Marked

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Marked Page 2

by Kit Rocha


  "Does he, now?"

  Again, a question hovered just under the words. "Observation, not firsthand experience."

  "Mm-hmm." When they reached the landing, he slung an arm around her shoulders. "Once you're done chatting with him, we'll spin him by tonight's afterparty. Give him a taste of what we can offer. If he likes dirty ladies, I'll own his ass."

  Emma elbowed him in the ribs, then freed herself from his embrace and took a deep breath before slipping into the conference room.

  Noah looked the same. A little rough, like he'd had a bad couple of days, but still Noah, who was always sweet and warm, just for her. The same red hair and ginger beard, the same broad shoulders that could block out the world if she needed them to.

  Christ, she'd missed him.

  She was halfway across the conference room before she caught herself and stopped. "Noah."

  He stared at her, his gaze flickering across her face, as if cataloging all the things about her that had changed. "Emmy."

  Her lips trembled into a smile, and she pressed her fingers to them. "I thought I'd never see you again."

  "I didn't know you were still here, in the sectors. I thought--" He cleared his throat and lifted his right arm. He'd done it a hundred times before, inviting her to duck under it for a hug while he ruffled her hair and teased her. But before she could move, his arm fell to his side again, and he looked away. "She told me you'd left. If I'd known the truth, I would have come to get you. I would have taken you somewhere safe."

  "I did leave. I came here." Fuck it. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck in a firm hug. "You look so damn good."

  He stiffened against her, then slid one arm around her waist in an awkward embrace. "You look...grown up."

  She bit her lip to hold in a laugh. "Four years'll do that."

  "I guess it will." He skated a hand lightly up her back until he reached her arm and tugged it away from his neck to examine her O'Kane ink. The coolness in his gaze melted into regret. "This is the life I was trying to keep you out of."

  God only knew what he thought of Sector Four--and the O'Kanes. "No, this is--it's nothing like Sector Five here. Dallas isn't Mac Fleming."

  "He moves booze instead of drugs," Noah agreed, rubbing his thumb over the O'Kane logo. "I guess it's a step up. But I wanted to get you out. To the mountains, like Cib used to dream about."

  She jerked her hand away. "I wasn't talking business. People here look out for each other."

  Noah studied her face in tense silence before lowering his voice. "I've read Eden's files on Dallas O'Kane and his inner circle. Some of these bastards could give Mac Fleming nightmares. If you're scared--"

  "Oh, Jesus." Emma stood there, torn between laughing and crying. "I'm not a hostage, Noah. This is my family."

  No comprehension in his eyes. He didn't believe her--or couldn't--though he didn't say so. Instead, he took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You're happy?"

  She couldn't answer, because he wouldn't believe that, either. "Let me show you. Stay for a little while?"

  "Okay."

  "Okay?"

  He shrugged and looked away. "I'll stay. For the night, at least. O'Kane's woman invited me to some party."

  Every time she'd allowed herself to imagine reuniting with Noah, the fantasy had been different. Sweet or sexy, happy or even a bit sad. Bittersweet. But nothing had prepared her for this awkwardness, the chasm between them that seemed to widen with every passing moment.

  She had no idea what to say to him.

  They stared at each other forever, tense and miserable. Then he bit off a curse and turned away. "I didn't know," he snarled, the words so low and furious she barely understood them. "I didn't know I'd have to do this again."

  "Noah." Her clumsiness melted, and she reached for him, smoothing her hands over the knotted muscles of his shoulders.

  He shuddered under her touch. "You have no idea, Emmy. No goddamn clue how bad I was when you knew me, and how much worse I am now."

  "Come on," she whispered. "That isn't true."

  Laughter sliced out of him, harsh and broken. "Don't get any romantic ideas about me. I've always been a criminal."

  It made her sound like a foolish little girl, and she'd always prided herself on being pragmatic. Just because she was an artist didn't mean she was a dreamer, floating along with her head in the clouds.

  Emma stepped back. "Why did you come here?"

  "To make sure you were okay. And because O'Kane can help me."

  "Help you with what?"

  He turned to stare out the window, giving her a glimpse of his hard profile and clenched jaw. "Take down Mac Fleming. Even if I have to go down with him."

  Emma shivered. "If you set Fleming on fire, Dallas wouldn't piss on him to put it out. But it's not worth--" She touched Noah's arm. "Look at me, damn it."

  When he did, it hurt worse. He looked tired, used up, like there was nothing good left inside him. Only revenge.

  It made her words ring hollow, even to her own ears. "It's not worth dying over."

  Noah raised his hand to stroke one of the blonde streaks of hair back from her face. His fingers followed it down to her bare shoulder, where he traced the outline of one tattoo. "I'm fucking this up. If I'd known I'd be seeing you again, I would have held on a little harder."

  The detached regret scared her most of all, as if he was already gone in every way that mattered. Her heart pounding, she mirrored his movement, testing the solid strength of his neck and shoulder beneath his shirt.

  He'd saved her once. It wouldn't be right to let him drift away like this, not if she could help it.

  Emma leaned in, brushing her lips to the corner of his mouth.

  Groaning, he plunged his fingers into her hair, tangling them up tight enough to hold her there, on the verge of a kiss. "Why?"

  Nothing less than the truth. "Because you're here, and you're alive. And I missed you."

  He closed his eyes. His mouth moved against hers--words, not a caress, though they felt the same. "I'm not good enough for you. I never was."

  Once upon a time, he'd been one of the few stable things in her whole world. She'd loved him with all her young, naive heart, and with him this close, so close that his breath was hers too, that emotion fluttered anew in her belly.

  Emma wrapped her hands around his upper arms. "Do you want to be good enough for me?"

  His fist tightened, edging her head back. His parted lips brushed her chin, her jaw. "That's a question I've never let myself ask."

  She'd experienced mind-bending pleasure, fallen into the spaces between naked, eager partners with zeal and joy. But none of it had ever made her tremble to her core, not like Noah's lips skating a path down her throat. "Then you must have known the answer would be yes."

  "And damn me for it," he groaned, lifting his head to meet her gaze. "I'll hurt you. I won't want or mean to, but I'll do it. Mark my words, Emma."

  "Shh." It would be worth it to show him--what belonging felt like, what home was, everything she hadn't been able to say as a shy nineteen-year-old with a desperate crush. "I know what this is, Noah. What it isn't. Just kiss me."

  His mouth hovered over hers, so close his sigh ghosted across her lips like a promise. He relaxed his hand, fingers cupping the back of her head, and started to close the distance--

  The door crashed open. "Keep it in your pants, Cibulski. We're all locked up downstairs, and that boy has an O'Kane party to get to."

  She refused to jump away from Noah like a kid caught making out. "We're just catching up, Dallas."

  "Uh-huh. Save it for the orgy." He grinned and vanished, leaving the door hanging open.

  Both of Noah's eyebrows swept up. "Orgy, huh?"

  "That's Dallas's version of the hard sell." She kissed Noah on the cheek. "His recruitment speech."

  His expression finally cracked into a smile. "I bet it's effective."

  The smile kindled the first glimmer of hope, and Emma slid her hand int
o his. "You can let me know in a few hours."

  Chapter Two

  O'Kane had called it an orgy.

  He hadn't been exaggerating.

  Only iron will kept Noah from shifting to relieve the uncomfortably tight fit of his jeans as he watched a couple fuck their way into the midst of a threesome that broke apart and reformed around them without losing momentum. No one seemed to care who the hands and mouths and tongues belonged to, as long as they kept touching in all the right places--and judging by the frequent squeals of pleasure, everyone knew which places were right.

  It wasn't the first time he'd seen unchecked carnal indulgence play out before him, but it was the first time it had been accompanied by so much female enthusiasm. And so much laughter.

  O'Kane's right-hand man sat beside Noah, squinting at him. "You gonna make it?"

  "I think I'll pull through somehow," he replied blandly.

  The man only nodded. Jasper McCray was a bastard with a dangerous reputation, and his looks fit it. He was decked out in leather, denim, and tattoos, complete with shaggy hair, a full beard, and a stern frown.

  In Sector Five, the woman seated between his legs would have been another accessory. She was dressed like one, in ruffled lingerie and expensive jewelry. She rested her cheek on Jasper's leg, and her eyelids drooped with sleepy pleasure when he teased his fingers through her hair. Absent-minded affection--something that just didn't happen in Five.

  The girl--Noelle, he thought her name was--smiled suddenly, and Noah followed her gaze back to the open floor beyond the dais and nearly swallowed his tongue.

  Emma had taken to dancing in one brightly lit spot. She was wearing the same shirt, a black scrap of nothing with tiny sleeves that left her shoulders bare, but she'd shed her jeans. Her panties had two ties on each side, one high on her hip and one low.

  The ribbons hung down her thighs, silk brushing silk, as she tipped her head back and spun in a slow circle. Her tattoos cut bright, colorful paths across her skin, wrapping around her thighs and arms, climbing up her sides, the beautiful designs fitting the contours of her body to perfection.

  She was a work of art, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

  Noelle sighed from her spot on the floor. "She's so beautiful."

  Emma dropped to her knees and slipped her hands into her hair, gathering it high at her crown. She rolled her head forward this time, a slow tilt from one shoulder to the other, and when her gaze lifted, her eyes clashed with Noah's.

  Then one hand crept out of her hair, down the side of her neck, and over her collarbone to toy with the top edge of her shirt.

  Everything he'd told her in that damn conference room was still true. He didn't deserve her. He never had. And now he'd forgotten how to be human, how to deal with people instead of data, how to give a shit about anything except his revenge.

  The need to protect her had exploded into his numb heart, the memory of a feeling that had once dominated his life so completely that even the echo hurt. Another echo was stirring, one he'd never wanted to acknowledge as real, one laced with guilt and loathing and shattered trust--

  I see the way you look at her.

  No, he'd never deserved her. But he'd wanted her--and now that feeling was smashing its way into the frozen wasteland inside him, so much more intense than a mere memory. Even at his lowest he'd never wanted this badly, his cock rock hard and his mind already imagining how her mouth would feel around it.

  Innocence had never gotten him going. Not like this.

  The black fabric dipped down, barely clinging to the hard peaks of Emma's nipples, then slid free to nestle beneath her breasts. His breath caught in his chest as he let his gaze linger on her curves, on the tight little buds he could almost taste.

  Then she reached lower.

  "Fuck me." The husky curse came from Lex, the brunette curled up in Dallas O'Kane's lap. "Are we gonna get a show tonight?"

  Jesus Christ, Noah had forgotten the rest of them were even there. And he still couldn't look away, not with Emma's fingers headed toward the bit of fabric masquerading as underwear.

  "Maybe I should help her," Noelle murmured, uncurling from her spot between Jasper's knees.

  Noah had two seconds to imagine what that might mean--two filthy seconds his brain all too readily filled with an image of Emma astride Noelle's face, writhing her hips as Noelle licked and moaned--before Jasper twisted a hand in the girl's hair and tugged her back against the couch.

  "Not this time," he told her, and he said it like his woman's tongue in Emma's pussy wasn't just possible, but a common fucking occurrence.

  Dallas laughed and stroked a hand up Lex's thigh. "Look at the big eyes on him, love. One of you better warn Lennox about tangling with O'Kane women, or our little Emma's gonna eat him alive."

  "No." Lex leaned closer, close enough for Noah to feel her breath on his skin as she stared into his eyes. "No, I think this one knows exactly what he wants."

  Anyone with sense in their head could probably tell he wanted Emma, but there was something unsettling about Lex's gaze. It slid deeper, beneath his armor, beneath his skin. He'd read the file on her, too. It claimed she'd grown up in one of Sector Two's elite brothels, trained to read a man with a look and control him with a touch.

  Both seemed chillingly possible, so he deflected. "Does any man ever know what he wants?"

  "Know? Yes." She sat back and threaded her fingers through Dallas's hair. "Whether he admits it is a whole different question, honey."

  Emma's voice twisting into a moan dragged his gaze back. She held her hand still and rocked her hips, gliding into her own touch.

  Sweet fuck.

  He pressed his fists to his thighs and watched her, trying to memorize the rhythm of her body, the sound of her voice. He wasn't the only one watching, but her eyes were on him, and when her mouth moved again, her lips silently formed his name.

  He was going to spend the next twenty years dreaming about this.

  Then she stopped, a sudden, wicked smile curving her lips. She rose, stripped off her tangled shirt, and toyed with one beribboned tie at her hip as she walked toward the dais.

  She stepped up onto it--and stopped right in front of him. The faint music playing in the room melted into something lower, heavier, and Emma eased onto his lap, her knees on either side of his legs.

  He caught her hips, pinning them in place just above his. If she lowered them, they'd be fucking on this couch, probably while Dallas and Jas and their girlfriends stared on in fascination. "Emma."

  "Noah." She cupped his face, her fingers stroking his cheeks, his jaw, his mouth.

  Her tits were almost in his face. One tug and he could be licking them, sucking her nipples between his lips and finding out just how many noises she could make. He could barely remember why he wasn't already doing it.

  "Yes," she whispered, circling her hips. When he loosened his grip a little, she did it again, dipping and swaying above him before dropping low enough to grind against his dick through his pants.

  He jerked his gaze from her chest, but there was nowhere safe to look. Dallas had his hand under Lex's skirt while he murmured something against her ear, and Noelle was tugging at Jasper's zipper and giving him big, entreating eyes. "Please let me, please."

  "Will you be good?" Jasper rumbled.

  "Yes. You were right." Noelle nuzzled his knee with a husky laugh. "I don't think Emma needs any help tonight."

  "Mmm." He released her hand and her head with a nod. "Behave, and maybe you can help her, after all."

  Emma barely seemed to hear--or she just didn't care. She was staring at his mouth, her body trembling so close, so damn close--

  Letting go had never been so literal. He eased his grip, and she settled against him, her hips straddling his aching cock, her bare breasts crushed against his shirt, her mouth finding his as if kissing her had always been inevitable.

  Maybe it had been.

  Her lips were sweet, soft, at odds with her nails digging i
n to his arm, sharp and rough. That was Emma now, he realized--as sweet as always, but with a filthy edge, one that had her riding him like he was already inside her.

  He could be inside her.

  The thought had barely formed when Dallas snorted. "So much for that. Get a room, Cibulski."

  She tossed her head back and pinned her leader with a challenging look. "You're the one who told me to bring him."

  "My miscalculation." Dallas swatted Emma's hip. "Don't get me wrong, girl. I'm sure it'd entertain the hell out of us to watch you two fuck, but Lex'll pout if you don't even notice she's here. You just remember what I said."

  "Trust me, Dallas." She slid off Noah's lap and tugged him to his feet. "You're the last thing I'm thinking about right now."

  O'Kane laughed. "Fuck you too, love."

  Emma dragged Noah behind her. She hopped off the stage and plowed toward the door without bothering to haul her clothes back into place, as if it couldn't possibly matter. And since most of the people in the room were varying degrees of naked, maybe it didn't.

  She pulled him through the door, into the dark hallway. "If they didn't give you a room yet, we can go to mine."

  Guilt tried to wiggle through his body's throbbing need. He'd never said he was staying beyond the night, and she hadn't asked. She still wasn't asking, just making assumptions that he should correct. But if he did...

  He could taste her mouth on his tongue. He wanted to taste other parts of her. He wanted to fall into her and not worry about tomorrow.

  He wanted her to keep talking like she wanted him to stay, instead of assuring him it didn't matter either way.

  Emmaline Cibulski had needed his protection. This confident, dangerous O'Kane woman could take care of herself--and the ink around her wrists would keep her safer than Noah ever could. That was what he told himself, anyway, as he slid a hand around her waist and pressed his lips to her ear. "Take me to your bed."

  Ushering Noah into the darkness of her room fulfilled a fantasy Emma thought had died. She'd been sheltered for the longest time, unable to fantasize about anything but the vaguest of details--soft kisses, gentle words, his hand sliding down her body. And none of those things fit with an O'Kane woman, tough and self-assured. They were the desires of an innocent.

 

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