Seth: Futuristic Spy Romance (Cyborgs: More Than Machines) (10 page)

On an airplane en route to her first mission for the military, and her first kill.

Despite her trepidation over the mission, Anastasia had to hand it to the general, he and the ones piloting this scheme hadn’t spared any expense when it came to keeping their cover intact. From the private jet owned by the fake weapons corporation to the clothing and gadgets she and Seth were outfitted with, everything was top-notch quality.

It made slipping into the role of rich trophy wife
and the son of an arms dealer that much easier. Even if Seth seemed determined to treat everything like a game.

Kicking back in casual linen trousers, his white shirt partially unbuttoned, his tie askew
, and dangling a half-full champagne glass, Seth appeared the epitome of rich playboy. “Relax, gorgeous. Pour yourself a drink.”

She shook her head.
“No thanks. I’d prefer to remain clear headed for our mission.”

One of his brows arched.
“Wrong answer. I think it’s time we went over the ground rules again. Or have you forgotten what our trainer taught? Rule number one, once you go in, you need to be in character. That means no more talking about you know what. We’ll soon be landing, and we have no idea where the eyes and ears of the enemy might be. Two, if we’re going to pull this off, you need to unwind. Right now you look like you’re about ready to jump out of your skin.”

“Because I’m nervous.”
And scared. This wasn’t a training exercise. If they messed up, they wouldn’t get reamed out by their CO or made to run laps. One misstep or wrong word and they could end up the recipient of a bullet to the head or worse.

“
Which is why you need to sit down beside me and have glass of wine. Relax your frazzled nerves.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“You think I’m not freaked out?” Seth asked in a high pitch. “I am, I’m just better at not showing it. Confidence is half the battle when it comes to subterfuge.”

“What’s the other half
?”

“Luck.”

When she gaped at him, he chuckled. “Okay, the other half is good planning with a heavy dollop of luck and a prayer that everything works out the way we’ve planned. Besides, it’s too late to back out now. One way or another, we’re going to get this done. Whether we’re successful or not totally depends on us. So, come on, sit down, and pretend we’re actually a rich couple on our way to a fabulous weekend of wining, dining, and debauchery.”

“Debauchery?”

A sexy grin lifted the corner of his lips. “If I’m lucky.” He patted the seat beside him and waggled his brows. When he did that, it was hard to take him seriously. Look at him trying to allay her worries and fears. Curse him for being so darned adorable.

Perhaps
Seth was right—perish the thought and mark it on the calendar as a first. Maybe she did need to stop overthinking and just go with the flow. Plopping herself on the buttery leather loveseat beside him, she snagged his glass and took a large swig.

Then laughed. “You jerk. This isn’t wine at all.”

“Okay. You caught me. It’s apple juice. I was always more of a beer and hard spirits kind of guy. Not to mention, I sometimes get airsick.”

“You’re not going to throw up
, are you?” She shot him a worried look, and he grinned.

“Not this time. Looks like the scars on my buttocks from the buckshot isn’t the only thing
those nanobots cured me of.”

“You were shot in the ass?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask
. Why?”

“In a nutshell? Angry daddy.
Not-so-innocent daughter. And me, running bare-assed through a corn field.”

She giggled
and tried to cover it, but the small chuckle grew and grew until she was full-out laughing.

“Hey, I’ll have you know it was anything but funny at the time.”

“If you say so,” she said, still chortling.

“Brat.”

She took another swig of apple juice, twirling the glass between her fingers after she did. “I dare say,
dahling,
this is a delectable vintage.”

“Only the best for you, gorgeous.”

“What other surprises do you have in store for me?”

“Less a surprise than a promise.”

“A promise of what?”

“You do realize we’ll be sharing a room.”

It had occurred to her, and then she’d tried to forget it. The idea of being in such intimate proximity with Seth did wild things to her body. It made her pulse race, her nipples tighten, and her sex moisten. “Are you implying what I think you are?”

“Was I being too subtle? Sorry.
Let me make myself clearer. You. Me. Bed. Naked. Fucking.”

Crude? Very, yet
there was that fluttery feeling again, the one that made her breathless and flushed her body with heat, lusty heat and desire. “But our mission—”

“Requires us to play the part of a couple. Couples
have sex. Think of it as a necessary pleasure to make our cover story seem more believable.”

“Even in the privacy of our chamber?”

“Especially in there. And, never forget that once we leave this plane all of our words and actions will be examined.”

“You mean you think they might be watching our room?” How could he even think of indulging in sex if someone was keeping an eye?

“Don’t tell me an audience freaks you out.” The sultry look in his eye told her it didn’t bother him one bit. On the contrary, she’d wager it turned him on.

“It’s just I—
”

“
You know what, you talk too much,” he muttered before drawing her into his arms and plastering his lips over hers. Forget arguing. He had a point. And she let him make it until the pilot reminded them minutes later—too quickly for them to get more than a few dozen hungry licks and nibbles in—that they would be landing in just a few moments.

Brushing his thumb over her swollen
, well-kissed lower lip, Seth murmured, “We’ll continue this tonight,
wife.
”

She couldn’t help but shiver at the promise. Thankfully she didn’t have time to mull his words, or worry, because they hit the tarmac of the private landing strip, and the charade of their lives began.

Playing the role of vapid trophy wife was easier than expected. She hung onto Seth’s arm and laughed at lame jokes, even those made at her expense. She smiled at him whenever he said something witty. And flushed with heat every time he whispered in her ear,
“I can’t wait to peel you out of that dress and kiss every inch of your gorgeous body”.
Funny, because she couldn’t wait to get him out of his clothes. Seth dressed in a black tie was a treat no woman could resist. Add to that his casual caresses as he led her around, chatting up their hosts, and his promising smiles, was it any wonder she spent the evening in a dreamy daze. If it weren’t for the fact their directive was to kill their host and one of the other guests, it would have seemed like a pleasant, almost fantasy-like vacation.

As it was, their room exceeded the glamour of anything she could have ever afforded. Entering the sumptuous suite, she couldn’t help but run her hand along the silky fabric of the comforter, the richness of the cloth unlike anything she’d ever touched.

“Did you have a pleasant evening, dearest?” Seth asked.

Turning to face him, she caught him pulling off his
black tie. He tossed it onto a gilded chair. Off came his jacket, also to land in a heap on the fancy seat. His fingers went to the buttons on his crisp white shirt. One loop. Two. She swallowed. A few times.
Is it me, or is it hot in here?

Off came the shirt, revealing Seth’s smooth
, muscled chest, a chest she’d seen hundreds of times before during training and sparring. Heck, she’d punched and kicked those abs many a time. What made it different now was that they weren’t trying to outdo each other. For the first time, they were alone—if one discounted any possible cameras watching. It made all the difference because now she saw his body as a playground for fantasy and play. And, boy, did she want to play.

He kicked off his shoes and padded over to her, his socked feet sinking in
to the plush rug. She stood there, frozen and uncertain what she should do.

A
chuckle rumbled from him. “Tired, darling?” He stopped before her and, with a finger, tilted her chin up so her eyes could meet his. “And yet, the night has just begun.”

His hands, capable of such strength and violence, gently slid the straps of her gown off her shoulders, baring them. He leaned his head and kiss
ed the exposed skin, the soft brush of his breath, the bristly shadow covering his jaw, abrading her skin. She shivered.

“Shouldn’t we rest to be in fine form for tomorrow’s activities?” Anyone watching would assume she meant the planned excursion
to watch a polo match. In reality, she referred to their mission.

S
eth brushed her concern aside. “Our presence isn’t required until after lunch. Plenty of time to recover.”

Any thought of protesting died with his kiss.
Gently, he pressed his mouth to hers, softly, and yet the urgency and fire coursing through her was anything but tame. Wild. Desperate. Needful.

The kiss went from a gentle exploration to fierce assault, probably because her hands clutched at him, the nails digging into his skin as she sought to draw him closer to her, to feel the hardness of his body blending with hers.

Her dress ended up in a rumpled heap around her ankles, leaving her clad in only a strapless bra and panties. Neither of the flimsy lace accoutrements lasted more than a moment at his hands. Scraps went flying, and then she felt herself falling back until she hit the silky comforter with a small bounce.

Seth shed his pants before joining her, his
heavier body covering hers, the hot, hard length of his cock, trapped between them. Their mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongue as they hungrily devoured each other. There was no holding back now. No one, nothing to stop them.

The weeks and months of sensual teasing, the inability to do more than simple petting caught up
, and they both reacted savagely, passionately in the quest to finally consummate the lust they’d denied for so long. She threaded her fingers in his short blond hair while her tongue curled and stroked along his.

The tip of his cock nudged at the apex of her legs, begging for entrance, but she wasn’t quite done with him yet. He wasn’t the only one who’d dreamed of this moment. Who’d
fantasized.

“Lie on your back,” she said between panting breaths and
sensual tugs at his lips.

She didn’t have to ask twice. In between one heartbeat and the next, she straddled him, and oh how she reveled in the position of dominance.
To be the one in control. Over him. Over the moment.

Down she slid the length of his body
, ignoring his gasped, “What are you doing?”

As if she’d tell him. Let him guess. Let him anticipate. H
er hands skimmed his thighs, fingertips dancing on his skin as she went after her prize. Scooping him, she cupped his heavy sac and kneaded it, a sly smile curving his lips as his head went back and his eyes closed.

The perfect image of a man enjoying a moment of bliss.
But she was planning more than just a massage of his balls. Forward she leaned, the ends of her hair brushing his skin as her mouth latched onto the tip of his shaft. His hips bucked, but she held on as she licked him, tasting the saltiness of his excitement.

B
athing his cock with her tongue, she explored the length of him, from the mushroom cap down the edged rib then back up again. She swirled her tongue. He cried out. She took him into her mouth and sucked, hard enough to hollow her cheeks, hard enough that he bucked again, hard enough that he pulsed and almost came in her mouth.

The thickness of his cock excited her.
The thought of it, all of it, sinking into her, stretching her,
oh god.
She couldn’t help but shudder, and her pussy trembled, wet and ready to take him, a fantasy she might have to forget if she didn’t stop sucking him.

With a final lick, she released his shaft and
straddled him. The swollen head of his cock poked at her damp cleft. Forget further teasing. She sat down.

This time, she was the one to cry out. The hands she’d braced on his chest
dug into his skin, and her head went back far enough the tips of her hair tickled her spine. Impaled on his thick length, she didn’t move but spent a moment enjoying the feel of him inside her, how he stretched her and filled her so completely. His cock pulsed inside her, a little twitch that sent a pleasurable jolt and spurred her into motion. Back and forth she rocked, pushing him deep, squeezing him tight, meshing their bodies so close that an observer would have been hard-pressed to know where one began and the other ended.

Her orgasm hovered, that tightness inside
waiting to explode. As the pleasure consumed her, she lost her rhythm and whimpered.