by Maya Banks
“Very, and don’t you dare use it against me.”
He chuckled. “I bet you have a story for each of your scars. They’d probably stand my hair up on end, but I bet they’re not dull.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you about them sometime,” she said. “But right now I don’t really feel like talking.”
He slid back up her body, his sac rubbing against the inside of her leg. His cock was stiff and distended, and he ached to bury himself deep in her heat.
With one knee, he opened her wider. The soft hair of her pussy brushed his skin. He wanted his fingers there. He wanted his cock there. He wanted all of her all at once.
With tentative fingers, he touched the tuft of hair over her mound, delving between the warm folds of her femininity. He reached her damp core. Hot, so hot.
“Take me,” she whispered.
His body shuddered at the erotic command. The words appealed to the primal male buried inside. It was a call to claim his woman, to mark her, to make her his. It was a call he couldn’t ignore.
He reached down and grasped his cock. It was hard and pulsing in his hand. He stroked up and down, enjoying the sensation as he guided himself toward her opening.
He rubbed the head over her wetness before lodging himself just inside her velvet rim. He leaned forward, lowering himself over her body.
“Kiss me,” he murmured.
She framed his face in her small hands and kissed him. Light at first, teasing, like she was exploring new territory. Then she grew bolder, licking over his lips with her tongue, coaxing him to open to her.
He inhaled her scent, her taste, as their tongues danced. He rolled his hips forward, sliding into her welcoming body. Pleasure. So much pleasure. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers as he simply enjoyed the feeling of her flesh surrounding him.
“You scare me so much,” she whispered. “But I can’t stay away from you. I have this crazy, itchy, insane need when I’m around you, and I don’t understand it.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth then worked to her ear. He licked the shell then nibbled at the dainty lobe. “I don’t want to scare you, sugar,” he murmured against her ear as he rolled his hips again, sending him deeper inside her.
Her moan echoed close to his own ear.
“I want to make you feel good.”
She twisted restlessly beneath him. She wrapped her slim legs around his hips and rose to meet his thrust.
“Take me,” she murmured against his lips again. “Take me, Eli. Make me yours. I need you. God help me, I need you.”
Her words were like a sweet balm. A cool, healing wind in a sun-scorched desert. He gathered her in his arms, as if he could protect her from the world, her past, anything that had the power to hurt her.
Again and again he buried himself deep, stroking through her wet flesh. Silken heat surrounded him. He was drowning in it.
Her hands tangled in his hair. Her fingers dug into his scalp as she gathered handfuls of the long strands. She held him to her, his mouth against her neck.
She convulsed around his cock, the delicate tissues swelling as her orgasm loomed. His balls tightened. Excruciating. The pressure started low in his cock and pushed outward, straining to be set free.
Faster, harder, he rocked against her. She dug her heels into his ass and cried out. Liquid heat exploded around his cock, and he lost what remaining hold he had on his control.
Flash fire. Electric sensation seared through his balls, up his cock then exploded outward as he jetted into her in jerky spurts.
She called his name. He kissed her. Devoured her mouth like a man starved. His frantic pace slowed, and his thrusts became slow and measured as he pulled them both back down to earth.
Finally he slipped free of her in a rush of warm fluid. He rested on top of her for a moment even though he knew he was too heavy. It just felt right. He didn’t want to move.
She felt warm and soft beneath him where earlier he’d considered that neither of them were soft people. Yet now she was limber and pliant. Sated.
He rolled over and pulled her into his arms, resting his cheek on top of her head. Her chest rose and fell with his and deep contentment worked through him.
Her fingers slid up his side and to his shoulder as she snuggled closer to him.
“Tell me about you,” she said in a lazy voice.
An uneasy sensation crawled across his skin. “What do you want to know?”
“What was it like to grow up so…different?”
Different. He almost laughed. Different implied something mild. Like maybe he liked knitting while other boys liked football. Being able to make yourself disappear in a cloud of mist? That was a little more extreme than just different.
“What about your parents?” she continued on, oblivious to the tension billowing through his chest. “Were they like you? Were there others in your family?”
He stiffened but forced himself to relax. He couldn’t very well hold out on her now. Not after she’d trusted him with her deepest secrets. A sigh escaped him.
“No, they weren’t like me. I don’t know of anyone like me.” It sounded utterly pathetic even to him. The hollow loneliness seemed to radiate from his voice. What was he supposed to tell her? That when his teammates had developed their freaky shifting abilities he didn’t feel quite like a one man freak show?
“Then how?” She didn’t even finish her question. She didn’t have to.
“I don’t have an answer for you,” he said simply. “Some twist of the gene pool? Maybe my mother used too many cleaning supplies when she was pregnant with me or maybe she fell. I mean who the hell knows?”
He felt her frown against him. “What did they think about your…abilities? Were they scared?”
Scared? He wasn’t sure that was the appropriate way to describe his parents’ reaction the day he’d run home, terrified, to tell them what had happened to him. He sighed again. This was going to be a long story.
“My parents were…religious.” There wasn’t an easy way to explain their fanaticism or the fact that he’d grown up in an isolated, wary world. “I didn’t have many friends. In fact, most kids avoided me or made fun of my weirdness.”
“You mean they knew?” she asked in surprise.
He laughed softly. “I was weird way before I learned of my abilities.”
She pushed up from his chest and repositioned herself so that she could look into his eyes.
“My parents weren’t exactly role models when it came to parental love and devotion. Not to say that they abused me. They made sure I had food and clothing, but they were far more concerned with their duties to the church. I say church. I’d classify it more as a cult. I’ve been to church, and they don’t have much in common with the nutjob my parents followed.
“At any rate, I spent a lot of my childhood wishing I could disappear. I avoided any and all situations that would thrust me into the limelight. I was quiet and sullen.”
It was her turn to laugh. “But you could disappear.”
He rubbed his hand up and down her arm and ran his fingers over the curve of her elbow. “I didn’t know I could until I was ten years old.”
Her sound of shock was unmistakable.
“I broke my cardinal rule of never being noticed. Some dickheads were picking on a younger girl, and I knocked one of them on his ass. Then I ran like hell because there were four of them and only one of me, and I was a skinny, awkward son of a bitch. I hit a dead end in an alley and knew I was fucked. As I stood there waiting, knowing I was about to get the shit kicked out of me, all I could think was that I’d give anything to be able to disappear. And then the weirdest thing happened. I felt lighter. My vision changed, and I looked down and couldn’t see myself anymore.
“It scared me worse than the bullies I was facing down. But then they ran into the alley. I was so sure I was busted, but they couldn’t see me. They looked right through me and then ran back out.”
“Bet you didn’t
think it was so scary then,” she teased.
He grimaced. “I was still scared shitless. I was in total panic thinking I’d never materialize again. And then suddenly I was back. Just like that. I ran the entire way home just seconds away from crapping in my pants.”
She laughed and rubbed her cheek over his chest, burrowing a little deeper into his embrace.
“When I got home, I burst into my parents’ Bible study. They were pretty pissed because no one interrupts the word of the Lord. Then I spilled my story, and all they did was stare at me like I’d lost my mind. Then my mother started muttering about the evils of television and how they needed to start a prayer session for little boys who told tales.
“I knew they weren’t going to listen to me so I shut my eyes and willed myself to disappear. This time I became smoke. It was the freakiest thing. I could see them, and I could see the wisps of smoke. I can still remember the looks of horror on their faces. I couldn’t hold onto it long, and I materialized again.”
He broke off and fell silent for a long moment.
She sat up again and touched his cheek as if she could sense his discomfort. Discomfort. What a word. He was reliving the day his parents had disowned him, and all he could drum up to describe the feeling was discomfort.
“What happened then?” she asked softly.
“They, uh, wigged out.”
“That bad, huh.”
He nodded. “Yeah. They packed up and left with the church. It’s kinda funny now. They thought I was the Antichrist.”
Her eyes were wide with shock. “They left you?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Oh, Eli, I’m so sorry,” she said in dismay. “What did you do?”
He cracked a rueful smile. “Well, I can tell you what I didn’t do. I didn’t go around broadcasting the fact that I could do neat little smoke tricks. I was on my own until the local cops figured out my parents had split. They made a half-hearted effort to locate them, and I ended up in foster care.”
“Foster care?”
“Yeah, it’s sorta like an orphanage, I guess.”
She frowned.
“Not like yours, I don’t imagine,” he murmured. “Foster care is when a family agrees to take in a child who either doesn’t have parents or has been taken from them. Anyway, I was in and out of homes until I graduated high school. Then I joined the military, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“And your parents?” she asked. “Did you ever see them again?”
He cleared his throat. “Not exactly. I went to their funeral when I was eighteen.”
“What happened?”
“Mass suicide,” he said with a grimace. “Freaking cult they ran around with decided to pull another Jim Jones and kill themselves. The thing is, all during the funeral, all I could think was that they’d done me a huge favor by ditching me. If I’d stayed with them, I’d probably be brainwashed and dead alongside them.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “That doesn’t make my childhood sound so bad now.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around her. “I was okay, Tyana. No one ever abused me like they did you.”
“We’re both survivors,” she said simply.
He kissed the top of her head. “That we are, sugar. That we are.”
She wrapped her body sensuously around his, her legs twining like silken threads with his.
“Make love to me again,” she whispered.
She turned her face up to his and their lips brushed and held.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Somewhere between the haziness of her dream world and the pleasurable aftermath of their lovemaking, Tyana heard the beep of her communicator. She struggled out from the layers of fog surrounding her like a comforting cloak and quietly extricated herself from Eli’s arms and legs.
“You all right, sugar?”
Eli’s sleepy voice brushed over her ears, the sound giving her a warm buzz.
“I think I just heard from Tits,” she said as she got up and walked naked toward the couch.
She dug into the backpack and pulled out the slim mobile unit. Eli came in behind her and sat down on the couch next to her as she opened the case and entered a series of passcodes.
In a few moments, the message flashed on the screen. She scanned rapidly over it. Classic Tits, no beating around the bush. Just the necessary information.
She glanced up at Eli who had leaned forward. “Esteban is currently holed up in Germany. Neu Ulm. Breeding ground for radical terrorists. Coincidence, huh.”
“Yeah, I doubt it,” Eli muttered.
“It’s not going to be easy to go in after Esteban,” she murmured. “That area is already under so much scrutiny. Security is tight. Tits arranged a house as well as a cover. We’re a team of photo journalists traveling through Germany. Still, it’s going to be risky.”
“Every mission is,” Eli said. “Esteban’s desire to stay alive will help us. He’s a rich son of a bitch, and I bet he’s lining some local pockets there. He probably funds half the terrorist activity.”
“Still think he’s working with the U.S. government?” she asked.
Eli’s face darkened. “I don’t know, sugar. I wish I did. I’m not naïve enough to discount the notion. Until it’s proven otherwise, I have to assume the worst. I’ve had to work at building a network for my team from the ground up again. It’s slow going. No idea who I can trust. After Adharji, my U.S. contacts dropped me like a whore with the clap. It’s why you’re going to be more help than I would be in locating and capturing Esteban. Falcon hasn’t been compromised the way CHR has.”
“I’m sure Jonah would disagree,” she murmured. “He’ll say that I’ve single-handedly brought down the entire team.”
“Not an optimist, is he.”
She laughed. “No. Not Jonah. Brooding bastard. That’s him to a tee.”
“Well, you’ve done your part. Now I have to get us to Germany.”
“Going to have a problem with that?” she asked.
Eli shook his head. “My pilot is here in Buenos Aires. He’s very well connected. But then I pay him a lot to be. He can get us into most airports under no scrutiny or cargo checks. If he can’t get us directly into Neu Ulm, he can get us close and we can hoof it the rest of the way. Either way, in a few days time, we’ll have Esteban.”
Tyana nodded. “Tits is going to make sure we have what we need at the house he snagged for us. He has a man at one of the Army bases.”
“All right, sugar. You get dressed, and let me make a few calls. I’ll need to round up the rest of my team and make sure they’re present and accounted for when we hit the airport. We won’t want to be hanging around for long.”
She leaned over and put her hand on his cheek then kissed him long and hard. “Thank you. I know you’re doing this as much for you and your team, but thank you.”
He kissed her back, sliding one hand behind her neck and holding her possessively. “Don’t thank me, sugar. I might get us killed yet.”
* * *
It was still dark when they assembled at the small airstrip on the outskirts of Buenos Aires. Gabe, Ian and Braden were waiting inside the plane when Tyana and Eli boarded.
She glanced at the three men, gauging their mood, their demeanor. They were silent, alert and wary.
No one spoke until they were in the air, and then they gathered in the small lounging area in the middle of the plane. Eli relayed the information they’d received from Tits.
“It’s a risky job,” Eli said. “We have no back-up. We’re a five man team going into a relatively unknown situation with only sparse intel.”
Gabe snorted. “Like that’s anything new? It’ll be like old times, only this time we’ll expect to have no support instead of expecting it and not getting it when things go to shit.”
Ian nodded. “It won’t be anything we haven’t done before.” His gaze found Tyana. “The chemical you gave us. It works.”<
br />
She smiled faintly. “I’m glad. I hope it works longer for you than it did for Damiano.”
“Can we get more?” Braden spoke up.
“Assuming we don’t die and that Marcus is someone I’ll still have access to when this is all over with, I’ll ask him to examine you and Ian if you want. He’s the doctor who created the formula for Damiano. I don’t know a lot about it. Marcus explained that it was an inhibitor that reacts with and paralyzes the chemical receptors in the brain that apparently control the urge to shift.”
Braden nodded.
“That’s also assuming we haven’t become members of a newly formed Falcon hit list,” Eli said dryly. “I don’t imagine I’m very popular with them right now.”
Guilt crept over Tyana. Not only did she have to deal with the fact that she’d compromised Falcon and gone against a direct order from Jonah, but she’d put Eli’s team at risk by doing so. Jonah didn’t tolerate any threat to Falcon’s security. He’d definitely see Eli as a big one.
“Well if they kick you out, I’m sure Eli here will be more than happy to offer you a spot on CHR,” Gabe said slyly.
Eli shot him a quelling stare.
“Why isn’t Esteban on Falcon’s hit list?” Ian asked. “Why are we the ones going after this guy? Seems to me Jonah would want some payback for what he did to Damiano.”
Tyana shook her head. “Because Jonah doesn’t believe Esteban can help Damiano. And Jonah doesn’t know that Esteban was behind the chemical attack in Adharji. I didn’t know until I met Esteban in Paris, and if I had gone to Jonah with that information, he would have still shut me down.”
“Is Damiano that bad?” Braden asked. There was a hint of dread in his voice, as if he could see into his own future and knew that whatever Damiano had degraded to would eventually come to him.
“Marcus doesn’t think there is a cure,” she said softly. “He believes that if Damiano is going to survive he has to learn to cope and control his powers. His DNA has been altered. This isn’t some disease or sickness that can be cured by medicine.”
Ian stared at Gabe and Eli. “And maybe it’s sort of a sick twist on evolution. The strong adapt and the weak die off. Gabe and Eli seemed to readily adapt to their ‘powers’.”