The Men of Elite Metal: Platinum, Zinc, & Francium

by Rebecca Royce

  “I’ve always got a bit of a throb going on. I can manage in crowds pretty well if I don’t let myself think about it.”

  “Okay. Then I know the place. It’s quiet, and we’ll blend in. I have some extra clothes for us in the car.”

  She did? What else had she been doing when he’d been unconscious? “Did you buy them or steal them?”

  “A little of both. I don’t want to use all our money today. Oh, and I know you want to talk about what happened before I got taken. We’ll do so at dinner.” She nodded as if she liked the idea. “Another thing.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. Had Sarah always been so bossy? And why did he find it so fucking hot?

  She got and held his eye contact steadily. He had no interest in ever looking away. She was so…pretty. “I know I’m not your type.”

  What? “Come again?”

  “I am not the type of girl you prefer.”

  “Ah.” He rubbed his forehead. His head didn’t hurt, the movement gave him something to do so he could catch his breath. Sarah Steele was every guy’s type. “I don’t think I have a type. If I recall correctly, my former dating life involved all kinds of women. Brunettes,” although none of them had so many different shades in their hair as she did, “blondes, redheads, across the gambit for race and religion too. I enjoy women. Period.”

  “You misunderstand me. I don’t mean physically.” She smiled then. “I have killer legs, of course you’d want me.” As if she wanted to show them off, she held her left out in front of her for a second. His cock jumped in his pants. Shit, she was so fucking hot.

  Sarah kept talking. “I mean you go after girls who are needy. I’m not traditionally that girl. Other than being caught by Walter David, I can basically manage myself. For that matter, I can manage you too. I’m loyal as hell. I don’t fall apart easily. I can understand you, Zach, in a time when I would bet a wimpy partner wouldn’t. Something for you to ponder over dinner. Maybe you’d want to make the next few days more than running for our lives. I can make you feel good. We can attend to each other. Come on. You can help me pull the clothes out of the trunk.”

  His feet were glued to the ground. Sarah had propositioned him, and it hadn’t been at all as he’d imagined it. Ever. His heart spun, and sweat broke out on the back of his neck. Shit. She was really, so completely hot.

  “Ah. Okay. Right. Coming.”

  He chased her to the stairs. Would she never stop surprising him?

  Sarah loved the sound of a steel drum band. She expected a different kind of music, she usually loved listening to Salsa when she was in Miami. The seafood restaurant they had fallen into had a small group of musicians in the corner, and she let the music drift over her while she sipped her red wine. Zach had ordered water, which he causally sipped while he eyed her.

  They’d both finished their raw gulf oysters quickly and were waiting on the crab claws for their next course. For his part, Zach hadn’t uttered a word since they’d sat.

  “Have you slept since your abduction?”

  She took a deep breath. Somehow, her lack of sleep would be his fault. Zach seemed to take responsibility for things when they didn’t belong to him. Fortunately for him, she knew the feeling.

  “No.” She fingered the wine glass. “I think tonight will help. So will the music.” And maybe sex, if she could talk him into it. “Don’t start bemoaning my alert state. It’s called adrenaline. I wouldn’t have slept, even if you hadn’t gotten a migraine.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Let’s talk about how you got grabbed.”

  She’d rather talk about the sex idea. Although, she supposed his line of thinking made better sense.

  My name is Sarah Steele and I am apparently obsessed with having sex with my brother’s best friend. I’m in a 1980s romantic comedy movie complete with the music playing in the background.

  “After you and Adam died, and by the way, it’s totally strange to be discussing your death with, well, you.”

  Zach leaned forward. “Trust me. I get the weird.”

  “After you guys died, and we couldn’t retrieve any information from Uncle Sam, I thought I’d be able to gather some information the other families couldn’t. What good is security clearance if you can’t use it to find out why your world is suddenly emptier?”

  Zach furrowed his brow, yet didn’t speak. He was so handsome backlit by the setting sun visible through the windows. In another, fairer world, she could simply sit and watch him for a while, pretend she was a girl he’d asked out. One of Zach’s women, as Adam had once called them. Or as Ally—the lady he’d finally chosen—must have done.

  She and Zach were old friends, and maybe they’d be lovers, if she could pull his head off the job for a few hours. She’d never, however, be the girl he simply chose.

  And when she wasn’t suddenly feeling melancholy from coming off an ordeal, she wouldn’t care about not being the type of woman who sat admiring sunsets with hot men.

  Sarah forced herself to concentrate. “The most I could find, and it took a lot of digging, were two words, Operation Phoenix. Afterwards, it all dropped dead, nothing. No trail to follow.”

  He nodded before he took a sip of his water. “I bet.”

  “I basically gave up for a while. Work was busy.” She pulled at her sleeve, which itched her, or maybe her whole body found their conversation uncomfortable. “And I was grieving you guys. There were things to do, my parents did not take the death well. Neither did I, only helping them fixed me a bit. A few months ago, I went ahead and asked my handler if he could help. I didn’t expect much. A tiny drop of understanding maybe. He said he would. Then, I got taken. Four guys. Hoods, drugs. I kicked a little ass, although clearly not enough.”

  Zach drummed his fingers on the table. “Fuck, you were so set up. Your handler. Who is he? Where is he?”

  “He lived in New York City. When I wanted to see him, we had a signal.” Like out of a movie. She’d drop a red grocery bag into a particular garbage can, and the next morning, he’d be on a bench waiting. “His name is Thomas. We kept it first name, although he clearly knew more about me.”

  “We’re going to New York tomorrow. If I have to, I’ll stick a gun to his head and find some answers.”

  She figured as much. Who else could have set her up, except Thomas? Funny, he’d always looked so unassuming. Small, non-descript, glasses. Her own job was always done to perfection, he’d never had to deal with her other than an occasional meeting, and then—boom—sex slave kidnapping. She shook her head.

  I’m Sarah Steele. I am not lost to what happened to me. I’m in Miami, drinking red wine, listening to soft music, and wanting to give Zach a blowjob. Life is much better.

  “Right.”

  “Sarah.” Zach reached across the table. “Your color is changing. Despite the food, you’re getting paler by the moment. I asked you about sleep. You’ve been through hell. We’re in a great restaurant and sitting here, watching the light play on your hair? It’s the best thing to happen to me in three years. I think, however, it’s too soon for you. My suggestion is we take the food to go and eat in the motel room, so you can sleep.”

  “Hmm.” He made sense, and she hated how true his words were. “I don’t fall apart. I’m Sarah Steele. I keep it together when the rest of the world loses their collective minds. I didn’t cry once on the island. I’m not going to here.”

  He motioned for the waiter, and when the man came over, he asked for the check. Was Zach really not going to say anything about her statement? Suddenly, the music wasn’t so romantic, and the wine tasted bitter. She felt as though her skin might have become too tight on her body.

  After throwing a few bills on the table, he stood and walked to the waiter. Zach’s movements were always so precise. Nothing about how his body related to gravity had changed since the explosion. And how obsessed did it make her she knew such a detail about him?

  Dinner bagged and retrieved, he returned and extended his free ha
nd. “Come.”

  She stood, wrapping her fingers in his. “I only fall apart when I’m alone.”

  “Is the world going to end if you do it in front of someone else? You forget I’ve already seen you cry.”

  They walked hand in hand out of the restaurant, and she paused on the sidewalk as she digested his words. “When? You’ve never seen me cry.”

  “I think you were sixteen. Adam and I were home on leave. You had a date who stood you up. I remember it because after you went to bed, Adam and I went to the kid’s house, dragged his stoned ass out, and beat the shit out of him. Twice.” His mouth quirked as he remembered.

  “You two beat him up?” Was it possible for the world to actually spin off its axis?

  “Twice.” He nodded. “Come on.”

  How was it possible she didn’t know the roughing up happened? “I actually had sex with him years later in New York. He tried to be an actor. And I have no memory of you being there when I was crying. All these years, I thought I hid my tears.”

  “Hey, don’t tell me about your sex life. I absolutely don’t want to know. And I want to beat him again. If it makes me a Neanderthal, so fucking be it. The ass should never have gotten to touch you after hurting you. As for the tears, I may have caught you doing it for only a second without you knowing when you walked from your bedroom to the kitchen.”

  “Sneaky, I see. What can I say? I have a forgiving nature. Think of it as a revenge fuck. I walked away before he’d even woken.”

  Zach snorted and opened the car door. “Come on. I’m driving.”

  They rode to the motel in silence, and if she was a sulker, she’d probably give in to the urge. Any chance she’d had to see Zach between the sheets had flown out the window in the restaurant. The look in his eye? The way he had taken back control from her? Zach wasn’t going to see her as anything other than a victim he had to protect.

  After they arrived at the hotel, he checked the room once more before he let her inside. It was a sweet trait, although not necessary. With the gun tucked neatly in the back of her pants, she could easily get rid of anyone in the room as she did Walter David.

  Had it only been the day before when she’d shot him?

  “At least it makes sense why the guy you beat kept asking me if any of my family was around during the brief day we were together,” she spoke to fill the silence.

  “Seriously. No more about him. Unless you want me to Google him and reacquaint him with my fist.”

  He motioned for her to enter first. The buzz of the air conditioner in the window filled the room with a loud white noise, which would either keep her awake all night or help her sleep. She’d requested a king bed, hoping they’d be sharing it. Only since he’d already noted the beginning of her meltdown, she doubted he’d be interested.

  “Go shower. Ten minutes at least. More would be better.”

  Had Zach given her an order? “Do I smell?”

  “It’ll relax you. I have something to do, and then I’ll be back. I won’t be far, and I’ll be within range to eye the room.” He pointed his finger. “Don’t argue.”

  Well, okay. She walked toward the bathroom and heard him click the door shut. Zach had ordered her to the shower, and though he’d told her not to argue, she hadn’t intended to in the first place. What was her compliance about?

  She wasn’t submissive, or at least she’d never been before. The few times she played at her friend’s private dungeon in New York City, she’d practiced the dominant role. She had much to learn before she would ever call herself a master.

  Except she had a feeling if Zach wanted her to do almost anything, she would, and really because she wanted to make him happy, see his bright blue eyes gleaming with approval and kindness when he gazed at her.

  Those thoughts occupied her when she got in the shower and bathed herself under the hot stream.

  She’d managed to work in a good lather when the bathroom door opened, and she jumped backwards, nearly stumbling in the shower when she did. A strong hand reached out and steadied her. “Easy there. It’s only me. My fault. I should have knocked. I did tell you I would be eyeing the room. No one was getting in here.”

  “Did you need something?” She wiped the water out of her eyes. He’d busted in the bathroom. Had something happened?

  “Desperately.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it behind him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind. You can, you know. You can tell me tonight’s all too much, and you want me to leave you alone.

  Zach was built akin to some kind of Greek God. His abs were well defined and strong, his arms shaped as though he worked out regularly. When he’d been young, he’d been long and lean. The Marines made him stronger. He was pure muscle.

  Her mouth went dry. He’d come in the bathroom because he wanted her. Desperately.

  “I…” She wasn’t sure what to say. Instead, she launched herself at him, and he caught her in his strong embrace. She was soaked, and he was half dressed. Whatever, it all worked for her.

  His mouth met hers, and he kissed her, hard. His lips were unrelenting. He didn’t ease her in, wasn’t gentle.

  Zachery’s embrace was a claiming—the exact claim she’d been waiting for her whole life. Even if tomorrow she pretended she hadn’t been, if she was disconnected, acted as if tonight meant less than it did, she knew it right then. She was Zach’s girl. He’d always had her heart.

  5

  Zach should leave Sarah alone. She’d been through hell. The last thing she needed was him taking her up on an offer she made when she couldn’t be expected to make sane decisions. And yet…

  She’d told him she wanted him for a long time. He’d be lying if he pretended her words didn’t make him feel as if he could strut for the rest of his life or never come off from the cloud her words had put him on.

  The shower beat on their heads, and his cock strained against his zipper in his rapidly soaking pants.

  “Hold on.” The wetter they got, the worse it would be to remove them. He backed up a step, nearly tripping out of the shower when he did. Smooth, Zach, smooth.

  “One of us is going to topple over.” She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Won’t be you.” He finally got the rest of his pants off and discarded them to the side of the room. “I’d never let you fall, sweetheart.”

  She pulled him closer, and since he had his clothes off, he could appreciate the beauty of being in the shower with such a hot woman and the warm water on his back.

  He trailed kisses down her cheek toward her neck. Sarah smelled of cherries, and he wanted to bite her. When his teeth grazed her pulse point, he gave in to the urge. She sighed, and he forced himself to stay gentle.

  “Harder,” she whispered. “Sometimes I like the pain.”

  So his lady had some masochistic tendencies? Damn, it made him harder.

  “Sending you in here was an elaborate plan to make you wet and warm. Didn’t you catch on? I got some condoms from the front of the motel.”

  “Really?” Her eyes were huge. “I didn’t guess. My radar is really off. I’m not usually fooled. I thought you weren’t interested.”

  Zach shook his head. How could she possibly have thought he didn’t want her? “Sarah, you tell me you want me between your legs, and you think I’m going to say anything except ‘yes, please'?”

  “I could make you say please, Zach.” She kissed his chest, running her tongue around his nipple. “I could make you want to.”

  He lifted her by her bottom, taking them both out of the shower and back into the motel room. Somehow, he managed to grab a towel on his way out, which he quickly wrapped around her. Sarah’s statement required an answer, so he gave her the truth. “You could make me do about anything you want. For tonight, why don’t you let me take care of you?” Zach pinched her ass through the towel, and she shuddered. He had to double check. “Still like a little pain?”

  “As you see.”

  “Good.” He yanked back the to
wel. Zach had wanted her dry, although not being able to see her naked left him bereft. Fuck if he was going to deny himself anything when it came to Sarah.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Does that mean you’re a sadist?”

  He shook his head. “Not particularly. Let’s say I’ll get off giving you what you want. Eventually.”

  “Um.” She pressed her forehead to his. “Zach, usually I want to play. In private, anyway. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “Hmmm.” He kissed her nose. “I do, actually. Half-naked in bed isn’t the time or place for us to figure out what works for us, agreed? I’m going to make you feel good and then put you to bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough to figure out if we match in kink.”

  If she really needed to have sex in public, he’d find a way to go there, although it had never worked for him in the past. He’d tried to get into it when her brother dragged him in and out of the clubs years before. For Sarah, he’d give it another go if it was a must do.

  He laid her on the terrible bed, which would forever more be among his favorite locations in the world. She stared at him, running her hand across the side of his face. “I enjoy vanilla too, Zach. Being with you seems close to heaven for me. I never thought it would be you and me in an old hotel room getting sweaty. The stuff out of a fantasy.”

  He quieted her with a kiss. Her words did things to his equilibrium, and he couldn’t let it throw him. Her lips were soft, her skin hot, and her body—for the moment—all his.

  Zach ran his hand down the length of her until he reached her pussy. She shuddered when he pet her thighs, and it made his mouth go dry. How did he get this lucky? Sarah was strong, athletic, and her legs were those of a runner. He traced a circle around her pussy, but didn’t dive closer. Tormenting her for a moment was much more fun.

  The soft curls covering her pussy beckoned to him in the dimness of the lousy motel room. “I wish I could take you somewhere better. Make love to you on satin and roses.”