In My Skin

by Shannon McKenna

  “Don’t cry,” he begged in a raw whisper. He touched his fingertip to the wet tear-track that gleamed on her smooth, beautiful cheek. Wanting to taste it.

  She inhaled. Luke sensed the ear-splitting scream that was forming in her mind, and did the only thing he could think of to head it off.

  He kissed her.

  Chapter 5

  Dani was so startled, she froze. What in the fucking hell?

  His body was so hot. Hard. There was just so damn much of him. She was confused. Panic tangled with knee-weakening heat. It made her frantic.

  His kiss was sensual, demanding. Masterful, but not rough. He cupped her face with his big warm hand…oh. Both hands.

  Tenderly opening her mouth, thrusting his tongue in, tasting her. Not even holding her arms down anymore. He was just making mad hungry love to her mouth.

  Like he’d forgotten that he needed to restrain her.

  She stood still. Not slapping or punching. Just letting herself get passionately tongue-kissed in a laundry closet by a mysterious assassin. Like she just forgot that she needed to be restrained.

  Like it had just…slipped her mind.

  He stroked her face. Reverently. As if he couldn’t believe she was real.

  She felt dizzy. Disoriented. She forgot which direction gravity was supposed to pull. His hot, massive presence overwhelmed her senses. She swayed backward, off balance. Then the guy grabbed both her arms and wrapped them around his neck.

  She clung to him, shaking.

  Out of control. Shifting, arching, rubbing up to him. Inviting him closer, accommodating his hard bulk. He was working sexual sorcery on her there in the silent darkness, on the edge of madness, and it was working.

  Her legs were opened now. Feet no longer even touching the ground. She rode his rock-solid thighs, legs twined around his, shaking with holding on so tight. No idea how she’d gotten there. It was happening so fast. No clue if she’d done it, if he’d moved her.

  And now she was clenching around him. Clenching and releasing, over and over, frantically, helpless to stop. His hand cupped her ass, positioning her crotch against the hard, hot bulge of his cock, right where she needed it to be…right…now.

  Again…again…and harder…harder, and oh…oh please…oh God …

  He caught her cry of shocked pleasure against his mouth as her body stiffened and wild pleasure surged rhythmically through her.

  And then slowly ebbed away. Leaving her shocked…and terrified.

  What the hell had just happened? She couldn’t even look him in the eye. Or answer the question. Not to save her life.

  He’d made her do it. Driving her to panic. Then trying to persuade her to turn to him for protection. She came back to reality, furious with herself for falling for it.

  Screw it. Stress response, temporary psychosis, Stockholm Syndrome, whatever. She’d justify and rationalize later. Now she just needed to get the hell away from him.

  He was as tough as an armored tank, but he had a weak spot. The one he shared with most of his fellow men, and she was wrapped all around it right now.

  He was so hard. His erect cock still pressed against her. She had to shut this down.

  She opened her mouth to tell him how it was gonna be—

  And found his big hand clamped over it, hard. He held his fingers to his lips. Pointed at the door.

  He pushed her backward into the space behind her dryer where her laundry hamper was. Pushed her head down, then her shoulders. Down, down, down. Huh? She was supposed to kneel…?

  What the fuck? Did he mean for her to blow him? He had another think coming.

  Click. Click. The tiny, almost inaudible sound riveted her. He pointed at the closet door handle. It was turning, very slowly. Oh shit.

  A scream wanted to explode from her lungs. She refused to let it out.

  Click. Last one. The door cracked open. The guy charged out, knocking someone against the wall. Grunts. Thuds. A choking sound.

  Dani lunged past them into the kitchen, snatching her phone up off the bloody floor. She skidded out the back door and down the steps, slip-sliding in her battered flip flops and sprinted through the shaggy bushes, trying to call 911—

  Someone stepped in front of her, heading her off. He grabbed her and spun her around, wrenching her arms back so sharply, pain exploded in her shoulders.

  Her smartphone flew out of her hand, hit the walkway and shattered.

  A big, gloved hand clamped over her mouth, pinching her nose shut, and a massive arm squeezed her throat. “Hey. Where do you think you’re going?”

  It was a crude, hateful voice. Not stolen-kiss-in-a-closet guy, who’d begged her to listen, who’d tried to tell her she was in danger…but she’d been too panicked to hear him.

  Where was he?

  His arm tightened, cutting off all her air…and she snapped. Filthy sonofabitch prick. He’d caught her on a bad day and he was going down.

  She went nuts, flailing and kicking at his legs, his boots, but he didn’t seem to feel it. She twisted, scratching and slapping.

  His hold intensified on her throat, over her nose and mouth. She tried to bite him, but he wore black leather gloves. He forced her jaw shut.

  Couldn’t breathe. Going dark.

  “…hear me, Daniela?” The voice swam in her ear, far away but weirdly calm and gentle. The heat of his breath was moist against her ear. “Answer me. Or I’ll hurt you.”

  She felt the cold edge of a blade press against a pulsing vein in her throat. If she moved, she’d die.

  The knife moved up her neck. “I’ll cut off an ear to start with. Do you hear me?”

  She dragged in as much air as she could get and jerked her head in assent.

  “Good. Now listen. We’re going inside your house to talk. My people are right over there. They’ll come inside with us. Do you see them?”

  She blinked tears out of her eyes as he moved her head to one side. She peered through the wavering blur.

  Three dark figures, bulked up with body armor, bristling with weapons. Cold, flat eyes. Two men, one woman. Their faces looked lethal and pitiless. She nodded again.

  “I’m going to raise my hand. Don’t scream. If you do, they’ll shoot. Your guts will be ripped apart by bullets. That beautiful smooth warm belly. I would hate that.” He dragged up her bloodstained shirt and stroked her shivering flesh, over her navel and upward. “Do you understand?”

  No air. Passing out. She nodded again. Yes.

  His suffocating hand lifted. Moved down, groping and pinching as it went.

  Dani rasped in a desperate wheezing breath. Not enough air. Her lungs felt locked. Her chest heaved and shuddered. Her eyes were wet and she hated that. She didn’t want to let this slimebag see her cry.

  He shoved her on ahead of him, making her stumble. Neck bent at an agonizing angle. Back up the stairs to the kitchen porch. Back through the wide open door and into her blood-smeared kitchen. She blinked her tears away, looking around for signs of the guy who had kissed her. Tried to keep her safe.

  Had that thug killed him?

  The guy shoving her slid his hand into her sweatshirt pocket, coming out with a business card. “Hmm,” he said. “Detective Robert Willis. I imagine he’s curious about what happened here today. Did you tell him everything?”

  “What do you want?” Her voice was shaky. She barely recognized it.

  She didn’t even see the blow, it came so fast. Like being whacked with a board.

  When she stopped seeing stars, he was smiling. A friendly smile. Young guy, blue eyes. Nothing remarkable about that face.

  “You don’t ask me questions, cunt,” he said blandly. “That’s my job. Got it?”

  She nodded. Head pounding, stomach lurching.

  “Where’s S-22?” he demanded.

  “Not respond
ing, sir.” The voice came from behind her, in the kitchen. The woman.

  Blue Eyes frowned, never relenting his painful grip. “Search the place. Find him.”

  He dragged her through the kitchen and the corridor and into the living room, pulling her down next to him on the couch, thigh to thigh, the gun on his lap pointed right at her belly. “Now, Daniela. You know what I want. I don’t even need to ask.”

  “Nope,” she whispered. “Wrong.”

  He glanced at the laptop on the coffee table. The blond chef was still prattling about soup stock. The others were yanking open drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. Making noise in her bedroom.

  “You like cooking, huh?” He flung a heavy arm over her shoulder, resting his hand on her chest. His fingers felt around, stroking her breast. Pinching her nipple. “I like a woman who can cook. Especially a pretty one like you.”

  “Can’t,” she croaked.

  “Can’t what?”

  “Cook. Can’t do it. I burn everything. I just like to watch them do it on TV. It’s relaxing.” Fuck, she was babbling. Stop it, LaSalle. Stop. Dial it down. Short answers.

  “Do you need relaxation, Daniela?” her captor crooned. “Are you stressed?”

  She shook her head violently. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

  “What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, more loudly.

  “Good,” he snapped. “OK. I’m going to ask you a few questions. If I like your answers, then everything will work out for you. If not…” He shrugged.

  Her body shook. Like an earthquake was happening inside her.

  The guy leaned close. “Where’s the package?”

  She stared back, her mind spinning with alarm and confusion. “What?”

  He sank his fingers into her thigh, savagely hard. “Don’t be a dumb bitch,” he hissed. “And don’t waste my time.”

  “I haven’t gotten a p-package in weeks,” she stammered. “I swear. I don’t know what package you’re talking about.”

  “The one in the courier. You’re a nurse. He hired you to take it out, right?”

  “Remove what? Nobody hired me to do anything!”

  “Who are you working for?” The guy’s voice retreated, faint and faraway again. The sound of her own heartbeat swelled as his hand tightened once more around her throat. Louder and louder, thudding hard. She saw his lips moving, saw the malevolent flash of his narrowed blue eyes, but couldn’t hear the words.

  He released the suffocating pressure, and air rushed back into her lungs.

  “…just want the package, and I want it now,” he was saying. “You brought him to the hospital. You were seen with him. His blood is all over you. Don’t lie to me.”

  Her mouth worked, trying to process what the fuck he wanted. “You mean Naldo? You’re looking for Naldo?”

  “I don’t give a shit what his name is. All I want is the package. Get it for me, or I’ll cut off a thumb.” He seized her thumb, bending it with brutal force, jabbing his knife against the web of skin between thumb and hand.

  A sting of pain as he broke through. A trickle of blood raced down her hand and down her wrist and arm, into her sleeve. Then more blood. Weirdly hot.

  “Naldo didn’t have anything with him,” she said desperately. “He just showed up bleeding at my door. I tried to help him, but he died. That’s all.”

  “You didn’t dig a capsule out of his chest muscle? You didn’t make that cut I saw on his body in the morgue?”

  Her blood suddenly chilled as the image unfolded in her mind.

  A flash of metal buried in torn flesh. That bloody thing she’d seen sliding out of Naldo’s chest wound. She’d forgotten all about it. Watching her old friend die before her eyes had driven that memory right out of her head.

  Her attacker saw the dawning realization in her eyes. His smile widened. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he murmured. “Good. Go get it for me.”

  “And then…you’ll let me go?”

  His eyes were pure ice. “I said no questions. Get it. Or I start to cut.”

  They stared at each other for a few seconds.

  So. She was going to die, no matter what she said or did. That was very clear.

  She’d have to strike quicker. Just one good stab at that smirking piece of shit before he wasted her. That was all she asked. She wanted to leave her mark on him.

  Something to remember her by.

  “Let me get up.” She kept her voice small. Didn’t dare move. “I have to find it.”

  “We’ll go together.” That vicious smile again. “I can help you look.”

  He yanked her arms behind her, clamping her against his powerful body. She took one shuffling step—

  Gunshots. Deafening her. She felt Blue Eyes pull back and swear, losing his grip on her, while the thug by the couch crashed down onto the coffee table, collapsing it.

  Dani hit the ground as more shots pounded into the wall and everything else besides. A lamp shattered. The room was dark now but for the light from the kitchen.

  The sound of running feet. Another deafening gun blast. She looked up to see a third man fall heavily to his knees, clutching at the blood gushing from his groin.

  Shadows moved against the walls. Shouts, yells. Crashing sounds from the kitchen.

  She turned her head. Found herself inches from the collapsed coffee table, face to face with the helmeted guy who had fallen into it. One eye was wide and surprised looking.

  The other was a gaping red hole.

  Dani screamed soundlessly, unable to breathe—until she saw a knife sheath strapped to the dead man’s boot.

  She scrambled for it, crawling over the man’s huge body. She seized the knife by the handle, yanking and tugging…and it came loose. A nasty looking black blade.

  Fuck yeah. She had a weapon and she was going to use it.

  Bursts of gunfire stuttered out, but they were down to hand-to-hand combat in there. Kicks. Blows. Rattling crashes. She glimpsed bodies flying—

  “Dani! Get down!”

  Yes. It was him. She knew that voice. His presence gave her a wild surge of hope.

  It was too late to follow his directions. Blue Eyes had grabbed her once again, and this time, a gun barrel dug painfully into her cheek.

  “I’ll kill her, asshole,” Blue Eyes bellowed in the direction of the kitchen.

  Not a sound from the other guy. Cutting time. Dani steeled herself.

  “Wanna watch me blow a hole through her head?” Blue Eyes howled.

  Her chance to leave him a bloody souvenir was…right…now.

  She stabbed the knife up into his gun hand, twisting it hard.

  The gun went off, a deafening boom. Something huge slammed into her. All three of them crashed to the floor together. Her on the bottom, the wind knocked out of her.

  The two men fought each other, right on top of her. After what seemed like forever, they finally rolled to the side, still a heaving mass of yells and grunts, blows and thuds.

  Then one of the men smashed the other one’s head violently against the floor.

  Silence, broken only by heavy panting. Dani fought for breath, vibrating with terror as a dark figure rose up to his feet with smooth animal grace.

  Not Blue Eyes. It was the other guy. Tears of relief spilled down her cheeks, but she still caught the quick flash of movement behind him. “Look out!” she yelled.

  Chapter 6

  Luke swayed backward as knives whipped past his throat and face, barely missing him. Thunk, thunk. They sank into the drywall behind him, vibrating.

  He seized the first movable object he saw, a big potted plant, and flung it as the woman operative barreled through the entryway. The huge pot hit her on the chest and knocked her down onto the floor, spraying dirt.

  She vau
lted to her feet and retreated into the kitchen as he gave chase, grabbing random kitchen objects to lob at him in quick succession. He dodged them all as they circled, keeping the butcher’s block between them.

  Then Dani charged out and leaped onto the woman’s back with a yell. Fuck.

  The woman whipped around, bucked Dani off and threw her against the wall, smashing her through the drywall so hard, she stayed stuck there.

  The operative took advantage of Luke’s split second distraction to jab for his throat. He blocked her and hit back, knocking a hypodermic from her hand with a brutal blow that should have shattered her arm. Leaving him open on the side.

  She darted in like a snake—and got him under the ribs.

  Shit, that hurt. He ignored the burning pain as he grabbed her arm, pulling her in close. Torqueing her arm up high behind her, seizing her neck to snap it—

  He met her eyes…and stopped.

  What the fuck…?

  It was like being stun-coded. His muscles were locked up. The time-warp moment seemed to last forever. He took it all in. The whites of the woman’s shocked dark eyes. The smell of her combat sweat. Her open mouth. Fear, his and hers.

  The spell broke. He shoved her away from him, her neck still unsnapped.

  They stared at each other, breathing hard. Panicked and confused.

  Not for long. Her lips curled back. A guttural shriek came out of her as she attacked. He grabbed the knife block, swung it against her head—and she went down.

  For what it was worth. She was probably still alive, like the other guy. These operatives were tough. Reinforced muscle and bone, resistance to pain, fast healing. Just like his own.

  He should kill them both right now, while they were unconscious and helpless. Before they killed Dani or him.

  Aw, fuck it. They all had to die someday. But not today.

  He sagged against the butcher’s block and felt beneath his body armor. A long shard of glass stabbed deep into his side twitched painfully with every breath. Hot blood flooded down his leg. The rapid-clotting process hadn’t kicked in yet. Shit. Bullet to the shoulder, too. Big bloody mess.

  He waved away the drywall dust clouding the air. Dani coughed, struggling to extricate herself, and wrenched an arm free. She dabbed at her bloody nose with her filthy sleeve.