Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (44 page)

Her words, so softly spoken, acted as a grenade, blasting the granite restrain, and releasing the undercurrent of emotions he was holding in check. Jaymee felt a shot of hot breath. Caught a whiff of his scent. Then his lips were on hers, hard, bruising, possessive, as his tongue pushed inside her mouth. One hand tangled into her hair and pulled, making her gasp, opening her mouth wider for his taking.

Deliberately, he straightened up, and with his other hand against the small of her back, he forced her to follow him, until she stood on tiptoes as he continued kissing her, devouring her. She could only cling blindly, as he ignored her lack of height, arching her and pulling on her hair. Her feet dangled helplessly as she held on to her only support, the sheer dominance of his body purposely showing her his power. And it was she who had unleashed it.

This was the Nick she had often glimpsed when he was into her computer, totally absorbed in some program, absolutely in control of the situation. And there was nothing she could hide from him as she clung to him, depending on him not to let go, not to destroy her.

Vaguely, she felt him drag her pants down, along with her panties, and her helplessness multiplied a hundred-fold when his hand slid between her legs from behind and touched her. His tongue and fingers moved in rhythm until she went into a frenzy, kicking her pants off in her need to open her legs for more of his touch. Her whimpers against his mouth went unheeded as he continued his slow assault until, lost in the throes of desire, she could no longer hold onto him, her hands losing strength, as he brought her closer to climax.

It was an utterly devastating sensation, this sense of falling, as she gave up trying to hang on, and her whole weight sagged against his body. His hand was twined tightly in her hair, his other hand deeply imbedded in her. The more she slid down, the deeper she let his fingers inside her.

She cried out, half in fear of falling and half in shock at the unbearable tension coiling itself tighter and tighter till she thought she would explode. She could weigh ten pounds instead of her hundred and fifteen, the ease with which he held her, stimulating that most sensitive part of her with his fingers. She moaned, garbled protests in between pleas, every one of which was muffled by his mouth, as he walked toward the sofa behind her. Each movement rocked her, slid her up and down his knowing fingers, and she was completely in his power, to do as he pleased.

When he released her lips, she found herself being lowered into a half-sitting position on the soft seat of the sofa, and she moaned at the loss of the feel of his hard body. She opened her eyes at the sound of his zipper and tried to focus on the dark form before her.

Hands went under each of her knees, pulling her forward off the sofa until she was almost falling off again, and helplessly opened, she could only hold on to the wedge between the back sofa pillow and the seat as he thrust into her.

With one stroke, he invaded her soul.

Each time he pulled out, he took her a little further off the sofa, deliberately creating that defenseless, falling sensation. He let her know she depended on him. That he was the master controller.

Deeper, harder. And he opened her wider as he pulled out.

Jaymee couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She could only feel the raw power of the man taking her. She moaned, the burning need for a release taking hold.

“Don’t scream, or I’ll stop.” His voice was rough.

And fingers touched her where they were connected and an incoherent cry rose from her lips, only to become a wail when he did exactly what he warned her he would do.

He stopped.

“No…!”

“You have to be quiet.” He touched her again.

“Yes,” she moaned back. Anything. Just...don’t...stop.

“I won’t. No screaming.”

She didn’t know she’d spoken aloud. She felt her legs being moved even higher, against his shoulders, and he was so deep, every stroke was a statement of possession.

“I don’t like it when you turn away from me, babe. It makes me want to turn you around and do this. Make you want me as much as I want you.”

His fingers came back to torture her as she bit down to stop from crying out loud. She was so close.

“Not yet,” he told her, and took his fingers away.

There was nothing she could do. She discovered she was utterly powerless. She didn’t want him to stop. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t push him away, in her position. And he was still stroking into her, slow and hard, nudging her inside until she whimpered at every thrust.

His breathing was faster now, but he was still ruthlessly in control of her body, as he started to play with her eager flesh again, rubbing as he pushed, teasing with the rhythm of his body. She followed his lead, letting him take her closer to release. But he seemed determine to prolong the torture.

“Please, darling,” she finally pleaded, her voice breathless, after the third time he denied her.

“Don’t turn away from me again,” he told her, his voice raspy and thick. “You drive me crazy when you do that. Crazy. Crazy.” He leaned forward, going even deeper. She gasped. “Don’t scream, baby.”

Engulfed in sensations, she couldn’t answer him. The darkness shimmered with flashes of light. A heady heaviness built into a crescendo from her gut, and she tried to control it, fearing he would stop again, just to torture her. If she could just keep it quiet, he wouldn’t know, and she would get what she wanted so desperately. Her head rolled back, her body arched, and she bit down on her lower lip as she tried not to clench down on him, or he would know.

He seemed to know anyway, slowing down until she felt like dying, each thrust in making her moan, each stroke out a silken torture. She didn’t think she was even breathing any more. A part of her understood he was punishing her for trying to walk away. He was making a statement, showing her no mercy at all this time.

“Now.” He choked out her name and slammed into her, one hand on her mouth, the other pressing down hard where she was wet and needy.

Maybe she did scream. She couldn’t tell. Darkness swallowed her as pleasure exploded behind her eyelids, and she plunged into an endless free fall that went on and on. She held on to the only thing that mattered.

Nick. He was her everything.

***

Darling. It was the first time Jaymee had ever called him an endearment. Nick wanted her to say it over and over. She was the sunshine in his shadowy world, and he wanted her, needed to take her, completely. When she’d started to turn away, something inside him snapped, but he’d hung on to his control, trying hard not to pull her into his arms. Until she called him darling. And dared him by touching him.

He gave in to his desire. He needed to take her the way a male took a mate, staking a claim. He wanted her so desperately, it angered him, because he couldn’t stop this need to have her. She wanted truth. She wanted to know how much he really wanted her. So he took her the way the Programmer was best—with unswerving concentration, obliterating any defenses standimg in the way, and achieving total understanding of every part of the thought process.

Except Jaymee took him along with her. She wasn’t one of the problems in the programs he tackled, nor was she another assignment whose mind he sought to probe. She gave him everything without his asking, offering him more than he dared take. And the more he possessed her, the more she owned him, because he wanted, needed, her softness.

This delicious oblivion with a woman was something new. She made him think of no one else. And he dared not take what she was offering, not with this new danger, of close ones being taken out one by one. He trusted her, but he couldn’t put her at risk, as Jed’s daughter was. As his friend, Emma, had been, and for which she’d paid the ultimate price. Not Jaymee. Not ever.

She stirred under him. “Are you all right?” he asked, unsure whether he had been too rough, knowing very well how much loss of control frightened her. He moved, positioning her more comfortably back onto the sofa.

Jaymee wrapped her arms around Nick’s waist. “You may do this all night, but you’re still not going to get out of answering my questions.”

Her voice sounded husky. She felt weak as a newborn baby. What was it about this man made her give in to him like that?

Nick looked down at her and then swallowed the urge to laugh out loud. His body shook with silent amusement. Did he think he ever could anticipate her every move? She had managed to provoke him at every turn, surprise him with every twist of this relationship. And her bullish determination only made him want her more. He’d never met a woman so intent on getting what she wanted once she set her mind to it, be it settling a hundred-thousand dollar debt, or getting to the bottom of a mystery. Details, it seemed, were her forte. He almost wished he could get Command to recruit her, so he could get her into his world.

Tired of his silence and his amusement, Jaymee dug her nails into his back. “Well?”

“You won’t succeed if you tire a man out with wild sex, sweetheart.”

He was back, the lazy, indolent Nick with the mocking drawl, propped over her satiated body, looking down at her through the darkness. “Wild sex part of your evasive tactics?” she asked sweetly.

“Invasive,” he countered with devilish mockery.

Jaymee was glad he couldn’t see her blush. His invasion had been a thorough victory. “Invade all you want,” she invited, her voice low, “but don’t evade me.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I do work for the government,” he finally admitted.

Relief flowed through her. He was letting her in, a little. “I gather that.” She kissed his chin, his jawline. “I had visions of CIA and FBI, and all those agencies with acronyms.”

“It isn’t that simple. We are linked to them, in a way.”

“You mean, you do their dirty work,” Jaymee said dryly. “I do read the newspapers, you know.”

He sighed, resigned to the fact it wouldn’t be an easy task to hide anything from her. “That’s all I can tell you,” he told her.

He hadn’t denied her guess. She smiled in the dark, suddenly liking his inability to see her. This was the way it had to be then. She would take what he would give. “What, no acronym?” she teased. “None of those fancy-schmancy Soldier of Fortune names like Delta Force, Night Hawk, or something macho sounding?”

Nick smothered another laugh. It was her talent, this ability to make him relax his guard. He growled when her teeth nipped a sensitive spot on his neck. He relented. “It’s CCC,” he murmured, “short for Covert-Subversive Command Center. They call us COS Commandos when they’re being nice.”

“Oooh, macho,” Jaymee whispered into his ear, then blew into it. He nipped up her neck till he found her ear and returned the favor. She shivered at the sensual flicks of his tongue. “I gather Jed is also one of these commandos? Or am I forbidden to ask?”

“He showed himself to you. It means he likes you, Jaymee.” Nick nuzzled deeper into her neck. “Yes, he is one of my unit.”

“Unit?”

“Yes. There are different units trained for different jobs, just like any company.”

“And Grace is being trained for a job in this company? She mentioned being in training.”

Nick sighed again. “Sometimes I wish you’d miss or forget something, sweetheart.”

He could only admire her skill, even as he saw right through her. She was attempting to get more information about him by changing the subject and focusing on his cousin and Grace. Like he’d known from the beginning, Jaymee was a worthy opponent.

“If he didn’t want me to know, Grace wouldn’t have mentioned it,” Jaymee pointed out with cheeky logic. “Maybe they were both testing me, to see whether I would remember.”

She was reminding him of what he’d said earlier, that his cousins liked to put people through some kind of test. Nick chuckled, reluctantly easing off her so he could sit up. He had better weigh his words carefully. At the rate her mind was working, he’d be telling her everything while she seduced him with that delightful body.

“You’re an incorrigible imp,” he accused, becoming more somber. “OK. He’s training her because of what happened to certain members in our unit. My…boat was rigged with an explosive.”

Jaymee jerked up. “What?” She hadn’t expected that.

“You wanted the truth,” Nick gently reminded her.

She swallowed. “I do.” She repeated the words firmly. “I do. I want to know what you do, so when you leave me, I’ll understand.”

That was why he couldn’t resist her. She never beat around the bush. He could waste time diverting her again and again, and each time, she’d find a way to get her answers. That was how she was, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

“I was on assignment, and I escaped.” He kept it as simple as he could. “They still think they got to me, and now they are after the others who were on the same assignment. Because we’re evasive experts, Jed thinks their easiest targets are our families. My friend’s wife was recently killed, and that’s why you see Jed training Grace, so she can take care of herself in case something happens to him.”

“Evasive expert,” Jaymee muttered. “That’s really a job description, like construction worker?”

“Nothing I can state on a resume,” said Nick, a grin forming. “We have lots of fancy names like that.” Like trackers, he silently added. Mind probes. Assimilators. All living in darkness and shadow.

“It isn’t so bad,” she consoled, a trace of mockery creeping into her voice. “I’ve to explain what a leak expert is.” She moved restlessly against him. “All right, Nick, you don’t need to tell me any more. Your truth is as close to my idea of it as it can ever be. I just wanted you to tell me without fudging around.”

Nick realized that had always been all she’d ever asked of him—to tell her the truth, not of what he did, but of what he was. And having gotten that from him, she was content not to need further details.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before,” he told her.

“I can only imagine the kind of life it must be, to always be afraid of people betraying you.” Jaymee touched his face. She wanted him to know she understood and accepted what he was. “To have to be careful all the time.”