The Protectors Series Bundle (A superhero romance anthology)

by Nana Malone

She froze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nothing like this had ever happened—ever. Not once. She never allowed herself any human contact. It was just too dangerous. Touching anyone for too long usually meant certain death, but with this man, her literal mortal enemy, it meant she could finally experience bliss.

  His hips rolled again, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on her breathing, not the emotions she was picking up from him. This was not real. This was not real. She said the mantra over and over again to herself. She could filter out his emotions. She could do this. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw the way he’d watched her move for days. The respect he grudgingly gave her when she’d put Julio and his buddy out of commission. The annoyance he felt when she almost got shot.

  He was a Tracker. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for her. For her, feeling something for him was a death sentence. But as their bodies shivered together, she knew this was a sensation she didn’t want to let go of. His body shook on top of her again. She could feel the resistance, but the weariness he must have felt was starting to show in the lines around his mouth. “Whatever it is you’re doing. Stop. I think you’re killing me. I can’t take anymore.”

  Finally. “I think that’s the point.”

  Again she could feel his cock insistently nudge her through his pants. He shuddered again and yanked her against him, nudging his knee between her thighs. Laying his hips right against her center. Symone sucked in a breath.

  Through gritted teeth, he whispered, “I can feel you softening. I can smell your need. Stop trying to kill me. You don’t want me dead, I can help you.”

  She knew her power was fading. Any more of this, and she’d put herself into cardiac arrest. That was the problem with her power, if she overused it, her own heart would stop.

  She released her grip, and his body sagged into hers.

  His stubbled jaw brushed against her cheek when he muttered, “At the risk of going through that again…” He lifted his head and stared at her for a moment before slanting his lips over hers.

  Chapter Eight

  Fire bloomed in Garrett’s chest. When Symone wasn’t actively pouring energy into him, touching her was more like an electrically charged caress. When he knew what to expect, the sensation wasn’t as much of a surprise. He knew he’d first feel like he’d been struck by an 1800-volt Taser. He knew it would threaten to blow him apart, but the moment he let go of the surprise and the tension, bliss would follow.

  Her lips parted for him, and his tongue slid in to taste her. Just like she smelled, she tasted sweet, with a chaser of spice. At first she didn’t respond, just lay tensed beneath him. But when he nipped at her lip, she shuddered and surrendered to him, meeting his tongue with her own. Her hands tentatively slid over his back. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if she’d begin the onslaught again, but then, he felt her shift her hands under his jacket. The scrape of her nails through his T-shirt followed.

  Desperate to feel all of her beneath him, he pushed himself off of her torso without breaking their kiss and shed his jacket. When he lay back down, she shifted and wrapped a leg around his hip. He buried one hand in her thick hair and traced a line at the hem of her T-shirt with the other, pausing at her belly button to circle it with his thumb. Her hips immediately rose to meet his.

  His cock jerked behind his zipper, begging him for freedom. He freely roamed the soft expanse of her belly spanning her ribcage, pausing at the line of her underwire bra. With every caress from her, she sent a tiny electric current flowing through his body, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The more they touched each other, the more he could tap into her every emotion, like he was tapping into her very life force.

  Symone threaded her fingers into his hair, and he groaned against her lips. For weeks he’d tailed her. He knew her every movement, but he never would have guessed she felt like this. So soft. So delicate despite her muscles and her serious ninja skills. She was still petite in his arms.

  His thumb skimmed over the fabric of her bra, and he detected a lace pattern. Given her leather pants and Muppets T-shirt, he wouldn’t have figured her for something so feminine, but maybe he’d pegged her wrong.

  He circled her nipple with his thumb through the fabric. Deepening their kiss, he kept up the teasing until she panted and breathed out a soft plea. He grinned as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the lace that covered the stiff peak. With every stroke of his thumb, her hips rotated, arching her body closer to his. Begging him to take her.

  His whole body hummed with the blissful energy she emitted. Everywhere she touched him, tingles of ecstasy licked his nerve endings, making him crave more. She was already his addiction of choice. His palm closed over her full breast, and she moaned and kissed him back with ferocious acuity.

  For heady moments, all Garrett could think about was how good she felt underneath him. How she smelled like happiness. For now, he couldn’t think about why he was here. What he was supposed to do.

  In an instant, something in the air changed, and she tensed beneath him again. He pulled back and frowned. Voice thick, he asked, “What’s wrong? What did I do?” Her eyes were wide as they searched his face. She sucked in her bottom lip, and he groaned. “I promise won’t hurt you, Symone. I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

  “I-I…”

  Her tongue traced over her full bottom lip, and it was all Garrett could focus on.

  “I’ve never been close to anyone before. I shouldn’t be able to be here like this with you. Even with your powers, you shouldn’t be able to survive my touch.”

  “If you like me touching you, then maybe you should stop trying to kill me.”

  The change in her was so strong, so immediate—fear blasted through any and all arousal she’d been feeling. She struggled in his grasp, and he held tight whispering in her ear in an attempt to calm her. “Symone, listen to me. I’m telling you the truth, I’m not here to—” A strong blast of electricity snaked up his spine, and he barely had a moment to register what was happening before his vision began to grey. Her fear had changed everything.

  ***

  Symone felt Garrett’s heavy weight sag on top of her like a pile of cement. She tried pushing him off, but he was too heavy. Eventually, she gave up and rolled them both off the couch.

  She dragged in a deep breath. What the hell was wrong with her? This guy was the enemy. He wanted to take her back and torture her. He was also the only voluntary human contact she’d had since she was sixteen. Four years was a long time to go without touching anybody. Who was she kidding? Even before she’d been taken, she’d been too sick to make out with anybody. Her body just craved this kind of contact from someone. Anyone would do. Even the enemy. She tried not to think of the way she’d clung to him, bringing her heat closer to him.

  Kneeling by his prone form, she slid her bare hands into his jacket pocket, looking for a wallet or some kind of ID. She doubted she would find some, but hey, even super villains made mistakes.

  In his back pocket, she found the handcuffs he’d tried to use on her. Pushing herself up to standing position, she grabbed one of his arms and dragged him over to the radiator. While she packed, she could at least be sure he was secure and wouldn’t come at her again, trying to confuse her. Maybe he had a pheromone power or something. That was the only explanation for why she’d just made out with the enemy. Because there was no way she’d stoop that low if she were in her right mind. Maybe she should see a shrink like Jansen had suggested. The Symone she knew would never have let someone like this get so close to her.

  But he can touch you. For a brief moment, you weren’t a leper.

  Symone cuffed him and let out a breath. She didn’t want him able to move. Already feeling more like herself, she almost smiled. The residual memories from her prisoner hadn’t yet started to fade into the background of her brain. Everything he’d gathered and deduced about her and his surroundings, his brother, his CO, Reaper—they all still clung to her. Like they were her feelings. Her heart wa
rmed when she thought of Garrett’s brother Michael, and she didn’t even know who the kid was. The one interesting note was that her prisoner was as distrustful of Reaper as she was.

  As she threw things into her bag, she kept an eye on him. Occasionally, his eyes would flutter, and she’d freeze, willing him to stay out. But he didn’t wake. She contemplated calling the Lair, but knew they would just worry. Besides, Seth had probably already seen her coming with the Tracker and warned Cassie to be on alert. Chances are they wouldn’t tell Jansen because he would fly off the handle.

  As she snuck another glance at the Tracker’s prone body, an image of the guy on top of her, kissing her, running his hands up under her T-shirt, flashed in her memory. Her whole body shivered in anticipation. Heat pooled between her thighs. She’d have to be careful with him when they got back to the Lair. With a compound full of super senses, someone would be sure to pick up on what she was feeling. She’d need to get a handle on herself pronto.

  ***

  Garrett struggled to bring himself out of the stupor. Instead of the floaty buzzy feeling from before, this time his skull throbbed. His body still felt light, but when he tried to reach for his-about-to-fall-off-his-body-head, his hands didn’t cooperate. Instead, a clanging sound came from behind him when he tried to move. Fucking handcuffs. So not the way this was supposed to have gone.

  He was supposed have come in here and convinced her to hear him out. She would have explained why she was all Little Miss Vampire Slayer and why Reaper wanted her dead. Then he would have gotten her to safety. He sure as shit wasn’t supposed to kiss her, let alone end up fucking handcuffed.

  He grimaced and yanked his arms again. Clang clang. “Mother fuck—” Pain seared his shoulder. He glanced down. A thick trail of blood oozed from his shoulder. She’d taken his tracking chip.

  “Now, now, you should watch your language around a lady.”

  Garrett brought this head up. The overhead light from the bathroom switched on, and he squinted his eyes to shield them from the glare. Immediately he assessed the woman in front of him. Gone was the soft willing woman. She’d been replaced by hard soldier. A year ago, he had been the type. Now what are you?

  “I didn’t realize I was dealing with a southern belle. Pardon my fucking French. I’ll try and watch my mouth next time.” He inhaled a sharp breath.

  He knew how this was going to end, judging by the waves of aggression coming off her. She was pissed. The thread of arousal was still there, but she didn’t want to feel it. She resented it, and him for making her feel something. Resentment was a powerful emotion in the hands of any woman, let alone one with a score to settle.

  He steadied his breath as he grabbed the base of the heating vent he was chained to. Slowly, he worked the base of the radiator with his palms. If he could just get it loose—

  “Oh fantastic, a comedian.” She squatted down to meet his gaze and checked his shoulder. She placed a suture kit on the tiled floor and pulled the needle out. “I’ve been dealing with you Trackers for over four years since you morons snatched me up off the streets. Granted I haven’t run across one of you assholes in a while, but in all this time, not one of you has ever cracked a joke. Just kill, kill, kill. Or attempt to kill as the case may be. For Trackers, you guys kind of suck at your jobs. You only ever managed to miss Cassie, then she, Seth, and Jansen took a fleet of you out in Riddenwell. You and I have already tangoed, and I don’t think you liked it much.”

  Hazel eyes with flecks of green met his. A spark lit through his body, and he immediately wanted to press right between her thighs just like he had before—what the hell had happened to him? “On the contrary, sweetheart. I’m dying to get you under me again—moaning for me. You would have let me have you. Opened your soul up to me.” He knew he was pushing his luck and should shut up. They were running out of time. If she knocked him out again, that was more precious time they would lose. But he was pissed that she’d so easily shoved what she’d felt aside and was ready to kill him. “Even now, I can smell the need all over you. You want me.”

  He watched as the delicate line of her jaw set. “I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you. Where you’re going, there’s a few people who have the power and hatred to kill you on sight.”

  He traced the outline of features with his eyes, drinking every angle and curve, from her cinnamon-kissed skin to her lightly upturned nose, to her full lips and almond-shaped eyes. “But not you? Why don’t you hate me?”

  She threaded the needle and knotted the end, before donning the thinnest leather gloves he’d ever seen. “How can you be so sure I don’t hate you?”

  “Maybe it’s the way your body wrapped around mine on your couch. Maybe because I can still taste you, and I’m dying to know how you taste all over.”

  He flinched as sure hands began the sutures.

  “This again? I don’t want you.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell your friends. But I know what happened in your living room wasn’t a fluke. You want me.”

  She sighed and rocked back on her heels. “Have you figured out my power yet?”

  “Seems like you kill people with electric ecstasy. You’re the most potent kind of drug I’ve ever experienced. “

  “Wrong. Usually my touch can kill someone if I hold on for more than a few moments. When I’m holding on, I get their memories, their feelings. If they’re amplified like I am, I get their abilities for a short time. You know what they get? Pain. I’ve been told it’s like the equivalent of over a thousand volts of electricity going through the body. You’re not supposed to be alive.”

  He stared at her. “So you’ve touched someone like me before?”

  “Oh yes. It didn’t end well.”

  He’d deal with that tidbit of information later. “What happened when you touched them?”

  “They went down like a sack of potatoes and didn’t move for a good hour. When asked what it felt like, they all say it’s like the worst electro-shock of their lives, and they would know. You’re the first person in three years I’ve been able to touch who seems somewhat unaffected.”

  He blew out a breath. “So what you’re saying is, what happened on your couch was just you enjoying someone touching you.”

  She raised a delicate brow. “Four years is a long time to go without human contact.” She sniffed. “But don’t worry. It won’t be happening again. You probably won’t live that long.”

  “Don’t count me out, princess. You go on believing whatever you have to believe to sleep at night. But you’re forgetting one detail.”

  She tied the last suture and used the tiny scissors to cut the nearly transparent thread. “I can tell when you want me. Your mind can lie, but your body can’t. Just like I can’t hide anything from you, once you touch me. You can’t hide the fact that you want me.” He grinned. He was goading her, but she just gave him a sad smile.

  “You’re right. I would have let you do whatever you wanted. It’s nice being able to touch someone.” She cocked her head and smiled. “And not give a shit about killing them.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Bullshit. I can feel you. I’m an empath. I know you’re scared and want to keep me at arm’s length because it’s easier. So just pretend you don’t feel this thing between us. Sooner or later, you’ll have to deal with it. I prefer sooner.” He shrugged. “But I have a feeling you’ll be worth the wait.”

  She didn’t show any reaction to what he’d said. Her emotional state didn’t change either. Like she’d locked away all her feelings and hidden them where he couldn’t find them. “You said you wanted to talk to me. I’m all packed and ready to go, so you better get started. Then I can decide if I’m going to take you with me or leave you here for your Tracker buddies to find.” She shrugged. “They probably will be a little pissed you stood them up.”

  Now or never. “You just said that thanks to my boss, you haven’t been able to touch anyone. You make it sound like he did something
to you against your will. We all knew what the Hidden Soldier program was before we signed on.”

  She scoffed. “What you call the Hidden Soldier program, we call torture. He took me and my friends from our families and tortured us for years with experimental drugs, grueling training, psychological mind games, and testing the limits of our powers by any means necessary. I didn’t sign on for that shit.” She spat. “He sterilized all of the girls. We can’t ever have children. You think I volunteered for that?”

  Garrett shook his head, trying to sift through what she was saying. “The program’s only been around for a year and a half. I was approached through Symcore. We’re supposed to be an elite team of special ops soldiers.”

  Symone puffed a laugh, even as she paced n front of him. “Looks like you drank the Kool-aid. Peter was in bed with Symcore back when he ran Gentech. He was trying to build a super soldier. His sister, Cassie, was his first experiment. She was completely an accident, of course. He started by trying to cure her of her congenital heart failure. The drugs he gave her cured her all right. But they also had some unintended side effects.”

  “So you’re saying we weren’t the first?”

  She smirked. “Kinda chaps your ass that you’re not special, huh? Anyway, once he found out the side effects on Cassie, he started thinking about the weapons implications. He used himself as a guinea pig too. What he discovered was the serum worked best on children. He started recruiting. And by recruiting, I mean kidnapping. Eighteen months ago, Cassie broke us out. He was supposed to have died in the fire.”

  Garrett’s head spun. Reaper’s scars. He’d seen them himself. Burn scars up and down his arms and part of his neck and face. “So that’s the real reason he wants you back. You’re his creation.”

  “Just call me Frankenstein. When he supposedly died, Cassie took over as head of Gentech and began dismantling the company piece by piece. We’ve been lying low ever since.”

  Shame washed through him first. Then regret and anger. All this time, he’d been working for the devil himself. All those missions tracking people down... Who had he been hunting and for what purpose? And now that monster had Michael in his sights, Garrett’s sixteen-year-old brother. No wonder Reaper had been so interested in Garrett’s family life. “He has my kid brother. Threatened to kill him if I didn’t bring you to him.”