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Authors: Bec McMaster

Nobody's Hero (9 page)

BOOK: Nobody's Hero
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His mouth found hers, taking it roughly. Riley met it with a hunger she couldn’t hide. She felt like she was chasing something she'd never known before. Oh, she'd fucked herself to orgasm with her own fingers, but this was more. This was... being consumed. Being eaten alive by a force she couldn't control. And wanting more. Always more. Another long, slow slide as he withdrew, then thrust hard, driving her back against the wall.

“Yes,” she whispered, clinging to him.

He took her mouth, a punishing kiss that owned her. Each slow thrust of his hips was punctuated by the dart of his tongue. Wade kissed as if he made love to her entire body, as if the thrust of his hips were but one part of it, as if he couldn’t get enough. And she
burned
, writhing beneath his body, pinned to the wall with his exquisite strength.

Her teeth left white crescent-moon imprints on his shoulder as the heat inside her started to tighten, to push her closer to an edge she wanted to throw herself off. It was like rappelling, only this time, there were no ropes to break her fall, and the terror of that unknown leap only heightened all of the sensation.

Wade drank of her mouth, his hips thrusting urgently, as if he could sense it. His cock rode over something sensitive deep inside, and Riley shuddered.

It spiraled through her, as hot and sudden as an electrical storm, lightning strikes shattering across her nerves. She cried out, dug her teeth against the carved column of his throat, her fingers clenching in his. His hard body anchored hers, driving her against the cavern wall, forcing the storm to build within her until she was shuddering with an override of pleasure as she came. She could feel the tension in his arms, the way his body shook. Knew he was close.

Each thrust became hard, violent. His face buried against her throat, Wade came with a harsh exhalation, a soft cry. His hips flexed as if he sought to drag out the pleasure, his breath rasping over the sensitive skin of her throat.

The world stilled. All she could feel was the burning brand between her thighs where Wade’s hips were nestled, and the love-bruises on her skin. The silence of the cavern was punctuated by harsh gasps, and the steady drip of water from her hair.

Wade let her hands go, his own sliding under her ass. “Christ...” he whispered hoarsely. “Christ.”

Bit by bit, the world started to intrude. And with it, guilt.

As if he sensed it, could feel her body withdrawing from his, he looked up through passion-glazed eyes. “Just let me,” he murmured. “Just let me hold you for a minute.”

Then he curled his strong arms around her, sinking down into the water. The cold bit at her in places and Riley wilted in his arms, her wet hair strewn across his shoulder as she hesitantly rested her cheek on it. Her heart was pounding. Bad enough admitting that she was attracted to him – but a fuck was a fuck. This... It left her feeling extremely uncomfortable, as if she was letting in something that she hadn't agreed to.

Or maybe even wanting a little of it herself.

It was easier if Riley told herself just to enjoy the sensation, the aftermath of being deliciously taken. Slowly, she trailed her fingers down his arm, tracing a water droplet and marveling at the powerful strength of his body.

A body that held her with exquisite gentleness, his own hands stroking her lower back and spine. For a moment, she could almost forget who held her in his arms. A part of her yearned to stay there, to let him hold her like that forever. Someone who admired her strength, who not only let her help him but expected her to pick up a gun and watch his back. It was only there, in his arms, that he asked for softness, asked her to be his lover.

And she liked that feeling.

Riley stared at the water patterns, lulled into a hypnotic bliss by the stroke of his hands. They chased away the guilt, the doubts, and left in their wake one burning question.

Why did it have to be Wade?

Six

H
E KNEW
THE moment she withdrew from him.

Brushing at his hands, Riley swam backward, cold water chasing over his skin where her body had been nestled. Glancing down, her cheeks stained with pink, she started wading toward the shore.

The smooth line of her back lifted out of the water, then her hips, the pear-shaped curve of her ass. A woman’s body, sleek and lithe, with just enough softness to it for a man to admire. In another time, another place, where the rationing of food wasn’t as strictly controlled, she might have held a fuller, hourglass figure. A thought, swiftly detailed, flashed into his mind of taking her there. South. Letting her eat and drink to her heart’s content, whilst he pushed her down amongst the pillows and made love to her.

A fool’s dream.

Lucius looked away, slapping the water with his knuckles. From the stiffness in her shoulders, he knew regret was coming in to ride her hard. She’d fucked a monster. And from the bite mark on his shoulder, the soft cries she’d whimpered in his ear, she’d liked it.

“No regrets,” he said softly. “This was your choice, darlin’.”

He’d made sure of that.

A withering glance over her shoulder stirred his anger. Both careless and yet fully aware of her nudity, she wrung out her panties and wiggled into them, giving him another view of that full ass. One hand cupped her breasts as she fought with the wet cotton, trying to drag it up over her long legs with one hand.

“Christ,” he muttered. “It ain’t as if I haven’t seen it... or had my fucking mouth all over it.”

Heat blistered her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucius stalked forward, the water sluicing off his body. She glanced down then tore her gaze away, and his scowl darkened. His cock bobbed like a battering ram, barely sated. Years without a taste of female flesh, and it wanted more.

Hell,
he
wanted more.

But more than this.

Good enough to fuck once, but not good enough to mean anything to her. And that thought was a damn minefield.

You knew this couldn’t be.

You know you can’t have a woman
.

But the sudden yearning took him by surprise. Grief hit him like a punch to the throat, an emotion he thought he’d long since dealt with. He’d walked away from Abbie, from his family... from everything that had ever meant anything to him. He’d even put a gun in his mouth, and thought about pulling the trigger.

Eight years should have been long enough to come to terms with the choices he’d made. Taking the gun out, he’d changed his mind. He’d do it one day, he’d pledged, but he’d see McClain in Hell first. McClain, Colton and Cane.

Vengeance was all he had left to live for.

And then... what? He’d never thought about it before, but the thought was a sudden knife to the chest. Years of hunting for any sign of McClain, following whispers and rumors. Years of fending for himself, hunting alone. He’d gotten good at pretending he didn’t give a damn, but the human part of him – the man – longed for company.

And not just any company. He shot Riley a guarded look, horrified at the direction his thoughts were taking. One hit of human flesh and he was like a goddamn craver, strung out for the next hit. Wanting her to turn to him, to smile at him like she meant it, to stroke his face in a tender way. A need so strong it scraped him raw. Maybe this had been a mistake, for now he knew exactly what he was missing out on.

It wasn't just a dull memory anymore.

He choked the urge down ruthlessly. He had a job to do. There was no point even thinking about the future until McClain and the pair of wargs were dead, and no matter how much he liked her spirit, Riley wasn't going to be part of that future.

Riley dragged her shirt on – his shirt – and wrung the water out of her hair. The black cotton fell to mid-thigh, draping her lush curves in fabric. Lucius’s gaze ran down her. He could smell his own scent on her skin. Her throat was grazed from his teeth, and the rough stubble along his jaw. He couldn’t have marked her up any better. Some part of him had wanted his own brand on her.

A longing he’d best bury deep. It was time to focus his mind on the job in front of him. He’d thought it half-over, an ambush where he’d killed all of Cane’s men, then locked him and Colton inside a cabin. One flick of the match and the house had burned merrily. He’d even toasted a fucking rabbit in the coals. Got himself drunk-sick on the bottle of vodka he’d been saving for the occasion.

Obviously, they’d gotten out somehow. This time, he was going to put a bullet between their eyes, or better yet, take an axe and decapitate them both. Make sure they were dead.

But McClain first.

Riley glanced over her shoulder as if she sensed him watching her, her dark eyes shadowed and oblique. Lucius realized he was standing there naked, just staring at her. Like a desperate man.

Forcing a dark little smile onto his face, he snatched his jeans off the sandy floor and shook them out before slowly dragging them over his wet legs. The worn denim was butter-soft and fit him like a glove. Taking extra care with the buttons, he kicked her own jeans up into his hand and held them out for her.

“It’s the least I can do,” he said, with mock gentility. “Considering I was cock-deep in you a few minutes ago.”

She snatched the jeans out of his hands with a thin-lipped look. “You’re an asshole.” She dragged them on, fumbling them over her tanned thighs.

Time to shake out of this mood. He’d fucked her. Gotten what he wanted. That was enough. It had to be. Still, his gaze stayed with her, enjoying the sight of her naked skin for as long as he could before he shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

“No doubt.”

She wiggled the jeans over her hips and that was the end of it. No sign of their encounter, beyond the red marks at her throat and the aching echo of her teeth in the heavy muscle of his shoulder.

Knotting her long hair into a plait, she tied it off with a strand of cotton she picked from the sleeve of her shirt. Brown eyes met his. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“Your shirt’s gaping,” he told her, excuse enough. But the desire for human company –
her
company – lingered.
Pathetic son of a bitch
. He scraped a hand over his tired face. He obviously needed more sleep; the few hours he’d snatched were evidently not enough.

Riley made a growling sound in her throat and pushed past. “You breathe a word of this, and you’ll regret it.”

“Who am I goin’ to tell?”
The sad fucking truth
.

He followed her up the sandy passage, away from the pool and the play of memories.

The kid was awake, trying to drag himself into a sitting position with a wince. Bruises blackened both his eyes, and someone had broken his nose.

Lucius peered at him. “You look like a raccoon.”

The kid went red. Not a great look with his flaming hair. “Fuck you.”

A distant sound caught his attention. An engine. Lucius froze, the blood in his veins running ice-cold. Riley was bending over, trying to straighten the blankets, but she saw him still and her gaze lifted to his.

“What is it?”

He jerked the rifle into his hand and yanked a black cotton tank out of his bag. Tugging it over his head, he started for the mouth of the cavern. “I can hear cars. More than one.”

Riley gasped, then he heard her pumping the shotgun. “Jimmy, hold this,” she said. “I’ll get the binoculars.”

Lucius barely heard her, his gut trembling in anticipation. He eased against the mouth of the cave and peered out. A narrow dust cloud lined the plain below. Two jeeps heading straight for them. He jerked the rifle to his eye and peered through the sight, a frown dawning. Four men in each jeep, bristling with guns. But they were all human, and there was no sign of rust or gun turrets, like the vehicles he’d expected to see.

“They’re not reivers.”

“It’s McClain,” the kid said, just behind him.

Need swept through, white-hot and so vicious it almost blinded him.
McClain
. His hands clenched on the gun. Finally. So close he could almost smell the bastard.

Then his brain caught up.

Lucius turned. “How’d you–”

The butt of the shotgun smashed into his face. He went down hard, the right side of his face burning with pain. White light exploded in his head.
Need to move
... But he couldn’t. Struggled up onto one elbow.

“Rigged up the two-way radio I found in a crate,” the kid said, his voice sounding a million miles away. “Sent an SOS through to Absolution while you were gone.” He smiled through the white haze and lifted the gun again. “Now who looks like a raccoon?”

The shotgun smashed down again.

R
iley looked
up as Wade went down, her heart leaping into her throat. Jimmy lifted the gun again, smashing Wade in the face. His body jerked and lay still, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Jimmy,” she whispered, dropping the binoculars and racing to his side.

He lifted the gun again, a vicious look on his face. Riley didn’t think, just grabbed at it from behind. A quick knee to the back of his and she wrenched it from his hands, shoving him back against the cave wall as he fell.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked. A quick glance at Wade showed he still wasn’t moving. Lights out.

Black shadows marred his skin, and a cut tore through his brow. The devil looked remarkably vulnerable lying there like that.

Jimmy shoved himself to his feet, staring at her in surprise. “I got him, Riley. I got the warg.” Like he too couldn’t believe what he’d done.

“You idiot!” She darted to the mouth of the cave. “What about the Reivers?”

“They aren’t Reivers. It’s McClain.” Confidence puffed out his shoulders. “There’s an old radio in his supply store. I used it to SOS them when you two were fetching water and washing.” His mouth split into a grin, broken tooth still snarled. The movement made him wince. “We’re safe, Riley. We’ve got him.”

The jeeps sprayed to a halt, armored men pouring out of them. Riley looked down in dismay. What was she going to do? She’d made a mistake in the pool – a desperate, skin-hungry mistake – but she’d never meant for this to happen.

Wake up
. She nudged Wade with her foot, but he only groaned.

There was no way she could get him out of there, no way he could escape. Why’d the son of a bitch have to drop his guard now?

“Jimmy!” A commanding voice she knew too well.

Riley flinched and spun on her heel. McClain stopped in the mouth of the cavern, his broad shoulders framed by the endless blue sky. She saw him four times a year at the trading fairs. Heard his rough-as-gravel voice on the radio.

But the sight of him still took her breath away.

Six and a half feet of solid muscle, more heavily set than Wade. He wore a black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, revealing bronzed forearms sprinkled with golden hair. An ammo belt tugged tight over his chest, and a pair of faded old jeans hugged his thighs. The black felt of a ten-gallon hat was pulled down low over his eyes, but she knew he was staring at her. She could feel it on her skin. Underneath her skin. Itching.

“Riley.” His voice was husky. He looked down, raked the scene with a hard glance. Probably saw more than she did in that quick look. “Are you all right?”

“Course I am,” she managed to say.

He nodded then gestured to the men following him. “Tie him up, then shove him in the warg cage. I want the perimeter secure. Where’s Eden? Get her up here to check on ‘em.”

Eden was his sister, a healer. The one McClain Riley tended to get along with. She felt her shoulders droop in relief.

A slim young woman bounded up the narrow incline, dressed in a loose white shirt rolled to her elbows and a pair of jeans. She had the same dark brows and intense grey-green stare as McClain, but where her brother was all arrogance and command, Eden had a gentler nature.

Eden winced when she saw Jimmy’s face. “Well, don’t you look a sight?”

McClain grabbed her arm, turning her toward Riley. His whole posture was tense, voice hard. The pair of them shared a look. “Her first.”

“I’m fine.” Riley frowned. “The worst thing I have is blisters.”

McClain didn’t even bother to look at her. “Check her out,” he commanded, then turned and went to oversee Wade’s incarceration.

Eden stepped closer, and Riley went up on her tiptoes to see over her shoulder. One of the men grabbed Wade by the boot and started dragging him across the sand. His hands had been bound so tightly they were already going white.

“Oh, thank God!” Eden wrapped her arms around Riley and hugged her. “When you didn’t come home that night, your folks radioed Absolution. We’ve been out hunting ever since. Adam’s been unbearable.”

“That’s nothing new,” she grumbled. He hadn’t listened to her protests that she was fine, simply overrode her like he usually did. As if her opinion wasn’t as valid as his.

A faint smile tugged at Eden’s lips. “Come on,” she said, taking Riley by the hand. “Come sit and we’ll have a look at you.”

Easing her onto a rock in a strangely gentle way, Eden knelt in front of her.

Riley caught her hand. “Seriously, Eden. There’s nothing wrong with me that a good meal and a night’s rest won’t cure.”

“The boy said you’d been kidnapped.” A question flickered in her pretty eyes. “By a warg. We were out searching anyway, but as soon as Adam heard who the warg was, he insisted on racing here. I thought we were going to flip one of the jeeps.”

“It wasn’t... that bad.”

She could see that Eden didn’t believe her. The healer patted her knee as a grim little smile edged her lips. “It’s okay. Won’t be long, and we’ll be back at Absolution. You can rest up, take your time....”

“Absolution?” Riley frowned. “No. I want to go home. To Haven.”

The faintest of hesitations.

Riley grabbed Eden’s hand. “What is it?”

Eden shook her head. “When they heard you’d been taken, Peg and Jem radioed Adam. He said it wasn’t safe anymore. That they needed to come to Absolution where he could protect them—”

BOOK: Nobody's Hero
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