Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3)

by Scarlett Finn

  The Manor was safe and it wasn’t until they returned here that she realized how alluring that security was and she didn’t want to give it up. She couldn’t tell Brodie that Rigor’s compound made her feel weak and emotional, she didn’t want him to think that she couldn’t handle what the Kindred had to face. Convincing him to let her be a part of missions was tough enough sometimes, without throwing in the chance that she might suffer effects of PTSD after each one.

  In front of Brodie, she had to be strong. “No,” she said, lowering to sit on their bed before she flopped onto her back. “This bed feels so good.” Bringing her feet up to the mattress, she pushed herself toward the middle and opened her arms. “Look how big it is.”

  Brodie returned from the walk-in where he’d been headed, and stood between her feet that overshot the edge. Running her big toes up his outer thighs, she smiled and stretched her arms over her head. She was lying horizontal to the headboard, reveling in the space afforded to her here as opposed to the full-size they’d been sharing in New York.

  It wasn’t that she minded having to sleep on top of Brodie in cramped quarters, it was that they had little room for acrobatics or fighting over dominance during playtime, which was why they’d taken to having sex on the floor more often than they did on the mattress. Of course, that gave the guys still awake in the room underneath them plenty to guffaw about over breakfast.

  After racing away from Grant’s death, they’d regrouped in one of Rigor’s safe houses. The man might have come off as a sleaze initially, but he’d lost a lot of men in Sutcliffe’s compound that day, so she understood Brodie and Tuck’s desire to stay and help him with his revenge.

  It was their revenge too. Brodie broke into Benedict Leatt’s apartment and his physical therapy practice, but nothing pointed to who he was working for. While her love was doing direct investigation, Rigor and Tuck were observing the compound. The option of storming the place had been discussed, but if they killed Leatt, they would never know who the power behind him was.

  Almost as soon as their vehicle exited the gate of Sutcliffe’s compound on the night Grant died, a stream of black vehicles coming from the opposite direction drove into the property. She and her allies had gotten out just in time. The men who had rushed in after their quick departure stood guard around the perimeter and made direct confrontation or observation impossible. All they could do was watch from a distance.

  Late on the third night, a black helicopter came down into the grounds and after a brief spell, it took off into the night. On that same night, vans and trucks poured out of the estate, proving that the land was now vacant, and Rigor wanted in before anyone else could think to claim it.

  Taking advantage of access to the house was more viable than chasing Leatt down in a helicopter because they had their own investigations to do. Rigor had been promised the estate as payment, so the Kindred moved in with Rigor and what was left of his men. After that, they conducted a thorough search of the house and the surrounding land.

  Leatt had been on the inside with Sutcliffe for months, meaning he would’ve known where to look for what he wanted. The Kindred still didn’t know what that was. What the Kindred wanted was confirmation that Sutcliffe had no backup cache that could suggest his mission wasn’t over. So far they’d found no indication of one, so attention turned to finding out what they could about Leatt.

  “You know, if you love this place so much,” Brodie drawled, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders to let it fall onto the floor before he pulled his tee shirt up over his head. Sucking her bottom lip in around her teeth, she bit into it as her fingers and toes curled. He had a body made for exercise. Seeing the hard grooves of muscle in his torso always made her salivate. “You shouldn’t have ripped your place off the market.” He hooked his thumbs into his jeans and widened his stance. “I’m not getting my jeans off ‘til you’re naked.”

  His raised brow made her grin and she scrambled up to stand on the bed and strip, tossing her clothes past him left and right until she was as bare as he requested.

  “That’s better,” he said, lunging forward to grab her thighs to tug them and send her onto her ass in the center of their bed.

  She laughed just before his mouth claimed hers and when she coiled her limbs around him, she was peeved to feel his jeans still covering his legs. “You cheated,” she murmured as he moved his jaw to scrape his stubble on her chin.

  “I haven’t heard you laugh for weeks.”

  There hadn’t been much to laugh about. Under his present probing scrutiny, she lost the impulse. “Can we leave the mission at the door?” she asked and lifted to kiss him. Taking his face in both hands, she scratched her thumbnails under his jaw. “I don’t want to think. I just want to exist with you for a while.”

  His mouth descended until his tongue plunged against hers, offering the sweet oblivion that she needed. In recent weeks, it had been hard to discuss anything personal with Brodie when there were ears everywhere. They still referred to each other by code names and held important talks outside or off the compound because despite regular bug sweeps, they were paranoid enough about Leatt and his superior to play their cards close to their chest.

  “You just need a little loving, don’t you, pretty baby?” he breathed into her ear as his hands roamed her body. “You’ve missed the mighty fuck sessions we used to have in here.”

  They’d had them in other places too, but she wasn’t going to deny her desire to connect with him. After spearing her nails into his flesh until his expression got hard and dark, she smiled. “You’ve missed fucking me hard and putting me in my place.”

  “I sure have, plaything,” he said and sat up to flip her onto her front. With a scream, she tried to push onto her hands, but his body landed on hers and with his weight holding her down, she was immobilized. He rubbed his face into her hair. “You need a guy strong enough to keep you in check.” His teeth tangled in her hair when he opened his mouth, but the painful sting made her breasts swell as her nipples hardened. “You like it rough. You need it hard.”

  Pressing his hand to her ass, he forced it between her legs to push two broad fingers into her. She hissed and managed to turn her head sideways while he kissed and nibbled on the back of her neck. “I need you to fuck me.”

  “You need what I fucking give you,” he said, dragging his teeth along the curve of her neck to her shoulder. “You’re horny. You want cock, baby? You want me to slide my dick home and use you to get off.”

  His getting off in her was a powerful experience. This man controlled life. He took it. He had seen horror and pain. Yet, it was her who gave him satisfaction. “Fuck me, Brodie,” she panted, trying to move with his fingers that were pumping into her.

  Brodie knelt up, and she tried to twist to look at him over her shoulder, but with one heavy hand on her ass, he spanked her. “You move when I fucking tell you to move.”

  Burying her face in the bed, she tried to quell a smile, but excitement was making her wriggle. She heard him cast off his jeans, and the rough hairs on his legs abraded the softness of her inner thighs when he pulled her ass up, pushing himself into her just an inch. When she tried again to use her hands for support, he let her hips go and grabbed her wrists to pull them to her lower back.

  With her face in the mattress and her pelvis in his lap, she had little control and any she did have was taken from her when something soft and strong was bound around her wrists, leaving her helpless.

  Brodie picked up her hips again and pulled her back to push himself into her again. In all the times they’d had sex, she’d become accustomed to his size and as he pumped her hips up and down, she knew he was only treating her to the bulb of his thick cock-head.

  Groaning, she tried to pull her knees under herself, but he yanked her legs straight then shunted her forward to toss her onto her back again. “You’re not in control, baby,” he sneered, dragging his eyes over her body. Her weight was balanced on her shoulders and her balled hands, which wer
e still bound at her lower spine. In spite of her attempts to free her hands from the fabric he’d used to tie her, they stayed locked together.

  “Just do it,” she said, opening her legs and lifting her knees to present herself to him.

  Instead of accepting what she offered, he shoved her legs aside and came up the bed to kneel beside her head. With a handful of her hair, he pushed the moist head of his dick against her mouth, but she clamped her lips together and shook her head. She didn’t mind sucking his cock. She enjoyed the power it gave her to torment him when he allowed her to administer his ecstasy. But putting up a fight was half the fun of their foreplay.

  “Cute,” he growled and squeezed her nose to block her airway.

  She couldn’t keep her mouth closed for more than another few seconds. When she opened to gasp in for air, he waited half a beat before he shoved his dick between her lips. He waited half a beat because he wanted to give her time to use their safe word. They’d been together for months and she had never used it. But when things got rough, he was wild and never took her consent for granted.

  The taste of his mass made her body move. Her hips came up as he plunged toward her throat. Then her pelvis lowered, allowing her to squeeze her thighs together, when he retreated. Smearing her lips with the juices seeping from him, he pushed his head into her cheek until it was stretched to its limit.

  “Say no to me again and your diet will consist of nothing but spunk for a month, hear me?”

  His threat might have been meant to intimidate, but it infuriated her hormones further. Whispering his name, she turned her head and began to suck for her life. Stirring her yearning provoked her into wanting to spur him on, to get him into the same state of frenzy that kept her from having a complete thought.

  He let her slurp and lick, pulling him into her mouth with each forceful suck. He stroked her hair from her face until he had enough to gather it inside his fist. The grip gave him the ability to direct her gaze to his so they could maintain eye contact. He loved to watch her do this, and she liked to see the heat between them glaze over his eyes. With one hard shove, he blocked her throat then pulled her back to take himself from her.

  Her breasts begged for attention and when he dove onto his side and examined her body, he slipped a hand between her thighs. Arching, Zara tried to compel his touch to her breasts. But he half-smiled and winked at her before sliding down the bed. Keeping her on her back, he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and rolled onto his front to insinuate his mouth between her thighs.

  Licking his way to her clit, he kissed and sucked, returning the favor she’d bestowed on him with every flick of his tongue. Her balled hands were digging into her lower back causing bruising pain on her spine. But the position meant her pelvis angled to better receive his mouth. She couldn’t keep quiet, couldn’t keep still, and when his tongue drove into her and he reached up to fondle one breast, she screamed and bucked up.

  She was still panting, trying to catch her breath, when his hips rose and he matched their bodies, docking himself inside her in one hard shove. Still sensitive from her last crescendo, she winced and whispered his name, trying again to pull her hands free, but it was futile.

  He stilled inside her. Through narrow eyes covered with hair and clouded by heat, she smiled at him. “Tell me you haven’t missed this,” she teased, huffing in each breath as she tried to calm her heart.

  His palm landed on her forehead, and he pushed her damp hair out of her eyes. “My dick’s only happy when he’s right here,” he said, shunting himself into her and pulling her hips up to rub her clit with his groin. She hissed again, and he lowered to kiss her. “Your sweet little pussy, hugging him so tight.”

  Pushing up to slide her tongue into his mouth, she could only show her affection through her kiss because she had no hands to caress him. But he broke away to look at her eyes as he lifted up and pushed in. Each thrust made her gasp, she wheezed in a breath and bit her lip, trying to restrain the pressure boiling in her belly.

  He ducked to bite her lip away from her and let it drag out as he pulled back. “That belongs to me. I want to hear those breathy little gasps you can’t keep in when my dick pumps the air out of you.”

  His pace was even, in deep, slide back, shove, retreat, fast in, easy out. “Brodie,” she whimpered. “Give me my hands, beau.”

  “Not a chance,” he said, kissing her nose then her chin. “This is my rodeo.”

  Grabbing her knees, he pushed them up into her torso, giving himself leverage to rise higher and pump faster. Watching their bodies connect and part, he got faster and started to grunt when she squeezed tighter, clenching herself around him, trying to keep them locked together.

  Stuttering, it took her a few tries to get his name out. But when orgasm hit her, the sole word left in her vocabulary was his name. She must have said it ten times before he tightened his grip on her legs and hit her hard with one final dive of his dick into her.

  Her heart was working so hard that her other organs had to be suffering, but she made herself open her eyes to look at him. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, then with a loud exhale, he dropped onto his back on his own side of the bed. His hands landed on his chest. Ten seconds of silence passed before he rolled over to shove her onto her side so he could free her arms.

  Her spine hurt and her arms ached. Brodie tossed aside the ripped, crumpled mess he’d used to restrain her, which turned out to be the panties she’d discarded for their tryst. Trying to stimulate feeling, she circled her wrists and extended her fingers. He took her hand and yanked her body over so her chest was pressed into his arm, and he began to massage her palm.

  “We should get out of here,” he said, pressing his thumbs into her palm then working them up, squeezing her fingers in a stretch. “There’s a flight in an hour and—”

  “I’m going to stay here,” she said, relaxing her neck so her head flopped onto his chest.

  “You don’t have to do anything,” he said, with amusement in his voice betraying that he had misconstrued her statement as a declaration of exhaustion. “I’ll carry you to the shower and soap that sexy body… maybe we’ll aim to hit the flight that leaves in two hours.”

  Wearing a smile, she freed her hands and rolled on top of him to kiss him then press her cheek down on his beating heart that shook his ribs. “No, I’m not tired from the sex.” She was, but that wasn’t the reason she planned to stay at the manor. “I meant I’m going to stay here for a few days.”

  His voice became firm. He was no longer her pliable, relaxed lover. He was asserting his authority. “Swift needs us,” Brodie said, leaving no wiggle room. “Rigor’s been stand up so far, but he’s not Kindred and I don’t trust him to have Swift’s back all the way.”

  Requesting to stay behind wasn’t something she’d done in the past, so he had to be curious about her reticence. She kept her reasons to herself because she knew he’d never understand them. She struggled to understand herself.

  Rigor’s place shouldn’t be scary now that all of the threats had been flushed out. Zara felt uneasy there. Brodie and Swift handled being there like pros. But she didn’t like facing the paranoia that lurked when she moved through the halls or the traumatic memories that speared her without warning.

  Following Art’s death, it had been her job to stay strong, and she had. Zara was proud of the way she slipped into the Kindred ranks and she didn’t want to lose her confidence. Rigor’s place would always be Sutcliffe’s compound to her and she didn’t want to spend any more nights there than she had to because it was having an effect on her conviction that she belonged in the Kindred. After all, how could she be equal to Raven or Swift when she couldn’t look at the spot Saint had fallen in without getting nauseous?

  But Brodie was right, they couldn’t abandon Swift there, the Kindred had chosen Rigor’s as their base and so that was where Brodie needed to be. If she could keep him here and lose herself in him then she would, but it would be selfish to ask him
to stay just because Rigor’s place made her feel vulnerable. Swift needed backup and it made her sick that she didn’t feel secure in being able to provide that support.

  “You should go,” she said, opening her hand on his heart as she rose to meet his eye.

  His brow furrowed. “You want to stay, but you want me to go,” he said. He wasn’t often confused, but she heard it in his tone now. “This from the woman who was begging to be allowed to come on the last trip.”

  Learning that it wasn’t easy to evade the truth with him peering at her, she traced her fingertips up and down his sternum. “I have to check in at CI. I have to see what’s going on. Julian’s right, it will do the others good to see me there.”

  Her closest colleague at CI had always been Grant. She wasn’t concerned with synergy because those left working there would have to learn to get along without her soon enough. But it seemed like a reason he might buy. “They’ll have questions,” he said, wearing a scowl. “Do you want to deal with that alone?”

  No, she didn’t, but she was better at skirting awkward questions since going through her breakneck Kindred education. “What’s the alternative?” she asked. “Are you going to come in and field those questions for me?”

  His scowl deepened. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would consider that an option. “I don’t want us to be separated. We’ve got a lot of enemies out there, baby.”

  More with every mission. “You left Swift alone,” she said, dragging a fingernail over his pec as she rested her head on him again.

  “Swift’s been doing this a lot longer than you have. And he doesn’t suck my dick.”

  Which was his way of saying that he was worried about her as a boyfriend instead of a colleague. Turning her head to kiss his chest, she acknowledged his concern. “That’s good to know. Yeah, I guess if I got kidnapped or murdered, your dick would be neglected.”