“What happened to dropping the subject?” He really didn’t want to talk at all. If she pushed too hard, he’d stop indulging her.
“I agreed to stop asking about Varrik. This is completely different.”
Technically, she was correct and this topic wasn’t nearly as painful. “Hunting mates was one task among many.” He traced her collar bone and the hollow beneath. Her skin was even softer here than on her arms.
She grew restless beneath his touch and still she didn’t try to stop him. “What were some of the other tasks? Take me through your typical day.”
Intrigued by her willingness to allow his exploration, he drew her bra strap down her arm. The top edge of her bra rolled downward, exposing another inch of her creamy flesh. “We are mercenaries. We did what any other soldier does. We trained, we gathered intel, we prepared for missions and fought wars.”
“But the Great Conflict was over before you were born. What wars are you talking about?”
Most Ontarians believed the Shadow Assassins wandered around in their maze frustrated and idle because the Great Conflict had ended. It was a ridiculous notion, one that had obviously been passed on to Morgan. “The House of Joon was not our only employer. In fact, they were not our primary employer. The Shadow Maze was our base of operations, but we frequently left Ontariese.” He pulled down her other bra strap and she quickly righted the first. That was more like it. He preferred Morgan when she was feisty. “If you won’t offer me your mouth, I’ll find something else to kiss.”
Her gaze flew to his, anxious and smoldering with heat she was trying to hide. “When did you meet Sevrin? Did she approach you or was it the other way around?”
“Offer me your mouth or you forfeit your bra. You have two seconds to choose.”
Anger sparked to life within her expressive eyes. “You’re a bully. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’ve been called worse.” Two seconds elapsed and she wasn’t kissing him, so he reached for the fasteners at the back of her bra.
She twisted away from his hand then rolled to her knees. After a rebellious pause, she swung her leg over his and straddled his thighs. “My mouth is all I’m offering.” She whispered the words as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
Her scent reached him first, warm, clean, lightly floral, and incredibly arousing. He buried his fingers in her hair, knowing it was the only way to keep his hands from wandering at will. Her soft lips parted for the first brush of his tongue and Nazerel was lost. He kissed her deeply, wildly as hunger unfurled inside him. He wanted her beneath him, arching into each thrust as he filled her completely. She was human—and his enemy. Why was she unleashing these urges in him?
He moved his head to a better angle and kissed her again. At first she submitted to the onslaught, allowing him to take what he desired. But little by little she awakened in his arms. Her lips moved and then her tongue dueled with his.
Desire, hot and demanding, tore through him. His cock hardened with enough pressure to make him groan and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tight against his body.
“Enough.” She broke away suddenly now flushed and panting. “I think I more than paid for my sandwich.”
She tried to crawl off his lap, but he grasped her hips, not yet ready to let her go. “I thought you wanted to hear about Sevrin.” Passion clogged his throat, making his voice sound thick.
“Your ears stop working if I sit next to you?” For the first time since he met her, he saw fear in her eyes. Why had their kisses frightened her when all of his threats and intimidation had not? He lifted his hands and let her shift to his side. She didn’t stop there. She scurried to the top of the bed and slipped her legs in between the two sleeping bags as she leaned back against the tent pole.
I won’t hurt you. The words formed within his mind, but he bit them back before they escaped. Fear was useful. She would surrender sooner if she were afraid of him, so why did he find the reaction so unsettling?
“Sevrin,” she prompted. “Did she approach you?”
“We corresponded through an agent in the beginning and then directly after Sevrin had deemed me worthy of trust. We actually met for the first time on Earth.”
“That didn’t really answer the question.” Her gaze darted to him and then away. He’d never seen her so rattled. “Who started the correspondence?”
Her reaction to their kiss was far more interesting than the conversation. Nazerel crawled toward her, his hands on either side of her legs. “Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset,” she snapped, her voice higher than usual.
“Your skin is still flushed and you won’t look at me. You’re either feeling guilty or you’re terrified and neither reaction makes sense.”
As if to prove him wrong, she glared into his eyes. “Did they teach you how to do this?”
“How to do what?”
“How to systematically unravel a woman? Was seduction 101 part of your training?”
A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips. “Is it working?”
“I’m serious. Did someone teach you how to deal with your captives? There’s a structure to what you’re doing.”
He sat back on his heels and debated what to tell her. She seemed honestly curious now, if a bit defensive. “I’m an alpha hunter, sweetheart. I was the teacher, not the student.”
Her eyes widened as understanding burned away her fear. She pressed her lips into a tight, disapproving line then gradually regained her composure. “You taught the other hunters, but someone had to teach you. No one is born knowing the psychology of mind control.”
“Mind control.” He laughed. “Kissing me made you want sex, so I must be brainwashing you. That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”
“Do you deny that there’s a psychology to what you’re doing?”
Before he answered he moved off her and folded his legs in front of him. The position uncomfortable now thanks to the erection he still sported. “You’re a field operative, likely working for or with the FBI. Were you taught how to read body language and facial expressions?”
“Of course.”
“The techniques are similar. All I’ve done is watched you and adjusted my approach according to your reactions. When your skin flushes and your respiration speeds, I know it’s time to push harder. When you grow still and defensive, it’s better to back off and wait until you calm down.”
“Can we talk about something else? This subject is annoying.”
“You’re the one who wants to talk.” He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. “I’d much rather continue our exploration.”
Rather than rising to the bait, she scooted over, putting even more space between them. “Sevrin first contacted you?”
“Yes.”
“And why did you ally with her? What did she offer you?”
He waved away the question. “She’s a lying whore who broke every promise she made us. The details are irrelevant.”
“Lor and his team followed Sevrin back to her lab when she left the Team South house this morning. By now everyone is either dead or in custody. They’ll have learned the location of the Team East house as well. It’s over, Nazerel. You realize that, don’t you?”
“That’s only true if every aspect of your plan went off without complication. Neither of us knows how much of that agenda was accomplished.” He sounded calm, almost indifferent, but his pulse leapt and his throat burned with anger and frustration. He’d finally decided to break all ties with Sevrin and move on. His men deserved a better life than they’d found on Earth. But his plans had yet to solidify. Was it possible that the entire situation had unraveled while the collar made him powerless to stop it?
“Is there cell reception up here? With one phone call I can find out what happened this morning.”
“No reception.” That was true, but he had a Rodyte comlink. It looked very much like a cell phone, but the device was far more sophisticated than human tec
hnology. He just wasn’t ready to admit the fact to her. “You had an eight-hour nap, but I’m exhausted. Do you need to pee before I secure you for the night?” Her cheeks darkened as she nodded. Why were females so squeamish about bodily functions? Everyone had to pee from time to time. It was an unavoidable fact of life. “Reconnect your cuffs. I’ll go get your boots.” He tugged on his boots and left the tent.
He could see her silhouette though the wall of the tent, so he paused and pulled his comlink out of his pocket. Thank the gods he hadn’t given this frequency to Flynn or the Mystic Militia would be able to track him. Sevrin could probably track the signal, but she had no idea that he had the device. Not willing to risk an off-world call, he input Darrian Eastman’s code. All the Team East alpha had to do was respond to the call and he’d disprove Morgan’s claim. The signal connected but no one responded. Shit. Nazerel reentered the code, but again no one activated the other end of the call.
So the Team East house had been raided or they’d abandoned it when they learned of the raid on Team South. That didn’t mean everyone was in custody. The Mystic Militia had yet to conduct a raid without losing at least one person. Shadow Assassins had protocols in place for when anyone became separated from their team, so he connected to the designated voice mail box. There were no messages. Unbelievable. There were other possible explanations, but this was discouraging to say the least.
He paused long enough to take care of his own bodily functions before he unlocked the SUV and grabbed her boots off the backseat. Morgan was wily. He didn’t dare take his attention off her for even a moment.
“Did you forget where you hid them?” She was standing near the door now and she’d refastened her wrist cuffs as instructed. So she could follow orders when it struck her fancy.
“Something like that,” he grumbled and dropped her boots in front of her.
“Your mood sure got dark all of a sudden. Are you sure there’s no cell service up here?”
He arched his brow at that. “Were you spying on me?”
“You were standing ten feet from the tent. It didn’t take much spying.”
“There really isn’t any cell coverage. The device I was using was Rodyte and it’s more like a two-way radio. It won’t do you any good.” That was bullshit, but he wasn’t ready to indulge her further.
“No one answered on the other end?”
“No.” She didn’t need to know more. “Come on.”
“Can I have my pants too? The underbrush will scratch up my legs.”
He was obviously being too easy on her. He shouldn’t allow her to argue at all. Rather than answer her question, he bent and threw her over his shoulder.
“Nazerel!” she half-shrieked so he smacked her upturned ass.
He ducked through the opening and carried her into the woods. She was right. The underbrush was thick and coarse. It would have been hell on her legs. But she hadn’t known that for sure. She was just being argumentative. He found a relatively clear spot and set her down. “Get on with it.” He even turned his back, though he could still see her in his peripheral vision.
“You expect me to squat down and pee while you’re standing right there?” She sounded horrified.
“Yes.” His tone brook no refusal.
He stared off into the darkness unable to make sense of the implications swarming his mind. He needed to get off this godforsaken planet, but he couldn’t leave until he knew the fate of his men. If they were all in custody as Morgan said, then it was only a matter of time before they were returned to the City of Tears. Their service to the Ontarian military had been mandatory and it had been sentenced instead of prison time, which meant his men were likely headed to prison.
Morgan touched his arm and he startled.
“Are you all right?” Her voice was soft and coaxing.
“No. Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
Rather than throw her over his shoulder again, he picked her up in his arms. His fingers splayed against the firm flesh of her leg and then registered the icy temperature. “Your legs are freezing.”
“Tends to happen when one goes traipsing through the woods half naked.”
Feeling guilty now, he hurried back to the tent and set her down beside the bed. “Get under the covers.”
“Yes, sir.” She mocked him with a salute.
“That’s yes, master.”
“In your dreams.” She’d whispered the phrase just loud enough for him to hear.
He picked up her boots, even though she hadn’t worn them. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
After locking her boots back in the SUV. He tried Darrian’s code again. No answer. He switched to cell phone emulation mode and called Sevrin. The call went straight to voice mail. Gods be damned! That told him nothing. She could be in serious trouble or she could just be ignoring him out of spite. Sevrin was often irrational.
He heaved a frustrated sigh then walked back to the tent. It wasn’t fair to take this out on Morgan, but his anger allowed him to refocus on why he’d brought her here in the first place. If he was the only one left, then seeing to the welfare of his men became his sole responsibility. It was more important than ever that he find a way to rid himself of the debilitating collar.
When Nazerel reentered the tent, he looked like a man on a mission. His lips were pressed into a grim line and his gaze was narrowed yet bright.
“You don’t look happy.” Rather than crawling into bed as she’d been told, Morgan sat near the bottom of the sleeping bag and folded the top half over her legs. It allowed her body to rebuild heat without looking as if she were blithely waiting to be seduced.
After zipping them in, he took down the lantern and set it on top of the cooler. Next he tugged off his boots and socks. She watched each movement with tense uncertainty. Was he just preparing for bed or had his mission changed in the past hour? Not really changed, more like regressed. She’d managed to avoid this confrontation by engaging his mind. Obviously, her stall tactics had stopped working.
He reached for his fly and Morgan panicked. She jumped up and quickly unfastened the chain connecting her cuffs. She grasped the loose end of the chain, creating a makeshift weapon. It was possible he was just getting ready to sleep, yet his dark mood made that seem improbable.
His lips curved into a humorless smile and challenge lifted his eyebrows as he lowered the zipper on his pants. She quickly averted her gaze, but he stepped back into her field of vision as he set his folded pants on top of one of the crates. He was wearing gray boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination. Still, she’d been somewhat desensitized to his esthetic appeal by staring at his chest for the past two hours.
He turned off the lantern, plunging them into darkness. She blinked, impatiently waiting for her eyes to adjust. Even with moonlight penetrating the walls of the tent, he was little more than a menacing silhouette.
For a long tense moment he stood there in silence while her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Then he lunged across the tent and grasped her wrist. She swung the chain at his face, but he easily deflected the blow with his forearm then caught that wrist as well. Damn he was fast. Fast and strong. She was in serious trouble.
Drawing her hand to his neck, he pressed her fingers against the cool metal collar. “Unlock it or I’m going to stop being nice.” His tone was flat and serious, convincing her he meant every word.
“I can’t. You know I can’t.” She brought up her knee. He twisted away. She stomped on his instep. He barely noticed. Tugging against his hands, she tried in vain to break his restraining hold on her arms. She kicked and kneed him, throwing her weight one way and then the other. When none of it did any good, she slammed her head into his chest then sharply raised it, hoping to catch his chin.
“Are you finished?” The bastard sounded amused and he wasn’t even out of breath.
With a growl of utter frustration, she vowed, “Never.”
He spun her arou
nd and yanked the T-shirt off over her head. Then he unfastened her bra with a deft flick of his fingers. She gasped, instinctively clutching the loosened fabric to her breasts. “Don’t do this. Please, Nazerel. You don’t have to do this.” She was beyond pride, beyond strategy, and more frightened than she’d ever been in her life. His kisses and gentle touches had already proven that he could make her feel, make her want things she dare not want with this man.
After snatching her bra out of her clutching fingers, he tossed it aside and then lifted her into his arms. He placed her in the middle of the sleeping bag, making it seem effortless despite her continued struggles. He straddled her hips as he pulled her arms over her head. She clawed at his hands and twisted wildly. He simply ignored her efforts and focused on his task. When he wrapped the chain around the tent pole this time, he secured it with a tiny padlock identical to the ones attached to the cuffs. Shit. Where had that come from? Her last hope had been to wait until he fell asleep and then free herself from the tent pole. She’d already tried to yank the pole from the ground. It felt like he’d driven it into solid rock.
His face was directly above her now and he looked seriously pissed. This was the Nazerel she’d expected to see ever since he tackled her to the grass beside the Team South house, ruthless and oblivious to everything except his goal. Instead he’d been rational and reasonable, even charming at times. Then he hadn’t been able to contact his people, which brought out this darker side. He realized his situation was desperate, and desperate people did horrible things.
“It doesn’t matter what you do to me,” she tried again. “I cannot unlock the collar.”
“So you say. But you’re right, it doesn’t matter. It’s time for my other strategy.”
Lust. He intended to work himself into a sexual frenzy and then channel the energy into the collar. And she was the fuel for his bonfire.
Pushing off the floor, he sat up while still straddling her hips. “You can stop this at any time. Remember that. You are in control.” His gaze lowered to her breasts and the blue rings in his eyes ignited.
Rebel Heat Page 6
