He was striking.
She raised herself on her elbow to see this powerful man lose himself, while her own pussy pulsed with need. After the intense orgasms, she’d swear there was a hollow in the core of her that only he could satisfy. She wanted to taste him, to mount him, to be lost in the sensation of having him inside her, even if it was for just one night.
His big hand squeezed over hers so tightly it almost hurt, and he worked his cock with a violent pace until he let out a primeval groan and her hand became hot and wet with his cum.
She could hear him breathing hard. She sat up, looking him over. What a superb supine machine he was. But too dangerous for her, and too damned commanding.
Long term, she wanted the things any normal woman wanted—a husband and kids. Troy didn’t fit that pretty family picture. Mating with Troy would be like trying to tame a lion.
“Why are you looking at me?” he asked.
Admiring you. “Stay there. I’ll get a cloth.”
He didn’t try and stop her, so she padded into the bathroom, found a hand towel, wet it, and squeezed it out. She came back in and sat next to him, wiping away the stickiness.
“That feels good,” he said, his eyes hooded.
She noticed his voice had lost its rough and threatening edge. The hard lines on his face had lessened, and the tightness around his jaw was gone.
She wiped his hands, leaned forward, and kissed him lightly on the mouth. She wanted to get him on her side and make him like her.
Not because she could see a future together. Hell, no.
But she had to find a way to save her brother. Because when Troy found Brian, she was terrified he would kill him.
Chapter Seven
Troy didn’t want to like Stacey sitting next to him.
He’d expected her to be a stuck-up whiny bitch. But she wasn’t. It sure would have made his job easier if she’d played the princess and he could despise her. Instead, she’d used her natural warmth to pry open his cold, dark shell. He didn’t want to let her in, but she was good at chipping away, and he was as brittle as a shard.
Innocent as she was, she wasn’t above using every sexual wile she possessed to break him down.
God, he’d adore fucking her. Some things could be faked, but the sounds she made in the throes of orgasm…they fucking caught his imagination. She wanted his cock inside her, and he wanted to drive it into her tight little cunt. Over and over. His gut told him she’d like it. He definitely would.
And that was what worried him.
Do the trade. Cut loose. Walk away. That was his directive in this thing.
He didn’t do attachment. Of any kind. Of any length.
She settled back onto the bed, cuddling up close. “Troy?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you want to fall in love?”
The woman was definitely a mind reader. “What kind of question is that?”
“Just answer it.” She reached out and pulled his arms around her.
He froze, but she smelled nice, and her body was compliant. He just wanted to go to sleep breathing in the scent of her. He was more relaxed than he had a right to be. “I’ll answer if you don’t ask anything else.”
“Okay.”
“Why don’t I trust your complacency?” he muttered.
“Just tell me,” she urged.
He took in a deep breath and sighed. “I do a dangerous job. Twenty percent of the guys who go out on a mission don’t come back.”
He couldn’t tell her about how he and his men had been ordered to get an American civilian out of Damascus. He was shot at the moment he’d approached the house, so he neutralized the threat, only to find the house just held women and children.
He shuddered. Some sins could never be washed clean.
He wrapped his arms around Stacey. Sweet and fresh felt good.
“Troy?”
“I don’t talk about my work.”
“I don’t expect you to,” she persisted. “I want to know if you’ve ever been in love.”
“That’s another question.”
She was stroking her fingers down his chest, her thumb and forefinger playing with his nipples, and the action was going straight to his cock. He took her hand, held it, and closed his eyes. Love? Him? Not likely.
Chapter Eight
Troy was out cold until nine in the morning, which was unheard of, and woke up with a hard-on, which was his norm. After years in the military, he’d learned to work on little sleep and deal with the hard-on in the shower.
Stacey’s back was against the wall, and he could feel her breath against his face. Her mouth was slightly open, and her lovely face relaxed. He leaned forward and stole a kiss, savoring the soft sensation of her lips. A taste. That’s all he allowed himself.
He wasn’t stupid enough to get attached. Besides, he had a job to do, and Stacey was going to hate him to hell and back.
“Kiss me again,” she ordered, hooking her thigh around his hip and locking him close, pressing her sex against his hard-on. She rolled her hips against the head of his cock.
She was unsuspecting about what would happen if she didn’t tell him where her brother was. Fuck. Double fuck. Asshole that he was, he was too horny to care. His cock was rock-hard, his balls so damned tight they were painful. He rolled on top of her and took her in his arms, kissing her hard.
His tongue tasted hers, sucking and mating. He couldn’t summon tenderness. All he wanted was ram into her so that every ounce of guilt, of humanity, was erased.
He knew what an animal he could be.
“Mmm.” She sighed, kissing him back, running her hands down his torso.
His cock was nudging her entrance. “There’s no stopping this, Stacey.”
“No one has ever given me orgasms like you.” She opened her legs and wrapped them around his back. Wet and willing.
“It was your first orgasm, wasn’t it?”
“The best,” she said, her eyes shining.
A fuse fired in his brain. He drove himself into her, the head of his cock pushing past her tight entrance. She gasped, her fingernails digging into his back, and her whole body stiffened. It was a cruel beginning, rough and hard.
He was too fucking big for her, but crazy, raw lust blotted out everything.
At first, she tensed under him, too innocent to cope with his ferocity. Slowly, she met him with tentative rolls of her hips, as if savoring the newness of him. A soft moan left her lips.
He rose on his elbows to gaze into her eyes as he thrust into her, not wanting to miss her reaction. Her enjoyment of him.
It was a mistake.
Her eyes were glazed, her soft mouth open, but she was looking right back at him with trust that zeroed straight to his heart. She met him thrust for thrust, now giving him everything and more. She was a tight but perfect glove around his cock. He hadn’t expected it would feel so right.
Her eyelids became hooded, and he could feel her cunt contracting around his cock. Then she cried out, clutching at him, grinding her pussy against him, her whole body shuddering. She was on fire, wet and open, milking his cock with a ferocity that matched his own.
When he came, it was with a roar that made him think he was levitating with the intensity of it. Finally, he pulled himself out of her and slumped onto his back, barely able to think. He was used to sex. It wasn’t meant to be mind-shattering.
She curled herself around him, her hand stroking his chest. “I’m so glad we had this moment.”
He was expecting her to talk. After all, she always did. But after those few words, she was quiet.
And that hit him hard.
He had seen too much pain in his life, so only flat emotion reigned within him. But at her quiet, heartfelt statement, something gave deep inside him.
Chapter Nine
Head down, Troy muttered he was going to have a shower and left the room.
Too full of endorphins to care, Stacey reveled in the scent of him on her and
the way her sex throbbed with residual pleasure. She lay back and stretched, knowing the man could become addictive.
A craving too intense to resist.
Once this crazy ordeal was over, she’d have to forget him, before he wormed his way into her bloodstream. The guy thought he was above the law, but she got what he was about. Family.
Brian could be damned stubborn. An uncommunicative grunter. Impossible. How the hell did she attract these sorts of men into her life? Silent men, who only opened their mouths to issue orders.
Like Troy.
Maybe it had something to do with the military life. Her stepfather was a pain in the ass, but despite that, her mother adored him and was able to coax him out of his moods, fussing over him, hugging and kissing him until he became putty to her touch.
Stacey wasn’t that kind of woman.
Play and walk away. After being used so badly by her last man, that’s how she wanted it.
Troy came back into the room, his towel slung low over his hips. Good God, the man was worse than chocolate. Her mouth watered at the mere sight of him. She longed to run her fingers over his ripped abdomen. He was a wall of muscle, sexy and dangerous. It was like opening a gift with a warning label on the package.
“Get up, Stacey. I have a job for you.”
“What? I don’t clean.”
She sat up, and his gaze zeroed in on her naked breasts before he averted it. His mouth formed a grim line. She still had rash marks where he’d kissed her there.
“Go wash up.” He reached into his wardrobe, pulled out a T-shirt, and tossed it to her.
A ripple of alarm ran up her spine. She was sticky, her mind and body in a love haze. Thank God she’d gotten an injection just over three months ago, or she’d be in huge trouble right now because the thought of using a condom had never even crossed her mind this morning. Still, it was time to get another injection because she didn’t like taking her contraceptive to the edge.
She went to the bathroom, stepped into the tub, and washed all traces of him away. Except, it wasn’t so easy. After she dried herself and pulled on his T-shirt, his woodsy scent was still all over her.
She opened the bathroom cabinet to look for a hair tie because sleeping on her long damp hair had turned it to riotous curls.
“There’s nothing you can use as a weapon there.” She turned. He was standing at the bathroom door, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils pinched.
“Just what am I supposed to be attacking you with? A toothpick?” She held one up.
“What do you need?”
“A hair tie or scrunchy.” Her gaze flicked to the bedroom. “I’d like my hair off my face, so I can see better when I gut you with the toothpick.”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he strode into the kitchen and returned holding an elastic band, and in his other hand, her cell phone. She recognized its flowery cover.
Her pulse zoomed. Freedom!
She took the elastic, pulled her hair into a knot on the top of her head, and held out her hand for her phone. “What do you want?”
“Call your brother.” Troy’s face was grim.
“Why don’t you call him?”
“I’ve tried. He won’t pick up.”
“But he will for me.”
“Smart girl.” He took her by the arm and propelled her into the sitting room.
She jerked her arm from his grasp. She’d have a bruise tomorrow.
“Tell him to bring Lizzie home.”
“You said you’d bash him.”
“Yeah. If he has hurt Lizzie.” Troy’s face was implacable.
“He hasn’t. I know my brother.” Stacey swiped the cell phone from him, punched in Brian’s number, and waited for him to pick up.
“Put the phone on speaker,” Troy ordered.
She did as he asked.
“Stacey?” Brian’s voice sounded sleepy.
“Brian, I need to talk to you. Troy has taken me to his place, and he’s keeping me here. He says you’ve kidnapped Lizzie, his sister. I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. I know you haven’t hurt her.” She waited desperately for her brother’s response, Troy standing grimly by her side. “Right?”
“Stacey,” Brian’s voice was hoarse. “Has he hurt you?”
“Not yet, you bastard,” Troy said.
She turned to him. Anger had suffused his face with blood, so the skin around his throat was dark. He looked dangerous. She stepped backward, but he gripped her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh.
Sharp, stark fear made Brian’s voice drop an octave. “Where are you? I’ll save you.” She could almost hear his mind ticking over as he worked out what to do.
Brian was no coward. He’d done four years in the navy before he’d joined their dad in the car parts business. But she didn’t want a hero. She didn’t want her brother maimed, or worse.
“Let go, Troy. You’re hurting me,” she said, pulling away.
He snatched the phone out of her hand. “I have Stacey. Bring Lizzie home. Now.”
“I can’t do that,” Brian said.
“Put my sister on the phone,” Troy ordered harshly.
“She can’t talk to you at the moment,” Brian said.
“Why not? I want proof she’s okay,” Troy said, menace oozing off him.
Stacey stepped back, rubbing her wrist. This was not good. Why didn’t her brother just cooperate?
“She’s out,” Brian said. “And when she gets back, she’s staying right by my side.”
“Listen here, you fucking fool. You mess with a Slayer’s woman, you die,” Troy said.
“You don’t scare me, you prick,” Brian said.
“Brian!” Stacey shrieked, gripping Troy’s arm, but he shook her off like she was a pup. She recognized the stubbornness in Brian’s tone. Demanding something of Brian never got the right response. She’d lived with him, seen Dad beat the crap out of him when he was younger.
It never got Dad anywhere, either.
“Give me the phone, Troy. You’re doing this all wrong.” She fought to get the phone. She knew she’d get a better result talking to him than Troy’s threats.
Troy rounded on her, and she froze. She was staring at a murderous mask. A stone-cold killer. An icy shard of terror speared down her spine.
“Listen, fuckwit. If you love your sister, you’ll do what I say, or I’ll mail Stacey back to you in pieces.”
Sickened by this new side of Troy, a side she’d never have believed after last night, she backed away until she was pressed against the wall. “Brian, don’t come home,” she screamed. “He’ll kill you.”
Troy stalked over to her and held the phone up. “I’ll give you a sample of what’s to come.”
“Get away from me!”
He grabbed her and twisted her arm behind her back, marching her toward the veranda, which overhung the bayou. He shoved her forward, so her hips slammed against the railing, and, holding her in place with his own, pushed her torso forward over the water. There were alligators lying below in the bayou, their great, ancient bodies unmoving until the noise alerted them like a summons.
She cried out in pain and in terror.
What he was doing hurt her body, but what really seared her heart was his betrayal.
How could he have sex with her one minute, then act like a cold, hard animal the next?
“You swore you wouldn’t hurt me!” she cried.
An enormous alligator propelled itself upward toward her. A screamed rose up inside her, all sense of reason gone as its great gaping jaws opened wide.
“Stacey!” Brian yelled through the phone, his voice hoarse.
“I’ll tear her apart. Torture her until she begs to die,” Troy snarled. “I want to hear my sister’s voice.”
The alligator’s jaws snapped below her. Her heart plunged into her mouth. It seemed too far away to get her, but common sense had fled with her wits. She was certain she was going to die!
Troy pulle
d her back and into his arms.
Every single part of her was trembling. Despite the heat, her hands and feet were freezing. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her legs crumbled under her. And everything went black.
Chapter Ten
Asshole. He was a fucking animal. A cruel bastard.
The litany of self-recriminations marched through Troy’s mind as he scooped Stacey up and carried her to the bedroom, laid her down, and elevated her legs to get the blood back to her head. Her skin was cold and clammy, so he tucked a blanket around her. He checked her pulse, feeling its rapid fluttering beat.
Any trust they’d established last night was definitely dead.
He shouldn’t give a fuck. He’d never cared about the insurgents he’d wasted. But with Stacey, he did give a damn.
Today’s action churned his gut. Why’d it have to feel different with a woman? With this woman?
Because he’d fucked her. He’d thought he was immune to feelings. Fucking fool.
She was the color of the sheet.
His thoughts went straight back to his mission. His purpose. Was Lizzie in a predicament just like this?
Fucked and fucked over by Animal?
The asshole’s voice had sounded protective until Troy threatened him. Animal was fearless. Despite what Stacey said, he’d seen Animal take a man apart with his bare fucking hands. Beast didn’t know him well enough to trust him with Lizzie.
“Stacey! Wake up.” Sickened, he rubbed her arms, trying to get some warmth back into her. She was breathing rhythmically, but she should be coming to by now. He took her pulse, relieved the fluttering had gone.
Why the hell was she still out? He changed positions, sitting below her, and lifted her legs higher onto his shoulder to get the blood flow to her brain.
She stirred and opened her eyes. He watched horror dawn as she recognized him. She opened her mouth and screamed.
“Stop it, Stacey. You’re fine. You’re safe.”
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