Hot Rebel

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Holy fuck.

  Nick dropped to the floor, knowing instinctively that she was going for her gun. He was armed, but that wasn’t going to help the situation when he was pretty sure she was just reacting to him surprising her.

  “Victoria, it’s me. It’s Nick Brandon.”

  “Nick?”

  His heart thumped as he lifted his head. She stood on the other side of the bed. He could see the gleam of the pistol as she lowered her hand to her side.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Promise not to shoot?”

  He heard the clatter of the weapon on the table and he got to his feet.

  She was standing there with her hands on either side of her head. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened… I was dreaming, and then you were there and I thought he’d found me…”

  His pulse was racing like a frigging Formula One car as he tucked his gun into his waistband. “It’s okay. I guess I should have woke you up another way.”

  She laughed softly, brokenly. “How could you predict I’d forget where I was or who I was with?”

  The emotion in her voice made him want to reach for her, hold her tight, but he didn’t move. “Couldn’t have been easy to wake up from a nightmare and see a dark shape standing over you.”

  “No, definitely not.” She chafed her arms as if she was cold. “What time is it?”

  He pulled his phone from his rear pocket. “Three o’clock.”

  “Is that all? It seems later.” She made a soft noise. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon.”

  “Night terrors will do that.”

  “I don’t usually dream like that. It was… very realistic.”

  “You were taken to a remote location and almost killed. It’s natural to feel some delayed stress.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I’d thought I was over it already.”

  He snorted. “Not likely. And that’s fucking normal, so don’t beat yourself up over it. You’ll probably dream about it some more before you’re done.”

  She studied him. “You seem to know a lot about it. What’s your story?”

  The curved scar on his torso seemed to throb for just a moment. It had happened so long ago now that he never really thought of it much—but he’d thought of it a lot at the time.

  “I was mugged when I was seventeen. Visiting Chicago on a school trip and stayed out late, in spite of being told not to by our chaperones. I was walking the streets past curfew with a couple of friends when some guys stepped out of the shadows and demanded our money. I resisted when I probably shouldn’t have, and I got knifed for the trouble.”

  “The scar on your side?”

  “Yep.” He wasn’t surprised she’d noticed it. “It wasn’t life threatening, but it sure hurt like a motherfucker at the time. Not to mention the trip to the hospital got us busted for sneaking out, and my parents were pissed as shit that I’d embarrassed them that way. The preacher’s kids were supposed to be models of good behavior and upright moral standing.”

  He could still remember the looks on his parents’ faces when he’d got home. His mother had worn that combination worried/disappointed look he knew so well. His father, however, was royally pissed. And he definitely believed in not sparing the rod. Hadn’t mattered that Nick was seventeen and too big to get beat. His dad had been so angry he’d hit him again and again across the butt and back with a belt while Nick stood there and took it, his insides churning with fury and hurt.

  That’s when he’d vowed to get the fuck out just as soon as he could. The minute he turned eighteen, he’d gone down to the recruiter’s office and signed up. He’d had to sign up for the Delayed Enlistment Program since he’d still been a senior in high school, but as soon as school ended, he was on his way.

  His parents had been furious about that too.

  “That must have made it even tougher for you.”

  “Didn’t make it easy.”

  Shelly was gone by then, and he’d been the only one left. He’d already been angry with his parents over their continued refusal to accept Shelly unless she changed to suit them, and the knifing hadn’t exactly made them confident in his ability to do the right thing. He could still remember how shocked he’d been that his father was more furious that Nick had disobeyed a rule than the fact he’d been hurt and could have died if the attacker had jabbed him a little differently.

  That’s when he’d realized that his parents considered appearances more important than anything else. Not only had they chosen to cut his sister from their lives, but he knew they’d also do it to him in a flash. It was a sobering realization as a seventeen-year-old that your parents cared more for their ideals than they did for you.

  “Did you have nightmares?”

  “For a while. Eventually they went away.”

  She seemed to hesitate. “About earlier. I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I threw myself at you. It’s embarrassing.”

  He didn’t quite know what to say. “You didn’t throw yourself at me, Victoria. And even if you did, I was a dumb ass not to take you up on it. Been kicking myself all night.”

  He could see her shaking her head in the darkness. “You’re too nice to me. I was all over you.”

  “I’m not at all fucking nice, sweetheart. In fact, if you’d like to kiss me again, I definitely won’t be nice. I’ll take everything you have and ask for more. Your choice, but believe me, I’m more than ready.”

  *

  Victoria couldn’t breathe for a second. He had no idea how much she wanted to do just that.

  She could still feel his tongue against hers, still feel the hard knot of desire low in her belly now that her terror from the dream had dissipated.

  But she was embarrassed by how she’d acted earlier—by her lack of control, by how inexperienced she was, by his rejection, even if it had been for noble reasons. She felt like he must have certainly known she had no idea what she was doing, and he’d been trying to let her down easily.

  But this statement, that he was ready if she wanted to try again, knocked her for an emotional loop. Worse, now that he’d tossed the ball back into her court, she had no idea how to hit it out again.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Just kiss me, Vic. The rest will happen.”

  She swallowed. Her heart was thrumming fast, and she felt a little dizzy with it. “No, I mean I don’t know what to do. I… I’ve never done anything like that before, and I just…”

  She felt like an idiot. Why was she admitting such a thing? Why was she even talking about this? She should tell him no thanks, she’d changed her mind, please go away.

  But some little part of her—the small, girlish part that wanted to be loved—refused to let her do it. Instead, it made her embarrass herself further by admitting she was a clueless virgin.

  She was glad it was dark and she couldn’t see his expression as well as she would during the day. He stood there, not speaking, and she imagined he was trying to think of how to extract himself from this situation.

  “I… Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His voice was tightly controlled, and her heart sank a little more. He must think her a freak.

  Goddammit, she was tired of this shit. Tired of pretending to be something she wasn’t, tired of hiding the truth because it made her feel stupid and unattractive. And abnormal. Never forget abnormal.

  “Yes, Nick, I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin. I’ve never had sex before. I know how it works, for fuck’s sake, but I’ve never done it. I don’t quite know why, except I just haven’t found anyone I wanted to do it with before. I’ve been too busy taking care of my sister—worrying about my sister—to spend a lot of time dating or screwing random men.”

  “Damn, Vic,” he said softly. “You sure know how to make a speech.”

  Humiliation was her old friend by now. “Screw you, Nick Brandon. Screw you and get the fuck out.”

  He moved toward her then. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, stoppin
g in front of her, taking her by the shoulders and then tilting her chin up and forcing her to look at him. “That wasn’t an insult. Honestly, I haven’t a fucking clue what to say to you right now, other than I think you’re probably the toughest, most single-minded person I’ve ever known. You had a goal, and you didn’t let a damn thing get in your way.”

  “I let Zaran bin Yusuf get in my way.”

  He tugged her against him, pressing her cheek to his chest. His fingers stroked her hair and little tingles of sensation began to drip through her system.

  “You were trying to make a better life for you and Emily. You did the best you could. The fact she fell for an asshole like bin Yusuf isn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe it is,” she said, her throat clogging with old regrets. “Maybe I should have stayed home and tried harder.”

  He pushed her away, holding her by the shoulders again. Then he bent until his face was level with hers. “You aren’t at fault for another person’s actions. Your sister made choices, and while those choices worry you and you’re here trying to find her again, frankly I’d be more than a little pissed off that she’s put you through hell like this. In fact, I am pissed off, and I don’t even know her. But I’ll do everything in my power to help you find her. And when you get her home again, I hope you realize you aren’t responsible for her entire fucking life. She’s an adult, Victoria. Like you, like me. She might have made a bad choice, but once you have her back again, you’d better realize she’s capable of making more of them. And they won’t be your fault either.”

  His words made her uncomfortable in a way, and yet she knew he was right. “I am pissed at her,” she said softly. “I’ve been pissed for a very long time—but I also think she wants to come home and that he’s keeping her locked up against her will. I can’t abandon her. No man or woman left behind. Gramps said we had to look out for each other because no one else would. He was right, and I can’t do anything less than what I’m doing right now.”

  “I know you can’t.”

  He ran his hands down her arms and let them drop away. She wanted to ask him to hold her again, but she was too shy to do it. Which was ridiculous considering she wasn’t precisely timid about a lot of things. But this—him—she was out of her element.

  It had come on fast. Too fast.

  This crazy pull between them was disconcerting and exciting all at once. She’d known it was there before, in sniper training, but she’d been unable to give in to it. Not to mention she’d thought he was unaffected and it was all her. Silly her, mooning over some guy because he was handsome and made her tingle.

  Now she wanted more—and she wanted nothing because she was afraid of how it would change her life if she got it. They were mostly strangers to each other, and just because he was basically a decent guy didn’t mean there was a future beyond however long they had to work together.

  Not that she expected there to be. It was certainly premature for that. But she liked him, and she wanted to know if she would still like him in a month. Two months. A year.

  “For the record,” he said, “I think you’re pretty amazing. Gorgeous, sexy, determined, talented. Amazing.”

  She could feel the heat creeping beneath her skin. It made her glow warmly when he said it, and yet it embarrassed her too. “If you’re trying to get in my pants, you’re doing it wrong.”

  He snorted. “So prickly. I like that about you.” He let out a long sigh. “I want in your pants, Victoria. Desperately. But in light of what you just told me, I can’t help but feel you deserve better than to lose your virginity while staking out a Russian consulate. You should be wined and dined and made love to on a bed with satin sheets. It ought to be a memorable experience.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Satin sheets are such a cliché. Besides, how many women lose their virginity staking out Russian consulates? I’d venture to say precisely none. Why can’t I be the first?”

  “Goddamn, you tempt me,” he said, his voice a low growl that made a shiver roll over her. “But I feel like I’d be taking advantage of the situation. Of you.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin, Nick. If I’ve never done it before now, do you really think I don’t know my own mind? That I’m weak willed enough for you to take advantage of just because we’re out here alone together and I find you sexy? Do you really think you’re just too irresistible to me and I don’t know what I’m doing or saying?”

  He reached out and caressed her cheek. “You’re incredible. Seems to me if you’ve waited this long, you might want it to be special. With a man who loves you. You…” He sucked in a breath. “You have to know that I don’t. That I’m a horny bastard who desperately craves you. It’ll be special for me because I’ll be your first, but not the way it’ll be special for you.”

  His words made her shiver deep inside, but they also made her angry too.

  “For fuck’s sake, Brandon, do you honestly think every girl’s first time is with a guy who loves her? That that makes it special? I’d think the most important quality is a guy who knows his way around the female anatomy. Can you make me come? Can you make me cry out and beg for more? That’s what I want, not some declaration of love and devotion.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Could he make her come? Holy hell, was this some kind of torturous payback for all the things he’d done wrong in his life?

  Victoria Royal was just about the sexiest woman he’d ever known. She was strong, determined, loyal, had a deadly accurate eye and nerves of steel—and she’d never had sex before.

  Twenty-five, with a body like that and a mouth made for kissing, and she’d never had sex.

  It was more than a little bit tempting to be her first. And yet it was a huge responsibility too. He knew he could make her come. Hell, he could make her first time good—but he couldn’t fight the idea that she should be with someone who cared.

  He knew he didn’t care.

  Well, fuck, maybe he cared a little bit—but that’s because she was sweet beneath the sass, innocent in this one thing, and he couldn’t help but care about that.

  And maybe he even cared about her as a person because he certainly couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her well-being lately. But that wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t the kind of all-encompassing caring he should have for a woman who wanted to give herself to him for her first time.

  He was a dog. He loved sex, like most men, and he loved the release it gave him for a little while. He could lose himself in her—but it wasn’t the same as when he’d thought she was experienced. Everything they did would be her first time, while for him it would be numberless.

  He didn’t have mindless sex, but he didn’t stick with any one woman for long either. He did quick relationships, if you could call them that, where he was faithful to one woman for a few weeks or so. Then he just got tired of dealing with the questions and the demands for more emotional commitment, and he moved on.

  He didn’t do long-term. He knew that long-term didn’t last. If your own parents couldn’t commit to you for a lifetime, why on earth would anyone else?

  “You didn’t answer the question, Nick. Can you make me come?”

  Her voice was soft and sultry, but there was an underlying current of uncertainty as well. It was the uncertainty that undid him. If he told her no, if he turned and walked away now, he’d leave her feeling as if she weren’t good enough for him. As if she weren’t sexy or desirable.

  How could he do that? This beautiful, innocent woman was asking him to be her first, and though it scared the shit out of him in some ways, it also thrilled him in a deep, primal way that shocked him.

  “Yeah, I can.”

  “I’m scared as hell, I should admit that to you… but I want to do it. I want you to be first.”

  He reached for her, pulled her against his chest, and tilted her head back with both his hands on her face. He was a fucking goner. He was like an addict b
eing offered a fix, and he couldn’t say no.

  He told himself it was just sex, but he knew there was something else driving him too. Something he didn’t know how to quantify.

  “If you change your mind at any point, tell me to stop. Don’t endure because you think you have to. Don’t let it go too far if it feels wrong.”

  “Okay.” Her voice was soft and breathy, so different from when she was giving him hell. It was such a turn-on.

  “And if you don’t like the way I’m touching you, for God’s sake tell me. I’m not a mind-reader, and everyone is different.”

  “All right.”

  He could feel her trembling, and a wave of answering tenderness washed over him. He didn’t think Victoria was scared of anything, yet she was clearly nervous about this.

  “Sweetheart, we don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

  “You’re going to give me a complex if you keep trying to back out.”

  “You’re shaking.”

  “Anticipation.”

  He laughed. “More like adrenaline.”

  “That too.” She ran her hands up the front of his chest and put them around his neck. “Just kiss me. Let’s see what happens from there.”

  He tossed up a silent prayer, asking for the patience he’d need to do this right—and then he lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his own.

  *

  There was something about kissing him once she’d decided to go all in that was different. Oh, it was every bit as exciting and arousing as it had been before. But knowing she’d given herself permission to let anything and everything happen, she felt a certain wild joy that she’d never experienced before.

  Flame roared through her veins, ignited in her belly, made her tremble even more than she already had been. Her pussy throbbed with need, the walls growing slick with moisture.

  She was the sort of person that when she made up her mind to do a thing, she wanted to do it immediately. She tugged his shirt from his pants and slid her hands beneath the fabric, her palms against his warm skin. She could feel his scar, that indentation that ran in an arc beneath his breastbone, and it made her heart squeeze to think of him on a Chicago street as a teen, getting knifed and then going home to censure from his parents rather than love and gratitude he was alive.