Unstoppable

by Long, Heather

  “Yes, Drake. I’m sure. I ache for you, and I want to be with you.” She punctuated every word with a kiss. Lifting her easily, he pivoted and exited the communication room. “I do object to that wooden table though.” The playfulness of her comment added a lightness to his steps.

  “I don’t sleep in here,” he assured her, and wove his way past the barracks and table to a door on the far side. Beyond the antechamber, he shouldered open the private room he’d added for himself. “We all built safe houses over the years. Some in the city, some outside of it.”

  With her arms still wrapped around his neck, he balanced her with one hand then keyed in a code to open a secondary door. The pneumatic locks freed and a metal door slid back to reveal his private rooms.

  “Dude, you have been holding out on me.” The awe tinged with a hint of outrage pulled a smile from him.

  “I don’t use this place often, unless we’re going dark for a while.” They’d all used the barracks room for a time when they’d first come back, but as the others ranged out—Drake preferred to stay closer to home, so he’d added these rooms. They were constructed inside shipping containers, reinforced to withstand a tank hit. Sealing them inside, he coded the lock and carried her through the makeshift sitting room to the bed that marked his single indulgence.

  After setting her down on the rich green comforter, he waited, almost eager to enjoy her response. Joss didn’t disappoint. Running her fingers over the fabric, she smiled then hooked her legs around his thighs. “Green is your favorite color, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, drinking in the way she stared at him—the quiet wonder twined with encouragement. The constant contact she maintained grounded him, reminded him where he was and why he was there. Tugging his shirt over his head, he tossed it away, then reached for the button on his cargo pants as he toed off his boots.

  Biting her lower lip, Joss leaned back on her elbows. A possessive and intrigued gleam shimmered in her eyes. Once naked, he stood still and let her inspect him. The gold tattoo on his face stretched along his neck to his chest. The gold gleamed against his dark skin.

  “You’re a beautiful man.” She whispered the verbal caress, and his cock stiffened further, if it were possible.

  Running his hand over her leg, he marveled at the simplicity of touching her. He didn’t come by it as naturally as some. His training told him to keep his distance while the rest of him hungered for her nearness.

  When she reached for her shirt and stripped it off, he stilled. Inch by glorious inch, she revealed her magnificently deep brown skin. What he had thought of as sun kissed was so much richer and deeper than henna. As she eased out of her jeans, the air seemed to back up into his lungs. Toned, fit muscle accented her every curve, and dipped shaping the concave of her abdomen into a sweet six-pack.

  “You’re…amazing.” The word hardly did her justice.

  “Am I?” She pursed her lips, then tossed her pants toward the floor before curving her leg around his and holding a hand out to him, beckoning him to her. A servant to her whims, he followed her obediently, paying great care to where he placed his hands and making sure he supported his weight as he dipped his head in for a kiss.

  “Yes,” he murmured against her lips. “Say my name.” It was both a request and an order.

  The corners of her mouth curved, and her lashes dipped as she dropped her gaze to his chest. “Drake.” Yes, he did like how she said his name.

  “I’m not a romantic man by nature.” He braced his weight on one hand, then cupped her breast gently. The soft weight of it, the shape, and the puckering nipple drew him. “You can’t hurt me, but I might hurt you, so you must control everything.” Giving her the right to call the shots came naturally to him. “The last thing I want to do is cause you harm.”

  “How strong are you?” She stroked her hands along his biceps, a petting motion that calmed his worry while stoking his passion.

  “I haven’t tested it in a long time,” he admitted, then glided his thumb over her nipple. It stiffened so brilliantly beneath contact. She released a sharp gasp and he stilled. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Not hardly,” she said, then gave his arm a squeeze. “It felt good.”

  Relief poured through him. “I want to be careful of you.”

  “I trust you,” she admitted, arching upward and cupping the back of his head to drag him back in for a kiss. The sampling of her lips earlier couldn’t compare with the hungry collision as she stole his breath and his heart. As sweet as her kiss tasted, he wanted more. Her trust warmed him, and loosened the shackles tyranny imprinted into his very flesh. She stroked her fingertips over his tattoo, tracing a path from his cheek to his neck, then to his shoulder and along his chest. A trail of fire seemed to follow her touch.

  She mastered him with a single touch. Taking his lead from her, he kissed his own way along her jaw, to her throat, then down to take one of her stiff, pretty nipples against his teeth. Her swift inhale told him he’d caught her off guard. He laved at the nipple then bit it, just hard enough to make it sting. When he glanced upward, she met his gaze.

  “Still trust you.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” It wasn’t about false modesty or guilt. He’d done very little to deserve the refreshing openness she showed him.

  With her knee bent, she gripped his hip with her thigh and heat kissed his cock where it rested against her. The sensation a devastation to his control. “Why don’t you let me decide who deserves my trust, hmm?”

  His muscles went rigid, and he could barely move for the light she shone into the dark places of his soul. The trip through time had been a mission, one he willingly followed Michael on as he would follow him into hell. All he’d ever hoped to find on the journey had been a death in service to those he’d guided to their deaths by preventing the events altogether.

  “Drake,” Joss said, cradling his face. “Stop thinking, big guy. I’m right here.”

  How right she was. She was there, in his arms—his redemption.

  “I think I love you, Joss.” The future could be perilous, and people didn’t always have a tomorrow. She should know. Such a simple declaration and then he met her kiss as he coveted the feeling of her warm hands on his skin.

  He considered himself a blessed man. He wanted her to know just how much he wanted her. His cock was still rock hard, but he wasn’t quite ready to give into his greed. First, he wanted to enjoy the feeling of her, the taut muscles beneath his hand and the silky skin. Kissing, touching, nipping and biting, he explored her body as she teased his. The lightest scrape of her teeth against his throat, and then he returned to her magnificent breasts.

  With every touch of his lips to her nipples, she rewarded him with a gasp. Sliding down the bed, he pressed a kiss to her abdomen before gliding a finger along her damp labia. The sweet musk of her arousal filled his lungs and he wanted to taste…

  Continuing his descent, he kept her off balance. When she bucked her hips, he held them still. Her thighs glistened with the moisture and he nudged them further apart until she splayed open for him. At her hard inhale, he knew she expected another kiss and, damn if he didn’t want to give it to her—but not when she expected. Instead, he bit down on the inside of her thigh and she let out a low cry. He could taste her on her skin and drawing back, he watched as her pussy clenched with need.

  “You’re killing me,” she said through gritted teeth and Drake laughed.

  “Never,” he swore. “I’m having fun.”

  She rose on her elbows and looked at him.

  “Drake?”

  “Yes, my darling, Joss?”

  “Will you please fuck me?”

  Because he couldn’t resist, he drew a finger through the damp folds from her entrance to her swollen, pleading clit. “I would very much like to fuck you.”

  Her low, insistent sounds turned into a closed mouth scream and he pressed one last kiss, laving at her sweetness until her thighs went taut, and she trembled right o
n the edge of an orgasm.

  His own need was a raging fever in his bloodstream, and his balls were so tight he might be risking injury, but he was far from done with both of them. Rising to his knees he beckoned her upward with a crook of his finger. “The condoms are in the drawer next to the bed.”

  Eagerness flashed in the dark neediness of her pupils and she stretched over to pull the drawer open. The action elongated her and gave him a premium view of her ass. His cock thumped against his stomach, as hard, tense and eager for her as he was.

  “Someday,” she murmured as she tore off the foil around the condom. “We need to spend a few hours testing how strong you are with me sucking on your cock.”

  He damn near crossed his eyes at the notion, then she rolled the condom onto him. The muscles in his thighs clenched, and he fought for control before he reached for her again. No matter how much he wanted her, he couldn’t risk harming her.

  “It’s okay, Drake,” she murmured. She teased her fingertips over his clenched fists and he relaxed. “I’ll catch you.”

  Even his control had its limits and sweat slid down his spine from keeping himself still for her. Swooping in, he lifted her and rolled onto his back, setting her atop him. Balancing her above him, he met her gaze, and she seemed to understand. With one hand, she caught his cock in a gentle grip before easing herself down and guiding him into the warm grasp of her body.

  Throwing her head back, Joss released a deep groan and he echoed the sentiment. Seated within her, he saw stars. A part of him was content to simply be this close to her, then she began to move in a slow, languorous ride that threatened his sanity. With her hands splayed on his chest, she controlled the pace and Drake kept his hands on her hips to balance her, focused on enjoying the vision she made above him.

  “I saw a picture of a goddess once,” he whispered, his breathing growing more ragged.

  “Oh?” She halted with the tip of his cock barely inside of her. Arch challenge lay in the single syllable.

  “You’re so much more…you’re Inanna, goddess of war and life. Perfection.”

  Chuckling, Joss sank down on him and he had to release her and grip the bed. The frame protested. “Good answer, big guy. Good answer.”

  Then there were no more words as she continued to drive them both mad. She’d find a pace and send them spiraling upward, only to slow it then take him higher again. The tension in his body seemed to stretch to the breaking point. Still gripping the bed with one hand, he glided his free hand to tease her breasts, then down to press two fingers against her clit while rocking his hips upward.

  Her scream declared her pleasure as she plunged onto him, and he was balls deep. Then his spine went to liquid fire as her pussy clamped around him and he came. The board he gripped snapped in half, and then he rolled her over, their mouths fusing as he thrust into her, riding their orgasm together.

  The delicious combination had him gasping in turn. His own orgasm pulsed through him, magnified with her every touch. Surrounded by the quiet quakes of her pleasure and feeling replete in a way he hadn’t in a very long time, Drake rolled onto his back once more, dragging her with him until she draped him, boneless and soft in her pleasure.

  Entwined together, he drifted with her content to hold her. Every barrier in him collapsed, and when she lifted her head to gaze at him with a contented smile, he couldn’t halt the swell of possession filling him.

  “I should warn you,” she murmured, an almost drunken note to her voice.

  “Hmm?” He would take whatever she had to offer.

  “I don’t share.” The declaration took him out at the knees, and if he weren’t already flat on his back, he might have collapsed.

  “You will never have to,” he swore. He was hers.

  Chapter 13

  Rory ignored the guards at the main desk as she stalked into the Infinity Building. She’d checked everywhere for her parents, but they weren’t answering their damn phones. Their lack of responsiveness drove her crazy. It wasn’t the first time her parents had gone off the grid. She’d grown used to the Graystones becoming involved in one project or another and forgetting time.

  In fact, one of the things Rory enjoyed most about working with the Infinity Team, from going to the training camps to forming their own team, was the company she found there. Having a household staff was not like having parents.

  Fortunately, she’d been a regular figure in and out of the Infinity Corporation’s downtown building too often for the guards to question her presence. As she headed over to the executive elevators however, she did have to use a thumbprint scanner and a retinal scan to access the express elevator that would take her up to her father’s private laboratory on the top floor. Two armed guards gave her the side eye as she went through the process. When the scanner went green and the doors opened, they resumed their attention elsewhere. The urge to stick her tongue out at them was a powerful temptation. Inside, she entered the code key then waited as it ascended.

  Yes, her parents disappearing into their work was a common failing and one she should be extremely used to by her age. Yet it made her weary to realize just how expected it was, and why had she even bothered go and look for them at the Central Park West apartment or at their house in Westchester?

  Truth was, she’d done it more for herself than to find them because she needed time to compose her thoughts and prepare herself for the possibility of a confirmation she hadn’t wanted to hear. In the months she’d been with Michael, she’d avoided her parents and only spoken to them once or twice on the phone. She didn’t know who Hans Geiger was, nor had she had any kind of relationship with anyone named Hans Geiger. On more than one occasion, she’d wanted to ask her parents—why hadn’t she?

  That question burned like a neon sign in the back of her brain as the doors parted to reveal the top floor. Stepping out, she let the ambience of the executive hallway wash over her. While her father maintained his private computer lab on the floor, it was also home to her parents’ offices and private conference rooms. The carpets were plush and masterworks decorated the walls. One thing her parents definitely had in common, they didn’t believe in working in austere surroundings. They liked luxury, liked having money. Corporate building or not, it even smelled like them—brandy, cloves from her father’s favorite cigarettes, and vanilla from the candles her mother preferred to burn.

  The place where opulence and pragmatism collided. Being there offered her a strange sort of comfort. She looked left, toward the conference rooms where her parents entertained guests occasionally. The lack of light or noise told her no one was there. On the right, where her parents’ offices sat side-by-side, nothing moved. The ventilation kicked in, the whirs of air the only sound in the hushed silence. That left her father’s research lab, though whether her mother was with him was anyone’s guess.

  Striding down the hallway directly in front of her, she didn’t slow her pace until she reached the main double doors. While the conference rooms and offices took up one third of the upper floor of the infinity building, her father’s lab to get the other two thirds. Reaching for the handle, she turned it only to find it locked. A locked door wasn’t that unusual, but it did send a frisson of worry through her.

  Glancing at the access panel, she entered her code, but instead of flashing green to allow her admittance, it went red. Attempting to code a second time, she waited and it continued to flash red. Real concern taking root, Rory entered the code she knew belonged to her father. She wasn’t supposed to have it, but her father proved pretty predictable. The code was a combination of hers and her mother’s birthdays. The panel went green and the door locks disengage.

  Pressing the doors inward, she stepped into the antechamber the great research laboratory. Computers of all types and performance levels occupied every surface. A glass enclosed room played host to her father’s server farm.

  He’d always been a tech genius and enjoyed building new gadgets, large and small. He designed a whole new set of
prosthetic limbs to help patients with missing arms and legs become more functional. On her last visit, he’d shown her his latest obsession—a functional synthetic skin which would give a cybernetic prosthetic the appearance of a more natural limb while still having power and precision.

  Sometimes her father displayed his most current projects on the electronic whiteboard, a way of showing where he was and to give an idea of how much he accomplished. It appeared off at the moment.

  In fact, beyond the hum of the equipment, the lab itself seemed curiously quiet.

  Warning bells went off inside Rory’s head. She knew a trap when she’d walked into one. She only had two questions.

  Where the hell were her parents?

  Who the hell was waiting for her?

  It shouldn’t have surprised her. Fizz.

  “Of all the tech labs in all the world, it had to be this one.” The same dry humor, familiar cocky grin, and icy know-it-all eyes, told her Fizz hadn’t changed a bit in all the years since she’d last seen him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Rory stared at him. In her mind, she was already cycling through possibilities. She understood Fizz, understood how powerful he was, and how much his abilities relied on the technology around them. She also understood that, when it came to straight hand-to-hand combat, she would hand him his ass. She would never make the mistake of assuming he didn’t have a plan. If there is one thing Fizz had always been, it was prepared.

  “That’s a stupid question from a very smart woman. Why do you think I’m here, Rory?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re going to ambush me in some misguided attempt to save me.” She couldn’t have kept the scorn from her voice if she’d tried. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his mouth tightened. Yeah, she still had Fizz’s number.

  “You think so very little of me, and you always underestimated me.”

  “I don’t think about you all,” It wasn’t really a lie. She didn’t think about him, though his presence and involvement warned her of a deeper issue. “You were in on it… You took Amanda. Why?”