22
The next hour felt five times longer because of the silence and loneliness and confusion weighing down on Caroline. Reaper had basically dumped her in the hut, grabbed his gun and a few other supplies, and ran into the jungle, leaving her alone and worried.
She usually didn’t do so well alone; she was a naturally sociable person and had preferred the company of others most of her life. And it felt like Reaper had severed the deep emotional connection they’d made with a rusty blade. Why was it so imperative that they get back so quickly? She was safe; he was safe—wasn’t that the whole point? Unless there was something else he was hiding from her … Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what that would be. Sure, her father had to be worried, not knowing whether or not the mission had been a success, but she’d already been missing for months. What was a few more days?
Reaper had healed and so had she—the terrible migraines and rush of sensory overload after that shot of adrenaline had long since faded. Honestly, the worst thing she could come up with was someone from the lab tracking them, but they’d been in this hut for over two days already. If someone from the lab was tracking them, they wouldn’t have waited so long to make a move.
So, what then? What else could there possibly be?
It was dark by the time Reaper returned to the hut. Pacing the small confines in darkness, she’d managed to tie her robe together over her stomach, leaving the deep V of her chest between her breasts completely exposed but covering the necessities.
Reaper, on the other hand, had remained shirtless. He basically prowled back into the hut half naked, just as mouthwateringly sexy as before.
No, Caroline, you can’t think about his impossibly chiseled chest, or how good he felt inside you.
She had to find out exactly what was going on.
Reaper set his pack against the wall and completely ignored her.
Twenty minutes passed and she couldn’t take his silence any longer. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t bother to look over her shoulder when he answered, “Exactly what I told you. I had to secure the perimeter so we don’t get taken by surprise tonight. I also mapped out the easiest path to our extraction point.”
Caroline bit back the urge to stomp her foot in frustration and forced her voice to remain calm. “Duh, you already told me that. What I need to know is why you were so frantic when I told you how much time had passed.”
If she hadn’t been studying him so intently, she would’ve missed the almost imperceptible stiffening of his shoulders. “Nothing I ever do is frantic. I was simply shocked that I’d been unconscious for so long.”
“Most men would have been unconscious for much longer after that kind of injury.”
He straightened up and spun around so swiftly she stumbled backward a step.
“I am not most men, Princess, in case you haven’t noticed. And I had a timeline set. We missed our extraction.”
Not true. But all she needed to know.
“Is that why you’re so pissy? Because all your careful planning got messed up?” Relief made her shoulders sag. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d been concerned he was upset over something she had done. Now she realized it was simply because he was a hard-headed, stubborn man incapable and unwilling of bending.
“Did you really just call me pissy?” he asked incredulously.
She planted her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Yes, that’s exactly what I said.” She’d gotten so use to his cold, calm, reassuring behavior that seeing this level of emotion from him had frayed her own nerves. And while she should’ve cherished that peek into his chink of armor, she had to admit it had thrown her for a loop. It was a little daunting. Maybe an emotional Reaper wasn’t what she really needed. Maybe she needed to stop trying to delve deeper and accept him for the man that God had created him to be. Her warrior.
Reaper took a step forward, and then another and another, forcing her to back into the wall or be steamrolled. “No man alive has ever dared to call me that.”
If she were smart, she probably would’ve kept her mouth shut, but she just couldn’t resist poking the bear. “I’m not a man, and I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be.” He lowered his head to meet her eyes, his entire demeanor intimidating, almost threatening. His shoulders caged her in; his hardness pressed into her belly.
All thoughts of teasing banished and her thighs quivered in response. Her sex immediately went slick. “Reaper,” she whispered out his name.
Before she could say another word, his mouth slammed over hers and her entire being focused on the feel of his tongue rubbing aggressively over hers. Dear God, he tasted sweet. Everything about him was raw and wild, like the jungle surrounding them.
He was rough and unpolished, but that was part of what made him special. She’d been around too many polished, fake gentlemen in her lifetime. Everything about Reaper was real. And he called out to her soul on a level she hadn’t even realized existed before now.
*
He couldn’t stop himself. He needed her more than he needed food, more than he needed the serum to survive. She drove him crazy and yet tormented him with her soft, yielding responses. If she’d resisted at all, he would’ve stopped that very instant and walked away, instead, just like before, she urged him on, pulling him closer, meeting every thrust of his tongue with one of her own.
Dear Lord, help him, but he had to have her again. He yanked the knot free on her robe, easily parted it down the middle, and shoved it from her body, then lifted her, pinning her to the wall. When his fingers found her moist and ready, he nearly came right on the spot. Barely able to function, Reaper aligned himself at her entrance and thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt. She arched and cried out, clawing his back in a way that he was beginning to love. She was so unbidden in her responses, so open and honest in her need. He no longer worried that she wanted him just out of gratitude. Her response to him was exactly as intense as his was to hers, and he could come to only one conclusion. She truly needed him; they needed each other.
More roughly than he wanted, Reaper pulled out and then slammed home, tapping her cervix and stretching her until she clenched around his cock in a near stranglehold. He couldn’t tame his response to her. He couldn’t control anything when it came to her. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”
“I don’t want you to,” Caroline threw her head back against the wall and closed her eyes as he continued to pound into her, over and over, slamming her against the wall, helpless to slow his pace.
He felt that familiar tingle at the base of his spine and his balls tightened up, but he wouldn’t come without her. Reaper was able to pull on his resolve enough to reach between their bodies and thumb her clit. It took him three strokes before she orgasmed, her already impossibly tight sheath spasming. He released with a roar, unable to hold back any more than he could stop himself from breathing.
Exhausted, he let his weight rest against her, his forehead pressed to the wall as he fought to regain enough energy to get them both onto the cot in the corner.
A couple of minutes later, he pulled on his reserves enough to carry her to the cot. He collapsed on top of it and fell asleep with Caroline splayed over his chest.
23
Reaper woke to sunlight streaming through the open window directly into his eyes. He shot up instantly, his heart racing. He’d overslept. He leaned over Caroline’s sleeping form and looked out the window, judging by the position of the sun it was at least three hours past sunrise. Fuck. How could he have been so lax?
As he pushed up to sitting, his gaze turned to Caroline and the truth hit him like a bludgeon. It was her. She’d made him weak and so relaxed he’d let precious hours slip by when his team needed him. He didn’t deserve to call himself their leader.
Better take stock of his remaining supplies before she woke and ensnared him with those rapturous blue eyes of hers. He opened an energy bar and consumed it as
he checked his field medical kit and weapons and tucked everything into the Velcro pockets of his black cargo pants.
There was one thing missing, and he felt worse than a fool for not having noticed before now. The serum. The flat black pouch wasn’t with the rest of his things. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. Where the hell was it? He ransacked the hut, his shoulders sagging with relief when he spied it under the cot. Caroline must’ve sensed his need to preserve that pouch and hidden it. With trembling fingers, he pulled it out and slowly unzipped the package to check its contents. The sight that greeted him left him quaking.
Two vials were missing. Not one. He was short an entire dose. Which meant one of the men on his team would have to go without.
Reaper might as well have pressed a gun to the man’s head and pulled the trigger. His death would certainly be more pleasant that way.
Without the serum, a soldier would fall into violent seizures, pain would rack his entire body, and if what Dr. Winters had said was true, he would deconstruct on a molecular level. It was a fate so horrifying Reaper couldn’t even fathom the thought. “Caroline, what did you do with the other vial?”
Obviously groggy and still half asleep, she rubbed her eyes and propped herself up on an elbow before answering, “You needed it. You were clammy and unresponsive, so I gave you another dose when you were out.”
His quivering turned into full-on shakes so bad he almost dropped the entire pouch on the floor. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why in the fuck would you give me another dose? You’d already given me one.”
She finally shook off the lingering peace of sleep and sat up fully, but this time her naked breasts weren’t enough to make him forget the enormity of their situation.
“I thought it was some kind of steroid or super drugs you gave your soldiers if they were injured in the field. Did I give you too much? Will it hurt you?”
No wonder he’d healed so quickly from his wound. She’d given him an extra dose, taking it from someone else so that he could heal just a little bit more quickly. The thought turned his stomach. He’d already hurt them enough—and now here was one more blow he was dealing them.
How could he have ever thought he and Caroline could be together, that they could have some … happily ever after? He didn’t have the right to his own life, let alone happiness. It had been beyond naïve for him to let himself believe it. Letting her into his heart had been a mistake. Hadn’t Jack Mankel taught him that lesson again and again? Trust was a trap unless it was between a soldier and his team—and even then, his men had been wrong to follow him into Project Mayhem.
There were some people on this earth who would never have love or happiness. Reaper had known that for years, but this little slip of a girl had made him forget for a while. She’d revealed the last speck of weakness buried deep in his soul, the slender slip of hope that maybe he deserved love.
Reaper didn’t deserve anything but to die a slow, torturous death.
Caroline climbed to her feet, her questioning gaze making him second-guess his anger even now.
Weak. Oh, how weak she made him.
“Reaper, please tell me I didn’t hurt you. I-I love you. If I screwed up by doing that, it was only because I thought I was saving your life.”
He recoiled in horror. “Love? You think you did this out of love?” He held open the package before her in accusation.
“What did I do?! I don’t understand. Why are you so upset? Surely they can give you more.” Her voice wavered with desperation, but he forced himself to block it out. Just like he forced himself to ignore the knife slicing through his open heart. It didn’t matter that she’d had no way of knowing how important that serum was to his men. He’d known.
He realized right then and there that all it would take would be a few pleading words to render him to putty in her hands. He had to put some distance between them right now before he completely lost sight of his mission. And he had to do it now.
“Put your clothes on. Cover up now. We have to go. There’s no time.” He turned his back to her, zipped up the black pouch and secured it in his pants. It would take them at least three hours to reach his extraction point. If he was lucky enough to find the small stealth helicopter he’d stashed in the woods still in place, he’d be able to get them out of the jungle and to the nearest airfield, where he could secure a flight back to the States. Even then, he was pushing the time limit. The guys would already be in bad shape.
Her entire body was shaking, but she managed to pull the robe on without his help. She knotted it over her belly once more, her exposed flesh making him want her in spite of everything, something that just pissed him off even more. His weakness wouldn’t be the death of them—it would be the death of his men.
“Please, please talk to me.” She grabbed his arm and pressed herself against his side, and despite his vow to keep his distance, he couldn’t help but be aware of every inch of her skin touching his.
There was no way he was strong enough to take her out of here with this shadow hanging over his head. He had to get away from her. He had to clear his mind, and above all, he had to deliver the serum to his men before they died.
Almost in a trance, he walked her back to the bed, looking at her but not really seeing her. All he could see were his teams’ faces, the accusatory stares they would give him when he confessed the truth. His hand found its way into his pocket and to the small roll of 550 cord.
“Reaper, what are you doing?”
She had no idea what she’d done.
A touch of sympathy tried to edge into his mind, but he squashed it like a fly. It couldn’t matter that she didn’t know – the effect was the same.
Death to his men.
He grabbed her wrists and she didn’t fight him as he quickly tied a knot, binding them together, and then he yanked them roughly over her head and bound her to the cot. He could make it home, administer the serum to his team, and then return within two days. She could survive that long. No one knew where they were as far as he could tell, no one was even aware of the hut in the middle of the jungle.
“Please! Don’t do this! If you just get me to a sat phone, I can call my dad. He’ll have a plane waiting for us and we can go back together. I don’t understand.”
Her desperate voice finally broke the haze clouding his mind. Of course, she’d call her daddy for help; he’d probably been there to bail her out her entire life. It was time he told her the truth. “Your daddy won’t be helping anyone, Princess. He’s dead. He’s been dead for over three months.”
The horror that slashed across her face ripped what remaining soul he had left into shreds, but something violent and dark drove him onward. The need to lash out overrode his common sense. “And I didn’t rescue you because he sent me on some mission. I took you for the same reason that Jack Mankel and General Rainier did. Your blood is the key to my teams’ survival. You are the source of our serum.”
Reaper pulled out the package of serum and waved it in her face, forcing himself to ignore the broken feeling inside him. “This is the only reason I need you. I need your blood to make more serum for my team. It’s the only thing keeping us alive.”
“My father is dead?”
“Yes, he was killed by the same man who took you—Jack Mankel. I was there. I saw it happen.” And he hadn’t felt one ounce of pity for the senator. “Your father was the one who started the very same project you were kidnapped to keep going. The same project responsible for what happened to me and my men. Project Mayhem. He just got cold feet and backed out, taking you with him.”
The vile words wouldn’t quit coming. It was like he’d ripped a cork out of the bottle and there was no stopping the flow of pain.
“I don’t believe you,” Caroline said.
“Your father and Jack Mankel are the ones who did this to both of us, Caroline. And I’m not sorry that they are dead.”
“Li
ar!” Caroline screamed and tried to break her bonds.
“And now because you wasted an entire vial of the only remaining serum on this planet, one of my men is going to die.”
Reaper headed for the door to the sound of Caroline ripping furiously against her bonds. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find that uncaring hollowness he’d been living with his entire life. It was gone, and a great sucking black hole had replaced it. Sweat broke out across his brow as he strained against the almost overwhelming instinct to turn back and take her into his arms. But that was exactly how he’d ended up in this situation in the first place—his weakness for her.
“You can’t leave me here. You can’t ignore what we shared. We connected; you care about me.”
Reaper grabbed the doorframe for support, keeping his back to her as he answered in a deadened voice. “I have to.”
The words tasted like garbage laced with acid, and they burned up his throat and incinerated his heart.
Caroline’s sobs filled his senses and the weight of the entire world seemed to weigh down on his shoulders. His words and actions were completely unfair.
But he should’ve known better.
He should have known not to get so close.
The only way for him to get some sanity and logic was to get some distance from her.
24
Caroline curled into a ball of agony and sobbed. She wanted to believe he had lied about her father—she wanted it more than anything she ever wanted in her entire life—but his voice had rang with conviction.
Her father was dead. The only remaining family she had was gone, taken from her without her even knowing. She hadn’t been there to hold her father’s hand as his life slipped away. He’d died not knowing whether she was alive or dead—and Reaper had been there!
What if Reaper was lying, and he had been the one to kill her father?
That thought alone caused her muscles to clench so tightly that she couldn’t draw in any oxygen. Panic set in when she couldn’t force them to unwind. She couldn’t breathe. Her father was dead, and Reaper had betrayed her.
Mayhem's Warrior: Operation Mayhem Page 19