What do ye say we distract the kid with something and you take me to the bedroom and teach me some manners? His hands slid under the hem of her T-shirt and kneaded over her back. He purred in interest as he rubbed between her shoulder blades and found no bra straps. ’S math sin, a ghràidh. You’re my kind of lass.
His husky tone rumbling low in her mind made her shiver. Her body was hard-wired to thrill at the sound. That’s all it took, and already heat stirred low in her belly and throbbed everywhere else. His chest rose and fell against her hands, his pulse sped. She squeezed the blocks of muscle and felt his heart kick.
Abruptly Jack released her and swiveled off the barstool. “Hey, Cheese. Wanna take a look at a short-wave radio transmitter I have in the garage? It’s busted and I wondered if you’d fix it for me?”
Her heart ached, watching him limp through the kitchen into the laundry room. The boy loped after Jack, chattering about frequency bands for global broadcasting all the way to the garage. She wandered back to the bedroom and dropped onto the bed. Black satin sheets rubbed her arms, Jack’s scent filled her lungs, and she tried not to cry over his mangled leg. She didn’t think she could have handled following him into the room, watching him limp all the way.
She heard him approach, then stop. Cassie opened her eyes to see him gripping the sides of the doorframe, staring at her. “Never thought I’d see this.”
“Look your fill.” She smirked and stretched her body in a decadent pose, inviting him with her arched back.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Was I rough with ye this mornin’, lass?”
“Oh, yes.” She drew out the s and took a deep breath, and his eyes tracked the motion with predatory concentration.
“I, uh — I’m sorry about that, Cass.”
“Did I complain?”
His eyes widened, and she decided she liked seducing him. He didn’t expect it, and it turned him into an idiot. Ah, the power.
“All right then. I’ll have you screaming seven ways to heaven before lunch, but do me one favor first.”
“Seven? Wow, Jack. That must be some broken radio.”
“I beat the tar out of it before I gave it to Cheese. He’ll stay busy.”
She used an innocent tone, “Well then, how do you want it, Jack?”
He breathed a curse and scrubbed his face again. “Face me and kneel on the bed. Spread your knees and slowly peel off your shirt while I watch.”
“That’s your fantasy?”
“Do it slowly.”
She obeyed, and his eyes sparked iridescent light every time he blinked.
Cho brèagha, a ghràidh. So pretty, Cass.
Oh his voice! Her eyes fluttered closed. She would never get used to the way his sexy sandpaper tenor rubbed down her spine.
She moved to unfasten the button on her jeans but he shook his head — he wanted her wearing the snug-fitting denim and nothing else. She breathed deep and stretched her back, reaching behind her neck to lift her hair.
He purred in his throat then pounced, pinning her to the mattress.
“Ye please me, Cassie.” His arms caged her in, his bulky frame filled her vision, and he stared at her mouth.
It made her lips tingle, made her breath speed. He toyed with the electricity crackling in the millimeters between them, teasing her with an almost-kiss but stretching the anticipation. When he finally brushed his lips across hers, she gasped as sensation zinged from head to toe.
When Jack let loose he was indecent in a most thrilling way. He held her face and stroked her tongue with the tip of his in a slow slide. Without warning he broke away and ducked down to lick from her navel to her chin, making her squeal with laughter. He played with her like a tiger torments his catch: holding her down and snatching her when she tried to get away, his hands kneading and rubbing, his kisses hungry nips and bites then soothing sweet, deep strokes. She could play this game all day.
The surreal nerve-stroking feeling was addicting, amplified by the sympathetic pleasure vibrating in his mind. Everything was Jack, nothing else mattered, only his skin hot on hers, his hands touching her everywhere.
He had years worth of imagination to exercise, surprisingly romantic and tame, except for removing her pants with his teeth — that was a bit wild and made her think of a jungle cat again.
“Do ye like this?” he purred, working his lips up her leg, alternately sucking and biting lightly, beginning at her ankle and going all the way up.
Her breath hitched, she made an idiotic giggling sound. “Oh yeah.”
All of it felt good — he had made her body a live wire, almost painfully sensitive. Jack seemed to like having her at his mercy, so she let him lead. Inside her mind he listened to her response, revving her close to the edge but backing down to build white-hot tension. Overdose for her senses, out her mind in the best way possible —
“Amplitude modulation is most commonly used for shortwave broadcasting.”
Lightning fast, Jack rolled over and reached for the sheet, but it was long gone, strewn on the floor with the other blankets and pillows. He angled himself in front of Cassie and held the fly of his pants together. It didn’t really work, but the boy didn’t seem to notice.
Dizzy with the tantalizing spicy tang of Jack’s scent, Cassie rolled onto her back, shielded from view by his shoulders. She panted for breath and noticed the black satin covering the mattress had heated, almost too hot to feel pleasant, like it had been in the oven. They might have to switch to cotton.
“Continuous wave is used for Morse code,” came the boy’s raspy little voice.
Cassie grazed a finger down the nape of Jack’s neck, circled the dimples at the small of his back, then disappeared under his loosened waistband. She squeezed, hard. A rush of both arousal and annoyance burst from his mind.
Jack cursed under his breath. “Uh, great, Cheese. You’re the bomb. I’ll check out your radio later, all right? Now will you go watch Sesame Street, or the Physics Channel, whatever. I’m making out with my wife, okay? A little privacy, if ye don’t mind.”
Smooth, Jack. Way to educate the seven-year-old.
“Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.”
“Cheese. Beat it.”
“Valkyrie, ice. Hero, fire. Power!”
“You’re creeping me out, kid. Why don’t you go make those spinach meatballs?”
“A perfect pairing with the quiche hors d’oeuvre.”
“Right. And make enough to compensate for payroll taxes.” Jack rose and gave the boy a nudge down the hallway, then locked the door. He cursed a streak in Gaelic and raked a hand through his hair.
She teased, “Guess it’s good training for us. We’ll have to figure out how to deal with that.”
The angst drained from his expression, and Cassie wished for it back when a hollow sadness replaced it. His eyes looked miles deep and she thought he might weep again, but as soon as she saw it he shook his head and cleared the expression. His mind sealed shut, meaning he didn’t want her to know what he was thinking.
She already knew. He didn’t even pretend to plan a future together.
“Never mind. Why don’t you get over here and finish what you started? And get rid of those pants, Jack. Before I rip them off.”
He obeyed, but the wild edge to his lovemaking was gone. Jack the berserker who got turned on by blurring the line between love and war, she knew how to handle. Somber, gentle Jack, who made love to her with earth-shattering intensity, like it was their last time, frightened her out of her mind.
• • •
It sounded like the kid was watching Die Hard. Jack listened. Next time you have a chance to kill someone, don’t hesitate. Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom! Thanks for the advice. Aw, damn. If
Cassie found out, she’d string them both up. First Jack exposed the kid to sex, and now violence. Fine parent he’d make.
Luckily Cassie seemed deep asleep. She needed more rest, and the fatigue would only get worse. He brushed a blue-black lock of hair out of her face, and one corner of her mouth pulled into a smile. It was hard to stay angry with her, hard to let depression set in when she was so happy. She snored softly, draped on top of him, straddling his thigh. Nothing better than her breasts squished against his chest, her heart beating in rhythm with his.
Nothing better, except for the way her scent changed, mixed with his. Darker, more complex. Smoky almond. He could look down their bodies tangled together and stare all day at the trim curve of her back, rounding into her sassy perfectly-shaped rear. He grazed his hands over her thighs to her shoulders, up and down. Unbelievably soft skin. Strong but elegant musculature. She belonged in a painting, the expensive kind he could never afford.
He lifted his head to kiss her lips resting in a pout. Her sleeping mind made a sound like purring. Even in her subconscious she leaned into his hand.
He couldn’t put it off. It was time to make a phone call, the one he’d been dreading. And he’d better make Cheese change the channel. What if the little squirt went around repeating the f-word?
And when Cassie woke, he’d give her a ring. The heirloom, for the traditional ceremony this morning. Once Kyros and Lyssa arrived, he’d arrange for a civil wedding and give her a diamond. She could wear either or neither, but he wanted her to have the choice. Not that it redeemed him at all. Not that any of that would save him from Kyros, who had every right to spear his head on a pike.
Jack slid out from under her. The sheets were so baking hot she didn’t notice he got out of bed. Her hair spread in messy waves over his pillow, even darker jet than his black satin sheets, and glossier. She’d dyed out most of the blue streaks for the Navy job. She looked harmless and sweet, an amusing deception.
He pulled his pants on, irritated he couldn’t zip them, frustrated that he’d tumbled her until she passed out and it still wasn’t enough. His back burned with pleasant stinging trails where she’d dragged her fingernails, while digging into his flanks with her heels and shouting his name. He turned to look over his shoulder in the mirror and smiled at the claw marks. He was one lucky bastard. With one more long look at her even longer legs, Jack grabbed his phone from the dresser and closed the door.
Kyros picked up on the third ring. “You’re dead, MacGunn.”
“Oh. Did Cassie call already?”
A long pause. “What about Cassie?”
Now Jack stopped to think. Since he’d last spoken to Kyros to ask for the expedited use of a Navy helo, Jack had done something bad with Cassie and something worse: taken her into the heat of combat, then gotten her pregnant. Or was Kyros mad about something else? “She’s safe here with me.”
“I hear you found someone for our academy.”
Jack exhaled, but it didn’t help. “Boy, seven, maybe eight years old. Not sure what he can do yet. You’ll know what to do better than me. Krav held him hostage, there’s some damage.”
“Krav?”
“Dead.”
“Boris?”
“Not among the dead, not sighted.”
“Damn.”
“To my knowledge, all is quiet since the operation. Could be because we cleaned them out, or could be because they’re planning their next move.”
“We must assume the latter.” His slight Greek accent made Kyros sound official.
“Hey, can you come here? And bring Lyssa?”
“Yes. Say no more over the phone. We’ll come tomorrow morning. And then we’ll discuss the astronomical bill NSWC sent me under the table for damage to the med clinic on base. What happened, MacGunn? And why were you acting superhuman in such a place?”
“Bad reaction to the anesthesia. Well, the good news is I only flashed two human nurses, and that’s the worst of the superhuman activity. Cassie handled the rest.”
“And the bad news?”
“That is the bad news.”
• • •
“Lyssa? Is Kyros near?”
“No. He’s in the weight room.”
“You sure he can’t hear?”
“He’s zoned out. I gotta say … he’s so hot. You know that twirly-thing with the short swords?”
“Shim Gum Do.”
“Whatever. Looks like ninja voodoo. The dragon form, or whatever.”
Kyros was Cassie’s taekwondo teacher, so she knew he still had twenty-one hyung to go. Plenty of time. “Good. I need to talk to you. Actually, I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
Cassie scoffed. “What isn’t wrong, that’s the question. So, it turns out I’m a valkyrie, according to Jack. I fried a man with lightning, and liked it. Shot three others.”
Lyssa breathed an unladylike curse. “You didn’t stay at the base.”
“No. I almost got Jack killed, picked up a psychologically disturbed extra-sentient boy, and even after two surgeries I can’t fix Jack’s knee. He’s limping, bad.”
“Kyros can take a look. We’re coming tomorrow morning.”
“That’s good. Oh, and while Jack was high on medication I seduced him and got pregnant.” She tried to say it casually, but still it dropped like a bomb.
“You what?”
“We’re married, according to ancient Viking tradition. Did you know berserker babies take ten-and-a-half months to gestate?” Silence stretched so long on the other line Cassie would have thought Lyssa had hung up, if not for her hyperventilating. “So, I take it Kyros doesn’t know yet?”
“He was upset this morning, but not on the scale this is.”
“I think I should be the one to break the news tomorrow. Here’s my favor: keep Kyros from killing both me and Jack.”
“I can’t guarantee this won’t do him in. You’re the world to him, Cass. And Jack’s his best friend.”
“I’m not asking you to start something ugly between you and Kyros, but as much as you can, I need you on my side.”
“How about Jack?”
“Can’t tell if he’s angrier at me or himself. By the way, he’s a tiger in bed.”
“And how do you feel? Are you sure you’re pregnant?”
“Tired. Nauseated. Grouchy. I took a pregnancy test before I called you, just to be sure. It was supposed to turn blue in two minutes if positive. It turned purple instantly, then dark red before it burned through the lab fiber. I’ll do a blood test later to figure out what the hell is in my bloodstream.”
Lyssa paused again. It seemed she chose her words carefully, “What’s done is done. And I am happy for you. For you both. You should relax and take care of yourself.” And enjoy the time you have left. That hung in the silence, unspoken yet loud and clear.
“I’m sorry, Lyssa, about yours. Jack told me that was the second one. I had no idea.” Cassie had to say that, but it was hard, knowing it would hurt Lyssa to be happy for Cassie when she’d suffered two miscarriages recently. Cassie knew what it felt like to be jealous but feel guilty about it, watching someone else enjoy what she wanted most.
“Thanks.” A hollow pleasantry for an inadequate sentiment.
“How do you feel, Lyssa?”
“Fine. Kyros won’t try again, though. Not until he, and I quote, conducts more research.”
“He is a scientist.”
“Tell me about it. No one else would equate bedroom play with scientific research.”
“I do hope my son gets a cousin soon. Or whatever. What would you call it?”
“Technically some sort of ninth great uncle or aunt. Kinky. Better just say cousin.” Lyssa’s voice betrayed no angst or grief, she didn’t even sound motherly. Not a word of r
eprimand. Cassie didn’t expect this kind of support. What a pleasant surprise to find such an ally. Cassie would need it.
Chapter 17
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that was a Braille nametag.”
—Jack MacGunn, King of the Bad Pick-Up Line
Cassie finally got the boy to sit for a haircut, thanks to Jack holding the sides of his jaw. Still he squirmed like a monkey, and she did the best she could. Jack had managed to scrub the little ruffian clean in the bathtub earlier and bore the scratch marks to prove it.
“At least we can present a little boy to Kyros instead of a wookiee,” Jack complained, exasperated. He’d spent hours trying to get the boy to sleep last night, then hours more cleaning. Cassie couldn’t get him to stay off his knee, and it still hadn’t healed much.
Cassie nudged Jack with her hip, his cue to switch places so she could trim the other side. She saw Jack look again at her ring finger, where she wore his gold and silver Celtic knot. It was very old, and beautifully filigreed. Although it needed to be sized down, she would take it off over her dead body. That seemed to please him, judging by the subtle wave of heat that accompanied his somber glance. He’d also arranged for them to visit the chaplain on base after lunch so Kyros and Lyssa could attend. Ideally — assuming Kyros consented to give her away instead of vaporizing them on the spot.
She winked at Jack and leaned over to trim around the boy’s ear, giving Jack a view straight down to her belly button. He didn’t miss it.
“Fire,” the boy spoke through a clamped jaw.
“Nothin’s on fire, son. And hold still.”
Jack, I think he can feel your heat. It flares when you’re aroused.
“Above all things be earnest in your love among yourselves, for love covers a multitude of sins.”
“What’s that?”
“The Bible, Jack.” She tried not to roll her eyes. Yesterday he quoted Robert Frost. And Darwin. Someone gave him a college-level education. I wonder what happened to him? I have yet to hear a shred of thought from him. You?
Not a word. He’s hatched down tight.
Lyssa could hack his mind, and he won’t even notice. Cassie patted the boy’s shoulder. “Can you tell me your name? What are you called?”
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