Wrath (Operation Outreach Book 1)

by Elle Thorne

  “Excellent.” And just like that, the governor exited the room.

  Caayn was left alone with the woman he loved but couldn’t have, and the man who was clearly her significant other.

  And oddly enough, he didn’t even care to hear what her reason was for wanting to see Baldwin Porter. Didn’t matter anymore.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” he said through a clenched jaw. He made a 180 and took a stride toward the door.

  Except that his way was blocked by the dark man.

  “Razor,” Smyrna said.

  The dark man—clearly his name was Razor?—glanced at her. “No. There’s a problem here. And I think I’m at the center of it. Or something is.”

  “Move, please.” Caayn made his hands into fists, so tight they hurt. And so painful, he burned to plant them into something—preferably this Razor’s face.

  “I don’t think so,” Razor said.

  The other big man stepped next to Razor.

  So now I have to plow through both?

  Caayn knew he could hold his own in a fight. But he wondered if he could hold it against these two guys.

  Somehow, he wasn’t sure.

  “Please, don’t do this.” Smyrna’s voice came from behind him.

  Between the wide shoulders of Razor and his companion, her eyes implored them not to wage war.

  Caayn nodded, then turned to Razor. “What is it? Why do you seek to block my exit?”

  “Because it’s not what she wants.” Razor’s gaze held a contingent of pride while at the same time conveying humility. “And it’s my place in her life to ensure she gets what she wants.”

  Behind Razor’s back, Smyrna released a scoffing laugh.

  Razor turned to glare at her. “Hush, you.”

  Caayn scowled. Why? He wasn’t sure he could answer that honestly himself. Because he was jealous. Because he didn’t care for their familiarity. Because he wanted to be the one that ensured she got what she wanted.

  Yes. All of the above.

  “What is it you think she wants,” he asked Razor.

  The big man next to Razor—equally big—chuckled. “I’m not sure who is more blind here.”

  Razor put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Branson. I might agree with you, brother.”

  They both nodded as they regarded Smyrna and Caayn.

  “Care to clear this up?” Caayn was losing patience with their beating around the bush.

  “Smyrna is a fool.”

  Caayn stiffened at the remark, found himself barely containing his temper, his hands itched to inflict pain on the dark man who spoke about her this way.

  “See? Even now, you defend her,” Razor said with a grin. “You can’t hide how it bothers you to see her under the slightest bit of attack.”

  “It isn’t wise to bait me,” he warned Razor.

  Branson stepped forward. “He’s not baiting you. He’s waiting for you two to go ahead and own it. If you’re not too scared.”

  Smyrna leapt out of the bed and stormed toward Branson. Stepping in front of Caayn, she shoved her finger in Branson’s chest. Repeatedly. That chest didn’t give an inch. Her finger didn’t sink into flesh, it bounced off hard muscle.

  Caayn coughed.

  She glared at him. “He’s attacking me. And you. And—”

  Caayn looked at her back pointedly. Then cleared his throat.

  Her face turned the shade of skin that had been burnt. She hastily pulled the folds of her hospital gown shut. “Don’t look at my ass,” she snapped at Caayn.

  Caayn shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a piece of work.”

  Razor laughed. A low, genuine sound that came from deep within. “Ain’t she, though? Just ain’t she?”

  “Screw all of you.” Mustering absolutely no dignity, she walked backwards, heels first to the bed.

  Caayn looked into Razor’s face and found nothing but friendliness there. He indicated Smyrna with his head. “There’s nothing…”

  Caayn didn’t need to finish his sentence.

  Razor clearly got his drift. “She’s like a baby sister, man. To both of us.”

  “Baby sister, my ass,” Smyrna pouted.

  And what a fine ass indeed, Caayn thought.

  “May I have a moment with her? We are bound by a hand-fast, after all.”

  “Only for a damned year,” Smyrna exclaimed. “After that—”

  She never had a chance to finish her thought.

  Caayn’s lips claimed hers, drowning out her protests.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Getting Smyrna out of the hospital and to his home was no small task. She was his woman and they were going home. Her eyes were filled with wonder at the sights of the capital city of Janus. She was in the same dress she’d been in before, only the hospital had laundered it.

  She’d put it on with disgust and told him she wanted her pants.

  Caayn had laughed and told her he’d buy her an assortment of pants. Some of them harem pants. She’d smacked him with the back of his hand.

  “I won’t wear harem pants.”

  “Ever?”

  She’d given him a slight, teasing smile. “Well, maybe I will make an exception.”

  She’d let him in, shared her secrets with him as they’d ridden toward his home—their home, he corrected himself—when she wasn’t gawking at Asmute.

  She’d told him about Leticia. About Baldwin Porter. How he’d given Smyrna that scar on her neck the same day he’d killed Leticia. How she’d joined a bounty hunter firm—with assistance and training from Razor, just enough training to help her get hired—and how she’d pursued Baldwin Porter until he’d fled to Janus.

  Then she’d used Operation Outreach to follow him to Janus.

  “You’re incredible.” Caayn kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman quite so—”

  “Stupid?” she said with a smile.

  “Resourceful, brilliant, brave, beautiful, exquisite. Those are the words I was thinking.”

  “Keep those words coming.” She blushed.

  “Coming…” he waggled his eyebrows.

  “Caayn!” Her blush grew.

  “Who would have thought you blush so easily,” he mused. By the lava that flowed from the volcanoes on Marcomal, he was falling deeper and deeper in love with this woman.

  He carried her over the threshold, an ancient tradition long practiced by his people, and took her into his bedroom, a place he’d never shared with another.

  It was one of those perfect moments when everything came together the way it was supposed to. He was there, with her.

  She was staring at him with those dark eyes of hers, her full lips parted.

  He leaned in slowly, savoring the moment. Her breath was hot, sweet—he felt it on his face the closer he moved until finally, finally he made contact. His mind flashed back to the hand-fasting. The moment he knew without a doubt that he’d do anything for her. That she was the only woman he’d ever want.

  Their mouths touched gently at first, just brushing across each other. That was more than enough. It was like something deep inside him that hadn’t been touched in a long time was suddenly unleashed.

  In the nanoseconds it took for him to close his eyes and sink deeper into the kiss, pressing his lips to hers, Smyrna seemed to go from being hesitant to ragingly passionate. Her body melted into his as her arms wound around Caayn’s neck.

  He had to touch her. He wanted so much more than just contact. She was warm, soft, smooth. Her arms, her shoulders. The nape of her neck. Caayn needed more and more. And he needed it now.

  Stroking the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, he let his fingers trail lower until they ran over her spine, sending shivers up and down the length and making her arms tighten around him.

  He pressed his hands against the small of her back and pulled her to him until he was between her legs. One hand ran up her leg, under her dress—he knew she would quit wearing very soon, she’d already expr
essed her disdain—gliding over smooth muscle and soft skin.

  And still, they kissed.

  He touched his tongue to hers and felt her shiver again, then probed the sweet, wet heat of her mouth. She moaned deeply in the back of her throat and he felt her hips flexing, thrusting in his direction.

  His length sprang to life as she started gently moving against him. He held her even closer with the hand pressed against her lower back as he guided her onto the floor.

  She followed his lead.

  They were stretched out on their sides, face-to-face, hands roaming over each other as their kisses deepened into something more.

  She touched something deep inside him, something as deep as what he obviously sparked in her.

  He wanted to possess her.

  He wanted to make her scream his name and beg him for more and tell him nobody would ever touch her the way he did, not ever.

  He wanted to make her his.

  He wanted the leg that draped over his thigh to only know his touch.

  He wanted the ass he was stroking with the tips of his fingers to bear the imprint of his fingers for as long as she lived.

  She was his. Nobody else’s. It was inevitable. It always had been. Why there was any denial, on either of their parts, he had no idea.

  Something inside him roared and refused to be silenced—and when her passion met his, he knew it was right. He knew when her leg tightened around him and she whispered, “More,” when he slid his fingers under the panties she wore, that she was just as ready as he was.

  He didn’t pause when he touched the skin beneath those panties. The heat between her thighs drew him in, made him keep exploring until he dipped into her hot, wet slickness.

  “Yes!” she gasped, breaking their kiss, running her fingers through his hair and holding his head tightly against her neck as his mouth slid over her.

  He lapped at her, wanting more of her sweetness, more and more as long as it meant she kept gasping and groaning and whispering his name.

  Her hips drove against him and the friction was almost too much to take. He wouldn’t be able to stand much more without shooting off in his pants like a kid. He pulled his hips away from hers, putting some space between them, then rolled her onto her back, sliding his hands under her dress and working it over her head. Her breasts were perfect, her nipples tight and hard.

  He closed his mouth over one and sucked while he thumbed the other.

  “Yes… just like that…” she whimpered, holding him close, arching.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him close again.

  He didn’t fight back—instead, he drove himself against her over and over, grinding into her, teasing her and himself at once. He lapped at her skin, up and down her torso, over her ribs, her navel, then down even lower as he worked the skirt down over her hips and past her thighs.

  Her panties were wet, and the scent of her arousal filled his senses until there was nothing else in the world that mattered. He tore the flimsy satin to bits and buried his face between her thighs.

  Her hips shot up off the floor—he held her down to take what he was giving. She came in seconds, her entire body going stiff, thighs squeezing his head. He stayed in place while she rode the orgasm out.

  When she let him up for air, gasping and moaning softly, he planted soft kisses along the insides of her thighs.

  “I want to see you.” She stroked his arms, up to his shoulders, then down his back. “All of you.”

  She pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his pants and over his head. Her hands were hot on his already overheated skin.

  “You’re beautiful,” she whispered as her fingers danced over him. “More.”

  He lowered himself over her while she opened his trousers and pushed them down.

  He sprang free—blessed volcanoes of Alvas—and one of her hands wrapped around him.

  “So thick,” she breathed, kissing him as she stroked. “So delicious looking.”

  It was his turn to groan into her mouth, almost helpless now that she was touching him. It had been so long. Too long.

  She spread her legs wider, inviting him.

  She cried out and raked his shoulders until he winced but he kept moving, faster, harder. He couldn’t take her slowly. He didn’t want to. He didn’t think she wanted him to either, judging by the way her teeth sank into his shoulder and her nails dug into his ass.

  He held on until she started tightening around him, gasping, her cries higher and higher pitched. When she screamed his name with her mouth against the side of his neck, he let go. They came through on the other side together, holding each other, breathing heavily and slick with sweat.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “How do you feel about traveling?” Caayn traced patterns into Smyrna’s back as she lay on the bed in a state of ultimate relaxation.

  “I traveled here, didn’t I?”

  “I mean, on a regular basis. On Javelin, with me.”

  She smiled. “I’d love to.”

  She couldn’t imagine anything she’d rather do than be with this incredible man. Who would have thought that love meant… this?

  A knock interrupted her train of thought.

  “The front door.” Caayn shoved the sheets aside and reached for his pants.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” she asked him.

  “I’m expecting solitude with my woman.” He headed toward the door, glancing back at her. “I’ll get rid of them.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  “No. Stay. I’ll get rid of whomever it is.”

  Five minutes later, she was still alone. Curiosity got the best of her. She dressed swiftly—in the pants he’d promised her, and indeed gotten her. No, not harem pants. She headed downstairs.

  She heard laughter, and voices she recognized coming from the front room. Following the sounds, she stood at the doorway, her hands planted on her hips.

  “I should have known.”

  Razor and Branson were sitting at the table across from Caayn.

  Caayn rose, held a chair out for her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry. I was detained.”

  She raised a brow. “So I see.”

  Though she acted with skepticism, she couldn’t begin to explain how much it thrilled her that Caayn and Razor had become friends. These two men meant more than anything to her—well, Branson, too, if she had to admit it—and to have them not only getting along, but also enjoying one another.

  “Dare I ask what sort of mischief you three are up to?”

  “Razor was asking if I knew of anyone who might be hiring. Seems he’s not interested in returning to Earth just yet.”

  Razor nodded. “Thought I’d stick around this side of the universe for a while.”

  Smyrna smiled, and knew she was beaming. “Well, do you?” she asked Caayn.

  “I need a couple of good crew members. And I’ve got a hunch these two might be good for security.”

  You have no idea. Smyrna clamped down on the urge to clap for joy.

  “So, they’ll be traveling with us?”

  “Us?” Razor looked at Caayn.

  “Thought she could go with me on the safer assignments.”

  “Safer?” Smyrna practically screeched. “You never said anything about safer.”

  “You didn’t think I’d let you—”

  “Oh, boy, here we go.” Branson laughed.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  A couple days later with the Javelin fueled up, Caayn, Razor, and Branson loaded the last of the supplies and perishables while Smyrna carried her bag to their room.

  “So are we ready to go?” Mn’eth asked.

  “Just waiting for Rush,” Caayn told him.

  “I haven’t seen him since…” Mn’eth shrugged.

  “He doesn’t stay gone for long. He’ll be back soon. We’re in no hurry yet, since we haven’t been given an assignment. Though, I’m sure we’ll find one as soon as we get out of the radio range of
Janus.”

  Caayn had enlightened her on the topics of black marketers and corsairs, and how they were more apt to keep radio silence when Janus emissaries might intercept communications.

  Caayn looked at the cabinet that held the communicators. He’d explained when they were docked, whenever they left the ship, they usually took one with them so they could be reached, in case of emergencies. Caayn said it was unlike Rush to forget to take one with him.

  “Maybe he thought he’d be right back,” Smyrna said. “I’m going to take these to our quarters.”

  Our quarters. She thought of the place where she’d stayed, not knowing her fate, waiting to find Baldwin Porter. And now, this was the bed—and room—she would share with the man she’d pledged herself to.

  She set the bag on the chair and turned around. “Caayn!”

  He’d silently followed her in. “I thought a proper christening of the room was in order.”

  Smyrna smiled, then bit her lip with anticipation. She didn’t push him away. She melted against him, instead, and her body responded—nipples tightening, back arching, and a deep, wet heat building deep within her core.

  “Yes…” she whispered just before his mouth closed over hers ready to indulge herself in feeling his firm rippling muscles under her hands.

  He was so beautiful and perfect, and he was all hers. She kept reminding herself that he was all hers, and he wanted her, and she could let herself stop worrying or thinking or feeling anything but sweet, burning pleasure.

  They’d been through the worst. Surely, the best was yet to come.

  Passion raced through her in little tongues of fire, lighting her up from the inside while Caayn’s tongue slid into her mouth.

  She tilted her head back and sighed, eyes closing, and the groan from deep in his throat made her core tighten deliciously.

  His mouth moved lower, to her chest, his tongue licking and swirling.

  She arched her back to press her body closer to him, moaning as he closed over one of her aching nipples.

  “You’re so amazing,” he panted as he lapped at them, making her squirm and writhe.