Passion Awakened (11 page)

“Yeah. So far so good.” He glanced between her and Thomas.
“I think that’s a good sign.”

“Possibly,” her grandfather said.

Shayla let out sigh of relief, stood, and moved over to the
bedroom window. The sun had fully set, and the parking lot lights were in full
power, their yellow haze reflecting off the metallic roofs of the cars. The
buzz of twin motorcycle engines whipping into two of the available spaces
nabbed her attention. In matching black leather, the riders dismounted their
machines, the bikes an eyeful of shiny chrome and polished black. Sleek. Fast.
Futuristic.

Futuristic.

Her heart stuttered.

“Umm…Creed?”

“Yeah.”

She spun on her heels, the jittery tingles of adrenaline
already awakening every muscle fiber in her body. “What would an enforcer
locator team look like?”

“Why?” Creed launched from the mattress and to the window.
“Fuck!” he chewed out through his teeth and whirled. Shayla headed for the
door.

“We need to—”

Shayla twisted around, the sudden death of his sentence
seizing her forward momentum. “Creed?”

Out of the corner of her eye, her grandfather lunged to his
feet. Creed stood fixed, his mouth open, arm lifted, and his gaze trained on
the hard tremors racking the extremity.

“Creed,” Thomas called out, rounding the bed. “Creed. Focus
on me.” The younger man’s eyes flicked to Thomas right before the shaking
advanced to his whole body.

“Oh my God. Creed!” This couldn’t be happening.
Oh God.
Please. No.

He was going down. Thomas caught Creed under the arms before
he hit the floor and hauled him backward until Creed’s calves hit the bed. By
that time, Creed was in a full-blown seizure. Thomas somehow twisted his rigid
torso onto the bed, and Shayla grabbed Creed’s legs, placing them onto the
bottom half of the mattress. Creed’s spine arched, his arms and legs jerking
spasmodically. Shayla’s gut lurched.

Don’t die on me. Don’t you dare die on me.

“Granddad, what can we do?”

Thomas didn’t act as if he’d heard her. Instead, he rolled
Creed onto his side and checked for continued signs of respiration. The
convulsions were slowing. Thank God.

“How’s he doing?”

This time, he did respond. “He’s still breathing. But as far
as anything else, it’s hard to tell until he wakes up.” Thomas glanced up. “If
he wakes up.”

“He will,” Shayla said, the sound of her voice gruff. “But
until then, we have to deal with the enforcers.” She spun, searching the room
for some kind of weapon.
Creed’s bag.
Maybe he had something in there.

Shayla darted to the other room, yanked his backpack from
the chair, and ran back into the bedroom. She tossed it on the bed in front of
her grandfather.

“Look in there and please tell me if you recognize anything
we can use to stop them. Anything that will slow them down and give us time to
get away and for that locator to shut down.”

Thomas grabbed the bag and dumped out its contents. He
thumbed through a couple of the items then plucked what looked like a black
glove from the pile. “Here,” he said and tossed her the black article. “That
will do the trick.”

She studied the thin material. On closer observation, it had
a fine mesh embedded with little fibers, and a small square of denser cloth
where the glove extended onto the wrist. “What will this do?”

“You touch them with that, and it’ll knock them off their
feet. They’ll never know you were even there.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t like this one bit, but you’re going to have to
handle them while I keep an eye on Creed.” He straightened, giving Shayla his
full attention. “They’re not here for you, will never suspect you, and will do
everything possible not to interact with you in this timeline.” Her grandfather
shuffled closer. “You can do this.”

Shayla slipped the glove on to her right hand. Though a bit
large, she would make it work.

“Press here,” Thomas said, indicating the thicker material.
“This will activate it. Then all you have to do is touch another person with
your gloved hand, and it’ll scramble their brain waves.”

She sucked in a calming breath and flexed her fingers. The
material, though thin, felt like a ton of bricks weighing her arm down.

“Once they’re out cold, get back here, and together we’ll
get you both to your car. You’ll need to keep moving until you’re sure his
locator is history.”

She nodded. Keep moving. They just had to keep moving until
they were sure.

With both hands shoved in the pocket of her jeans, Shayla
left the condo and headed toward the elevator. The moment the doors came in to
view, the bell rang. Her pulse galloped and her thighs trembled.
Stay calm.
Act natural, she coached herself.

The metal parted, and two leather-clad men exited, one with
his head down studying a device that reminded her of a smartphone. They brushed
past her as if she didn’t exist. Exactly what her grandfather said they would
do.

Excellent.

Bad move on their part.

Shayla pulled her hands free and pressed the spot Thomas had
shown her on the glove. A slight tingle ran up her arm. She choked back a
surprised gasp. It didn’t hurt, but it did tell her the thing was alive.

Before she could chicken out and they got too far away,
Shayla spun and shoved her hand between the shoulder blades of the guy on her
left. His knees buckled, and he slumped to the green-carpeted concrete.

Oh shit!

The taller guy to her right belted out a curse as well and
whirled around, his arm outstretched, aiming straight for her head. Reflex
kicked in and she grabbed his wrist in midair with her gloved hand. He jerked,
and she coughed out a shocked breath, holding on to the big guy until he
crumpled at her feet.

“Oh my God.” She backpedaled, surveying the carnage. “Oh my
God.” Shayla dodged the mass of arms and legs and hustled down the hall. She’d
done it. She’d frigging took them out.

Creed.

She had to get to Creed while there was still time.

Chapter Nine

What the hell was the roar in his ears?

Creed lifted one eyelid, searching for anything that would
give him a clue to his location and the source of the damn noise. A flash of
lights zoomed past the windowpane and knocked a groan from his throat.

“Creed?”

Gravity and a few Gs lurched him to one side, then he flung
forward, but the belt stretched across his chest snapped him back. He reached
up and loosened the strap from the side of his neck.
A car?
Where was he
going?

“Oh thank you, God!”

“Shayla?” he croaked, then rolled his head to the side and
dragged both eyelids open.

“Yes!” the high-pitched excitement in her voice had him
recoiling and his ears rebelling.

“Whoa…what’s going on?” Creed stared past her through the
window. Cars buzzed past in the distance. He shifted and took in the rest of
the scenery. A rest area on the interstate? “What are we doing here?”

She twisted in her seat and grabbed his hand. “What do you
remember?”

Good question.

He closed his eyes once more and searched his memory.
Thomas.
They had been at Thomas’, except he hadn’t been the same youthful Thomas he’d
known. Thomas agreed to use nanites to destroy the locator in Creed’s chest.
Shayla had been at his side while her grandfather injected him. He’d been fine.
Nothing out of the usual. Until…until.

“Oh shit!” He lunged forward and swung his gaze to Shayla.
“A retrieval team was there.” The heavy thud of his heart pounded against his
chest. “How did…? What did…?” A wave of dizziness assaulted him and his stomach
roiled. Creed gripped the door to stop the rough seas inside his head and gut.

“We can get into that later. I’m just so happy that you’re
awake. You’re here. Talking.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you
had a seizure, and we didn’t know…” Shayla yanked him to her and seized his
mouth, her kiss heated, claiming, as if reassuring her heart and mind he was
alive and hers. Creed responded, tasting the seam of her mouth, then diving
inside for a deeper sample of the sweet flavor that was uniquely Shayla. His
groin stirred.

Yeah.

He was all hers.

She pulled back and stroked her fingers through his hair.
“Tell me. How do you feel? What do you feel?”

Creed blinked, his mind assessing his legs, arms, and…

“It’s gone.” He slapped a hand to his chest. Shayla pushed
back, giving him a “for real” stare. Creed couldn’t help the stupid grin he
knew formed on his face. “The locator. The vibration has stopped. He did it.”
Creed drew Shayla into his arms. “Your grandfather fucking did it!”

A sob escaped at his ear. “You’re free.”

“Yes.” He took a long, deep, satisfying breath. “I’m free.”

Shayla wrenched herself from his hold. “Let me get us out of
here and find a place where we can stop for the rest of the night.”

He hadn’t missed the implication in her words. “That sounds
like an excellent plan.”

She popped the truck in gear and burned out of their parking
space. “I had no idea where I was going,” she said. “I just knew I had to keep
moving and get you as far away as possible.” She released a puff of air,
blowing the hair from her eyes. “I’ve been driving and driving for the last few
hours, praying for a sign.” Shayla glanced his way and smiled. “You have no
idea how good it is to see those blue eyes again.”

Dragging a palm over his face, Creed sighed. He had an idea.
Because seeing her smiling back at him, knowing he wouldn’t be forced to let
her go was…surreal.

A few miles down the highway, Shayla exited and took the
next right leading them to a multilevel hotel illuminated by what had to be a
stadium of lights.

Inside, she checked them in under her name, and they rode
the elevator to the fifth floor.

The nanites were incredible. It hadn’t taken long for Creed
to get his bearings back. He’d awakened drowsy, disoriented and dizzy, but by
the time they’d reached their room, Creed’s strength had returned. In fact, he
was feeling better than ever, and watching the curves of the woman in front of
him rock back and forth as she moved was driving him insane.

She toed her shoes off, rotated, then collapsed onto the
bed, propping herself on her splayed hands behind her. Blood surged to his cock
at the enticing display.

“What are you leering at, Mr. Donovan?” Shayla lowered her
lashes with a half smile. One that said,
I don’t bite. Most of the time.

Creed sauntered the few feet that closed the distance
between them. “You, Ms. Murphy.” With his knee, he parted her legs a little
farther and moved into the center. Shayla came forward, her gaze settling at
the bulge behind the black leather of his pants.

“Something tells me you like what you see, and you’re
feeling a lot better.” She peeked up, one brow arched.

“That I most definitely do, on all counts.”

Shayla reached over and tugged down the zipper to his fly.
His cock burst through the narrow opening. Creed freed the button holding the
waistband, and before his next breath entered his lungs, Shayla had her hands
wrapped around his length and her lips surrounding the flared head.

“Oh fuck!” He hissed. None of his training in the
twenty-seventh century had prepared him for the mind-bending effects of a
woman’s mouth on his cock—Shayla engulfing his erection. He’d endured multiple
time warps, physical combat, but the act of watching her go down on him had the
power to take him to his knees. He ground his teeth under the pleasure
streaking up his shaft and into his balls. “Too much, too fast.” Creed jolted
back. “I want to be inside you when I come.”

“God, I want that too.”

They took their time undressing each other, exploring,
tasting, relishing in their newfound freedom in each other’s arms. The
withdrawal from Sustain had cooled, but not his passion for Shayla. A
never-ending burn lingered deep inside for her, one he didn’t think would ever
be quenched no matter how often they came together.

And when he sank over her and into her tight sheath, nothing
in his life had ever felt more right. She was made for him. Shayla may have
been born six hundred years in the past, but it didn’t matter, there union had
been destiny. There was no doubt in his mind.

He pumped into her, faster and faster, climbing the sheer
face of the cliff called nirvana. So damn good. Shayla wrapped her legs around
his waist, meeting his every thrust.

“Creed…” she gasped.

“Come with me,” he commanded. “Christ, Shay. I want to feel
you milking me when I come.”

“Oh God. Creed!” As if his words had triggered Shayla’s
release, her body trembled around him, and her head fell back onto the pillow.
The walls of her core clamped on to his cock, destroying the last barrier to
his orgasm.

“Shay!” he cried out as jets of cum exploded from the end of
his cock. Creed closed his eyes under the intense pleasure, pistoning his hips
into her heat. Colors burst behind his eyelids. Never in his life had he wanted
to leave his mark so desperately on another soul. She was his, and he wanted
every other man to recognize to whom she belonged. The mere thought of how
close he’d come to losing her was like a noose around his heart, constricting
its ability to beat.

Settling back down to earth, Creed lifted Shayla’s chin,
bringing their gazes together. “I love you so much. More than I ever thought
possible.”

Shayla’s eyes welled, and she touched the side of his face.
“I love you too.” Creed rolled onto his side, facing her. “I’ve learned so much
about myself from you. I’ve done things I never thought I was capable of
doing.” She laughed.

“Like what?” He smiled and tucked her hair once more behind
her ear.

“Like zap a pair of enforcers from the future with one
hand.” She grinned.

“Holy shit.” Creed rolled his eyes. “Did Thomas send you out
there against those two with my neural silencer?”

“If that’s what you call that cool black glove. That thing
is awesome, and he truly was the best person to stay behind to make sure you
continued breathing.” Shayla raked his features. “I couldn’t bear the thought
of losing you. I never thought a man like you even existed. After what I went
through with Maddie’s father. The cheating and the lies. My self-esteem
plummeted.” She shook her head. “You taught me to trust again. To believe in
myself, and that I had something to offer.” Shayla reached out and gently
placed her palm to his bare chest. “You were ready to die for me—for us. How
often does a woman find a man who is willing to give everything, including his
life?”

Creed covered her hand with his. “And I would do it again.”

“You’re a good man, Donovan. I can’t wait for you to meet
Maddie.” Shayla leaned in and traced his lips with hers. “She’s going to love
you just as much as I do.”

“I’m sure I’ll love her as well. I can’t imagine otherwise.
She’s a part of you.”

“Can you believe it…” Shayla rolled to her back on a squeal,
her face beaming. “Tomorrow, you can come home with me.”

The ache in his chest at her words had nothing to do with
his century or his recent run-in with nanites. This particular sensation he’d
never wish eradicated. It felt too good. Creed flipped to his back, matching
her move and stared at the flicker of streetlights across the painted ceiling.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Tomorrow, you and I can truly begin.”
His hand found hers lying between them, and he laced their fingers. “And the
future is all ours.”