Unrest (Unknown Trilogy Book 2)

by Wendy Higgins

  “I want you.” It was out of me like the push of a powerful tide. There was no controlling it, no taking it back.

  He came at me with two panther-like strides until he was hovering over me, forcing me to walk backward until my legs bumped the bed.

  “Finally,” he breathed, almost angrily, and then his mouth was on mine, his hand cradling the back of my head with firm ownership as his other hand slid around my back and yanked me to him.

  A sound somewhere between a moan and a cry rose from deep within me at the feel of his lips and hands. I clutched him around his back, grasping. My mind abandoned all sense of politeness and I raised a knee as if I might climb him. He grabbed my ass with both hands and I held on tight as he lifted me and laid me on the bed with a bounce, then climbed above me and lowered his hips.

  “Rylen . . .” Was this real?

  His body was flush against mine, his weight rousing a glorious heat that spread out from my core. This was definitely real, and we were needy, so needy. My calves wrapped around the back of his thighs as our mouths moved together, his warm tongue tasting me. When he lifted his face and rested his forehead against mine, we were both panting for air.

  My chest rose and fell, feeling like my heart had exploded in a shower of stars. Rylen is in my arms. I let out a laugh of surprised disbelief.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” I said against his mouth.

  “Neither can I,” he breathed.

  He lowered his face to mine and kissed me again, this one long and slow. Then he kept his lips close to mine as he said, “I half thought you were coming here to tell me you didn’t mean it. It took all my will-power not to go to you today and get it over with so I could quit obsessing.”

  Him obsessing over me? “You’re crazy!” My laugh sounded maniacal. “I’ve wanted this for years.”

  “Years?” he asked skeptically. “How ‘bout when I came home that summer you turned seventeen and you were all of a sudden a damn woman? You got pissed when I tried to kiss you.”

  We’d been over this. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at Tater for interrupting us. And it was me who tried to kiss you.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not how I remember it.”

  “You were drunk.” My turn to smile.

  Regret filled his eyes. “I wish you would’ve told me.”

  Holy freaking crap. “I tried! I gave you a lot of hints.”

  He turned his head to the side, smiling bashfully. “For future reference, men need things spelled out. Hints don’t work.”

  “Well, that’s really inconvenient.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly catch on to my hints either,” he said. “I almost kissed you outside at that cabin.”

  “What? Once again, I was the one who almost kissed you!”

  He shook his head. “I felt like an asshole for thinking about you when . . .” When Livia had just died. I ran my hand over his cheek.

  “You’re not an asshole. You never were, and you aren’t now.”

  He moved a lock of hair from my face. “I hate to say it, but I probably wouldn’t have let us get involved before, when you were younger, even if you had told me how you felt. I always knew you were destined for something bigger. I would’ve felt like I was holding you back.”

  There it was. I shook my head and let myself run my hands up the short hair at the back of his head. “You always thought that about yourself, Ry, that you weren’t good enough, but you were wrong. We can do big things, together.”

  Ry grinned softly down at me. “The past is the past, okay, Pepper? I never want you to be afraid to tell me something again.”

  “Or you.”

  “Or me.”

  I nodded, feeling his hair slide between my fingers. Emotions welled up inside of me. After all this time, here we were, holding each other like it was the most natural thing ever. Like there hadn’t been years of no-touching-tension between us up until two minutes ago. It was surreal.

  When Rylen’s mouth came down over mine again, all words and worries fled. His lips were the perfect amount of supple. His knee pressed down between my thighs until I opened up for him and he lowered his weight between my legs, making me moan when I felt his hard bulge rub the crease of my jeans. He pressed against me and I grabbed his waist, pulling him down harder, wishing there were no clothes between us.

  Rylen stilled and turned his head aside, letting out a huge breath like he was trying to stay in control of himself. Then, to my disappointment, he rose and moved off me, onto his side, propped on his elbow, looking down at me in a heated way that made my disappointment disappear. His hand slipped under my T-shirt and pressed hotly against my stomach. My back arched into his touch. He watched me, as if mesmerized. And then his fingers flicked open the button of my jeans.

  I inhaled sharply and stared at him.

  “I seem to remember you calling me a certain name,” he said. His tone was full of menacing promise that made my pulse quicken. My face flushed when I realized what name he was talking about.

  “I really have no idea where that came from.” I laughed nervously as he pulled my zipper down. “I’ve never used that phrase in my life.”

  “Mm-hm. That may be, but I feel the need to redeem myself from the accusation, just the same.”

  “Ry . . .” I sucked in another breath as he sat up and tucked his fingers into the sides of my jeans. He looked down at me seriously. My heart was beating as if I’d run a marathon.

  “Lift your hips.”

  When I hesitated out of sheer nervousness, he whispered, “Trust me.”

  So nervous. So nervous. So nervous.

  Without taking my eyes from him, I lifted my hips. His intense gaze was so satisfying that it sent a hot zap through my blood. My jeans were tossed to the floor, my panties still in place. A second later and he was at my side again, kissing me so well I could’ve passed out from bliss. His warm hand roamed my waist, down my hip, to my outer thigh. My breathing hitched as his hand moved inward over the swell of my inner thigh, but instead of touching my center, he went back around my leg to my hip and back over my stomach, leaving me yearning. I let out a moan of aching, trying not to wiggle, and he grinned.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Now you’re definitely being a tease.”

  He chuckled and nibbled my lower lip as his hand dipped beneath the elastic of my underwear. I held my breath. Rylen’s lips stilled on mine as his fingers slid down and discovered how wet I was for him. I almost felt embarrassed until he shut his eyes and let out the most masculine groan I’d ever heard. That sound alone nearly made me overheat. His fingers slid back up and moved with just enough pressure over the sensitive folds and nub that I’d accused him of teasing last night.

  I bit my lip to try and stay quiet, but I couldn’t help but raise my hips for more.

  Rylen whispered a curse under his breath and his hand moved faster. I couldn’t stay still. I pressed my hands over the top of his and moved my hips, breathing hard.

  “Oh, my God. Ry . . .” His hand moved faster, pressing harder.

  “Fuck this.” Rylen sat up, ripped my panties down my legs, and then his mouth was there. My entire back arched upward and my head flew back at the feel of his hot lips on my most tender spot, his tongue flicking and tasting with exquisite pressure. Then I felt the heaviness of his finger pushing into me, and the combined stimulation was like a flame to a bomb inside of me, lighting one after another nerve, detonating bursts of pleasure so intense they walked the edge of pain. I grasped his hair as I cried out, unable to stay quiet any longer. Rylen firmly held my hips in place as I bucked until I finally stilled, quivering from the inside.

  I was so sensitive when he made his way back up to me, that my body convulsed with aftershocks. He gave me the utterly sexy look of a man who’d staked his claim and was damn proud of himself. I couldn’t help but giggle, especially when I tried to lift my hand to his face and found my arm was like a noodle.
/>   “Okay, I take back what I said,” I whispered.

  Now it was his turn to chuckle. When I caught my breath, I sat up and pushed his shoulder so he was laying down, and then I straddled him and kissed him. I was still so sensitive that my body trembled when I touched my nakedness against the hard heat of his track shorts. His eyes took on a smoky darkness when he felt me rub against him.

  I wasn’t ready to stop. I was nervous, but this was Rylen. Slowly, I took the bottom of my T-shirt and raised it over my head. His clouded eyes took in the sight of me as he ran his hands from my hips up my waist. I fought the jitters and reached back to unclasp my bra and toss it away.

  Rylen sat up with me still on his lap, his hands behind my back, and lifted me enough to take one of my breasts into his mouth. I whimpered as his tongue swirled around it and pulled back, sucking and releasing my nipple with a gentle snap until it was a hard bud. He gave the other equal treatment, and I was shocked by how turned on I was again. I couldn’t control the eager, passionate sounds that continued to escape me.

  I looked down at Rylen’s sexy torso. He’d lost some of his bulk, but his lean muscles were defined. I ran my hands over him. I greedily touched him like I’d wanted to for so long. And I wanted to touch much, much more of him. I slid down his legs just enough to rub him through his shorts. Holy, shit. Rylen fell back with a guttural hiss and grasped the tops of my thighs.

  A rattling sound from the entrance had me scrambling to get off his lap, but he held me in place and shouted, “Fuck off!” toward the door. Someone was trying to use their key to get in, but Rylen had flipped the inside lock.

  “Dude!” Tater shouted through the door. “Some Airman from Nellis just showed up, half dead, and we can’t find Amber!”

  I jumped off him and snatched up my clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands while Rylen did the same.

  “One sec!” Ry called. One minute later Rylen flung open the door. Tater’s look of shock, then revulsion, then righteous anger would have had me laughing any other time, but right now I just shoved past him and sprinted to the stairs.

  “The fuck, Fite?” Tater said.

  “Not now,” Ry told him.

  We sprinted all the way to the med room, where Captain Ward had wrapped a very pale redheaded man in a warming blanket. Two soldiers stood against the wall, weapons out. The dentist’s eyes were freaked when he looked at me.

  “Hypothermia. Possible frostbite in his fingers and toes.”

  I forced back a cringe. Burns I could handle. Frozen extremities were not something I’d ever had to deal with. I grabbed his largest medical book and thumbed through until I found information and treatment options, which I quickly skimmed.

  “I’ll run him a warm bath.” I ran two doors down where a medical tub was kept, but never used. Its primary purpose was for hot or ice baths for physical therapy. I cranked the water on until it was around 105 degrees, and let it fill, water restrictions be damned. Then I ran back to the room.

  “We need to undress him and carry him to the bath. Once his body is pinkish red he’ll need to be dried in warm cloth and immediately kept warm with blankets.” Tater, Rylen, and Captain Ward undressed him. I noted absently that he was definitely human. The guys carried him while I went back to the tub to double check the water and turn it off.

  They brought him in and carefully lowered him up to his neck. Several of his toes and fingers were whitish with black along the edges.

  The man’s teeth chattered and he panted. “Hurtsss.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’ll feel better soon.” I hoped.

  “He’s talking now,” one of the soldiers called into the hall. I looked up to see First Sergeant come in. All of their guns were drawn.

  “Do you guys have to have weapons out in here?” I asked.

  “He hasn’t been cleared yet,” First Sergeant explained.

  “Well,” I said, “I think it’s safe to say he’s an unarmed human who’s not going to fight right now.”

  First Sergeant gave a curt nod to the soldiers, Rylen, and Tater. “Wait in the hall.” But he remained, watching us work, his sidearm at the ready.

  I dunked a washcloth into the warm water and ran it over the man’s cheeks and ears. He shivered so hard some of the water vibrated out in small splashes. When the water began to feel tepid, I drained some as I added more warm. After ten or fifteen minutes his violent shuddering slowed. I raised his limbs one by one, nearly to the surface without taking them out. My heart began to settle at the sight of most of his fingers and toes turning pink again. But one pinky and the tips of two toes on both feet remained discolored.

  Frostbite was like a cold burn. His extremities would likely blister and be discolored, possibly losing sensitivity to cold and heat.

  The man struggled to speak. “Will you . . . have to . . . amputate?”

  “Not likely,” I said. “Unless there’s gangrene. For now, we’ll just keep an eye on them.”

  First Sergeant moved his chair next to the tub. I knew he was about to question him, and there was nothing I could do about it. What I wasn’t expecting was his method.

  “Sit back, Tate,” he said. I scooted back.

  Top pressed his gun to the man’s head, making me suck in a breath. The dentist went completely still.

  “How long until the others arrive?” First Sergeant asked. My heart galloped. The others?

  “Just me.” The man’s teeth had stopped chattering, but he looked ready to pass out, and his voice was weak.

  “Your ID says you’re from Nellis, which has been taken over.” He cocked the gun, and my insides began to shake with nausea.

  “I escaped . . . no one . . . followed.”

  “What exactly did you escape?”

  The man struggled to talk, his voice scratchy. I wanted to give him a drink of water, but didn’t dare interfere.

  “The DRI. I heard . . . your signal.”

  “You’ve been there at Nellis all this time, with the DRI?”

  “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

  “Why did you leave?”

  The man closed his eyes, his head drooping. “I thought . . . they were . . . fighting the enemy, but I was wrong. I think . . . I think they are the enemy. They . . . they’re killing people.” His eyes opened and he turned enough to eye First Sergeant pleadingly. “If you’re with them, kill me. I won’t let you use me.”

  This guy wasn’t with them. Nobody’s act could be this good.

  “How exactly have you been used?” First Sergeant asked, never softening, never lowering his weapon.

  The man was quiet. His head fell forward. First Sergeant pressed the gun harder into the side of the guy’s temple, making me wish I’d left the room with the others.

  A quiet sob, almost like a choking cough, issued from the man, and he shook his head. “Just kill me.”

  First Sergeant’s hard face remained impassive, but he lowered the gun to his thigh. “What’s your name?”

  The man paused a long time before answering. “Michael King.”

  “Rank?”

  “Ca—captain.”

  First Sergeant gave a nod to the dentist, Captain Ward, who then got up and left the room, I assumed to pass along the man’s identity to someone who could check the military database. Two minutes later, Linette stepped into the room with her arms crossed.

  “Fighter pilot,” she said.

  Both mine and First Sergeant’s eyes flew to the man. My heart was suddenly in my throat with trepidation.

  “Tell me what work you’ve been doing these past two months, son.”

  The man shivered. Shook his head side to side. Then his chest began to rise and fall too quickly, his breaths turning from ragged pants to gasps. He grabbed his chest. I leapt to my feet and took his head in my hands, feeling down to his jumping pulse.

  “Sh. Michael King, right?” I murmured. “It’s okay, Michael.” I eyed the First Sergeant and whispered, “Panic attack.” He could fake the hyperventilati
ng, but the out-of-control pulse told me this was authentic. I gave Top a pleading look and his lips pursed.

  He sighed. “Let’s get him dried and dressed.” Relief flooded me.

  Captain Ward, Tater, and Rylen came back in to help me, while the armed soldiers watched from the doorway. We got Michael dried and dressed, and the dentist and I bandaged his toes and fingers. Then we wrapped him in blankets and got him comfortable in one of the medical beds in another room. He was given hot tea and chicken broth, then locked in the room.

  To my surprise, I looked up and found the chaplain coming down the hallway. First Sergeant greeted him.

  “We need to find out what this man’s done, and what he knows about Nellis and the DRI there. He’s a fighter pilot. Captain Michael King. He’s tired and injured—came in with hypothermia and frostbite—but find out as much as you can before he’s allowed to rest.”

  “Yes, sir,” the chaplain said.

  Once he disappeared into the room, First Sergeant looked to the dentist and me. “Captain Ward, you’re on shift now. Tate, come back at sixteen hundred for the evening shift.

  “Yes, sir,” we both said.

  I walked down the empty, long hall with a lightness in my heart that didn’t match our circumstances. Despite whatever disturbing situations surrounded the new guy’s arrival, and the fact that we were all hiding underground from aliens, I was hope-filled in a way I couldn’t ever remember being.

  It was because of Rylen.

  Because the secret I’d held in for so long was out there, and he hadn’t turned me away. Just the opposite. It made me want to laugh, or maybe cry. I wanted to run and tell Mom . . .

  I paused and rested a hand against the wall.

  Are you watching, Mom? I closed my eyes and sent up the silent words. Peace and joy spread through me as I imagined her beaming face, knowing she was beyond happy that Rylen and I had found one another in this madness.

  “Amber?”

  My face quickly lifted to Tater, standing only a few feet away and surveying me with worry. “Are you okay?”