Total Surrender (12 page)

His gaze flicked to the letter opener. “Drop the weapon, sweetheart.”

How had he found her so easily? “No.” She turned around more fully to face him. Her heart rate sped up, and her breathing increased—and not from danger. The man permeated every space, taking over, filling it.

He smiled.

She frowned. “What’s pleasing you?”

“You.” His gaze dropped to the chest she was desperately trying to calm. “You try so hard to be something you’re not,
and the real you always shines through.” Satisfaction tilted his lip. “I like that about you.”

His voice. Jesus. Gravelly, hot, and masculine, wrapping around her with hoarse warmth. Her chest grew heavy.

She shivered. “Look who’s talking.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re all scary and big, kicking down doors and kidnapping women.” She focused absolutely on him. “Yet the only time I’ve seen you really happy, really engaged, is when you were MacGyvering that keypad back at the facility.” In her experience, geeks didn’t look like Jory, but geek he was. “Computer nerd.”

The smile widened, making him look like a predator who’d trapped prey and now wanted to play awhile before taking a bite. Nobody should be that good-looking. Damn fallen angel face—all sharp angles and hard lines. Set with a deadly intelligence. As if drawn, her gaze dropped to his full lips. Talented lips. She knew firsthand.

A low groan rumbled up from his chest. “The way you look at me.”

This was madness. She sucked in air, her body alive. So damn alive. “Why are you here?”

“Your place is being watched. Heat signature devices as well as listening devices.”

She glanced toward the sliding glass door. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. They’re on you and will remain so. Just in case you know too much or if I try to contact you.” He shrugged. “I warned you about them.”

“You’re crazy.” Although so far, he had given her the exact truth, as evidenced by his brothers hugging him in the rain. She shook her head to dispel the memory and concentrate on the matter at hand.

What exactly could the soldiers spying on her see? “With a heat image, they can’t, like, you know, see everything?” Holy
crap. The things she’d done in the shower earlier… imagining Jory there touching her. Teasing her. Taking her.

Amusement creased his cheek. “Pretty much everything. Why? What have you been doing?”

“Clumsy yoga.” Heat rose in her face, which hopefully the soft light lost. Anybody deserved a good fantasy life and a great shower experience. That didn’t make her bad, although the jury was still out on Jory. Was he a good guy or as bad as the commander claimed? In her fantasies, he was freakin’ awesome. Here in reality? Overwhelming and dangerous with a side of sexy. Make that a whole shit load of sexy. She had tried so hard to curb her penchant for jumping feet first into the fire, and yet here she stood, dancing with flames again.

Her hands fluttered out, tingling with the need to touch. “I’m getting confused.”

“I lured you here.”

She lifted her chin. Her heart beat faster, and her lungs compressed. So her brain focused. “You messed with Earl’s computer?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it, Jory. It’s taken me forever to get him to work with a computer, and now you’ve scared him off.” Good. If they could just keep talking normally, her body would relax.

Jory’s cheek creased. “I’m sorry.”

She stood, the letter opener cool in her palm. “And you made me run
naked
through soldiers and bullets.”

Jory winced. “I know, and believe me, I would’ve liked to have seen you from the other side. But I have to tell you, darlin’. You have a great ass.”

Heat flushed into her face and a completely unladylike snarl curled her lip.

He waited, all male patience. “I’m not going to ask again about the weapon.”

She glanced down at her hand and then back up at him,
fire all but burning her from inside. Too much. Want, need, fear, uncertainty… way too much all around. So she let her glorious temper loose. “Fuck you, Jory.”

She had the briefest of seconds to appreciate the quick smile he flashed before she found herself flat on her back on the Persian rug, hands over her head, her body covered by an impossibly hard man. His knees nudged hers apart, and he settled against her.

Only a vicious bite from her own teeth to her own lip kept her eyes from rolling back in her head. This was so much better than her shower fantasy. Her lids half-closed as she studied his hard gaze. How could gray be warm? It should be a cold color. This close, heat spiraled through the gray like fire in a storm.

“Your move, green eyes.”

Oh yeah? Her mind blanked. “Jory.”

His gaze softened while his powerful body pressed her to the floor. Masculine knowledge lifted his lip. Arrogance and something indefinably Jory. Pure male.

Challenge rose up so quickly in her she stiffened. He wanted to play? Yeah. So did she. She wriggled her butt, allowing his groin closer to hers. Hard. Definitely hard.

With a smile that even felt dangerous, she levered up and captured his lower lip between hers. Someday she might wonder what in the hell possessed her to push a guy like Jory, but not right now. Now? She wanted to feel, and she wanted to take his control. She’d fucking earned it. So she swept her tongue between his lips.

A low, rumbling growl vibrated against her mouth—a sound of warning. The echo shot right down to where his cock pulsed between her legs.

Too bad she liked playing with fire. Heated her right up. So she nipped. Hard.

He levered back, slowly and in perfect control. “What
was that?” His voice whispered along her skin, winding down to heat her clit.

She shivered. “My move. Remember?”

He licked his lips with a soft hum. “That wasn’t a move.”

“No?” Why in the hell was she still pushing him? “So show me a move.”

If her dare had taken him by surprise, he didn’t show it.

“Gladly.” His hold tightened around her wrists, keeping her in place. Not hurting, but definitely tethering. He was stronger than she, by a lot, and he seemed happy to let her know it. His gaze dropped to her lips, and his groin pressed her cleft. Hot and rigid, he slid against her. Her thighs trembled, and she ached deep inside. She gasped.

He nuzzled her neck and pressed harder against her core. He bucked his hips, pressing unerringly against her clit, and lava shot through her body. Her thighs widened naturally, and her body trembled with a need so great it couldn’t be real.

She tried to breathe, wondering why she’d thought he’d kiss her instead of playing her body like a musical master. “Always do the unexpected, don’t you?” she gasped, fighting every urge to rub against him.

“Yes.” He lowered his chest to hers, and her nipples peaked into diamond-hard points. “I like the feel of you. Tight and needy. Fighting so damn hard.”

“You don’t know me,” she bit out, her body crying for relief.

He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. “Spread your legs wider, Piper.” A slight Southern twang lifted his consonants.

Her legs moved before she could think, and she arched up into pure masculine perfection. Vulnerability caught her breath as her body took over. She was way out of her element, without question. “Stop playing games.”

He licked her earlobe before tracing her jaw with his mouth, sure and warm. “Don’t have time for games.” He lifted up, his lips right above hers.

Her mouth tingled, needy and desperate. More than anything, she wanted his on hers. “Kiss me, Jory.”

His head lowered a bit more, leaving barely a breath between them. “My way only.”

“Okay.” Any way would work. She closed her eyes.

“Open.” He waited until she opened her eyes to focus on him. Then his mouth covered hers.

She’d expected hot and deep. Had prepared for it, prepared herself to handle him with delight. Instead, he moved softly, at his leisure, enjoyment on his hum. He licked the corners of her mouth, tracing her lips with his.

“So sweet,” he murmured. “So soft.”

She fought to stay sane and in control. Yet he continued to caress her, his mouth on fire as he wandered across her cheek, down to her jaw, and up again to her earlobe, where he nipped.

Not enough. Not nearly enough. She ground against him, and he clamped a hand on her hip, holding her still.

Then he continued to play. So gently, so intently.

Sparklers spiraled around in her mind, and her vision clouded. “Jory,” she breathed. She couldn’t control him, and she didn’t really want to. Making the realization, her body softened under his. To just
feel
.

“There it is,” he whispered. Then his mouth covered hers again, this time with force. He rocked her back into the rug, his mouth moving, his tongue tasting her. Moving where he wanted,
how
he wanted. He definitely took, but oh. How he gave. Hard and deep and fierce… so much in a kiss.

She could barely breathe, wasn’t sure she cared, when he lifted his head. “Wow.” For a deadly badass computer geek, Jory could really kiss.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his eyes glittering.

There was a demand in the way he touched her, in the way he kissed. One she should run the hell away from, if she had any sense of self-preservation. The sexy soldier wanted
everything she had to give, and she knew better. She had yet to meet a man she could trust, and the soldier on the run was a seriously bad bet.

“Why did you come here tonight?” she asked, trying to focus.

His nostrils flared. “To talk.” He pressed down against her.

Electrical sparks shot through her erogenous zones, catching her breath. She was so damn close. A tingling started deep in her abdomen, and her clit started to pound. “We’re not talking.” If she moved against him just right, if she just found the right friction, she might actually orgasm. That quickly and that easily. Her eyes widened, and she held very still. She couldn’t let go like that. Couldn’t let him know how close he’d brought her so easily.

His eyes darkened. Too late. He’d caught her, and he knew. Somehow, he knew.

His slight smile cascaded shivers along her skin. “Now I’m here for another reason.” That Southern twang increased in force.

“What?” she gasped.

“One taste, Piper. Before I die, one taste of you. I’m not going to heaven, but maybe I could have a taste before I go.”

J
ORY KEPT THE
advantage, grinding his cock into her softness. Piper’s eyes, clouded with need, widened.

Yeah, she wanted him. And even though he was a class-A
asshole, he wanted one good memory with her to take to his grave. There wasn’t a way to save him, and he figured they both knew it.

For now, he wanted one taste.

He smoothed his hands down her arms, encircling them, not feeling any ridges. Good. On to her shoulders, while she watched him with that wide-eyed stare as she tried to control her body.

So amazingly sweet.

Regret gripped him. He wouldn’t be on earth much longer, and he wouldn’t see her through the pain to come. The commander would hurt her, and she’d have to be strong enough to walk away. “I wish we had more time,” he said softly.

She blinked. “I’ll figure out the chips.” Then she gasped. “You only have three days—we don’t have time for this.”

“There’s time for this.” If he had to go, he needed to take something good with him. Then she shifted against him, heat from her core tempting his dick, and he forgot all about the chips. Instead, he ran his hands along her shoulders and down her chest, unbuttoning and removing her blouse.

A strangled groan rippled up his throat.

Fucking beautiful. She hadn’t worn a bra, and her nipples were a light pink against her mocha skin, pert and ready to play. Never one to deny himself, he lowered his head and flicked one.

Her hands dug into his hair and clenched. Erotic pain lanced along his scalp, so he hovered over the other breast, letting his breath heat her. He licked and sucked, moving his way down her torso. Abdomen muscles undulated under his mouth, and he took careful pains to touch her everywhere, to feel for anything out of place, even as he enjoyed himself.

She had on a tiny skirt that he smoothly flipped out of his
way. Her strangled moan flooded him with pleasure as he snapped the sides of her panties. Then he tasted her.

Holy heaven on a stick. She tasted like cinnamon, spice, and all fucking woman. At the contact, the beast at his core, the one he shoved down at every opportunity, roared. Barely keeping a hold on himself, Jory took a deep breath and looked up at her flushed face.

“Say you want this,” he said.

She blinked and nodded, amusement filtering through the lust in her eyes. “Oh. I want this. Right or wrong.”

Who the hell cared about right or wrong? He kissed her clit, appeased when her entire body shuddered. “Then it’s my way. Remember?”

She bit her lip, desire and uncertainty crossing her face. “Okay?”

“Hands back up, Piper.”

The hold tightened on his hair. “Or what?”

His girl wanted to play, did she? With an easy motion, he flipped her onto her stomach and smacked her ass. Hard.

“Hey—” she protested, her hands now flat on the rug. “You are way too strong.”

He rubbed the imprint of his hand, quite liking it there. A quick survey of her legs and back revealed a scar just under her right shoulder blade. He reached up and fingered the puckered skin, feeling the small tag beneath the skin. Drawing in a breath, he tuned into the frequency to memorize the pattern. She probably didn’t even know it was there. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “Um. Oh yeah. A chair at work had a loose spring, and the damn thing cut me. Had to have stitches.”

His head dropped, and his shoulders slumped. Well, he’d found the tracker. For now, they’d leave it there. If he had any more time for regrets, his heart would break at the thought
that the commander had tagged her, the lying bastard. For now, Jory could steal a few seconds of heaven.

Taking the moment, he wanted to bring pleasure to the one woman who’d dug under his skin to see the real him. When she’d talked about his MacGyver moves, she’d seen the true geek beneath the soldier’s training. More than anything, he wished he could be that guy. For her.

They didn’t have much time. Her being in Earl’s house was part of her normal routine, so the soldiers would think he hadn’t considered their surveillance, even though he knew full well they were listening. The commander would think he had fooled Jory. He wouldn’t try to capture Jory now, not when there was a chance to get all four brothers.

The soldiers were probably on surveillance only. No doubt they were recording all sound, but right now, he didn’t give a shit. Time was short, and the woman was sweet. So he flipped her back over and sucked her clit into his mouth.

She arched against him, sighing.

He looked up at her. Glorious. Tousled hair, needy eyes, so much softness a guy could get lost. Forever. Instead, he wanted to push her over. To see her in the throes, completely lost to him. “Hands up.”

Expressions crossed her pretty face as she considered her options, each one more revealing that the last. The woman should never play poker. Finally, with a snort that
almost
sounded like submission, she slid her hands back up over her head.

He rewarded her by slipping one finger inside her, and then a second. Twisting and turning, brushing a bundle of nerves that made her thighs tremble. With a sigh, he lowered his face and licked her clit, going to town with just enough pressure to drive her crazy. Forcing her up, waiting until sweat slicked her body and she mumbled incoherent pleas, he waited until one of the pleas included his name.

Then he nipped.

She went off like an AGM-65 Maverick missile, all explosion and fury. Crying out his name, she arched her back off the rug, waves wracking her body.

He gripped her hips to hold her in place, and continued playing until she settled back down with a soft sigh. Still, he tasted.

She shuddered and smoothed the hair back from his head. “No more.” The sound came out like a whimper, and he smiled. One more kiss, and he levered up. God, she was fucking perfect. “Thank you, Piper.” There weren’t any words to explain what her trust meant, nor how much he wished things could be different. But he’d taken enough time for himself and now had to get back to saving his brothers. Setting her clothes back in place while she lay limply, he picked her up and dropped to the couch, warm woman in his arms.

A warm, snuggly woman. She cuddled her face into his neck, one hand rubbing his chest as she wiggled on his raging hard-on. “What about you?” she whispered.

His heart thumped. Hard and just for her. “I love that you just asked that.” The woman cared with everything she had, and the bittersweet moment attacked his heart. “But we don’t have time.”

She lifted up, her eyes luminous in the soft light. “What do you need, Jory?”

He reached over his head to flip on the radio to a mellow country station. Loud enough anybody listening in wouldn’t hear the gist of his words. “Help. I need your help, sweetheart. Please,” he whispered.

“How?” she asked.

“Chance, the kid from the facility? He’s one of my three brothers held captive in the facility by your father.” Jory gripped her chin, turning her to face him. His jaw hardened,
and he tried to remain gentle. “Time to make a choice, sweetheart. Please. Choose me.”

In the middle of the inland facility, near a massive mountain range, Chance cleaned the weapon, his hands steady, his senses tuned to the surroundings. Outside the barracks in the inner Utah compound, construction noises continued throughout the day. The beeps of backing up equipment, the yells of men, the sounds of more buildings being built.

Apparently the commander was consolidating his base in Utah.

Too bad. A beach in Hawaii would’ve been a lot more fun.

A chill hung in the cement barracks this time of year, and Chance drew the cold into his body. Accepting was easier than fighting it.

Four cots scattered throughout the hollow room, and the fourth bed would forever haunt him. The gun lay heavy and sure in his hand, and if he didn’t have two brothers to save, he’d use it. Right now and directly to his temple. Life was just too fucking damn hard.

Instead, he glanced at Kyle, his younger brother, sitting on a bunk and sharpening a Sharkman blade while humming an old AC/DC tune. “How did blade training go?” Chance asked.

Kyle lifted his gaze, and dark circles lined under his eyes. The kid hadn’t slept through an entire night since Greg had died. “Fine. The commander’s off his game, though.”

“I know.” Chance engaged the safety on the Walther 9mm pistol. “I think the guy in the cage escaped, and the commander is freaking.”

“Jory?” Kyle asked, his shoulder hunching.

“Yeah. Why?” Chance eyed the bruises down Kyle’s slender arms. The kid was about ten years old and needed to grow. Fast. They also had to spend more time with knife practice after grappling training the next day.

Kyle shrugged. “You should’ve gone with him when he escaped. You know that.”

“I’d never leave you.” Chance shook his head. Besides, he didn’t know shit about Jory, now did he?

Kyle slid the knife into a sheath and scooted to sit on the army cot with his back to the wall. “Me and Wade were talking.”

Chance lifted an eyebrow. Wade was probably a year younger than Kyle and rarely spoke after Greg’s death. “That had to be a short conversation.”

Kyle didn’t remotely crack a smile. “Yeah. It was.”

Chance tilted his head to the side, narrowing his gaze on his brother. “So? What did you two talk about?”

Kyle’s shoulders went back, and his eyes darkened to emerald, making him look much older than ten. “You go on more missions than we do. If you get the chance, we want you to escape and have a life. To be free.”

“No.” Chance forced command into his voice. He’d give anything to have escaped with Jory but not without his brothers. If there was a way to freedom, he’d find it with them. That much he knew.

“Yes.” Kyle plucked at a string on the rough wool blanket. “Maybe that Jory will come back for you? He saw you, and he knows you. Right?”

“Probably not.” Chance hated to erase the hope from Kyle’s face, but they had to be honest with each other. “If he actually made a full escape, then he’s long gone from here. He has to be.”

Wade jogged inside, his boots leaving mud tracks. “The commander is pissed, and we’ve gone on high alert.”

Chance stood. “From the prisoner escaping?” It was easier using designations instead of Jory’s name. He couldn’t get attached, because no way would the soldier come back for a few straggly kids.

“That and something else.” Wade dropped onto his cot,
his blond hair standing up in freshly cropped spikes. His blue eyes opened wide. “Some other threat that really pissed him off.” He wiped mud off his cheek. “You said that Jory guy was huge and scary?”

That’s not exactly what Chance had said. “I said he was bigger than the commander and didn’t seem frightened at all.” Chance’s chest puffed out. “He stood up to him, and the commander kind of seemed worried. Even Dr. Madison stepped away from Jory’s cage.” Yeah. That was pride in Chance’s voice, and he needed to knock that shit off. “Not that it matters.”

Wade’s lip twisted. “Maybe Jory will come back and take out the commander. Help us get the hell out of here.”

Kyle nodded. “You two need to get free. You do.”

Chance frowned. “What about you?”

Kyle’s chin lowered. “I’m not leaving Greg.”

The figurative punch to the gut nearly doubled Chance over. “He’s not here anymore. Only his body is buried on the other side of the training field.” Beyond a barbed wire fence, and beyond their reach—there to remind them what happened if they failed. But they’d seen the casket, and he’d seen Greg’s body. The kid was dead and hopefully in a better place. Hell. Any place was better. “If we find a way out, you’re coming. Period.”

Kyle slowly focused. “It sounds like you have a plan.”

Not yet, but he was working on it. “We’re on our own, and we need to come up with an escape.” Because his instincts were on full alert, and something bad was about to go down. He’d never understood his special abilities, the ones that had saved his life more than once, but he trusted them. “The only strategy I can think of is to invite to dinner the folks who want us dead.”

If he didn’t get his brothers out soon, they’d all join Greg in the ground.