by Cynthia Eden
Did she understand just what she meant to him? Maybe it was time to stop pretending. Just tell her everything. Before it was too late.
“I stayed in D.C. because you were there.” He’d known staying was risky.
Her eyes widened.
“If you leave, I’ll leave. I’ll go wherever you want. Because you see…” He tried to smile for her. He wasn’t sure how that smile turned out. “You might think that my emotions got shot to hell and back, but it’s not completely true. I don’t just feel dark emotions. That’s bullshit. I feel more. So much more, and it’s because of you.”
Her brows rose. “Flynn?”
“The first time I saw you, something happened to me. I walked into your office, took one look at you, and knew you were the only thing I’d ever want.”
She shook her head. “You—you were being kept in near captivity, you didn’t know—”
“I knew I wanted you, and it wasn’t long before I knew I loved you.”
Cecelia took a step back. “No, Flynn, no.”
“Yes, Cecelia, yes.” Did she think he didn’t know his own emotions? He was damaged, but he wasn’t insane. “I stayed in this area because of you. Because when I’m close to you, I’m at peace. When you smile at me, it doesn’t matter that I don’t have a past. When you laugh, I can be happy, at least for a little while. And I think of ways to try and make you laugh again. I think of ways to convince you that you should give me a chance.”
She was shaking her head. He was screwing this up, and he had to fix it. He had to prove to her that what he felt was real.
“Displacement,” Cecelia whispered. “It happens. Patients get fixated on their psychiatrists, they—”
“I’m fixated. Sure, use that word if you want. Call me obsessed.”
Once more, she shook her head. She shoved her hands behind her back.
“Or maybe…maybe you can say I love you. Because that’s what I call it. Love. I want to make things right for you. I want to make the world better. I didn’t know why in the hell I’d been brought back to life, not until I went into your office.”
“Flynn…”
“I saw you, and I knew right away—she’s the reason. My whole body seemed tuned just to you. Primitive instinct? Who the fuck knows? I only know I wanted you to be mine.” He advanced toward her.
She retreated, circling around until the back of her legs bumped into the bed.
“And I wanted to be yours.” His voice was too rough. He needed to soothe her. To charm her. But that was all beyond him. He only had his truth to give her. No secrets. “I decided to wait, as long as it took, for you. If you didn’t want to be my lover, then I was just going to be your friend, your protector. But, sweetheart, you’re the one who protected me today. You saved our asses.”
“I killed a man. I thought he was my friend, I thought he was someone I could trust.” She stared at him with her stark gaze. “I’m supposed to read people, but I didn’t know he was lying to me. How can I trust myself? How can I trust anything?”
“Do you trust me?” And that was the question that he’d wanted answered for so long.
He prepared for her denial. He’d just said he loved her, and she was staring at him in shock. He’d picked the wrong freaking moment, Flynn got that. But there was too much danger. She had to know how he felt. If he’d been taken from her, if she’d been hurt, if she’d died, and he’d never told her…
No. No. Life wasn’t for holding back. Life was for grabbing tight to what you wanted—to the person you wanted most—and saying screw it to everything else.
“I trust you.” She smiled, but then her smile was gone in the next moment. Too fleeting. Her voice dropped as she said, “I…trust you so much that even if I’d known the tranq was going to kill Mark, I still would have fired. Because you matter to me. He wasn’t taking you from me.”
When she said ‘I trust you’, did she realize that the words sure felt a whole lot like I love you?
“Cecelia…”
“I want you to leave D.C. Leave Virginia. Leave this whole area.”
He took that hit right to the heart. “I can’t, not yet, not until Bryce is eliminated.” She wanted him gone? Shit. Shit. He couldn’t—
“We’re going to find him. We’re going to stop Bryce. But after that, you can’t stay here for me. You have to leave so you can be safe.”
His whole body tightened. “Will you come with me?” Because what if another Mark was out there, what if someone else was out there, waiting to attack her?
“Kiss me again, Flynn.”
Her voice was so sensual when she spoke.
His head lowered toward her. His lips were a breath from hers.
“Kiss me,” she said again. “Make love to me. Not just my pleasure this time. Yours. Ours.” Her hands were on his chest again. “I need that, okay? I need you.”
He needed her. And he wasn’t a damn fool that had to be told twice. He took her mouth. Kissed her slowly at first, trying to charm, trying to seduce. Her hands were soft and hot against his skin.
Cecelia gave a little moan in the back of her throat, the sound pure and total temptation. He loved her moans. Loved her sighs.
If she wanted the oblivion of pleasure, he’d give it to her. He’d give her anything she wanted. Everything.
Because she was everything to him.
His hands curled under the edge of her t-shirt. He yanked it up. Tossed it to the floor. She wore another simple white bra, but it was sexy as hell to him. He lifted her up, holding her so easily in his grasp as he pressed a kiss between her breasts. More sweet vanilla cream.
Her legs curled around his hips. His cock was heavy and eager, so freaking eager—for her. He wanted to drive deep and hear Cecelia scream her release. He wanted her nails raking down his back.
He’d get her there, soon enough.
He tumbled her back onto the bed.
Cecelia gave a little gasp because he’d let her go. She stared up at him with wide eyes, but he bent and caught the top of her jeans. He unhooked them, pulled down the zipper, then he took her jeans and her panties off with one, quick yank.
He tugged her to the edge of the bed. Her legs splayed over the side, giving him a perfect view of her. He was going to put his mouth on her, going to taste and take until she was wild for him. He was going to—
She sat up. Her hands went to the top of his jeans. She unhooked the button, pulled down the zipper. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his eager dick bobbed toward her. He stepped back, but she shook her head. “I want to do this.”
“Cecelia—”
She stroked him with her fingers, sliding up and down, and he had to lock his back teeth.
“I want to give you pleasure, too. It’s not just about you giving and giving to me, until nothing is left of you.”
She was pumping his cock and driving him out of his mind.
“I want to give to you.” She slipped off the bed. Stared up at him from her position on her knees. “I realized when I was in that office, when I was afraid Mark was going to take you away…”
What had she realized? Fuck, fuck, what had she—
Her mouth closed over the head of his cock. His eyes squeezed shut. He nearly came right then and there. Flynn locked every muscle in his body. She was licking him. Sucking him so carefully. Stroking him toward complete insanity with her tongue and her hot mouth. And if she kept going, if she licked him again, he was going to be done. He’d come right there, in her sexy mouth.
“No!” He lifted her up, and they fell onto the bed together. Because that was how he wanted it to be—them together. Feeling pleasure together. Living and loving together. His cock drove deep into her. Her legs locked around him as her hips surged toward him. The rhythm was frantic and wild. No holding back. No stopping. No control.
Pleasure. Passion. Lust.
Love?
She held him tight. He held her tighter. When she came, her sex squeezed him with the hot contractions of h
er release. He lifted her legs even higher, opening her even more to him, and he pounded into her. When his climax hit, Flynn groaned her name. Cecelia. His Cecelia. The freaking light that had come into his life at his darkest time.
The light that he’d fight like hell to keep.
***
“Is Willow your real name?” Jay asked as he stared at the screen in front of him. He typically viewed his world through a screen. Computers were life, they were his blood. But this time, watching through the screen—it wasn’t enough.
He wanted to be closer to Willow. He wanted to see the expressions cross her face. He wanted to see if her eyes were really that blue.
“I-I think it’s my name.” Her head was tilted forward, and her long hair covered her shoulders.
There had been the faintest hitch in her voice. Jay rubbed his chest. “Is that because Bryce told you that Willow was your name?”
Her head whipped up. “You know Bryce?”
“I know he’s a dangerous psychopath, and you really shouldn’t trust anything that the guy says to you.”
“He saved me.”
“You sure about that? Because I’d really like to hear your rescue story.” And he meant that with total sincerity.
“Fuck. Off.”
His fingers drummed against the table. Sawyer and West would be back soon. How long did it take to dump a body? He didn’t have experience in that particular area, so…
“I have to get out of here.” Her body surged forward. “I can’t be locked up again.”
“How long were you locked up before?” He needed Cecelia down there for this chat. When it came to psychology, he knew jack and shit. He sent her a quick text. Get your ass down here. Willow seems to be on the verge of freaking out. Since Willow was awake, then he was betting that Flynn was back in the realm of the conscious, too. Cecelia could pry herself away from him and help out. Or she could bring her super soldier shadow with her, whatever worked.
Cecelia didn’t respond right away. Well, shit. Just what could she be doing? Hurry. He texted again.
Willow had stalked closer to the camera. She stared up at the lens, seeming to gaze straight at Jay. He stiffened.
“Do you like watching people?” Willow asked him.
“No, not as a rule.”
“Bryce does. Bryce likes to watch, and he likes to hunt.”
Anger pulsed through him. “Has Bryce hurt you?”
A furrow appeared between her delicate brows. “He saved me.”
“No, baby, he didn’t. Bryce is a twisted killer. He’s murdered at least five women, and saving anyone isn’t on his agenda, he’s—”
“I’m not your baby.” She tilted her head. “We don’t…know each other, do we?”
His breath rushed out. For an instant, she looked uncertain.
“And Bryce…kill women? He…he…” She rubbed her temple. “My head hurts…”
Jay leaned forward. “Are you communicating with him right now? Because if you are—don’t! Don’t let him into your head!” Flynn and Sawyer had told him that when they communicated telepathically with other Lazarus soldiers, they often got headaches. “If you let him into your head, he’ll find out where you are!” And he didn’t want the guy busting in when they weren’t prepared.
He didn’t want Bryce rushing to find them or—
Wait, shit, do I want him here?
Maybe they needed to stop thinking about hunting the bastard. Maybe they should think a whole lot more about luring the killer to them. His mind began to spin with ideas and possibilities.
Yes, yes, that’s what they’d do. They’d lure Bryce to them. They’d be ready for the guy—
Willow sagged to her knees. “Hurts…” she cried out as she clutched her temples. “Hurts so much!”
She sprawled across the floor, and her body began to shudder.
“Willow!” Jay yelled. He shot from his chair and raced to her room. He scanned his hand on the door’s security screen and quickly typed in the entry code. The lock clanged as it released, and he shoved the door open. She was still on the floor, facedown, and he ran to her. With careful hands, he turned her over, pulling her into his arms. “Willow, are you—”
Her eyes opened. His first thought—they were even bluer than he’d realized. So bright.
Second thought…
Oh, damn. I’m in trouble.
She smiled at him. “Thanks for opening the door, and I’m sorry, but I have to kick your ass now.”
He didn’t let her go. Actually, he just kept right on holding her. Mostly because she felt good in his arms and not because he had any desire for an ass kicking. He was truly a whole lot stronger than people realized. Just because he worked with codes and computers all day, it didn’t mean he was a pushover.
“You…you aren’t afraid.” She squinted at him. “And you’re…are you stroking my shoulder?”
“I think of it as more of a caress than a stroke, but, I suppose, yes…”
“Stop it.”
Sighing, he did.
“Let me go.”
He raised his brows. “I thought you were going to kick my ass.”
She licked her lips. Sexy lips. Her bottom lip was a bit plumper than the top.
“Why are you staring at my mouth?”
“Because you’ve got a really beautiful mouth.”
“I can kill you in less than five seconds.”
“Duly noted.” He smiled at her, and he went right on kneeling and holding her. Damn, she felt good in his arms. And that alone should have scared the ever-living-hell out of him. It didn’t. “I don’t want to be your enemy.”
And just like that—her gaze hardened. He’d said the wrong thing. Jay made a mental note that the word enemy was obviously a trigger for her.
“Then you shouldn’t have made me a prisoner.” She yanked out of his arms and leapt to her feet.
Sighing, Jay moved between her and the open door.
“Get out of the way…or I’ll move you.”
He held up his hands. “I don’t have any weapons, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use them on you.”
She laughed.
At the sound, husky and sad, his body stiffened.
“Like I’m supposed to believe what you say.”
“Can’t you tell when I’m lying?” Jay asked, legitimately curious. “I mean, Flynn and Sawyer are pretty much human lie detectors. They can hear a person’s heartbeat accelerate, they can smell sweat, they can hear the hitch of faster breathing—”
“I can do all of that, too.” Her chin lifted.
“Because you were part of Project Lazarus, too? I mean, if you weren’t, having you here would be really embarrassing. But you did attack my friend Cecelia so—”
“Your friend,” she blasted, “had just killed a man. I heard his heart stop.”
“Yes, well, if you heard that, then I’m sure you heard all of the other things he told Cecelia. Like how he was going to burn her…”
She glanced away. “I…did hear that.”
Now some of his admiration for the mysterious Willow…waned. “You heard, and would you have just let her die?”
Her head snapped back toward him. “Why does your voice sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“Deeper. Harder. You’re…mad now. You care about her, this Cecelia?” Her lips thinned. “Men are so easily obsessed. Bryce wants her. Talks about her constantly. And you—”
He took a step toward her, and his hands fisted at his sides. “Let’s be clear here. Bryce King wants to kill Cecelia Gregory. I am her friend. The last thing I want is for her to suffer.” He nodded, determined. “And that’s why you’re not leaving this room. Not until I see if you’re as big of a threat to her as he is—”
She gave a sharp cry and charged at him.
Chapter Thirteen
Flynn stopped Willow before she could do something that couldn’t be reversed—like ripping off Jay’s head. He grabbed Willow and pulled her
back. He trapped her against his body. Her stomach pressed to his chest, and his arms looped around her midriff.
For a moment, Willow didn’t move at all. Shock held her immobile. Then she jerked hard in his arms, and he knew the fight would be—
“Please.” Cecelia hurried toward Willow, skirting around an owlishly blinking Jay. “The last thing I want is some kind of super soldier fight in here. Let’s try talking instead.”
“He locked me up!” Willow yelled. “Trapped me! I can’t be a prisoner again, I can’t—”
Pain flashed on Cecelia’s face. Pain and sympathy. It was so easy for Flynn to read her emotions.
“No,” Cecelia agreed softly. “You wouldn’t want to be trapped. Because you were trapped before, at Lazarus, weren’t you?” Her gaze darted to Flynn. “Let her go.”
Was she sure about that plan? “Cecelia?”
“You have to build trust somewhere,” she replied.
Jay cleared his throat. “Right. About that. Uh, Cecelia, she heard Mark threatening you. Super soldier hearing, remember? She was just hanging outside of your office while he threatened to kill you.” His voice grew sharper with each word. “She was just going to watch while you suffered. She was—”
“No,” Cecelia cut in, sounding very certain. “She wasn’t. She was going to help, but I beat her to the punch.”
“How do you know that?” Flynn asked. Willow wasn’t fighting any longer. Her focus seemed to be completely on Cecelia. Flynn still didn’t release her, not yet. Cecelia might think Willow wasn’t a threat, but she’d shot him before, so he didn’t exactly have the warm fuzzies for her.
At his words, Willow’s head craned back toward him. She frowned. “Why do you smell like…vanilla?”
“Because I fucking love vanilla,” he snapped back. “Why did you shoot me behind Sin?”
She bit her lower lip.
“Because she was scared,” Cecelia answered. “Because the only person in this world that she feels like she can trust…is Bryce King. Bryce found her. He got her out of her prison.”
Jay was just shaking his head. “How do you know this stuff? Are you guessing? Are you a closet psychic?”
“It’s what I do. I understand people.” Cecelia still didn’t take her gaze off Willow. “You shot Flynn, but a super soldier like you…I think you could have kept attacking. You didn’t. You could have followed his blood trail and attacked again, but you didn’t. You could have—”
