Unraveled_Steel Brothers Saga_Book Nine

by HELEN HARDT

  “Uh-uh,” he commanded. “None of that, Sage. No words during your punishment. You’d take every blow in silence, to ensure me that you were thinking about how insane you’d made me today. When I got out of the shower, and you weren’t there…” The memory of his terror twisted with the fever of his lust, making him thrust against her harder. “Fuck, Sage!”

  “I am sorry.” A couple of tears tangled on her cheek. “I never thought you’d be—”

  “Hush.” He slammed his mouth to hers again, reddening it like he craved to darken her ass. With his gaze planted on her face, he ordered, “Give me your hands.”

  She frowned, clearly confused. “What?”

  “Your hands.” He gave it harder emphasis. “Off my back, against the tree, over your head. Now.” After Sage complied, he pulled one of his hands off her ass and raised it to her wrists, pinning them together under his grip. “I’d bind you like this too, Sage. Yeah, definitely. You’d be helpless, the same way I felt this morning, not knowing where you’d gone, not knowing who you’d gone with.”

  For the first time, the tigress in her struck out. “And if I’d told you, would you have let me go?”

  “Damn it,” he snarled. “It’s my responsibility to—”

  “Protect me. I know. Though from what, I don’t know. But protection is different than house arrest, Sergeant Hawk—”

  She interrupted herself with her own high, aching cry. It exploded from her as he widened his stance in order to mash their bodies with more ferocious force. Oh, damn. Her yelp… He instantly craved to hear it again. He hated himself for the admission, but it resonated as deep as his fucking DNA. He’d never wanted to go balls-out fighting with a woman at the same time he had balls in other places too. This… Fuck, this was as new for him.

  That’s not quite the truth, is it, Hawk?

  He raged at the reminder note, courtesy of his past. At the same time, he couldn’t ignore the truth that was in front of him, very much in his present. There was no denying the effect of this new thing, whatever it was, on both of them. Sage was an image of writhing, breathtaking beauty as she started to match his thrusts, her eyes closed, her lips gasping, her body trembling. His anger from this morning stirred with this week’s nonstop apprehension and flipped his desire for her into pure need. It wasn’t just his body that told him to conquer her now. It was his mind, his heart. He craved her surrender in every way he could get it.

  The comprehension spurred his retort, flung with no apology. “‘House arrest?’ That’s the line you’re going with, huh? Seems you really do want me to paint your ass red.”

  Sage chuffed, matching him snark for snark. “It’s your punishment fantasy, baby.”

  Again, he battled the simultaneous urges to spank her and screw her.

  The former wasn’t happening here, but they were doing a damn fine job of dress rehearsing the latter.

  “Well, maybe I’m not fantasy-punishing your ass good enough.” He crushed her even tighter against the tree, shaking the thing so hard that a flurry of pine needles scattered on them. “You’re still spitting that sass at me worse than a thirteen-year-old on restriction. Maybe that means you’ve got to have the punishment fucked directly into you.”

  He didn’t give her a second to try interpreting that. Instead, he showed her exactly what he meant—with his body. As he rammed more forcefully against her, he freed his other hand from her jumpsuit and grabbed her leg. Inside a second, he forced her thigh around his waist. His other arm remained raised, his hand still a shackle to her wrists, leaving her upper body open for his gaze and his lips. He took advantage of that opportunity, taking her collarbone, sternum, and neck with his open, wet mouth. Every shiver she gave him in return was a gift better than gold. No matter what, he didn’t stop rocking against her, pseudo-fucking her into the high gasp she finally erupted at him.

  “Y-Yes! Oh…yes, Garrett. Maybe that is what I need…”

  He intensified the pace. The friction of their clothes was an agonizing, erotic surrogate for the bond their bodies couldn’t have. “Tell me again,” he commanded. “Call me ‘Sir’ this time.”

  “Yes, Sir. Yes, you know exactly what I need.”

  He clenched his thighs, counteracting the flame his dick had become. He kept his gaze twined with the verdant glory of hers, watching her arousal spiral higher. Her legs shook. Her breathing quickened. Her energy intensified, enveloping every corner of his senses. “What, Sage? Tell me. Use the words to make my cock harder so I can give you exactly what you need.”

  “I…I need you to punish me. To…to fuck the discipline into me.”

  “Yes,” he growled. “That’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  He took her mouth so violently, he lifted her head from the force. He added a rolling motion to his thrusts, drawing out an exquisite little whimper from deep in her chest. He spread his knees a little more in order to drive harder at her.

  “Oh!” She gasped and bit his lip, too lost in lust to realize what she’d done. That was all right by him. Her fire fed his, blazing into the corners of him that had been freezing for so long, fusing the driftwood of his desire back into a searing rod of need. “Oh, Garrett! Please!”

  He grunted in chastisement. “Rephrase, Miss Weston?”

  “Oh, Sir!” she amended. “Please, oh please. I need to—”

  “I know what you need. And I’m going to give it to you. The explosion’s on its way, Sage. Your sweet pussy will have its satisfaction, I promise.”

  She whimpered and trembled beneath him. “Now,” she pleaded. “God, please…I don’t know how much more of this I can—ahhhh! Please! Now!”

  “Don’t think so, sugar.”

  “Garrett! Damn it!”

  He sped up their tempo, eliciting her into a harder moan. His own voice started coming in low, tight growls between his labored breaths.

  “The punishment might have been a fantasy, Sage, but the lesson wasn’t. Tell me what lesson I’m fucking into you. Then you can come apart for me, with me.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me? I…I can’t even think straight!”

  As much as it killed him to do it, he screeched his body to a full stop. All he moved was his top hand, twisting it harder against her wrists. “Does this feel like kidding?”

  She clipped his ass with her heel, making him clutch her tighter. “All right!” she finally cried. “All right, fine! Uh—errm—the lesson was—”

  “The lesson is.”

  “The—the lesson is—” She gaped as he started the cadence between their bodies again. She learned, at the same time he did, that the thirty-second break made their new grind a hundred times more intense. “Oh, Garrett!”

  He gritted out a harsh redirect. “Sage? The lesson?”

  “I know, I know! The—the lesson—uh—” She licked her lips with delectable desperation. “Don’t—don’t leave the house again without telling you. There. We good now?”

  She lurched her hips, blatantly fighting to get him closer—the adjustment working exactly the right way to stroke his aching cockhead. He shuddered from it but found the will to demand, “Why? Why don’t you leave the house without telling me?”

  “Garrett! Please!”

  “Tell me why, damn it!”

  “B-Because—it makes you feel—uh—”

  “Like tearing the fucking neighborhood apart.” The renewed viciousness in his tone wasn’t just because of the bonfire in his dick. His passion was intertwined with the other shit she needed to hear from him, to see in him. She needed to know how his heart seized and his blood became ice this morning when finding her note. How he’d wondered if she’d been forced to write it at gunpoint by one of King’s wanksters. How he’d barely held the truck to the speed limit when driving to the base after finding the papers in the driveway. She needed to feel what had driven him to pin her here and act like this. “It makes me feel like I’ve been cuffed in steel and can’t get out, Sage. Like I’ve lost you all over again. Can y
ou understand that? Can you understand what that does to me?”

  Her face contorted. More tears slipped down her cheeks. Damn it, this hadn’t been his intention when hauling her out here. He’d hoped for some fast necking and a grope or two to help take the edge off her sexual frustration, if not his. If a crystal ball had floated ahead of them through the brush and shown they’d be dry-humping each other through a mini psychotherapy session, he would’ve hurled the thing into the woods and told it to go back to the cheap toy store it came from.

  “I’m not lost anymore.”

  She spoke it with the conviction of a courtroom oath. The solemn words resounded into the depths of his heart and chiseled at every aspect of his control.

  “I’m right here, stronger for what I’ve been through, and you are, too. You came and found me, and now we’ve left the hell behind. We’ve left that bastard King behind…right?”

  He heard the deliberate pause she inserted before that final question. When he didn’t say or do anything to fill that gap, Sage fell into contemplative stillness. When she moved again, it was to test his grip on her wrists. Garrett let her slip free. She extended her hands straight to him, threading her fingers through his hair. “Garrett? Look at me. I’m here. I’m here. Do you get it?” Her grasp tightened. “Or is there something I’m not getting?”

  The flames in his body turned to icicles. He went stiff from the impact, and not in the great way this time. The wind rustled through the pines, a sound so peaceful it turned into a taunt at his soul. He couldn’t hide it from Sage anymore, either. He raised his eyes to meet hers. Her gaze, as deep and lush as the boughs over their heads, didn’t let him go. He witnessed every nuance of the conversion that took over her face, the lust dissolving, the dark bafflement taking over.

  “Goddamnit,” she whispered. “Tell me, Garrett. You don’t get to walk back up the dock this time. What the hell is it?”

  He stroked a steady thumb along her cheek. “What do I do for a living, Sage? You know I have to hide lots of things.”

  She ditched the confused frown for an outright glower. He’d backed her into an impasse, and they both knew it. Nobody had more reverence for his SF secrets than Sage, and he loved her for that integrity. To push him would be taking a hammer to that foundation between them. But her eyes revealed her insight. She knew this had nothing to do with work.

  A bellow came from the landing zone. Kell had unknowingly perfect timing. “Are you two done sucking face? The van’s here. We’d all like to get back to base and enjoy some of that yummy-ass brunch.”

  Garrett pulled Sage’s zipper back up and readjusted the painful weight beneath his thighs. Despite having to walk with a modified gait from unfulfilled need, he thanked fate for smiling on him this time. All right, it sucked that he wasn’t sure when he’d see a smile on his fiancée’s lips again—but for now, he’d yanked her from King’s tentacles once more, and she was technically none the wiser.

  He had no idea how much longer he could keep up this ruse, even if the cause at hand was her ultimate safety and security.

  The sooner they put the asshole away for life, the better.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sage sighed heavily as she stood in the kitchen, watching him from the wide window over the sink. Garrett paced the lawn, side patio, and back of the condo with careful steps and a vigilant gaze. All he needed was a brain bucket and an M16 and she’d swear he was out on patrol. The strain didn’t leave his body even as he sat at one of the chairs around the fire pit to strip off his T-shirt and get out of his boots. Every rope of muscle in his torso was still wound in tension.

  None of it came as a surprise. Or a difference. He’d reinstated his mental smokescreen the second they’d climbed in the van with the guys. Tait and Kell had led the general chatter, adding their embellishments about what their own first jumps were like, as well as their most harrowing adventures since then. Sage was glad some of their stories pushed believability, since she’d needed the distraction from the mysterious silence wrapped around the man who’d just brought her such ecstasy. Garrett’s restraint got no better during their drive home, when he feigned interest in the entertainment-news update on the radio. Since when had Hollywood’s latest hook-ups been so crucial to a man who couldn’t give two shits beyond his aunt and uncle back home, as well as the extended family he had here in Seattle?

  Either an alien had taken over her man, or the bastard was hiding something from her. If that something has to do with this new energy between them, she had a right to know about it. She’d burn through his whole damn forest to do it.

  Let’s do this, Smokey the Bear.

  She poured a couple of glasses of water as he came back inside. “Hell yeah,” he murmured when she offered him the drink. “That’s good. Thanks, sugar.”

  She watched him guzzle the liquid and gleaned a shot of courage from the moment of silence. There hadn’t been too many like this, where he’d poked through the smoke to let her glimpse the brash, wild mustang of a man who’d captured her heart two summers ago.

  She had to keep fighting for that man. To keep fighting for them.

  The mantra compelled her forward, next to him. As she expected, Garrett stiffened. She didn’t back off, lifting a hand and resting it against his chest, above the V formed by his dog tags.

  He didn’t retreat.

  That was a good sign, right?

  Sage slid her touch toward his neck.

  He grabbed her wrist with the speed of a cobra.

  “Garrett—”

  “Sage—”

  “You’re not going to firebomb me out this time.” Though he swung away, she hooked a hand into the crook of his elbow and dug in, at least as much as she could against his coiled bicep. “I’m not going to let you. Damn it, won’t you even look at me?”

  With slow resignation, he swiveled completely around. He hitched his grip backward, palms against the counter. He raised his head, though his gaze only lifted as far as her nose. His lips parted as if he were going to say something, but he just scissored his jaw at her.

  “Damn it.” Her rasp was more serrated than the knife stuck in the sourdough loaf she’d baked last night. “How long are we going to continue like this?”

  Garrett’s shrug was a maddening display of male evasion. “As long as it takes.”

  Sage dropped her hand from him. Fury eclipsed even her urge to leave a good scratch behind. “To quote someone near and dear to me, Sergeant Hawkins, that’s the line you’re going with?”

  That got him to pin his stare directly to hers. Nothing had changed about the dark cobalt edges in his eyes. “Were you listening to me today at all? You know there’s information I’m entrusted with, Sage. Information that can’t be—”

  “And you know that’s not what I’m talking about!” She shoved past him, storming into the living room, where there was more room to fling out her arms in frustration. “Keep all your classified secrets, Garrett. I get your job. I always have. But you’re not getting off that easy. You’re not going to hide behind your security clearance to avoid talking to me at all. Uncool, Hawkins. And completely unacceptable.”

  She watched a deep breath fill his chest. “You’re talking about what happened this afternoon.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, his tone even as his gaze. “After the jump.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m not letting you pretend it didn’t happen, Garrett.” Her chest tightened as the memories, hot and sweet, flooded her mind’s eye. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

  She dropped her arms. Held her breath. For a moment, she let hope bloom in her heart and gut again. She openly offered that longing to him, letting it paint every inch of her face.

  Garrett’s shoulders heaved as if she’d dragged home one of the trees from their forest and dropped it on him. His lips twisted. Conflict roared across his features. Still, she waited. She prayed for that dark haze in his eyes to give way to the brilliant stare of the lover who’d revealed hi
mself to her beneath the pines today. Maybe if she envisioned him that way again, trapping her, consuming her, taking her in whatever way he could get her…

  “I liked it, Garrett.”

  Her voice quavered. The words were dangerous. The last time she’d spoken them, he’d been marked with scratches from another woman, and they’d fought like hellcats. That night, they’d slept back-to-back for the first time in their relationship—slept being a loose term for those fitful hours.

  This time, his reaction was different. Really different. Garrett didn’t bellow or growl back at her. By this point, he barely moved. He’d either shoved the invisible tree free or decided to die under it. By the way his eyes slowly squeezed shut, Sage guessed the latter.

  Damn it.

  Fine. She knew how to light fires.

  Spark by excruciating spark.

  “I liked it…Sir.”

  She had nothing to lose anymore. If he was going to slip away from her and let her rot in sexual and emotional frustration on the pedestal of his protection, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it happen before she’d tried everything. Risked it all. Upended every damn stone, including his crazy misconceptions of the defeated woman she’d come home as, not the survivor who truly lived inside her skin now. That was the woman who brought her A game to the battlefield now—who had to be assured that if he stomped out of here, she’d have thrown every stick of emotional dynamite that she could at his stubborn, beautiful soul.

  He finally moved again—though went nowhere near the door, thank God. He pivoted back into the kitchen, grabbing his water glass on the way. He set the tumbler into the sink and then braced his hands on both sides of the basin. The pose made her ache. It was only a slight modification of how he’d spread himself across the window of their room in Bangkok. As he gazed out the window, she only saw the spread muscles of his back but imagined his face was stamped in a similar grimace as that day. His glare likely probed the horizon, reflecting a mind lost in a conflict she couldn’t comprehend.