MARCUS (Dragon Security Book 4) (6 page)

Cadence

I was shivering so hard that it woke me from a sound sleep. I sat up, tugging the blankets closer to me.

“It would be better if we lay together.”

His voice was deeper, the cold clearly getting to him, too.

“Is there enough wood on the fire?”

“It’s burning as high as it’s going to get. It’s just really cold outside.”

I got up, stumbling across the room to look out the windows. The snow was still falling, adding to the two or three feet that had already fallen. The snow was up over the tires on his SUV now and was still rising.

He came up behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “I know you don’t know me and I don’t really know you, but we’ll freeze to death if we don’t keep each other warm.”

“Why do you have a gun?”

I hadn’t really meant to blurt it out like that, but it just kind of came out on its own. I felt his hands stiffen against my shoulders, his fingers digging into my flesh. Then he pulled back, turning to the chair where he’d left his jacket. He lifted the contraption clear, pulling the gun free of its holster, checking it before holding it out by the muzzle to me.

“It’s for protection.”

“What do you do that you need that sort of protection?”

He gestured with the gun. “Take it if it makes you nervous.”

“I don’t like guns.”

He pulled it back, running his thumb over the muzzle before placing it back in the holster.

“I work for a security firm. I offer protection to clients.”

“Seriously?”

“I’ve been doing it for a month now. It’s new and I’m not really that good at it.”

“What are you doing up here, then?”

“Taking a break. Running away from my mistakes.”

He set the gun back over the chair, covering it again with his thin leather jacket. I watched him, wondering why he felt the need to hide it now. Or why he’d hidden it in the first place.

“Do you know Blake Zimmerman?” I asked as an idea popped into my head.

“The football player?”

“Yeah.”

“Just by reputation.”

There was something about the way he said it that made me think he was lying. But there was also something sincere about the way he was looking at me.

“It’s cold. Why don’t we get in the bed together?” He raised his eyebrows. “I promise I won’t try anything inappropriate.”

I shivered again, pulling the blanket I’d brought off the bed with me closer around my shoulders. What choice did I have?

I nodded, leading the way to the bed. He grabbed his pillow and blankets from the couch, following close behind me. It was a little awkward at first, trying to figure out how to arrange our bodies and the blankets, trying to figure out where to put hands and feet, legs and arms. Finally, he just sort of spooned me, a thin blanket between his body and mine. Then he pulled the other blankets over the top of us burying us like some sort of cocoon.

“Comfortable?”

I nodded, trying not to think about his hand resting on the lower portion of my belly or his arm under my head. I tried not to think about his hard chest against my back or his hips pressed into my ass. And I really tried not to wonder what he thought about this, if he was having any of the same problems concentrating on anything other than our bodies like I was.

We lay there in silence for a long time. I was warm, finally. Almost too warm.

“She looked like you a little,” he suddenly said.

“Who?”

“The one who cheated on me. She didn’t have auburn hair like yours, but she had green eyes like yours. And a misleading innocence about her face.”

“You loved her?”

“With everything I had. But she left me at a time when I needed her more than ever. I think…maybe it went one way. Maybe she’d only loved what I could
give
to her, not
me
.”

“I understand that.”

“Yeah?”

“I thought I was in love once. But when he realized I wasn’t interested in investing in his crazy ideas, he left me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I think we all deserve love. I think we all deserve someone willing to put us first. And I believe that if I’m patient, I’ll find that one meant for me.”

“Like soul mates?”

“Not exactly. But close.”

“I don’t. I believe that we are drawn to each other because of the things we have to offer one another. I just need to find someone who wants more than what Kelly wanted.”

“Maybe.”

His hand moved against my belly. I wasn’t sure if it was a caress, exactly, but it was nice.

I wondered about this Kelly, wondered what it was he liked most about her. Did he see those things in me? Was it possible…? But he had a gun. And a secret. I could feel it deep in my belly. There was something about him, something not quite right. He was hiding something and that something could destroy my sense of wellbeing. I just…I knew it.

He drew me a little closer to him, and then rested his head on the pillows he’d fluffed up under out heads. In a moment, I heard him slowly drift off to sleep, heard his breathing change, and felt the tension slowly leave his body. I took the opportunity to move deeper against him, closing my eyes as I pretended he was holding me because he wanted to, not because we were stuck in the middle of a snowstorm.

I began to drift off to sleep, too, but my thigh began to ache. The doctor had said there was bruising to the muscles and it would hurt for a while. But this ache was one that felt as though nothing could ever soothe it. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore it.

The memory of the shooting began to play out in my mind: the back glass of my car imploding, and the shower of glass bursting around me. And then, like in slow motion, I turned, my eyes seeking out the source of the explosion. The car, a little four-door sedan, dark green, driving surprisingly slow as the driver pointed a gun toward me. Sunglasses on his face. Big sunglasses, like the kind a woman in the sixties or seventies might have worn. They covered his face, but I could see his hair, that dark blond that was like browned butter in a skillet. And the wide jaw…like the man sitting at the bar, the cute one who was clearly broken, a man fresh out of the military. And that man had the most intense blue eyes…

Fuck!

That’s how I knew him! That’s why he seemed so familiar!

I pushed at his arm and tried to pull away, but he was sleeping heavily, his arm weighing a ton where it rested over my side. I sat up, shoving him away from me, rushing away from the bed. He woke as I grabbed his gun, fear tearing through me. What was he doing here? What did he want from me?

“What are you doing?”

I ran to the door and he was out of the bed, grabbing me just as I managed to get the door open. There was snow on the deck that surrounded the cabin, blocking the door, but I shoved my full weight against it, pushing it back. He had my arms, but I managed to break free, running out into the snow. Barefoot. I hadn’t really thought this out, I just knew I had to get away from him.

The Escape was under the carport, protected from the worst of the snow. But there was nearly a yard of deep snow between it and me.

“Cadence!” he called. “You’ll freeze to death!”

I didn’t answer him, but fear rushed through me at the realization that he’d said my name. I’d never told him my name.

Why did he know my name?

I ran, slipping on the ice, the wet snow, and fell as I rushed over the edge of the deck too fast, missing the steps that were buried in the snow. I fell forward into a high bank, lost in a sea of white before I realized the mistake I’d made.

I was going to die. But I’d rather die in the snow than to have him do whatever he’d come to do.

Marcus

I went back inside to grab my shoes and jacket, deciding one of us should avoid frostbite if at all possible. By the time I got back out the door, she’d disappeared.

“Cadence!”

She didn’t answer.

I followed her footprints on the deck, the hole she left in the snow bank up against the side of the cabin. I climbed down, careful to watch my footing, searching for her in the snow like searching for a spider in a pile of dark yarn. But my hand brushed a piece of cloth and I grabbed hold of it, twisting it around my hand before I yanked her up. She was unconscious, her lips blue.

“Damn stupid thing to do!”

I carried her inside, holding her close in the hope that my body heat would have some effect on her. Once in the house, I slammed the door, locking it against the weather, and then set her on the edge of the couch in front of the fire. She fell over, her body convulsing as it tried to warm her. The fire was as high as it was going to get, but it wasn’t putting off nearly enough heat to warm her as quickly as she needed to be warmed. The bathtub seemed the only choice.

I only hoped that the pipes hadn’t frozen.

Fortunately, the cabin had a gas water heater and the water warmed quickly. I set it at about body temperature, not wanting to heat her so fast that it would shock her heart. When the tub was full, I went back to her, hesitating as I studied her. She was still unconscious. There wasn’t time for modesty.

I carefully undressed her, lifting her oversized tee over her head and carefully pulling her shorts from her hips. I ignored my body’s instant reaction to the sight of her, to the closeness of her when I lifted her and carried her to the bath. She moaned as I carefully slid her into the water, her head rolling back on her spine like one of those bobble heads that people like to put in their cars. I set her head back against the side of the tub, careful not to hurt her. Then I grabbed a rag out of the bathroom and carefully began to rub her frozen skin back to life.

She came to after about ten minutes, jerking forward and taking a big gasp of breath as though she’d drowned instead of froze. Then she looked at me, her eyes wide with fright.

“What are you doing?”

“Cadence, you were near frozen—”

“How do you know my name?”

Her voice was low, filled with fright. I tried to touch her hand, but she pulled away. And then she became aware of her nudity and immediately rolled up into a ball.

“I was just trying to warm you up. You fell into a snow bank.”

“I know what I did.”

“You could have frozen to death. Gotten frostbite.”

“Maybe that was preferable to being in the same cabin with the man who shot at me!”

“Cadence—”

“How do you know my name? We never exchanged names. You never told me your name.”

“I’m Marcus.”

She shook her head. “I don’t care who you are. I want to know how you know me.”

I studied her face, running my options around in my head. I could tell her the truth and risk losing my job. Or I could lie and risk causing her to run out the door again.

I got up and grabbed a towel out of the bathroom.

“Why don’t you get dressed first? Then we’ll talk.”

She dragged her fingers through her hair, pressing the moisture against each strand. Then she looked at me.

“What choice do I have?”

I held the towel out between both hands. I refused to look away and she refused to pretend she didn’t know what I was doing. She stood, the water rushing away from her body as she did. Her nipples were standing erect, nearly pointing toward the ceiling. There were goose pimples all along her belly, her arms and legs. Just below her navel was another tattoo, this one a tiny heart that was shaded red and pink. Her hips flared out, her thighs rounded and perfectly toned. And then her beautiful cunt, the hair carefully trimmed.

She was beautiful. My heart was pounding as I stared at her, my body responding to hers in a way it hadn’t done in a long time. There were women, but this…there was more than attraction going on here and it scared me a little.

I wrapped the towel around her and picked her up, carrying her over to the bed. I wrapped her in blankets as she began to shiver.

“You need to warm up.”

“I need to know what the hell is going on!”

Her eyes were snapping with anger, but she was shivering so hard that I knew she’d go into hyperthermia very quickly. I had to do something.

I pushed her back against the mattress even as she began to protest, her hands pressed against my chest. I grabbed her wrists and trapped her hands over her head. Then I lay my body on top of hers, trapping her underneath me.

“Get off me!”

“You’re cold, Cadence. I’m just trying to warm you up.”

“I’m not that cold!”

But she was shivering hard enough that the bed was vibrating. I tugged away the blankets that were between us, pulling them over my own shoulders so that my body was directly against hers. She was struggling, moving against me, and it wasn’t really doing me any good. My cock was hard as a rock and her movements were just making it impossible to control. Or hide. Her hips came up against me and she suddenly went as still as a statue.

We lay there like that for a long few minutes. She smelled so good, her wet hair releasing the rose and lavender fragrance of her shampoo, her skin giving off the soft, sweet scent of whatever she put on her skin, whatever made her smell so incredibly good. I wanted to kiss her, my lips were so close to her neck. I wanted to taste her, to nibble at her throat like she was the best food ever placed in front of me. I wanted to devour her.

I lay very still, afraid if I moved, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.

“Did you do it?” she asked softly. “Did you shoot at me?”

“Yes,” I whispered softly. “But I never meant for you to get hurt.”

She groaned as she pressed her head backward into the mattress. Tears spilled from her eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No.”

She looked at me, fear making her eyes wild. “Why? Why are you here? Why did you shoot at me? What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why?”

I let go of her wrists. I could feel the tension in her body and I knew she wouldn’t fight me anymore. She was too frightened. Too confused.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was trying to scare you, that’s all.”

“Why? Why would it matter to you?”

I brushed a couple of tears from her cheek. “It’s not about you.”

“Then what?”

“Blake. It’s about Blake.”

She pushed at my shoulders, tried to get me off of her, but I lay still, refusing to budge. “Why would scaring me do anything to hurt Blake? Why would you think that doing that would do anything to him?”

“He wants a kid and you’re his only option at the moment.”

“So you thought scaring me off—”

“It would hurt him.”

“You want to hurt him?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

I brushed my hand over the side of her face, trying to remember what I’d been thinking when I aimed that gun at her car and fired. She’d moved the wrong way. I expected her to drop to the ground, not fall into the front seat. That’s how the bullet grazed her leg. She was lucky it was so low or it might have gone right through her thigh muscle. Not what I’d wanted.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m just, what, collateral damage?”

“Something like that.”

She smacked my shoulder. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She hit me again, tears beginning to flow down her face again. “Asshole,” she moaned, sobs coming with tears. I grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the mattress again. She was no longer shivering, but her lips were still tinged blue. And those lips… I kissed her. I hadn’t meant to, but I couldn’t seem to make logic come back into my head. She was naked and she was upset and her hips kept doing this thing against mine and…Megan wasn’t here. What did she know about the line of professionalism?

I kissed her like I hadn’t kissed a woman in years. And she kissed me back, her mouth pressed to mine, her lips parting ever so slightly, welcoming me inside. My heart leapt into my throat, my breath becoming her breath. She tasted like everything I’d imagined she would and more, tasted like all the things that were right about the world. Our tongues danced and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt quite this alive.

She pulled a hand free and slipped it down over my back, sneaking her fingers under my shirt. She touched my side, touched the space between each of my ribs. And then her hand moved lower, touching the space just above my hip. When her fingers began to play with the waistband of my jeans, I knew she was mine if I wanted her.

I nibbled at her throat, listened to the soft moans that slipped from her lips. I cupped one of her breasts and bent to run my tongue over her nipple. She cried out, arching her back so that I was forced to take as much of her nipple as possible in my mouth. That was fine. I loved the way the erectile tissue felt caught between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I gave the other nipple equal time, suckling at it softly, making her moan again.

And then she gave me her mouth, her hot breath blowing over my face, her tongue making itself known inside of me. She was a good girl on the outside, but she was a firecracker when she was going after something she wanted. And I knew she wanted me. She left no doubt in the way her tongue possessed me, in the way her hand tugged at my jeans, trying to get inside, trying to touch me in places she couldn’t with that denim prison intact.

I slid my hand over her thigh, tugged at it, lifting her leg high to expose that luscious cunt that was hidden between our bodies. I needed her. Wanted her. I reached between our bodies and, just as I was about to free my hard cock, she pushed me back.

“We can’t,” she said, a dark blush burning across her cheeks.

“What?”

“We can’t. I’m…” She was breathing hard, her hands still playing with the top edge of my jeans. But then she turned her head, a single tear spilling down her cheek. “I’m taking hormones for the insemination. Unless you want to be a father in nine months…”

I groaned. I’d forgotten about the whole surrogate thing.

I licked away that tear and kissed her again.

“There are other things.”

Her eyes widened in that way they did when she was surprised. Or angry. Or frightened. I just smiled as I slowly began to work my way down her body.

Nipples…damn, they tasted so good! But so did the soft flesh over her ribs, the tender flesh of her stomach. A little dip in her belly button, a nibble at that little heart low on her belly. Slowly I slipped further down, sliding off of the bed, urging her thighs apart. I ran my tongue along her outer lips, listening to her soft sighs. I lifted her ankles, braced her feet on the edge of the bed, spreading her cunt just by spreading her legs.

Her clit was poking its little head out of its hood. I touched it gently with the tip of my finger. I thought she might jump off the bed, or she might tear my hair clear off my head. Her fingers were wrapped in the short tresses that were growing out of my buzz cut, pulling me close to her. I happily allowed her to direct me, burying my mouth against her gorgeous lips. Then I slid my tongue carefully between them, causing her to buck her hips, her fingers tugging me closer against her.

I found her clit again and took it into my mouth, rolling it around until she tugged me back with those trusty fingers. I used my own fingers to fill her, to feel the heat and moisture of her need. She moaned, writing on the bed as I administered to her needs, my own need growing with her obvious pleasure. I loved that she was enjoying my touch, loved that she wasn’t so shy about her need that she couldn’t show me what she wanted. I liked a woman who knew that pleasure was a two-way street.

She was growing close. I could feel it in her movements. I ran my thumb over her clit and I thought she might jump out of her skin. I wanted to taste her kiss again. I wanted to see her face as the ultimate pleasure burst through her. I climbed back onto the bed, and she was ready, her lips softly parted as she watched me. She rolled into me as I lay back, stealing my lips. We kissed, the heat between us only building. I slid my fingers over her clit, pressed two inside of her and felt her writhe against me, grinding her cunt against my hand. And her hands…she pressed both hands under the waistband of my jeans, wrapping one hand around the length of my cock as the other sought out my balls. I cried out against her mouth as she found them, her fingers doing the most incredible thing as she rolled them, playing with them like they were a bag of marbles, but her touch gentle and kind, sensual in a way I’d never experienced before.

We moved together there on the bed in the middle of a blizzard like two teenagers copping a feel in the back of Mom’s station wagon. I’d not done anything like this since I was fifteen. But I couldn’t argue with the way it felt.

Her hands stopped moving when her orgasm hit, just the one squeezing my cock like it was a safety bar on a roller coaster. I brushed her hands away, using the moisture of her need as lubricant, finishing what she’d begun. There was nothing more beautiful than the sight of her face twisted with pleasure, or the sight of my relief moist on her breasts.