Hard Core (Onyx Group)

by Jennifer Lowery

  Her lips parted next to his, not touching, as they rocked together. It was sensual, erotic. Breathing hard already, she rubbed against him, loving this mating game. She didn’t have to wonder if he wanted her, it was evident in his eyes and body. That empowered her.

  “Cristian,” she murmured, their breath mingling. “Take me.”

  His mouth claimed hers and she was lost. When the kiss turned primal, Alana tore at the button on his pants, wanting him inside her. Somehow she got his pants down and hers off far enough she was sliding over him, taking him inside her with a satisfied gasp. His hands gripped her waist, digging into her flesh as they set a frantic rhythm together. She met him thrust for thrust, urging him closer, faster, until they climaxed together.

  When she could breathe again, Alana lifted her head and smiled at Cristian. “That was good,” she said, still slightly breathless. “I feel better.”

  Cristian planted a hard, fast kiss on her lips. “Glad to be of service.”

  She shifted to get more comfortable and felt him growing hard inside her. Her smile turned wicked. “I just may need your services again. Meet me upstairs?”

  Eyes smoldering, he nodded.

  “Give me five minutes.” Alana slid off him. “Don’t be late.”

  * * * *

  Fool. Making love to Alana on Ryden’s porch? Why the hell did he make love to her at all? The first night shouldn’t have happened. Alana had been vulnerable. This time, he had no excuse. He was addicted to her. Powerless.

  And she damn well knew it.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her today, but he’d been so damn proud of her for overcoming her demons he couldn’t help it. He’d wanted her then. Would have taken her against the wall if there hadn’t been people around.

  Slade rubbed a hand over his face and pulled his pants up. She was waiting for him. A beautiful, sexy woman who was wild and uninhibited and damn fun in bed. Sex had always been sex for him. A means to an end. A way to rid his body of excess adrenaline after a job. He’d never formed relationships after Mariette. Never found a woman he wanted to have one with. Mariette was the closest he’d come to real love, but what he felt for Alana was different. More powerful. More intense.

  He wasn’t adept at playing this game. It made him edgy. He had to stay objective to protect her. This was only a small reprieve from Gavin Ross. Not the time to take his eye off the ball.

  As he rose from his chair and walked to Alana’s room, he knew he would do exactly that.

  He only hoped he didn’t live to regret it.

  * * * *

  “Alana, wake up. It’s time to go.”

  Alana woke slowly, opening her eyes to warm sun shining through her bedroom window. Memories of making love to Cristian invaded and she smiled, stretching pleasantly sore muscles.

  He stood next to the bed, fully dressed. His gaze dropped to where the sheet had ridden down, revealing her breasts. Heat flared and her body responded, readying.

  “Do we have to go now?” she asked, rubbing her foot up his thigh.

  He gripped her foot, caressed it for a moment, and then let it drop. “Yes,” he said roughly.

  Disappointed, she climbed out of bed and reached for the clothes he’d let her borrow. She heard him groan softly and smiled to herself. Not so immune.

  “Sam left some clothes for you on the dresser,” he said, sounding like he was chewing on glass. Definitely not immune. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  The door opened and closed with an abrupt snick and she shook her head, still smiling. She wasn’t the only one who felt the chemistry between them. Like it or not, Cristian Slade wanted her. And she planned on giving him what he wanted, every chance she got. Not just for him, but because she wanted him.

  Crossing to the dresser, she picked up the jeans and light blue button-down shirt. They looked close enough to her size. Better than wearing Cristian’s clothes, which were two sizes too big.

  She changed quickly, brushed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail, then went to find Cristian and Sam sitting in a small breakfast nook, drinking coffee. Mercer stood in front of the windows, looking out. She hesitated briefly, wondering if they had heard her and Cristian last night. The master bedroom was at the opposite end of the house, but she’d discovered she was vocal in bed with Cristian. That had never happened before. The man knew how to make her scream.

  Uncertain of what they knew, she walked over to the coffee pot and poured a cup. “How is Caleb?”

  “Complaining about having to stay in the hospital a couple more days. He asked me to thank you.”

  Tasting the strong coffee, she nodded to Sam. “I don’t like the idea of you going to Chicago and leaving your brother here alone to heal.”

  Sam waved her off. “Caleb can take care of himself.”

  She’d seen the panic and concern on Sam’s face when he thought Caleb had stopped breathing. She knew he cared deeply for his brother, even if his words were callous. “I’m sure he can, but I don’t want to be the reason you have to leave him.”

  Cristian stared at her, his expression masked.

  She didn’t look at him for fear she’d give away what they’d shared the night before.

  “You need protection. That’s already been decided. I’m going with you.”

  “I have Cristian and Mark.”

  Sam glanced at Cristian, and Mercer turned around to stare at her. She got the impression they knew something she didn’t. “What?” she asked.

  “We need to go.” Cristian rose to his feet. “If you need to stay, Ryden, I can have Gallagher send someone else to Chicago.”

  Alana pursed her lips. They weren’t going to tell her anything. That close-mouthed thing again. She really despised their silence. Why did Cristian think she needed three bodyguards?

  “I’m going.” Sam tossed back the rest of his coffee.

  “Wait.” Alana looked at Cristian. “Sam can’t leave. Caleb is going to need time to heal. Can we stay here another couple days? Just until the chest tube is removed.”

  Cristian looked at her, clearly not happy with her suggestion.

  “I have three bodyguards,” she reminded him.

  Cristian looked at Sam. “Your call.”

  “Caleb won’t be able to finish the branding,” Sam said. “A couple more hands wouldn’t hurt.”

  “You said so yourself, we were safe here for now,” Alana piped in. If she got Cristian to agree, she could oversee Caleb’s recovery. She didn’t want him to go back to work too soon or have a setback without her here. Until Caleb was on the mend, she wasn’t leaving.

  “Three days,” Cristian said. “No more.”

  Not enough, but she didn’t argue for more. It would be a waste of time. Cristian’s mind was set, he wouldn’t change it. Surprising, that he gave her three days.

  “When is Caleb being released from the hospital?” she asked Sam.

  “Today. He refuses to stay another.”

  “What about the chest tube?”

  “Doctor said his lung was inflated so they can remove it.”

  Alana nodded. “The pneumothorax was small. I’ll make sure he doesn’t shower for forty-eight hours and takes it easy.”

  “Good luck with that,” Sam grimaced. “He won’t stay down easily.”

  Alana cast a quick glance at Cristian. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

  “Work your magic, Doc,” Sam said. “I’m on my way to the hospital.”

  “Can I tag along?” she asked. “I need to pick up a few things in town.”

  “You’re confined to this ranch.”

  She turned to face Cristian. “A prisoner?”

  “We’ve already had this conversation.”

  Aware that Mark and Sam had skulked from the room, she faced Cristian head on. “Gavin isn’t here, Cristian. He wouldn’t have found us so soon. He knows nothing of your team.”

  “It isn’t impossible to figure out what group I work for.”

  “You have safety measur
es, don’t you?”

  “They aren’t fool-proof.”

  Breathing a frustrated sigh, she sipped her coffee, then dumped it into the sink. Either she’d been too long without it or Sam made extremely strong coffee. Whichever, it made her stomach churn.

  She rubbed her forehead and leaned back against the counter. “I know you’re right. I just don’t like it. I’m not obligated to Gavin any longer and yet he still holds me captive,” she said in an afterthought. Her deal was no longer effective, yet she felt more a prisoner now than she’d been on the island.

  “What do you mean?” Cristian asked.

  She straightened from the counter. “Nothing. Am I allowed to go outside?”

  “As long as someone knows where you are. You didn’t answer me.”

  “And I’m not going to. We both have secrets. I don’t think either one of us wants to share. I’m going to wait in my room for Sam to bring Caleb home.”

  He didn’t stop her when she hurried out of the room, evading his questions. Would they would ever reveal to each other the things they both kept hidden?

  Chapter 17

  Alana quietly closed the door to the basement where Caleb slept soundly. He’d come home ready to work and it had taken three of them to keep him in bed so he could heal properly. He was as mulish as the rest of them. She didn’t ask if he was a mercenary also. Didn’t want to know. She had enough of them in her life, and didn’t need another.

  At first, she’d protested him staying in the basement. Until she went down there to find a bachelor pad, almost an apartment. Sam said Caleb preferred privacy for his extra-curricular activities. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize he meant women.

  Deciding she wasn’t in the mood to be alone, she put on her boots and went out the sliding doors onto the deck. Cristian hadn’t slept with her last night and it bothered her more than she cared to admit. The subject hadn’t come up and she hadn’t pushed. Did she really want to know why he’d distanced himself? Assuming it was because Mercer had slept on the couch and Cristian didn’t want him to know was the least painful excuse.

  The sun beat down on her as she stepped onto the lawn. She longed to take off her boots and walk barefoot through it, but the sound of men’s shouts drew her to the barns.

  As she approached, she saw a handful of men near a corral filled with restless cattle. She smelled singed hair and frowned as she drew closer to the melee. Sam had said they were branding today. Caleb had about come out of his skin when he heard it. It had taken a threat from Cristian to get him settle down.

  Branding sounded barbaric to her, but she knew it was necessary with a ranch this big. Cattle broke through fences and thieves would steal them if unmarked.

  Her steps slowed when she saw Cristian, shirtless, muscles gleaming with sweat, as he wrestled a roped calf to the ground. Dust kicked up around their feet as another man helped him. Sam had a branding iron; three other men were there on horseback, roping and herding cattle.

  Another side to Cristian she’d never seen. She wouldn’t say he was a natural, but he certainly looked good in this element. Rugged, primitive, his tanned skin slicked in the hot sun. This was man in his most primal form, and it called to her on a level she’d never experienced.

  She knew every inch of Cristian’s body, but had never seen him like this. Not getting down and dirty. He was a mercenary. Independent. A man alone. He didn’t seem to want or need anyone. Yet, here he was. Lending a hand, sweating with Sam and the rest of the men who worked on the ranch. Even while injured. Which made him either a good guy or an incredibly stubborn one. She wanted to believe he was a nice guy, but the description just didn’t fit. He was gruff and aloof, a straight shooter. Respectable qualities, if annoying at times.

  Hanging back, she watched without being seen. It didn’t take long to realize she didn’t want a life of ranching.

  Sadness bore down on her, making her miss her father and the life they’d had. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Shouldn’t be doing this.

  Feeling suddenly very alone and empty, Alana looked around at the endless miles of rolling green landscape. She didn’t belong here. Or anywhere. Where did she belong? Where was she supposed to be? Where did she go from here?

  When this ended and she was free to live her life again, what would she do? Go back to Boston and pick up her old life? Try and become the surgeon she was once destined to be?

  Could she go back?

  Experience told her that opportunities missed rarely came back around for a second chance. Once gone, always gone. Besides, she wasn’t that woman anymore. She didn’t want the things she’d once wanted. So many things seemed inconsequential now.

  That familiar weight of uncertainty and loneliness settled on her shoulders. Unable to bear it, she turned and walked back to the house.

  * * * *

  Slade watched Alana walk slowly up the hill toward the house, her shoulders slumped. He didn’t like seeing her defeated. She was the strongest woman he knew. He found himself caring more and more about her welfare and that bothered him as much as her misery.

  He couldn’t care, dammit. The last time ended in tragedy--the death of the only woman he’d ever tried to get close to. He’d tried that life once and gained nothing but grief and loss. He was not an ordinary man meant to live an ordinary life. When he tried, his life was torn away. Fate putting him in his place. Best he remember that, because having history repeat itself with Alana was not an option. No matter how different his feelings were for her. No matter how much she made him long to have that life again. To be a man someone could be proud of.

  As long as Alana had someone to take care of, she’d be fine. Alana was a survivor, a fighter. She would land on her feet.

  He never should have given in to the three days. He’d agreed to stay because he saw her desperate need to nurse Caleb back to health. It was familiar to her. It distracted her. Grounded her. He could understand the desire to feel normal in the face of tragedy. And she didn’t even know the half of it. He had yet to tell her how her father died. Or of his promise.

  “Hey, Slade, you with us?” Sam asked, drawing his attention. “Don’t need another one of you laid up injured.”

  Slade tore his eyes off Alana as she disappeared over the hill, and back to the task at hand. She was a constant distraction for him. He would do well to keep her at arm’s length or else risk more than their lives. He wasn’t willing to lose either. No matter how much he wanted to chase after her and take away her pain.

  * * * *

  Assured that Caleb was on the mend, Alana went up to her bedroom to get ready for bed. Cristian and the men had been working hard all day, only coming up for a quick lunch of sandwiches and chips. Other than that, she’d been alone to take care of her patient.

  The phone rang as she crossed through the kitchen. Sam was still down working, so she picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Ah, Alana, darling. How did I get so lucky as to have you answer the phone?”

  Recognizing Gavin Ross’s voice, she went rigid, her hand gripping the phone with white knuckles. “How did you get this number?”

  “It took some doing. Slade must not be right there, or he would have taken the phone by now. How do you like the States? It’s been a long time for you.”

  “You don’t know where I am.” Please let it be true.

  “But I do. Your bodyguard has hidden you well. Not well enough I couldn’t track you down, though. Are you ready to see me? Because I am certainly ready to see you.”

  Fear snaked down her spine. He didn’t only have the number to the ranch, he had the location and Slade’s identity. Which meant he probably knew of the organization he worked for. “What do you want with me, Gavin?”

  He tsked softly. “I thought we already established that. Nothing has changed. Our arrangement still stands. Very clever of Slade to separate you and my donor. I’m afraid we’re going to have to find a new one.”

  “What did you do to
him?” she asked, fearing the answer. Not liking the way he said we.

  “Nothing yet. My boys should be arriving in Louisiana very soon. I had no idea Slade was part of such a group. My mistake to assume he was a freelance operator.”

  Dave. He found Dave. “You leave him alone,” she cried, desperate. “Do you hear me, Gavin? Leave him alone!” She didn’t realize she was screaming until it echoed through the kitchen. But she couldn’t stop. Her fear for Dave overrode diplomacy.

  The door to the basement flung open at the same time someone pulled the phone from her hand.

  “What’s wrong?” Caleb asked, breathless from his climb and leaning heavily on the doorjamb.

  Cristian put the phone to his ear. “You’ll never have her, Ross.” He hung up.

  “Why did you do that?” she cried. “I could have stopped him.”

  Cristian stared her down, angry. “You can’t stop him. What did he say?”

  Shaking, terrified for Dave, she said, “He knows where Dave is. He’s got men on the way right now. We have to warn them.”

  Mercer had already pulled out his cellphone. “I’m on it.”

  Sam was at his brother’s side, urging him to sit down. “That means he knows where we are too.”

  “We have to go.” Alana grabbed Cristian’s arm. “All of us. We have to go now.”

  Cristian covered her hand with his. “Sam, you good here?”

  Sam nodded. “Got it covered. Get her out of here.”

  Alana’s gaze bounced from Cristian to Sam and back again. She shook her head. “No.” Then, desperately, to Cristian. “We can’t leave without them. Gavin knows where we are. He’ll hurt them.”

  “We can handle ourselves, darlin’,” Caleb drawled. “You just get yourself somewhere safe.”

  Safe? Was there such a place? Would she ever be free again?

  “Cristian?” She looked to him for answers. She didn’t want to leave Sam and his brother here. Not when Caleb was still healing. How could he defend himself? She would never forgive herself if something happened to him.

  “He’s right. We have to go.”