“You project your thoughts when you’re turned on,” she purred.
He smiled. “So do you.”
Obeying one of those thoughts, which mirrored his own desires, he found one of her breasts with his free hand. Small and firm, it fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, just as he had known it would. He teased her nipple, hard beneath her shirt and sports bra. Stroked it. Pinched it.
She moaned and strained closer, her heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his own chest. More.
He lowered his fingers to the hem of her shirt, slipped his hand beneath it and smoothed it up her warm, satiny skin. Squeezing beneath her tight sports bra, he again palmed her breast.
She gasped. Releasing his hair, she lowered one hand to his chest.
At first, he thought she meant to stop him. She covered his hand with hers over her bra, squeezed. Then, she moved on, forging a burning path down his stomach to cup his heavy erection.
He groaned and thrust against her.
Smiling against his lips, she drew her hand back.
Étienne’s heart damned near stopped when she slid one leg up his and hooked it over his hip, opening herself to him. Urged on by her thoughts and her delicious body, he rocked against her.
Both moaned this time, loving it, needing it, equally frustrated by the cloth that separated them.
Trailing his lips across her cheek, he licked and kissed his way down to the soft skin at the base of her neck. “Wrap both legs around me,” he whispered.
Krysta’s already racing heart went wild at the hoarse request. Without hesitating, she jumped up and wrapped her other leg around his hips.
A breeze whipped her as their surroundings blurred. Then she found herself in another bedroom. Very masculine. Very posh. Very neat for the bedroom of a longtime bachelor.
She met Étienne’s glowing gaze.
“I want to make love to you,” he stated boldly.
She swallowed hard and nodded. She wanted it, too.
“Call me crazy,” he added, “but I didn’t want to do it in front of your brother.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, crap.” She had been crawling all over Étienne with Sean lying in bed just a few feet away. “How did you make me forget about him?”
He shook his head and strolled toward the bed, every movement creating lip-biting friction between their bodies. “I would have forgotten myself if my hearing weren’t acute enough to pick up his breathing and heartbeat.”
He stopped beside the bed.
Krysta lowered her legs to the floor and stood for a moment, staring up at him, her body tingling and aching for his touch.
“You can change your mind,” he murmured, so damned sweet and understanding it only made her want him more.
She shook her head. “I want this.” Again, she reached up and stroked his face, “I want you.”
For a moment, he looked so hungry for her she thought he might pounce.
Then a teasing gleam entered his luminous eyes. “Want to see a neat trick?”
Raising her eyebrows, she smiled. “Okay.”
He blurred. She felt a tug.
In a blink, they were both naked, clothing and weapons scattered around their feet.
He laughed. “I’ve never seen you so wide-eyed.”
“That is awesome!” she praised.
Grinning, he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.
Krysta shrieked with delight as he dove after her.
“Shoes on or off?” he asked.
She laughed when she realized they both still wore their boots. “Off.”
Sitting up, he quickly doffed his own, then turned his attention to hers.
She liked this playful side of him. Liked the feel of his large, warm hands grasping her calf as he removed first one shoe, then the other.
His gaze roved her body, splayed out before him like a banquet, scorching her and making her squirm with the need to feel all of that hard, muscled flesh against her.
And, just like that, all levity was shoved aside by lust.
He peeled a sock off, kissed her ankle, lowered her foot to one side of him. Peeling the second sock off, he kissed that ankle and lowered her foot to the other side of him. He smoothed his hands up her calves, up her thighs, his thumbs coming so close to the heart of her.
Damn, she wanted him.
He growled, exciting her even more. “Now you’re the one projecting.”
Her breath caught as he rose above her and settled his big, warm body between her thighs.
Étienne wanted Krysta so badly he nearly shook with it as he palmed one of her breasts.
Lowering his head, he drew the hard tip of her other breast into his mouth, loving the feel of her writhing beneath him. His fangs descended, as they often did when he experienced strong emotion, but he was careful not to let them pierce her soft skin.
“Are you hearing my thoughts?” she asked, her small hands exploring his back and hips.
“Yes.” They fired his need as much as her touch did.
“Then you know what I want,” she gasped, burying her hands in his hair as he teased her nipple with his tongue.
Fast and hard.
The thought came through loud and clear.
Reaching down between them, he found her already wet and eager for his touch, arching up when his fingers found her clit.
Now, she insisted. Please, Étienne. I want you now.
Hell, yeah.
Positioning his cock at her entrance, he met her gaze and slowly pressed forward. An inch. Then another. And another. Slowly stretching her. Savoring the feel of her.
She groaned. “You’re killing me.”
He winked, struggling to maintain his tenuous hold on control. “But what a way to go.”
She laughed.
He plunged inside to the hilt.
Both gasped.
She was so warm and wet and tight.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
Krysta shook her head, catching the concern in his eyes as he gazed down at her. She hadn’t been with anyone in a long time and Étienne was big, but . . . “You feel so good,” she breathed.
He withdrew, almost leaving her entirely, then thrust again. Hard.
“Oh, yeah.” She slid her hands down that wide, muscled back and over his ass as he thrust again. “Yessss.”
He thrust again, sending sparks of pleasure dancing through her.
“Again,” she urged, wanting more, needing more.
And he gave her what she wanted.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking her lips in a passionate kiss. “The things I want to do to you . . .”
“Tell me,” she panted, pleasure mounting.
He did. In explicit detail. Making blood rush to her face and her body burn hotter as he explored her flesh with his hands and that wicked mouth, continuing those long, deep thrusts until an orgasm ripped through her, stealing her breath and wringing a cry from her lips.
As her body continued to ripple with sensation, he stiffened above her and cried out with his own. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to hers, those strong arms keeping the bulk of his weight off of her.
Her own chest rose and fell so fast one would think she had just run a marathon. Heart still pounding, peace sifting through her, Krysta was content to just lie quietly and enjoy the moment.
Her hands didn’t quite get the message, though. She couldn’t resist the need to slowly slide them up and down his back, loving the feel of all of that strength above her.
At last he raised his head. The amber glow in the eyes that met hers had lessened, allowing some of the brown to seep through.
He stroked her hair, both his touch and his expression tender. “Okay?”
She didn’t know if he was asking if she was okay physically—it had been a long time and he hadn’t exactly been gentle, giving her exactly what she had wanted—or if she was okay emotionally. But the answer to both was, “More than okay.
”
He smiled and delivered a gentle kiss that stole her heart. Then he dipped his head and kissed her shoulder, where she had been shot.
Rolling them to their sides, he settled his head close to hers on the pillow.
His brow furrowed. “No lingering pain from your injuries?”
“No.” Which made her realize . . .
“What?” he asked, recognizing her unease.
She bit her lip. “Is it weird that we didn’t wash the blood off first?” Both had been wounded. And, though their wounds had been healed, smudges of dried blood remained where bullets and blades had marked them.
“No,” he responded, the lack of concern in his voice a relief. “The blood is ours and we’re both so accustomed to seeing it that it means little to us. And, on my part at least, I wanted you so badly that I could think of nothing else.”
She smiled. “Me, too.”
A teasing glint once more entered his light brown eyes. “If, however, it troubles you, I think there is only one thing we must do.”
“What’s that?” she asked with false gravity.
“Head in there . . .” he pointed to a door across the room that opened onto a bathroom.
“Okay.”
“Immerse ourselves in the cleansing waters of a whirlpool bath . . .”
“I’m liking it so far.”
“Bathe every inch of each other’s body . . .”
“Really liking it.”
“Then make love again, giving me a chance to do some of those things I mentioned wanting to do to you.”
Her pulse jumped. “Go get the water running,” she encouraged him in a throaty voice she barely recognized as her own.
Grinning, he stole a kiss, then leapt naked from the bed, giving her an eyeful of aroused immortal male as he headed into the bathroom.
Smiling, Krysta scooted off the bed and followed.
Seth felt his fury rise as he examined the unconscious mercenaries. There were eight of them being held in one of the holding rooms designed for vampires at network headquarters. All were chained together and lay on cots that had been hastily erected. Not to make the men more comfortable, he suspected, but so he wouldn’t have to kneel down to read their minds if touching them became necessary.
Two of the mercenaries were brain-damaged. The immortals were still having trouble determining how hard they could hit humans without killing them or rendering them useless.
He rested his palm on the forehead of a third, then a fourth, a fifth, his anger mounting.
He turned to face his companions.
Chris, Bastien, and Melanie all took a cautious step backward.
Bastien wrapped a protective arm around Melanie’s shoulders.
Seth drew in a deep breath and let some of the rage drain out of him. “There’s nothing.”
Bastien frowned. “Did Richart and Étienne hit them too hard?”
“A couple of them. But those who are merely unconscious yield no information that can aid us. They don’t know who their commander is. They don’t know the name of his operation. And they don’t know where it is located.”
Chris swore. “How the hell is that possible?”
“Each one of them was recruited from another PMC, except for that one. He’s an army veteran. Chris, I’d like to see if we can’t win him over to our side. He seems like a good man. He’s just been misled.”
Chris nodded.
“All are single—no families—and were approached by a man who claimed he worked for an elite Private Military Company that regularly received government contracts. He told them he had a highly secretive mission that involved homeland security.”
“Was he bullshitting?” Chris asked.
“We won’t know for sure until we confront their commander. Once they consented, he sedated them and took them to the compound from which they operate. They travel to and from it either blindfolded or in windowless transport vehicles. They don’t know where it is. And they don’t know who he is. He gave them a code name.”
Bastien frowned. “Are they stupid? How can they just go gunning for people based on something someone they can’t even identify told them?”
“They aren’t stupid. Just gullible. Mostly. Those three there would shoot their own grandmother for a paycheck. And they were offered a big paycheck.”
“How big?” Melanie asked.
“The equivalent of a Second’s salary.”
Chris whistled. “So whoever these guys are, they’re very well funded.”
“Which makes them even more dangerous,” Seth finished for him. More money meant more resources.
Bastien released Melanie and strolled forward to scowl down at the men. “So there’s nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you see the face of the man who recruited them?”
“Yes. I don’t recognize him.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
Bastien combed his fingers through his long hair. “If these men know nothing, we have no reason to believe any of the others will tell us anything.”
“Precisely.”
Quiet filled the room as brows furrowed.
They had been operating on the assumption that, if they could capture one of the mercenaries, Seth could learn the whereabouts of the group and they could swoop in and kill them.
And they did intend to kill them this time. All of them.
Chris’s face suddenly brightened. “Tracking devices.”
Seth tilted his head to one side. “What?”
“Their minds may not be able to tell us where their base is, but their bodies can. We do to them what they did to us. Plant tracking devices on them and let them lead us home.”
Seth met Bastien’s gaze. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Bastien nodded. “They think we’re monsters. I doubt they would credit us with the forethought it would take to turn the tables on them.”
Melanie didn’t look convinced. “What if they’re more paranoid than that? What if they check the men with metal detectors the way Chris checked these and the vampires you brought in?”
Bastien shrugged. “Plant the devices on their weapons. I’m sure they disarm before they’re scanned. If they’re scanned.”
Chris smiled. “You devious bastard. That would work.”
Bastien raised an eyebrow. “Is it doable?”
“Hell, yes. You saw how small the one the mercenaries used was. My tech guys can duplicate that and make it magnetic,” Chris said. “Would you and the other immortals be able to plant them on the weapons without them knowing?”
“To quote you, Hell, yes.”
Seth nodded. It was a solid plan. And it was good to see these two working together and leaving past animosities behind them. He clapped Bastien on the back and looked to Chris. “Put your men on it immediately and distribute the devices to all of the immortals in the area when you have enough. Their Seconds, too.”
“I’m on it. What do you want me to do with these guys?”
“Hold them for now. Preferably elsewhere so their complaints and shouting, once they awaken, won’t disturb the vampires.”
Chris nodded. “When Bastien started talking about recruiting vampires, I bought an abandoned missile silo and outfitted it with all of the trappings of a vampire’s prison in case the shit hit the fan. Do you want me to transfer them there?”
Once more, Chris had thought of everything. He was a damned good man to have on their side. “Sounds perfect. We’ll decide what to do with them after we discover who their commander is. Keep the veteran comfortable, though. The others are in it for the money. He’s in it to protect his country.” And he likely would be the only one Seth would let live . . . if the man joined them.
“And the vamps?” Chris asked.
“I’ll see to them next.”
Bastien took a step forward. “They seem sincere in their desire to side with us against the mercenaries.” He wanted so badly to help vampires, having seen firs
thand so many fight the madness that infects them.
Seth looked to Chris. “Would adding new apartments be a problem?”
Chris glanced at Bastien. “This far underground, it would be a bit of a challenge, but it’s possible.” He met Seth’s gaze. “I’m more concerned about security. If you give all of them the okay, we’ll have seven vampires living here amongst the human employees. We’ve given Cliff and Stuart more leeway lately and let them move around more freely on this floor. We can’t do that with seven vamps. Not unless you start assigning immortals to serve as guards. Two vampires against three dozen human guards armed with automatic weapons and tranquilizer guns won’t win. Seven might.”
Seth corrected him. “Three dozen guards and one immortal. Melanie is very strong. As strong as Roland despite her youth.”
Chris swore. “I keep forgetting she’s immortal now.”
“And Bastien lingers here most nights.”
Bastien caught Seth’s gaze and tapped his temple. Can you hear me?
Yes.
Would you take the four of us somewhere private for a moment? Somewhere the vamps can’t hear us.
Seth teleported them to Chris’s home and used telekinesis to flick on the lights.
Giving their surroundings a hasty inspection, Melanie wrinkled her nose.
Bastien took in the piles of clothes, stacks of papers, discarded pizza boxes, and assorted other crap that cluttered the living room floor and furniture and frowned. “Where the hell are we?”
“My home,” Chris said, glaring at Seth, “and don’t say a word.”
Bastien wisely held his tongue. “Look, the whole purpose of recruiting vampires is to get them to help us spread the word and get other vampires to avoid the mercenaries. Or help us fight as they did tonight, if it comes to that. They can’t do that cooped up at the network.”
Seth agreed. “What do you propose?”
“I think we should see if Melanie can find a way to surgically implant tracking devices on the vampires, so we can turn them loose every night.”
Melanie regarded him with surprise.
“Richart can teleport them to my old lair each evening, so they won’t be able to disclose the location of the network. They can then roam where they will and get the word out to other vampires. When they return to my lair before dawn, Richart can then bring them back.”
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