Taken by Fire

by Sydney Croft

  Phoebe feigned a frown. She was so going to mess with him, fill him with doubts about Melanie. “Sister?”

  “Yeah. Sister.” He narrowed his eyes. “She said you’re some sort of Itor experiment.”

  She widened her eyes. “Oh, right. Sister. Yes, we were an experiment. While my mom was pregnant with me, Itor radiated her, and somehow our cells broke apart, and now we’re two people.”

  “She said you were two embryos created in a petri dish.”

  She waved her hand. “Right. I forget. The radiation, you know. Messes with my head. In any case, I’m not letting her out. And you can’t see Sandy or Jill either.”

  His head whipped back, and she knew he was now running through a multiple personality scenario instead of the truth. Good. He wasn’t going to believe anything Mel said from now on.

  “Wow. She really did a number on you, didn’t she? I really hope you’ve taken everything she says with a grain of salt. She’s got this sweet, innocent act down pat.” She studied her nails. “I’ll bet she said I’m mean to her. And that she knows nothing about Itor. That she doesn’t work for them.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s the fucking best agent Itor has. So if I were you, I’d do whatever she says.” She lowered her voice to a deep, sultry whisper. “She’s even deadlier than I am.”

  A door somewhere slammed, and she reached deep for her gift. It sparked … then fizzled. Dammit!

  “What’s the matter?” Stryker’s voice was taunting. “Can’t get it up?”

  “Fuck you,” she muttered, which was funny, because that was exactly what would have to happen. She eyed him and decided that it wouldn’t be a hardship. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze to his crotch and felt her body warm up.

  “Oh, hell no,” he growled.

  She raised her eyebrows. “You know what I need to recharge?”

  “You could say that.”

  Interesting. “Did you and Mel do the nasty?”

  “Just let her out.”

  “No,” she purred, as she trailed a finger down his thigh. “We do this, and I get us out of here.”

  He grabbed her hand, squeezed to the point of pain, and shoved it away. “I wouldn’t fuck you with someone else’s dick.”

  She laughed. “See, that’s funny. Because I’ve fucked several men who hated me. Best. Sex. Ever. Maybe not for them, but something about screwing a man who despises you is just … hot. I’ll have you. I promise.”

  “I’ve met some scum in my life,” Stryker said, “but you leave even the psychopaths in the dust. Now, if you want to get out of here alive, you’ll let me talk to Mel.”

  Normally, Phoebe wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t as though she was powerless—even without her gift, she could hold her own in traditional combat. But right now they were sitting ducks, and if Mel could actually be useful for the first time in her life, Phoebe would roll with it. Survival was the first order of business, after all.

  “Fine,” she said tightly. “Tell her I said hi.”

  Mel blinked, her heart sinking when she saw that she was still in a cage with Stryker and that Phoebe hadn’t gotten them out. Her heart sank even more when she realized that Stryker’s eyes seethed with hatred. All the progress she’d made with him had been undone by Phoebe.

  At least he hadn’t killed her. That was something.

  She sighed. “What did Phoebe do now?”

  “Nothing. Take off your jeans.”

  “Ah …”

  “Now.” His voice cracked like a clap of thunder, and she jumped.

  “You know, you don’t have to be a jerk. I think I’ve proven that I’m trustworthy—”

  “Really, Mel? So there’s nothing you’ve lied to me about? Nothing you’re keeping from me?”

  She swore under her breath. She hadn’t lied to him, but there was something she was keeping from him, something she definitely didn’t want him to know right now. Or ever.

  “What did Phoebe say to you? Because you can’t believe anything that comes out of her mouth.”

  “That’s what she said about you, so at this point, I don’t know what to believe. Stop talking. Start undressing.”

  “You really need to work on your seduction technique,” she bit out as she wriggled out of her jeans, hesitating before slipping off her torn panties, but at the expression of amusement on his face, she jerked them off. Stryker unbuttoned his pants, and then suddenly he was on her, had her spun around on her hands and knees, one palm on the back of her neck to push her head down, which left her ass in the air and very little leeway to move.

  “Hey—”

  “Shh.”

  She felt the prod of his cock at her entrance, and then he was pushing against her. But she was dry, and each tiny thrust only stretched and abraded. When she cried out, he cursed and pulled back.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “Guess being held by bad guys in a cage with a man who hates me isn’t much of a turn-on.”

  He cursed again, and she heard a shuffling, felt a draft of air behind her, and when she turned, she saw him sitting with his back against the metal wall, legs stretched out in front of him. His pants were still unbuttoned, but he’d tucked himself back in.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t look angry. “Come here.” He gestured with his fingers when she didn’t move. “Come on.”

  She didn’t understand, but she crawled toward him, hesitant but curious. Just before she got in range of his reach, she paused, her cheek an inch from his hand. For a long moment, they stared at each other, her unsure gaze meeting his half-lidded sensual one. She began to tremble. Slowly, he leaned forward until his palm came in contact with her cheek. His touch was light. Gentle.

  And she trembled harder.

  His fingers eased around her head and into her hair, and with an easy pressure, he nudged her closer. Was he … going to kiss her?

  Mel’s heart stuttered, and she reared back, but he caught her, and when she would have struggled, his whispered “Easy” settled her down.

  But only a little. Her heart was pounding, her stomach was flip-flopping, and her lungs felt like shriveled little fists in her chest.

  Their mouths met, barely. Stryker’s lips were softer than she’d have guessed—silky, soft lips on such a hard man was an astonishing contradiction. But as he brushed them over hers, she found herself moving involuntarily closer.

  His tongue was a warm, wet stroke along the seam of her lips, and little sparks ignited in her at the contact. She gasped, and he took instant advantage, increasing the pressure of the kiss, using his tongue to gain entrance. His hands drifted down her sides to her waist, and then he pulled her onto his lap. Her bare sex parted over the hard ridge behind his fly, and a strange, wonderful fever broke over her skin.

  This was what it was like to be turned on. To really be aroused by a man.

  A small voice told her she was stupid for feeling it, since Stryker hated her, they were imprisoned, and he was only doing this to make getting inside her easier, but her body didn’t know any of that, and it was reacting to a powerful, attractive male.

  A rough sound rumbled up in his chest as she writhed on his lap, needing to get closer to ease the ache that was starting to build between her legs. Her nipples tingled, and she was suddenly so hot, her body so tight that it was almost painful. A dizzying hunger swept over her, frightening in its intensity, and she jerked back.

  Stryker caught her, drew her to him so his lips were grazing her throat, and a new rush of sensation rocked her.

  “I’m … scared,” she whispered. All she knew was that foreign feelings were overwhelming her, eating away at her control and leaving her vulnerable.

  For a moment, he froze, as if what she’d said shocked him. And then he gave a quiet snort. “God, you’re good,” he breathed against her skin.

  She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but when he slipped his hand beneath her shirt and cupped her breast, she decided it didn’t matter.

  Truly, there were few lines Stryker wouldn
’t cross for ACRO—but forcing a woman into sex was a hard line drawn in the sand, even if Mel needed it in order to save herself.

  And him.

  In truth, he’d been so angry at seeing Phoebe, he’d been more than ready to punish her fiery ass … but not Mel, not this way.

  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being duped. And still, he continued the slow seduction. He thumbed Mel’s nipple, watched her shiver, and yes, things were different now than they’d been just minutes ago. Her cheeks were stained pink, her mouth dropped open, and small sighs escaped, enough to make his cock throb hard against her bared sex.

  A hand on her back, and he pulled her closer so he could tongue a hard nipple, tug it between his teeth gently, feel her sex get wetter and hotter with every flick.

  “Stryker …” Jesus, the way she whispered his name, was anyone that good when they were fucking? He’d been with Seducers, knew they were all trained in the art of sex and deception, but he also knew these physical signs of arousal.

  “Thought I was cold … too cold for this,” she murmured, her face buried in his hair, her body arched against him.

  He ran a finger along her cleft and she let out a series of soft little moans that made him bite back a curse. Slid his thumb against the tight bud of her clit and she jumped as if the sensation was too strong for her.

  He waited until she brought her ass back to settle on his lap, tried again, two fingers stroking her. When she moved her hips, he pushed a single finger inside of her and she stopped moving completely as he fucked her with it, and then another, opening her so their second time wouldn’t hurt her as much as the first had.

  Oz’s virgin prediction threatened to ring in his ears and he pulled himself sharply into focus. “You’re ready, Mel … so wet and hot for me. Let me in,” he told her, heard the huskiness in his voice, felt the need driving him harder now because of the use of his powers earlier.

  The push-pull of Mother Nature could be a real bitch.

  He shifted her so she could let him inside. Her sex rippled around him, a sweet, torturous vise as she took him, inch by inch, winding her arms around his neck as she did so, keeping him as close as possible.

  “Go ahead, take me,” he murmured against her neck, wondering how she could feel so hot right now and still be able to freeze a man to death when she needed to.

  Despite the fact that he knew she could kill him the second she came, his nonthinking head strained for more of her. It took everything he had not to slam his hips upward until she’d taken him in as far as she could.

  For now, he couldn’t rush it.

  Finally, the length of him was settled inside of her and for a moment, he let her sit there, feeling the fullness. And then he couldn’t hold still any longer, gripped her hips to rock her back and forth until a brutal groan ripped from his throat.

  It wasn’t enough, wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the cravings that came with his gift, not until he threw her down and took her so hard, they’d both see stars.

  This isn’t about enjoyment—this is business.

  But for his body, business most certainly equaled pleasure and there had never been any way for him to separate the two.

  It wouldn’t start now either, not when Mel told him, “Don’t stop … please don’t stop doing that.”

  She was moving on her own now, writhing, grinding, taking her pleasure, and he needed to do the same. But she was pinning him with her body and he nearly flipped her onto her back in order to take her the way he wanted to … on all fours would work too, and Christ, his balls jackknifed tight as she rode him faster and faster.

  And then she froze, legs tensed, and oh, yeah, she was coming, her sweet little pussy milking him to his own climax as she did so. Her mouth formed an O and a small, surprised moan escaped, and then his cock spurted inside her in a blinding rush that made him glad he’d been sitting down.

  He glanced over at the bars, wondering if anyone had walked by when they’d been deep in the throes of it. The corner was out of sight of most of the cameras, but it was obvious what they were doing. Clearly, whoever captured them didn’t realize this could recharge Mel, or else they wouldn’t have put them together in the cell.

  And suddenly, he was oddly protective of them seeing more of her than was necessary, was glad she was facing him so they couldn’t see the pure pleasure etched on her face.

  “Is it always … like that?” she asked.

  “Sex should always be good,” he said noncommittally, didn’t want to let her know that the orgasm had been, like, one of his top fucking five, could only have been made better if he hadn’t been surrounded by cameras. And if he liked her.

  She was staring at him. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Don’t.” He couldn’t disrespect Akbar’s memory like that, felt like he was already betraying his friend. “Just get us the hell out of here.”

  And still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of … something at the look on Mel’s face, disappointment mixed with contentment.

  She could fall in love with you, Stryker.

  And she could also win an Academy Award.

  Yeah, after this assignment he needed some downtime and lots of it. He’d tell that to Devlin as soon as he got out of this hellhole. “We need to get out of here. That’s why I did this,” he said dumbly, even though she was staring at him now like he was an idiot because he was repeating himself. And he was. Repeating himself and an idiot. Idiot wrapped in a moron. An idiot burrito.

  She couldn’t get dressed fast enough. Neither could he; he checked his pockets even though he knew they’d stripped him of every possible weapon when he’d been passed out. Well, every weapon except the kind he’d been born with, and they had to know he was a danger.

  Granted, an earthquake would bring the entire building down on them, so that wasn’t an option. Still, he touched the walls as if testing the structure.

  Mel fastened her jeans. “Most of these buildings can withstand a small quake.”

  “It wouldn’t stop at just this building,” he said regretfully.

  She was staring at him again and then she surprised him by saying, “Your gift—it’s a tough one too.”

  He wanted to tell her that she didn’t know dick about his gift, but dammit all to hell, she did. “Yeah, so? I don’t need a therapy session.”

  “I probably do,” she muttered.

  “Can you just ice these assholes—just a little—and try to save something for later?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Try,” he said fiercely. “Because you can keep making excuses and feeling sorry for yourself that for your other half you’ve got a killer bitch who deserves to rot in hell, or you can try to be responsible for the powers you do control. Own your shit, Mel.”

  “Own my shit,” she murmured with a half smile. “I might have that put on a T-shirt.”

  “I’ll buy it for you if we ever get the fuck out of this place.”

  Oh, they were going to get out of this place. Damn skippy they were.

  Mel eyed the door, and the steel-reinforced mechanism she assumed was the lock. She’d never used her power to freeze metal to the point of brittleness, wasn’t sure it would even work.

  But she had to get out of here, out of this enclosed space with a man who made her heart pound with both terror and desire, and how screwed up was that? She needed a shrink.

  And a hamburger.

  “Stand back,” she told Stryker.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, as though her command grated on a nerve, but he moved to the rear of the crate, and wisely he didn’t touch the metal.

  His cheeks were still flushed from the sex, and for some reason, that gave her a neat little thrill.

  Definitely needed the shrink. And really, a hamburger would improve her whole outlook and mood.

  Taking a deep breath, she fired up her gift. Strangely, she always got hot when she used her power, though the few people who had touched her
while she used it said her skin felt cold. That had been a long time ago, when she was a kid who had been too afraid of her father to argue about using her gift.

  “You gonna do something,” Stryker drawled, “or are we going to wait for the metal to rust out?”

  “You’re hilarious.” Cheeks hot, this time from Stryker’s smackdown, she put her hand on the sliding lock. Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry. How much power to use? She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Stryker she had little control. If she let loose, she could blast herself right out of juice and have none left to handle the bad guys. But if she tried to measure it, she could waste all her power without doing enough damage to the metal.

  Nerves whacking out, she dropped her hand.

  “Jesus,” Stryker snapped. “What now?”

  “Forgive me,” she shot back. “I’m afraid I’ll blow my wad on this one thing and have nothing left to fight the bad guys, and no offense, but I don’t feel like getting fucked in a crate again.” She spun around, marched up to him, and jammed her finger in his chest. “So unless you have some candles and wine in your pocket to at least make it a little pleasant, you’ll shut the hell up and let me freak out for a minute.”

  His crystal eyes narrowed, and shit, she’d gone too far. She never acted out like this. But something about this man got her back up, and wasn’t that the craziest thing about all of this? She was finally standing up to a man, and against the one person who would just as soon break her neck as breathe on her.

  “It was pleasant enough for you to get off,” he growled, “so don’t play the injured party here.”

  “And you are? I didn’t notice you having any difficulty getting it up.”

  He opened his mouth, but before he could respond with some cutting remark, the creak of a door opening had them both pivoting toward the sound.

  Through the bars, Mel could make out a man in beige slacks and a long-sleeved black T-shirt approaching. He stopped a few feet short of the crate, stood behind the giant wall of Plexiglas-like material.