by Jodi Redford
Teague grunted. “There’s no way in hell I’m kissing Colin.”
She grinned. “What? Not even for me?”
“No. Besides, I’m the one who deserves the damn kiss, since I paid for the duds.”
Her heartbeat quickened when Teague’s gaze dipped to her mouth. The smoky current of awareness that’d been threading between them all morning went into super-crackle mode.
She swallowed, gathering her nerve. “Okay.” Standing on tiptoe, she crooked an arm around his neck and indulged in a brief, albeit exuberant kiss that clinked their teeth together. Embarrassed by her obvious lack of finesse, she pulled back an inch but got no farther than that as Teague’s palm curved around the base of her skull. The warmth of his hand seeped into her skin, and she shivered. Gazes locked, she stared into Teague’s whiskey-hued irises. Their breath mingled, the faint flavor of him still potent on her mouth. Unable to resist, she licked her lips. “You taste—”
“So help me, if you say nice, I will refuse to kiss you.”
“I was going to say yummy.”
“That I can live with.” He tugged her closer and slanted his mouth over hers. His kiss was far better than the one she’d given. Hot. Erotic. Delicious. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, nibbling and sucking softly. She moaned, and he used the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside her mouth, his coaxing glide encouraging hers into play. She needed no further invitation to submit to his wishes.
Her fingers slipped through the thick softness of his hair, absorbing the tantalizing heat radiating from the strong, tanned column of his neck. She breathed him in, the spicy essence of aroused, sexy male filling her lungs. She wanted to crawl inside him, feel that heady power course through her veins. Groaning, she crushed her breasts against his chest and reveled in the raspy exhale that escaped him.
His fingers closed around her shoulders. It took a moment to realize he was gently pushing her away. Bewildered, she blinked up into his hooded eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You need to get dressed so we can get going.”
She stared at him for a long moment, uncertainty making her knees wobble. A sinking vulnerability descended on her. He’d liked kissing her. A lot. The hard ridge of his erection digging into her stomach had more than verified the fact. So why did he look angry about giving in to what they’d both obviously wanted? “Teague…”
He gathered the clothes that’d spilled to the ground and handed them to her. “We’ll leave in twenty. Be ready.” And with those final words, he strode outside.
Chapter Five
Teague didn’t know what he looked forward to less—the agonizingly long wait at the Shadow-controlled border patrol, or the upcoming confrontation with Joe, Miles and Sabby.
Hell. That last option, hands down.
It’d been three months since he’d been out to see the guys. Or the Mole Ninjas, as the insane yokels insisted on referring to themselves. He had no idea how they came up with the name. Presumably it had something to do with them living in an underground bunker and their delusional aspirations to be ninjas. God, there was a terrifying thought.
If he’d had any other choice, it would have been at least another couple of months before he gave in to the inevitable urge that always dragged him out to the remote salt plains where the guys lived. The Mole Ninjas were living ghosts from a past he couldn’t escape. A constant reminder of Linc and the superhero Teague could never be.
He hadn’t sent word of his and Ruby’s visit, but knowing Colin, the guys were already aware of the special company headed their way. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Colin hadn’t sent them the pic of Ruby. Colin was a pro at putting on an act, but Teague knew the kid had taken one look at Ruby’s cat suit and figured things out. Colin was no dummy.
Hopefully the same couldn’t be said for the border warden stationed at their checkpoint today. Praying the fake IDs and disguises he’d rigged for himself and Ruby would cover their asses, Teague tore his gaze from the long line of vehicles snaking ahead of them and shifted his weight on the bike. He glanced in the side mirror at Ruby’s profile. The spare helmet hid the short black wig she’d donned. Most likely that part of the disguise wasn’t necessary, but it was better to be safe than sorry in case the warden asked her to remove the helmet. Teague held no delusions that his and Ruby’s pictures weren’t papering every security checkpoint from here to the ice-mountain range in Shadow Vail by now. With Ruby’s distinctive red hair, she was easily recognizable.
She’d suggested cutting it and doing a permanent dye job, but he’d strategically talked her out of it, saying it would take too much time. But the truth was he couldn’t stand the idea of even an inch of that glorious hair ending up in the bottom of a waste can. Not that he was about to come clean about his feelings on the matter. Too hard to explain his obsession with her tresses when he was busy trying to convince her—and himself—that the concept of the two of them together was a disaster, both personally and professionally.
Thankfully the rest of her disguise had been easy enough to move past. To complete their charade of being backpackers headed for a four-day hike in the desert, he’d arranged for Colin to provide Ruby with baggy camouflage cargo pants and a stretchy black tank top that accentuated her mouth-watering breasts a little too flamboyantly. On the bright side, hopefully that part of her anatomy would go a long way in distracting the border warden from looking at their faces too closely.
Now if only he could drag his focus from those luscious mounds. His picture-perfect memory chose that inconvenient moment to conjure the image of Ruby standing beneath a cascade of water, frothy bubbles dripping from her outthrust breasts and perky nipples. Of course his rapt fascination with her treasures hadn’t stopped there. Oh hell no. When she’d angled herself beneath the spray, he’d been awarded a brief and all-too-tantalizing peek of the neat triangle of ginger curls framing her pussy.
He hadn’t really questioned the possibility of her not being a natural redhead, but that glimpse had barred any deliberations that might have popped into his mind during the dead of night, when his lustful musings were fixated on things like whether the carpet matched the drapes.
Yeah, he’d be able to sleep so much better now.
Stifling a groan, he cranked the throttle and eased forward with the rest of the vehicles. Ruby tightened her hold on him, the slight tremble of her fingers the only indication of her nerves. He released one hand from the bar grips and reached down to give her knee a reassuring squeeze. The tension seemed to ebb from her as she snuggled closer to his back. Letting her rely on him even in this small way wasn’t a good idea. Not when he’d be dropping her off with the guys and saying goodbye to her forever. But he didn’t have the heart to let her stew in her worries without offering some token comfort.
Turning his head, he eyed the roadster wagon in the neighboring lane. The vehicle was one of those retro models. A throwback to the innocent period of Earth’s history, when malt shops and poodle skirts ruled. A time long before the alien Shadow Queen swooped in and stole Earth as her own. The vehicle seemed weirdly out of place amongst the dark oppression that’d become the permanent landscape, but in reality it was merely another illusion fabricated by the Shadow to perpetuate their sinister dog-and-pony show.
Teague tore his attention from the family of four inside the vehicle—all happily slurping away on their bottles of Shadow Soda like good little zombies. The heat of Ruby’s stare drilled into him, but he refused to meet her gaze in the mirror. Yeah, what the Shadow Net was doing sucked, but what did she expect them to do? Send a lightning blast through all these vehicles, exploding every last bottle of Shadow Soda within a two-mile radius?
Shit, that’s probably exactly what she wanted to do, the crazy idiot. Sweat crawling down his nape, he coasted closer to the head of the line. If there was a God, they’d make it past that checkpoint within the next few minutes before Ruby did something insane.
Five excruciating minutes later, he finally rolled to
a stop at the designated booth. While he waited for the border warden to make an appearance, he unlatched his saddlebag and dug around for the fake IDs. A scuffling step announced the arrival of the officer, and Teague quickly zipped up the compartment containing Ruby’s cat suit and Light Guardian bracelet. If it’d been up to him, he would have left both incriminating items back at his safe house, but Ruby had refused to part with Luna’s belongings. Hopefully his softhearted decision to go along with her wishes wouldn’t bite them in the ass.
“Passports?”
His arm outstretched, Teague lifted his head. A boulder dropped into his gut as he gazed into a pair of familiar eyes. Warden Dan. Teague had deliberately steered clear of the man’s assigned station. Dan had chosen a bad fucking day to hang out in a new lane. Usually Teague made a habit of chatting with the guy. It never hurt being on good terms with one of the wardens. Today was definitely the exception to that rule.
The senior warden started to reach for the passports, and Teague’s fingers reflexively clenched around the documents. The only reason Dan hadn’t yet recognized him was because of the bike, helmet, and grungy jeans and T-shirt Teague wore. But it’d only take one glimpse at Teague’s picture and the falsified name beneath for Dan to be on to them. Teague knew better than to foolishly pin his hopes on a few past pleasantries to convince Dan to let them through. Not when the Shadow Queen was responsible for Dan’s paycheck.
Ruby must have somehow detected his unease because her grip tightened around his waist. Shit. If this went down the way he feared it would, she might be getting a public debut of her superpowers after all.
A crackling noise came through the com link clipped to the collar of Dan’s uniform, followed by the nervous stuttering of one of his subordinates. “Sir, we have a code violation three-six-five-one in lane six.”
His expression apologetic, Dan keyed the transmitter to his com link. “Status?”
“Two contraband weapons and a poster of Luna Light Fire.”
Ruby bolted upright behind him. Slapping his palm warningly over her hip, Teague covertly slid his focus to the left. Three lanes down, he spotted another familiar face—this one adorned with piercings and a snarling smirk. Colin. Even as a trio of minions slammed the kid against the trunk of his rust-bucket Chevy Sidewinder, Colin managed to flip them the bird and send Teague a wink.
Grateful that the helmet’s visor disguised his grin, Teague returned his gaze to Dan and made a mental note to give Colin a pay increase. He didn’t worry that the kid wouldn’t be able to weasel a way out of his present predicament. When it came to extricating himself from sticky situations, Colin was a damn pro.
“Sorry, folks, but I’m going to have to hand you over to Warden Bill while I take care of this.” Dan sidled out of the way while his replacement stepped forward and reached for the ID Teague still held. The boulder of dread in Teague’s belly disintegrated a fraction as Dan rushed past the front of the idling bike. The biggest roadblock to their escape might be gone, but it didn’t mean they were home free.
“Would you mind lifting your visors?”
Forcing a steadiness to his fingers that his pounding pulse wasn’t happy to comply with, Teague depressed the visor release. The metallic whir behind him verified that Ruby had done the same. The thick ball of wary adrenaline quadrupling in size behind his breastbone, Teague met the warden’s assessing stare.
Slight frown lines stitched into his brow, Warden Bill lowered his scrutiny to the passport and inspected the tiny picture before returning his gaze to Teague again. A fresh crop of sweat dampened Teague’s forehead. Thank God he could blame it on the relentless heat rising from the baking asphalt. The warden shuffled Teague’s ID aside and concentrated on Ruby’s. He treated her to the same disconcerting surveillance. A lifetime later, the man finally ditched the stern expression and handed the IDs to Teague. The reinforced-steel gate blocking the exit creaked and groaned as it slowly ascended.
Warden Bill touched the bill of his cap. “Have a nice day.”
Offering the man a nod, Teague wasted little time stuffing the ID back in place and re-securing the saddlebag. A moment later, he roared out of the checkpoint. The heady relief that swamped him killed the lingering dregs of his anxiety, and his muscles relaxed.
The reprieve lasted roughly ten miles, until he remembered where they were headed. He wasn’t looking forward to the meeting to come. Or the wearisome spiel he knew the guys would have armed and ready. It would be akin to listening to a dozen Ruby Winston clones, each one convinced that they could rush in and save the day on a cape and a prayer.
Delusional whackos. Every last one.
Tension knotted in each vertebrae of his spine, Teague torqued the throttle and sped down the near-deserted freeway like the Shadow hounds of hell were snapping at his exhaust pipe. He racked an additional fifty miles before pulling off for some octane at one of the few power stations that provided fuel in addition to the standard electron chargers. Once he’d braked in front of an available pump, he and Ruby climbed from the bike. She removed her helmet and cautiously patted the wig to ensure it was still in place before stretching her arms over her head. He tracked the upward journey of her tank top’s hemline. Her cute bellybutton came into view, and he visualized tracing the outer rim with his tongue.
She dropped her arms, making her breasts bounce. His cock bobbed against his fly in tandem. “If you need to use the bathroom, I’d do it now. We still have at least sixty miles to go.” The gruffness of his voice scratched his esophagus like sandpaper.
Her brow wrinkling, Ruby eyed him silently. She opened her mouth but immediately snapped it shut. Without saying a word, she pivoted and strode toward the ramshackle convenience station. By the time she returned, he’d topped off the bike’s tank and deposited the correct amount of credits in the kiosk. He waited for Ruby to hop back on the seat, but she only offered it a vacant stare. He cleared his throat. “Ready?”
Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she shot him an uncertain look. “What if they don’t want me to stay with them?”
“Who?”
“Your associates. They don’t even know me. It’s asking an awful lot to put me up.”
“Trust me, they’ll love you.”
Obvious worry continued to ride her pretty features. “How can you be so certain?”
Because I’m two fucking heartbeats from falling head over ass for you myself. Deciding it was wise not to voice that damning admission, he opted for levity. “Because I’m a guy. We know everything.”
That managed to crack a smile from her. Even the shadowy doubt lurking in her eyes lifted. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Making me feel better. And by being you.”
“That’s a good thing?”
Her expression turning serious, she nodded. “You’ve got a ton of good in you, Teague. I just want you to realize that.”
He slapped the gas cap closed with a growl. “Don’t start up on the superhero bullshit again. I already told you I’m not interested in going down that path.”
“That isn’t what I was getting at.”
“Really? Could have fooled me, princess.”
Scarlet crept across her cheekbones. “Must you always devolve into being a dick?”
Because she was right, he felt the necessity to needle her. “Name-calling, babe? That’s not very nice. What will the other do-gooder superheroes think?”
“Go to hell, Teague. Furthermore, you are a dick. No, scratch that. You’re the king of dicks. You could rule your own dickdom.”
He arched his brows. “Do I get to wear a dick crown?”
Her lips twitched. “Probably. And don’t make me laugh. I’m mad at you.” With those words of warning, she tugged on her helmet and straddled the bike.
Shaking his head, he lowered his own visor. Hell. He had a bad feeling the upcoming showdown was going to be a huge trial for his patience. Maybe he should have given himself over to the Shadow while he still
had the chance.
Chapter Six
Ruby squeezed Teague tight and sent up a silent prayer that her teeth weren’t going to jostle out of her mouth as he veered the bike down a bumpy, dusty path barely visible between parallel rows of scraggly bushes that exuded a pungent salty scent. It was a damn good thing she’d taken that bathroom break, otherwise the last thirty seconds might have been an embarrassing accident waiting to happen.
Ten long, agonizing minutes later, Teague braked to a stop in front of a ramshackle shed and released the bike’s kickstand.
Hallelujah. Wiggling off the seat, she hopped to the ground and steadied her trembling legs. Her skin felt like it was coated in several layers of dust and grime. Not exactly the best way to make a grand first impression. Grimacing, she swiped her sweaty palms on the waistband of her cargo pants. Curiosity getting the better of her, she took a closer look at the shack in front of her. And frowned. “Uh, it’s abandoned.”
“That’s exactly how it’s supposed to look.”
Shading her eyes from the sun, she glanced at Teague. “Why?”
“Keeps the rats out.”
She jumped at the unexpected voice behind her. Swiveling, she met the intrigued gaze of the man standing before her. Obvious appreciation danced in his hazel eyes as he swept her with an appraising look. “You look exactly like her.”
She frowned. “Who?”
“Luna. Other than the hair, the resemblance is remarkable.”
She slid a hesitant glance toward Teague and took in the dark glower he had aimed at their host. Uncertain what to make of Teague’s mood, she returned her attention to the stranger. He was handsome. Maybe not quite as breath-stealingly gorgeous as Teague, but definitely not hard on the eyes. She blushed. “This is just a wig.” She carefully slipped the hairpiece off and loosened the pins securing her real strands. The freed locks cascaded over her shoulders.
