Desire Unmatched: 4 (Coded for Love) (17 page)

Hoots and cheers from their onlookers brought him out of his
reverie and he spared a glance to his audience. “Get out.” The formerly scary
Xander was back for that one command, and all four of his pupils bolted out of
the room, not even trying to hide their laughter.

“We’ll lock the door behind us,” Emmett called, and his
friends laughed.

Xander ignored them, as did Emma. “Gonna fight me?” she
asked in a husky whisper. “Come and get me.”

She spun and took off, but didn’t get more than a foot away
from him before he had her locked in his arms. A well-placed foot to the back
of her knee took her down to the mat. She was his.

He kneeled behind her, keeping his forearm on her chest and
her spine against his. His erection punched out of his pants and brushed the
cleft of her ass, all too visible thanks to her skintight spandex. He was never
letting her leave his sight in this outfit again.

“Xander?” Her voice was quiet, questioning.

He tightened his grip on her without answering. He sucked
back a breath, struggling to maintain some control. The newness of his
connection washed over him and would’ve brought him to his knees if he hadn’t
already been there. This irreverent slip of a woman had become his everything
faster than he’d ever believed possible. His desire for her went far deeper
than simply sexual.

“Xander?” Emma asked again. “Are you going to touch me?”

Ducking his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to her bared
spine then whispered, “Turn over.”

His instinct had screamed for him to fuck her on the mat on
their knees. “Turn over,” he said roughly, not waiting for her compliance and
twisting her in his arms. He lowered her to the mat and followed her down.

Her face was full of questions, but he didn’t wait to answer
and instead leaned in to kiss her. He started slow, trying to convey with every
touch of his tongue and lips the depth of his feelings. Was this love? He had
no basis for comparison. His tongue had never uttered the words. Not to his parents,
not to another woman.

He did know he wanted to fall asleep every night holding
Emma and wake up to her smiling face. He cradled her head in one hand and
supported his weight with his other arm. Did that mean love? He didn’t know.

Their mouths met with an unparalleled urgency. His head swam
with the need to burrow into her soul-deep. He urged her on.

She accepted his passion and returned it twofold. They lay
in the center of the large mat of the large gym, but the intimacy of their
connection unmanned him.

“Emma,” he whispered.

“Xander…”

“I need you, want you…” His mutterings grew more frenzied
and nonsensical. He kept uttering words of need and desire as his fingers found
the metal hooks of her bra and unclasped them.

Together they pushed off her bra and bared her breasts to
his ravenous mouth. He kneaded, he caressed, and he worshipped.

“Xander,” she cried out, tilting her head back to the mat.
He easily lifted her to his mouth and moved lower to kiss every inch of her
belly. This time when she stifled a giggle he knew he’d found a ticklish spot.
He nipped at it, eliciting a gasp.

“More,” she said.

“You’re going to give me more. I’m going to take it all,
Emma.”

“It’s yours, Xander. I’ve always been yours.”

He leaned up to kiss her lips to stop her from saying things
he both loved and hated hearing. He could’ve had her months ago if he hadn’t
been a terrified ass.

When he tried to move his head lower to return to her
breasts, she caught his cheeks in her hands. “Don’t hide from me, Xander. There
are no walls between us. We belong together.”

“Yes,” he managed to rasp, staring deep into her eyes. He
made another attempt to move, but she stilled him with a look and her words.

“Make love to me.”

It was the first time they’d used the L-word. He hadn’t
found the strength to say the words yet, but he could show her. He would show
her how strongly he felt.

The button and zipper to his cargos were unfastened in
record time and the pants shoved to his knees. His boxer briefs followed. For
Emma, he took his time. Slowly, he peeled the skintight spandex from her hips,
displaying lacy black underwear. He nearly came on the spot from the visual of
her pale skin covered by the dark strip of lace. There were layers to Emma, and
layers to sex he was only beginning to unravel.

He was undone by her passion when she tugged her panties off
and spread her legs, revealing herself to him. He couldn’t pull his gaze away,
staring at her perfection. A tentative finger reached out to circle her clit
and he smiled at the wet heat surrounding his digit.

“More,” she said.

He added a second finger and grew more confident as her hips
thrust onto his fingers. “Spread your lips for me,” he ordered. “I want to see
how dripping wet you get.” He sat back on his haunches as she slowly tormented
him, following his order. He looked, blinked, then fell on her, burying his
face between her legs.

He licked and sucked at her while her gasps and moans did
good things for his ego. Her pleasure was his drug of choice, and he could
admit he was an addict. She grew softer and wetter under the ministrations of
his mouth, but he didn’t want her to come yet. He wanted to be inside her when
she did.

He slowed his movements, giving one gentle lick to her clit,
then pulling back. “You like that?”

“Yes.”

“Want more?” Another lick.

“Yes.”

“Want my cock?” A delicate pinch.

Emma pushed up on her elbows. “If you don’t get inside me
this instant, I’m introducing you to reality television.” She lay back on the
mat. “We’ll start with
The Real Housewives
. A marathon, I tell you. Days
of it on end.”

He had no idea what
The Real Housewives
was, but it
was clear Emma considered it a true threat. He crawled up her body, covering
her from torso to toes. “Wrap your legs around me.” He helped by hooking an arm
under one of her thighs as she had shown him. “Guide me in?”

A groan caught in his chest as her soft palm wrapped around
his shaft and took him to heaven. He gave one nudge, then another and soon was
buried to the hilt in her slippery-wet passage. Her eyes had closed, but he wanted
to see her.

“Emma, look at me.” He had to repeat his request. Her eyes
were shut tightly and her hips were undulating under him in a screaming hint
for him to move.

The second he connected with her pale-blue irises, he let
his hips get to work. Heaven. His cock buried in her tight pussy was heaven,
second only to the way his heart pounded at the way she was looking at him. As
if he were king of the mountain, the center of her universe.

What was his face telling her? He lowered himself for a kiss
as he increased the rhythm of his thrusts. He wanted to do this forever. If he
could figure out a way to stay inside her every second of every day, he would.

Her passage rippled and came to life around him, and by now
he’d learned she was starting to climax. Still he thrust, gritting his teeth
against the urge to come. He wanted to push her to new heights, to prolong the
pleasure and gratification as long as possible.

“Xander,” she cried. She might have closed her eyes. He
didn’t know. His were now squeezed shut as he concentrated on the orgasm
building in his body.

“Emma.” His lips brushed the hair over her ear. “Can you
come again?”

“Yes.”

Her fingernails dug ten half-moons into the skin on his
shoulder blades. For a wild moment he thought about getting that as a tattoo to
remind him of this moment, of Emma shrieking and writhing with pleasure under
him. But he wouldn’t need the tattoo to remember. She was branded on his body,
his mind, his soul.

With a last thrust he let go, releasing his passion. She
continued to squeeze around him, clutching him everywhere they connected. He
gently thrust, drawing out her orgasm, and clenched his jaw as his pleasure
skirted pain.

His body collapsed on hers, pressing her into the mat. They
lay together, catching their breath and floating slowly back down to reality.

Xander shuffled into the crowded conference room and took
his usual seat in the corner. As it was Monday, Emma was in class. They didn’t
get Columbus Day off. He was trying not to get anxious about her being off
campus without security, but it wasn’t easy. After spending all Saturday and
Sunday with her in bed, he was shaken by his need for her.

“Yo, Xander,” Chase called. “Want this chair?” He gave a
small spin to the chair next to him. “Nice and padded. Almost like a gym mat.”

He frowned over at Chase but kept his seat.

Rowan was up next. “I’m sitting by the door, man. Quicker
exit if Xander needs us out fast.”

Heat climbed into his cheeks as he understood he was being
razzed. Dozens of pairs of eyes and laughing faces were turned in his direction
as he responded with a single middle finger. There were catcalls and a few more
crude comments, which ground to a halt the second Shep entered the room, strode
around the table and slapped a manila file folder onto the wood.

The commander’s gaze circled the room. “The French called.”

The silence intensified. “Border patrol caught some
interesting characters driving a van across the country line.”

Xander tensed and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs,
his hands in fists.

“GIGN’s got them in custody,” Shep continued, referencing
the elite French anti-terrorist unit.

“We want ’em,” Adam said. Numerous head bobs and grunts of
agreement followed his statement.

Shep sank into a chair. “We might want them, but we’re not
getting them.”

Cries of protest rang out, but Xander kept silent, waiting
for the rest of the statement. He’d known Shep long enough to know there was
more.

“They have, however, agreed to let us send a small team to
observe the interrogation.”

“How small?” Adam asked suspiciously.

“Two men.”

More protests.

“I talked them into three,” Shep said calmly. “Gavin,
Emmett, and…” He swiveled in his chair. “Xander. If you’re up for it.”

He gave a curt nod. “I’m in.” He was surprised by the selection
of Emmett, one of the younger soldiers he’d trained yesterday.

“I want Emmett shadowing you, Gavin,” Shep said, and Gavin
nodded, looking unsurprised.

He guessed he shouldn’t be either. Emmett was already in his
twenties, more than a good age to acquire necessary skills. Shep wouldn’t send
him unless he was considered a value-add to the team.

“Will we be allowed to help with the interrogation?” Gavin
asked.

“No. Strictly observers,” Shep said.

Xander and Gavin exchanged meaningful glances. Bullshit. When
they met up with the French unit, it was meeting a pack of brothers, albeit
brothers who spoke a different language. They’d all work together to get
desired answers.

“The French are looking for more information about a threat
against their water supply. They are sympathetic to our desire to learn more
about Xander’s kidnapping, but it will not be the primary focus of their
investigation.”

Angry mutters circled the room. Xander sat back, resigned to
the politics of the situation. Both issues were equally important. One was
immediate, one more long-term. They both needed resolution.

“When do we leave?” Emmett asked.

“Tonight. Nine p.m., unless Xander has an appointment in the
gym,” Shep said, without a trace of irony.

Laughter erupted, and finally he was forced to grin
sheepishly. Adam, who sat next to him, clapped him on the back. “Get used to
the ribbing. You’ve been cyborg man so long, everyone’s excited to see you’re
human.”

He shook his head and reconciled himself to a few more days
of being the butt of a joke. As long as they didn’t go after Emma, he could
handle it. One wrong look at Emma, and he was kicking serious ass.

Shep adjourned the meeting and he rose to go start packing.
He made it to the doorway before he was called back. Shep waited until the room
was completely clear before speaking. “I saw your request for new housing with
Emma.”

He tensed, waiting for the verdict.

“Do you really want this? She’s young, and you’re…you. Can
you handle being her match? A father?”

He met his commander’s gaze and saw deep insightfulness and
compassion lurking in the older man’s face. He swallowed and wondered how much
Shep knew. His unasked question was answered.

“I owe you an apology, Xander. There were things I didn’t
understand, things I didn’t see clearly twenty years ago. Your father for one.
I should’ve done things differently. I would’ve stopped it. I would’ve
protected you.” Shep shuffled the folders on the table, sliding them an inch
this way, an inch the other way.

Xander wrapped his arms around his torso and struggled to
find a calm speaking voice. He couldn’t acknowledge Shep’s words. To do so
would break him. Knowing he could’ve had an advocate, but hadn’t. It hurt.
Enough to send him into a pit of self-pity. “I want Emma,” he managed. “Do we
get an apartment or not?”

Shep’s face returned to his impassive mask. “Yes. We’ll have
her moved there while you’re in France.”

“Thank you, sir.” He turned to leave the conference room,
taking gulps of air as he strode to Emma’s apartment. He needed to pack, but first
he needed to find his calm. Without Emma’s physical presence the closest he
could get would be her apartment infused with her possessions, her scent.

His phone rang the second his foot hit the flat carpet on
the inside of her apartment. He glanced at the caller ID. “Emma?”

“Xander, are you all right?”

All his words froze for a second and he let the sound of her
voice wash over him.

“Xander, speak to me. Something’s wrong. I know it. Do you
need me to come home?”

“No,” he barked out the order. “Stay in class.”

“All right.” But her doubt slid easily through the speaker.
“Honey, we’re matched. I can feel that something’s bothering you. Don’t try to
hide it.”

“I’m not trying to hide anything. I don’t want to bum you
out while you’re supposed to be paying attention in school.”

“Well that did the trick. I feel ever so much better,
thanks.”

A small smile spread thanks to her snarky words. His girl
had sass. “I’m fine now. Shep got in my face about you, the past. All kinds of
shit. Kind of blew my mind to be honest.”

“What did he say?” Her voice went all soft and sweet.

“Get back to class. Tell you later.”

“Tell me now. I have fifteen minutes until my next class. Or
I can come home. Give you a kiss, make you feel better?”

Damn, nothing he wanted more, but no. “Stay in school. I’ll
see you later.”

“Xander…”

“What?”

“You still haven’t told me what Shep said.”

“Oh, uh. Said he didn’t know about my dad. Would’ve stopped
it. Would’ve helped me.”

There was a long silence, and then, “Oh honey. That’s tough.
I mean on one hand it was nice of him to let you know. On the other, where the
hell was he twenty years ago? It’s got to hurt knowing he could’ve helped and
didn’t.”

“That about sums it up.”

“You’ll be okay until I get home?” Her voice was quiet.

“I’ll manage. Did fine for thirty years before you. Can hold
out two more hours.”

She chuckled. “See you soon. Text me if you need me.”

“See you.” They hung up before he remembered he hadn’t told
her he was heading out to France tonight. Shit, but just as well. If she knew
he was flying out, she’d probably have broken speed limits to get back here and
talk him out of it. Somehow he knew Emma was going to be pissed as all get out
about his mission to France. She wouldn’t get that it was his prerogative.
She’d only see he was still recovering from his last mission gone FUBAR. She’d
have to deal. He was going.

* * * * *

“Are you messing with me?” Emma seemed two inches taller
than normal as she glared at him from across her apartment.

“Emma, stop freaking out. I’m going for a night or two.
Three tops.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

He didn’t respond. What was there to say? She was pissed
off. As expected. Things had started off great with a warm kiss, some sweet
whispers about missing him, and then
bam
, she lost her shit when he
informed her they had about three hours together until he had to head out to
France. “I’m doing my job, Emma.”

“Oh really? Has Doctor Wise signed off on this?”

“She doesn’t know.”

At the look on her face, he got his hands ready to defend
himself in case she decided to hurl the stack of textbooks on the table serving
as a desk in front of her.

“It’s not a combat mission, Em. I’m going to sit on a plane
and then I’m parking my ass in an office.”

“Oh.” Her posture relaxed a hair.

Shit, had he not said that? “The French border patrol found
a suspected terrorist cell crossing the border. Might be the same group who
held me.”

“And you’re going because you can identify them.”

“Exactly.”

“And you won’t be fighting? You can promise a gun will not
touch your fingers, nor will you touch the hilt of a knife?”

He could never make that an ironclad guarantee. Life was
uncertain. He never would’ve predicted a simple guard job at a local restaurant
would’ve turned into a month-long hostage situation. “I swear.”

A small smile relaxed her face. “Then it looks like we have
three hours to savor before you get on a plane.”

He grinned and closed the distance between them.

“You called me Em,” she murmured into his chest, wrapping
her arms tightly around his torso.

“I did?”

“Yeah. I like it. Your first pet name.”

“You call me honey,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but you’ve never called me anything but Emma before.”

He squeezed her in close to his body, savoring the way she
warmed his front. Other parts got heated up also at her nearness. “What do you
want me to call you?”

“Whatever you want. What feels natural?”

He pulled back a hair and looked at her face. “Emma?
Sweetheart?” No, that felt wrong rolling off his tongue. “Babe?” A little
better. “Em.” Yeah, that was right.

“Three hours to kill. What
shall
we do?” Her hands
found the button of his pants. He grabbed them.

“Have you had dinner?”

“No, but I’m hungrier for you.”

“I know the feeling,” he muttered, then louder, “Eat first,
sex later.”

She waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Xander, is
that you?”

He stayed her hand by grabbing her wrist. “What’s wrong with
me wanting you to eat?”

“Nothing. It’s sweet, but you’re the only male I’ve ever met
who put food before sex.”

“No, I didn’t. I put your health before sex. Now let’s move
it.” He dropped a kiss onto her soft hair and tugged her toward the door.

* * * * *

Dinner seemed endless and annoying. For one, they tried to
sit at a table by themselves, but no one seemed to get the unspoken hint they
wanted to be alone. Their presence in the cafeteria was a beacon for every team
member to stop by, say hi, and wish Xander well in France. By the fifteenth
intruder, she’d lost her appetite.

“Ready?” she asked Xander, eyeing his plate, which was
nearly clean. He didn’t have the problem she did. When people came by, he
grunted or nodded and kept eating without concern he was being rude.

She couldn’t do it. She greeted every person with a smile or
verbal welcome, which meant her plate was about as full now as it was thirty
minutes ago.

Xander pushed back his chair. “Let’s go.” He froze halfway
to standing a few inches from his chair, and she knew instantly something was
wrong.

“Son.” Mr. Bristack approached the table from behind her.

Emma eyed him with a stony glare. It had been too much to
hope he’d received the message when Xander had ditched him at the shooting
range. He’d been biding his time for retaliation and was here to strike.

Xander stood at attention. She was going to lose the last
three hours with him, wasn’t she? Damn his father. Therefore, she was totally
shocked when she heard Xander’s words.

“I understand the mission, sir. I’m not coming with you.
I’ll be with Emma.”

Mr. Bristack spoke in low, harsh whispers to his son, and
she tried not to listen but finally she’d had enough. She stood and circled the
small table to Xander’s side and grabbed his hand.

“Mr. Bristack, trust your son. You trained him well, now let
him go.” Giving the man any sort of praise nearly burned her tongue, but there
was no denying Xander was a fighting machine. She wanted to say more, but she
needed to step back. If Xander was to break free of his father’s overly harsh
clutches, he had to man up and do it himself.

“It’s my time with Emma. I’ll see you when I get back,”
Xander told his father. He tugged her hand to get moving. She wanted to sing
and dance and throw confetti. She restrained her celebration to an inward
smile. Xander had done it. He’d calmly told his father to back off.

They reached the cafeteria doors. “We didn’t clear our plates,”
he whispered.

“Marlena’s going to kill us,” she whispered back. They
grinned at each other and dashed out of the door. They hit the small vestibule
separating the cafeteria from the outside world, and Xander swept her into a
kiss, pushing her back against the wall.

She met him with equal force. Their bodies pressed into each
other, leaving no room for air.

“Get a room,” someone groaned as Gavin and Rowan and other
soldiers brushed passed them to enter the cafeteria.

Xander kept kissing her.

“My room,” she pulled back to say.

He half dragged, half carried her outside and back in the
main office until they crashed through the doorway of her apartment. “What do
you want?” she asked.