The Maze (ATCOM)

by Jennifer Lowery

  Her eyes widened then darkened as his words sank in. She hadn’t expected this and he could see the anticipation lurking there. She wasn’t going to stop him.

  He lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bed, laid her in the center and started all over, only this time he worked his way up from her toes. When she came again he was in more physical pain than he had ever known. If he didn’t have her soon he was going to explode. But still he waited. He would withstand this until all of her defenses were down and she belonged to him. He was a very patient man.

  * * * *

  Attie was in heaven. Noah Kincaid made love like he did everything else in life: thoroughly and with total control. He put everything into it and demanded the same from her. He kissed her scars. That simple act touched her heart where she wasn’t prepared for it to be touched.

  Somewhere along the line, Noah had slipped past her defenses and imbedded himself deep inside her where no one was supposed to be. That place had kept Carlos from breaking her during those months she spent undercover and in his prison. And now with a few simple, selfless acts and kind words Noah had found it and dug in so deep she was afraid he’d be there forever.

  She lay in the center of the bed quivering and sated from what he’d just done to her a second time that night, without finding pleasure himself. He gave, but he took nothing. Never had a man focused so much attention on her. It made her uncomfortable at the same time she craved the attention. He made her feel cherished and desirable.

  She knew she would get nothing but brutal honesty from Noah, and was flattered that he enjoyed making love to her. He didn’t care that she was scarred. That only imbedded him deeper. He wasn’t doing this because he felt sorry for her; he wanted to do it and had proven it twice now. Elation and relief filled a void inside her. Suddenly she wanted him to share in the pleasure.

  “Again?” Noah asked with a wolfish grin from where he rested beside her.

  “Not me. You,” she said slipping a leg over his and rising to her knees beside him. “On your back, sailor.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He complied and rolled onto his back so that he was hers to do with whatever she pleased. She allowed herself the luxury of studying his perfect male form for a minute, taking in his long length, muscular contours and male solidness. She’d been so long without a man she’d forgotten what it was like to just sit back and enjoy the beauty of a male. Noah was perfect. Battle-scarred and strong. Heavily muscled and virile. She wanted to touch every inch of him to familiarize herself with the way he felt.

  Moving on top of him so that she straddled his hips, she leaned down and traced his bottom lip with her tongue, marveling in its fullness. He had nice lips, sensual and sculpted. And he knew how to use them, she could attest to that. She sucked his lip into her mouth and let go to lave it with her tongue. He grinned and she smiled in return. She couldn’t remember ever having this much fun while making love. She certainly had never taken it so slow and found it very stimulating.

  She kissed him, not allowing him to take control. When he tried to grab her hips, she bit his lip and pushed his hands into the mattress with a shake of her head. Frustration flared in his eyes but he obeyed, fisting his hands at his sides. Attie smiled and planted tiny kisses on the pulse throbbing steadily in his neck. She nibbled the cords running to his collarbone and again he tried to take control.

  She guided his hands above his head and wrapped his fingers around the bedpost. “Stay,” she ordered and lowered herself to his chest, scooting down and bringing them into perfect position. He surged toward her but she evaded and shook her head as she drew a nipple into her mouth. Noah groaned and shook the bed with his hands that didn’t leave their position on the bedposts.

  Attie felt herself getting ready for him, his show of male frustration almost her undoing. She tasted his need and sensed his power as she made her way to the other nipple and then down his rippled abs. Unleashed power lurked below the surface and she was getting wet thinking about him unleashing that power inside her.

  Anticipation and excitement built until she thought she’d explode if she didn’t have him inside her soon, but she exercised restraint and moved lower. She sensed his rising need and received pleasure from knowing that he wanted her with a passion equal to hers. Looking up at him she found him staring down at her with a fire in his eyes that made her heart trip. He looked hungry as a wolf ready to devour her.

  “Don’t,” she cautioned, wrapping her hand around him. He bucked but didn’t reach for her. His control was ruthless.

  Attie liked having the unmovable Rock on the brink. She wanted him to lose control, just once.

  She took him into her mouth and she came close to her goal. He let out a growl of satisfaction and frustration as she tasted and explored. His groan, low and guttural, urged her on as she took him deeper into her mouth. She loved the taste and feel of him and wanted more—

  Noah lurched upward and in one swift move had her pinned beneath him, his mouth crushing hers as his knee parted her legs.

  Smiling against his mouth, she responded with equal fervor. She knew exactly how he felt because she wanted him just as badly.

  He pressed into her and she arched her hips to urge him inside but he stilled and lifted his mouth from hers to stare down into her eyes.

  Frowning, Attie reached up and touched his cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “Now is the time to stop this if it isn’t what you want, Attie,” he ground out as perspiration beaded his upper lip. He had almost lost control, but true to form he’d quickly overcome and reined it in like a pro. Attie felt a tug of disappointment that he hadn’t crossed that line for her but her need for him quickly took over and made her arch into him. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and forced him inside her, but still he held back.

  “Are you sure?”

  Moving her hips in an erotic circle that made him smother a groan and caused more beads of perspiration to pop out, she said, “Make love to me, Noah. Now.”

  So he did. He let out a low growl of satisfaction and surged into her. She took him in and cried out as he filled her. Together they set a rhythm that quickly built to a feverish pitch. Attie had never felt like this before, never wanted like this before. He drove her toward the edge with finesse and grace that took her breath away.

  When she could take no more, she cried out his name and rode the storm he had created. He waited for her, holding onto that precious control until she found fulfillment, then let himself go. He thrust deep inside, growled in pleasure as he found his own release. It was the most erotic sound and experience she’d ever had. They rode the wave together until both collapsed, exhausted on the bed. Noah supported himself on his elbows so he didn’t crush her, his forehead tucked into her neck. He was breathing hard and fast, as was she.

  And they were both smiling.

  When he rolled onto his back and tucked her into his side, she didn’t argue. There was no tension between them, no anger and no past. Attie laid a hand on his chest, closed her eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.

  This time she didn’t have any nightmares.

  * * * *

  Noah stared at the painting on the wall across from the bed. Something funny about it… A disguise for a camera. He could see it now, but he had missed it last night when Attie had him distracted. He shouldn’t have missed it. Now Santiago may have him and Attie’s lovemaking on video. That didn’t set well at all.

  What they had done was personal and private, not to be shared, and a hell of a lot more intimate than he cared to admit. The last thing he wanted was for Santiago to have evidence of that. Given the man’s need for power and control, Noah was certain he had taped them and would use it to his advantage later. Another reason to get rid of the bastard.

  Noah glanced down at Attie. Making love to her had stirred up emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with. She had burrowed under his skin and planted herself firmly inside his heart. She’d made him promise to let her go
after this was over and he would do it, despite his feelings for her. How the hell he was going to do it, he had no idea.

  Attie sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer. Her lips brushed his neck. Noah groaned inwardly. If that camera wasn’t there, he’d wake her up slowly and make love to her again.

  Gently he rolled her off him, slipped from bed and walked over to the painting. With a simple, silent strike he disabled the camera and returned to bed. Maybe he would wake her up after all…

  Attie flopped onto her back, restless in sleep now, let out a grimace and flopped onto her side in effort to get comfortable.

  Or maybe not.

  Noah climbed in beside her and pulled her into his arms. She instantly curled into him and went still. In sleep she trusted him. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She sighed softly. He skimmed a hand down her hip, exploring her softness. With his fingertips he traced a scar on her outer thigh, trying to imagine what had put it there. There was another a little lower. He slid his hand over it, scowling. The bastard was never going to mark her again. Noah would die before he let that happen.

  Attie rolled onto her stomach with a moan, exposing her delectable backside. She turned her head away from him and settled against him.

  Propping on an elbow, Noah reached out and traced the small thin scars that peppered her spinal cord. They were only a few inches long, but numerous. At one time they had been open, angry wounds that must have hurt like hell. They hadn’t required stitches since they weren’t very deep, but the pain must have been horrendous.

  His chest tightened painfully as he traced each one with his fingers, wishing he could erase the pain that was associated with them. He had given Attie his word that he wouldn’t ask her about the marks. He would hold to it, but damn if he didn’t want to know what had put them there. He wanted to know everything Santiago had done to her.

  “Tell me what he did to you, Attie,” he whispered.

  Chapter 18

  “Homemade flogging device.”

  Her voice was soft, husky with sleep.

  “Leather?” he asked, not wanting to push but needing to know if she was willing to tell him.

  “Yes, short, thin strips but plenty of them. He had to stand very close in order to reach me. Not a problem with my fractured leg. I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  Noah guessed she’d probably tried. His jaw clenched. He wanted to know, but the truth tore him up inside.

  “Dammit, if only I’d known…”

  “No. I didn’t want anyone to know. This isn’t about you, Kincaid. It wasn’t then and it isn’t now.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said quietly, his fingers still tracing the scars. “I could have protected you.”

  “How? By aborting my mission sooner? It was bound to happen. Carlos was getting suspicious already. I could have held out until I had all the evidence. I was so close…”

  “At what cost? Huh? Look what he did to you in those couple days. I don’t even know what he did to you in the months before that. Goddammit, you never should have gone in.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

  “You shouldn’t have lost faith in me,” she retorted angrily.

  He sighed and bent over to press his lips to her skin, running his tongue up her spinal cord. He didn’t want to argue with her. He wanted—needed—to know everything. “Tell me the rest,” he said softly.

  She stiffened and he thought she wasn’t going to tell him. After a moment she spoke. Quietly. Remembering.

  “He tortured me long before he put me in that cell. He used to give me gifts. Expensive, extravagant, ridiculous gifts. Jewelry, gowns, spa days in the city. But there were always strings attached to his gifts. He used them to keep me in line. I had a part to play and nothing but perfect would work for Carlos. So, I did and he punished me when I didn’t.”

  Noah’s gut tightened. He’d wanted to hear this. He hated that she had to tell it. Stretching out beside her, he waited for her to continue, dreading what was coming.

  “My first night on the estate he gave me a necklace.” She paused, lost in the memory.

  Noah feathered a hand down her back, soothing the tension there.

  “He used it to choke me,” she continued with a short, harsh laugh. “Caught me completely off guard. I wanted to strike out. Almost did. But caught myself at the last minute and sat there, watching in the mirror of my vanity as he choked me with a diamond necklace.”

  Her training taught her to defend herself. Yet, as an undercover operative she was helpless. Just as he was now.

  “He was upset because he thought I’d been flirting with Antonio—the man who we couldn’t dig up any identity on.”

  Noah remembered Rogan’s frustration at not finding any information on the man. He was a ghost.

  The only ghosts Noah was aware of were mercenaries.

  “Carlos was paranoid. Possessive. He never took me to his bed, yet he acted like we were lovers. He didn’t want me. He wanted to possess me. Mark me as his. Carlos didn’t keep things. He kept possessions. Everything was a show, an act. I wasn’t the only one playing a part.” She paused, shifted so he could gently massage the muscles in her neck. “He would come into my room at night sometimes, just to torment me. Sometimes he would stand over my bed and not speak. Just stand there watching me. Other times he would drag me out and…punish me for something I’d done that day.”

  It took every ounce of Noah’s strength to remain calm. For Attie, he did, but inside he raged.

  “He never left marks where anyone could see them. He never hurt me badly, just asserted his control over me. It was more torment than torture.”

  He was going to kill the bastard with his bare hands. His palms itched to feel Santiago’s flesh beneath them.

  “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  She shouldn’t have had to handle it at all.

  Noah pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “You did good,” he said softly.

  His words deflated her and she sank into the sheets. He lifted up on an elbow and looked down to see her shoulders shaking. A second later he heard her breath hitch.

  “Ah, hell,” he murmured and rolled her so he could gather her into his arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes glistening when she looked at him. Brendan had told him she’d refused to cry after her return. Never shed a tear over what happened. Never purged those demons. She was too strong, too stubborn to give in to such weakness. She needed to do this.

  With a sob, she wrapped herself around him, climbing onto his lap and crying into his shoulder as if the weight of the world rested on hers. Noah’s chest tightened, feeling her pain. She’d gone through hell and no one knew. She hadn’t shared her pain with anyone. Kept it locked inside. His strong, stubborn crusader.

  More tears came and Noah did the only thing he could. He held her. Offered comfort where she would let him. He buried his own emotions, putting them away until he was free to deal with them. Carlos Santiago had done this and the man would pay. Before this was over, the drug lord would know what he’d done to Attie and be on his knees begging for his miserable, sadistic life.

  When she fell into an exhausted sleep, he lay down with her, continuing to hold her and ward off her nightmares.

  * * * *

  Attie lay on her stomach as Noah rubbed her back. In the darkness he spoke quietly.

  “I didn’t lose faith in you. Never that. You’re one of the best damn agents we have. I acted on instinct and I’m glad for it. I knew. Somehow, I knew there was more going on than what you were telling me. I was responsible for you—as an undercover agent. I didn’t send Seth in to undermine you. I knew you could do the job. I would never jeopardize any of my agents and I would have sent Seth in for any one of them if I felt the need. The past is the past. You have to let it go. You did everything you could to save Seth. You have to forgive yourself. We both do,” he added, wondering how the hell he was going to get past what she’d just told hi
m.

  A soft moan slipped from her lips. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I still hear him.”

  He resumed his exploration of her back, feeling her moving sensuously under his touch. “What do you mean you hear him?”

  “He whispers to me in my nightmares, the same as he did in my cell.”

  Noah frowned and nibbled the back of her neck. Goose bumps erupted down her arms and back and she moaned.

  “I hear him but I can’t understand him. He’s trying to tell me something and I can’t hear it. I tried to get to him but I hurt so bad I couldn’t move. I tried to follow his whispers and get to his cell but I just…”

  “You know Santiago killed Seth early in your captivity. You have to forgive yourself.”

  “That’s what I’m told, but it can’t be. I heard him.”

  Seth had been her lifeline. Regardless if she heard him whispering in her head or not, she believed he was alive in that cell and given her stubborn nature she would do whatever it took to get to him. Though Seth had been killed, he had saved Attie’s life. The whispers she heard now were probably the result of her surviving the trauma and the guilt she felt over Seth’s death. Once she dealt with the past, maybe they would go away.

  Not only would she have to face the past, she would have to deal with the present because Santiago was giving her a whole new set of nightmares to handle. Except this time she had Noah to help her through it.

  “I survived,” she said in a broken whisper. “Seth didn’t.”

  Noah’s heart contracted. He trailed kisses down each bump in her spinal cord while his hands caressed and soothed.

  “Yes, you survived, and I think Seth would want you to move on with your life.”

  Attie rolled beneath him, her eyes flashing. She trapped him with her legs around his thighs and clamped down tight. His words had struck a cord but she didn’t want to listen. He knew what she was doing and he’d oblige her. She wasn’t ready to hear about what she should do to heal so he’d let her distract him. The road to healing would be a long one and she was well on her way, even if she didn’t want to admit it.