Winter Igniting

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “That you’re in a precarious position and need to think clearly,” he ground out.

  Thinking clearly had gone out the window the second he touched her. “All right. I get it.” She slid her hands down to get under his shirt. It was a travesty that he even wore one. “Danger…bad. Damon’s orders…good.” Now she sounded snappy and flippant. Yay, her.

  “I thought you just wanted to be friends.” His tone dropped to guttural.

  Yep, his abs were amazing. Ridges and hard lines and raw strength. “I don’t like you very much right now. Doubt we’re friends.” If she tried to take off his shirt, would he help?

  His hold tightened, and he twisted his fingers in her hair until she had no choice but to lift her head and meet his gaze. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

  Tingles exploded along her scalp. The shiver that took her had nothing to do with fear. Man, he was hot. “I’m tired of talking.” She shoved his shirt up to see those glorious muscles. Humming, she planted her hands on his tight abdomen. Her skin looked so pale compared to his. There was such a contrast between not only the color but also the feeling of their skin. Hers was soft in comparison.

  There was nothing soft about Damon Winter.

  “You’re sending very mixed messages,” he murmured.

  “Don’t care.” She really didn’t. Not right now. Tomorrow, she’d worry about it. Right now, she was turned on and not hating life. And she was tired of talking about ops, missions, and the Pure. It felt good to feel. Sometimes, things were that simple. “So. I was thinking fast and hard.” She met his gaze evenly. “You?”

  The lust raging through Damon’s body exploded, going wide and hot. The woman was going to kill him. He was trying to give her a gentle lesson, and she’d turned the whole thing around on him.

  The feeling of her soft hands against his skin was driving him mad, and he was quickly losing the fight to go the friend route. “Hard and fast?” he repeated, his blood heating.

  She nodded and pulled up his shirt. “Yeah.”

  He had to duck or get strangled. She yanked off the material and tossed it onto the floor. Her smile was cat-like as she started exploring his chest. “If you’re fucking with me, I really am going to spank you.” His voice came out hoarse.

  “I’d rather you just fuck me.” She reached for his belt.

  His dick shoved hard against his zipper. “Wait a minute.” He jerked her head back hard enough that her eyes widened and her hands stilled. “You’re not playing this game. Have sex, regret it, say it’s over. I’m not doing that cycle. We’re either friends, lovers, or co-workers on an op. That’s it.”

  Her blue eyes softened. “You’re right.”

  Damn it. He hated being right. He could’ve just taken what she offered and dealt with the fallout later. But, no. He had to get things straight. What the hell was wrong with him? “I know,” he sighed.

  Her teeth played with her bottom lip. “When I first heard you were sick yesterday, I thought you’d been infected by Scorpius.”

  He blinked. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “I was sad.” Her voice cracked. “That you were here and gone. It hit me then that this is all we have. Right now, and right here.” Her honesty was flaying him open. “I don’t want to play games or get stars in my eyes or anything. But I choose all three options.”

  The blood rushed rapidly between his ears. “Three options?”

  “Friends, lovers, and co-workers.” She started releasing his belt. “I’m not asking for true love or any promises of tomorrow—because tomorrow is an illusion these days. Let’s find pleasure where we can.”

  He swallowed, looking for the trap. Her guileless gaze met his. No trap. There wasn’t one with this woman. “Are you sure?” He had to ask.

  She nodded. “I am. But while you’re sleeping with me, you’re not sleeping with anybody else.”

  No shit. “Agreed.” There wasn’t another woman he wanted like this one. Not even close. He leaned in and took her lips. Those full, generous, smartass lips. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, the taste of her driving him wild.

  Lust and need and something else, something deeper he wouldn’t explore, filled him. His cock stretched even more against his jeans, wanting inside her.

  Now.

  She moaned under his mouth and scraped her nails along his chest.

  The small bite snapped the chains of his control.

  He kissed her harder, the way he wanted to fuck her. Completely and until neither of them could breathe.

  They’d just crossed a line, and he knew it. A point of no return. They’d talked about it and made the decision clearly and concisely.

  He moved closer to her, using his free hand to pull her forward against him. Her dress moved up her thighs, and he pushed his aching cock against the apex of her legs. Even through his jeans and her panties, he could feel her heat.

  Her thighs trembled on either side of his hips.

  A knock on the door had him releasing her instantly and jumping around, shielding her. His heart pounded, and his lungs seized.

  “Damon?” Atticus yelled. “You’re needed at a Vanguard-Merc meeting right now.”

  God. His dick was going to explode. Damon shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Is it crucial?” he growled. The soft sound of April’s panting breath behind him was like a beacon in a storm.

  “Yes. Right now. Greyson has called everyone in.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Damon closed his eyes and tried to regain control. Any control. “Merc headquarters or Vanguard headquarters?” His voice sounded like he’d been eating glass and shrapnel all night.

  “Neither. The training building. All soldiers are supposed to report in.” Atticus’s voice grew fainter. “Five minutes.” Then he was gone.

  Damon turned slowly.

  April remained on the counter, her dress pushed up, desire in her eyes.

  He groaned.

  Her smile was way too sassy. “Told you not to start a fight between the soldiers.”

  He exhaled to calm his breathing, meeting her gaze directly. “We’re not done with this. I’ll be back right after the meeting.” Yeah, that sounded more like a threat than a promise.

  So be it.

  23

  My temper is usually completely controlled. Not so much lately. I have to get a grip on this.

  —Damon Winter, Journal

  If anybody even looked at him the wrong way, Damon was going rip his or her head off. He needed to punch something and now. Leaving April in her house was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  The night had cooled to nearly bearable, and stripes of pink and gold covered the still-light sky. The pavement was hot under his feet, and he kept his head down as he moved briskly down the street to the training building.

  Anybody in his way got quickly out of his way—Merc and Vanguard alike.

  He reached the center of the Vanguard territory where an old school house stood. It was now a medical facility for anybody in the inner area. A crumbling building to the west was now a training area because it had been the gym for the school. He stormed inside, and the smell of moldy socks assailed him. Some things never changed.

  A raised dais, wooden and worn, stood at the very end of the space. Probably where the school had held assemblies and plays.

  Jax and Greyson stood there with two covered chalkboards. Raze took point next to Jax. Upon seeing him across the wide expanse, Grey motioned him forward.

  Not bothering to cover his pissed-off expression, Damon made his way through the crowd of soldiers, appreciating the fact that most people moved right out of his way. Several of the soldiers were bleeding or rubbing what appeared to be bruises already forming.

  Even so, Jax and Grey had stopped the fight rather quickly.

  Damon jumped up on the dais and moved to flank Greyson.

  Grey eyed him. “What happened to you?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “You look…pissed.” Greyson checked him out.


  Damon’s lips tightened. “I was interrupted.”

  “Oh.” Grey coughed it out. “Sorry about that.”

  So was Damon. He partially turned to study the crowd and look for threats in case anybody was stupid enough to have Greyson in their sights. He recognized about forty Mercenary soldiers and nearly two hundred for Vanguard. The rest of the soldiers were probably either on patrol, scouting for supplies, or covering the Bunker in Century City.

  Jax lifted a hand, and everyone quieted, looking on expectantly. His sharp gaze swept the crowd. “The fight that just happened is over. It won’t happen again. Anybody caught fighting with each other because of Vanguard or Mercenary alliances will be fed to Marvin for dinner.”

  A rumbling started in the crowd.

  Greyson stepped forward. “Fucking listen to him. The lion is hungry, and I kinda want to feed him.”

  The soldiers silenced.

  Damon fought a grin, and his body finally gave up the lust. For now. All right. He could concentrate.

  Jax continued. “Greyson and I have explored several ideas, and we’ve decided to completely merge the two groups. If you stay—and you certainly don’t have to—you’re now a member of the Vanguard Mercenaries.”

  Huh. Not a bad name. Damon nodded. Good move. Keeping the two forces separate had done nothing but cause fights. Well, with his help. He should probably feel guilty about that, but meh. Why?

  Jax looked around. “Several of us have either Vanguard tattoos or Merc tattoos. Smiley? Where are you?”

  A guy in the far right raised his hand. His arm was covered with a tattoo sleeve of a vivid blue scene.

  “That’s Smiley from Vegas Tattoos. Some of you might remember his show that was on television. He’s coming up with a design that will encompass Vanguard Mercenaries that can be added to the existing tats.” Jax raised his hand when a couple of people started to protest. “We don’t give a shit if you want to keep what you have. Feel free. Or don’t have a tat. Or get the combo. This is a personal choice. We just wanted you to know the option is out there.”

  Damon craned his neck to see Smiley. His brother had loved that show.

  Greyson looked like a badass with twin guns strapped to his thighs. “We’re relocating living quarters this week. Several of my team will move into the headquarter building, and we’ll have soldiers living in the two rows of houses in the next block and then the apartments at the far end of the territory to cover the entire area. We’ll give you your new digs later.”

  Damon planned to move in with April, but he wouldn’t mind having an apartment in the headquarters near Greyson.

  Greyson whipped off one of the sheets. “Here’s the leadership structure as it is. Jax Mercury is in charge of the territory.” He pointed to a box with his name in it. “I’m in charge of the military and all campaigns.” Then he pointed at Damon’s name by his. “Damon Winter is in charge of planning and executing all military campaigns outside of these fences, and Raze Shadow is in charge of anything having to do with the war with the president.”

  Damon studied the board. All right. It basically just formalized what was happening behind headquarters doors anyway.

  Jax continued. “Samantha Steel, one of my lieutenants, is in charge of all training for soldiers and civilians. She’s also our lead computer expert, so she’s at the Bunker right now hacking into whatever she can find.”

  Grey tapped the chalkboard, and white dust flew. “Tace Justice is with her, and he’s in charge of all medical issues, as well as personnel problems. Doctors and shrinks report to him.”

  As an organizational scheme, it didn’t suck. But seeing a diagram and living it were two different things.

  “Any questions?” Greyson asked, his gray-green eyes sharp.

  Nobody said a word.

  “Good.” Jax whipped off the second sheet and rolled the old chalkboard closer to the edge. “We have three primary missions right now. One, we have to figure out where the president is, what he’s planning, and how strong his military is. Raze will form a team to do that.”

  Damon rolled his shoulders back. Fighting with the president still didn’t sit well with him. Maybe if they took the guy out, the next one who stepped up would be decent.

  “As part of that objective, we need to find out how strong the Twenty gang is, and we need to attack their holdings,” Greyson said. “They’re the president’s front line, at least with us, and we need to strike back. Now.”

  Damon made a mental note to meet with the scouts. They had to start looking for trouble for a chance to take down Twenty.

  Jax nodded. “Second, we need to take the Reno Bunker and then find more Bunkers from there. Damon will have a plan in place soon.”

  So far, Damon was involved in both missions. He cut Grey a look.

  Grey smiled. “The third mission is to deal with the integration of the entire territory, and that includes the Pure church.” He shook his head as the group started to grumble again. “They’re right to protect uninfected people, especially kids. But we need better communication and access.”

  Jax breathed out. “Any questions?”

  The myriad of soldiers looked a little put out, but nobody raised a complaint.

  “Good. Dismissed.” Jax turned to Damon. “Looks like you’re going to be busy.”

  No shit.

  April woke up to find strong hands on her hips. She jerked, and Damon’s scent surrounded her. She lay on her stomach, and she stretched her arms and legs, trying to awaken. “What are you doing?” she mumbled sleepily.

  “Finishing what we started.” He flipped her onto her back, partially straddling her.

  She woke right up. Her pulse kicked into a gallop, and her body warmed instantly. “Wh-what time is it?”

  “About two in the morning. Maybe later.” He palmed her breasts through her thin T-shirt.

  She arched against him. “How was the meeting?” Why was she asking stupid questions? She should be taking off his clothes. Wait a minute. His chest was bare, as were his feet. He only wore his jeans. How did that make sense? “Why did you only get partially undressed?”

  He pulled on her nipples.

  Sparks flashed through her, and she moaned. “Damon?”

  He paused. “Because I wanted to double-check that you meant what you said earlier.”

  The sweetness of that thought, even though he was still caressing her breasts and making it way too hard to think, settled in her heart. “I meant what I said. I want this.” More than anything in the world right now. Her body softened for him, more than ready.

  “I believe you said hard and fast.” He ripped her shirt over her head in one smooth motion.

  Her breath caught. “I did say that.” She unbuttoned his jeans and released the zipper. His cock almost jumped out at her. Man, he was big. She caressed his long length. It was amazing that this fit inside her.

  He swung his leg to the side and stood, shoving his jeans down. Then he grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Two seconds later, her shorts and panties flew over his head.

  She laughed, the sound strained with need.

  He started to lower his head.

  “No.” She grabbed his ear. “Up here. I’m ready. Was having a dream about you, actually.” He’d been taking her over a desk—an old schoolgirl fantasy she’d always had.

  “But I want to taste. Make sure you’re prepared.” He didn’t move.

  She wasn’t ready for that. Way too intimate. “No. Now.” She jerked him up her.

  “Hmm.” He pushed her up the bed and followed, his mouth right above hers. “Somebody feeling shy?”

  Not so much shy as a little freaked out. And turned on. “Hard and fast doesn’t include foreplay.”

  He chuckled and settled between her legs, pressing against her. “Everything includes foreplay, sweetheart.” Then he kissed her.

  His mouth was firm, and his tongue seeking. Damon Winter definitely knew how to kiss. She took him in, returning the k
iss, allowing her body to move against his. He caressed down her ribcage, and then she felt the rough touch of his fingers on her inner thigh.

  More. She needed more.

  She tried to angle closer to him, and he rewarded her by brushing her clit. She arched, sparks flying behind her eyes. There was too much pain and fear in the world, and she wanted this. Needed this moment of just them. Just pleasure and touch.

  His fingers pushed into her sex.

  She groaned, still kissing him, her thighs trembling.

  He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “You’ll have to tell me about that dream you were having. Baby, you’re wet.” He stroked her clit.

  She gasped and moved against his hand. “Maybe.” Not in a zillion years.

  His free hand tangled in her hair and tipped her head back. He kissed her forehead and then down the side of her face, nipping her earlobe.

  She kissed the hard line of his jaw, marveling at its strength. And warmth. Damon was always hot. “Now. Don’t make me wait.”

  He leaned up and balanced himself on his elbows before sliding to the side and unrolling a condom he’d already unwrapped. Then he returned right where she wanted him. He pressed into her, going slow, filling her almost immediately.

  Her blood heated, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He shoved in all the way, and she gasped, her body arching at the invasion. Pain quickly melded into pleasure. She stared up at him. His eyes glowed in the dim light—a burning amber. His jaw was locked.

  He pulled out and thrust back in, stretching her wide, making her feel full.

  “Faster,” she murmured, scraping her nails down his arms.

  He withdrew, sliding out, and then hammered back inside her. Again and then again. Her breasts bounced, and her hair flew across the pillow. She couldn’t get enough.

  Harder and faster. His powerful thrusts echoed in the room.

  She held on as tightly as she could.

  He shoved harder inside her, and desire had her sex clamping down hard on him. She rose high and crested the waves, climaxing with a sharp cry of pleasure. Her eyelids shut, and she shuddered against him, her entire body on fire.