“I’m sure she didn’t. However, I was thinking more of Dardinian silk.” He trailed his fingers through her hair, brushing chestnut strands away from her face.
Mary blushed but didn’t look away. She found accepting compliments difficult because she questioned the sincerity behind them. Given her history, he couldn’t blame her.
He gazed down into her face for a long time. Mary, Mary, quite contrary. That swirling of floral citrus overwhelmed him until he couldn’t stand the torment anymore. He lowered his head and kissed her. A soft pressure at first, nibbling and slow, she tasted like a rare, rich blood orange. All sweet juice and tender flesh.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight, deepening the contact by opening her mouth and body to him. She growled as she pulled him close. Like in the dojo, the kiss went wild, fierce. His heart pounded as she kissed him with aggressive passion. He tried to be gentle in light of her broken foot, but she made urgent, hungry sounds into his mouth as she pulled his body atop hers by maneuvering his weight with the silk bedcover. Her insistent strength amazed him.
Michael helped her angle his body atop hers, ever careful of her cast-bound leg. She plunged her tongue into his mouth as her hips rose up in a swift thrust, pressing his erection tightly between them. He almost came in his pants.
“Slow down.” He lifted himself on his elbows, trying to think, to reason. A faint voice in the back of his head reminded him that he’d sworn to Duster he wouldn’t hurt her. Almost in the same breath came the realization that Duster wasn’t here.
“I don’t want it slow.” She slid her hand down his silk-covered chest to his leather-clad erection. Palming him, she lifted her hand to his button fly, grasped it and pulled. The first two rivet-buttons popped apart, but the rest held fast. Hissing a low, guttural stream of sexy profanity, she yanked at his fly with growing frustration.
Groaning, inflamed, he pushed the thin cotton of her shirt up to stroke her small, perfect breasts. Dark coffee-colored nipples tightened below the soft twisting of his fingers. The taste of her hardened him further and his now full erection made opening his fly impossible. He captured her hands and pulled them away.
She writhed, moving against him, her breath hot and fast against his neck. He slid his hand beneath her skirt and up her thighs. He wanted to tug away her panties—she didn’t have any on, and he knew why. If she couldn’t fit pants over her cast, how could she fit panties? Shocked by his discovery, he nonetheless made the most of the opportunity.
He slid his fingers against her. Entranced by the rise and fall of her hips, the luscious scent of pleasure and need emanating from her, he teased and tormented until she uttered wild animal grunts of frustration.
Her hand fumbled at his fly again, but he moved away. “No.”
“Huh?” She opened her eyes, seemed to suddenly realize what was happening, and tried to push his hands away as she lowered her skirt. “Stop. I can’t—”
“It won’t go any further than this. Let me please you. I swear, only this.” He leaned down to nuzzle her lips, distracting her while he explored the soft heat between her thighs. “Open to me.”
She sighed as she allowed him better access, her protest forgotten as desire took over. He knew she had not climaxed since she’d been in his home, as he could smell her need for release. He traced his finger up to her clit with a light stroke.
“Don’t tease me.”
Her aggressive insistence excited him. Concentrating on a quick, hard, rhythmic stroke with his thumb, he covered her mouth with his own.
Moving with his hand, she whimpered hungrily against his mouth. Her scent conveyed her longing for penetration. As his thumb grew more insistent, his fingers slid into the splendor of her lust-spread legs but made no effort to fill the passage between.
“Please, please,” she moaned.
Pulling back, he whispered, “Look at me. I want to watch your beautiful face.” He readied his fingers to thrust her to climax with the beat of his thumb, but she shook her head and placed her hands over her head in surrender.
Her eyes shut tight and her entire body trembled. When she cried out, he slanted his mouth over hers and drowned out part of her moan as he danced his strong hand between her legs. He palmed her and rocked her, kissing her as he reveled in the scent of her orgasm. Honey-slick spice.
Her hips bucked, her body begging for penetration that he held back with a teasing seduction. She climaxed again and again against his palm. Never in all his experiences had he known a reaction so primal.
The scent of her orgasm, floral citrus, verdant earth, smoky and sharp—the most intoxicating perfume he’d ever known—made his mouth water. He slid down her body, hungry for a taste of her tender flesh.
Her hot, slick thighs parted for him, and he pushed the cotton skirt farther up her belly, enjoying the tickle of her pubic hair against his chin as he moved closer to the feast he anticipated.
Her hands, clenched tightly against his head, stopped him short of his goal. He looked up into her wide, frightened eyes as the scent of her pleasure changed to fear.
“I’ll tell you, okay?”
He frowned up at her.
“I’ll tell you why, and then you let me go, okay?” Curling her legs together, pushing down her skirt, she blurted, “Weapons.” She pulled farther away from him, trembling. “There. I liberated your goods to buy weapons. You have to let me go now, since that was the deal.”
His head spun. She’d just yanked him on another screeching turn. Fear, base and dark as turned earth, pushed aside that compelling aroma of edible pleasure.
“Weapons?” He’d expected anything but that.
“Yeah-huh. Satisfied?” She looked away, red suffusing her face. “You have to let me go, since I told you the reason.”
She tried to wriggle out of bed, but he pulled her back.
Weapons would have been his last guess, and weapons on that scale? Who was she planning to…oh, no. “Killing everyone isn’t going to solve your problem.” He had to talk her out of seeking revenge on the people who’d abused her.
“I don’t want to kill everyone, just those f’idiots who—”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“What do you mean you can’t let me?” She glared up at him. “It’s none of your damned business, you arrogant bastard. Get off me!”
Despite the cast, and her still smarting hands, she struggled with him. She didn’t strike out directly, as she still feared the inert Baka bracelet, but she attempted to twist her way out of his grasp.
He pinned her wrists to the bed and used his body to hold her. “There is no way I’m going to let you arm yourself to go home and kill the folks who tormented you.”
“What are you talking about?” After a long moment, understanding rushed into her face, and her eyes widened. “You think I want to kill everyone in Pine Glenn?”
When she burst out laughing, he let go of her and sat up.
“You think killing those people who, yes, sorely deserve some kind of punishment for tormenting you is funny?”
“No, you’re funny. What kind of total freak do you think I am?” Mary snickered as she sat up. “Kill everyone. You got it bassakwards, Co-man-dur. I don’t want to kill them. Yeah, some of them richly deserve it, but no, I don’t want to kill them.”
“Then what do you need weapons for?”
“To save them.” She said it as if it were obvious to even the thickest dunderhead.
Perplexed, he sat even farther back. “Save them from what?”
She scowled at the far wall and crossed her arms over her chest. He despised that look of determined defiance on her face. Why did she have to make everything a battle royal? He calmly repeated his question. “Save them from what?”
She flashed him a quick glance and looked back at the wall. “You said if I told you why I liberated your goods, you’d let me go. I told you why: weapons. Now, you let me go.”
When she tried to slip off the bed, he pinned
her down again. “Answer my question.”
She squirmed below him. Much smaller than he, she still had a compact, surprising strength. Only her cast-bound foot, injured hands and the false threat of Baka held her in check, but that didn’t hamper her much.
“I answered you. Now get off me, you big—”
“You call me one more vile name, and I promise, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” He wasn’t sure what frustrated him more, his thwarted sexual needs or her ever-defiant attitude.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
She barely hesitated. “You f’idiot.”
He leapt off her and strode to the bathroom. When he came out with one of the decorative, rose-shaped soaps in his hand, she had made her way across the bed and tried to get the crutches under her arms. He rounded the bed, took them away and pushed her back onto the mattress.
“You bastard!” She crawled away, but he pinned her and sat across her hips. “You put that soap anywhere near my mouth, and I’ll bite your damn hand off!”
“Really?” He leaned close. “What if I do this?” He kissed her. At first, she refused to kiss him back. Below his lips, all he felt was her scowl. But then, with a groan of surrender, she opened her mouth to him, and he tossed the soap aside. After a thorough kissing, he leaned back. “Now, answer my question.”
“I did.”
“You haven’t answered the entirety of why.” He kept his voice low. “Why do you want to save the very people who have tormented you your whole life?” Even with a million years, he’d never understand this compelling, infuriating woman.
“Because I have a hero complex. I think I’m Robin Hood and Overlord all rolled up into one. Chalk it up to delusions of grandeur.” She began to struggle in earnest, shoving at his shoulders. “Get off me.”
He pressed her to the bed with the full strength of his body as he pinned her hands beside her head. Silk offered her little traction but caused a lot of friction between his body and hers. Distracting as hell. If she didn’t stop, he would have to take another cold shower in the locker-room.
“What do you need to save them from?” Sexual frustration, combined with blatant curiosity, made his voice desperate, almost strident.
“If I tell you, will you help me?” Her velvet-brown eyes looked up at him with guarded hope.
Mercifully, she stopped wriggling, allowing him to regain some of his equanimity. “I might.”
She scowled and considered, debating the options in her own mind for a very long time. She finally met his gaze. “An IWOG invasion.”
His jaw dropped. Then, despite his best efforts, despite knowing it would hurt her feelings, he climbed off her and did the one thing he might never be able to come back from.
He laughed at Mary.
Chapter Twenty
Mary settled into her peach silk bed. What had she expected? Of course he laughed. Who wouldn’t? Remarkably Average Mary tries to save her world from an IWOG civilization attempt. Ludicrous. Even more so when she had a broken foot to contend with. Who was she kidding? Even with both feet, the deadliest weapons strapped to her body and a huge army behind her, just the idea would send people into gales of hysterics.
Commander stifled himself. “Oh, Mary, I’m sorry.”
He reached for her, but she moved away. “Don’t stop on my account. Have yourself a good, jolly laugh while you can, because some day, they’ll come for your world too.” She tried to slip off the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He gripped her upper arm, making it damn clear he could keep her here if he wanted.
“Anywhere you’re not. Let me go.” She tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp but couldn’t free herself.
“I wasn’t laughing at you.” He sounded sincere, but his mirth still hurt. Every time she came close to trusting him, he did something to drive her away.
“Well, you certainly weren’t laughing with me, because I wasn’t laughing.” She tried to pry his fingers off her arm, but her injured hands hampered her efforts, and she winced back.
He must have noticed, because he let go. “I wasn’t laughing at you, but at the idea of the IWOG invading Taiga.” Rolling away from her, he sat up, cross-legged, on her bed.
“Why is that funny?”
“Because Taiga is worthless.”
Hurt, then angry, she wanted to slap him. “Not to me.”
“I mean money-wise.”
His absolute conviction shocked her silent.
“Mary, look, Taiga is a lumber planet. No heavy metals. No other valuable resources. Civilizing the planet would cost more than they could ever extract from it. Nothing moves those bastards more than the bottom line, and Taiga simply isn’t worth the effort.”
What he said made sense but conflicted with everything she’d believed in for the last five years. “Then why are they always sniffing around? If you’re so all-fire-smart, explain that.”
His expression grew grim and his dark brows drew down into a hard V. “Define sniffing around.”
At least he wasn’t laughing anymore. Maybe she could convince him to let her go, or even better, convince him to help her. With his money and power…if Commander stood ready to fight the IWOG, nobody would laugh at him.
“IWOG officers show up unannounced at the courthouse all the time, scaring the crap out of Emmet. They march around as if they own the place. They glare at everyone like we’re something nasty they’re afraid to step in.”
Commander frowned as he considered her across the bed. “I can’t even think of a reason for them to go there.”
She found his bewildered tone insulting. “Whether you think I can fight them off or not, I think they’re coming, and I will do everything in my power to stop them.” She hated most of the folks of Pine Glenn for the nasty way they treated her, but she still didn’t want IWOG scum taking over her home world, worthless as Taiga might seem to an outsider.
His gaze touched and probed, feather light, as if he could determine her truthfulness. When he leaned close, sniffing her, she pulled away. Commander’s dark brows lowered farther.
“Have you been stealing my goods and turning them over to Emmet so he can buy weapons? Is he the one who convinced you the IWOG invasion is imminent?”
“Sonofabitch.” He’d nailed it dead on. He knew everything because of her big stupid mouth, and now he would use the information like a blade twisted in her belly. “I knew you wouldn’t help.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Her breasts still felt the touch of his hands, the press of his lips. Much lower, he’d assuaged her painful ache with his skilled strokes. She’d almost screamed when he’d finally done what she hadn’t dared to do—release her tension. But by subduing her body, he’d left her vulnerable, then he’d picked her brain clean.
“You’re just pumping me for information to satisfy your curiosity.”
“I’m trying to help.” He lifted his hands as if to touch her but settled them in his lap. “You’ve got to trust me.”
She didn’t dare look at him. Like a hypnotizing snake, his eyes would lure her farther into the seduction trap. She knew her mission to save Taiga didn’t mean anything to him.
“Trust you? I broke my foot, not my brain.” She pointed to her cast-bound foot. “I trusted you so much, I ended up with that.” Incredulous, she finally met his gaze. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you.”
“Because I’m probably the only hope you have.”
“Hope for what?” She propped her leg on the pillows. “To be jerked around some more? Thank you, but no. I get enough of that from my own people.”
“That report I had—”
“Was a pack of lies.” She cut him off. “And I’m not going to believe you now any more than I did then.” She sat up in a pathetic bid to get close to a defensive posture. Ten pounds of plaster more than hampered her movements.
“I think you will.” He cleared his throat. “The report was mostly blank.”
Her mouth dropped open. “So you admit you were jerking me around.” Vindicated, she sat up with a triumphant air. “I knew it!” Her gaze bored into his. “I should have dumped that hot coffee right in your lap.”
“You don’t need any help getting my lap hot.” He flashed her a suggestive wink. Before she could blast him with a nasty retort, he lifted his hand. “I’m trying to be honest with you, okay? Yes, I lied about the report. I had a mostly blank piece of paper that pushed your hot button, so I used it. I’m sorry.” He had the grace to look ashamed. “I knew you wouldn’t tell me anything willingly, so I thought—”
“You’d jerk me around.” She balled her hands into fists, then winced when she dug her nails into her wounded palms.
“I made a mistake.” His tone sharpened. “I’m trying to tell you that and apologize, but you’re making this impossible. Just shut up for once and listen to me.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Let me lay things out.”
She nodded, willing to listen, cast-bound as she was to her own bed. Every time she tried to get away from him, he just pinned her down. Cringing internally, she realized how much she liked being pressed down by him.
“I’m a very rich man. I can pay for information well beyond the limit that prohibits most. I have operatives throughout the whole of the Void. IWOG, WAG, Fringe—I’m everywhere.”
“You and your stupid money deal again.” Disappointment filled her, and she turned away.
“I’m not bragging.” With one gentle touch of his finger to her chin, he compelled her to meet his gaze. “Even with all my resources, I couldn’t track anything on your birth parents.”
She frowned and fiddled with her pillows. He seemed genuinely baffled by his inability to procure the answers he wanted. “So? You hit the same wall I did. Big deal.”
“You’re not grasping this. You hit a wall because your resources are limited by time and money, correct?”
She nodded reluctantly.
“I don’t have that problem. My time is one thing, but I can buy time. I can buy people to make their time mine, and I spent a fortune, but nobody had any information on your real parents.”
Overlord: The Fringe, Book 2 Page 17
