Elite Metal-ARE-epub (12 page)

“Mmm… that’s it, baby. Come for me,” he murmured against her tender mound, continuing to suck her clit as the first wave subsided. “I’ve got you.”

“What you do to me,” she muttered in a daze, with her eyes closed.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

She half chuckled, half groaned. “I don’t think I’ll survive.”

“You can take anything I can dish out. You were made for me, Alayna.”

He stood fast, unwilling to give her time too process what he’d just owned up to feeling. He gripped her around the thighs, lifting and guiding her legs around his waist as he pushed her back against the shower wall.

“Oh my God, that’s cold,” she shrieked and arched into him. “You could have at least warmed the tiles.”

“And miss watching your nipples harden? Never.”

“You’re evil.” She ran her tongue up his neck and nipped at his earlobe.

“And you like me this way.”

“I do,” she said with a sigh and tightened her legs around his waist, grinding her pussy against the underside of his cock. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” She finally relaxed into his strength. “I think you’ve held me more than I’ve been on my own two feet tonight.”

“As it should be.” He wanted to blame the baring of his thoughts on alcohol. Only problem with that was he didn’t touch any at the club. Open and honest with what was going on in his head didn’t normally do it for him.

But with her?

He stared at her and she didn’t shy away. Didn’t close her eyes or hug him tight to look past him. None of that. Closely she watched him. Cautiously. But she was right there with him.

He flexed his hips, dragging out the anticipation as his shaft slid along her clit. “Say my name.”

“Steele. Please—”

“No.” He pulled back far enough to look her in the eye. “Say my name, Alayna.”

Her lashes fluttered in confusion, then her eyes widened and she ceased wiggling in his embrace. She swallowed and licked her lips. On her face he saw the understanding that this time together was not just two people fucking. More than two people releasing energy. It would be a merging of the body and soul, and if she wasn’t ready for what he asking for, she needed to say so now.

She licked her lips again. “Adam.” It came out a whisper, and then she pulled him closer, breathing deeply. “Take me, Adam. Claim me.”

Fuckin’ A.

He drove forward, pulling her down until he was completely seated inside her tight heat.

“Damn baby, you feel too good…” He thrust again. “Can you feel that? Can you feel me?”

“Yes…” Her sex clenched and gushed around him. “More, Adam. Please.”

With a groan, he lunged, then widened his stance for better purchased and began to drill inside her. His cock pulsated with each thrust, growing and swelling as the pressure built with his need to come.

“What you do to me, woman,” he growled and bucked harder, showing her no mercy.

Sensations bombarded him from every angle. The break of her voice as she cried out. The sting of her fingernails digging into his shoulders, then again as she pulled on his hair. Fuck she was sexy when she came.

Honeysuckle and jasmine filled his nose as he buried is face into the crook of her neck, as the steam from the water, the decadent trickle of the spray cascaded down his back and between the cheeks of his ass to caress his tightening sac. Her pussy sucked and pulled on the length him, goading him to fill her with his seed.

He could pull out. He
should
pull out. But damn them both, he’d rather die than leave her clutching softness.

“Adam,” she screamed as he bit into her shoulder to hold her slipper body still, and plunged one—last—time.

Fire raced down his spine as he claimed her.

An inferno consumed him, consumed
them
, fusing them together into one writhing, convulsing entity. Secluded in their own world of mist and passion.

Love
.

Minutes later or hours or days passed as he held her to him. Clutched her gorgeous frame to his. Never wanting to let go.

Damn, life was a bitch. At a time when he had nothing to offer, he dared to think beyond himself, beyond the mission and into the great future with its limitless possibilities.

Sometime soon he was going to have to pull away from her, not only physically, but emotionally. He never should have let it get that far. Once Korovin was detained, he would be onto the next mission. The next target. Red Wolf.

And Alayna…

What about Alayna?

He knew so little about her—her past, her hopes, her wishes. In the little time they were together he had become an expert on her body’s responses, but otherwise he knew nothing about her. In his past he knew more about the lives of the submissives he played with one time then he did about Alayna. And here he was, ready to make major life choices about her?

Z, help me, buddy. What the hell do I do now?

Chapter Nine

The emotional highs and lows of the evening’s events should have put him under the moment his head hit the pillow, but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead Steele lay with Alayna curled into his side and replayed the last few days in his mind over and over again. Shit, had it really been less than seventy-two hours since his life was turned upside down, again? How many times was he going to get kicked in the balls, forced to restart his life?

It would probably be in his best interest to focus on nothing but capturing Korovin, but he felt about ready to crawl out of his skin. Fate wasn’t done fucking with him yet, he felt it in his bones. There were too many players, and too many pieces moving at the same time. It was as if he were playing offense and defense at the same time against three different teams and at any minute the blare of the last whistle was going to go off and it would be too late.

What exactly “it” was, he just couldn’t put his finger on.

With sleep eluding him for far too long, he untangled himself from the warmth of Alayna’s body and climbed out of bed to dress in a pair of track pants and a tank top.

Maybe if he researched more about Korovin, he’d be better able to predict his actions and let the man come to them instead of them chasing the bastard around Sin City.

He crept into the sitting space of their suite, not bothering to turn on any of the lights so as not to disturb Alayna. The poor girl passed out before he got her into bed.

As the computer started up, he cracked open a bottle of water from the minibar. “Thank you, Warbucks.” He saluted into the air.

Once the desktop was open, he clicked on the files pertaining to Korovin specifically. A half hour later he was drawing a blank and starting to feel the effects of exhaustion pulling at him.

He clicked on the file of photographs, hoping to see a face he might have recognized from the club. No one new popped out at him from the file of Red Wolf’s known associates. From the Korovin file there were the photos he had seen when the man was in Paris, and then some more from Germany and, much to his surprise, a few from the Houston airport.

There were a series of photos labeled Korovin-Babikov that were dated from the month before. In those pictures Korovin was sitting at a restaurant with a gentleman who appeared to be in his fifties. Thick silver hair was cut nice and tight to his square-shaped head, and a thick mustache covered his upper lip. He carried himself with a distinguished air but you could tell he had the backbone to back it up. He might have been wearing a well-tailored suit, but there was power in his posture, a narrowing of his eyes. A clear warning.

Red Wolf.

In Steele’s opinion Red Wolf ranked right up there with big evils of the world. The US government needed to put him down and put him down quick, but the man knew how to stay two steps ahead. And it was fuckers like Korovin who helped him stay that way.

It was impossible to tell where exactly the restaurant meeting took place, but Steele found another series of photos labeled Aktau, Caspian Sea. Judging from the angle the photos were taken, Steele guessed the photographer was located up on a rooftop or high-rise building.

Red Wolf was living it up on a yacht with singles and pairs in various states of undress soaking in the summer sun. He was even in several shots pressed up tight with some long-legged blonde.

Only mild curiosity made him linger over the pictures of Red Wolf and his mistress. What kind of a woman allowed a monster like that to put his hands on her? And this woman was no casual acquaintance. Red Wolf’s body language clearly stated possession.

More photos skipped across the screen as he clicked through the series. Red Wolf smoking his cigars. Cubans, of course. Schmoozing with his guests.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing,” he muttered. “Wait. What the fuck?”

The photographer had captured a close up of the blonde, this time from the front. He zoomed into the photo until her face filled the screen. Subtle differences existed, her cheekbones were higher, and her nose a little more pert. Her eyes, though. They were exactly the same. Alayna hadn’t changed her eyes. 

“Son of a bitch.”

“Hi.” Alayna said, standing at the entrance with a sheet clutched to her breast. “You’re up early. Or haven’t you slept?”

For a long while he could only stare at her, but in his mind’s eye all he saw were the compromising photos with her and their enemy.

“Adam?” She took a step closer. “What’s wrong?”

The sound of his given name on her lips was like a slap in the face. He spun the laptop around to face her. He barely kept the snare out of his voice as he asked, “Who are you? Venus or one of Red Wolf’s whores? ‘Cause in my book they’re one and the same.”

All color leeched from her cheeks as she looked at the monitor then back at him with her jaw clenched tight.

The silence just pissed him off more. “You lied to me.”

“I- I didn’t. Really. I told you Venus died, and she did when Red Wolf’s men ran my car off the road.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he sputtered. “You’re going with a technicality? You should have told me who you were from day one.”

“And would you have agreed to the mission if you knew I was Venus?”

“How the fuck would I know? You didn’t give me a chance. God dammit, do you have any idea of what you’ve done?” Operation Phoenix. The current mission. Them…

Her eyes widened and filled with tears. “Of course I do. I live every day knowing it was my call to bring in the teams. It was my intel that you went on. But I didn’t know my cover had been blown.”

“Then I guess that means you can sleep at night,” he snarled and stood, brushing past her so he could shove the laptop back in the bag. He sure as hell didn’t need to look at the pictures anymore. He’d never forget them. “You should have told me, at least I would have known who you really were, instead of putting my dick in the same place as a terrorist.”

Shock slackened her face and she gasped as if he struck her. A heartbeat past, then two, then she snapped her teeth together.

“Don’t you go getting holier than thou with me, Adam Steele. You were a Marine. You were Recon. You did the jobs no one had the will or stomach to do because they needed to be done. You’ve done things that would give most people nightmares because it comes with the job. We’ll I’ve had to do the same. I was tasked to get close to one of the most dangerous men in the world. You have the luxury of using a rifle. My only weapon was this.” She dropped the sheet, to stand naked before him.

Bruises in the shape of his hands covered her thighs where he had held her at the club. In the shower. Whisker burns graced the inside of her cleavage and at her shoulder was the impression of his teeth.

She was glorious. She was breathtaking. She was…not the woman he thought she was.

“Is that what this was?” He swept his hand out to encompass the disheveled bed. “Just a part of the job or did Poppy tell you to fuck me to make me more compliant?”

“You are such an ass. If you remember, you were the one to make the first move.”

Just like a woman to throw his actions back in his face. “Why should I believe you?”

“Adam, please.”

“You do not get to call me by that name.”

“Stop it, just stop.” She took a halting step toward him but stalled out as he stiffened. “I’m sorry. About everything. That I didn’t tell you I was Venus, and I’m sorry about Operation Phoenix. You have no idea how sorry I am.” Tears breached her lashes and coursed down her cheeks. “Korovin became my handler part way through the mission—I never met the bastard in person. Maybe if I had—I would have known what he was, avoided what he pulled. He sold me out to Babikov and Elite Recon got caught in the fallout.”

“Excuses,” he barked out, feeling hollow inside. “Those are nothing but excuses.”

“I tried,” she shouted. “I tried to warn you, but I was floating in a crushed car down the river. I almost died.”

“Zinc did died.” he shot back. “I watched him. And Uranium, and Tungsten. Titanium. Gold. They’re all dead. And all of the rest are dead to their families.”

“I know! That’s why I’m here. Why I’m doing everything I can to take down the people responsible for—”

“You’re one of those responsible. Venus,” he spat her name and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

She rubbed the wetness from her face but more tears took their place. “I live with those facts everyday. Each one of you is a hole in my heart that cannot be filled.”

“No.” he cut his hand through the air. “Those were
my
friends. My men. You do not get to mourn them like brothers.”

“What do you want from me, Steele? My blood? My life? Take it. If that’s the price you think I should pay, then hurt me. Strike me. Kill me now. I will sacrifice myself for all of them, for half of them. For even one. So do it.” She took his handgun off the nightstand and handed to him. “I’ll pay any price as long as you take away the pain.”

So self-righteous. So pious. Did she think he wouldn’t kill her now just to prove a point?

He flipped off the safety and aimed it directly at her heart.

Not once did she flinch. She stared up at him with her big brown eyes, tears clinging to her lashes, and was so damn beautiful, he felt as if he were looking directly at a piece of heaven.