by Angela White
Angela twitched lightly when Marc began unbraiding her filthy hair and smiled tolerantly at herself. Maybe a bit of her jumpiness was simply a part of who she was now.
Marc washed the blood and filth from her hair, keeping her shoulders under the water to prevent her from getting a chill. He used his long fingers to scrub and rub until she was putty in his hands.
Angela groaned. “Nice, Brady.”
Marc smirked eagerly as he rinsed her. You ain’t felt nothing yet, baby-cakes.
Angela wasn’t picking up thoughts, only the thick, sensual vibes of his naked body standing behind her. It was all so different from anything she’d envisioned.
Marc’s hands slid around her as he finished, turning her so that they were both under the water. Angela waited for more, and when it didn’t come, allowed herself to relax. Her arms came up to hold him, and she rested her cheek against his warm chest.
Marc stood with her patiently, letting the steam do some of the work for him.
Angela snuggled closer, skin perfectly warmed between him and the water. She was pressed along his hip and the feel of his hardness was sensual. Without society’s required faces and covers, Angela didn’t think she’d ever been so drowsy or comfortable.
And horny, she realized. Her nipples were hard rocks against him, flesh between her legs becoming slick. Did he know?
Marc nodded against the top of her head, pressed a soft kiss to her damp curls. “I smell it.”
Angela flushed, tensing self-consciously.
“I’m supposed to. It’s how I know your body’s ready for mine.”
Marc took her hand and placed it on that part of him. He immediately sent his hand to do the same for her.
Angela jumped at the quick movement, and Marc gripped her thigh firmly as he slid his thumb over her soft folds in wide circles. With each pass, he narrowed the area until he was gliding through her slickness and brushing the sides of her clit.
Angela closed her eyes, unable to fight the sensations. He wanted to please her. She would let him.
Her hand hadn’t moved on him, and Marc bucked eagerly in her grip. “Help me here, baby. Let’s make some magic.”
Angela moaned willingly, stroking softly, the way he’d responded to during the moments that had led to this one. The feel of his fingers stuttering on her flesh was incredible, and she tightened her grip as lust flared hotter.
Marc shifted them and nudged her back against the wall with her towel draped over it. His thumb flipped the tip of her clit as he stepped between her legs and Angela arched.
“Ooohh...”
Marc kept flipping, gently, hand growing sticky, mind sliding into a sensual daze where only they existed. A quick movement smeared that moisture onto her hand and Marc leaned his head back as she used it to stroke him with. More!
Lust flowed unblocked and pleasure bonded the couple. Searing waves of light soaked them each time the other groaned or tightened their grip in ecstasy. For this moment, Safe Haven and all its worries were out there. In here, was only heat and flames.
Marc moved closer, feeling her body tense as she neared the edge. Keeping his fingers in the same rhythm, he positioned himself to be ready for it, and sent his free hand to her rocky nipple.
Angela arched. “Oh, Brady!”
Marc’s control broke, the demon’s hot lust coming from nowhere to snatch rational thought.
Angela felt the mood change, but his fingers didn’t stop, and she stroked faster, straining. “Marc...I...”
Marc felt the spasm as her orgasm exploded, felt her legs start to close. He thrust a hand between them, dislodging hers from his stiff flesh. He grabbed her thigh, holding it in place as his other hand continued to extend her waves of pleasure.
Now! the demon demanded. If you don’t, I will!
Marc eased forward, pushing through her cum to bump against that pulsing heat. He cupped her hips, tilting for the angle as she gasped in surprise. Her small entrance clenched against him...and then opened in welcome.
Marc shuddered. No stopping now. He shoved forward.
Angela tried to pull away as he pushed inside, and Marc’s hard hands slid around her wet body, holding her in place. He wanted to stop, to comfort, but the feel of her!
He pulled out and thrust in again, grunting as he slid deeper. So tight!
Angela’s hands on his shoulders were grips that raked those jagged nails across his skin with each movement. He trembled as he pushed in further. Angie!
Angela caught the ecstasy and the intense desire, and faced her fear the same way she had every other challenge since the war. She spread her legs and tried to relax.
Heat like Marc had never felt rushed through him, and he lowered his mouth to hers, gasping.
Angela grinned as his pleasure began lighting up her nerve endings again. Coming to the final understanding that some discomfort was involved in sex, but the good outweighed the bad, Angela wasn’t about to deny him the same pleasure he’d given her.
“That’s was amazing,” she said softly, still pulsing. “Your turn.”
Marc growled, shoving forward to sink himself all way in. When she shifted uncomfortably, he used his hands to hold her thighs open so that he could get that deep again.
Not yet! the demon protested feverishly. Not yet!
Marc couldn’t wait, it had been too long, and he jerked out.
Angela watched him, nipples tightening, and heat flaring. She’d expected to sleep for a while, but...Marc shuddered, head against her unscarred shoulder as he gasped for air and coated her thighs.
Again! the demon demanded. It wasn’t long enough!
Almost panting from the lack of oxygen, Marc leaned back to look at Angela and found the red eyes of the witch waiting impatiently.
He laughed gruffly. “Whatever...you want.”
She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, loving his rough breathing and twitches. “Just you.”
Angela ran a hand along his hip and got a jump from softening flesh. “Two minutes still apply here?”
Marc covered her mouth with his and slid back between her legs. She was perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Close
1
Duty pulled Marc from Angela’s hot arms just after a pale dawn that still promised rain.
No one came to get him up. He’d crashed in the tent with her, but the alarm in his mind brought him to alertness, saying the herd was stirring.
Marc eased off the air mattress and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders as she snuggled into the warm spot he’d left. He stole a minute, watching her sleep, then pulled on his jacket and boots, and quietly zipped up the tent behind him. He hoped everyone would give her a few more hours of sleep, but knew it was unlikely when he spotted Kyle and Daryl nearby.
They didn’t speak to him, and he went to the mess for coffee, understanding those two were her protection now that he wouldn’t be with her.
Marc spun to verify it and found both guards standing outside the flap, their backs to it and hands on holsters.
He turned back around, not slowing as he went by the noisy medical tent. He gathered himself as best he could, forcing his brain to act like nothing was wrong. It was a chore to conduct normal camp business, but there were lists, schedules, instructions, and conversations, and Marc’s head started thumping long before it was finished.
It was almost an hour before he made it back to the QZ. He went to Kenn first, avoiding Adrian’s bedside. His deathbed, Marc’s mind whispered.
Marc knew that Adrian wasn’t better as soon as John met him at the flap. After quick eye contact with the men, a nod to Anne, and a very fast glance at the curtains shielding Adrian, they stepped outside.
“The infection set in and his fever started rising. Around dawn, I put up a partition because he was ranting and tossing,” John explained. “I also sedated him.”
“Good,” Marc praised. “Adrian wouldn’t want everyone to see him that way.”
“No
,” John agreed sadly. “I’m hoping the antibiotics will smother the infection, but if not, there’s little else I can do for him.”
Marc’s heart was heavy as he nodded and then headed toward Angela’s center tent. What would they do without Adrian?
Marc realized he’d finally caught what was going around. Adrian was reason they’d all come together, and nothing would be the same if he were taken.
The part of his heart that was hoping for the man to die, he ignored.
2
“He’s waking up.”
“Copy,” Marc answered. He was nearby.
After three full days of drinking at the table from dawn to pass out, Mitch was looking and smelling rough. Every time he’d tried to get up, he had been told to keep drinking, that it was his party.
Marc slid onto the damp bench as their radioman opened bloodshot eyes.
“Morning,” Marc called cheerfully.
Mitch flinched from the loud word. “Whass?”
Marc motioned Li Sing forward. “How about something to drink? That always helps, right?”
Mitch stared in baleful confusion. He barely remembered passing out here, but Marc’s friendliness was bright in his mind.
Marc tilted the cool beer up and let half of it roll down, controlling his gut.
Mitch again chose the whiskey instead of beer, and the two men spent a quiet moment of silence–one drinking, one thinking.
Around them, the camp was already going about morning rituals, while in the QZ, there was almost no movement.
Marc waited for Mitch to become alert and then glassy, for the bloom of roses to come into his cheeks. When he saw those signs, Marc switched from friend to teacher.
“Adrian wants you gone. On your own.”
Marc didn’t react to the immediate panic and denials. He told only the truth.
“Kevin has your job now, Mitch. You have no value to the boss anymore.”
The radioman’s head dropped, telling Marc he’d already figured that out for himself. Good. That made things easier.
“Matt will stay here.”
Mitch began to cry. “Thank you for giving him another chance!”
Marc blinked. There was a real person inside there. Another insight Marc hadn’t agreed with, but Adrian was able to see inside his people and find what would reach them.
That’s why he’s the leader, instinct stated firmly. It’s also why he’s damned. You can’t recognize so deep a secret unless you’ve had the same issues. Adrian had been through this before, all of it.
Marc shook off the eerie thought that followed, We all have, and got back to helping Mitch.
“He thinks you’ll die out there alone. That’s why no order has come down on you yet. Is it true, Hopkins?”
The whiskey opened Mitch’s mouth. “I survived before. I will now, too.”
“That’s what I told him,” Marc stated.
Mitch stared in sudden suspicion. “You don’t like me.”
“Like? No. Believe in? That’s different.” Marc leaned forward. “I have a fondness for Matt. I’m going to help Cyn and Angie straighten him out. I can do the same for you.”
Marc sat back. “Or you’re leaving. Today.”
Mitch wanted to take the offer, but was certain it would be hard. The man inside was shouting, but the alcohol was burning, calling.
“Take your time,” Marc encouraged. He swallowed another long drink of his sweaty beer. “Mmm. I have one or two on average a week, but I always want more.”
Mitch stared, trying to process what that meant.
Marc sighed regretfully, aware that he had attention now. He dumped the remaining beer onto the ground near the table. “But I’m a man and I make the choices.”
Mitch got the point, and it wasn’t enough.
Marc tossed out one of his own secrets with a sense of relief. “I used to be a drinker, too–a heavy one. It got me in trouble.”
Mitch gaped in surprised. “You’re a alcoholic!”
Marc gave him an embarrassed shrug. “Like most of us, I hate that word, Mitch.”
It made Mitch believe. No one else but a fellow addict would know how dirty that word made them feel. “Me, too.”
Marc stood up, stomach rolling. “Finish that bottle, enjoy it. When it’s gone, either go get a shower and a lot of coffee, or say goodbye to your son and get out of this camp. It’s your choice, but make it today, or I’ll do it for you.”
Marc quickly got out of sight and hearing distance, and allowed himself a minute to vomit. His CO had given him a much harsher lesson than the one Mitch was receiving, making him drink from dawn to dawn for three days straight. As a result, he loathed any type of alcohol in the mornings. He hadn’t been actually and honestly drunk since becoming a Marine.
3
Angela ducked through the flap, nodding to Kyle, who looked as bleary as she felt.
“Got a minute?” Marc called from nearby.
“Not really.” Angela kept going. “Walk with me.”
They had five men in the medical tent with gunshot wounds, one with a high fever of unknown origin, and three with minor bone breaks. It had been a rough mission. Twenty-four confident, well-armed men had come into this city with her. The same number had come out, but none of them was the same.
Marc fell in step. “What’s the hurry?”
“Adrian’s awake and calling.”
“Good.” Marc forced himself to sound as if he liked being in charge of Adrian’s herd. “I need some things from you.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t know what to tell people about Conner, for starters.”
Angela went to Kevin, who was on duty over the first truck. “I need a 24-hour guard put on Matt and Cynthia in here with me. You’ll need to cover the shifts for each person you move around.”
Kevin’s gaze went straight to the new patch of gray showing from the side of her ponytail and Angela winced. It was noticeable. Damn.
She gave Kevin a single head shake, and the Eagle understood that she didn’t want her man to know the side effects of using so much magic.
Wondering if the sharp guy at her side had missed it, Kevin took out the notebook Adrian had given him not long before they’d gone into that cursed city. He wrote as he spoke. “I’ll have it taken care of.”
She sent him a silent request. How long? I need it before…I need it soon.
The Eagle immediately vowed to work hard on the mental lessons he was going to be a part of when he reached the next level. “Fifteen minutes.”
Angela felt his silent despair and refused to offer false comfort. “Good.”
She went toward the shower camper next.
“Angie.”
Hearing Marc’s growing concern, she grunted, “Give me some time to get him settled first. For now, he’s the only survivor from Little Rock that we were able to bring out with us.”
Angela got a chill at seeing Marc write down her words. Why?
Because it means he knows that you’re my replacement.
Angela scowled at Adrian’s weak words in her mind. He sounded bad.
“Are you okay?” Marc was frowning deeply.
“No, but at least I’m not dying,” she answered unhappily. “What else do you need from me?”
“Mostly, to know how he’s going to be able to be in front of the camp, so I can get it ready.”
“With our help and good, old fashioned drugs,” Angela tried to joke. “I’ve got that much covered.”
“Why am I still in charge of the camp and not Kenn? Isn’t he the XO? Your new XO?”
Marc hadn’t meant to ask, but didn’t call it back.
“Because Kenn’s still in the QZ,” Angela hedged, not wanting to do this now. She couldn’t spare the time to convince Marc. She was still working on herself.
“Not true,” Marc protested quietly as they neared Doug, the guard on the shower. “He could have been cleared and out of here by now. Adrian didn’t want that. Why?”
Stalling, Angela looked at Doug and the arm she’d put in a cast and sling last night. “Are you sure you should be working already?”
“No.” Doug’s demeanor was one of grief. “Just couldn’t stay in there anymore.”
Angela understood completely. “I need some things, and I need some men to assist me for the next few days. Men I can trust and who can trust me in return. Is that possible?”
“Yes.” Doug’s tone was satisfied. “All of us.”
Doug’s gaze flicked to Marc briefly, and Angela gave her approval silently. With care.
The big man understood. “Adrian told us to follow you, not Kenn, if anything ever happened to him. He said for us to make Kenn fall in line behind you, where he belongs.”
Angela had suspected what Adrian was doing, but never that he’d taken it this far. “I didn’t know.”
“He didn’t see the need to upset everyone unless it was needed, but he was adamant that you would protect our lives better because–”
“Because of my gifts,” she tried to finish, a bit bitterly.
Doug frowned. “Because you value life the way he does. He even said…” Doug stopped, glance flicking to Marc again. He gave her the rest of it silently, knowing the wolfman wasn’t ready to hear it. He said in another life, you would have been given this duty first, not him, and that he would have been honored to follow you.
Marc studied them with a feeling of loneliness that he hated. Here it was, that only for the boss’s ears shit. The real boss, his mind whispered.
Marc walked away from them, drawing Angela’s attention. “Hey? Don’t you still need an answer on Kenn?”
Marc stopped. “I have it now, don’t I? I’m tending the herd until you’re caught up enough to handle both sides of the tape. Kenn’s not even in the picture anymore and no one knows it, not even him.”
Marc scowled deeper. “That’s why he set me up in the cage! Adrian needed them all to see that I’m hard enough for this place.”
“Yes.” Angela stiffened her shoulders, doing what she had to. “Say it, Marc.”
“I’m your XO.”
“Yes.”
Marc marched toward the big camp, slightly shocked at receiving the position without even expecting it. He was also furious at Adrian for giving him this gift when he held such a secret hatred for their blond leader. “Call me if you need anything, princess.”
