This was what he got for his disobedience yesterday. But, fuck. Making the celibate dude pretend to be in love? Yeah, that wasn’t the slightest bit messed up.
“Are you ready, Natalie?” The Matchmaker inclined her head.
What did she conclude about this whole shitty situation? He leaned back to study Nat’s expression, but he couldn’t discern any emotion in her features.
“I am. Thank you, Matchmaker.”
He breathed in and out through his nose, his jaw tight. Why the hell did she seem okay with this?
“Prove it to me. Kiss him.” The Matchmaker’s lips pressed thin.
Wait, what the fuck? He whipped his gaze from Nat to the Matchmaker, who drummed her nails against her forearm as though impatient. “No bloody way. I’m celibate.”
The Matchmaker tilted her head. “You won’t be breaking your vows if the kiss isn’t real. And it won’t be, right?”
He opened his mouth to contest her reasoning, but what could he say? Either way, he’d be screwed. His last chance lay in Nat’s refusal. He turned to her, hopeful she’d come up with a surefire argument against them kissing.
“It’s just a kiss, okay?”
Hell, she agreed with the Matchmaker? Clearly, he’d stumbled into the twilight zone, because he bloody nodded. Without hesitating, Nat gripped his shoulder with one hand, the back of his neck with her other, and slanted her mouth across his.
His body hardened as his cock thickened and strained against his jeans. And his heart, it fucking rammed into his throat.
She tasted even better than she looked. Her soft lips parted to allow him access, and damn, but he accepted. He slid his tongue inside, but kept his hands fisted at his sides. He didn’t dare embrace her, yet he couldn’t resist the kiss.
A taste. Just one. He closed his eyes and drowned in her coconut fragrance. The sweet, sensual sparks between them electrified his body. Three long years, he hadn’t touched a woman, so he must be responding to his long-denied libido.
Not to Nat. Definitely not to Nat.
A bored sigh hummed at his right. “Convince me.”
He jerked open his eyes. The Matchmaker stared at them, her head tilted as though evaluating their kiss. Like this was a bloody audition. Hell, maybe it was, but he refused to put on a show.
As he was about to pull back, Nat moaned into his mouth and ground her hips against his.
Apparently, she was determined to get the part.
The Matchmaker demanded more. Dammit, Nat craved more too, but not at this price.
Still, her entire future rested on how well she kissed Kassian, so she threw her whole body into it. The recesses of her brain scrambled to scan the Lotus handbook for the right maneuver—a sweeping crane or a backward lute?
Trying and failing to ignore the thick ridge pressed into her belly, she tangled her tongue with Kassian’s. Once this kiss ended, she’d have a talk with him about his acting skills, and his “celibacy.”
Immune to baser urges, my ass.
Like she was any better? Grinding against Kassian’s hard body had not only made her panties wet, she inched toward an orgasm. Well, that would convince the Matchmaker, wouldn’t it?
Even for a guy three years out of practice, he was a hell of a kisser. His firm, sensual lips and talented tongue teased hers in ways that made her forget this was a test.
That kissing Kassian shouldn’t be this enjoyable.
Her entire body refuted the notion, her blood heating through her veins as the spark of contact with Kassian electrified her. Just as it had when they’d kissed six years ago. Only, the real thing was a thousand times more intense than her memory recalled.
A mantis entrapment? Yes, that technique might work.
She curled the fingers of one hand into his short locks, while raking the nails of her other down his chest, across his hard pecs, and trailing them to rest low on his hip. His muscles jerked in response, and the hands fisted at his sides broke free, sliding around to grip her ass.
Lust pounded through her core as his large, masculine hands lifted her hips to grind his neglected erection into her belly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned.
How had a man as sensual as Kassian ever chosen to deprive the world of his talents? She lost the train of thought as he broke free from her mouth to trace his lips and tongue down her throat. She tossed her head back in abandon, struggling to maintain even the slightest awareness that this was a test.
Nothing more.
Just like every other.
Test. Test. Test. Oh, man. His thumb grazed her nipple as he felt her up, or rather down, smoothing his hands over her body. She caught his lips again, desperate to connect with him, unable to get close enough. The chemistry between them was more addictive than any drug.
His fingertips brushed across her hips, then slowly, tortuously, ascended. She had to end this or she’d put on more than an audition for the Matchmaker. She dragged one eyelid open. Then the other. The woman surveyed them with hawk-like keenness.
Her boss knew Nat’s heart. No matter what happened, Kassian was the last man Nat would ever fall for.
The Matchmaker had told Nat so herself.
Nat disentangled her hand from his hair, broke their kiss, and shoved away from his deliciously hard pecs. Kassian dropped her like he’d awoken from a nightmare and she was the monster who’d haunted it. He jerked backward, thrusting one hand into his hair.
Was he okay? He had been acting, right? What if he hadn’t? His hand trembled against his head and his chest heaved.
Oh hell, hers probably did too. Her knees wobbled like she’d hopped off a merry-go-round after one too many turns. Pull it together, Nat. “Satisfied, Matchmaker?” Because yeah, Nat sure as hell had been while kissing Kassian. Damn, the heat of his lips lingered, but she forced an air of calm.
Put on an act. Just another mask.
The Matchmaker pursed her lips. “I’ve seen you do better, Natalie. You haven’t lost your touch, have you?” Her gaze shifted to Kassian. “I certainly hope you haven’t regained yours, Casanova.” She refocused on Nat. “Well, I suppose that was adequate. Let’s keep this a flowering level, shall we?” She headed toward the exit and called over her shoulder, “Get some rest. You’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
The second the Matchmaker disappeared around the corner, Nat pinched the bridge of her nose. To pull off this cover with Kassian, this fuzzy, lost-in-a-cloud haze must never happen again. She had to maintain a clear head.
Or she’d get both of them killed.
“Do better? Adequate?” Kassian’s snort broke into her thoughts.
She glanced at him from behind her hands.
He glared after the Matchmaker. “That was a damn good kiss.”
Her anxiety eased. He appeared recovered and unaffected. Much more so than she was, in fact. She continued to ache, to crave him. The notion he could get over her in an instant irked her, so she masked her lust with a scoff. “Your male ego take a blow? Speaking of which.” She pointed at his groin. “That can’t happen again. You’re supposed to be celibate.”
“Geez, Nat. I’m celibate, not dead.” He cocked a brow. “You don’t want that to happen again, then don’t do that soft moaning crap. I can’t help if my dick has a mind of its own.”
Her cheeks flamed. Dammit, she hadn’t blushed in years. One mention of Kassian’s eager erection, and her face engulfed in heat.
She smoothed her hand over her head, twisting her fingers through the ends of her hair. “Yeah, well, if we have to work together, let’s keep it professional. This is an act, after all.”
A hint of possessiveness flashed in his eyes, but it vanished as the corner of his mouth quirked. “Of course it is.”
Was he agreeing? She blew a frustrated breath. Kassian crossed the room and tossed off his shirt before lying on the bench press. His gorgeous biceps flexed and strained as he hefted the bar. While she…she still stood, wiping drool from her mouth. Ugh. She was supposed to be th
e composed mercenary. The one unfazed by any situation, complication, or…person.
Tucking the envelope between her thighs, she bent and tightened her ponytail. Once she straightened, she surveyed the training center. In front of her, a section had been marked off with foam fighting mats. Beside where Kassian worked out, the various weights amassed. Behind him, the glinting water of a large swimming pool reflected off the nearby walls and ceiling. Above the whole center, an elaborate tree fortress with attached suspension bridges linked the four corners and three structures.
The treadmills across from the weights caught her attention. Nat headed toward them, determined to pound away every last ounce of distracting temptation.
The reason the Matchmaker made her kiss Kassian had nothing to do with their mission. The test had everything to do with the confession of a lost, lonely, seventeen-year-old girl. One who’d witnessed an event so horrific, the path of her life had altered.
The woman had required everything of Natalie before accepting her into the Lotus League. Membership wasn’t a career choice—not a job she’d one day retire from. Being a Lotus was her destiny.
The Matchmaker didn’t control her fate. She held Nat’s soul in her manicured hands. No opt-out clause. No turning back. The Matchmaker had made damn sure once Nat committed, she’d be a Lotus for eternity.
Nat frowned and switched on the treadmill. Kassian was her test. He’d always been her test. To become a Lotus, she’d had to give up a future with him. To keep the Snake, she must prove she’d forsaken him. Permanently.
Leaving him behind had been the toughest decision of her life, but it had been the right one. The Matchmaker had given Nat the great gift of the Snake to enhance her Lotus status, but the woman had to be certain Nat wouldn’t back out. Wouldn’t succumb to the yearnings of that seventeen-year-old girl.
Hell, no. Nat set her chin and cranked the numbers until she hit a hard sprint. The Snake was everything she required. If she botched this up, more than disgrace would be waiting for her.
Damnation.
“Okay, I give up. What the hell is a flowering level?” Kassian had materialized in front of her without her even noticing. Damn, she’d been lost in her thoughts. Again.
She tore her gaze from his lips, from the flashback of their kiss, and focused on what he’d asked her. “It’s a code word.” Hopefully, that was enough of a hedge to cut off any further questions. Missions involving seduction were graded according to how far the Matchmaker allowed the intimacy to go. No way in hell would she clarify as much to Kassian.
“Aw, come on. How bad is it?” His wide grin disarmed her. The cause of the flushing in her cheeks would be hard to peg on the treadmill.
“Fine. We’re not supposed to sleep together.” She shortened her tone in an attempt to end his interrogation.
“Gotcha.” He tilted his head. “So…what exactly are we supposed to do together?”
***
Nat blushed. Like her cheeks had caught fire. The rosy hue was the first indication this awkwardness affected her.
That anything did.
Hell, she’d kissed him as though a camera had been filming them, hopping off him the second it stopped shooting. While he’d been struggling to rein his body back in, she’d acted as calm and nonchalant as before their kiss.
What the hell did “do better” mean? Did the Matchmaker intend the jab or did Nat prefer kissing other guys? Hell if he should care. Yet, agitation clawed at his chest.
“They’re guidelines.” She slowed her pace on the treadmill. “As partners working together, we should keep the boundaries clear. Sometimes, they can become muddled.”
He tensed. How muddled had they been for her before? Had she taken things too far with a mercenary in her past and why the fuck did he care?
He unclenched his jaw. “Right. Makes sense. So I’m clear, what the hell is ‘flowering’ code for?” Before he dug in any deeper, he had to uncover what the Matchmaker expected of him. The two women could play this little game of false seduction all they liked. Next time, he’d be prepared. At least he wasn’t expected to sleep with Nat, though how would doing so help their mission? He understood the need for a non-awkward kiss in public, should the cover demand it. Anything beyond seemed shady to him.
“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not going there.” She flashed him a smile and increased the speed on her treadmill, dismissing him.
If only he could do the same to her. Right. He would.
He reached over the top of the treadmill and shut off the machine.
Her body tossed forward and she threw her hands onto the handlebars to stop from losing her balance. “What the hell, Kassian?”
“If you’re going to learn to control the Snake, it won’t be by running your pretty little ass off.”
She pursed her lips. “You have a better idea?”
“I have about twenty, but yeah, this one’s PG.” Dammit. He had to stop the sexual innuendos. The flirting. Most of all, he had to stop picturing her naked.
He crooked his fingers for her to accept his hand. She slid hers right into his without the slightest hesitation. Like six years of time and distance didn’t separate them.
“Where are we— Oomph!”
He dragged her straight to the rock wall. Without giving her a chance to protest, he gripped her around the waist and hefted her upward. She snatched the handholds and he maneuvered her feet onto the rock face.
“Shouldn’t we use a harness? I’ve never done this without a h-harness.” Her lips quavered on the words.
“What’s wrong? Afraid of a little challenge, are you?” He smirked, waiting for her tenacity to flare.
“Of course not.” She huffed as she climbed to the next anchor.
Yep, there was her spunk. He stared up at her fine ass as he scaled the wall below her.
“How is this supposed to help me control the Snake?”
He followed her up to the ceiling. “It doesn’t.” He grinned. “However, Ox makes one hell of a cannonball.”
He swung past her on the monkey bar handles fastened across the ceiling, straight to the center of the pool below. “C’mon, Nat. Don’t be Chicken.” He winked, then flipped upside down and planted his feet against the ceiling. Shoving off, he cloaked Ox and curled the beast’s large body to spin toward the water.
Ughn! He winced as he slammed into the bottom of the pool. Recovering, he kicked to the surface. By the smack of the impact, the splatter must have damn near hit the ceiling. He shook out his hair and glanced up. Yep, she was wet. He tossed her a wide grin. “Your turn.”
She licked her lips. “I’m not sure you left any water in the pool.”
“Quit making excuses and get your ass down here.”
She frowned as though attempting to force out the Snake. Control didn’t work that way. At least, not for him and Ox.
Sheng would say, “You’re the master. You control the beast. Blah, blah, some other shit, blah.” Kassian hadn’t won Ox’s loyalty by forcing the spirit into submission. If he pushed, Ox shoved back. Oh yeah, the beast had earned its title of “stubborn.”
“Snake won’t let any harm come to you. You have to trust it.” He slicked back his dripping hair. “I’ll be right here, yeah?”
She sized him up and leapt off the ceiling. Her legs and arms flailed as she flapped like a baby bird learning to fly. And failing. Glimpses of Snake blurred in and out, but the spirit animal didn’t fully cloak her.
Her body smacked the water, hard. Ouch. He grimaced. She’d feel that one. The second her head breached the surface, he swam to her side. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” She gasped. “That was…a dumb-ass…idea.” She winced and treaded water.
He scanned her scowl. Her belligerence stemmed from more than the dive. She babied her right elbow. Must have hit it on impact. Certain she’d deny the injury, he snared his arms around her waist and dragged her to the edge of the pool.
“Hey!” Her small fists pounded his back, b
ut Nat couldn’t do any damage to him. Not anymore.
He set her on the pool’s ledge and placed his hands on either side of her thighs. “Where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine.” She fumed through clenched teeth.
“I don’t believe you. You’re nursing your elbow.” He forced his focus to her face because the sight of Nat in skin-tight wet workout gear wouldn’t hide the reaction under his own clinging clothes.
They’d already had that conversation. More than once.
“Nat?” He cupped her chin with his finger and thumb and drew her gaze to him, but she twisted to stare past him. “You’re a Chosen. You don’t hide weakness or injury from me, from any of us. We’re family.”
Kassian’s words cut into Nat. From the strain of his forced smile and the light missing from his eyes, it pained him to speak them. He might call her family, but he hadn’t chosen her. No, he’d tried his damnedest to exclude her. Since he hadn’t succeeded, was he biding his time, waiting for her to fail?
The gap between his words and his vibe formed a chasm between them.
“Here. Let me see.” He snatched her right elbow. She hissed; her traitorous body yielding to the heat emanating from his large, calloused fingers.
He eased his grip. “Did I hurt you? Sorry.”
She didn’t bother correcting him. What would she say, anyway? No, it doesn’t hurt, but your sexy maleness is calling to my inner feminine vixen?
“Did the Matchmaker tell you about the perks of being Chosen?” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, the light twinkling in his eyes this time. Without explanation, he cloaked Ox and the large, impressive beast towered above her. Like a hologram tipped, she no longer viewed Kassian, but the spirit within him.
Ox was bigger than a minibus. The two curved horns decorating either side of his massive head curled backward and upward. The spiked tips looked needle-sharp against his gray-hued hide. Bristle-lashed bronze eyes perused her with soul-stripping intensity.
Large nostrils flared as the beast sniffed her. It cocked its head and lifted one enormous hoof, pawing toward her.
By the Horns Page 5