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Authors: Juliana Stone

His Darkest Hunger (12 page)

BOOK: His Darkest Hunger
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He was Jaxon’s double, and a slow grin fell across the handsome face, illuminating the similarities but also highlighting the differences.

His eyes were incredible, not the dark black of his brother’s, but even through the glass she could see the electric green. It was a devastating combination when paired with his dark hair and deeply tanned skin. She could also see the beginnings of a similar tattoo that graced the left side of his neck, but it disappeared beneath his tight black T-shirt.

A low growl grabbed her attention, and her eyes slammed into the furious gaze that Jaxon directed at her. He said something to the man with the green eyes, and Green Eyes laughed outright. This seemed to piss Jaxon off even more and he jumped to his feet.

The table erupted into chaos, with everyone standing and shouting, but not the green-eyed devil. His eyes pulled at hers and she found herself smiling back at him.

“Enough!”

Jaxon’s deep voice rang out, and silence once more reigned supreme.

Tension emanated from within the group at the table. At some point the rhythm and tone had changed. All the men were now scowling, and Ana retreated to the kitchen, gathering up the mess on the counter.

Jaxon’s face was as black as she’d ever seen it, and she looked away, suddenly frightened by the ferocious set to his features.

A phone rang then, its shrill tone grating as it loudly pierced the air. The tall stranger, so like Jaxon, moved quickly, bearing the same grace and stealth. Her eyes followed his movements until her view was blocked by the long muscular legs of the man she’d been trying to avoid.

She refused to meet his eyes, and pointedly tried to look around him. He had other plans, and knelt down in front of her. Still, she kept her eyes lowered and tried not to notice how his large frame enveloped the chair, effectively locking her between his two legs.

Tried,
being the key word, and one that wasn’t successful.

Her eyes skimmed the powerful muscles that flexed underneath his faded jeans, and his scent crowded her, awakening an ache that struck hard and fast.

“My brother is off limits. Don’t even think of using your assets to sway him.” His breath was hot on her cheeks as he moved in closer, his words meant to insult. “He knows you’re damaged goods.”

Heat flushed through her body and she inhaled sharply at the hurtful slam. Her chest began to pound as her heart sped up.

“Go fuck yourself.” The words slipped from between her lips of their own accord. Even she was shocked at them, but tried not to let it show.

 

Jaxon felt his temper knocking hard and he wanted nothing more than to let it fly. Instead he took a
few seconds and calmed himself. He grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes up until his dark ones held hers prisoner. “You’ve done that to me, Libby, many times over. You’ll not hurt another Castille as long as there is breath in my body.”

He shoved her away from him and stood quickly.

Her wounded eyes affected him more than he would like to admit, but the fury that clawed at him incited the jaguar to a point of violence that was almost overwhelming. He snarled at the thought of Jagger anywhere near Libby.

He stalked back to the table, head swiveling toward his brother as he came back into the room. Jagger was tense, his features closed.

“I have to hit the road, Jax,” he said. “I was wondering if it would be all right for Cracker to ride along with me. Something’s come up and I could use his expertise. I know you have your hands full with this situation and all.”

Jaxon studied his younger brother, not liking the light tone he’d adopted. It was in direct contrast to the black energy that haloed him like a blanket. Some deep shit was about to hit the fan.

For both Castille brothers.

“Anything you want to discuss before you leave?”

Jagger smiled wickedly, already heading toward the door. “Nah, I’m good. Just make sure to lock up before you leave.”

As he passed Libby, he ignored the warning growl from behind and leaned over, his impressive bulk responsible for the look of panic that flashed across her face. He grinned wickedly, winked and whispered, loud enough for all to hear, “It’s good to see you, Libs. About time you popped up from off
the grid.” He chuckled softly. “A lot of things have changed, but Jaxon’s still an ass of epic proportions. Don’t take any crap from him.”

He turned then and shot a sly grin at his brother before heading out into the night.

Cracker returned briefly and grabbed a bag before nodding in his general direction. The ex-soldier was pissed at him. That was plain for all to see.

Jaxon shrugged it off. Cracker would get over it.

He watched him closely, his shoulders tensing as the older man leaned down and whispered into Libby’s ear. Christ, he had to get over the whole territorial thing. Libby wasn’t his. Hadn’t been for a long time. Even back in the day, they’d been lovers, sure, but nothing more.

Yeah right
.

Jaxon ignored the silent taunt that rippled through his brain, choosing to focus on other things. He didn’t want to think about Libby anymore. At least, not right now.

The door slammed shut behind Cracker, and suddenly the room seemed too quiet. Declan had gone down to the office, waiting to hear back from his contacts, and Ana was banging around in the kitchen, muttering things he didn’t care to listen to.

Great. Just fucking great. The tension was so thick he could hardly breathe. Darkly, he pinned Libby with furious, bitter eyes.

Ever since that intel landed in his lap, his life had spiraled out of control, and the direction hadn’t been up. He was the kind of man used to being in control of all areas of his life, and damned if this little slip of a blonde was gonna screw him over.

Again.

Her violet eyes shadowed and he felt a splinter of pleasure as she looked away. His eyes held fast, knowing the direct stare was making Libby uncomfortable, and he kept them pasted to her as she walked stiffly past him.

He followed her progress until she disappeared, and then caught the surprised look Ana sent him.

“What?” he barked.

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it without uttering a word. Moving past him, Ana headed toward the office at the other end of the house. “I hope she doesn’t wander away again, considering the dangerous creatures that lurk about these woods,” she said, her voice softening as she added, “I’m fresh out of extra shirts.”

Jaxon scowled darkly but by then he was alone. His body hummed with tension and he wanted nothing more then to become a jaguar and run it off. He swung around, gazing out at the vast stretch of darkness longingly.

Sighing tiredly, he turned and followed Ana’s footsteps. He was hoping they’d each have the answers they were looking for.

He reached the office to find Ana and Declan crouched together in front of the lone computer they’d been left to work with. Everything else had been destroyed in the blast.

Ana looked upset when her eyes finally turned to him.

“This is bad, Jaxon. I don’t know what to make of it. The intel you received can be traced directly back to Drake’s office. A secure channel was used, one that would need the highest security clearance to even gain access.”

Her long hair fell over her eyes, and she pushed it back impatiently. “There are probably only a handful of people with that kind of clearance.”

“Hey, you’re sharing space with one of them.”

Ana looked at Declan in disbelief, “You have level five security clearance? Since when?”

“Since Borneo.”

“Borneo, that was over a year ago. You didn’t tell me your situation with Drake had changed.”

“I didn’t know we reported back to each other, Ana. But now that you know, got something to share in return?”

“Enough, guys. You two are not helping me right now. And since I’m the one who was shot at, I need you both to chill. Any ideas on who sent the intel? Do you think Drake’s involved?”

Ana sighed, shaking her head, “I’ve checked, and from what I can tell, he wasn’t in the building when the intel was sent. But we all know that means nothing.”

Declan cut in, “Either way, we need to go to Washington to investigate.”

Ana piped in as well, “I agree, the sooner the better. I’ll leave tonight.”

Jaxon balked at the thought that his boss was somehow linked to an attempt on his life, but in this business, stranger things had happened.

“Good, then. The both of you will leave tonight, but this has to run under the radar. Right now we don’t know who to trust, and Drake knows the two of you are working with me. You could be walking right into a trap.”

Declan and Ana headed up the stairs, while
Jaxon’s thoughts swirled in several different directions.

Who the hell wanted him dead?

But the bigger question remained: what part did Libby have in all of this? Was she being used by a higher power, or was she actively, willingly, involved in a plot to take him out?

He growled at the thought.

He would give her exactly twenty-four hours to regain her memory.

If it didn’t come back by the time Ana and Declan returned, he’d let the sorcerer have at her.

And God help her if she was complicit.

S
creams woke him from a dead sleep. They tore at him, animalistic squeals and sharp moans of terror.

Jaxon had dozed off on the couch and was up in a flash. He flew down the hall, hesitating outside Libby’s room, confused and disturbed at the raw agony that he heard beyond her door. He sensed no other presence, and after a few moments the screams lessened and then quieted altogether.

He exhaled slowly, on edge and fighting the urge to go to her. He growled in frustration, hating the way she’d managed to crawl underneath his thick skin.

He pictured the scars that laced her back, knowing the suffering that she’d endured, yet still took a step back.

Hands clenched at his sides, he turned away, intending to leave her wallowing in her own misery
and took a few steps way. But he stopped when he heard a thud inside, and then sobbing, which was heart wrenching. He cursed his weakness—he’d always been softer around Libby—as he whirled back around and pushed the door open.

He found Libby curled up tight in the fetal position, on the floor beside her bed. She’d obviously fallen out, but was still deep in the throes of a nightmare. She was clad only in the thin T-shirt Ana had given her and a pair of underwear.

The shirt was soaked with sweat, and long strands of blond hair clung to the moisture at her face and neck. Her body was shaking. Jerks and spasms rocked her limbs, punctuated by a series of deep, guttural moans that sounded as if they were forced from her throat.

He stood still, unsure how to proceed.

She rolled onto her back, eyes open but not seeing him.

She was definitely under the spell of something dark. Her long graceful arms held herself protectively around the midsection and she began to mumble words that erupted into harsh whispers.

“Castille’s whore. Castille’s whore. Castille’s whore.”

Jaxon’s blood turned to ice at the words and he fell to his knees, feeling the heat from her body even though he was careful not to touch her.

She stilled as if sensing a presence beside her, and then her spasms, which had abated, returned, her body quaking with a ferocity that surprised him. His eyes raked her near naked form, and he was disgusted at the sharp spike of desire that flooded his body.

He clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the pull
that she wrenched from him. But it was no use. He cupped Libby around the shoulders with one arm, the other arm under her knees, and pulled her to him. As he lifted her up, she grabbed hold of his neck and clung to him, her thin arms digging into the hardness of his flesh as if the very devil were after her.

Her head lolled back, falling against his chest, and the dark eyes that had never faded from his memory implored him with such anguish, he felt the cracks around his heart widening even more.

“Please help me.”

Gently, Jaxon cradled her there, tight against his heaving chest, feeling every heartbeat her body took, fighting the overwhelming urge to protect and soothe.

It was a losing battle, and he knew it.

This woman that he held, shivering, damaged, weak and traitorous, belonged to him on a level he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He stumbled, the realization nearly bringing him to his knees.

Jaxon Castille, jaguar warrior, felled by someone like Libby Jamieson.

He cursed the irony.

The last three years of his life had been hell. The only thing that had kept him sane and functioning was the intense desire for revenge. The hunt for Libby had remained his number one priority, even as he took the odd mission for Drake. His team had broken up, life pretty much fell apart, but one constant was threaded throughout.

Libby.

He had dreamed of numerous ways to make her
pay for the death of his cousin Diego, all of them painful. He had lain awake so many nights, fighting the desire that ravaged his body at just the thought of her. It mingled equally and freely with a deadly rage that simmered below the surface.

A rage that fed the cat, enticing it into a frenzy of need that drove him, day after day, fueling the hunt.

And look where that got him.

Here he stood, quivering with need, holding onto the woman who’d effectively shredded his life into slices of want, need, and emptiness.

She whimpered softly in his arms, relaxing into the crook between his shoulder and elbow. The frailty of her body inflamed his senses, and he found her hair—so blond and pale against the dark of his skin—incredibly erotic. He groaned as his body reacted, instantly becoming hard.

Her feminine scent colored the air around him, and he inhaled deeply, letting her essence filter through his lungs until it seemed every cell in his body was alive with a craving that bordered on obsession. Savagely, he shook his head, trying to clear the images of their bodies naked, writhing together in passion.

Her arms around his neck tightened even more as she melted into him. Christ, he needed a cold swim in the lake to put out the fire she’d inadvertently started. He looked down at her face, relaxed and deeply ensconced in slumber. The nightmares were gone, for now.

Jaxon glanced behind him, at the door standing open, mocking his stupidity. Then he knelt down on
the mattress. which still held the warmth from her skin, and slid his hard body down until he was on his side, with Libby safely tucked in his embrace.

His dick, inflamed and hard, rested against her back, and he cursed loudly as she sighed and moved her ass against him seductively.

As if she was home.

Fuck, it was gonna be a long night.

 

Soft rays of sunlight fell across her face, caressing cheeks and awakening her psyche.

Libby couldn’t remember ever feeling so warm, settled…almost happy. Deliciously content. She and happy didn’t usually go hand and hand, but there was no denying the way her body felt.

She snuggled closer to the warmth that wrapped itself around her limbs, then froze.

She wasn’t alone.

Her eyes flew open and to a broad expanse of bronzed, hard flesh. The tattoos she found herself staring at were Jaxon’s. They mesmerized her, seeming to be alive. As he inhaled deeply, the images and symbols on his hard chest contracted, giving the illusion of movement.

But why the hell was he in bed beside her?

Her memories from the previous evening were fuzzy, her mind still heavy with sleep. The last thing she remembered clearly was his black eyes looking at her with such contempt that he’d scared her back into the safe confines of the bedroom she was given when she arrived here.

Wherever the hell
here
was.

She tried to push away, but his right arm was at her back, while the left lay at her hip, his large hand
cupped there, almost possessively. With the wall behind her, his large form in front, she was definitely good and trapped. Sighing softly, she basked in the moment, thinking that it all felt, somehow, so right.

She relaxed her limbs, her eyes drinking in the sheer male beauty that lay in every perfect feature before her: from the deeply expressive eyes with the sinfully thick long lashes to the wide jaw that encased the most amazingly kissable lips she’d ever seen on a man.

Not that she remembered many, but she knew that if she had the ability to remember a thousand different faces, Jaxon Castille’s would end up on top. Even though he scared the crap out of her most of the time, there was no denying the fact that the man was incredibly hot.

Volcanic hot, to be exact.

The eyes she’d been fantasizing about opened without warning, pinning hers with a hard, direct glare that set her insides on fire. Suddenly, nerve endings that she hadn’t known existed roared to life and her entire body was suffused with heat. She felt her nipples harden, even as liquid fire melted into the very center of her, erupting into a wall of need.

A throb began in earnest, pulsing low, deep within her body. Her breath quickened and she fought the urge to rub her hips against his hardness. The ache between her legs magnified at the very thought, and Libby blushed, embarrassed at her body’s reaction to someone who made no attempt to hide the dislike he felt for her.

His eyes remained focused, hard and unreadable. She had no clue what he was thinking, but from
the feel of his pulsating length burning against her thigh, she knew he was equally aroused. She groaned softly, and unable to stop herself, rubbed her hips gently against him, loving the feel of his heated flesh against the softness of her own.

He hissed in reaction, and his hands pulled her up along his body until her lips were but inches from his. She could see the white teeth, his tongue languishing between parted lips as he continued to breathe heavily.

“Careful to fan the flames of desire, Libs…I’m not feeling in a gentlemanly frame of mind this morning.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help myself.” Her soft honest words slipped from between her lips without thought. “I want you. I don’t even know why. It’s like my body craves your touch, and the need inside of me is almost painful.”

She heard his rough groan and it only excited her more.

“I feel like I’m finally home.” She felt him still at her words, and she whispered quietly, “Like I’m where I belong.”

Jaxon’s natural scent was like a beacon to the wildly fluttering heart that pumped blood through her veins furiously. She wanted to bury her nose against his throat, inhale the heady musk, and acting purely on the animalistic needs that clawed at her, that’s exactly what she did.

Libby closed her eyes and nuzzled against the pulse that pounded at the base of his neck. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and she licked the delicious pressure point, delighting in the feel of power as his life force rushed through his veins with
each powerful beat of his heart. He threw his head back, his arms holding her to him tightly, and she nipped playfully before slowly trailing a path of butterfly kisses up along his jaw until she reached the lips that were awakening incredibly erotic images in her mind.

She paused, her eyes seeking the deep brown of his, and as they met, the fire that raged inside her intensified, and he grabbed her to him, his mouth plundering the softness of her own, his tongue invading, commanding.

Libby opened up to him fully, not caring about anything other than the man who’d awakened such a need, such a desire, that she didn’t think the fire would ever be extinguished. Her nipples were fully engorged, the sensitive peaks aching from the friction of the cloth of the T-shirt and the hardness of his chest.

She groaned loudly as his mouth left hers, to trail a path of molten lava down her neck. He sniffed along the side, sending scattered shards of desire to flicker over the supersensitive area, and when he began to suckle the flesh directly under her ear, Libby felt a rush of warm wet honey spill from between her legs.

Anxiously, she began to move against him, her body finding a rhythm long denied, and one that it recognized even if she didn’t.

She felt his arms wrap themselves around her tightly, and the growl that erupted from deep within his chest vibrated through her, electrifying already taut nerves to an unheard of level of desire. He pulled her into his embrace, twisting until he was flat on his back and she lay panting, sprawled on
top. Libby stilled then, and slowly brought her legs up until she was straddling his hardness.

Her hands held fast to his chest, pushing her body up and away from the lips that so tantalized her. She watched him through half-lidded eyes, as his own eyes scanned her body, settling hotly on her generous breasts. The T-shirt Ana had given her wrapped itself tightly against the gently rounded globes, accentuating the boldly erect nipples that stood out in sharp relief, begging for his touch.

When his hands reached underneath her T-shirt to caress her belly, Libby hissed in a torturous sigh, ignoring the ache in her side as she lifted her arms straight up, willing him to pull the shirt from her.

His hands were rough, the fingertips callused as he trailed them over her ribs, pausing a moment at the wince of pain as he crossed over her injured bones. Up, his hands traveled. Gently tugging the ends of her T-shirt, he used a bit of extra effort to drag the material over her breasts, and she groaned as he licked his lips in anticipation.

When the soft mounds popped free from their constraints, Jaxon immediately claimed one turgid nipple deep into his hot, wet mouth, while his other hand ripped the T-shirt up and over her head, sending it sailing to the floor in a heap.

Libby’s arms wrapped around Jaxon, encouraging his exploration, needing to feel him in the most basic way a woman could want a man. His mouth blazed a wicked path of heat along her flesh. Deep spirals of desire formed inside her belly as his tongue continued to assault her flesh. The need became intense, and it seemed every cell in her body was starved for his touch.

She was on fire and a rush of blood roared in her ears as he continued to feed upon her flesh.

Each gentle and not so gentle tug to her nipple elicited a wild response that pounded through her body, sending spasms of pleasure that settled into the deep, pulsating core between her legs. The ache was becoming unbearable, and her body began to cream in anticipation.

Wanting what was next.
Needing
to feel Jaxon’s hardness, deep inside, assuaging the ache that only increased as his mouth washed over her body.

She felt his muscles bunch beneath her hands as she ran them over his powerful shoulders and down his back. His mouth began to trail its wicked path away from her breasts, and she arched back, giving him ample room as he explored the valley between them, his tongue lapping at the underside of each heavy breast.

She felt his hard cock between her legs and ground her soft center against it, smiling as he growled and tensed, enjoying the power her body had over his.

“It’s been so long.” The words fell unbidden from her lips, but Libby paid no mind, moaning loudly as her needs became overwhelming.

Jaxon’s hands fell to her hips and held her still even as she tried to move against him. Her eyes flew open and she looked down at him, feeling a sense of abandonment as his own eyes blackened, the whites disappearing, the growl that fell from his lips not wholly human.

BOOK: His Darkest Hunger
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