenly his palms were on her cheeks, tilting her face up to his. “As much as I want to be here—with you—I’ll put a stop to this now. All you have to do is say the word. Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth.” He shook his head. “I’ll never hate you. Or be angry. God, Shay.” His eyes closed for a moment as if he savored a beautiful image behind his lids. “I’ll cherish every second I had with you for the rest of my life.” His lashes lifted and his gaze returned to hers. “But to do this will mean putting your life on hold. Are you sure?” His touch fell away.