Hunger's Mate Page 12

  Yet with her, he wanted even more than her release, more than her pleasure. He wanted a part of her, something he could hold onto when he walked out of this room, something he could undoubtedly claim. Even though he shouldn’t. He couldn’t

  But in the next seconds she was mumbling, “No. No. Stop it.”

  She pushed at his shoulders until his lips jerked away from her heated flesh with a loud smacking noise. A second after the lost contact she was closing her thighs and rolling off the bed. Ezra was too stunned to stop her and too needy to protest. Lowering his head until his chin touched his chest he breathed in and out, in and out, slower and slower until he felt like he once again had control, over man and cat, the cat that desperately wanted to break free.

  “I can’t do it,” she whispered from the other side of her room.

  He was both relieved and surprised she hadn’t left, but then realized, where would she go? Paolo and another guard were standing right outside the door of her room. They wouldn’t let her out, not without Ezra’s consent. And he wasn’t consenting to a goddamned thing.

  “You can’t let me pleasure you but you can lie about your identity for three years,” he said, coming to a stand.

  His dick was so hard the tip throbbed painfully, his balls tight, ready to explode. He swallowed in his attempt at control, his dick aching even more, his fingers clenched at his sides. She’d pulled on a top that just barely covered her ass, and it was sheer. Because nothing about this night was going to go easily for him.

  “You don’t understand,” she said, pulling her arms up and crossing them over her chest.

  Ezra took a step closer to her, stopped and waited until the cat inside had ceased its incessant pacing, and then took another. “You have no idea what I’d understand.”

  “And you have no idea what I’ve been through,” she countered, shaking her head as she spoke.

  Her hair, her natural hair was curly, about two or three inches long, lying against her neck in soft waves. He wanted to run his finger along her hairline, to touch the part of her that was real. Just as he’d wanted her release so desperately, because that too, would have been real. And it would have been his, just as he was deathly afraid he wanted her to be.

  “We’ve all been through something, Jewel. That’s what life is about,” he told her, even though the things he and Eli had been through were enough to last a couple of lifetimes. Still, he believed what he’d just said, he’d told his brother the same thing each time he’d become overwhelmed by their past.

  Their present situation had escalated in the last few months. The reprieve the brothers had searched for in the jungle was doing exactly what the shaman predicted it would. It was wearing off. And if that was happening, then he was capable of that rage that had overtaken him before.

  Ezra was close enough to touch her now, even though he knew it was a mistake. He should be the one to walk out of this room. He should leave her alone and protect them both from what could possibly end badly. The last woman he’d felt these urges with he’d ended up killing, her blood dripping from his hands. He would never be able to live with himself if that happened again, if that happened with Jewel.

  Even with that logic beating against his skull like a drum, Ezra reached out to put his hands on her shoulders because he needed to feel her once more, and because he needed the other thoughts to disappear, at least for the moment. She stiffened instantly, moving forward as much as she could, being stopped by the dresser in front of her.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he told her, promising with every part of himself to keep his word.

  She tsked. “That’s what they all say.”

  He bristled at the words, his brow furrowed. “I’m not them, or him, or whoever messed with your head before.”

  “No. You’re one of them,” she tossed back. “One of Mr. Perry’s men who walk around here like you run the whole damned world. You ride in those SUVs, carry your guns, and call yourself a businessman. You’re no better than he is.”

  For a second Ezra thought she was telling him she knew he was a Shadow Shifter, or worse, that she knew he was a totally fucked-up Shadow Shifter. She’d seen that thing at the police station and she’d seen Jacques and Bas in their cat form and she’d been terrified. He’d protected her and then he’d gotten her the hell out of there, just like any man up against unnatural beasts would do for a female. He hadn’t shifted, although his cat had wanted to break free, to charge that beast and break its unholy neck. But he hadn’t. He’d gotten her to safety instead, he’d kept the secret. So her comparison had to be man versus man, he told himself with complete conviction.

  “I’m not like any other man you’ve ever met. And you,” he said, letting his hands rub down her arms, “are not like any female I’ve ever met.”

  “You don’t know me,” she told him again. “You don’t know why I did what I did.”

  At this moment Ezra simply did not care. Her scent was intoxicating, her arousal calling to him on a primal level that had his teeth clenching. Yes, he knew that her real name was Dawn Montgomery and that she was being accused of stealing from someone—someone very powerful he presumed, to have bought off the police department and convinced them to hold her at their precinct until he arrived. ADAM was supposed to guard her, to keep her protected until the man arrived. But Ezra had gotten there first. He’d taken what was his and now he’d sacrifice his life to keep her safe.

  Tonight, at this very moment, he was not only ignoring that dark part of him that promised retribution, but he’d also give up the true confessions session in exchange for making her his, for taking what he found he needed more than he needed to breathe.

  Pushing the shirt up he had one hand over her breast and the other between her legs before she could open her mouth to speak. There was a mirror over the dresser. He hadn’t paid much attention to it until this very moment, when he looked straight ahead to see her staring back at him. Her eyes were glazed with lust, tinged with denial. Her mouth, open to protest, was silenced by the pleasure he knew was spearing through her as his fingers slipped effortlessly through her still-damp folds, until his thumb rested on the hardened bud of her clit, his finger moving deep inside her center.

  She gasped, her eyes never closing, never cutting their contact. He loved the look of his darker-complexioned skin over the lighter, smoother contours of hers. The way his palm splayed over her breast as the other hand disappeared between her legs. “Open for me, let me touch that precious jewel you have inside,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I can’t,” she whimpered, her thighs shaking.

  “You will,” he insisted, using his strength to push her legs open wider.

  She gasped as he slipped another finger inside, dipping them both deep, pulling them out and then repeating until the sound of her moistness echoed throughout the room, and the scent of her pleasure permeated the air.

  “You will surrender to me, Jewel. You will give me all that you are,” he told her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give her the same.

  She shook her head, still whispering, “No,” as he continued to work her, to push her to the brink.

  “You want me to stop?” he asked, lowering his head to nip along the line of her shoulder. Please say no, because he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull back from this desire coursing through him.

  When his tongue touched her soft, smooth skin, his heart beat faster with a thought. He could bite her there. He loved the sensation, the pinprick of pain, the jolt of awareness, and then came the pleasure. The memory was as clear as day, the heady sensation of pleasure that soared through his body whenever he would bite, then lick, then savor. He hadn’t in so long, his heart thumped wildly with the thought.

  His fingers moved in and out of her, faster and faster while she struggled to catch her breath. All he could think about was the pleasure, the intense flush that would soar through his body and take over his mind. She was so wet, her essence dripping down his fingers, past his wrist. His other h
and cupped her breast harder and harder, until his mouth watered to take that turgid nipple into his mouth. His dick was so hard it pressed against the zipper of his pants, painfully, persistently.

  “Tell me you want me to stop,” he begged her. “Tell me to get the hell out and never come back. Tell me, dammit! Tell me!”

  “Yes!” she screamed in return. “Oh god yes, yes, yes!”

  Her words died as she moaned, her body convulsing as her release wracked her entire body. She trembled in his arms, her pleasure pouring out over his hand, her head lolling back against his shoulder. Ezra opened his eyes then, he looked up to the mirror, to see his hand still between her legs, his palm still cupping her breast and the eyes of his cat glowing, adamantly, knowingly.

  Chapter 11

  “What the fuck? Now both of them are gone? How did you idiots mess this up?” Lawrence Crowe yelled, slamming both fists down on the table while glaring at the man in the rumpled police uniform toying with his broken glasses.

  “It was an ambush,” he stuttered. “They came in hot with big-ass guns and shit. How was I supposed to keep them off? You took everybody else out of the building, remember?”

  “I left you with ADAM and now he’s gone too! You dumb fuck!” Crowe cursed after smacking Mahoney across the back of his head.

  The police sergeant stumbled forward, turning back to look at Lawrence like he might actually swing on him. The toupee he wore was now crooked, hanging slightly to the left, revealing the totality of his baldness.

  “You left us out in the open and you knew someone would come for her!” Mahoney countered. “I didn’t sign up for a fucking suicide mission!”

  “He’s got a point there.” The tall gangly man that had been more than a pain in Crowe’s ass these last couple of hours added his two cents.

  “First, you shut the hell up!” he said, pointing at the wannabe soldier. Pierson’s son, Sidney, was a coke-snorting slime ball who was assigned to be his father’s eyes and ears but was more like a sniveling leech. Still, Crowe would much rather have this easily controlled idiot tagging along than the steely suspicious gaze of Pierson himself.

  “Second, you had a gun and ADAM!” He continued his tirade, turning on Mahoney once more. He cursed as he walked through the police station, kicking the broken furniture out of his way.

  Two hours ago he’d been on his way to this very location, giddy with the excitement of seeing her again, of being able to touch her one more time. It wouldn’t take long, what he wanted to do to his precious Dawn. No, it wouldn’t take long at all, to give her exactly what she deserved. He wasn’t normally a man to obsess over anything, but in these last few years, the Genesis Project and this female had driven him almost to the point of madness. Maybe because he’d never been unable to achieve his goals before.

  All the accolades the military had bestowed upon him had added up to a bunch of nothing. He would retire a broke man if it were up to those bureaucratic bastards. So he’d decided long ago that if things were going to go his way he’d have to make it so. He was so close now, the diamonds as his safety net, but the Genesis Project was his big payday. They had offers on the table if a successful prototype could be produced. There was money and the woman that belonged to him on the line.

  And damn if he was going to let anyone screw it up!

  The chirping of his cell phone was both annoying and disruptive. He needed his team—the ones who had arrived in the state-issued police vehicles, but weren’t actual police—to finish searching the debris for clues and then give him a line on where his two prized possessions had been taken and by whom.

  “I’m at his apartment, waiting,” the female voice replied the moment he answered.

  “Good. As soon as you get the name, go get the person with that DNA and get your ass back here,” he snapped, holding the phone so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t break the damned thing.

  “Are you sure this is the only way?” she asked. “This guy’s pretty creepy.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, creepy? He’s not a prospect for marriage or some other crazy shit! He’s a mission. One that you’ve been assigned and one that I’m expecting you to complete, simple as that!” Crowe yelled once more, his temples throbbing with every word. He did not have time for bullshit right now and going on and on with Lilah about some idiot lab assistant was complete nonsense. For a minute, Larry wondered why he’d ever trusted the simpleminded girl with this task.

  “I’m just asking, Larry. How far do you really want me to go for this mission?”

  The girl was easy on the eyes and adequate in bed, even though following instructions wasn’t her strong suit. He’d missed that easy submissiveness, the smooth control that aroused him to no end in the bedroom. She’d followed his every command. Still, she owed him, so she was going to pay until he thought the debt was fulfilled.

  “This arrangement I’ve extended to you can always be terminated. Think about that while you try to figure out how far you should go to do what I asked,” he told her in a clipped tone before disconnecting the call.

  Standing with his back to another two that he felt like killing, Crowe closed his eyes to the pounding at the base of his skull, the hardening of his dick as he thought about fucking one female and strangling another. When had his life taken this drastic turn? Twenty plus years in the Marine Corps, day after day of dodging death, breaking necks, shooting insurgents, women, children, killing because he was ordered to and now because he was being paid to. His body was filled with rage, consumed and eased only by the warmth of a pliant and agreeable female. Only by Dawn.

  “He told me his name,” Mahoney’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “What?” Crowe asked, not bothering to turn around to approach the man he’d paid a shitload of money to help him secure what he so desperately needed.

  “Sebastian Perry from Perryville Resorts,” Mahoney continued. “Some fancy-pants rich dude who said he’d hired a lawyer for the girl.”

  “A lawyer for a slut,” Pierson snorted. “That’s funny.”

  Crowe had turned and was across the room in seconds, his big strong hands wrapping around the scrawny bastard’s neck before he could mutter another word.

  “Shut up or die! Take your choice!” he said, spittle flying into Pierson’s face as he spoke, his entire body shaking with anger. Nobody talked about Dawn that way. Whatever he did or said to her was because she owed him, she belonged to him. He wouldn’t stand for disrespect from anybody else, especially not this sniveling asshole.

  Adrenaline pumped wildly through his veins as the man’s face paled, his mouth gaped open, but no sound was released. He’d lifted him off the floor when he grabbed him and his feet kicked at the air. In another second, give or take, he would be dead. Still, lifeless, quiet, thank the stars. What then? Death wasn’t new to Crowe. It wasn’t bothersome or depressing. It was a part of life, he figured, and would take place whether he helped it along or not.

  When Pierson’s dull brown eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets, Crowe released him. Deciding not to help Pierson’s demise along, not today anyway.

  “You!” he yelled toward Mahoney, who wisely hadn’t moved a muscle to help Pierson, even with a gun still holstered at his hip. “Get the vehicles ready. We’re going to pay Perry a visit. And if the silky-smooth bastard doesn’t give back what belongs to me then he’ll regret the second he walked into this building. They’ll all fucking regret it!”

  * * *

  “What’s going on out there?” Eli asked.

  “What are you doing up this time of night? Is something going on out there? Is Shya all right?” Ezra countered his brother’s question, sitting up on the couch he’d been uncomfortably sleeping on in the sitting area of Jewel’s room.

  Shya Delgado was the four-month-old daughter of Nick and Ary Delgado—one of Rome’s Lead Enforcers and his wife, the curandera. She’d been sick since her birth and just before Ezra had left Havenway, she’d been taking a tur
n for the worse. His heart rate slowed as he held his breath, waiting for his twin’s reply.

  “She’s the same. Papplin’s still trying to figure it out but he’s coming up blank. I overheard him on the phone with someone he called DiLaurent, asking him about the blood sample he’d sent to him at Washington Hospital. Nick’s about ready to kill somebody and poor Ary, she can’t even concentrate to work on any of her research. It’s getting pretty bad here,” Eli said with a heavy sigh. “But that’s not why I’m calling. Something happened out there and I want to know what it is,” he continued adamantly.

  Ezra should have known he’d call. He should have actually called him first to head off this conversation. But he’d been caught up in other matters tonight, caught up in someone else.

  Rubbing a hand down his face, his elbows resting on his knees, he took a deep breath and released it. Then he told his brother about ADAM. He did not tell him about Jewel.

  “Fucking hell!” Eli cursed, keeping his voice down low.

  His twin was probably in the room he occupied at Havenway, which was steel-lined and just about soundproof. That and the fact that it was the middle of the night in Alexandria, all but ensured he wouldn’t be overheard. Still, Eli had been speaking in hushed tones.

  “You got training ops this morning?” Ezra asked, once again changing the subject because he suspected there was much more to this call than Eli’s suspicions.

  “Nah,” his brother replied. “Couldn’t sleep, felt like something was wrong.”