Kane’s thumbs dug into her lower back, forced her spine into a sharp C. She yelped when he wrapped a hand in her hair, made a fist while his other slipped down low, found her hard little pearl, which he rubbed. To keep from having her face mashed into the wall, she bent her arms, used her elbows as anchors, curled her butt, spread her legs. Everything burned. Everything felt consumed. Yet there was more. Take it. Take it all.
Fever-like heat spread. Pulsing inferno. In her ears. In her heart. Like thunder. Like a raging sea. Implacable. Unyielding. Like Kane.
On a long, ragged cry, she released, melted around his cock.
The storm passed. Kane slowed, reached around her waist to hold her close. He panted hard against her back. Without a word, he pulled out, placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder before retreating from her, taking his heat with him as he did. She heard him pulling his pants up.
Despite the juices coating her, Clara knew he hadn’t come and wondered why. The honey dribbling down her thighs was all hers. The wall provided a bit of cool relief when she leaned against it. Her labored breathing drowned everything else.
A faint click then a cool breeze instantly forced her into a fighting crouch. Adrenaline still coursed through her shivering body. She swallowed hard.
“Here,” he murmured. “I’ll make sure you get a good shot.”
“Shot at what?”
A hard bundle was pushed into her chest. Her gear, her guns.
“At going back home.”
Why was her first reaction to ask questions? For fuck’s sake, Steele, just take the offer. Doubt froze her. “What? You’re going to shoot me in the back while I ‘escape’?”
“I could and have done that. But not to you.”
“Why?”
“Just put your stuff back on and go.” For the first time since she’d heard him speak, a point of temperament flared. So he wasn’t a killing machine after all but a man with feelings.
“It’s a trap.”
“No,” he snarled, grabbing her by an arm and pushing her forward. She stumbled a few steps, clutching her treasured gear. “Hurry before he gets here. If he spots you, there won’t be a thing I can do to help.”
She wrestled her stuff back on, clipped the harness into place then pulled her gun from its holster at her thigh. Easy access to her gun. Practiced for years. She was fast. Could she…?
“Why?” she asked. As if she needed to know.
Cool air brushed against her face. She felt his hand on her wrist, pulling her along, guiding her until a faint rectangle of bluish light from ahead made her quicken her pace. By her side, Kane walked silently. She didn’t hear a single step land.
When they reached the doorway, she turned to look at him but couldn’t see his face, only that he wore dark clothes and was even taller than she anticipated. Six and a half feet, maybe more. And slimmer too. Built like a runner.
“There,” he whispered, pointing some ways down an abandoned alley. “Four blocks, past the arch. There’s a checkpoint. If you subvoice from there, your men should be able to come get you quickly and safely.”
Clara took a step. “Tell me. Why?”
“Don’t you get it?”
She shook her head.
“I was sent to break you, Clara. I failed. My ‘kind’ never fails. I’ll have to deal with Hammond now, and whoever else knows about the contract. It’ll be a mess.”
Why did that trigger so many red flags in her? What did she care if he’d be hunted down? A turncoat Silencer couldn’t be allowed to live. The brotherhood would go after him. His head would be worth a fortune.
Clara scratched her throat where the subvoicer was strapped. “I’m…er, what happened?”
Kane’s chuckle raised the fine hairs on her nape. “I was supposed to break you. But instead, you broke me.”
She chewed on that for a second or two. Had she? How? She hadn’t even tried. Did that mean…?
Just throw yourself in, woman.
“Will I meet you again?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t even know what you look like. How will I know it’s you?”
“You’ll know my voice when you hear it. Just like I’d know yours among a thousand. You’ll recognize my scent, your instincts will warn you because we’re alike. Hunters.”
Kane drew near, cupped her nape with a long hand. Moonlight coming in slanted through decrepit buildings illuminated part of his face. Not sufficient for proper ID but enough to grace his aquiline nose and luscious mouth. Was that blue eyes she saw? Couldn’t be sure.
“What if I come after you instead, huh?” She felt a whole lot braver with her gear.
Clara framed his well-defined chin in both her hands. His kiss tasted of man, mystery and that intoxicating mix of spice and ginger she’d smelled on his breath.
He broke the kiss first, left her dangling. “I’ll be waiting.”
Before she could say a word, he pushed her away, melted back into the shadows.
Chapter Two
It took her three and a half months but she did it. She found Kane in one of the many slums in what used to be Zagreb, in the Balkans, but was now a wasteland thanks to years of war and turmoil. Three months of wondering, of torturing her brain for every detail, each memory. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hands. She’d fallen for him. Hard. She’d realized the extent of his gift as news started to come in after her unit’s failed extraction mission. The bad guys had been trussed up—those left alive. Among those was Hammond himself. A gift to her perhaps? Kane must have known how badly the government wanted the man. But that he’d let her escape in the first place was the real gift. He easily could’ve changed his mind, let the thug catch up to her while he escaped unnoticed. Instead, he’d kept his word, he’d stayed behind so she had a chance to reach her side. A Silencer doing something for someone. For free. The brotherhood must want him dead something fierce.
And there he stood now, with his back to her, the longish dark hair fretting over the collar of his long, black leather coat. There must have been some Asian blood in his ancestry at one time. He had gorgeous, almond-shaped eyes and an aquiline nose that gave him a dramatic air. He’d been right, she recognized him right away. Despite the crowded alley—more like a twenty-second-century bazaar—Clara could spot him easily enough. Not many stood that tall anyway. When he turned, she pretended to check a row of bead necklaces. His eyes scanned the crowd but didn’t settle on anything or anyone. That’d been close. When he started walking again, cutting through the crowd like a shark fin, Clara followed. In civilian clothes, she didn’t stand out at all. Average-looking woman in a sea of average-looking people. Just going on about their business. Chasing their future. As she did.
Clara walked around a stall of scrap metals, avoided eye-contact with the pushy vendor and was reaching Kane’s last known location when she realized she’d lost him. Damn. Her heart beat madly. She looked around. He couldn’t be very far. She should be able to spot his head over the rest. Nothing. He was gone.
“Shit.”
Had she been anywhere else she would’ve run. As it was, she squeezed between shoulders and carts, amidst thick clusters of people, turning on herself, not finding him. On the corner of a narrow alley, she spotted a garbage dumpster, climbed on it for a vantage point.
“Jesus.” There he was. Down the street, almost to the corner. He was fast.
Thinking to circumvent the crowd, Clara ran into the alley, from one to the other, managed to run parallel to Kane until she stood on the same corner. Pulling at the tight collar of her shirt, she was about to curse her bad luck—again—when something yanked on the back of her belt. She was reeled backward into the shadows as if by a giant winch. Concrete against her shoulder blades made her humph. A streetlight, faraway and sputtering, hit him at an angle. Bright blue eyes. Longish black hair.
So she’d found him. Or he’d found her.
The faint smell of aftershave tickled her nostrils. Without meaning to, she t
ook a long breath. For the sheer pleasure of taking him in. At least this way.
A mocking curl to his lips made her want to plaster herself to him and let him do whatever he wanted. She’d burned for him for weeks, months. Had fallen asleep with her fingers in herself, thinking it was him, hoping it’d someday be him.
“You haven’t changed,” he murmured, gave her an intense once-over.
“Neither have you.”
“Come.”
“Where are we going?”
He took her hand in his. So hot. “You think I’ve waited all this time to share you with them?” With his chin, he pointed at the crowded street.
“You’ve waited…?” As she had.
Silent, confused, hopeful, she let him guide her through the maze of alleys and tunnels, decrepit habitats and beneath the base of giant spaceports looming overhead. Up several staircases—the view of Zagreb here was amazing, old-world grace mixed with hard, modern misery—Kane stopped in front of a rust-pitted and dented metal door. He pressed his hand against the access panel, waited two seconds. Her heart beat madly when he pushed the door, slipped into the gloomy entrance and closed the door behind her. Trapped. A willing quarry.
He let her hand go, stood with his back to her. She couldn’t see well inside. Didn’t want to. Nothing mattered but him. The two of them together. She’d rehearsed the moment in her head yet couldn’t find a thing to say. Shaking from head to boots, she leaned back against the door, closed her eyes.
Kane caught her by surprise when he pressed himself against her, caught her hands and planted them high above her head. As he’d done the day she’d abandoned herself to him. “Do you know how many hours of sleep you owe me?” he growled. He raked his bottom teeth up her throat, nipped her jaw.
Clara couldn’t speak. Angling her head away, she hoped he’d get the message, the silent supplication. He did. That wicked tongue of his curled under her jaw, grazed up to her earlobe. He lipped the shell of her ear, murmured things she didn’t understand.
“I couldn’t shake the taste of you, the sound of your pleasure, how you felt.”
Her labored breathing stirred strands of his hair, which tickled her forehead. Buckles and straps covered his chest. Keeping her hands in one of his, he began to undo his long, black leather coat, let it fall to the floor, slid it aside with a foot. No shirt. Just that smooth, corded chest she remembered so vividly. His scent, a hint of sweat, made her salivate.
Urgency took her. They couldn’t waste a single precious minute. What if the brotherhood found him as she had? What if he was taken from her? She’d worked too hard, sacrificed too much.
Clara forced her hands out of his and dropped to her knees. Frantically, fingers shaking, she undid his pants. Black leather. They creaked when she opened them wide on his lower belly, yanked them down on his lean and muscled thighs. God, he was glorious. A network of sinewy muscles. Black boxer briefs that looked painted-on struggled to contain his cock. She freed it by pulling down with both hands. She heard Kane’s sharp intake of air. Into her mouth she took him. So smooth. Salty and sweet. Like honey and saltwater. Her saliva and his essence created a silky sheen that helped the thick cock slide in and out, in and out.
He pulled out of her. Her snarl of protest turned into a long whimper when he plastered her facing the wall, forced her feet aside with little nudges against the inside of her soles.
Kane stretched her arms up, planted her palms against the door. “Stay there,” he murmured in her ear. She would.
With sharp tugs and demanding hands, he removed her clothes. Fingers curled in, he raked his hand up the back of her thigh, over her cheek, trailing tingly fire in his wake. Clara swallowed hard.
“Spread your legs.”
She did.
Kane licked her shoulder, bit it. “Wider.”
Again, she did as he instructed. Giving herself over to him. Letting him control, call the shots. So unlike her. The orderly life that was slowly choking her because she allowed it to, because she’d always been too afraid to consider that maybe, just maybe, she liked having a man do this to her. Take what he wanted. Give peace and pleasure in return.
Hot and wet fingers landed on her cleft, stroked back and forth. She let her head loll back. Tantalizing pressure accompanied his fist around her hair. She felt so vulnerable yet powerful. She could do this to him, make him lose his cool. A Silencer. A man who killed for a living. The best in the business. She’d learned quite a lot in her months of searching.
“You’ve been thinking about me?” he breathed in her ear.
She nodded. Difficult given the way he pulled her head back with a fist in her hair.
“Tell me. I want to hear it. I need to hear it. You’ve been thinking about me?”
“I have. I’ve been thinking about you.”
Kane slipped a finger inside. She gasped loudly, curled her butt back up high. “Thinking about you,” she panted. “I couldn’t forget… I kept wanting.”
“Wanting?” he asked. One finger became two. With a snarl, he thrust in to the last knuckles. A sharp yelp left her. “Wanting what? This?”
“You. I’ve wanted you. I couldn’t think, couldn’t function.”
He accentuated his taking. It wouldn’t be long now. Fire tingled in her distended opening. Just as she was about to hit the point of no return, Kane squeezed between her legs, pulled back on a hip while he slipped his fingers out. His heat left. She wanted to cry.
“Kane! Please!”
She felt thumbs digging deep in her cheeks. Parting her. Readying her. She stretched her arms high enough to hurt her articulations. The sweet tingle and pressure. Incredibly hot and smooth, his cock pressed against her sex. But he didn’t push in. Damn him!
“We can’t go back from what we’ve had, Clara. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I don’t want to.”
Kane’s thumbs dug deeper. The wait was killing her. The flame was about to go out. She needed him now. Right now.
“What do you want?” he asked. A point of worry poked in his tone.
“You. I want you—want you…just you, nothing else. No one else.”
Kane took her. Hard. Fast. Without pity. Without fear of hurting her because he knew. He knew she could take him on, head-to-head, thrust for thrust. Because he knew she wanted it this way, up against his door. Not quite in, but not out either. He’d let her in his life and she’d let him in hers. Solace in each other.
The door rattled with Kane’s potent shoves. Her heels left the floor. Her breasts were crushed against the cool panel, her arms burned from keeping them up. But she changed nothing. He took her again and again. Until she thought she’d explode in a million shards of light, a thousand different slivers of herself strewn in space to twirl into blackness for all eternity. On a long moan, she came.
From rhythmic, Kane’s hip work turned animalistic and irregular. Panting her name, he pushed up high enough to take her off the floor. Thighs and belly slick with sweat, he drove up against her back and butt. Wet skin clacking. Kane’s voice. Liquid fire in jets inside her. Tiny suns burst behind her eyelids.
He slowed, quieted, gently took her arms down and massaged the aching wrists.
With his long arms around her, he pulled out, nestled his cock, slick with pleasure, between their sweaty bodies. A long sigh pressed his chest against her back. “I was serious, Clara.” He swallowed, took a deep breath. “When I said we couldn’t turn back…” Cleared his throat. “From what we’ve known. I can’t.”
She agreed with a nod. Kissed his forearm resting across her chest. “I don’t want to turn back. I’m where I want to be. With you.”
Kane turned her around, cupped her face in his long hands. Warmth made his blue eyes gleam like sapphires. Black hair fell in a jagged fringe around his face. “I’m not the perfect man, Clara. I’m not even a good man. But with you, I’ll be better.”
“Because you think I’m perfect, huh?” She grinned when he kissed the bri
dge of her nose.
“You are. To me.”
“I can work with that.” She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. Perfect fit. Nice and warm. “What about our work? Mine is to catch those like you.”
“I’m not a Silencer anymore.”
She pulled away to look up into his face. He wasn’t lying. “What? I thought you couldn’t…couldn’t quit the brotherhood. I thought you had to die to get out.”
Kane’s eyes hardened. “I couldn’t touch you with these hands. Not when I killed for a living. And you’re right. You have to die. And I did. Outside of them, no one knows me. I don’t officially exist.”
He’d “died”? Faked his own death? To be with her? The things left unsaid warmed her heart. No man she’d ever known would’ve given up everything just to be with her.
“A new beginning, huh?” she ventured, searching his face. The words felt strange, like a brand-new thing. Full of potential and possibilities. Full of hope.
He nodded, kissed her knuckles. “A new beginning. With you.”
About the Author
I am a mother, spouse, older sister, writer, ex-soldier, high school drop-out, dog owner (or dog owned), half couch potato/half intermittent jogger, wannabe renovator and avid reader who watches too much television, sinks too much money in clothes, likes animals more than humans, recycles, wore braces, never downloads copyrighted stuff, was a nerd without the grades, has a belly laugh that turns heads in theaters, can’t stand bullying, is mother hawk more than mother hen, votes even if candidates aren’t that great and thinks formal education is highly overrated (probably because she has none).
Nathalie welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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