Touch of Surrender

by Rhyannon Byrd

  She blinked, staring at him as if he’d just grown a second head…or lightning beams had just shot from his eye sockets. With one hand pressed against her chest, she wheezed and managed to splutter, “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?”

  A thick sound of frustration broke from his throat, and Kierland pulled a hand down his face, hating that he could feel a damn blush burning beneath his skin. “I’m not telling you that I want to go out and find another woman,” he muttered, before looking away to stare out across the crowded pub. “I’m telling you that I want you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.” His gaze came back to her, and whatever she saw in his eyes made her own face flush with heat, a wild bloom of color burning in her cheeks and along the bridge of her nose.

  “I don’t understand.” Slow, careful words, as if she was talking to someone who’d lost their grip on reality. And hell, maybe he had.

  Kierland rubbed at the knotted tension in the back of his neck, then made a quiet, gritty confession. “The truth is, I haven’t been with another woman since you came to England with the others.”

  WORRIED THAT SHE MIGHT actually be dreaming, Morgan reached under the table and sank a short claw into her thigh. As the sharp sting of pain faded, she could only marvel at the fact that she hadn’t awakened in her bed, alone, to find that this was all some kind of fatigue- or stress-induced fantasy. But Kierland was still sitting across from her, looking like he wanted to eat her alive, the provocative scent of hunger pouring off his big, ripped body making her light-headed.

  “What exactly are you saying?” she asked, choosing her words with care. She was still mortified by the things she’d said to him on the train. No way in hell was she going to compound her embarrassment by misreading the situation.

  He took a moment to respond, his head angled forward and a little to the side as he stared at her through his dense lashes, his gaze touching upon her individual features—eyes, nose, mouth—before returning to her eyes again. Finally, he answered her question. “I’m saying that I haven’t been with another woman in the past month, because you’re the only one that I’ve wanted under me. No one else. And I’m saying that there’s still lust between us, just like there was ten years ago.” The husky words shook with a raw force of emotion that she could hardly believe was real. “It doesn’t matter how misplaced it is,” he went on to say, “or how badly we wish it didn’t exist. I think it’s finally time we got it out of our systems, once and for all.”

  Blinking, Morgan took a slow, careful breath and wet her lips, while her blood slipped through her veins like hot, thick syrup. “Are you…actually admitting that you wanted me back then, Kier?”

  He turned his head farther to the side, and slid her one of those wry male expressions that managed to look both sardonic and sexy as hell. “I would have thought it was pretty obvious.”

  “And what makes you think I wanted you?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was fighting back a smile. “Are you really gonna try to deny it?”

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “But…I was a girl with her first adult crush. I had stars in my eyes. Then I got a heavy dose of reality, and I grew up.”

  From the look on his face, she could tell the quiet words had revealed more than she’d wanted. Morgan thought he would question her, digging for answers, but he didn’t. Instead, he blew out a rough breath and said, “I want you under me, Morgan, and I’m tired of pretending I couldn’t care less if it ever happens. Because it’s a lie. I care a hell of a lot about wanting you. I always have.”

  God, she couldn’t believe this was Kierland sitting across from her, speaking so…openly. The man had never so much as even attempted to kiss her all those years ago, and now he was claiming that he’d wanted her. A lot. It made her head spin, knowing that she hadn’t just imagined the hunger she’d sometimes thought she’d caught in those beautiful green eyes.

  But if that was true, then why had he gotten involved with Nicole? Why had he never told Morgan how he felt?

  “You really think this is a good idea?” she croaked, too wary to ask the questions that she really wanted answered.

  “I’d give you an easier option if I had one, but I don’t.” The raw force of his gaze made her flustered and hot. “The fact is, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and there’s only one way I’m going to be able to stomach working with Granger.”

  Oh…hell.

  Morgan dropped her head forward and covered her face with her hands, holding perfectly still, even though she was shaking apart inside. God, she should have known where this was leading. That it would turn ugly, the way everything always did between them.

  Slowly, she lowered her hands to her lap, a wry, self-deprecating smile curving the corner of her mouth. “This isn’t about me at all, is it? It’s about Ashe. Some weird jealousy thing.” There was a soft edge of anger to her words as she said, “One of those ‘You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to want me, either’ situations.”

  His voice slid over her like dark, crushed velvet, his heavy-lidded stare smoldering with lust. “Trust me,” he reiterated slowly. “Wanting you has never been a problem.”

  “Some sort of vampire prejudice, then?” she shot back, trying hard not to melt beneath the primal heat of his stare. “You can’t stomach to see someone in your unit cozying up with a vamp?”

  Frustration rode the hard, muscled lines of his body, blasting against her like a physical force. “Don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t. But it’s not a vampire thing. I’m just… Damn it, I hate this,” he muttered, taking a deep, shuddering breath, as if willing himself to calm down. The fisted hand on the tabletop slowly relaxed, and he flexed his fingers, laying his palm flat. For a moment, all he did was stare down at the back of his hand, with its long fingers and thick veins, while the pub continued to provide a noisy backdrop to their quiet conversation. Finally, he lifted his head and stared right into her eyes as he said, “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Morgan. I just want to have sex with you.”

  Madness, how much those rough words turned her on. Not to mention how badly she wanted to believe him. How desperately she wanted to throw herself across that table and attack him, right there in the middle of that bloody pub. But the doubts and fears were nearly impossible to ignore.

  She swallowed, and fought to make sense of the words crashing around inside her skull. “If you’re doing this to keep me away from Ashe, it isn’t necessary, Kier. Like I’ve told you before, Ashe and I are just friends.”

  He snorted, clearly not believing her.

  “That’s the truth, Kierland. He was a friend when I needed one. And then he was…he kept me together at a really bad time in my life. Kept me from falling apart, and I owe him more than I can ever repay. I know the two of you have never gotten along, but he’s not the villain you’ve made him out to be.”

  “He’s hardly a saint,” he muttered under his breath, and she could tell that he was trying hard to control his temper.

  “No, he isn’t a saint,” she agreed. “But he isn’t evil, either.” She lowered her gaze, staring at the polished surface of the table. “Still, I meant what I said. I won’t be sleeping with him.”

  “Then so long as we’re on this assignment, you’ll be sleeping with me.”

  The husky, devastating words jerked a short, nervous laugh from her chest, and she looked back up, mesmerized by the hard, determined expression cut into the rugged angles of his face. With the burnished rays of sunlight spilling in through the pub’s high, stained-glass windows, pouring splashes of color across that lustrous hair and powerful body, he really was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen.

  Wetting her lips again, she shook her head a little to break the spell, and tried to remember all the reasons why this was such a bad idea. “What in God’s name makes you think I’m going to agree to this?”

  “We’ve been putting this off for years, Morgan. Don’t yo
u think it’s time we finally did something about it?” he asked in a deep, rich rumble. “Whatever else might be between us, we’ve always wanted the hell out of each other, and it’s even worse now than it was before. These past two days have proven that. And as much as I figure you’d like to deny it, the truth is that you want to know the answer to the question as badly as I do.”

  “And the question would be…”

  He focused on her hot face with a visceral, predatory intensity, and replied, “What it’s going to be like when I’m inside you.”

  Need spiked through her body, molten and warm and aching, her expression no doubt giving away every damn thing that she felt, but it couldn’t be helped. Morgan wished she could be cool and sophisticated about the intimate topic, but that just wasn’t her. Put her on a battlefield, and she could fight like a ruthless bitch with the best of them. But land her in the middle of a conversation about sex, and she blushed like a schoolgirl, her heart beating so heavily she knew he could probably hear it over the clatter of the pub.

  Nerves were so ridiculous at her age, and yet, there seemed so much to be nervous about. For one, this was Kierland saying these outrageous things to her, which would have been enough to rattle any woman. And for another…she’d never been intimate with a wolf before. And from the things Morgan had heard, it wasn’t an experience a woman could ever forget. Lycans were known to be insatiable lovers. Wild. Ravenous. As aggressive as the Deschanel, when their beasts were awakened.

  With those thoughts tumbling through her mind, she couldn’t quite look him in the eye as she said, “I’ve heard things about Lycans, Kier. They’re rumored to be some of the most…aggressive of the breeds when it comes to sex.”

  A heavy pause. A rough breath. Then he finally responded. “You’ve slept with a Deschanel, Morgan. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be afraid of aggressive sex.”

  He was right about the Deschanel’s reputation, but the truth was that Ashe had always been incredibly tender with her, mindful of her age and innocence…worried that he’d scare her if he got too rough. But she wasn’t going to admit any of that to Kierland. “I’m not saying that I’m afraid. Maybe I just want to make sure you won’t hold back and act differently with me. Because of my bloodline.”

  He waited until she’d slid her gaze back to his before saying, “I’ve always considered you one of the strongest women I know, so there’d be no reason for me to go easy on you.” His chest shook with a gritty bark of laughter that seemed to take him by surprise, and a slow grin crossed his mouth. “I doubt I could lighten up even if I wanted to. And I don’t. I plan on doing everything I can to make sure the experience is one that makes an impact. One you won’t ever forget.”

  Morgan bit back a telling moan, so aroused she could barely sit still. He’d spent so many years hiding this part of himself from her, and though she’d imagined it in her fantasies, seeing the sexy redhead in full hunger mode was too delicious to be real.

  But he was lying, and she knew it.

  “What?” he asked, arching a dark brow as he spotted the sparks of accusation glittering in her eyes.

  “It’s just that I know that’s not true,” she told him, shrugging her shoulder. “Ashe told me what happened with that nest of rogue vampires. That you refused to attack with the full unit of trainees, the way you’d been ordered to, because you didn’t want me involved. The only explanation I can think of is that you were worried I would jeopardize the mission, because I wasn’t as pure-blooded as the rest of you.”

  “Granger talks too much,” he grunted, shoving one hand through his auburn hair.

  “You don’t deny it, then?” she asked in a soft voice. “That you thought I was weak?”

  “I’ve already told you that I considered you the most talented student I ever had,” he growled with a blast of impatience. “And I don’t want to sit here wasting time talking about the past. I’m done with the past,” he muttered, and then he suddenly shook his head, a grim, breathless burst of laughter spilling from his lips. “Hell, I know I sound like a madman, but I just…I need to put the past behind me somehow and go on from here. Only, I can’t do that with this…with what’s between us still hanging over my head. I swear to God, Morgan, I’m gonna go out of my mind if I don’t get this out of my system.”

  She scowled at his words. “You make me sound like some kind of illness.”

  “You’re my illness. And I’m just trying to get my hands on the cure.” He sent her a deep-grooved grin that was unbearably beautiful, and said, “Or maybe addiction would be a better word for you.”

  “And you’re just trying to get your fix?” she asked, surprised to find herself grinning back at him.

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  It was so tempting just to fall under the spell of that devilish, lopsided smile he was giving her, but she knew what could be waiting for her on the other side. “If I say yes,” she whispered, shifting her gaze away again, “I know how you’ll act, Kierland. Belittle me. Call me a slut.”

  “No,” he said in a rough voice. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “You—”

  He cut her off, his voice ragged as he interjected, “Morgan, I’m ready to get down on my knees and beg. If that’s what it’s going to take, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

  “If I agreed,” she murmured, trying to hide the fact that her stomach was doing somersaults, “when did you want…to do this?”

  His answer came hard and quick. “Right now.”

  Unable to hide her surprise, she jerked her head around, her stunned gaze colliding with his. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You say yes,” he rasped, “and we’re gonna be lucky if we make it to a bloody bed.”

  Again, she lowered her gaze, which was so unlike her. But she couldn’t help it, damn it. The raw heat and hunger on his gorgeous face was melting her down. Turning her brain to mush. Making her feel stripped and bare and completely exposed.

  Which is exactly what’s going to happen if I say yes to him.

  Suddenly, Morgan found herself staring at the way his big hands rested palm down on the table, imagining what those rough, masculine hands would feel like on her body. Imagining those long fingers inside her, touching all those intimate places that had always hungered for this man’s touch. He had beautiful hands. Not pretty, but hard…rugged. Battle-scarred and dark. Powerful…strong. She knew, without any doubt, that they were more than capable of making her scream with pleasure.

  And oh…God, was she actually thinking of agreeing to this insane idea?

  With her breath coming in sharp, embarrassing pants, Morgan lifted her gaze, staring deep into those heavy-lidded eyes, and knew that she didn’t have any other choice. Her lips felt numb, but she somehow managed to form the words she wanted to say. “I… Okay.” A soft, shaky whisper. Almost too silent to be heard. “I…I think you’re right. We should…clear the air, so to speak.”

  She’d half expected him to gloat or burst out laughing or tell her it had all been some kind of sick joke. But he didn’t say anything. Not a word.

  Instead, the Lycan stood up and grabbed their luggage from under the table, hooking the straps over his broad shoulders. Then he reached down, took her wrist…and pulled her out of the pub behind him.

  “Where are we going?” she gasped, squinting at the bright rays of afternoon sunlight as they stepped onto the busy street, his hold on her firm and solid and strong.

  “We’re getting a room.”

  That was all he said. Just those four gritty words.

  But as he headed down the bustling sidewalk and she ran to keep up with him, Morgan knew they were the most exciting, terrifying, breathtaking words she had ever heard.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT WASN’T UNTIL THE DOOR TO THE hotel room—the room Kierland had just walked in off the street and paid for—was closed with a hard, solid thud that Morgan understood just how tightly he’d been holding himself together. But with the closing of t
he door, he stopped fighting it and allowed the hunger to fill him. The fury-tinged lust and craving he’d confessed to in the pub was suddenly staring her right in the face…and she almost panicked.

  She stumbled back, not running from him, but needing some space to breathe…to think.

  Misreading her intention, Kierland rasped a single, desperate word as he dropped their bags on the floor. “Don’t.”

  Then he moved so fast, Morgan couldn’t even remember seeing him cross the room, but suddenly he was there, on her, crushing her into the mattress, crawling over her, his hard weight pinning her down. For a split second Morgan worried that the panic which sometimes came when she felt crowded or confined would rush over her, ruining the moment. It’d happened before during sex. Ever since the awful night when things had gone so horribly wrong ten years ago, she hadn’t been able to take all of a man’s weight on her. Not the times she’d been with Ashe, after the incident, or with the few other lovers she’d had over the years. The feeling of being trapped always threatened to take her back to memories she’d worked hard to forget.

  But Kierland’s weight didn’t make her feel frightened or suffocated. It made her hungry…greedy, and she wound her arms around his broad, tough shoulders, clawing at his sweater, wanting more of him…needing everything he had to give.

  His lips found hers, at once hard and tender, the heat of them after being out in the cold making her gasp. With his long fingers shaped around her skull, he held her trapped, kissing her like he was making love to her mouth. Then he pushed his hips between her thighs, forcing her legs to part, the hard ridge of his erection grinding against the slick, damp heat of her sex. With a thick sound, he pushed his jeans-covered cock against her in a move that would have driven him impossibly deep, if not for the frustrating layers of clothing separating their flesh, and she arched in reaction, clutching onto his powerful shoulders.

  It’s too good, she thought, wondering if it was possible to spontaneously combust from lust.