Storm Gathering: Scorpius Syndrome Book 4

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “No,” she whispered, raking her nails down his chest enough to bite but not cut. “Don't hold back. Please. Tonight. Don't hold back.” She had to have all of him. Whatever was happening, she instinctively felt she needed to leave her mark. To claim him.

  His eyes blazed, a light gray in the dim light. His thick hair fell to his shoulders, the dark shadow extending into the harsh planes of his strong visage, his starkly beautiful face. God, he was something.

  She played with his ripped abs and caressed feverishly up his sculpted chest. So much power, and right now, it belonged to her.

  Yet he still held back. Frustration edged through her along with the challenge. His hard cock pulsed against her, and she reached down, scraping her nail along his impressive length.

  He sucked in air, his eyes flaring, his chest stilling.

  The calm in the room grew heavy like the air before a lightning strike. The eye of a storm. The hint of the wildness to come. “Maureen,” he said. A claiming. A plea. A warning.

  It was the warning that did it. She was getting close. Hunger bit into her, and she wrapped her hand around his dick, her fingers against her own mound. Then she stroked him. Top to bottom. And again.

  He growled. Low and dark and deep.

  She shivered. “Give me everything,” she said, stroking him again.

  His eyes closed, and his head lifted, elongating his powerful neck. “Whatever happens, you have to know, you're it for me, Maureen Shadow. It's only been you, and it'll only ever be you. I promise.”

  The words surrounded her, cushioning the world. She let them in, let them be real, and nodded. “Only you,” she said back, the words coming from deeper than she thought possible.

  He reached between them and captured her hand, tugging her arm up above her head. In less than a second, he secured her other arm and clamped one hand around her wrists. Her back naturally arched, and her nipples rubbed against his chest.

  Sparks bit through her. Electricity uncoiled in her abdomen, and all he'd done was take control. His free hand traced her face, her lips, her jaw and then moved on to both breasts. She writhed against him, trying to gain friction, and he held her easily in place. His fingers tapped down her rib cage and belly button, finally zeroing in on her clit.

  She cried out, her legs quaking.

  He smiled, the look fierce. Then he worked two fingers inside her, twisting and brushing across a flare of nerves that almost pushed her over. Heat rose inside her, filling her, propelling her to a brink that was almost frightening.

  She struggled against his hold, trying to free her hands, needing to touch him.

  He pressed down on her wrists, immobilizing her. The craving inside her intensified to a dangerous ache, and she rode his fingers, holding nothing back. “Keep your hands up,” he ordered, removing his fingers and sliding down her, taking the covers with him.

  Before she could think, his mouth settled on her core.

  Tension beat inside her, fluttering out. She gasped, so close to exploding she had to shut her eyes.

  He licked her, swirling his tongue around, playing. Then he pushed a finger into her, added another one, working deep inside and stretching her.

  It was so much, it was everything.

  She whimpered, held on to the precipice, catching her breath before she fell.

  He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her sex. Then he kissed her gently.

  She stopped breathing completely.

  He stroked his fingers inside her, going deep, and sucked her clit into his mouth. Her nerves flared, and somehow she built some more before she finally exploded. She cried out his name, cresting wild waves, and her sex clamped down on his fingers.

  The orgasm ripped through her, taking everything, forcing her to ride the excruciating pleasure to the very end. She gasped, her body softening into the bed. God.

  He moved up and loomed above her. “You kept your hands in place. Good girl,” he rumbled, his voice hoarse.

  Hands? Who cared about hands?

  He grasped her neck and leaned down to her, possession on his lips. “You taste like heaven, and now you're mine. All of you.”

  She returned his kiss, somehow wanting more. An ache set up inside her, deep down, and she moved against him.

  He rose up to his knees on either side of her thighs, grasped her hips, and flipped her over. She landed on her chest, and her head went back. She dug her hands into the mattress, her heart kicking back into gear. “Greyson?” she asked, her body starting to boil again.

  “My way,” he murmured, pulling her hips up and forcing her to catch herself with her knees. He pressed at her entrance, tightened his grip on her hips, and drove all the way into her body from behind.

  She cried out, pain and pleasure swamping her until she could only gasp. “More,” she said.

  He filled her completely to a point she hadn't known existed. He pulled out and powered into her again, giving her everything he had.

  She lowered her head, her nails digging, her body hungering. He was taking her, and she liked it. She craved it. Her body was his to do with as he pleased, and the pleasure that drowned her should give her pause. But right now, all she could do was feel. All of him.

  He gave her no quarter, not slowing, not easing. Each powerful thrust inside her shook her body and the bed, sparking her nerve endings to life. The slap of his muscled body against hers, the sound of flesh meeting flesh, combined with their heavy breathing.

  She started to rise again, started to build, her eyelids flew open to barely see the wall. He leaned over her, grasping her neck, one hand remaining on her hip. He pulled her back to meet his thrusts, somehow going deeper inside her, claiming what was already his. His hold was absolute and unbreakable.

  The peak was so close. She climbed toward it, her body safe in his hands, her tension rising. With a cry of his name, she broke.

  The waves pummeled her this time, shooting out and sparking. She rode them, tossed about, white lightning flashing behind her eyes. The orgasm shook her and wrung her inside out, charging her into mindless oblivion.

  Greyson slammed inside her one more time, jerking hard and shuddering as he came. His teeth sank into her shoulder, and she gasped at the unexpected pain.

  His hands shook against her.

  He released her neck and withdrew, tugging her around to flop down on her, his elbows catching most of his weight. Skin to skin, body to body, panting chest to panting chest.

  He lazily swiped his tongue along her lips. “I marked you, baby. You'll keep that for a while.”

  The man sounded entirely too satisfied. She grinned, her entire body throbbing. Her eyelids shut. Wait a minute. Part of what he'd said…

  Had that just been goodbye? She opened her mouth to talk, and he pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

  “Sleep. Now,” he commanded.

  She wanted to argue, but her body was already shutting down. This pregnancy stuff was tiring. She blinked, trying to stay awake, but rest was too appealing. They'd talk in the morning whether he liked it or not.

  He shifted her to the side, and the bedding rustled. Cold brushed over her.

  She curled into herself until he returned to warm her again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. This might be the biggest. I hope she can forgive me.

  —Greyson Storm, Letters to Miss Julian

  Grey jogged down into the underground garage, his combat boots smacking the concrete. The generator lights glowed an eerie yellow across the wide area. “Everything set?” he asked, one flash drive in his pocket and the other in his boot. The good one was in his boot, and he couldn't get them mixed up. That'd be a freaking disaster.

  Damon handed over a battered bomber's jacket. “Yeah. Two Humvees are loaded with pumps, a generator, fuel, and as many weapons and explosives as I could get without being too obvious. Our men are on notice to exit the Bunker in exactly five minutes, heading north and not looking back.”

/>   Grey breathed in, quieting his voice so it wouldn't echo so much across the chamber. “Good.”

  “This is a mistake,” Damon said, his dark skin flushed. “Giving up the Bunker.”

  “I know,” Grey said. “But Jax has more soldiers than we do now, and once he's figured out what I've done, they'll attack. We can't spare any more men from headquarters until the fires are out. It's safer for us to vacate.” Maybe there would be a chance to align again after he found the second Bunker.

  “Jax won't ever let us back in.”

  Probably not. “But this keeps Maureen safe. If Vanguard has sole control of the facility, she'll be protected. I owe her that, D. You know I do.” He'd kidnapped her, impregnated her, and now was leaving her. “I can't think or fight unless she's safe.”

  “Man, you have it bad.” Damon shook his head. “You didn't tell her you were leaving, did you.” It wasn’t said as a question because Damon knew him.

  “No. She'd either have to lie to her brother or betray me and tell him the truth. I won't put her in that position.” But his gut swirled as he thought about leaving her. There was a chance he wouldn't make it back, so maybe it'd be better if she hated him. But something told him, deep down, that the thought was a mistake. His body tensed with the need to go back to her. “It's the right thing to do,” he said, trying to convince himself.

  “Uh huh. Right,” Damon said.

  Greyson clapped him on the arm and cut the thoughts of Maureen away. This could be his last moment with Damon, and that thought burned. His voice went hoarse. “You're my best friend, and I appreciate everything you've done for the Mercs. Thank you.” His heart thumped hard. “After Ferris died, I never thought I'd find another brother, and yet here you are. I'd die for you in a heartbeat, and I'll miss you if I don't make it back. If anything happens to me, I just wanted you to know.”

  Damon's chest jerked. His gaze softened. “After I lost my brothers, I never thought I'd find another one, either. I'm glad I did, Greyson. Even if you're about to do something colossally stupid.”

  Grey grinned, his chest warming. God had taken so much away, it was amazing he'd found this friendship. This brotherhood. “You have to be long gone from here. Time for you to go.”

  Damon handed him a gun and then reached for a leather jacket. “I'm coming with you.”

  “No,” Grey said. “Sorry.”

  “Wasn't asking.” Damon stomped over to two of the seven Zero XXM electric motorcycles often used by the military. The body was black, the accents chrome. “These are both charged, which should give us over thirty-five hundred hours before the batteries die.”

  Greyson eyed the bikes. The Bunker had stocked some intriguing vehicles and weapons. The electric motorcycles were dark, stealthy, and virtually silent. The president wouldn't know Grey was there until he wanted to be seen. “You need to go back and run Merc territory.”

  “Don't want to,” Damon said, swinging his leg over the bike. “You need backup. Stop being a dick.” He gave the sign, and the Humvees’ drivers started their engines, driving out of the garage and quickly away.

  Grey stared at him. It was the first time Damon had ever refused an actual order. What the hell? He couldn't shoot his brother, so there wasn't much he could do about it. But Damon was not meeting with the president. He could take cover outside the compound in case Greyson had to make a fast retreat.

  Time to go. He jumped on and started the motorcycle. He waited until Damon had driven out before following, taking one last long look at the Bunker holdings. The door shut behind him, effectively making it impossible for him to get to Maureen again.

  His chest ached as he opened the throttle and zipped through the darkened streets. There was no way she'd forgive him for just leaving her. For lying to her.

  He increased his speed, following Damon through the crumbling city, watching out for wild cats and dogs. And people. Anybody out on the street at this hour was either crazy or up to no good, and he had to focus.

  Before he knew it, they were on the US-395 North to Lake Tahoe. The drive should take about seven hours, assuming they didn't run into any trouble.

  What were the chances of that?

  * * *

  Maureen woke and rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. Cold. How long had Greyson been gone? She stood and stretched, heading in for a quick shower before getting dressed and leaving the room. The Bunker was quiet.

  Maybe he was on patrol outside?

  She made her way to the deserted cafeteria. A quick glance at the wall clock confirmed it was four in the morning. Eesh. She should've slept later.

  Heavy footsteps sounded, and she turned to see Jax and Raze stalk into the room. Raze had lost the limp from being shot the other day.

  “Where's Greyson?” Jax asked, his voice gritty and his eyes gleaming.

  She faltered. “I, ah, don't know. I assumed he was in here or maybe doing patrols?” Dread began to pool in her stomach. “What's going on?”

  Sami Steel stumbled into the room while tugging a comb through her unruly hair. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her eyes looked drowsy. “Why the hell did you send Clarence to wake me up? I need some damn sleep, Jax.”

  Jax jerked his head toward the control room at the end. “All of the Mercs are gone, along with two Humvees, some weapons, and pumps to fight the fires. Also two motorcycles. Get up to the computer room and make sure they didn't take anything else. I have Lynne checking the two labs down below.”

  Sami paused and then launched into a run for the far staircase.

  Maureen gaped. “What? The Mercs are all gone?” Where was Greyson?

  “Yeah,” Jax said, red spiraling across his rugged cheekbones. “When was the last time you saw Grey?”

  Heat filled her face. “Um, last night. Around midnight, I think.” It might've been closer to one. Who the hell knew.

  Raze's eyes turned a hard, deep blue.

  Hurt pummeled at Maureen. The bite mark on the back of her shoulder ached a little at the reminder of what he'd done. What he'd said. How could he just leave? “There has to be some sort of mistake,” she said lamely.

  Sami emerged on the landing. “They've been into the computers, but I'll need a little time to figure out why.”

  Jax lifted his head, his warrior's body going deadly still. “Any chance we're in danger?”

  Tace jogged into the room. “I just checked the sub-level. The fail-safe explosives are still dismantled. The Mercs didn't re-engage them before they left.” His words were clipped.

  Sami nodded. “If the explosives aren't engaged, then we're fine. Though I have to find out what they took.” She disappeared again.

  “Maybe they went to fight the forest fire?” Tace asked, shaking out his arms.

  “Why not let us know?” Raze asked grimly. “Why leave Vanguard in sole possession of the Bunker?” He aimed his words at Maureen. “You know him better than anybody else still here. What's he doing?”

  The questions hurt because she didn't have a damn answer. “I, ah, I don't know.” She sounded lost, so she cleared her throat. “He didn't say anything about the computers or about leaving.” He'd been too busy fucking her into oblivion to talk. The room started to spin around her.

  “Whoa,” Raze said, reaching her and settling her into a chair. “Take deep breaths. It's going to be okay, Moe. I promise.”

  Her brother. The one man in her entire life who hadn't let her down. Ever. “I should've listened to you about Greyson,” she murmured, pushing hair away from her face. “Maybe. I mean, I don't know. He might have a good reason for leaving.” After the night they'd shared, didn't she somewhat owe him the benefit of the doubt? Why would he just leave?

  Raze crouched and patted her shoulder. “Breathe, sweetheart. You have to stay calm.”

  True. It was time to think and stop feeling. “The only reason he wouldn't have mentioned leaving is because he thought you guys would try and stop him,” she murmured, thinking through the problem ratio
nally. “So he has to be heading somewhere you guys wouldn't like.” Her stomach rolled over.

  “To meet the president?” Jax asked, his voice loud in the quiet morning. “The only reason he'd do that is to align with him and against us.”

  Raze glanced over his shoulder at Jax. “It'd be easier to do that from the inside here. Lure us in and then attack. Greyson did the opposite. He set us up to be wary of him, and he relinquished any control of this place, the computers, and the weapons. Not a smart move if he's working against us.”

  Hope drifted through Maureen. That made sense. “He wouldn't put his child in danger,” she said quietly. No matter what he thought of her, what he felt for her, he would protect the baby.

  Raze frowned. “You sure?”

  She nodded. It was the only thing she was sure about at the moment. “Vanguard controls the facility, so we're all safe here.” Grey might've left her, but he made sure she was secure. Like he'd promised. Why the hell hadn't he confided in her?

  “Why would he meet with the president then?” Jax asked, crossing his muscled arms.

  “I don't know,” Maureen said—again. It didn't make sense. “We're just guessing that he went to meet with the president. It's possible he's doing something else you wouldn't like.” What, she had no clue.

  Apparently she didn't know him at all.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The strategy of this war is the best part.

  —President Bret Atherton

  The morning sun sparkled off Lake Tahoe, making the water look carefree and inviting. Greyson left Damon in a secure location yards from the first entry point of the president's compound. The electric motorcycles were excellently quiet.

  He flashed his headlight on and slowed down, not surprised when two guards emerged on the road, automatic weapons pointed at his chest.

  The first guy held up a hand to stop, and Greyson did as directed.

  “Get off,” the Elite Force soldier said.