by D. Laine
“During training,” I gushed. “It wasn’t—”
“Face is off-limits, Thea,” Jake supplied. He grimaced at something that happened behind me before continuing. “That’s one line we’re not supposed to cross with each other. Ergot knew better.”
“Oh.” I turned around in time to witness Tanner take a viscous hit from Dylan’s fist. To the ribs, not the face. Over my shoulder, I whispered, “You flipped a coin?”
“It was either that or we fought over who got to fight Tanner.” Jake grinned. “Flipping a coin made more sense.”
“Of course.” I doubted I would ever understand how guys reached decisions like that.
My gaze fixed on Dylan as he sparred with Tanner. Seeing him in action was surreal. I thought I had seen it already—when we were on the run and occasionally encountered tags. That didn’t compare to what I saw now.
For one thing, we had used guns, not our bodies, and the danger had been too real to appreciate the finesse of Dylan’s actions. Watching his controlled, lithe movements now was so much hotter than I expected it to be.
A quick glance around the circle of gathered assassins confirmed I wasn’t the only one appreciating the show. Most of the girls shared matching looks of awe. Some glanced at me with disdain; some with curiosity. All of them portrayed their surprise that Dylan was standing up for me.
When it was all over, Tanner got the message. The other assassins dispersed when Dylan stepped off the mat and approached Jake and me. He spared a glance in Tanner’s direction as he wobbled off to mend his wounded ego.
“Guess he doesn’t want to train anymore,” Dylan smirked.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked. “I haven’t learned enough—”
“You haven’t learned shit from him anyway,” Dylan interjected.
“I’ll teach you some stuff,” Jake volunteered.
I split a look between the two of them. “Really? You?”
“Yeah. One of us has to, and better me than him.” Jake pointed to Dylan.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I can—” Dylan glanced at me. If he felt even a fraction of the attraction I felt for him right now, he would know the answer to his own question. He quickly nodded his head when he realized that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“I usually am.” Jake smirked.
Dylan bent down to whisper in my ear. “Watch his feet. That’s his tell. When he stops dancing around, he’s about to strike.”
With a parting slap on the back for Jake, and a wink for me, Dylan left. He settled somewhere across the room with a handful of other assassins. Though I knew he was behind me, possibly watching, I turned to Jake with squared shoulders.
“Ready when you are.”
The smile Jake gave me carried a hint of danger. For the first time since I met my twin brother, he scared me a little bit. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
THOUGH I HAD STARTED off the afternoon disliking Jake almost as much as I disliked Tanner, by the end of the afternoon I realized I had learned more from him in three hours than I had learned from Tanner in a week. He even let me try out a few weapons—something Tanner had refused to do.
At four o’clock, Jake dropped the tough trainer charade.
“You got the raw talent for this,” he informed me as I gathered some of the supplies we had used.
“Really?”
He nodded vigorously. “Tomorrow we’ll work more on offensive maneuvers and combat procedures that we use in the field. There’s a lot of strategy you need to catch up on, but I’m not worried about that stuff as much, because you’ll have me and Dylan with you. I want to make sure you can handle yourself out there . . . and I think you can.”
“Think Spence will agree?” My eyes widened at the thought. Not because I was scared—okay, maybe a little—but because I was eager to get out there and fight back. I wanted to contribute.
“Not yet. But soon.” Jake placed a hand on my shoulder. “For now, you need to work on your endurance. It’ll come in handy more than strength in the field. Trust me.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Treadmill.” Jake nodded once as if his word was final. “Tomorrow morning. Put in a good hour and I’ll meet you here after.”
“In other words, you want to sleep in an extra hour.”
He flashed me a grin. “I’m not the one who needs the training.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled as I started toward the storage room with the supplies.
Jake followed me with a few pads, but stopped halfway when an agent approached him. I couldn’t hear what the guy said, but I saw the frown on Jake’s lips deepen.
He nodded once at the agent then turned to me. “I’m sorry. Spence wants to talk to me.”
“It’s fine. I can finish up.”
Jake dropped the pads with a promise to catch up with me at dinner, and left with the unnamed agent. The storage room wasn’t far, and I quickly returned everything to their proper places before returning for the pads. They had their own shelf on the wall, and were organized according to size. After sorting them, I turned to make what I hoped would be my last trip. I ground to a halt when Dylan breezed through the door behind me.
“This is the last of it.” He unceremoniously dumped everything he carried on the floor in the corner.
“Aren’t we supposed to—”
His eyes found mine. “Since when do I follow the rules?”
“That would be never,” I muttered under my breath as he shut the door behind him.
A heavy weight of apprehension settled in my chest when he stepped farther into the small room. He didn’t look at me, but the contemplative look on his face suggested that he had something to say to me. I felt as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room while I waited to hear it.
“There was one thing I told you about myself that wasn’t a lie. I am from Utah.” His steps were slow as he crossed the room in my direction. “I was born in this little town not far from Salt Lake City. My dad had trained as an assassin. His generation didn’t have the threat of an apocalypse, so he was released to go create little assassins. My mom found out at some point what we were.”
I stepped back in search of the wall, and the sense of security it offered, while Dylan continued his approach. There was something dangerous about him right now. Something primal. He reminded me of a caged lion.
What did that make me? The prey?
My pulse skyrocketed when I realized that I was trapped in here with him. Not because he frightened me, but because he excited me. My skin tingled with nervous excitement as he drew steadily closer.
“I found out what I was when I was twelve,” he continued quietly. “A week after I got the speech from my dad, I was sent to the agency. I’m an assassin.” A wry smile crossed his face when he shrugged. “That’s really all I’ve ever known, and I thought I knew who I was and what I represented . . . up until about two months ago.”
His eyes finally met mine and my breath hitched at the intensity I saw in them.
“I got sent on a mission to this little town in the middle of nowhere, and some fiery brunette crashed into my life. I never saw her coming. She took everything I knew and turned it on its head. And now, I’m just trying to figure me out again. Because I think I forgot somewhere along the way.”
He finally stepped close enough for me to touch. I lightly pressed a hand to his chest, and felt his heart pounding as rapidly as mine. “She sounds kind of awesome.”
An amused snorting noise vibrated from Dylan’s throat. With one hand, he pushed aside a chunk of hair that had come free of my hair tie. “Problem is I never thought I was worthy of someone like her.”
“Why would you think that?” I whispered.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m a screw up. I don’t—” He broke off with a humorless laugh and a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t take things seriously, and I especially don’t let myself get attached . . . to anyone.”
“Is this y
our way of trying to talk me out of wanting this?”
“This?” His eyes held mine with an intensity that weakened my knees. “What exactly is this anyway?”
“I don’t know.” I had no easy answer to that question. I supposed we were both unsure of what was going on between us, or where it was going. Why did it need a label anyway? Couldn’t we just enjoy it? Instead of answering, I shrugged. “I just want to know you.”
“Know me?” He pressed his solid frame against me, caging me between him and the wall, with a sigh. “There are some things I don’t like to talk about.”
I suspected these things had something to do with the questions I had pondered lately. Where was his twin? Why had he been partnered with Jake? Though I was curious, especially if that part of his past had molded him into who he was today, I accepted his reluctance to share it.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to tell you.” His warm breath fanned my neck. Then he nipped at my earlobe. “Someday.”
My legs trembled as I ran my hands over his shoulders. It was getting harder to focus on his words and not on the sensation of his scruff scratching my skin as his lips skimmed my neck. When he shifted to give equal attention to the other side, I gladly angled my head to give him easy access.
“I have flaws,” he murmured into my ear. “Lots of them.”
“We all have flaws,” I pointed out breathlessly. “Quit trying to talk me out of wanting this.”
His head shook fractionally. Raw pain was visible in his eyes when they lifted to meet mine. “This is my way of being bluntly honest with you, and hoping you’ll still want me despite everything. You just have to tell me what you want. I’ll do it. I might screw it up, because that’s what I do. I screw good things up. But I’ll try not to. Just tell me what you—”
“Dylan.” I grabbed his face in both hands. The vulnerability I glimpsed in him in that moment nearly crushed my heart. There was only one thing I wanted to ask of him right now. “Kiss me.”
“What?” His head shook in confusion.
“All I want from you right now is for you to kiss me. So do it. Kiss—”
His mouth crushed mine, silencing me with the hard and punishing kiss I had asked for. The force drove me into the wall, causing me to see stars. Or it could have just been my natural reaction to what he did to me, because my skin burned and nerve endings sparked to life from a sudden rush of ecstasy only he managed to unleash. My arms snaked around his neck to clutch him tight as his tongue parted my lips greedily.
With his hands braced against the wall on either side of me, he didn’t touch me. Not like I wanted him to. My arms dropped to slip around his waist and I gave a tug. A noise rumbled from his chest as he gave in to my request. His arousal was evident when his hips ground against mine. His fingers entwined in my hair to yank my head back, forcing me to open more for him.
He took all I had to give, and gave me himself in the process. Gone was the uncertainty that had plagued me for weeks. In its place slid everything I remembered from our too brief of a time together before. And then some.
He was the same. But not the same.
He gripped me like he starved for me. He overwhelmed me with the raw power behind his touch. His physical demands left me weak-kneed and windless.
A gruff noise came out of his mouth as he slid his lips down my neck, finally enabling me the opportunity to gasp for air. Suddenly, a kiss was no longer enough. I wanted so much more.
“Is that door locked?” I panted.
He mumbled a response against my partially bare shoulder. “What do you think?”
That sneaky devil. Hell, right now I didn’t care if this was premeditated or not.
My hands flew to the waistband of his pants. He ripped the top over my head before I could make any progress with the snap. I distinctly heard the sound of tearing fabric when my sports bra followed a second later. Neither of us paused to inspect the damage before it fell to the floor.
Half naked now, I resumed my flustered attempts at removing his pants. But when his head lowered to flick his tongue over one of my nipples, I faltered. He teased with languid strokes before taking me into his mouth. I might have crashed to the floor if not for his arm tightening around me.
When I tried again to relieve him of his pants, and failed, he took matters into his own hands. Swatting my inept fingers to the side, he undid his own snap. The sound of the zipper coming down filled me with nervous anticipation.
He was going to take me right here, right now, against the wall in the supply closet. The thought was equally horrifying and thrilling. I had never done anything like this—ever—but I had never needed a man like I needed him now. My thighs trembled from the ache of that need. I no longer cared where, or how, he took it away. Only when.
Because it needed to be now.
I greedily pulled his boxer briefs over his hips, just low enough for him to spring free. I stroked him in my hand as he tugged my bottoms down. His hands tightened around my hips, his fingers digging into my sensitive flesh, as he hoisted me up. I held on to his neck for dear life as my legs wrapped around his waist. He pressed against me, thick and hard and ready. And bare.
“They gave you that implant, right?” he grunted.
“What?”
“The implant,” he repeated hastily. “For birth control. Please tell me they—”
“Oh, that?” The damn thing they insisted on sticking in my arm after I got here. “Yeah, I got it.”
He stared at me, one brow raised with a silent question. I knew he would stop if I told him to. I would also probably cry if he did.
“It’s okay,” I breathed. “I don’t want you to st—”
The word gave way to a gasp as he lowered me onto him. My back arched as he invaded me with a long and smooth thrust. I was ready for him, but it was almost too much. And it had been so long. He captured the cry on my lips with his mouth, silencing me as he stretched and filled me. Once buried, he stilled to sweep my mouth with his tongue.
“You okay?” he mumbled against my lips.
I whimpered something that sounded close enough to a yes to satisfy him.
When he moved again, he did so with a controlled movement that pushed him even deeper. Then again, deeper. My fingers clawed at his shoulders, curving around the muscle taught with restraint. He found places I never knew existed. Already the familiar bundle grew and twisted in my core.
I couldn’t believe how incredible everything felt. I couldn’t believe we were doing this without a condom. I couldn’t believe that, in this moment, I didn’t care.
“Holy fuck, you feel so good.” His face pressed into my neck, and his voice and body shook from his attempt to hold back as he rocked into me.
Why was he holding back?
“Let go,” I breathed.
A tortured noise escaped his mouth. His head shook once, then he lifted his head up to peer at me. “I’m trying to savor you.”
The bundle knotted at his words, and Dylan groaned as I tightened around him. He rocked into me harder, pushing me nearly to the point of shattering. I was close. So close.
My fingers dug into his shoulders pleadingly. “You can savor me later.”
Making a noise that sounded like a growl, he dropped me to the floor. I stood—mostly trembled—in stunned silence for a moment before he spun me around. My hands splayed against the wall as he grabbed my shoulders and entered me again.
One of his hands came up to cover my mouth as he wedged himself deeper. Faster. Relentless. My fingers gripped the wall for balance. On some level, I realized nothing but a door separated us from a roomful of assassins, and his hand didn’t block half the sounds coming out of my mouth.
The pleasure built, eclipsing all sense of awareness outside of this tiny room. Then his other hand slipped around my hip to send me careening over the edge. My entire world went black. Seconds later, it came crashing back with a burst of senses.
Dylan’s mouth on my shoulder, hi
s teeth lightly biting into my skin; his own release at the end of a final punishing thrust; his strength enveloping me to keep gravity from pulling me to the floor; and finally his thick voice in my ear sending an aftershock of pleasure down my spine.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
It was the surprising element of tenderness in those words, audible in his tone, that nearly undid me. Again.
A smile graced my lips when I rolled my head toward him. Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t return anything but the truth—as difficult as it might be for him to believe.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
16
DYLAN
“You ripped my bra.”
I finished tugging on my pants before glancing over my shoulder. Thea stood fully dressed from the waist down, fingering the tear in the strap that went over her shoulder with a small frown. She didn’t see my grin.
“Wish I could say I was sorry,” I replied.
She directed the frown at me briefly before slipping on her shirt. Once fully dressed, she leaned against the wall with a sigh to wait for me since I was in no particular hurry. Or maybe she wasn’t either, because she looked all kinds of relaxed resting there with her eyes closed.
Either that or she was just really, really satisfied.
“You alright over there?” I prodded as I snatched up my shirt.
“Never been better.” Her lips curved. “I’m just not so sure I should try walking yet.”
“Hmm.” Not that my ego needed to hear that, but I sure liked it. “Still not sorry.”
I rolled the shirt down over my abs as I turned toward her. I stroked her cheek with my knuckles, admiring the softness of her skin. Her lips were warm and welcoming when I followed with a kiss.
If it weren’t for the half dozen assassins who had seen me walk in here, I would barricade us in this storage room forever. I would insist on spending the majority of our time naked, of course. My hips ground against hers at the mere thought, the memory of what we had just done still very fresh in my mind. Another minute or two of kissing her and we wouldn’t leave the room for a while.
