by Sydney Croft
“Get away from me,” she rasped.
Instead of complying, he closed and locked the door, then took back the bandage. His face might be a storm cloud, but his hands were gentle—if brisk—as he opened the sterile package and smoothed the bandage onto her shoulder. His touch sparked more heat, and she actually quivered with desire. Not good.
She shoved at his chest, desperate to get out of the bathroom before she did something stupid, but he struck like a snake, somehow gripping her wrists in one hand and lifting her onto the sink with the other as he stepped between her spread thighs.
“I said, there’s nowhere to go.” His breath was hot and desperate in her ear, the scrape of his teeth on her lobe bordering on erotic.
“All I need to do,” she whispered, “is scream.”
His hips pushed against her, his arousal in hard contact with her sex. “You going to let your friends kill me, Sela? For what? Bandaging your wound?” He ground his hips, and she gasped as her core became molten. “Making you hot?”
The last time they’d been like this, had screwed while angry, he’d said he loved her. She didn’t know if that was true anymore, but she did know it wouldn’t be once he found out what she really used to do for ACRO.
This would be her final chance to be with him, so no, she wasn’t going to scream. At least, she wasn’t going to scream for help.
Jerking her hands out of his grip, she reached between them and tore open the fly of his pants. He growled in approval, and then somehow, in the cramped space, he managed to peel her BDUs and panties down to her ankles and then step between her legs while her pants were tangled around her boots.
His expression was wild, feral, as he thrust his finger into her wet pussy, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out.
“I love the way you respond to me,” he gritted, his jaw so tight she suspected the exact opposite, that he hated it, that he was as much a slave to her physical response as she was.
She arched her back, needing him deeper, and he complied, adding another finger and pushing them in up to his knuckles. His fingers thrust and swirled, rasping over nerves that screamed with pleasure.
They didn’t have time to play, but Logan knew that as well as she did, and in the space of a breath, he replaced his fingers with his cock. The broad head of him stretched her, slowly, almost painfully, and then the tenderness was over.
He slammed into her with a grunt. His hot gaze collided with hers as he angled his head to kiss her. The helicopter jolted, but Logan kept his balance easily, holding her steady with both hands on her hips. Needing more of him, she gripped his hair in her fists, forcing his head down to keep his mouth on hers.
There was no talking. No trying to get information from her. This was about releasing the horror of the day’s events, about confirming that they were alive, because even if they were furious with each other, they were alive.
Logan began to move faster, the veined ridges of his cock stroking her sensitive flesh with each thrust. Heat curled upward from her sex, spreading like wildfire through her muscles and over her skin.
Powerful surges sent lightning strikes of pleasure into her clit, and she moaned into his mouth. He pumped harder, his thrusts becoming frantic as he neared the peak, taking her with him.
Just as the first ripples of climax struck, he pulled away, his eyes focusing on her like searing lasers. “Yes,” he ground out, “or no?”
For a second, she just blinked, too dazed to get what he was asking. Then it struck her—dear God, he was … he was asking permission to come. He didn’t want to hurt her with his thoughts. The knowledge destroyed her. Made her eyes sting and her heart sing.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Please!”
He closed his eyes and threw back his head. His jaw was clenched, the tendons in his neck straining, and then molten jets splashed inside her, turning the ripples of pleasure into a tsunami of ecstasy. She would’ve screamed, except his hand shot across her mouth, so she was biting down on his palm as the release took her.
Images swamped her, but they were beautiful—Logan’s fantasies of them together, on a beach, in a forest, in front of a fire with snow falling outside.
She came again, and when it was over, she had to clamp her teeth together to keep them from chattering at the amount of intense emotion washing over her.
Logan said nothing as he buttoned up and stepped out of the cage of her legs and pants. But he surprised her by helping her tug up her pants, and when they were dressed, he opened the door and ushered her out.
“I still need to tape up your bandage.”
“It’s okay. Really. I’m going to get a seat up front. You can sit back here if you want.”
He gripped her waist and guided her back into the seat she’d been in before she fled to the bathroom, and this time, she knew she wasn’t getting away from his questions. They’d had a brief moment of escape, but his expression was hard again, his body tense.
And her? Yeah, she was a mess. She didn’t bother glancing into the main cabin, because everyone in there probably knew what had gone on in that bathroom.
“How many times do I have to tell you that there’s nowhere to go? So you might as well answer my question.” His voice was a deadly rumble that reminded her of Stryker’s earthquake. “What. Does. Marlena. Do.”
Sela’s stomach clenched. He really wasn’t going to let this go. She could put him off if she truly wanted to cause a scene, but he’d find out eventually anyway. He might as well hear it from her.
“She came with me to seduce you.”
Logan’s head snapped back in surprise. “She what?”
“She’s what’s called a Seducer,” Sela said. “Her job is to—”
“Fuck information out of someone,” he finished. “So you came for the chupacabra, but ended up fucking me, and she came for me, but ended up fucking the chupacabra.” He laughed bitterly. “Ironic fucking world, huh?” He reached for some surgical tape, then froze … and turned back to her. “Wait. You can read people during sex. Can she do that?”
“No.” Her stomach turned over, because she knew where this was headed.
“But you can. Which seems like a damned handy skill for someone who works for a secret agency that employs Seducers.”
“I guess.”
His expression went flat and cold enough to make her shiver. “I think it’s time to cut the bullshit. You’re a fucking Seducer, aren’t you?” She shook her head, and his fingers tightened around her wrist. “I am so sick of your lies, Sela. I want the truth, and I want it now.”
Anger flared, a welcome heat to replace the icy dread that had centered in her chest. “You are not in charge here. You’re on my turf now, so I’d be careful about demanding answers I don’t want to give you.”
“So that’s a yes,” he said, eyes flashing with fury. “You denied it over and over, but you really are a goddamned corporate prostitute, so dedicated to your job that you fucked me on a company flight.” He laughed. “I apologized for calling you a whore, but now I realize I was right all along.”
Stung, she leaped to her feet and slapped him as hard as she could. “You don’t have a lot of room to talk, you bastard. At least I have never sold my services to the highest bidder. I don’t think you can say the same thing about your company.”
She spun around, and nearly collided with Stryker, who must have been keeping a close eye on what was going on in the back of the helo and had come to help her. His eyes were chips of ice as he glared at Logan, but spoke to her. “You okay?”
Not at all. When she’d actually worked as a Seducer, falling in love hadn’t been a concern. She’d been intimate with so many people and had never even come close to love, so it just figured that she’d succumb while on a mission that wasn’t even intended to be about seducing.
And now her past had come back to haunt her in a way she could never have predicted.
“I’m fine. I’m just going to take a seat with Marlena.” They’d
be on the plane and in the air within half an hour, and thank God Dev kept the thing stocked with expensive alcohol, because she planned to drink the past few days away. With any luck, she’d wake up and find that the whole mission was nothing but a bad dream.
CHAPTER
Twenty-four
After a fifteen-hour flight, thanks to bad-weather diversions, they landed at the ACRO compound at seven in the morning. Logan helped his sister off the jet with the medics, who wanted to keep Caroline in the infirmary overnight for observation.
Neither Caroline nor he was happy about it, but Logan knew his sister needed to be checked and treated more extensively. “I’m going with her.”
No one argued, and so Logan and his father followed the medics and Caroline into a waiting Hummer. He felt Sela’s eyes on him, but he refused to turn around. The anger at what she’d done, what she’d kept hidden, would reach another boiling point if he looked at her.
Within five minutes, they were in front of a brick building where there were four more men waiting. Two of them ushered his father away for a debriefing; Logan didn’t bat an eye. Let the old man explain what he’d done. Logan needed to stay with Caroline.
The remaining men escorted Logan and his sister inside an extensive medical facility and to an exam room.
“Sir, we’ve got to change her into a gown,” one of the nurses said. “Which means you need to leave.”
Reluctantly, he did, but stayed right outside the door in case she called for him. The guilt, which had built from the second he’d learned she’d been kidnapped, now threatened to overwhelm him. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, buried his face in his hands as he did so.
It was only then he realized he’d need to call GWC for more of his daily injections. He’d managed to grab a week’s supply from the tent after Stryker’s great earthquake matinee, but he had no idea how long they’d be here.
“Sir, I’m going to be the doctor in charge of Caroline.”
He looked up at the soft-voiced, slightly older woman in a white coat and small, round glasses standing in front of him.
“I’m going to examine her thoroughly, decide if I need to order tests—and, of course, I’ll have to find out exactly what happened to her,” she continued. “It might take a while, and you look like you need some food and rest. I can have one of the agents escort you to a sleep room.”
“I don’t need sleep. Or food. I just need to make sure my sister is all right.”
The doctor nodded. “Of course, I understand. But for safety reasons, you cannot wait in the hallway.”
Logan stood, because arguing was useless. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
He began to walk down the hall toward the door, well aware he was being followed by an agent, sort of like having a bodyguard in reverse. It made sense that he wouldn’t be allowed to roam this compound unattended, especially since he was sure Sela had filled ACRO in on the secret of his bioware.
Sela, the first person he’d told his secrets to. Which had been the stupidest thing he could’ve done; should’ve known that trusting her was wrong.
God, his instincts were fucked. He blamed the bioware. And Sela’s training. And this entire ACRO world.
When he’d taken her in the bathroom, he was actually thinking about a future together with her. About beaches and long walks and normal things that couples do.
But you’re not normal. That always seemed to come back and slam him between the eyes as a harsh and stunning reminder. When he’d been normal, he’d taken it all for granted. Thought he’d had all the time in the world for family, for children … for everything.
Now he knew life was too damned short and nothing would ever be the way he’d thought it would. But he’d had enough of this pity party; there was still a lot more to be done to dig GWC out of this mess. With ACRO’s help, of course.
The thought made his fists tighten.
As he walked outside, he tried hard to keep it together. It would do no good to put on a show of temper here, if Stryker’s powers were any indication of what kind of men—and women—worked here.
“You’re right. You’re strong, Logan, but we don’t let our agents, or our guests, use their powers against one another.” A tall, brown-haired man, wearing the familiar black BDUs, fell into step with him.
Great, a fucking swami mind reader.
“I don’t need to read your mind to know what you’re thinking.” The man stopped and so did Logan. “I’m Devlin O’Malley. I’m in charge of ACRO.”
Logan stuck out his hand. Dev shook it with the firm, easy grip of someone completely in command, of himself and his team.
“Yes. Let’s keep walking, okay?” Dev didn’t bother to wait for Logan to agree before he was moving at a fast clip along the winding paths, nodding at the men and women he passed.
Logan kept up the pace next to him and for about five minutes, neither of them spoke. Finally, they came to a well-kept building.
“If we’re to talk about Itor, I’d rather do it here in my office. It’s protected,” Dev explained, holding a door open for him.
“Protected?” Logan repeated as he entered a plush lobby.
“You don’t have a mind-shield yet. Itor can read you—break into your mind and grab information.” Dev led him past a desk and into a large office. “This building has recently had extra shields put in place.”
“So they know I’m here.”
Dev closed the door and remained standing. “They knew that the second they saw Stryker. What concerns me is that you might be thinking things Itor can use—against you and against us.”
“Great. I want to take Itor down. Which means I need to get out of here and make a plan. I’m happy to let your organization in on—”
Dev shook his head. “It’s not that easy. Itor can’t be stopped in one fell swoop. At least not yet,” Devlin muttered, ran his hands through his hair and stared at Logan. “You, your father, your sister—none of you will be safe at GWC now.”
“So I’m supposed to close my company?” Logan demanded.
“I didn’t say you have to close it. But you’ll have to run it in a far more protected environment than where it is now.”
“What, here?” Logan heard the sarcasm in his own voice. “Yeah, sure, we’ll become an ACRO-run company. So I can supply you and your agents with weapons. And how the hell do I know you don’t have the same evil intent that Itor does?”
“Because I’m telling you. We rescued you, didn’t we? And we haven’t done anything but keep you safe.” Devlin’s voice grew hard. “Itor will never stop looking for you. Now that they know what you’re made of, what Chance is—”
“Can you cure him?” Logan interrupted.
“There’s a small possibility. Very small.”
“I want him at GWC—we can probably help him, the way they helped me,” Logan insisted.
“If you go back, it’s without Chance. He’s too … vulnerable for us to let him fall into the wrong hands.”
“Yeah, he was in great fucking hands with your Seducer agent,” Logan said roughly. “Just like me.”
In one swift move that spoke of military training, Devlin had him pinned against the wall, a knife across his throat.
“Bioware or not, I’ll cut you from stem to stern if you talk about my agents like that,” Dev told him through gritted teeth. “We respect the agents—and their jobs—here. Not all the work is pretty or fun or easy. What Sela and Marlena took on for the safety and security of the world—for the safety and security of you and your firm—you should be thanking your lucky stars they’re as trained and skilled as they are.”
Logan didn’t struggle. In fact, he felt like a total fucking ass for … well, acting like one to Sela.
“It happens.” Dev released him. “We’ve all got our pride, want to do the protecting. No one likes to be deceived, even if it’s for our own good.”
Logan didn’t respond to that, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his camo pants an
d said instead, “I’m going to need to call GWC—the scientists, they have to send me injections.”
“They can send us the formulation—we’ll re-create it here.”
“Fair enough.”
“You’ll need to submit to an examination as well. It’s SOP whenever we bring new people with special abilities into the compound.”
There was no leeway in Devlin’s words. “I’d like to go to Sela first, if that’s permitted.”
“You hurt her, half the agents here will want to kill you.”
“What about the other half?”
“Take want out of the sentence and you’ll have your answer.”
* * *
BY THE TIME THE PLANE LANDED, ANNIKA WAS READY TO SLEEP for a month. She’d never been so tired in her entire life. Creed had been waiting on the tarmac—being held back by Ender, because it was pretty clear Creed wanted a piece of Gabe, but the moment she’d stepped onto solid ground, he’d kissed her, swept her into the Jeep and sped straight to medical, even though she tried to explain that her head was fine.
“You’re not fine,” he growled, as he carried—yes, carried—her through the infirmary halls. She didn’t have the strength or will to fight him, though she did grouse a little. “It’s just a bump on the head, Creed.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it,” he said, and for a split second, she wondered if he knew she was pregnant. “I heard what happened to Akbar.”
She clung to him, relieved, because the last thing she wanted to do right now was fight with Creed about a kid. She’d been able to forget their problems for a couple of days, what with her concentration being on not getting killed, but now their issues were all flooding back, and she wasn’t ready to talk.
Not that talking about Akbar was any better.
“It was awful.” She shuddered as a nurse whisked them into a prepared room. So many ACRO agents had died over the years, and she’d witnessed much of it. But after a brief moment of grief, she wrote off their deaths as a risk they all took. But Akbar … God. She didn’t know why losing him made her want to cry, whether it was the horrific way in which it had happened, or whether it was her stupid hormones.
