His tongue brushed her nipple, and her back arched, a soft moan slipping from her lips. He lifted his head, his crystal blue eyes touching hers, brimming with molten heat.
“I like it when you moan for me.”
She touched his face, wanting so desperately to know the man beneath the warrior. “Your eyes,” she said. “Show me the real color.” She felt, rather than saw, his reaction, the instant tension in his body and responded. “The real you. That’s who I want. That’s who I need.”
He stared at her, unmoving, barely breathing, until his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, drawing her into a frenzied burn of pure hot sensation. Their hands were all over each other, their clothes vanishing. She never felt such an ache to feel skin against skin.
Time faded into moans, into sighs, into the ache of her body’s need for him to be inside her that had her calling out when he pushed away from her to stand at the end of the bed—naked, rippling perfection, every bit as delicious as she’d imagined. Instinct sent her to the edge of the mattress, eager to touch him again, to feel him and look at him. He reached for her and pulled her with him as he sat down on the chair. “I need to be inside you, Cassandra,” he said, easing her legs across him.
“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly, letting him brace her as she slid down the long, hard length of him until he was buried deeply, completely.
His hand tangled in her long blonde hair, gently tugging her mouth to his. “Do you feel how much I need you?” His hips shifted, his cock expanding within her, stroking her with one long, teasing caress.
“Yes,” she gasped as he did it again.
His eyes shifted blue to black. “Are you scared now, Cassandra?”
She didn’t want to fall for a soldier, didn’t want to worry or be hurt, and her heart said it was too late. She wasn’t falling for him. She’d fallen. “Yes,” she whispered, leaning back farther, ensuring that he could see the emotion behind her words. “You scare the hell out of me, Michael Taylor.”
“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” he said, before he claimed her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss that paled to the wildness that followed. He let her feel the vulnerability and pain behind each stroke of his cock, each caress of his tongue. He needed her, and that didn’t scare her. But how much she needed him…did.
Michael wasn’t good for Cassandra. He knew it. He was pretty damn sure she knew it too. But there was an odd feeling of peace inside him while he was with her, a feeling that almost—almost—as impossible as he thought it to be—made him feel human.
Michael had told himself to leave before she woke up, to make last night a mistake not to be repeated. But after getting dressed, he’d sat down in that chair where they’d made love and was still there when her alarm went off. And damn if he wasn’t glad he’d stayed around because seeing her with her hair wild and her lips swollen from his kisses, was an invitation to a good morning that had him following her to the kitchen while she made coffee.
“I hope you like your caffeine so strong it’ll peel your eyelids back,” she said, a few minutes later in the kitchen.
“The stronger the motor oil,” he said, leaning an elbow on the cabinet across from her, “the better.”
She smiled her approval, turned to the cabinet, and pushed to her tip toes, trying to reach a mug. Michael would have helped her, but he was too busy admiring her cute heart-shaped butt, outlined in silk, and trying to talk himself out of setting her up on that counter and taking her right here and now.
She turned to face him, mugs in hand. “You GTECHs might not need much sleep, but I—” A gasp cut off her words, the mugs flying in the air, as her knees buckled.
Michael caught her around the waist, and she collapsed against him. “My neck,” she whispered, barely able to speak. “It…hurts.” She balled her fists on his chest, desperation in her pain-stricken face.
He lifted her and carried her to the couch, sitting down and cradling her shaking body in his arms. “Easy, sweetheart,” he soothed, running his hand over her hair. He didn’t have to look at her neck to know what was happening, any more than he imagined she did. He’d known to stay away from her, known he was treading dangerous waters, and now, he’d marked her.
Long minutes later, she eased off his lap onto the cushion. “I’m okay. I think it’s passing now.” They stared at each other several tense seconds before she confirmed she was thinking the same thing he was when she said, “You should check my neck.”
He nodded, and she slowly turned, lifting her hair to expose her neck. The instant Michael saw that mark on her skin, a rush of pure white-hot possessiveness flared inside him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to the double circle on her neck, wanting nothing more than to make love to her, to mark her yet again as his.
“Michael,” she whispered, leaning into him, and he could feel her responding to his need, feel the passion turning damn near combustible. “Is it…?”
“Yes,” he said, turning her in his arms, resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavily, both barely controlling themselves. His fingers brushed her cheek.
Her hand covered his, holding it to her face as if she couldn’t bear to lose the touch. “I should call Kelly.”
“No,” he said, fixing her in a stare, letting her see just how wild the fire was in his eyes. “No one can know about this. I won’t let you get turned into a lab rat. Not because of me.”
“I trust Kelly,” she said. “She’ll keep this to herself.”
“Until something worries her and she feels obligated to tell your father,” he said, releasing her, trying to get himself under control—feeling protectiveness fill the space that had been possessiveness and passion only moments before.
He pushed to his feet and ran his hand over his head, giving her his back, knowing he had to make her understand the importance of keeping their bond a secret. And so, he did the only thing he knew to do—he admitted to her what he had told no other—not even Caleb, who he trusted with his life. “You were right—that first day we met.” He kept his back to her, avoiding any fear he might see in her eyes. “I am different than the other GTECHs.”
“The wind,” she said softly prodding. “You have a special bond of some sort with it.”
He turned to face her, not even trying to mask the emotion in his face. She looked small, her long hair pushed behind her ears, exposing the uncertain emotion in her eyes. For a moment, he had to remind himself she might look and feel, even smell, like a delicate little flower in his arms, but she was tough. Otherwise she couldn’t stand up to her father, as he’d already figured out, she did often. She could deal with the truth, just like she dealt with him. “Yes. Yes, I have some special connection to it, and who knows what else I don’t know about yet. I won’t let you end up under a microscope because of me. You have access to all the testing being done on the other marked women. You’ll know what you need to know.” He went to her then, bent down on one knee, and rested his hands on hers. “You can’t tell Kelly or anyone else. I was selfish coming to you last night, and I will never forgive myself for that. But I’m telling you right now, I will do anything, and everything, no matter what cost to me, to protect you from any harm from this. This is our secret.”
She hesitated, her expression cloudy, confused, before she nodded. “Yes. Yes okay. It’s our secret.”
He pulled her close, his relief at her agreement little comfort, knowing that there was no known weapon, no GTECH skill, no drug that could undo what he’d done. He’d just changed Cassandra’s life forever.
CHAPTER THREE
Cassandra stood at the grill on her back patio, while Michael scavenged in the kitchen for some manly utensil he couldn’t do without. It was an unseasonably warm day in November, six months since that day the mark had appeared on her neck, and she felt exactly the same as before it had appeared. But their relationship had not stayed the same—their bond was stronger, the
passion, their need, so intense she could taste him on her lips just by thinking of him, feel his approach in the tingle on the back of her neck. This bond was something all the marked couples shared and the reason the scientific team now called the bonded males and females “Lifebonds,” to signify a marriage by nature. But since the lifebond research had been classified beyond her clearance several months earlier, she knew little else. Ironically though, Michael’s seemingly intense need to conceal their lifebonding from the rest of the world didn’t leave him much room to protect her from the monster he considered himself.
“Step aside,” Michael ordered from behind, a moment before he stepped to the edge of the grill with a fork the size of Texas in his hand, his long raven hair bristling in the light breeze.
“Oh, good grief.” She laughed. “That thing belongs on a battlefield, not at the grill.” She’d barely gotten the words out when several cold raindrops splattered on her face. She eyed the dark line of clouds hovering above, ready to explode on their little outdoor adventure at any moment. She cast Michael a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you can handle the rain like you do the wind, and you just haven’t told me yet?”
“No, but I cook a mean steak,” he said, patting her blue-jean-shorts-clad backside. “And if I don’t get them inside on the stove before the downpour, you might have to discover that talent another day.”
Her stomach rumbled with the promise of a good meal, and she rushed into action by his side, grabbing the wine and two long-stemmed crystal glasses sitting on the steel patio table. Both the wine and the glasses were gifts from Michael, made more thoughtful and wonderful because they came after he’d learned she had a thing for trying new wines. Turned out, his mother had as well. It was one of the few tidbits about his family she’d managed to get out of him. But one day, she vowed, she’d unveil all the hidden pieces of the puzzle that was Michael.
He headed toward the door with the steaks loaded on top of a foil-covered pan, but on second thought, stepped backwards and snatched the Texas-sized fork off the grill. “Can’t leave without my weapon,” he teased, a smile lifting his lips a moment before he disappeared inside the house.
Cassandra stared after him, that smile warming her, telling her the walls were coming down, one by one. That only made the guilt she felt about keeping a secret from him all the more intense. Several months before, when tensions had risen between X2 positives and negatives on a mission, her father had sealed all the test results so that none of the soldiers knew who was positive and who was negative. But she knew Michael was on that X2 positive list, just like she knew what it would do to him if he ever found out.
Not long after the base had cleared for the evening, Powell walked through the animal lab, inspecting the cages riddled with dead, X2-positive animals after they’d finished attacking each other. He couldn’t believe this had happened after he’d finally received the phone call he’d been campaigning for since before the first GTECH injection had been given—an invitation to the White House by the secretary of state. The president and chiefs of staff were pleased with the GTECH program and had high hopes for both it and Powell. But they wanted to be absolutely confident that the program could not backfire in their faces. It was his chance to show he was one of the great leaders of this country. But now there was this X2 gene problem.
“Their behavior,” Dr. Chin said from behind him, “was not only widespread, but sudden and unexpected. This supports the theory of a trigger setting them off. There is no indicator of what that might be.”
Powell’s gaze lingered on one of the cages before he turned to face Dr. Chin, director of science and medicine for Project Zodius. Dr. Chin had proven to be admirably ambitious and loyal beyond the expectations of his employment by the U.S. government. “Who else knows about this?”
“Myself and my assistant, Ava Lane. The rest of the staff had already left for the day.”
Powell eyed the curvy redhead on the other side of the glass panel as she studied a slide under a microscope; she’d made it onto his radar for more than her sultry looks. Ava had masterminded a blood exchange between one of the marked women and her male partner. The result was that the woman converted to GTECH without using the limited supply of serum.
Powell cut Chin a sideways look. “And Dr. Peterson?” he asked, well aware that Kelly Peterson often lunched with his daughter.
“Left shortly before the animals’ erratic behavior began. I thought you’d want to know before anyone else.”
“As it should be,” Powell approved. “No one else knows.” Especially his daughter. Cassandra had done her job as he knew she would—meticulously reporting the soldiers’ mental capacities as slightly aggressive within normal ranges, despite her warnings this could change. A detail that had pleased the White House, but defied what he saw before him today in these X2 animals. She wouldn’t understand why her tests were not enough. He motioned to the cages. “Do what you have to so that it remains that way. Is there any more ‘kick in the teeth’ news you care to share, Chin?”
“Not only is the marked female converted to GTECH, but the female will become X2 positive if her Lifebond is X2 positive. Early stage laboratory studies support a hypothesis that the ‘Lifebonds’ become capable of reproducing once the blood exchange is complete, though the men were previously infertile.”
“Fabulous,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So now we can breed X2 monsters. That should please the White House.” He walked toward the cages, scrubbing his palm across his face, all too aware he was backed into a corner. The X2s were simply too big a potential liability to be ignored. There was only one way to avoid long-term confinement of the X2s, and he knew it. Red Dart. Created by an alien crystal, the laser inserted a chemical into the target’s bloodstream, allowing for both tracking and control by torture. It had been confiscated from an alien shipwreck some fifty years ago, but was never successfully manifested for use. When he’d seen the writing on the wall—that human law was no means to manage inhuman soldiers—he’d covertly confiscated the research.
He rotated to face Chin. “We’re using Red Dart. Now. Today. I don’t care how risky, how potentially fatal. I don’t care. Just make it work.”
“Science does not take orders, General,” Chin said. “Nor will it be rushed. Again, as I’ve told you numerous times, Red Dart was designed for humans, not GTECHs. And even in humans, it’s killing the carrier rather than torturing them. The GTECHs are another story. Death isn’t my concern—they heal too rapidly. It’s the application. Their immune systems destroy the tracking dart before it ever hits the bloodstream, which is necessary for it to function properly. It’s worthless until I figure out how to trick their immune systems into seeing Red Dart as part of its normal operating system.”
Silently, Powell cursed, using every profane word in the dictionary. And some that were not. Outwardly, he remained cool, collected. “If I double your funding, how soon can it be ready?”
“A year,” Chin said quickly. “Maybe longer. Too long, considering we have no idea what set off the violence in these animals to begin with. The X2 positive soldiers could do the same thing at any given moment.”
The words ground through Powell’s stomach. Every fucking thing he’d worked for could be flushed down the toilet over this. “You’re certain it’s X2 related?” he asked.
“I am of the belief that all GTECHs are the unknown and thus volatile,” Chin said. “Exactly why I’m willing to work on Red Dart. But specifically,” he motioned to the cages, “this threat is directly linked to the X2 gene.”
Confining those X2s, a group of nearly invincible soldiers, would take strategic planning, substantial manpower, and a creative story prepared for the secretary of state. His mind ran down a path that twisted and turned. Thankfully, the soldiers had never been told about the X2 gene, so there would be no connecting the dots. He’d tell the X2s they were being reassigned for further alien enhancements and given a new serum to make them
bigger and stronger. They’d go willingly, then be lured to containment cells under the guise of protecting the medical personnel from potential side effects. The secretary of state would be pleased they were moving to another level of development with Zodius. This would buy him time.
A smile touched his lips. There was a reason he was headed for the White House. No challenge was too great.
Adam Rain lurked in the shadows of the parking lot outside the launch pad leading to the underground Groom Lake facility as the elevator opened and Ava exited. His eyes followed the sultry strut of her hips as she approached, admiring her long legs. She was the woman who secretly wore his mark. The woman who would one day, when the time was right, bear his child, a child who would be the future leader of a new superpower, the Zodius Nation. It would be a nation free of weakness and crude, human diseases. Adam’s nation. And that day was almost here.
Ava approached, and Adam pulled her hard into his arms, his hand molding her soft, hot body against his, and kissed her, feeding the wild hunger inside himself before tearing his mouth from hers. “What was so urgent it could not wait? Or were you simply urgent to feel me inside you again, my little Ava?”
Her hands pressed to his chest, her eyes wide with urgency. “It’s Powell.” She panted past the kiss. “He’s afraid of the X2 positives. He plans to imprison them.”
Anger ripped through him. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” she said, her eyes sparking with matching anger.