by Kit Rocha
"Not a damn one." He whispered the words against her forehead as the very tip of his middle finger arrowed in, stroking with enough pressure to arch her back. "You'll be ours. Just ours. And we'll give you everything."
She tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "Do you like it? Having him decide how you get to touch me?"
"You think that's what he's doing?" His touch shifted again, finger swooping low through her folds. "He's not deciding how, angel, only how far. He won't let me take too much, too fast."
Too much of her. Rachel shuddered. "Do you want to?" she asked softly.
"Yes." It tore free of him, a confession and a warning. "Christ, the things I would do to you. All my damn life I've been good at playing games, but you make me want so hard I forget the fucking rules."
Tenderness kindled a different kind of warmth. It crashed into the rising pleasure, heightening both, and she nestled her face in the wet hollow of his throat. "Wanting that much?" She moved her hand faster, jerking over him as she teased the edge of her teeth against his skin. "I know how it feels."
It was his turn to shudder, and his caress sped. "Show me," he groaned. "Let go, angel, and fly for me."
Steam billowed around them, blocking out the rest of the world. They were locked together, flesh gliding against flesh as they strained toward release. Rachel came with a cry, her hips snapping against Ace's hand of their own volition, Cruz's words echoing in her ears.
Only sweetness.
And sweetness was what Ace gave her. Soft strokes that soothed her through her shaking without driving her higher, and his lips against her ear, whispering encouragement and affection. When she started to drift down, he dropped his free hand to cover hers, pressing her fingers tight around his cock.
Christ, he was trembling. She licked his lips, then slanted her mouth to his, capturing his groan as he thrust into her grip and came on her belly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kept kissing him. This was a brand-new world--having instead of wanting, feeling so much instead of merely the hollow ache of loss.
No wonder the earth was still quivering beneath her feet.
There were a dozen ways to bypass the secure walls that guarded Eden from the end of the world, and Cruz knew them all. He knew the blind spots in the security system, the easiest places to scale the walls without being noticed, and how to slip beneath them using the tunnel system few outside the Special Tasks force even realized existed.
He also knew the guards manning the gates. Not just their ranks and names, but their lives and stories. It was the most subversive rebellion he'd allowed himself in all his years of obedience, the choice to make connections with people who should have been beneath his notice.
Howard McGrady worked first shift on the Sector Four checkpoint. He was forty-three years old, with a wife and one daughter--Aileen would be twelve by now, undoubtedly growing as pretty as her mother. Howard had shown Cruz a vid of the three of them on her tenth birthday, seven full minutes of family bliss. Watching had left a hollow ache in his chest, though the fact that the video existed at all helped to ease it.
Aileen would have died before her fifth birthday if Cruz hadn't procured the medication necessary to save her.
It had been nothing to him. A minor inconvenience. But it had meant everything to Howard, and sometimes the strength of his gratitude had unnerved Cruz. Before he'd defected from the city, there'd been no one in his life who could evoke that level of intensity. He understood fondness, and companionship, even brotherhood--
Love was something else. Dangerous. Terrifying.
Powerful.
Love was what allowed Cruz to join the line at the checkpoint. Howard had a scanner in hand, one linked to the computer just inside the gatehouse. It tracked not only who entered the gates, but who left Eden and how long they were gone. When Cruz's turn came, Howard pretended to wave the scanner over the leather cuffs covering his O'Kane ink before waving him on with no other sign of recognition.
Love, or loyalty. Maybe there wasn't a difference.
Being inside the walls should have felt like coming home, but Cruz had been a shadow here. Home--if he'd ever had one--was the Base, the military outpost where Eden trained its elite soldiers. It was a rough place, a bluntly honest one. Everyone openly acknowledged your rank and status as everything, not like here where they tried so hard to pretend the shiny buildings and fancy lives were within your grasp, if you only worked hard enough.
Cruz cut through a middle-class residential district, skirting the high-rise skyscrapers that lined the river. Eden's elite lived in those buildings, with councilmen's families enjoying the lavish penthouses while their maids and cooks huddled in crowded barracks in the basements and counted themselves lucky.
Maybe they were. Not everyone could stumble into Sector Four and survive the experience.
A dozen footbridges spanned the narrow river, most crowded with people rushing to work. Cruz joined the crowd headed toward the market district, drifting along until he was sure no one had followed him from the gates. Only then did he peel off, ducking into an alley between two warehouses.
The street on the other side was decidedly dingier. He wasn't far from the neighborhood where Rachel had grown up now--a few streets over and he'd stumble into her family's territory.
Not that he particularly wanted to look Liam Riley in the eyes right now. Not after last night--and all the things he'd considered doing to the man's daughter this morning. God, all the things he still wanted to do to her.
Some fucking hero he was.
Coop fell in beside him, straight-faced and casual. "In town for a little shopping, my boy?"
"Maybe." Some of the tension knotting Cruz's shoulders eased at the older man's appearance. Coop might have aching joints and bones that had been broken far too often, but there was nothing wrong with the man's brain. His presence meant a degree of safety. "Maybe I just wanted to visit an old friend."
It elicited a deep laugh, one that came from the man's gut and trailed off into a delighted wheeze. "Haven't lost your sense of humor, have you?"
It was impossible not to smile, even if it meant poking fun at himself. "Fine. I needed to visit an old friend."
"Now, that's more like it." Coop turned his twinkling blue gaze up to study Cruz's face. "How are you making out, running with O'Kane? He's treating you right, I hope."
"No complaints. O'Kane's not stupid. He likes having guys like me and Bren around." Dallas was too smart not to respect their training--and their contacts.
"Good to hear it."
Silence fell, carrying them to the end of the street. The bartering district was to their right, forming a quasi-respectable front for Eden's thriving black market. Coop wouldn't blink if Cruz swung in that direction and wasted the next half-hour on small talk and fake shopping.
He wouldn't blink, but he'd know. Cruz had come into the city early because Coop was the only person he fully trusted who wasn't wearing Dallas's ink, and he refused to be too damn cowardly to ask the man his hard questions. "Do you mind going straight to your place? We could catch up before our mutual friend drops in."
"Sure." The old man pulled his tiny handheld tablet from his back pocket and activated the screen. His finger slid quickly over the reactive surface as he wrote out a message. "You promise to stay for lunch?"
"Only if Tammy's cooking. I need all my teeth."
"You getting so fancy you can't choke down burned biscuits?" Coop teased.
Cruz snorted. "I still think you mix them with cement. I burn twice as many calories as they have just trying to chew them."
"Uh-huh." Coop stowed the tablet and squinted up at Cruz. "Liam stopped by the other night."
Masking his renewed tension, Cruz took the left turn that led to Cooper's building. "Liam Riley?"
"The same. He heard you got booted out of the city and wound up over in Four."
God only knew what else he'd heard. Hunger for rumors about the sectors--and the O'Kanes--w
as at an all-time high, thanks to Noelle exchanging her cushy life as a councilman's daughter for life as an enforcer's woman. Most people couldn't get more than a shred of the truth--
But most people weren't Liam Riley. Coop was still studying him with those careful, knowing eyes, so Cruz exhaled roughly. "Did Bren tell you? Last time he was here, I mean?"
Coop snorted. "Bren? Volunteer information?"
"It could happen. Have you met that girl of his yet?"
"I try to hand you a job, and you change the subject?" Silver hair flew as Coop shook his head. "You want to hear Liam's offer or not?"
Offer, not threat. "What does he want?"
"He doesn't much like what's been going down in the sectors. I mean, he trusts O'Kane, obviously, but that only goes so far where the man's daughter is concerned. He's looking to put a little extra security in place. For his own peace of mind, understand?"
Jesus Christ. So much for absolution for his guilt. He'd given in to the need to take, and this was the universe kicking him in the balls over it. "He wants a bodyguard for her? She's not likely to put up with that."
Coop shrugged. "Who says she has to know? He doesn't want a shadow, just an insurance policy. If the shit hits the fan, Rachel's protected."
She already would be--but men like Rachel's father had zero faith in anyone they weren't paying to do a job. Too bad. "I can't take his money, Coop. Rachel and I... It's complicated. And not in any way Riley's going to like."
Coop didn't even have the decency to look surprised by Cruz's confession as he passed the tunnel access and took a left down the alley that led to his building. "Don't be so sure he wouldn't like it. The man lives in abject fear his baby girl's gonna get marked by one of O'Kane's true-blue soldiers. Or is that what you are now?"
Cruz traced his thumb over the leather cuff covering his ink, and for the life of him didn't know how to answer the question. He'd killed for Dallas already. Too blindly, too easily, because that was the only comfort he'd ever known. Obedience was supposed to mean it wasn't your fault.
It had always been bullshit, but now he couldn't pretend anymore. Not when he'd already shifted his allegiance once. "I respect what O'Kane's trying to do. I'm his man, as long as he keeps trying to do it."
"But you still have Eden written all over you, and that matters to Liam," Coop said matter-of-factly as he opened the hidden panel beside the door and keyed in the code to open it. "He busted his ass, you know. Scrounged out a tiny little empire from nothing, and he always thought Rachel was his ticket to taking it legit. Plans change, but expectations die hard."
Cruz frowned as he followed Coop into the narrow hallway. The only way Rachel could have changed her father's fortunes was by marrying someone with power and influence. Someone who had to follow all of Eden's rules on the surface, which meant chilly, sterile perfection. No love, no pleasure, no affection.
He could barely imagine her surviving it, much less enjoying it, but maybe that was love again. Howard could lose his job or his freedom for letting Cruz into the city. Rachel might well have married some cold-blooded bastard and died a little inside every day if it meant protecting the people she loved.
But the people who loved her shouldn't have been willing to let her.
Coop clapped him on the back. "Don't look so down. Rachel's got a good head on her shoulders. She's not gonna fall for the line of shit. She'll go her own way, always has."
Cruz managed a smile. "Sounds like her, yeah."
Grinning, Coop led him into the living room. "No reason we can't win you some points. I'll tell Liam you'd be happy to watch Rachel's back, free of charge."
It had been too long since he'd stood in this room. There was a comfort to it, something almost like home. Sinking down into one of the worn chairs felt like putting down a burden...or at least being able to share it. "You could do that. It'd be true enough."
"Done. And the rest is between you and me."
"The rest." Cruz closed his eyes and leaned his head back. There was no good place to start, because everything felt so raw and fragile. If Coop recoiled from the revelation that his involvement wasn't only with Rachel...
Cruz sighed. "Can I ask you a question? A personal one?"
Coop bent with a grunt to fetch two cold beers from the tiny refrigerator behind his chair. "Shoot."
"Why are you still in Eden? With all the help you've given people, you could live well in the sectors."
"And what, retire?" Coop chortled and passed him a beer. "I've got plenty left to do. And Tammy's here. I'm not sure I could get her to cross the wall with me."
Tammy was young compared to Cooper, Cruz's age or a little older, and as far as he knew, the two were still living the chaste, companionable life of a housekeeper and her employer. But Coop had been sweet on Tammy forever, and as long as she resisted the sectors, there was no power on either side of the wall that would make him abandon her.
Tammy was a believer. Not like the men who ran Eden and mouthed empty words about sin and a God they barely credited. She had faith, both in the rules and in her own unshakable moral code--a code Cruz had violated in half a dozen ways last night between kissing Rachel and jerking Ace off.
At least half a dozen. "She wouldn't like the sectors much, would she?"
"Oh, I don't know. She might, once she got used to it." He tilted his head. "Why?"
Cruz rubbed a hand over his face. "Maybe I'm just...getting used to it. Doing things I never would have expected."
Coop raised his eyebrows as he cracked open his beer. "Waiting on me to judge you for it, is that it?"
"Don't you think someone should?"
"Nope. But I'm starting to think you do." He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "What's really bothering you, Lorenzo?"
Cruz reached for his beer and drained half of it, but it only made him think of the first time he'd kissed Rachel. He'd just won his first fight, and she'd dragged him up to the roof. He'd kissed her with the taste of beer on his tongue and promised himself he'd treat her gently, softly.
Right.
Except he hadn't known what right was. "Do you believe in all the sins they taught us?"
That knowing gaze sharpened. "The sex stuff? Nah, it's bullshit."
"I know the Council doesn't believe it or even live by it, but that doesn't mean--" Cruz clenched his hands. "I crossed the one line you never cross, Coop. And I'm not talking about Rachel."
"What line?"
The line that got men killed. A Special Tasks team could grow as close as the O'Kanes in some ways, but feelings deeper than trust and brotherhood were a distraction and a liability. Fucking your teammates was against the rules, and it went double for your partner. "I fraternized."
Coop paused with his beer halfway to his mouth. "Dangerous game. Makes it hard to do your job."
The proof of his words lay in the tender length of skin over Cruz's ribs. Med-gel wasn't as perfect as regen technology, but the faint scar from last night's lapse in judgment was already fading. Too bad it couldn't take his fear with it--or the memory of those three terrifying seconds when he'd seen a bruiser twice Ace's size coming up behind him with a knife and hadn't paid attention to his own surroundings.
Ace had shot the guy in the face without blinking, and Cruz had barely gotten his head back into the fight in time to avoid a gut wound. "I know."
"What does O'Kane have to say about it?" Coop asked. "It's his army, after all, and he's your CO now."
Cruz choked on a laugh that felt desperate, even to him. "O'Kane's a big fucking fan of fraternization. You have no fucking idea, Coop."
"You got no worries, then." He paused. "Or do you?"
"Not enough of them to stop me, I guess." And those were the truest damn words to come out of his mouth. Appealing to Coop was a last-ditch effort, a desperate attempt to make the man step down hard on him until he could figure out how to put on the brakes.
But there were no brakes on this ride. Just the adrenaline rush and the pl
easure before they skidded off the cliff all three of them could see.
Coop smiled almost wistfully. "When you're as old as me, it's hard to remember what it's like, the first time you open up and really start to feel. Scary. It gets better--or worse. Hell, I don't know. But the world doesn't end, Lorenzo."
"It already did that," Cruz agreed. "I'll manage. I'm living a damn soft life these days, all things considered."
"Mmm." Coop polished off his beer and waved the empty bottle. "You want another?"
The back of his neck itched. Cruz was opening his mouth to mention it when he heard the slight creak of a floorboard followed by the whisper of fabric. He was on his feet in the next heartbeat, reaching for his knife by the time a familiar voice drifted in from the hallway. "Stand down, soldier."
Cruz let his hand drop as Ashwin Malhotra stepped into the doorway. The new head of Special Tasks was only a few inches shorter than Cruz but built like Bren--solid and unmovable. He had dark hair with surprisingly light eyes, along with skin almost the same brown as Cruz's own. But the stern, emotionless expression Cruz often struggled to maintain sat naturally on Ashwin's sharp features.
It should. He was a part of the Makhai Project, the most elite soldiers the Base had ever turned out. The Base had taken Cruz from his crib to train, but they'd taken Ashwin to a lab, where genetic drug therapy and endless surgeries had turned out the perfect emotionless warrior.
He wasn't constrained by feelings like guilt or empathy. Mercy. He cared about logic, his mission, and the personal code of ethics shaped out of the space where the two intersected. The fact that he considered Cruz a friend and ally was useful, but Cruz wasn't stupid enough to imagine things could never change.
Cruz nodded in greeting before sinking back into his chair. "Good to see you, Ashwin."
The man ignored the greeting and offered no pleasantries in return. "I have information for O'Kane."
"All right."
"Some of the bootleg liquor he's been tracking has turned up in the city."
A chill snuck over Cruz. Bootlegging the shit was ballsy enough, but bringing it into the city was dangerous--and not just to the idiots doing it. If Liam Riley decided Dallas was going behind his back and dealing with another distributor, things could get ugly real fast--assuming the move didn't bring Eden's wrath down on Sector Four.