Ruthless Game

  "Why should you trust anyone you don't know? Especially with our child? Every member of my family would be shocked and horrified if you'd easily accepted them. They want you, just as I do, to be leery of strangers." He massaged her shoulders, and then slid his hands down her back, pulling her closer. "Look at Eric. He's been our chosen doctor for all the teams, and yet not one of us realized he was an enemy."

  She leaned into him, wanting shelter in his arms, in the strength of his body. He was like an enormous oak tree, solid and unyielding, a sentinel she could always count on. "You were uneasy around him," Rose said. "That's one of the reasons I had trouble with him. I didn't like that he was so interested in DNA. He was always so obsessive about taking Sebastian's blood, even after I explained my worries. But had you trusted him implicitly, I might have acted differently."

  When he framed her face with his large hands and her eyes met his, her heart nearly exploded with love for him. There was no censure there, only respect and admiration. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I don't deserve you to feel like that about me, Kane. Not now. I can't forgive myself for nearly losing Sebastian. If I'd been better with everyone . . ."

  He stopped her with his mouth, that sinful, tempting mouth that she often fantasized about. The moment his lips, so cool and firm, settled over hers, her heart shifted, and her stomach did a long, slow somersault. Her heart stuttered. His body heat warmed her. The steely strength of his arms caging her made her feel safe--as if she had truly found a home. The taste of him drove her wild.

  Her eyes burned and her throat clogged with tears, even as her body went into familiar meltdown. She nearly dropped the blanket as she kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him. She gave herself to him, to the white-hot heat rushing through her veins in a fever of need, allowing the sensation to drive away guilt and fear and replace it with--him--with Kane.

  She fed on him, on the rising tide of feeling, so she didn't have to think, didn't have to relive those terrible moments when she knew she'd failed to protect their child, and Whitney had succeeded in taking him. It took a few moments before her head cleared enough to realize he was swaying a little. Abruptly she pulled away from him to look up at his face. So strong--even powerful. She could see what had always attracted her to him, that intense integrity, the loyalty and honor that was stamped so plainly into that strong man's face. He was no boy; maybe he'd never been one. He was like her little Sebastian, thrown into a world of violence, scrounging on the streets to survive. Right now, he looked a little gray.

  "Kane. Sit."

  He gave her a crooked smile that nearly took her heart right from her body. "You're so cute when you give me orders."

  She frowned at him. "No one's ever called me cute before." She tugged at his hand. "I'm feeling better. A shower will put me right, but you're exhausted."

  Of course he was. He hadn't been able to stand up properly only a week earlier. He couldn't do a full workout, yet he'd run through the streets, dove into the ocean, and fought the enemy underwater in cold water while the waves pounded him--to save her.

  Rose put one hand on his chest and pushed hard. Kane felt the steady pressure and was surprised, as always, that such a small frame could be so strong. Still, she wouldn't have rocked him, even though he was exhausted, but she looked so beautiful and so determined he couldn't stop himself from giving in to her. That look of sheer grit replaced the guilt in her eyes, and he'd take that any day over her feeling guilty over something she had no control over.

  "Stay right there and rest. When I get out of the shower I'll make tea."

  His heart tripped, and without thinking his hand snaked out to snag her wrist as she turned away from him. He tugged. The blanket slipped before she could stop it, and she nearly lost her balance. He caught her around the waist with both hands and lifted her onto his lap, facing him, so that she settled over his hips, straddling him. He could feel her heat burning through the material of his jeans, pressed tight right over his eager cock.

  She wiggled, and his entire body seemed to burst into flames. He ran his hands possessively down her back. No matter how many times he held her, she seemed so fragile to him, such a miracle. Her skin, even now, smelling of the sea, was soft over all those exquisitely firm muscles.

  "Let me take a shower, Kane," she whispered, nuzzling into his neck, her arms creeping around his neck, her body settling into his.

  The blood pounded through his veins, thundered through his heart, and roared in his ears, all in reaction to the realization that there was no resistance in Rose. The moment he touched her, her body fit into his, made for him. She gave herself to him wholly, surrendering everything to him. His heart contracted. He'd never thought to have a woman for his own and certainly not a woman like Rose who wanted him with the same encompassing fever that he had for her.

  "I'm salty and fishy."

  He laughed. This could have been the worst day of his life, but here he was, his son sleeping peacefully in the other room, his woman naked and compliant in his arms. He bit that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder and felt her shudder in need.

  "I don't give a damn how you smell, baby," he assured her. "I just need to get these jeans open. Shift just a little." He dropped his hands to the buttons, lifting his hips just enough to slip the offensive material down his hips.

  The relief was tremendous. The moment he sprang free, his eager cock encountered her scorching, damp heat. "You're heaven for me, Rose. My sanctuary."

  Hands on her waist, he lifted her, positioning her body over him, until just the broad, flared head was pushing inside the heat of her body. The fact that she was already damp, already just as eager for him, was amazing to him. Very slowly he lowered her body over his. Heat gripped him, surrounding him, all that pulsing energy. He drove through the soft, hot folds, sweet fire engulfing him. She threw back her head, arching her back, her throat working convulsively as her breasts pushed against his chest. Her nipples felt like two pinpoints of flames, sending a streak of fire straight to his groin.

  He loved the look on her face as she slowly impaled herself on his cock. There were so many ways he was eager to explore taking her, but he wanted this--that sexy, needy look that no woman could ever fake, her eyes half closed, her lips parted, the rush of air and the flush of color. He especially loved the way her chocolate eyes melted into a glittering glaze.

  His cock embedded deep, all the way to the hilt. He inhaled, feeling the air rush from her lungs into his as he inhaled. He couldn't close his eyes to savor the sensations pouring over him, not and watch her face too, and he craved the sight of her, so sexy, so feminine, enjoying his body with the same desperate hunger he had for her. He needed the sight of her, alive and well. She had somehow become his world in a very short space of time, the need for her--not just her body but Rose herself--had become paramount to his happiness.

  He mapped her feminine shape with his hands, worshipping her, stroking his fingers over her rib cage, upward to cup her breasts while she rode him with a leisurely rhythm designed to drive him slowly out of his mind. He loved this woman in a way he never thought possible. She'd stolen her way inside him that first time he'd shared her bed. The courage in her had been beyond comprehension to him. He had fallen hard, and he had known then that no other woman would get to him in the same way she did. His respect and admiration for her had only grown from that first meeting. He'd handed his heart into her keeping when he hadn't even fully known what he was doing, and now he was more than happy that he'd done so.

  He let her set the pace. Let her use him to drive away the terror of their near loss. He wanted to drive away every demon, every fear--for her. To put the shine back in her eyes, to give her back her faith in herself. She was killing him with the slow spirals she liked to use, a dance of fire, with her silky cap of hair spilling around her face and those dark eyes showing him how lost in pleasure she was.

  He could watch the emotions chase across her face forever. Hi
s hands slid over her body, memorizing every inch until they settled on her hips. He flexed his fingers, enjoying the tight, hot friction gripping him, the buildup of need until it surged through him, until he couldn't take the slow, lazy pace another second.

  "Hold on, baby," he whispered softly.

  She reached out and touched his face, looking at him with her almond eyes. "You're mine," she whispered.

  That one sultry look, the brush of her fingers against his face, and the possession in her voice was his undoing. "Son of a bitch, Rose, you kill me sometimes," he bit out between clenched teeth. It was either swear or cry when she turned him inside out like she did.

  He gripped her hips hard and began to thrust into her, driving deeper and deeper, filling her, stretching her, taking her up hard and fast. He felt the silken walls surrounding him clasp and spasm, convulse and contract as powerful waves took her like a tsunami. Her orgasm tore through her, pulsing around his cock with white-hot heat, until he couldn't hold back and he went over the edge with her.

  She collapsed against him, gasping for air. Kane caught the back of her head in his palm and urged her to bury her face against his neck as they both struggled to regain control of their breathing.

  "I love you, Rose," he told her, the words wrenched from somewhere deep inside him. "I think we need a bed. I can't ever make love to you properly if we don't find us a good bed."

  She smiled against his shoulder. "Um, Kane? We have a perfectly good bed. You just can't wait long enough to use it."

  "You're always getting up to feed the baby and I have to go find you and then ... well ... things naturally happen." He brushed a kiss into her wild hair. "Are you feeling better?"

  Her laughter was contagious and somewhat muffled against his shoulder. She trailed kisses over the heavy muscles of his chest. "You're so insane. Is this what we're going to do every time I'm upset?"

  "Of course. I'm kissing you better."

  "Kissing?"

  "And other things." He nuzzled her neck and then nipped at her. She squirmed, causing her muscles to clamp down on him all over again, a sensation he found extremely pleasurable. He bit down again just to feel the effect a second time.

  "You sound so smug."

  "I deserve to be smug." He was certain he did. She glowed. He'd driven the guilt and fear away for a space of time, replacing the negative emotions with sheer pleasure, and that was what mattered. "I'm good." He wanted to give her everything she'd never had. He wanted to be her damn superhero, which was laughable when he could never quite find the right words to tell her what she meant to him.

  Her soft laughter teased his nerve endings back to full alert. "You're more than good, and you know it." She turned her face toward his, her lips slightly parting as if to speak.

  Kane leaned forward and fastened his mouth to hers, welding them together. Her body shivered in response, and the little aftershocks rippling through her sheath sent shock waves through his cock. He deepened the kiss, unable to ever just kiss her once. Not when she was so responsive and he loved the taste of her more than anything else he'd ever had.

  When he finally allowed her to catch her breath, she clung to him, sweeping back his hair, looking into his eyes. "You're not supposed to exert yourself, Kane, and you just ran, dove into the ocean, fought with divers, and made love to me. Your doctor ..."

  He took her mouth again, cutting off her words, taking his time with a slow, lazy kiss. When he lifted his head, she was flushed and her eyes sparkled. He grinned at her. "My doctor is a fucking traitor, sweetheart, and I damn well am not following his orders."

  She narrowed her gaze, those chocolate eyes darkening ominously. Her fantasy lips pressed together in a straight, disapproving line. Her tough look. The one she used when she blew shit up or shoved a gun in his belly. Okay, he was a sick, sick man, because instead of being intimidated like any sane man who knew her would be, he just found her so damned sexy. His cock, still deep inside her, thickened and hardened, his one and only weapon--and a very promising one at that.

  "Don't you dare start," she cautioned.

  Rose put her feet firmly on the floor and pushed up, her sheath gripping him hard, causing nearly unbearable friction on his hypersensitive shaft. His breath caught in his lungs. His cock jerked. She was supposed to sound tough, he knew that, but to him, she was a breathy little sex kitten giving him the come-on.

  Even as she turned away purposefully, intending to stalk her way to the shower, he followed her silently. She got five steps until she was beside an overstuffed chair. He caught her around the waist, pushed her over the arm of the chair, holding her down with one hand on the nape of her neck. With one bare foot, he kicked her legs apart, slipping his hand between her legs to find her damp entrance.

  "The first time was for you, Rose," he said, or tried to say it. His voice had gone hoarse, almost strangled. This was for him. Her body was his. He wanted to fill her up with him. Brand her with him. Leave his scent all over her. Love her until she couldn't walk or think. Until she knew she would never leave him, never want to leave him alone again.

  He slammed home, a hard surge that took him deep, pushing through her sweet, silken folds, until he was completely buried in her, surrounded by all that living, breathing fire. Flames sizzled through his bloodstream, rushing hot to center in his groin. Her soft, breathy moan drove his temperature up another notch, and he lost himself in her. For a few minutes there was only the sound of their bodies coming together, the gasping for air and her sweet, sweet haven, a cauldron of fire burning bright and beautiful surrounding him as her tight muscles clasped him.

  He'd had sex, but it had never been like this. He let the sheer pleasure take his mind and he let go, no longer as gentle, pulling her hips back into him as he surged forward, feeling her response, the way she pushed back with him. The fire was already threatening to engulf him, but he held it off as he thrust into her over and over. She seemed to flow like hot silk around him, created for him, the taste, smell, and feel of her wiping out anyone who had ever come before.

  Her face was turned partially away from him, flushed with heat, with arousal, her dark hair spilling around her in that disheveled, sexy way he loved. He savored her soft moans and breathy little pleas as he pounded into her scorching embrace.

  "I dream about us, Rose," he whispered, unable to stop himself from telling her the truth. He retreated from that perfect heat and slammed deep and hard again, feeling her body shudder in reaction. "I want you like this, so hot, all liquid heat for me--only me--knowing you belong only to me. Knowing you never want me to leave your body."

  She moaned, that pleading gasp mixed with the sheer music of her need that he craved. She was close--he knew her now, knew all the signs of her body--and he increased his speed, using more force. Power and heat coiled in his body, a bright, hot energy that gathered like pooling lava. Her body locked down on his like a vise as she came, crying out, a sexy sound that was purely erotic. She vibrated, sending ripples of pleasure banding around his cock. He thrust deep again and again, while she pulsed hotly around him, and then his own body bucked and shuddered with absolute ecstasy. He emptied himself into her, pouring out his heart and soul along with his seed.

  He staggered, his legs turning to rubber. For a moment the room spun. His fingers bit into her hips to steady himself, and the world went hazy.

  "Kane."

  The anxiety in her voice forced him to take air into his lungs and allow his body to leave hers, but for the life of him, he couldn't move, couldn't take a single step. He would have fallen into a heap on the floor. Better for his dignity to hang on to the chair and just sway back and forth until his leg muscles weren't spaghetti anymore.

  Well. No. The chair wasn't going to hold him up, and neither were his legs. He was going down into a very un-graceful heap, no doubt about it. And he'd never live it down. She'd hold it over him the rest of his life, and so would the team--but there was nothing for it. The room spun, his hand slipped from the chair,
and his legs just refused to hold him up.

  Rose straightened quickly, catching him around the waist, surprising him with her strength again. Her appearance was so deceptive, making him always want to be the white knight, rescuing her. He always allowed the fact that she was physically and psychically enhanced to slip his mind, but when he was reminded, like now, he felt such a rush of heat.

  "Don't even think about it, soldier," she hissed, as she half walked, half carried him the two steps around to the front of the chair. "You just fell on your ass, Kane."

  "No, I didn't. I never actually hit the floor," he said proudly, subsiding into the chair. He thought about pounding his chest, but she was glaring at him, hands on hips. "Hell, baby, I just made love to you not once but twice. And I totally rescued you from the sea," he reminded her. "I'm your superhero."

  She sniffed. "You fell on your ass," she repeated. "My big, strong, white knight fell on his ass. You couldn't keep up."

  He grinned at her. Happy. "I can keep it up. Just come over here and kneel down right there." He opened his legs for her in invitation. "You look sexy as hell."

  She rolled her eyes, but her mouth curved into a smile. "I'm sure I do, all sweaty with milk running down my breasts. You're insane, Kane, but I think I'm crazy about you." She turned abruptly and left him.

  He let himself slide down the chair until his head rested on the back of it, totally spent, drifting between awake and dreaming.

  CHAPTER 17

  Rose tightened her arms around Sebastian as she followed Kane down the stairs to the second floor. The entire team had assembled in hushed silence. Javier and Ethan crouched beside the stairway and door leading to the outside fire escape, examining walls and railings in an effort to find whatever Eric had left behind. Ethan looked up as they came down the stairs and signaled them to silence.

  Is Brian alive? Kane asked.

  Paul and Marc saved him, Mack answered the question.

  Rose was astonished that she was able to hear the master gunnery sergeant's voice in her mind. She and Kane had a strong connection, something she believed stemmed from Whitney pairing them together. She could initiate telepathy, but it had never been strong, and unlike Mack or Kane, she could never have held a bridge for an entire team.