Paired Objective: Matched Desire, Book 2

by Clare Murray

  Cam rolled his eyes at his brother. “Language.”

  “All right, teacher’s pet.”

  “Hey, I got up to my share of trouble.” Cam raised his hand in a farewell to Katya, climbing into the back of the van as Russ indicated he would drive. “I was smart about it, though. A kid saying fudge instead of fuck gets more leeway than a potty-mouthed brat. ’Scuse my French.”

  Abby snorted, settling in next to him. She tried to bat his hand away as he buckled a seat belt around her, but he persisted until the strap was snug over her thighs and the shoulder belt nestled between her breasts.

  “So how much trouble did you get into?” she asked.

  “He did most of it,” Cam said, indicating Russ.

  “That’s a bald-faced lie. Ask him about the time he convinced our math teacher the windows weren’t allowed to be closed in winter because Twins needed ventilation at all times.”

  Cam grinned, recalling the poor man’s red cheeks. The ruse had lasted nearly a week before someone else had come in and busted them. It had made algebra kind of fun for a while.

  “It’s kind of strange to think you guys played pranks,” Abby said. “You’re so…forbidding. Did you ever get punished?”

  The mirth died away. Cam stared through the rear mirror as his brother reversed, watching the first of the chain-link gates open as they were waved out. Discipline had been—and still was—a sensitive topic. Some Twins had strict foster-parents. Others were raised more leniently, treated similarly to human children and teenagers.

  He and Russ had been lucky. Their foster-parents had raised them with their own biological children. Cam remembered the household as busy yet welcoming, and it had been a true home until they’d gone to stay in the Complex dormitories.

  Even then, his foster-mother, a scientist, had been able to visit them almost every day. Their foster-father wasn’t a scientist and had done manual labor outside the Complex, but he’d taken pains to come see them several times a week.

  Compared to other Twins, it had been a good upbringing.

  “No, they took things in their stride,” Cam finally said. Discipline for some had been fairly harsh, consisting of extra exercise and detention for small infractions. There was solitary confinement for those who kept flouting the rules.

  A little counseling would have gone a long way, but the government didn’t see those involved in the Multiple Project as being entirely human. That rankled even moderates like Cam. For the more hardline Twins—those who favored separatism—the attitude served as a continual spur for their dissatisfaction.

  Abby shifted against him so that she could see through the windshield ahead. Her eyes were anxious, skittering from the road to the unzipped bag containing the commtabs she’d taken from Headquarters. Russ had the compromised one up front. Cam frowned as he noticed the blinking on its screen.

  “Pause a moment to take a look at that, will you?” he sent.

  Russ lingered at the next chain-link gate, surreptitiously palming the commtab. “It’s Senator Green,” he sent. “Wrote some bluster about how we know where you are, we’re coming for you. In all caps, of course.”

  “Does he know Abby wrecked the control room, or does he think it’s us?”

  “I’ll fish a little bit, but I suspect they have footage of her going into the room.” Russ tapped at the commtab’s foldout keyboard, rolling the van forward as the guard opened the gate.

  The device flashed again, so subtly he knew Abby wouldn’t note it. Russ put it back on the dash. “The bastard calls her by name. Says he’s going to fuck that pretty pussy hard when he sees her again.”

  “Like hell he will.” Cam only barely formed the words rationally in his head. Theirs. Abby was theirs. Whether it was pheromones or simple animal attraction, there was no question about it—she belonged to them.

  Problem was, the Shadow Feds were comprised of powerful men, and there was no doubt in his head that they could—and would—track Abby until they found her.

  * * * * *

  Abby wriggled politely against Cam’s arm. He was holding her as if she might evaporate before his eyes, fingers digging into her forearms as he kept her tight against his side. She could tell he was communicating with his brother because of the slight distance in his eyes. Whatever they were talking about obviously made his emotions run high.

  Strange that she could read them so well after only a few days in their company, but stress tended to make her more observant. She wished she could study them without interruption, find the details that marked each man. As far as she could tell, there were no major physical differences between them.

  In terms of personality, however…

  Russ seemed to be the more alpha of the two, but only barely. Around her, he came across as hesitant in comparison to Cam. As if he had less experience with women. That didn’t make sense, though. Didn’t they always share women? Wouldn’t it be awkward otherwise?

  In any case, he certainly hadn’t stayed hesitant. Abby’s toes curled, both from embarrassment and remembered pleasure. She hadn’t expected Cam to go down on her, nor could she have anticipated being so eager to suck off Russ. Having both at the same time was incredibly sexy.

  God, I’ve never done anything like that in my life. What would people say if they knew?

  Then again, what business was it of theirs? Besides, it wasn’t as if a relationship with two men was intrinsically wrong. Certainly it didn’t hurt anybody, unless you counted depriving someone else of a good man as hurtful. Abby almost cracked a smile at that.

  Anyhow, the days of nosy neighbors were over—mostly. People had enough on their plates just trying to survive.

  “Breakfast time. You must be hungry,” Cam announced, relinquishing hold of her arm. Her stomach growled at the mention of food, and he flashed her that roguish grin of his, as if to say See? I was right.

  She stuck her tongue out in response. When he pressed a sandwich into her hands, though, she tucked in without protest. After years of scavenging, it no longer felt strange to eat nontraditional food for breakfast. In the beginning, they’d tried for some semblance of normality. Now Abby would gladly eat salad for breakfast and porridge for supper, if that was all they had at hand.

  The more enterprising, it was whispered, had stooped to eating alien flesh.

  Abby held back a shudder at the thought. She’d overheard the rumor being discussed between three senators, all of whom had ignored her presence while she mopped the floor nearby. They’d made the obligatory must taste like chicken jokes, laughing from their safe, secure positions as powerful people. Most likely they’d never known the hunger that drove people to eat anything they could get their hands on.

  Still, Abby was deeply repulsed by the idea of coming close to an alien. She’d comforted herself with the knowledge that there were a ton of crazy rumors floating around out there these days. It wasn’t easy to fact-check with Internet access being so extremely spotty—nonexistent in many cases, depending on satellite access—and the world was a big place. That Grammie had gotten the message Abby smuggled out of Headquarters was a small miracle.

  Finishing her sandwich, she took a sip of water from one of the bottles at her feet. Hopefully, wherever they were going had running water. She caught sight of the commtab on the dashboard and shivered in horror.

  “Why is that still on?” she snapped.

  Russ spoke while keeping his gaze on the road. “I want them to keep tracking it. We’ll dump it before we go through the gates, let them have a nice wild-goose chase.”

  “Let’s do it now.” Abby turned from side to side, straining against the seat belt. The thought of the senators tracking her made her want to throw the device out the window immediately. She tried to calm down, but all she could think about was Senator Green and his threats.

  The Shadow Feds had access to planes, didn’t they? Fast car
s too. If the commtab had been switched on last night, they could have been en route for hours…

  “Abby, look at me.”

  Cam’s hands framed her face, drawing her attention to him—only to him. She gulped in a deep breath, trying to make him understand. “We have to get that thing out of here. We have to. If they find us…”

  “We’ll fight them,” Cam promised. “But they won’t find us. They like to talk big, but they lack follow-through. In most cases.”

  The latter was added as a kind of afterthought, but Abby zeroed in on it. “Most cases?”

  “There was an incident a few weeks ago involving a traitor from the Complex who was working for the Shadow Feds,” Russ said from the driver’s seat. “His name was Dr. Felix Felton.”

  Cam must have caught the flare of recognition in her eyes. “You know him?”

  “I…saw him around, yes. He left for another state a few weeks ago.” The man had been thoroughly creepy. Yet another reason to get the commtab the hell out of the van.

  “So the bastard is with them,” Russ muttered.

  “Quelle surprise,” Cam said, letting his hands drop from her face. His fingers stole a caress along her cheek.

  “You speak French?” she blurted. Her mind sought distraction from the danger at hand. Besides, French was a major turn-on for her. She’d always dreamed of going to Paris to sit in one of the iconic cafes, sipping coffee and holding the hand of the man she loved. Abby always pictured Callum in that role.

  After he’d died, she’d quit having such fantasies.

  “Our focus was on French, Spanish, and Italian,” Cam replied. “Parlez-vous Francais, Abby?”

  “Only the basics, with some swearing thrown in.” She couldn’t help but react to him. His body canted toward her as if in an attempt to cocoon her from the outside world. He wasn’t in physical contact with her but his arm was thrown across the back of her seat, and he was so close she could feel the heat of his body, smell traces of the shampoo he’d used at Uther’s compound.

  Katya’s compound now. She was glad of the thought, and mildly amused at the thought of the aliens provoking something good for once.

  “Here.” Russ brought the van to a halt adjacent to the entryway of an alley. A gust of wind sent ancient trash swirling futilely against the brick walls. With barely a pause, Russ grabbed the commtab and sprang from his seat.

  Next to her, Cam unbuckled his seat belt, hand on the door, watching his brother’s back. Although she sensed they had it covered, Abby kept watch from the opposite window. Nobody was out and about at this early hour—not here, at least. Pre-Invasion, it would have been rush hour, with most people on their way to work or school. Now people often slept in, having been up much of the night guarding the walls.

  She wondered how long it would take for human circadian rhythms to evolve in response to a more nocturnal way of living.

  “All set.” Russ hopped into the van. “I put it under a board inside that deserted house. That’ll be a fun little treasure hunt for them.”

  As soon as they started driving, Abby relaxed into her seat, limp with relief. Cam registered the movement, stroking her shoulder in a quick, comforting gesture. She knew they weren’t out of the metaphorical woods yet—there was a long drive yet to Chicago, and many roads were in bad condition—but the Shadow Feds being off their tail made her feel a lot better.

  They wouldn’t recognize this van either. Now that the Twins had dumped the traced commtab, maybe they could just head straight for Chicago. That thought sent relief washing over her, so intense it nearly made her wilt.

  Thank all that was holy the Twins found her in the wrecked control room. If she’d left a few minutes earlier, she might never have known where Grammie had fled now that Scar City had fallen. She’d probably still have the chain between her ankles too.

  Abby stared at the road ahead, pondering what-ifs and might-have-beens until she registered Cam’s arm wrapping around her shoulders, applying just enough pressure to coax her to lean into him. She capitulated, glad of the comfort.

  Were it anybody else, Abby would have been content to stay quietly put, nestling against a friendly shoulder. But she was restless around both of these particular men, wanting their touch, wanting more. Now that the immediate threat of pursuit was gone, her mind craved distraction. And her body craved physical contact. Sexual contact.

  How far could she push Cam before he responded? How far could she take it before Russ joined in?

  Casually, as if by accident, she rested her hand on Cam’s thigh, making sure the side of her hand brushed against his crotch. His cock immediately stirred, but she pretended she didn’t feel it, leaning closer as if merely shifting position. Because she was listening carefully, she caught the slight intake of his breath. He didn’t respond, though, keeping his arm wrapped lightly around her.

  By now, Russ was through the City gates and past the cadre of soldiers who guarded it. They waved him on after a brief visual check, which left them with a clear road ahead. Any traffic came from the opposite direction. People were fleeing to the safety of the walls after last night’s drama.

  “I’m going to put the solar panel up to offset the battery drain,” Russ said, flicking a switch. “That should let us eke out a few extra miles.”

  Pretending interest, Abby wriggled in Cam’s arms. That let her brush against his burgeoning erection. “How many extra miles?”

  “Anywhere from five to thirty, depending on sun coverage.” Russ met her eyes in the rearview mirror. Was he aroused too? Twins apparently felt whatever was happening to their brother. Not as strongly, but she’d heard it described as ghost sensations one day, while listening to Slater and Arden chatting in the small patio garden.

  Subtlety wasn’t working. Abby managed to wait until they’d put a few miles between them and the City before allowing herself to employ more blatant measures. This time she feigned sleepiness, angling herself so that the curve of her breast rested against Cam’s palm. Her head rested on his shoulder, which cushioned the bumps in the road. He was so comfortable, it made her want to burrow into arms and never emerge.

  When he moved his thumb, grazing her nipple, it was all she could do not to gasp. After months of deprivation, of being too frightened for arousal, it was as if her body was trying to make up for lost time. This time, she wanted to go all the way. There was no sense waiting. Who knew what lay around the corner?

  “How long until we get…to wherever we’re going?” she asked.

  “There’s a safe house in about fifty miles,” Russ said. “It’s actually a former nuclear shelter, location known only to the government. We’ll be safe tonight. It’s a straight run to Chicago from there too. If necessary, we can call for air pickup.”

  “All right.” The fact that they’d taken control of her safety gave her a heady little rush. That was another facet to her lust—this likely wouldn’t last. Once she got to Chicago, she’d have to wrest that control back, find a job to support Grammie. The elderly woman wouldn’t be suited to a scavenging life, so they’d have to find somewhere to settle down…

  No. Not now. Abby pushed thoughts of the future away. She wanted to live in the moment.

  The road ahead remained clear, although they had to limit their speed to thirty since the asphalt was battered and worn. At least the major potholes had been mended, if crudely. She guessed people must try to maintain the thoroughfare as best they could for trading and traveling purposes.

  Her hand still rested in Cam’s lap, but the man hadn’t responded except for that brief caress across her breast. So Abby used her thumb to trace a line up his cock, keeping the touch light, exploratory, even when he twitched against her. Because she couldn’t see his face the way she was sitting, she wasn’t able to tell how he was receiving this. But he didn’t push her away, even if he wasn’t reciprocating.

  She reached the
head and drew a line back down to his balls, cupping them as best she could through the stiff fabric of his jeans. Back up again, just enough to tug at his zipper. He made no move to stop her as she pulled it down, so slowly that the click of each individual metal tooth was softly audible.

  She didn’t reach inside right away, choosing instead to toy with the fabric of his boxers. It was a delicate balance, preserving this hushed anticipation while taking care not to let her growing yearning slip away. She wished she could see his expression. Was he passive because he wanted her to stop, or was he enjoying her taking the lead?

  Russ still drove in silence, only the back of his head visible. She had a sudden, wild thought of luring him into the rear of the van. Twins were connected—but how closely? Would he be aware of what she was doing to his brother, or would it take further incitement to draw him in?

  Wanting to push her boundaries, Abby kept stroking Cam. Delicately, she freed his cock from the boxers. She’d given him ample time to stop her, but he hadn’t moved. Her hand closed around his shaft, sliding upward before stopping provocatively at the sensitive spot underneath the head.

  Only then did Cam act, closing his hand around her breast and sliding his thumb back across her nipple. She watched his hand, eyes glazing briefly. She was in a headspace where the slightest movement made her clench, aching and wanting more. When Cam’s hand traced its way down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, her soft gasp rose above the noise of the engine. She slid her hand off his warm skin to unbuckle the seat belt, earning her a warning grunt from Cam.

  At that, she finally sat up to look at him, giving him her best mischievous grin. He narrowed his eyes in reply. “It’s dangerous to ride unbuckled, Abby.”

  She marveled at the way his voice was even, unperturbed. Her own words were half-breath when she managed to get them out. “We won’t crash. You’d catch me if we did, anyway.”

  “Don’t ascribe too much superpower to us.” Cam softened his words by pulling her half on his lap. “I’ve already held out longer than any man ought to be able to.”