by Kaylea Cross
Trinity walked past her without another word and dialed someone on her mobile.
Eden started to follow, then stopped and faced Kiyomi with her hands on her hips. “I get why you did it. I really do. But we’re not just your backup, Kiyomi. We’re your family.” She shook her head, a pained frown drawing her eyebrows together. “What if you hadn’t made it? What if we’d all gotten there and found you dead?”
Kiyomi’s cheeks flushed again. “Then you would have moved on and finished the mission to expose the Architect without me.” Eden gaped at her in astonishment but Kiyomi stalked past her, her shoulder brushing Marcus’s on the way down the hall.
Shaking her head, Eden met his gaze. “She talks like she doesn’t think she matters to us at all.”
That’s exactly how it sounded.
He stood there a moment after Eden went into the next room with Trinity, gathering his thoughts. What a shit show.
He ran a hand over his face, unsure what to do. What was done was done, no one on the team had been injured, and they were dealing with the aftermath as best they could. They’d have to get out of this place by morning at the latest, and with luck they might get some actionable intel from the electronics or the captured bodyguard that would lead them to the Architect.
For now, Marcus’s hip was killing him, and he wanted a hot shower. His shirt and hands had Rahman’s blood all over them.
In the bathroom attached to his room upstairs, he stripped and stood under the hot spray for a few minutes, letting the heat of the water ease the tension in his neck and shoulders.
After scrubbing himself down, he got out, toweled off, and wrapped it around his waist. He brushed his teeth, took a couple anti-inflammatories and paused to run a hand over his beard, contemplating at least trimming it.
The door behind him opened. He watched, unmoving as Kiyomi slipped inside and locked the door behind her. She wore that plum-colored satin robe, her hair wet from a recent shower.
She met his gaze in the mirror, and there was a surprising amount of hesitancy in her expression. As if she was assessing him. Trying to figure out how angry he still was.
The answer was, he was still mad as hell. But not for the reasons she probably thought.
He stood where he was as she crossed to him, turning only his head to look at her. She was so beautiful and strong and talented in so many ways. But she didn’t have a fucking clue when it came to relationships, romantic or otherwise.
Still watching him, she boosted herself up to sit facing him on the edge of the vanity. Without any makeup she looked younger than her thirty-one years, but the timeworn look in her eyes was much older than that.
He didn’t say anything, somehow resisted the urge to take her face in his hands and kiss her senseless, and finally she spoke. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry for going behind your back, but not about the rest. It had to be done, and I’d do it all over again.”
She looked tired. Fragile, although he knew better than anyone how untrue that was. “You understand that, right? Rahman had to die by my hand. I had to be the one. It’s the only way I could ever move forward.”
He searched her eyes for a long moment. “And now? Did it magically heal you like you thought it would?”
Sadness and a pain he understood all too well and would have done anything to remove filled her eyes. “No. But at least that part of me can rest now. It’s like a weight has been lifted.”
He couldn’t stand that she was still hurting. Couldn’t stand that he might have lost her today, when he’d only just found her. But most of all, he couldn’t stand her thinking she didn’t matter to him or any of the others.
He curled his hands around the edge of the vanity, not daring to touch her yet. She was addictive. One touch, one kiss and she went straight to his brain like a drug.
He wasn’t a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, or had fancy words to flatter her with. But she meant a great deal to him, so for her he was willing to try. “When I realized what had happened, my heart stopped.”
She didn’t look away, didn’t try to stop him or plead her case, just watched him intently.
“What you did scared the hell out of me, and it wasn’t just selfish because you put yourself and the rest of us in danger. It was selfish because you didn’t stop to consider how the rest of us would feel if you’d died.”
He paused to let that sink in a moment. Then, unable to stop himself, he curled a hand around her nape, his thumb rubbing over the side of her neck, emotion welling up inside him. “Do you know what it would have done to me if I’d gone in there and found you dead?”
She started to shake her head. “Marcus—”
“No,” he snapped, his eyes drilling into hers. He had to make her understand. Had to get this out. His fingers tightened slightly. “We care about you. I care about you. More than I’ve ever—” Only Megan had mattered to him on this level before, but for entirely different reasons, none of them romantic. “You matter to me. And if anything happened to you, I’d…”
He didn’t know what the fuck he would do. Aside from going back home to Laidlaw Hall and hole up there for the rest of his bleak, lonely existence, grieving for her until the day he finally stopped breathing.
Torment filled her face for an instant before she lowered her gaze. “No, don’t.”
He pulled her toward him, leaned his forehead on hers. “You matter to me,” he repeated in a rough whisper, his heart pounding. Why wouldn’t she accept it? “I would walk through hell for you. I would do anything for you, except sit back and watch you recklessly risk your life. I won’t do it. I can’t,” he finished in a taut whisper.
Kiyomi drew a shaky breath, her hands coming up to settle on his cheeks. He didn’t know if he’d gotten through to her, but at least she’d heard him.
She angled her head, settling those soft, full lips on his, and it was like lightning striking tinder. He kissed her back with all the desperation still pumping through his system, one hand buried in her hair while he wrapped his other arm around her waist to haul her close.
Marcus drove his tongue into her mouth, needing to claim her, show her without words what she meant to him. How much he needed her.
Kiyomi moaned into his mouth and pulled her robe open. Her naked breasts plastered to his chest as she rubbed them against his skin. He gripped her hair and pulled her head back to kiss his way down her throat, earning a gasp and a shiver as his tongue found a sensitive spot.
He was hard as stone beneath his own towel, his cock aching to sink inside her soft heat, make her his again. He forced the need aside and focused on loving her instead, giving her pleasure even when she pulled his towel free and slid a hand down his belly.
He groaned when her fingers curled around him and pumped, his mouth now an inch from her right nipple. He took the hard point into his mouth and sucked, rubbing his tongue over it while she stroked him. Her touch was too much and yet not enough.
Holding tight to his control, he pulled her hand from him and sank to his knees before her, putting his face close to the tender place between her thighs. She put a hand on his shoulder as he pulled her hips toward him with a hand on the base of her spine. Marcus paused to look up at her, making sure she was okay with this.
Her eyes were dark with need, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and she didn’t try to stop him. He kissed the soft skin just above her mound, inhaling the mix of soap and the scent of her arousal, nuzzling her before kissing the smooth flesh at the top of her flushed folds. She sucked in a breath and waited, watching him.
Wrapping both hands around her hips, he bent his head and touched his lips there, adding a gentle stroke of his tongue. Her thighs clenched around the sides of his shoulders and she gasped, arching toward him.
He wanted more. So much more. But not here on the bathroom counter.
Growling low in his throat, he pushed to his feet, scooped her off the counter and carried her through to his bedroom, his mouth busy on hers. He set
her on the foot of the bed, leaned over her to push her to her back, then sank to his knees before her, bringing her shapely legs across his shoulders.
She was perfection spread out before him like that. His stare riveted to the wet, silken folds before him, the swollen bud of her clit peeking out at the top.
With every bit of reverence in him he lowered his mouth to her and began worshipping her with his lips and tongue. Kiyomi wound her hands in his hair and whispered his name. She tasted sweet yet tangy, and her soft gasps and moans made him drunk. Drunk on her, on her response to every caress.
When he plunged his tongue inside her she grabbed at the quilt and arched. Her head came up, those dark, sexy eyes watching him while he tasted her. He pulled his tongue out slowly then thrust back in, reveling in the way her mouth opened, a soft cry spilling from her lips.
He would gladly do this all day. Stay here on his knees pleasuring her this way, ignoring the pain in his hip and leg. He wanted to worship her. Show her exactly what she meant to him, let his actions prove his feelings in a way his earlier words might not have.
“Stop,” she finally gasped out, and pushed his head away.
He sat back on his heels, breathing fast. Before he could say anything she leaned forward to cover his lips with hers. Marcus wound his hands in her damp hair, sliding his tongue along hers, his cock trapped between them.
A second later Kiyomi suddenly released him to turn around and face the bed. Tossing her damp hair over her shoulder, she looked back at him with smoldering eyes as she slid a hand between her legs and wiggled her hips. “Get in me.”
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth for a second while his brain caught up. Then he glanced around. Shite. “I don’t have any—”
“We don’t need one. I didn’t tell you before, but I got tested on my way to the UK.”
At the American military hospital in Germany when they’d stopped at Landstuhl to get her checked out and refuel.
She licked her lips. “I’m clean. And I can’t get pregnant.” She leaned forward onto one elbow, closed her eyes for a moment as she stroked herself, then nailed him with that sultry gaze that made his brain short-circuit. “Now get in me before I come without you.”
It was a miracle he didn’t explode on the spot.
Stepping up close behind her, he leaned forward, covering her back with his chest. His cock pressed tight to her slick core, all but killing him with the promise of the heated pleasure awaiting him.
Wrapping one hand around her hip, he guided himself into her, then gripped her other hip and leaned over her, his mouth on her neck. “Ready for me now, love?”
“Yes,” she breathed, pushing backward.
Closing his eyes, Marcus buried his face in the side of her neck and slid slowly inside her.
They both moaned. His hands tightened on her hips. He kissed her neck, the curve of her shoulder, scraping his teeth over the tender spot as he eased back and then surged forward again. A slow, steady rhythm, using her reaction and motions to guide him.
Her eyes were closed, soft, throaty moans filling the quiet as he worked her core, her fingers gliding over her clit. He reached around to help her and she grabbed hold of his hand, pressing his fingers to the slick nub.
“Oh, God, just like that,” she whispered, her hips surging in time with his.
It was incredible. The closeness, the slow, sensual build to explosion.
He lifted his chest from her back to watch through heavy-lidded eyes as the muscles along her spine flexed, the perfect heart-shape of her arse moving with him, her soft, slick folds closing around his cock with every thrust. Ahh, Christ…
Her thighs began to tremble. Kiyomi laid her cheek against the bed and closed her eyes, an expression of pure bliss on her face as she neared the edge. She was panting now, tiny groans coming from her as she thrust back to meet him a little faster, a little harder. Her core clenched around him, then her cry of ecstasy set him loose.
Marcus leaned back and gripped her hips as he thrust in and out, watching his cock disappear into her while she clamped around him. His eyes slammed shut as pleasure blasted up his spine. He threw his head back, barely managed to stifle his roar of release as the orgasm hit.
Still breathing hard when he could finally open his eyes again, he eased out of her and quickly turned her as he scooted her up the bed on her back. After grabbing a towel to clean them both up he crawled up beside her and pulled her into his arms with a groan of mingled contentment and relief.
Kiyomi draped a thigh across his middle and burrowed in close as the quiet hum of the ceiling fan registered and a wash of cool air bathed their damp skin. “Are you still mad?” she asked after a minute.
“Aye,” he murmured, eyes closed.
She kissed his chest. “I like makeup sex, though.”
He chuckled. “Me too.”
She cuddled closer, tucking her head beneath his chin. She fit so damn perfectly against him. Like she’d been made for him. “You matter to me too, you know.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of her head and hugged her tight. He was quiet a moment, thinking of what she’d said earlier now that his brain had blood supply again. “When you said you couldn’t get pregnant. Are you taking something?”
“I had a hysterectomy when I was seventeen.”
His eyes snapped open and he jerked his head around to stare at her. “What?”
“A tubal ligation wouldn’t take care of the messy business of monthly biology, and trying to regulate my cycle out in the field was a hassle, so they went for the more convenient option.” She sighed, didn’t protest as he rolled her to her side to look at her abdomen. “There’s no scar. They did it internally. Wanted to take care of the problem without damaging the goods, you know?”
He forced his gaze back up to her face, reeling and unsure what the hell to say. “Love, I’m so sorry.”
She lowered her gaze. “Thanks. It’s okay. I accepted it a long time ago. And it’s not like I ever expected to want kids someday.” A frown wrinkled her brow. “We were so vulnerable when they put us into the system. And then into the Program. No one did anything to stop them from exploiting us. That’s the part I hate the most. I want to stop it from happening to other vulnerable girls.”
He didn’t dare ask more, not wanting to upset her. But dammit, it infuriated him to know what they’d done to her. Those bastards had taken away her childhood, then her adult life, and they’d taken away her choice to have children one day as well.
Rolling her back into him once more, he wrapped her up in his arms and held her close, her cheek resting over his heart. “You all right?” A lot had happened in the past few hours. It would be hitting her hard now.
“Yes.” She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I thought I’d feel different. I know he’s dead, but it still doesn’t seem real.”
He made a low sound and squeezed her tighter. “He’s gone, and can never touch you again.”
She nodded. She was so still in the minutes that followed, he thought she’d fallen asleep. But a few moments later her breathing hitched slightly, then her shoulders jerked.
He knew before he felt the wetness on his chest that she was crying, and his heart twisted. He drew her even closer, one hand on the back of her head and the other banded tight around her back. She needed to let this out.
“I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, and held her through a different kind of release than the one he’d given her before.
Gradually her little shudders and gasps subsided. She melted into him with a sigh and her breathing grew deep and even as she slid into sleep. He dozed off too, awakened sometime later by the ringtone of his mobile in the bathroom.
“Stay here,” he whispered when Kiyomi stirred, and got up to see who was calling.
Megan. He dialed her back. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yes. How’s Kiyomi?”
“Better.”
“Good. Tell her we’re finished interroga
ting the prisoner. Didn’t get much, other than some messages on his phone. We dumped him at a certain location and left him for the local security forces to deal with. Briar and Georgia are en route to the target house in Atlanta now. Rahman recorded the conversation with the Architect. Amber is analyzing it now, then she’s going to tackle the recovered laptop. Trin’s working on getting us a flight back to the UK before first light.”
Good. “I’ll tell her.”
Kiyomi was sitting up on the bed watching him when he came back into the room to tell her. “Amber’s analyzing data now,” he told her. “We’re flying out in a few hours.”
A leap of excitement flashed in her eyes, then her expression hardened. “Good. I can’t wait to hunt this bitch down.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Rahman’s dead.”
Janelle laid down her pencil on her drafting table and sat up straight, burner phone to her ear. “When?” she asked the young woman on the other end. One of her most trusted members of her personal guard.
“Last night. Murdered in his bedroom at the compound.”
“How?”
“Stabbed through the neck while sitting in a chair. Killer used another blade to pin his hand to the armrest.”
Interesting. The team sent on her orders to intercept Kiyomi had all been killed. “What kind of blades?”
“I don’t know yet. There’s no security footage. I only found out from a source in the medical examiner’s office.” A pause. “Did you order it?”
She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Though she’d been tempted more than a few times. If Rahman hadn’t been so committed to finding Kiyomi, he would have been a liability. With all his military and security connections, under different circumstances she might have regarded him as a threat.
“Was it one of us?”
“No. It was our target.”
A kill like that, up close and personal, signified a strong emotional connection to the victim. She had experienced that phenomenon herself several times, most recently when she’d killed that asshole Glenn Bennett, the CIA officer she had fucked once upon a time to get what she needed.