Embrace the Romance

by S. E. Smith

  Round butt cheeks as hard as they appeared twitched as if he sensed her stare. No denying he had a great body. Nibbling her bottom lip, she stepped away. If she didn’t force herself to move, she’d never leave. Her gaze searched for where they’d thrown her clothes.

  Across the room, curled in a ball, but head up Bogan snuffled and his tail gave one wag. He must have snuck up after they’d fallen asleep. Vigorous bouts of sex tended to tire anyone out. She glanced back at Hunter’s sleeping form.

  Emotions held her locked in place. She inhaled sharply, mad at herself for her inability to compartmentalize this. Unfortunately, the breath she took only filled her lungs with the smell of the man himself. Dark, masculine and the hint of some woodsy scent. She took another whiff against her better judgment and reevaluated. If danger had a smell that lingered in the air as well.

  Walk away her inner voice warned. Before her heart engaged further. Narelle gathered her clothes and dressed, her gaze constantly going to Hunter as if drawn by a magnetic force. Curses fell silently off her tongue as she ripped her eyes away from the impressive sight of his body there for the taking if she wanted a second round.

  A mirthless grin curled her lips. More like the fifth round. She stuffed her feet into her boots, feeling the twinges in her sensitive parts attesting to a night well spent with a man who knew his way around a woman’s body. She’d have some light bruising and tender parts tomorrow.

  And just like that her mind delved back into flashes of having sex with Hunter. The way he’d pressed into her welcoming body, the powerful thrust of his hips as he’d leaned over her, his breath warm on her face. Then he’d lined up his face next to hers and whispered every dirty thought he’d ever had about her in her ear.

  Putting into words the things he’d thought about stirred Narelle in ways she hadn’t imagined. His seductive voice lent another layer to the passion igniting between them and she’d had one explosive climax after another.

  Hunter woke when an elbow jabbed his rib followed by a knee which grazed his dick. He bit off a curse and managed not to move as Narelle shifted. He held his breath awaiting what she’d do next. Only a brief pause and the sheets fell about his hips to his upper thighs. Hunter’s erection sprung to life in anticipation of a robust repeat session of earlier.

  The covers slipped more baring him completely. He grinned. Maybe Narelle planned to wake him in an unexpected way. He listened. Able to discern the rustle of clothing, he stiffened. Wait! Would she really try to sneak out without saying anything to him?

  Hunter stayed still until he definitely heard the sounds of her now shod feet. Light scuffles as she made her way to the stairs leading to the lower level were the last straw. He rolled to the side and opened his eyes, interrupting her stealthy escape. “Narelle.”

  Hands on the railing, she spun with a gasp. “I thought you were asleep.”

  Obviously. “I woke as you tried to slip out.”

  She dropped her hand, planted both on her hips and notched up her determined chin. He wished he didn’t find the pose enchanting. “I was leaving. My end of the bargain was met.”

  Insulted, Hunter sat up, tossing the sheets to the side and out of his way. This had been far from a casual fuck. “Without saying goodbye?”

  What happened between them was more than a bargain. Naked, Hunter met her glare for glare. He smirked when her gaze dipped to his straining erection. Hunger flashed across her features. Now that he’d had a taste, he wanted more as well.

  Narelle’s gaze shifted lower as she took in the uneven map of twisted red lines from his right knee to lower calf. It took everything not to hide them. The scars came as a result of emergency repair surgery on his adjustments. They worked well enough, but if he strained the biotronics past their endurance the circuitry misfired thus part of the reason for his discharge from the service. His last mission may have helped end the war against the Vargos but the price had been high.

  When Narelle finally lifted her defiant gaze, Hunter realized she wouldn’t change her mind about leaving. She stomped down their stairs in clear dismissal.

  At her refusal to give in, his jaw tightened and frustration flickered. Hunter chased after her. “What are you playing at, Narelle?”

  “I’m not playing,” she returned without stopping.

  Control slipped and Hunter fisted his hands as they both drew to a halt in his living area. “You know this isn’t over between us.”

  She spun on her heels glaring. “On the contrary, Hunter. This was never meant to be more than an interlude.”

  She wanted to play it this way? Pretend the heat which exploded between them every time they crossed paths didn’t exist? “What do you think is going to happen next, Narelle? That you’ll walk out the door and I just forget about you?”

  For a minute the bravado weakened. The tough girl façade faded. Then she shored up her defenses. “Hunter, let this go. I’m not the one for you.”

  Hunter restrained the urge to punch a hole in the wall. She was exactly the one for him. Trouble was, Hunter didn’t know how to convince her of the fact. He bit back a snarl of fury as she crossed toward the door and hesitated hand on the knob. Something like regret flashed over her features. “I hope everything works out with the war mongrel.”

  Narelle slipped through the opening of the door and closed it behind her before Hunter could respond. Defeat lashed at his senses and the bitter taste of loss filled his mouth. He muttered all the way back to his bedroom, kicking at his clothes on the floor and ignoring the lingering scent of their lovemaking from the tumbled sheets.

  Bogan trotted over and nosed at Hunter’s leg. With a sigh, Hunter gave up for now and decided there was no need in chasing her. She’d be back in his bar again. He had to believe that and the next time, he planned to be prepared. Narelle was his and now that he’d had a taste, he wasn’t letting her go.

  In the meantime, Hunter took a quick shower unable to focus with the scent of her on every inch of his skin. Afterwards, he settled at the cramped desk shoved in the corner. The click clack of Bogan’s nails followed. He booted up the old computer with its top of the line interior workings. To any who sought to rob him, the would be criminals would overlook this out of date tech, never knowing what he had housed on it.

  Hunter keyed in his password and paused briefly as he thought about what he was about to do. One more step, one more door to his past opened. This could only bring back bad memories. Bogan groaned and nudged against Hunter in order to rest his muzzle on his thigh. Hunter scratched the animal behind the ear.

  “All in or nothing.” With that announcement, he keyed in a site he had avoided over the last few years having no need to maintain contact with the information or the people. But niggling concern played at the back of his mind and Hunter refused to let the puzzle sit unanswered. He glanced at the tan and black war mongrel. “I need to find out how you ended up here and how to get you back.”

  Mysteries never sat well with him.

  Seven

  Narelle hated the desire urging her to return to Hunter as she strode down the silent street. His determined glance as she’d basically run away affected her more than she wanted to admit. But Narelle couldn’t lower her guard and let him in. She knew her weaknesses. Without much effort he’d have her love whether he wanted it or not.

  If she wasn’t careful there was more than physical pain at stake. It was her heart. A heart in need of avoiding the experience if Hunter didn’t feel the same way.

  Truth to be told, Hunter was a distraction she didn’t need. As she hurried from the entrance of The Zone her thighs twinged. Zaps of discomfort reminding Narelle of the passion which had flared during the night with Hunter. She’d imagined sex with him on numerous occasions, but reality far exceeded anything she’d dreamed.

  At least she’d gotten him to agree to take on the dog. Or what had he called it? Her brows creased in deep thought. War mongrel. That’s right. One of the many things which tied to his secretive militar
y past. Though not so secretive since he’d shared quite a bit with her today.

  Narelle walked a good way beyond The Zone, debating if she wanted to take her shuttle and leave immediately or return to the temp housing unit. Might be better to leave in the morning when she wasn’t half sex drunk from the orgasms Hunter gave her. Her body clenched in remembrance and she missed a step.

  To her left a voice called out, “Did you just leave The Zone?”

  Stiffening, Narelle’s pace slowed as a solitary figure separated himself from the shadows. “Who cares?”

  The dark-haired man dressed in common leathers from head to toe tipped his head to the side and smiled. “Asking for a friend.”

  While the smile increased his face from attractive to downright handsome, the blank look in his eyes said something all too different. There was death in the icy blue stare setting off all sorts of warnings.

  Narelle fingered the knife strapped to her thigh and moved forward. “Can’t help you.”

  Much to her dismay, he skip-jogged to catch up with her. “Well at least tell me if you know Hunter Gils. I’m hoping to catch up with him. We knew each other in the past.”

  Narelle shot him a look from the side of her eyes he couldn’t mistake and withdrew her knife. Still striding down the street at a pace which required him to keep up or get lost, she said, “Can’t help you with that either.”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, the next sound he made was a low, dark growl. Before Narelle could react, he grabbed her by the elbow, yanked her to a stop and spun her around to face him fully. She flowed with the abrupt motion, sliding the grip of the knife in her palm and slashing out at his mid-section.

  He called her an unsavory name as his hand fell away and Narelle chuckled as she crouched and they circled one another. “Not the first time someone’s said that about me.”

  Not responding to her jibe, he launched a flurry of kicks and punches in her direction. Narelle blocked each and backed up, victory singing in her blood as she cut his forearm and blood spattered to the ground. Another curse. Much more intense than the last.

  “You’re exactly the type Hunter would go for.” It almost sounded like approval in his voice. “He has an eye for strong women. Females with a little fight in them.”

  Narelle didn’t like hearing herself compared to Hunter’s type. She ducked, avoiding a fist to the face, but he struck again and the hit landed on her side, sending the breath out of her on a groan.

  Crap, he had fists of steel. She couldn’t take too many direct blows like that one or he’d have her laid out in no time.

  Stepping away with her weapon up and ready, Narelle couldn’t resist a taunt of her own. “You could always go to The Zone and look for Hunter yourself.”

  In ordinary circumstances, she would never give someone up like this but Narelle had every bit of faith in Hunter handling himself just fine against this man. He had former soldier written all over him. The way he held himself, the fighting stance and the way his gaze never left hers told its own story. But his presence contained none of the deadly energy found circling the man she’d just left.

  “No need. You’re exactly the break I’ve been waiting for. He hasn’t let another close to him in years. Not one friend or lover.”

  Before Narelle could ponder that statement, he stopped playing with her. Lightning fast moves Narelle couldn’t hope to counter came at her. The crack of a fist to the jaw sent blood spurting from her abused tongue, another strike to her soft belly left a fiery trail of pain, followed by a sweeping kick, which landed her on the ground.

  The knife flew from her grip as Narelle crashed into the ground and cried out. Her head rocked twice, pain exploded and stars raced across her vision. Body tensing, she prepared to meet her death bravely. The only measure of relief came from knowing Hunter would be pissed and this stranger, whoever he was, had no idea what he’d started.

  She might fight the attraction between her and the owner of The Zone but Narelle wasn’t foolish enough to believe Hunter wouldn’t take her death personally. For some reason, he wanted her beyond one night of passion.

  Despite the pain, her lips curled in a grin at the thought. Her attacker crouched beside her, his leather pants rippling. He braced a palm on the ground and leaned close to hover above her face. “You find something funny?”

  She choked out a laugh. “Only that I wish I could be there when you get fucked up by Hunter.”

  He snarled and gripped her hair, pulling her head back and putting a strain on her neck as he next spoke. “We’ll see about that. It’s long past time for Hunter Gils to pay his dues.”

  Not understanding amidst the pain and confusion, Narelle blinked. Nausea swirled and she spat another wad of blood out. “Maybe you should talk to him yourself. Hunter and I aren’t exactly friends.”

  Truth. They’d had sex. No plans for more.

  A grim smile crossed his handsome face. He dragged a finger down her cheek, across her jaw and stopped at the pounding pulse in her throat. The move threatened in its simplicity. Justified fear surged as he pressed down with his whole palm surrounding her lifeline. The throbbing beat jumped in response, causing him to release a ruthless chuckle.

  Every bit of her body ached, but Narelle considered a vicious head-butt to escape. Blue shards dared her to make the move. She remained still, knowing he was one wrong word away from snapping her neck no matter his issue with Hunter.

  As if he had all the time in the world, her attacker loosened his grip, and continued his forefinger’s prior journey. The blunt digit tapped further down before landing on her collarbone. Narelle couldn’t control her shiver. He traced an odd pattern on the tender skin, then yanked hard enough on her hair with his other hand to pull the roots. Narelle screamed against her will.

  “Hunter always did like marking his women,” he whispered. “Possessive and stupid at the same time. For future reference, if you want to deny belonging to a man, make sure he doesn’t leave his love bruises all over your throat.”

  Barking in the distance dispelled the eerie quiet of the night. He stood suddenly, the flap of his leather coat swishing. Bogan. Without a doubt in her mind, Narelle knew it had to be the war mongrel. She rolled to her side, gasping but determined. Sharp pain pierced her side.

  Groaning, she pressed against the injury and pushed up to her knees. The world spun in a sickening circle and she crashed back to her stomach.

  Damn it, Narelle knew she should have left the sexy bartender alone. Anger renewed at Hunter pushing the matter between them but her eyes closed against her will. She hoped to the dark beyond she didn’t pass out. If she did, Hunter would probably freak when he found her.

  Thinking of him brought a small measure of calm. Her pulse slowed its erratic pace and Narelle could no longer hold off the inevitable as she fell forward and surrendered to the encroaching darkness.

  Hunter finished the file he’d downloaded and was no closer to figuring out how the government lost such a valuable commodity like the war mongrel. They were notorious for keeping track of every person or machine they spent money on. Only problem was, if Hunter probed further, he was bound to draw attention he didn’t want or need.

  As he shut down the system, Bogan sat up with a whine, gaze locked on Hunter’s face. Pushing away from his make shift desk, Hunter turned completely toward the corner where the war mongrel shook with nervous energy. Ignoring his naked state, Hunter attempted to soothe the animal. “Gemfach, Bogan. Komm.”

  Instead of coming toward him as he’d commanded, Bogan alerted, tail straight out and body angled at the window. Hunter stood and crossed the space to place a hand on the war mongrel’s head. He and the others soldiers had learned the small physical contact would sometimes comfort the animals when they appeared on edge.

  Bogan didn’t relax.

  Hunter crouched beside him, hoping to connect, but Bogan avoided his gaze. Deliberately. Frustration mixed with empathy bubbled up for the animal who no longer had a handler. He did
n’t need this.

  Thanks to Narelle, Hunter was left in a position he detested. Still the war mongrel wasn’t completely to blame for his behavior. Their training prohibited ignoring a nearby threat of any sort, which meant something was wrong. The idea alone brought out Hunter’s own protective nature. “What is it?”

  He didn’t expect an answer but the animal’s entire body quivered with the need to move. Brows drawn close, it took a moment for Hunter’s senses to attune using their newly formed sync. Whatever it was had the war mongrel really disturbed.

  Trying to puzzle it out wouldn’t get Hunter anywhere and the more he stood waiting, the more agitated Bogan grew, letting out another low whine.

  All at once the obvious answer came to Hunter. Only one thing, one person could have caused the war mongrel’s strong reaction.

  Narelle.

  Despite the trijl he now shared with Bogan, the animal for some reason had also endeared himself to Narelle. If Bogan’s body language was anything to go by then she was in danger.

  “Gehe! Suche.” Go! Search! The command snapped out, Hunter’s own urgency lending it a resounding bite.

  Bogan launched from his spot and headed for the bedroom window. His lean body streamed through the space easily, back paws clipping the frame as he cleared the opening. Hunter leaned out to catch a glimpse of him going down the rickety outdoor stairs and off into the night, his muscled brown body low to the ground in stealth mode.

  “Shit!” Hunter delayed for a bare moment. Then he backed away from the window to drag on his pants. Foregoing a shirt, he grabbed his hand-held laser and two knives which he tucked into his boots after slamming them on his feet. A back-up pistol stashed in the waist of his pants and he was ready.

  Hunching his large body over, Hunter climbed through the window following the path Bogan had taken. As he barreled down the now deserted streets, more curses slipped past Hunter’s lips. He worked harder than ever to reopen the sync with Bogan as he passed by familiar buildings.