by Cynthia Eden
She surged up, grabbed his hand, and they flew through the back of her store, past the boxes, the storage space, and out the rear door. An SUV was waiting there, Savannah saw a quick flash of a dark-haired woman at the wheel. Then she was basically being thrown into the back of the vehicle by Maddox. “Go!” he yelled as he surged back and slammed the door. Instead of getting in with them, he raced away.
The woman immediately had the SUV surging forward. Savannah nearly fell off the back seat. “Where’s Jett?” She grabbed for the seat in front of her.
The woman hurtled the SUV down the alley, then came out on the side next to Savannah’s store. This was Savannah’s first clear sight of the flames. They were huge.
But the driver barely slowed as she shot to the left.
“Where’s Jett?” Savannah asked again. She turned around, trying to look behind her—
Maddox had just run into the street. He crouched beside something in the road. Something? Someone? “Jett?” Savannah whispered.
The guy in the road wasn’t moving. And his head—his neck seemed to be turned at a funny angle. “Stop the car!” Savannah screamed. “Jett needs help!”
The driver didn’t stop the car. She just seemed to speed faster. Screw this. Savannah lunged for the door. Tried to shove it open.
It wouldn’t open. And there was no unlock mechanism anywhere in the back seat. Her hands flew over the door, but it was like being stuck in the back of a patrol car. No way out. “Stop the car!” Savannah blasted again. “Jett’s hurt! I need to get to him!”
“You’re the priority,” the woman fired back. “Only you.”
What? “No, Jett is a priority to me!” She stared behind her. Had Maddox picked him up? It looked as if Maddox had slung Jett’s prone body over one shoulder but she couldn’t tell for sure because the SUV was already too far away. “He shouldn’t be moved, not with a neck injury like that. He shouldn’t—”
“Jett is fine,” the driver assured her flatly. “He’ll meet you at your place, okay?”
She couldn’t see him any longer. He…he hadn’t looked fine. “Take me back to him.”
“Sorry, but it’s a big old negative on that one. Jett gave orders for me to keep you safe, and that’s what I’ll do.” Another turn. A sharp one. “Buckle up. I don’t want you flying through the windshield.”
She was numb. “His neck…”
“He’s fine.” The woman sounded absolutely certain. “Trust me on this, it takes more than a few bumps and bruises to stop Jett.”
Savannah had to swallow four times before she could speak. “It looked like more than bumps and bruises.” It had looked like death. She hooked the seat belt.
The woman stopped the vehicle. Glanced back at Savannah. Her pretty features softened as she said, “He’s going to come back to you.”
“I-I don’t know you.” Was she just supposed to believe this woman who—
“I’m Luna.” She gave Savannah a broad smile. “And I’m not lying to you. I know things are crazy, but Jett will be coming back to you. So, do me a favor, okay? Just hold it all together for a while longer.” She turned back to the road. “Don’t freak out on me.”
Savannah was about five seconds away from a serious freak out. “He looked dead.”
Luna was already driving again. “Appearances can be deceiving. Maddox had him. Your guy is fine.”
He wasn’t…her guy.
Was he?
He was just security. The man who was supposed to watch her. But it felt as if someone had driven a fist into her chest. Breathing was hard, her heart wouldn’t stop racing, and she was so afraid this Luna woman was lying to her.
Tears pricked her lashes. She kept seeing him on the road, not moving. Jett? She tried to reach him, crying out in her mind.
But there was no response. There was nothing at all.
Chapter Seven
Midnight.
The stars glittered over the water, seeming to stretch forever. Savannah was back in her beach house. Luna sat on her couch, flipping through a magazine, and Savannah knew other guards were out there—somewhere in the darkness.
“You’ve been pacing for the last hour,” Luna murmured. “You sure you don’t want to go to bed?”
“You said Jett would come to the house.” But too many hours had passed. He hadn’t come. She whirled to glare at the other woman. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“One hell of a lot.” Luna gave her a quick smile. “You don’t have clearance for all that stuff.”
Savannah growled.
“Easy!” Luna immediately threw up her hands. The magazine dropped to her lap. “Look, Jett will be here, okay? Until then, you’ve got me.” Luna was dark-haired, small, and deceptively delicate. She’d stayed by Savannah’s side ever since their mad exit from the shop. She had a quick smile and a soft laugh. She also had an intense gaze that would sweep the perimeter every now and then. As soon as they’d arrived, she’d immediately checked all of the security at Savannah’s home.
And she’d been adamant that Savannah couldn’t leave the house.
“Did someone catch the shooter?” Savannah asked her now, twisting her hands in front of her body.
“No.” A quick shake of Luna’s head. “He’d left the scene. From what I’ve been able to gather, it was a trap.”
She twisted her hands a bit harder. An old habit. When she’d been a teen, she’d twisted her hands every time she’d gotten nervous. Her father used to chide her about the habit. “A trap?”
“When Jett rushed into the room where the shooter had been, he found the place ready to blow." A shrug from Luna. “At least, that’s what Maddox told me.”
Maddox had called and spoken with Luna a few times. When Luna talked with him, her voice had softened. So had her expression.
Something Savannah filed away for later.
“He got out,” Luna added carefully.
Savannah nodded and made herself stop twisting her hands. She turned away from Luna.
“You care about him.” Luna’s contemplative voice followed her.
“Yes.” She did. How crazy was that? They’d only known each other a few days. “I told Jett I didn’t want him getting hurt for me. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Well, some people can take hurt better than others.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Before she could question Luna further, there was a sharp knock at the front door. Savannah spun back to see Luna jump from the couch. The other woman hurried toward the door, utterly confident. A quick glance at the security monitor Jett had installed showed—
Jett. Jett is at the door. So is Maddox.
She rushed for the door just as Luna opened it. Jett stood in the doorway, the faint lines near his mouth a little deeper. His eyes appeared grim, his body—
Savannah tackle-hugged him. She threw her body against his and held on as tightly as she could. His arms came around her. He pulled her against him, holding her in a grip that was fierce. She could feel his muscles against her. Those hard-as-stone muscles. His heart raced, so did hers, and she was so incredibly happy that he was there. All she wanted to do was stand there and hug him for the next hour or so.
“Savannah, we need to get back inside.”
His voice was deep, rumbling, and she looked up, staring into his eyes.
For a moment, she couldn’t move at all.
He moved her. Picked her up easily. Carried her inside.
“Uh, yeah.” Luna cleared her throat. “I’m guessing you’re in charge of night duty, Jett, so Maddox and I will leave you to it. You and Savannah catch up. We can debrief later. After you’ve both rested.” The front door shut with a soft click.
Slowly, he lowered Savannah until her bare toes touched the floor. She’d changed into an old pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt while she’d waited to get news on him. As she stood before him, Savannah just couldn’t take her gaze off Jett. Her hands were shaking a little as her fingers slid o
ver his neck. There was nothing wrong there. No break. No sign of any injury. Luna had been right. He looked fine. A little tired, his hair a little mussed—sexily mussed—but he was fine.
She wanted to hug him again.
Instead, after he locked the door and reset the security system, she found herself confessing, “You scared me.”
His hand curved under her jaw. “Why?”
“Because I thought you were dead.”
His shoulders seemed to stiffen.
“I looked back as Luna drove away, and you were on the pavement. You weren’t moving, and I could have sworn—” No, the image in her head was wrong. Absolutely wrong. He was fine. Her tongue slid over her dry lips, and then she said, “Don’t die on me, okay? Can you promise that you won’t die on me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, Jett leaned toward her. His lips brushed over hers. Soft. Gentle. At first.
At first, his lips were soft and gentle on hers. At first, he was carefully caressing her with his mouth. But then he moved his body even closer to hers. His hand slid from her chin to her arm. Down, down…until he clasped her waist. And her hands had moved to his broad shoulders. She held him, gripping too tightly even as she opened her mouth more for him.
She’d been terrified. She’d been lost. She’d been desperate. All for him. All because of him. The man she’d met so recently. The man who made her feel so much.
“I want you,” he growled those ragged words against her mouth. Deep and rough, and they seemed to sink right through her entire body.
He wanted her. She wanted him. Sure, there were a thousand reasons why they shouldn’t do this. So many reasons why she should step away…
They’d just met.
She was probably riding some insane adrenaline rush or fear high at that moment.
When the case ended, her mystery man would fade into the shadows.
He’d almost died that night.
Actually, that last reason—that was why she held him even tighter and said, “I want you, too.” Because they didn’t have forever. The kidnapping had taught her that truth. No one had forever. People weren’t promised a certain amount of time in this world. Why waste what you had? Why not grab tight to what—or who—you wanted? She wanted him. So badly.
So badly that she was the one to shove up his t-shirt. He tossed it aside, and her fingers slid over his chest. Broad, muscled and—
Bruised?
“Jett?” Her touch feathered over him.
“Nothing. Already fading. Forget it.” He swung her into his arms. Carried her into the bedroom.
She didn’t want to forget his bruises. He’d been so worried about her when she was injured, couldn’t he understand that she worried about him, too?
The bedroom was dark, but light shone in from the starlit sky. Although the balcony doors were locked, she could hear the sound of the waves as they crashed into the beach. He lowered her onto the bed. Then Jett’s careful hands stripped off her shirt. He unhooked her jeans and slid down the zipper. Her breath came faster as eagerness fueled her blood. He pulled off the jeans, and she eagerly helped him to ditch the denim. But… “You’re hurt.”
She wanted to help him—
Yet when she reached out to him, Jett caught her fingers. Brought them to his mouth. Kissed her fingertips, then slid her index finger into his mouth. He licked. Nipped. Made her moan.
“I’m hurting, all right, baby,” he agreed in a sexy rumble. “But you can make me feel good. And I’ll make you feel fucking fantastic.”
Her breath was coming faster. She was clad in her underwear, a white bra and panties. Hardly the sexiest thing ever. And he still wore his jeans and his boots—No, correction. The boots had hit the floor. His socks followed.
He crawled onto the bed, stalking and dangerous and sexy. His mouth pressed to her collarbone, and he kissed his way down, down, moving her bra out of his way. Sliding away the straps and unhooking the clasp in a quick, easy move. When the bra fell away, his mouth captured one breast. He licked. Sucked. Had her arching off the bed and wanting so much more.
She was getting wet for him. Already. His hips were between her spread legs, and when Savannah arched up against him, she felt the long, heavy length of his erection shoving through his jeans.
Those jeans needed to go.
Her nails raked down his back, then she remembered his bruises. “Jett—”
He took her other breast into his mouth. Sucked and she shuddered. A long, delicious shudder of need and want and lust.
Things had become very, very basic. Primal. She wanted him. He wanted her.
Her panties and his jeans were in the way. Flesh to flesh. That was how she wanted to be with him. She couldn’t remember hungering this way. Couldn’t remember needing anyone this way.
And she was scared—not scared of the way she felt. But scared the feeling would go away.
His hand pressed between their bodies. His fingers slid under the silk of her panties. Rubbed against her clit. Had her gasping because it felt so good.
Then he pushed a finger into her. “Baby, you are so tight. Wet…”
She was riding his hand. Pushing herself down against his fingers, trying to get more.
He pulled back. Took his hand away. She could have screamed in frustration. But then he positioned his body again. He’d moved down her body. His shoulders were between her spread legs. His mouth—that wicked mouth was over the entrance to her body. She still had on the damn panties!
He kissed her through the panties. Blew a warm breath of air over her. Then caught her clit—sucked. All through the silk.
Her toes were curling.
She was nearly coming.
Savannah was also pretty sure she was chanting his name. Again and again and again. His fingers slid under the edge of her panties. He shoved the silk to the side, and then his tongue licked over her sex.
She came right then as a scream broke from her lips.
The climax ripped through her whole body, sending waves of pleasure surging through her. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her muscles tightened. It was so good, so, so good.
“I don’t have a fucking condom.”
Her eyes opened. Jett was above her. His face was locked into hard, tense lines. His arms were braced on either side of her body.
“Baby, I’m clean. I swear it. They run constant tests on us at the base.”
She could barely catch her breath.
“And I-I can’t have kids. You don’t have to worry about that risk.”
Her hand rose to press to his cheek. “I’m clean, too.” She wanted this. Wanted him.
His right hand lifted. She heard the rasp of his zipper. And then the wide head of his cock pushed at the entrance to her body. Savannah sucked in a sharp breath as she arched toward him, and then he was inside, filling her completely. Every single inch.
For a moment, he just stared at her. She stared at him. She’d never felt closer to a lover.
Then he withdrew. Thrust. Withdrew.
Drove deep.
The bed began to squeak beneath them.
Her legs locked around his hips. Need spiraled through her. She’d just climaxed. She should have been sated. She wasn’t.
He kissed her. Dipped his tongue into her mouth, and she loved the way he tasted. His body angled down so that every withdraw and every thrust had the long length of his cock brushing over her clit. Making her wilder. Making her desperate.
“I want to feel it when you come. I want to feel your pleasure.”
He was sure about to feel it. The climax was building, building and—
It hit her. Slammed into her and for a moment, everything went dark—probably because she was squeezing her eyes shut so hard. The pleasure was the most intense that she’d ever felt in her entire life. Toe-curling, body-shaking, mind-numbing pleasure.
And he was right there with her. Driving into her. Growling her name. She felt the hot jet of his release inside of her, and then he was kissing her. So
ft, tender kisses.
She heard frantic drumming and realized it was her heart.
Her breath came in hard heaves.
He slid from her body. Pulled her into his side. Held her.
There were things she should say. Things she should do.
But she just curled closer to him. She put her hand over Jett’s heart. Felt the frantic beat.
And her eyes closed.
He was alive. He was safe. He was with her.
That was all that mattered.
***
“Can you promise that you won’t die on me?” Savannah’s soft question drifted through Jett’s mind as he lay in bed, holding her. She’d fallen asleep next to him. In sleep, she looked so innocent and beautiful.
When she’d asked him for the promise, he hadn’t given her those words. Because he couldn’t give Savannah that promise. Truth be fucking told, he’d died that day. He hadn’t survived the force of that explosion throwing him from the second story of that building and careening into the pavement below.
But he’d come back.
As he’d done before. As he’d do again.
Because he was a freak of nature now. A true killing machine who worked for Uncle Sam. His life wasn’t his own. His lives weren’t his own.
So, no, he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t die. But he could promise that he’d come back. Over and over again.
For her, he would.
His head turned as he gazed down at her.
He should have kept his hands off her. Should have guarded her and nothing more. But when her door had opened and she’d run to him, when she’d looked at him like he was everything she’d ever wanted, Jett had realized the truth…
She’s mine. I’m hers.
It was like he’d found the other part of his soul. Even when he wasn’t supposed to have one. Did the dead have souls?
But his heart beat. He breathed. He needed. He ached. He did everything a normal man could do. When he’d died the first time and been brought into the Lazarus program, his body had been injected with a serum that had reanimated him—and given him the added bonuses that made him such a good warrior.
It was those bonuses that would help him to hunt down the bastard after Savannah.
