Twist My Heart (Wicked Games Book 1)

by Brooke Taylor

  She was hurt, but she’d heal soon. In the meantime, he needed to figure something, anything out about who was after her. Feds searching the tornado site wasn’t a good sign. It meant the whole Hell in a Handbasket incident with Animal Control was merely the tip of the iceberg. The internet hadn’t helped him at all and after kissing Thea, he’d decided there was no way he was contacting the so-called fiancé. One—if the Feds were after her, they were watching any significant others as well. Two—he selfishly didn’t want to open that can of worms with Thea.

  Especially now.

  He’d crossed a line and fuck if he could step back.

  No, the only way to find out if anyone was truly after her was to pull an Operation Lizard, as Coop used to call it. Go out in public and see if Thea grew herself another tail. Using her as bait was risky as hell, but she did need some supplies. If she kept borrowing his clothes, he’d have nothing left to wear when she was gone. It would all be as penetrated by her scent as his skin was.

  God, he’d sweated through over two hours of high-intensity training and still the intoxicating smell of her clung to him, driving him harder and faster than ever. He hadn’t pushed his body this aggressively in a workout since Hell Week. In the mirrored wall, he watched his form. He finished off with hanging reverse crunches, his muscles tightening as they burned past the point of pain.

  He rarely lifted weights. Instead he used his own body weight to train—chin-ups, pushups, running… He rock-climbed, snowshoed, rowed. Always testing his endurance. Choosing the path of most resistance. His body didn’t have the bulk of a weightlifter or the flawlessness of an athlete. Instead it had the hard, sharp edges of a weapon. The scars proved it’d been used as such.

  The cuts giving his abs definition deepened with the strain of repetition after repetition until they looked severe. And still, he could feel the tickling dance of Thea’s fingers tracing them.

  He hung from the bar, stretching his muscles with the gravitational pull as he caught air. His body still screamed for her, but he was thinking clearly again. Which meant he was kicking himself for being such a prick.

  He’d stopped!

  After—after!—she’d said she needed him. Getting her all warmed up then nothing—nothing! Shit. There were a hundred things he could’ve done to satisfy her without hurting her, but when he’d heard her cry out the only option in his sex-scorched brain had been to hit the emergency stop.

  He dropped from the bar and grabbed a towel, scrubbing it over his face as he tried to erase the vision of her steamed eyes going wide with confusion…and disappointment. He was a fucking V-tease. Great. Freaking great.

  Since when did he abort a mission simply because of a minor hitch? Hitches were his specialty. He prided himself on his creativity on the battlefield. Why couldn’t he bring more of that quick thinking into the bedroom? He could do better. He owed her, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thea stared at the wall of women’s jeans in the department store. Her only clothing option for their trip to the Boulder Mall had been to wear the white dress from lost and found again. Seeing as how sunlight made the fabric as sheer as Saran Wrap, Nik had given her a navy hoodie to wear over it. The springtime air along the Front Range was cold enough to warrant the sweatshirt anyway. But if she stripped it off, he’d have to start killing people. Like hell anyone but him would be enjoying that view.

  “Can you please tell me what women wear? A brand? Anything?” The look on her face was confused and broken. Her lower lip swelled as her eyes implored him. “Please, I hate feeling so helpless about everything.”

  Damn. He didn’t just want to help her. He wanted to slay dragons and conquer cities for her. Hell, that would’ve been easy. But clothes weren’t in his wheelhouse the way death and diner food were. Plus, he freaking hated shopping for anything not rated by horsepower or classified as a weapon.

  He stared at the foreboding columns of neatly folded denim pants. As many pairs as he’d stripped off of women’s bodies in the past, he’d never really paid them much attention. Getting them off had been the only objective. Pun intended.

  He shoved a hand through his hair. Wash colors, rises, cuts, lengths, flares, hem styles filled his range of vision. How could a fabric as simple as denim be so freaking complicated?

  “You know, women’s jeans are more of an advanced shopping maneuver. We should start with something easier.”

  “How about panties? Would they be easier for you?” Her frustrated voice carried loud enough for a couple of pre-teen girls to giggle, the older woman chaperoning them to gasp, and for Nik to, son of a bitch, blush. Thank God his stubble had grown thick enough to hide most of the evidence.

  Delighting in his torment, Thea smiled in amusement as her eyes lit. He’d been slow to catch on to how much she stoked his fire when he couldn’t do shit about it. Or could he? He envisioned running his hand under the filmy material of the dress, up the gentle curve behind her thigh, and giving her bare butt a playful smack. Unfortunately the area still had too many friendlies, so he tilted his head and fired off, “Sounds like a great idea, considering you’re not wearing any.”

  Well, that cleared the area faster than a flash bang. The woman wrangled her snickering charges and bugged out. That should teach the filterless flirt a lesson in discretion. If not, there was still the option of swatting her sweet ass. He turned in time to see his target swaying straight toward the damn lingerie department. Lengthening his stride, he caught up to her at a display of particularly sexy, brightly colored bras and bikinis.

  Bracing his arms on the racks alongside her, he flexed his muscles and leaned in, hissing, “You know, for a fugitive, you’re not being very discreet.”

  “You said no one in Colorado would even know who I am or what happened in Kansas,” she countered, reminding him of the assurances he’d given back at the cabin. In actuality, all it had taken to convince her to compromise her cover was the promise of a bacon and sweet roll breakfast. “Besides, what’s so shocking about the word ‘panties’?”

  “You embarrassed those girls.”

  “You embarrassed them more than I did and you were the only one blushing.”

  He growled, realizing she was right. “Just stop saying that word.”

  “Panties? Why?”

  Because I’d like to be able to walk without a goddamn hard-on for one freaking… “Never mind! Just try not to attract any more attention.”

  He didn’t want to alarm her, but while he wasn’t too worried about the incident at Animal Control being an issue in Colorado, he was concerned about the black SUV chasing her before the tornado. The same one he’d spotted prowling around her wrecked truck the next day. Unfortunately, black SUVs were a dime a dozen in the mall parking lot.

  Nik kept his eyes roving across the various entrances and exits, while also noting anyone who seemed at all out of place. His scrutiny returned time and again to the six-foot-two, stubble-roughened man with tattoos standing in the land of silk and lace. Nikolas Steele—the most suspicious of them all.

  Suspicious? No, no, no. He belonged here just fine. This was all part of ordinary, everyday life he needed to get used to being a part of. A man shopping at the mall with his girl screamed normal. Right? Movies, dinners, amusement parks—regular couples did these things.

  Whoa. Back the convoy up, soldier.

  His girl? Couple?

  What was next? A grocery store run? And how about a freaking trip to Bed Bath & Beyond Boring while he was at it?

  Wouldn’t be a bad idea to pick up some nicer towels and a decent bathmat…and they did need eggs and milk. Maybe some scented laundry soap…like Tropical Sunset or Wildflower Gorge. Women liked that kind of shit, right? Plus, Titan needed dog food and probably a bed of some kind. Maybe one those squeaky balls like the Team dogs went apeshit over.

  Nik shook his head. What. The. Hell was he thinking? They’d barely shared more than a few heated kisses and suddenly his
bathmat wasn’t cloud-like enough for her angelic toes? His towels not luxuriously plush enough to touch her silky smooth, mouthwatering skin? Squeaky balls? Floral fucking laundry soap? Seriously? No, what he needed was See Ya, Gotta Go scented soap—like the burning rubber of a set of Jeep tires leaving skid marks. Or maybe it would be faster to radio in for extraction. That whole no-man-left-behind thing had to apply to shopping malls and relationships, right? Fast rope in, boys, I’m in Ladies Lingerie. And hurry, I’m losing blood flow to my testicles.

  Instead of retreating, he found himself leaning more heavily on the racks, pushing closer toward her. Who was this girl and what had she done to his sanity?

  Unintimidated by his crowding and downright aggressive appraisal of her, Thea selected a tiny red lace thong on a miniature hanger and held it up against her hips for sizing.

  So much for his stiffy ever going soft. This girl fought dirtier than the Taliban.

  As if his eyes weren’t already zoomed in enough to determine the thread count, she lifted it for his appraisal. He tried not to look like Little Red Riding Hood’s wolf. My, Nik, what big eyes you have…

  “Do women wear these?”

  Yes, please…with a whip cream bra on top.

  She looked quizzically at him, clearly expecting an actual freaking answer to her trickster question. Being an expert on women’s undergarment practices would undoubtedly result in never getting to see her in her undergarments. Time to hedge again. “Of course women wear them. Why else would they sell them in the women’s section?”

  He mentally patted himself on the back. Perfect answer. Not only would she buy the thong, but he still stood a good chance of seeing it on her. Pays to be a winner!

  She gave the hanger a little shake back and forth, making the crotch dance as she studied it. He licked his lips. My, Nik, what a big tongue… He coughed before said tongue rolled all the way to the floor.

  “Yeah, but they look like they’d be uncomfortable, right?”

  What? No! Wrong answer.

  “Are they?” she pressed.

  Maybe. Probably. Shit, how would he know? He’d never worn one. It looked ridiculously uncomfortable, but saying so would mean she’d put it back on the rack and he was already salivating at the idea of seeing her in it. “Uncomfortable? I don’t think so,” he lied.

  “Really?”

  She fingered the T-back. No doubt they were both imagining the glorious valley in which it would nestle. My, Nik, what a big… Okay, his dick couldn’t take much more of this.

  Buy the thong, don’t buy the thong. If she was so worried about comfort, how about never buying any underwear ever again and living naked in his bedroom, lounging on insanely silky sheets that smelled like a mountain meadow in full fucking bloom? Bring. It. On.

  I got this. He lowered his chin, leveled her with his gaze, and straight up warned her, “You won’t have it on long enough to be uncomfortable, Tiggs, because I will tear it from you with my teeth.”

  Her eyes went from scoffing disbelief to stunned and round at his wolfish grin. My, Nik, what big teeth you have… A soft gulping sound escaped her throat as she read the silent reply in his eyes, Better to bite your panties off with, my dear.

  Her pulse jumped in the soft hollow of her neck. That’s right, Tiggy. Two can play at this game. Her stunned gaze melted over him. Then her eyes shifted, no doubt catching the sight of an elderly sales lady, who’d been en route to assist, retreating toward hosiery. When Thea turned back to him, she simply reprimanded, “You’re not being very discreet, Nik.”

  There it was—the coy little click of her tongue she liked to make when she said his name. It should’ve annoyed him, but instead it turned him on more, which was exactly what she seemed to enjoy doing the most. For all her teasing, though, his mouth couldn’t help but water at the sight of the red lace thong still swaying from the hanger in the crook of her finger as she moved toward a section of more sensible cotton underwear. Little did she realize those white string bikinis would undoubtedly meet the same fate. He smiled devilishly at the thought. Oh yeah, they were toast.

  Chapter Twenty

  I ran my hand behind the black mesh of a bikini and bra set, my brows lifting at how sheer they were. What was the point of putting something on if you could see right through it? Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the hitch to Nik’s step grow, answering my question. Ooooh. Well now…

  The set cost a small fortune. Way too pricey for the lack of actual fabric or the budget I’d been trying to stick to, but I lifted the hangers and added them to my developing pile. I’d grown entirely too frustrated by Nik’s hands-off attitude since he’d abruptly stopped kissing me last night. Whatever had been started on our date, my flesh was desperate to finish.

  The sight of his lips and teeth and tongue had my body replaying the heavenly sensations they’d treated it to last night. All I wanted to do was climb him like the mountain he was. But so far, he’d maintained a minimum distance of two feet from me, and he’d only gotten that close because we had been in the car. Now that we were in the lingerie department, he seemed to be rethinking things. If the sight of his clenched jaw was any indication, his restraint wouldn’t hold out much longer.

  I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. Oh yes, I’d for sure be buying these. If the sight of my fingers through the mesh fabric had him walking funny, the sight of the rest of me peeking out behind the sheer material would surely bring him to his knees.

  Stealing a glance through a crack in the dressing room door, I tried not to drool at him standing guard in warrior-man mode. He’d worn black pants he called BDUs. Whatever they were, they made his tight butt look positively grab worthy. And the snug, charcoal-gray V-neck T-shirt needed to come straight off again. Images from when he’d stripped it away at the carwash we’d stopped at before the mall replayed in my mind. All of those muscles and his gorgeous tattoo ink had had me ready to lick the Jeep’s window. Given that Titan had already licked them, I’d held myself back.

  I eased the dressing room door farther open. Nik needed a little push and I had just the thing to kick his ass clean over the edge. Scanning the department store, his head slowly panned right to left, hitching as he caught sight of me ogling him through the cracked door. He kept his focus forward as he crossed his arms over his chest, straining the cotton T-shirt as he spread his back muscles and popped his biceps. “Yes?”

  “Can you come tell me if I have this on right?” I bit down on my lip, but failed to suppress my giggle.

  A deep snarling sound erupted from his throat, but he didn’t turn to look. Tightly, he managed one word. “Behave.”

  Behave? I held in a chuckle. Oh, hell no. It was too damn entertaining not to. I stepped into the small aisle between the dressing rooms. Why was he acting so prim? There was no one else around and he’d already seen me naked after the ice bath. I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. “Nikolas…”

  That turned his head.

  The speed at which he backed me into the dressing room made me gasp. Who knew a man his size could move so quickly and quietly? My mouth blubberingly tried to finish, “What do you thin—” Oh, who could fucking think anyway?

  With a burning press of his thumbs on my pelvic bones, his hard fingers wrapped into the soft flesh of my hips as he stalked me backwards in slow motion. My nearly naked body was thrumming with acute awareness of how close it was to his fully clothed one—the rough brush of his belt against the hollow of my exposed belly button, the durable fabric of his pants grazing the delicate skin of my inner thighs, the hard edge of his hiking boots sweeping against the sensitive arch of my foot. Each slow step back, each dragging brush of his clothing against my skin, sent a new round of goosebumps to scatter. And another wave of heat to pummel my core.

  “What do I think?” he hissed. “I think the saleslady is going to call mall security.”

  I backed, bumping into the mirrored wall. Hot panting breaths pushed from his lips down between the swells of my breasts a
s their jiggling motion caught his attention. My nipples strained painfully, fighting for more than the grazing rake of his eyes they received. The smoldering look he returned with sent a wild flush to sizzle through me.

  “Is that what you want?” Leaning in, he whispered roughly against my ear, “For the saleslady to hear you?”

  His grip shifted off my hip as his palm came around low on my abdomen pressing me flush against the wall. The glass mirror chilled my ass cheeks, sharply contrasting with the heat burning off Nik’s body, the combination devastatingly erotic.

  “Or for some mall cop to come and stop me?”

  “No,” I gasped in a whimper. My breath stuttered and trembled with need. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “Not unless you say the word.” His ground-out, low vibrato made it sound like a threat. I took it as a whispered promise.

  But I didn’t want words. “Touch me.”

  “Here?” His fingertips teased the elastic band.

  My quiet voice was hoarse with impatience. “Lower.”

  The wide band on his watch jangled as his wrist flicked the cold metal against my skin. The warm heel of his palm slid whisper quiet over the black mesh as his fingers cupped me between my thighs. A pleasurable cry shot up my throat, tangling in the air with his breathy growl. His free hand quickly clasped over my mouth.

  “Time to play the Quiet Game, Tigger,” he gritted out against the shell of my ear. Goosebumps tingled across my skin. “You can’t make any noise, understand?”

  I nodded, then brushed a kiss against his palm as the hand covering my mouth abandoned my lips.

  Nik braced against the mirror so his body could angle over mine. I wanted it against me. But before I could protest, strong fingers began moving between my legs, massaging. Despite the rest of his body remaining as motionless as a statue, I could feel the intense energy building within him. Every muscle tightening, drawing me closer. He took care not to crush himself against my sore ribs. Exercised control not to grind against me or grip me too tightly. Even so, his body had thoroughly invaded mine and I was happy to surrender it no matter the pain that may come. My hips shifted impatiently, curling my body tighter into his palm as I rocked harder into his hand.