Darr

by Theresa Beachman

  “Good morning.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat, and she turned in the direction of the deep male voice.

  Darr was behind her.

  She clutched her arms across her bare breasts, heat blossoming across her frozen cheeks.

  How long had he been there?

  He wore the green army surplus jacket they’d found in the rear of the jeep. It was unzipped and hanging loose, exposing the lean lines of his abdomen and the dark hair tracking south from his navel to…desire bloomed in Violet’s belly despite the winter air.

  Hunger radiated off him in waves as he devoured the sight of her, his expression wolfish as he held out her clothes and boots. “I’ve already seen it all, V.”

  “Yes. Well.” Damn him. Violet licked her lips and let her hands drop to her sides. There were many women more beautiful than her, but she was proud of her body. It was strong and supple and made her feel good. Especially with Darr.

  A flash of him, buried deep inside her, her heels hooked to the small of his back, holding him close while the storm raged outside the hospital flickered through her mind, depriving her of any smart comeback. Her heart still thundered from the cold water, but his presence prevented any deceleration.

  Standing in the morning dawn, the silence of a dead world surrounding them, Darr made her greedy, made her want things she’d never thought could be hers. “Can I have my clothes?”

  He placed them in her hands, tilting his head in blatant appreciation. A lock of his dark hair fell over his face, and her fingers itched to sweep it from those midnight eyes.

  Instead, she pulled on her underwear, her dress. Then she sat on a rock and tied her laces, her bare legs scorched from his scrutiny. Finally, she was dressed. She faced him. “You need a haircut.”

  “Never had anyone to do it for me.”

  “You should make an effort. For my brother. Make a good impression.”

  Darr quirked an eyebrow. “Might be a bit late for that.”

  His gaze continued to stroke up and down her body in slow, lazy licks that threatened to steal her breath away. “You can cut it when we get back to the Command Base.” He took a deliberate step toward her, his eyes darkening.

  Violet held her ground, her body temperature escalating from cool to molten in a split second.

  Darr closed the gap between them in a long stride, backing her up against a tree trunk. He shucked off his jacket and swept it around her body, tugging her arms into the sleeves. Thick fleece padding enveloped her arms, warming her skin to match the temperature in her core. She raked her hands down the curve of his biceps, appreciating the defined muscles of his forearms. Gorgeous and strong and all hers.

  He grabbed the collar of the jacket and yanked her up onto the tips of her toes, pulling her close, his body hardening in response to her submission.

  He kissed her, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, tasting her, while his strong fingers tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck. He eased her head back, giving himself full access. As his tongue and teeth tracked down the line of her throat, a small groan escaped from deep within him, spearing heat between her legs.

  She slid her hands around his waist as his hands released her collar and slipped under the warmth of the jacket and down her hips. Warm fingers caught the hem of her dress and tugged it up to her waist.

  Tingles exploded across her belly. “This is crazy.”

  “You drive me crazy,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, his fingers brushing across her navel and skating around the edge of her underwear, before slipping past the lace and cupping her with his broad palm.

  Her head hit rough bark, tipping back as he slid a finger through her soft folds and inside her. Her breath stalled as she pressed back into the tree, her knees softening.

  “Hot here,” he muttered, his voice thick.

  Violet gasped as his mouth found her earlobe, nipping and sucking, while his fingers worked dark, dirty magic between her legs. The stress of the last twenty-four hours loosened under his onslaught, the tension in her ribcage dissipating, her shoulders dropping. Pleasure surged through her, wiping away all the blood and the death.

  And more. She was with Darr. She wasn’t alone anymore.

  She ground her hips into his touch, the hard prod of his cock digging into her flank.

  “Cassy and Fiona?” she panted, her thoughts scattering. All she could focus on was the slow slide of his fingers moving deep inside her.

  “Asleep.”

  His touch became more forceful, stretching her, driving her higher. She gripped his shoulders to stay upright, her tenuous control of her body dissolving.

  His gaze caught hers. His eyes were dark and intense, burning with desire. For her.

  Violet closed her eyes, submerging herself in his embrace, and let go.

  44

  Blood pounded in Darr’s ears, lust making his breath catch.

  He cupped Violet’s breast with his free hand, flicking her nipple through the fabric. Small, breathy cries tumbled from her lips, driving him crazy as he promised himself that later, he’d explore every inch of those nipples with his teeth and tongue.

  His hands shook as he growled in her ear. “I didn’t know if I would make it out of the Box but I promised myself if I did, I would never let you go.”

  He kissed her neck, grazing her skin with his teeth. As he held her in his arms, losing himself, he marveled at her, this woman who made him lose control, who made him want more.

  Despite her strength and attitude, she felt so fragile, her small grazed hand tracing the line of his cheek then traveling lower, stroking his erection. He groaned. She undid him in every way.

  Despite the relentless winter cold, she was hot and slick where his fingers teased and stroked. He worked her hard, watching pleasure rush across her cheeks and hearing the small gasps as her hips bucked against his hand. He teased the smooth nub of her clitoris, grazing the tender flesh with the calloused pad of his thumb, caging her against the tree trunk as she arched into him, her beautiful mouth falling open as she surrendered to his touch. All his.

  Her body clamped around his fingers. She was panting now.

  “Look at me, V.”

  Her eyes snapped open at his command. Surrounded by deep emerald green, her pupils dilated with arousal as he continued to drive her. He pushed back the hood of her clitoris, working her with short, quick strokes, before he gently pinched the sensitive bud, making her cry out.

  He brushed a curl from her face, dropping his forehead to hers, binding himself to the damp sheen of her skin.

  Memories flashed through his mind. Violet kicking him to the floor in the Command Base then pressing her gun to his throat. Violet threatening to kill him while she lay trapped and injured in a burning van with a half-dead Chittrix.

  She’d asked him to come back to the Command Base with her, telling him he could stay. That she would help him work it out, help him gain control over his ability. She’d said all those things even when she’d seen the darkness within him.

  Easy she was not, but everything he needed and wanted, she was.

  She arched her hips, her body not just welcoming him but asking for more as she rode his hand.

  “Darr.” Her voice wavered, needy and ripe.

  He whispered in her ear and curled his fingers inside her, bringing her to him. “Come for me.”

  Her nails raked his back. The breathless look on her face, the rose color on the apple of her cheeks—he was lost to her. Nothing had ever felt as right as this.

  One last, firm stroke across her clitoris and she cried out, splintering under his touch in gasping waves, her body slamming down on his hand like a velvet glove as she gave herself up to him. Darr had never seen anything more perfect or beautiful. He kissed her eyelids, tasting sweat and the tang of river water as she sagged against him.

  “God, I want to be inside you,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Yes.” Her voice was husky with sex. “Please.”


  He trailed kisses down her neck, inhaling her scent of flowers, supporting her as she relaxed into his arms. His cock was painful and engorged, hungry for this beautiful woman.

  A young voice echoed through the still air.

  “Fiona.” He groaned and pushed away from Violet, tugging the coat around her body still flushed pink from his touch and enjoyed a last, fleeting glance of her slender legs. “Not here. When we’re safe. Clean sheets, just you and me.” He fisted his hands through her hair and kissed her full on the mouth, the musky scent of her on his fingers shooting a direct arrow to his groin. He repressed a moan and forced himself to take a step back.

  There would be plenty more of this to come. This was the woman he wanted to cherish.

  She rested for a moment against the tree trunk, watching him. Her hair was a sexy, disheveled mess, her lips swollen and pink. The large army jacket was too big for her, her bare legs peeking out the bottom.

  Darr closed his eyes, willing his body back under control. When he opened them again, he scraped his hands through his hair, grounding himself back in reality.

  Violet approached him, laced her fingers through his, and shot him a mischievous smile.

  His heart clenched at how her face lit up just for him. “How did I get so damn lucky?”

  She grinned and touched his temple, her gaze meeting his, green like the ocean on a summer’s day. “That makes two of us.”

  45

  Mathew wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clinking the half-full beer bottle against the steering wheel. He tapped the glass against the cheap plastic, idly counting the chinks. He paused and rubbed his gritty eyes. He was waiting for them to break camp and get back on the road. It was still early—only a few straggly birds made pitiful calls from bare branches in the feeble sunlight.

  He couldn’t see their camp from here, only thin tendrils of smoke from their fire. Their jeep was hidden in the forest, just like he was hidden from them, his car parked behind scrubby bushes. A small gap between the branches provided a narrow viewpoint, enough for him to monitor the situation but remain concealed.

  He’d tracked them last night from the Box. They’d been lucky with a head start, but not enough to lose him completely.

  He was good at this shit.

  He’d never been good at anything before the aliens had wiped out the world a year ago, but he’d found his niche now.

  Tracking.

  Hunting.

  Killing.

  He stretched and spat out the window. He would wait. Revenge oozed through his veins, warming him despite the winter chill. He’d dealt with Judge every day for the past six months. If he could tolerate that bastard, he could do anything. Judge had never understood his true capabilities and instead had kept him like a dog on a tight leash.

  He’d let that delusion continue, let Judge think he was in control. The easiest way to control your enemy—make them think they were in charge. For a time, it served him well. Judge had put a roof over his head and provided women, food, and beer when he needed it. It had been a fair trade.

  He allowed himself a small, satisfied grin that Judge was dead. He’d been approaching breaking point with him anyway. Darr had done him a favor by getting rid of the man.

  But Mathew would have preferred a less abrupt change in circumstances. Being homeless and living in a car was a pain. But it was all temporary. There was better to come. He knew it. They weren’t aimlessly wandering down this road. They were going somewhere, and they would lead him right to the bounty.

  All of them would give it up to him. The tall, dark-haired freak that had something going on with the Chittrix. The mouthy brunette with the kid, and the redhead with the curls and the kickass butt. She was his. Oh yes. He closed his eyes and savored the thought of holding the redhead down and ripping the dress from her body.

  He downed another gulp of lukewarm beer. His tongue worried a loose tooth in the back of his jaw and coppery blood leaked into his mouth. His hand throbbed in time with his pulse. Escaping the Box had cost him. But Darr would to repay him in full, Mathew would make sure of it.

  First, he needed to focus, to keep them in his sights. His stomach growled, hunger pangs shooting through his gut. He ignored them. Ignored the dried blood on his knuckles and the throb of pain from his battered hips where he’d thrown himself behind another man, offering the stupid fool up to the gaping maws of the Chittrix.

  Everyone had seriously underestimated him, and it had cost them all.

  It was the story of his life. Except it didn’t apply anymore, because when you weren’t looking, Mathew would screw you over one hundred and twenty percent. He allowed himself a chuckle and burped a beery breath.

  No fucking way he was going to roll over and let some Chittrix gut him or some loser and his soldier girlfriend take the piss out of him. No doubt they were down there all happy and fucking smug, thinking they’d made it out alive, and he was dead.

  They were wrong.

  Again.

  He’d been so near too, almost getting the women at the entrance when Darr had been out of it in some alien-induced funk. So fucking close. He could almost taste the redhead, feel how hot and slick she’d be when he took her and made Darr watch.

  He bent and scratched crusty blood from his ankle, the shift of his feet disturbing dust from the filthy carpet.

  He had nowhere to go and nothing to do, except watch and wait. He was in for the long haul.

  For revenge. And more. Definitely more.

  Mathew grinned, his lips curling back from broken teeth.

  He was a patient man.

  I hope you enjoyed Darr and Violet’s story! Have you read the book where they first met—SAWYER? Read on for a taste or buy it here:

  Sawyer: Earth Resistance Book 2

  SAWYER

  Because there’s no time for love in the apocalypse…

  Ben Sawyer is a man of morals, driven by conflict and haunted by a dark past, where doing the right thing came at high personal cost.

  Following an attack on her lab, he helps weapons engineer Julia Simmons across the alien infested landscape of London to the safety of the underground Command Base. Safe for the moment, Sawyer falls hard for her brilliant mind and dangerous curves.

  Struggling to come to terms with Earth’s devastation, completing her newest weapon gives Julia hope and purpose. But, her decision leaves her no time for a relationship. She makes Sawyer promise they won’t fall in love, because there’s no time for love in the apocalypse, right?

  Still fighting his own demons and believing himself beyond redemption, Sawyer agrees to Julia’s terms—physical comfort without emotional entanglement.

  However, events escalate and an unexpected alien mutation threatens the very heart of the previously impenetrable base. Even if they can survive the dangers closing in on them, Julia and Sawyer may not survive each other’s dark secrets.

  The question then becomes, who will be the first to admit to love?

  SAWYER is a standalone romance that is the second of the Earth Resistance Series.

  Preview - Earth Resistance Book 2: SAWYER

  The Chittrix twisted its thickly-scaled neck, tilting its head as it sensed easy prey. It loomed above Julia Simmons, ten feet of exquisitely evolved, alien killing machine, seven-foot barbed tail pounding concrete dust from the road in agitation. Shards of needle-like teeth snapped eagerly, its black forked tongue tasting the scent of her fear in the air. Its jaw released like a trap door, gaping wide, the ropy tendons bunching and lengthening.

  Fear locked Julia’s joints, as long, clawed digits stretched and rotated at an impossible angle to close around her wrist. The steel grip crushed the knife from her hand, sending it clattering between her feet. Responding to the nearness of an easy kill, a second set of lower forearms unfurled like lethal anemones from the protective curl of its abdomen.

  The Chittrix’s grip tightened and the fine bones of her hand grated against each other as it, hooked her f
lat against its glossy exoskeleton. Julia struggled, her nostrils seared with the acrid scent of soil and blood. Crushing panic surged through her body, and she bucked hard, twisting to free herself from the obsidian nightmare. She kicked but the thick haunches were spread too far for her boots to connect, and its grip tightened as she thrashed. Its head twisted, preparing to unleash lethal damage and then—

  A blaring cacophony.

  High-pitched alarm notes pierced her skull and sleep-muddled brain. She jerked, causing her cheap metal chair to topple, pain exploding through her temple as she collided with the floor. Air wheezed from her stunned lungs as she lay crumpled, hands stinging from hitting the table leg on the way down.

  She gasped as terror flooded her body. Rolling onto her side, she freed herself from the fallen chair, her hands and feet still uncoordinated as she scrambled to the wall, seeking protection. In front of her, a laptop sat on the table, digits scrolling furiously across the flashing red screen.

  Blood pounded in her ears as she tried to slow her breathing, her head whipping around the room, searching for the Chittrix of her dreams. She clutched a micro-soldering iron in her fist, brandishing it in front of her like a weapon.

  I’m alone.

  Her head dropped in exhaustion.

  Just another nightmare.

  Her sleep hadn’t been peaceful for many years, but now the night terrors of old shared the space in her head with the Chittrix. She rubbed her sore, gritty eyes. She couldn’t remember when she’d last slept in peace or for more than a few hours at a time. Her body sagged, and she rested her head on the cold floor, gathering herself. She waited for the world to disappear and leave her alone, but the whooping wail of the alarm continued.

  The laptop.

  Fuck.