The Protector (14 page)

“Look at me,” he ordered. Obediently, she did so, her blank gaze strangely contrasting with the woman he knew her to be. “Are you going to obey me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to let me do anything to you?”

“Yes.”

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

She was definitely ready. “You’ll answer my questions truthfully and quickly and when I say the word ‘come’ you will have no memory of our conversation.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about the deal that your brother is offering Dragan Dilaver. Tell me the terms.”

He listened and kept a close eye on Alissa’s irises and breathing as she answered slowly, unhesitatingly, just as he had programmed her mind. All the while, he kept his slick fingers moving between her legs. Her body was still responding to stimulation and he was careful to slow down when her breathing quickened too rapidly.

“Continue if you want more of this, Alissa,” he told her. “Say yes if you want more.”

“Yes,” she said and gave him the information he sought.

As soon as the telltale flicker of awareness warned that
the drug was losing hold, Stefan put pressure on one slippery finger and softly ordered, “Come.”

Alissa’s eyes immediately widened, her mind and body taking the command literally. She keened feverishly as her orgasm slammed into her, her drug-frozen muscles straining against the invisible strength of the pink pill. The irises of her eyes were abnormally large still as she panted weakly for him to stop.

“But you don’t mean that, do you?” Stefan asked as he unchained her. Her arms dangled uselessly as she lay there waiting for his next assault. “You know you want this.”

“Oh yes, I want it.” Her voice was hoarse and needy. “I…can’t get…enough.”

Stefan carried her back into the room and put her wet body on top of the divan near the bed, another sexual toy. He had her screaming incoherently for a good while, till her limbs began to move, and to make a point, he showed her two more pills in his hand.

“Take them,” he said. “And I’ll show you why my cock is perfect.”

This time she didn’t even pretend to say no. She just laughed and licked the pills off his palms, spreading her legs for him as she lay back.

“I don’t even care about the present you promised,” she whispered. “Give me, give me, give me…that!”

She watched as Stefan put on a condom, hissing with delight as he poured oil over his huge erection. He let her fondle him till her hands stopped moving.

She sighed as he climbed on top and started to slow-fuck her. Ten strokes, long and satisfyingly hard, with her saying yes to all his sexy suggestions of different ways he was going to fuck her. Her eyes turned glassy even as she agreed to be obedient.

“Good girl,” he whispered back. “Now, say yes to my commands.”

“Yes.”

His control had always been phenomenal. He didn’t pre
tend that he didn’t enjoy the sex. It was dangerous sex, and therein lay the excitement, the sexual stimulation, that he needed. To find that magic button that would get him to perform under these circumstances, he had to ruthlessly take advantage of his own sexual urges and use them so he would win this battle.

His body was rigid from his own need for release. He was a man, after all, and the need to let go was certainly reminding him of that fact. Control. Absolute control. He pulled out.

His erection strained against his stomach and it would be so easy to…Bending over, he positioned her to give her the most pleasure. He looked down at himself and gave a self-mocking shake of his head. First, he needed some information for some ladies. He didn’t think he would need to give her another dose for tonight. Release was near, he promised.

“You will answer my questions truthfully and quickly, as best as you know and when I say the word ‘come’ you will have no memory of our conversation. Then you will only remember all the pleasure I gave you and will think of pleasuring me, and nothing else. And I want to be pleasured well, Alissa.”

When the session was through Alissa’s intense screams of pleasure filled the room.

There was nothing wrong with acting like a fool once
in a while. It was what a man was good at, anyway.
Maman always said that to him whenever he apologized for some silly stuff he had done.
Just remember to apologize to the lady and never take one’s frustration out on her
, Grandpa Gator always urged when he pushed Jazz or his brother back home, where they had to set things right with the indignant women. Of course, while he was thinking about all the best advice his big family had bestowed on him about being a man and treating a woman right, he might as well throw in the line from his only brother.
BYTM, bro. Better you than me.

Jazz supposed he had done it all today. He had been foolish, following Vivi to the restaurant. But Hawk had disappeared about the same time, too, and, damn it, he wasn’t going to have a good time being alone and thinking they had a secret rendezvous somewhere. Instead, he had found Vivi with her girlfriend.

And worse than being foolish, he was a fool to take advantage of the situation and interrupt her lunch, joining her when he hadn’t actually been invited. In battle, impulse could kill a soldier. He rubbed his nose in self-disgust. In romance, too. All he had done was make a fool of himself and then commit
the crime Grandpa Gator warned him against—vent his frustration. So apologies were now in order.

His restless gaze settled on the woman crossing the road. There was no doubt in his mind that he could communicate with Miss Vivienne Verreau in bed. That kiss they had shared just now fairly set his socks on fire. She had kissed him back, a little hesitatingly, as if she weren’t comfortable with people watching. Well, all he needed was a private place. He could communicate with all the bayou charm in his genes. But where would he find any privacy here and now?

He could hear his brother laughing his ass off in his head. Zippy never apologized about anything; he always said that was what older brothers were for. Besides, as one of his sisters wryly pointed out, who would believe that any apology from two boys named Zola and Zippy Zeringue, with their devilish blue eyes, would be sincere?

“You’re the most obstinate man I’ve ever met,” Vivi remarked, stopping in front of him. “Don’t you give up?”

“My favorite city is below sea level and its inhabitants are obstinate fools,” Jazz said.

“Sort of predisposed to be in special forces, I guess?” She unlocked the passenger door. “Think you can go and live underground, and then strike in the dark.”

He took her action as invitation to join her for a ride and slipped into the vehicle before she changed her mind. “You’re mixing things up about my city. That’s a vampire, not special forces,” he told her, amused. He showed her his teeth. “See? No fangs. And it’s daylight.”

“I suspect your bark is worse than your bite,” Vivi said dryly as she started the car up.

“Are you accusing me of being soft?” Jazz threw up his hands in mock horror. “Don’t let my men hear you say that.”

She smiled. “You’re a softie, Jazz. You can’t bear to hurt a woman’s feelings, and you can’t bear to see women get hurt.
Why, you even waited out here in the heat because you felt bad about leaving me in the restaurant.”

“It’s true. And I wanted to apologize,
chouchou
. That was very rude.”

She sighed, turning the AC on higher. “You make it so damn hard. You weren’t rude, Jazz. I was.”

He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I have to be rude back. Besides, I’m sort of lost, after following you around.”

Vivi laughed. “As if. Soldier, you don’t lie well, either.”

He grinned. “I’m not totally lost, but…you did go all over the town, Vivi. For a while I thought you were trying to shake me off.”

She had really traveled all over the place before going to the restaurant, going through the red light district and slowing down. He had thought she was trying to lure him out in a place where he would be easily spotted but he had been trained to go unseen in the most unlikely of places. He was pretty confident she hadn’t known he was following her. He had merely watched her as she meandered through that part of town, slowing and peering at some of the places. He suspected it had to do with her job, since the location, with its seedy storefronts, wasn’t advertising anything that he thought would interest a woman.

She glanced at him briefly, then back at the traffic. “What are you doing out, anyway? I thought you guys always stay together, get your minds set for the job ahead, and all that?”

She was right. Once the Patrol Order was given, focus on the mission was number one. “Hawk gave us fifteen hours.”

“To do what, if I may ask? I can’t see you boys shopping,” she mocked lightly.

Sometimes, when there were two operations close together like this, the men were given some time to “move on,” so to speak. The last one, with the child bandits, had left a particularly bitter taste, and the men had looked forward to some down time before this second mission unexpectedly came up. No one had complained; it was the nature of their chosen profession.

“We just came out of one intense situation,” Jazz said, keeping his explanation brief and simple. “You take your head out of one fight and put yourself in another. Sometimes, as in this case, we have the luxury of a waiting period. Hawk and I believe in giving the men some time to do whatever they want. It’s good for team focus.”

“In other words, preparation determines the success of a mission,” Vivi said.

“Yeah, but it’s also mental preparation, more than anything.”

“I see.” She was quiet for a bit. “So what do the guys do?”

“It’s all in the mindset, Vivi.” He realized she was trying to understand life from his viewpoint. He had the feeling that she hadn’t cared before. “We’re trained to perform under extreme pressure. Every little luxury is enjoyed, is taken advantage of. Sometimes it could be months before we’re allowed to surface back to normal, whatever that is. When we find fifteen hours, we don’t question what we want to do; we do it. Some go to church or pray; some of us take off just to be alone, away from the brothers.”

She turned. “And what do you do?” There was curiosity in her eyes, and something else.

“I like to play music.”

“What if you don’t have any instruments? No guitar, no piano?”

Jazz tapped his head. “That’s the beauty of music, sweetheart. It’s all in my head.”

She smiled. “You could always sing. I heard you can carry a tune.”

Ah, the lady was back to teasing him. “And how would you know?” he asked. “You haven’t ever heard me sing.”

“I have my sources,” she returned airily.

The old lady, of course. He wondered at their relationship, besides the fact that Grandmamasan was working for Interpol. He had to grin at that thought. The idea of that cranky old witch doing covert operations was hard to imagine.

“Are you related to the old lady?” Maybe that was why they worked together.

Her smile widen as she stopped the car in front of the building in which he had been a guest for a couple of days. He had been aware that she hadn’t been heading back to the compound, but he hadn’t expected to be coming here.

“She and I are close,” she said. “Relax, Lieutenant, I’m not locking you up.”

“I hope not. I have better ideas for my half a day.”

Vivi’s smile dimmed a little. “I was about to say I’m sorry that you have to spend your free time this way. I have a few errands to do before I can take you back, so you’re stuck with me for a bit. Not much music, I’m afraid.”

It was Jazz’s turn to grin. He couldn’t ask for more right now. He was more than willing to be “stuck” with, and to, Vivi for as long as possible.

“Do whatever you need,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

Vivi had no idea why she hadn’t just driven Jazz back to the compound. This was the first time she had ever taken an interest in talking with a military man. Until now, in her experiences with Interpol and other covert agencies, she had kept a certain distance from those involved. There was no need to understand how or why—she organized foreign teams and played peripheral roles. She was very good at her job. Her training allowed her that distance, and she hadn’t felt the need to understand these men whom she secretly disliked.

Okay, maybe not too secretly, since Jazz had pointed this out several times already. She didn’t like military machismo; men in uniforms were a necessary evil in her job. She knew her past colored her opinions, but in all the years doing GEM contracts, she hadn’t seen anything to change her mind. They came in, destroyed, removed, and then took off, leaving chaos.

His explanation gave her much to think about, and she felt just a bit guilty that she had been rude. She glanced at him, wondering what it was about her that interested him so much that he would want to spend his precious fifteen hours with her. It made her feel…special.

“Will I be in the way of your work?” he asked as they walked toward the building. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Other than getting me in the gossip headlines in there, you won’t be much trouble,” Vivi told him with a mischievous smile.

“Is that good or bad?” He opened the door for her. “It’s going to be interesting walking through here again.”

The front secretary was already dialing her phone as they went by. Vivi didn’t say anything as she handed over her security pass. She was going to lose her reputation as the ice queen. She hadn’t socialized with her colleagues as foreigners tended to when they lived overseas, and after a while they hadn’t included her in any of their functions. It didn’t bother her, since she wouldn’t have been able to go to any nighttime entertainment anyway. Amusement welled up. Wouldn’t they be shocked if they knew she had spent most of her nights wandering through the red-light districts.

She had forgotten her office overlooked the courtyard where he had been working. As luck would have it, the detainees were taking their break at that moment.

Jazz walked over to the window. “Hey, nice view,” he commented. “Do you interview every one of them?”

“No, not all of them.”

“Only the special ones, huh?”

She glanced up. He had that devilish smile again, the one that put her on guard. “Only the truly bad ones,” she drawled. “My turn to be curious…what would have happened if I hadn’t been around and no one would release you?”

Jazz slipped both his hands into his pants pockets and looked out the window again. “There would have been several options,” he replied noncommitally. “Maybe I’d sweet-talk someone from the organization—United Third World something or other.”

Vivi chuckled. “That would have been worth it, to see you sweet talk Juliana.”

His eyebrows shot up mockingly. “You don’t trust my powers of persuasion?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. But Juliana is into…numbers…and you’re worth more to her as a number.” She frowned as she read one of the messages. “Damn.”

“What is it?”

“Just…another headache.” The orphanage she had been corresponding with had called with a negative response. She had had high hopes for some open spots, one of which would be for Rose. Another avenue down the tubes. Speaking of which, she had better call to make sure Rose was okay. She kept in touch with Rose as much as she could. She dialed the number. Busy.

“I won’t be too long.”

“It’s okay, Vivi. I’m fine.” He strolled to the other wall to look at the paintings by local artists and photos belonging to her coworkers.

She looked through the rest of her messages, trying to ignore her awareness of Jazz’s presence. The office was cramped enough as it was, and he made it even smaller. Despite her intentions, she peeked. Why did the man have to look so damn good in a T-shirt, anyhow? The material stretched across the broad expanse of his back, emphasizing the athletic vee-shape tapering to narrow male hips. She had a wonderful view of his backside from her seat. In fact, she could just sit here and stare at it all day.

Tall, broad-shouldered, loose-limbed, he didn’t look anything like the filthy soldier she had first glimpsed from the doorway before his arrest. It seemed like eons ago when she heard him singing with his men. Even then she had stopped what she was doing to listen, had peered out from behind the curtain to look for the voice’s owner.

She hadn’t been able to see him properly until he had come between Rose and the other two soldiers. She remembered how easily he had towered over her, in her bent-up old woman disguise, and yet had impressed her with his soft-
spoken politeness, as if he had been brought up to treat women gently. And against her usual rules, she had attempted to stop him from going to the back. Twice.

Vivi smiled ruefully. Not that he had listened. Men, she had discovered in her experience of working with them, rarely paid attention to women when it came to important things. Like communication. They never listened. She had found herself repeating orders several times before they’d realized that she meant business, that she expected them to actually follow what she had told them to do.

She doubted this bunch of he-men SEALs would be any different. Hawk had been very thorough in his briefing with her, and she was impressed that he had actually given her so much leeway as it was. But he was a deep one, that man. She had a feeling that he would pull her back and do things his way when it suited him.

She gave a mental shrug. She had worked around male egos long enough and had done her job without too many problems. She looked at the thoroughly male form standing across the room. Jazz hadn’t asked her any questions beyond the safety of his men. Not a single one on what she was going to do while they were popping bullets all over the place. Did he expect her to be sitting prettily behind a rock waiting for them to bring her the girls?

They hadn’t asked and she hadn’t volunteered the information. Vivi frowned. She knew exactly how they would react if she told them she was going to be in the middle of the—

“You know, it’s very bad when a woman starts with a dreamy smile while she stares at your ass and then her expression becomes murderous.”

Vivi jerked out of her reverie, her attention returning sharply to Jazz. He hadn’t even turned around, so how could he have known how long she had been staring? Damn it, he hadn’t been looking at the paintings, as she had thought, but had been looking at her reflection from the mirror hanging on the other wall all this time.