Passion Awakened (8 page)

“Shayla,” he murmured in her ear, his voice dark, hoarse,
laced with desire—and it was her name that was on his tongue.

Creed’s weight shifted over her and she loved the heavy feel
of his alpha domination. His cock drove into her, bumping her cervix, stroking
her pussy like an incubus who’d stumbled back in time.

He cried out, pumping deep, his arms straining, trembling
beside her head. Her own orgasm hit, catching her off guard and tossing her
into a wild oblivion of pleasure.

A place where light, colors and fantasies collide.

In that other dimension, Shayla couldn’t deny that she’d
give anything, including her soul, if she could somehow freeze that very moment
and hold on to Creed forever.

But what good was a deal with the devil if her demon didn’t
want his freedom from hell.

Chapter Six

An endless tide of cum pumped from Creed’s cock, blazing a
path of white-hot euphoria through his shaft. His body rocked, mind sparked as
he emptied his seed. He closed his eyes and groaned from the bliss that was
loving Shayla.

Spent, Creed rolled onto his back. Shayla clung to him, her
head going to rest on his chest, an anchor through the turbulent waves that
crashed about inside his head.

Hold on.

Let go.

Refrain.

Give in.

Leave.

Stay.

Back and forth, the commands of his conscience had battered
at him for days now to choose.

Stay?

What the hell was he thinking? As an enforcer, no one ever
got away from the FOA. The implant behind his sternum ensured that.

If it hadn’t been for the woman in his arms, Creed would
have surely gone crazy during those first couple of days of withdrawal. But
because of his beautiful Shay… He stroked the soft skin of her upper arm with
his fingertips. Something totally unexpected had leaped into the madness
stewing inside his head.

“I do really love it here,” he said, surprised he’d actually
said the words out loud.

Shayla stirred. “This has always been a special place to me.”
She dragged her leg along the top of his, caressing him with her smooth calf.
God, he loved it when she did that.

“That’s not what I mean.”

Pushing up on her forearms, Shayla faced him. “What did you
mean?”

“I mean…” He clenched his molars, yanked his chin up and
away from her curious eyes. The words perched on the tip of his tongue, his
life teetering on the cliff’s edge that would change his destiny. Creed drew in
a deep breath.
Fuck it.
He knew what he wanted. Only his stubborn pride
had kept him from bringing the decision into light. He hadn’t wanted to concede
and join in chorus to what Thomas and the other rebels had been shouting for
years. Like them, Creed didn’t desire a life in the twenty-seventh century
anymore.

“I’m saying I love it here with you, Shay, in the
twenty-first century.”

As if he’d stung her, Shayla sprang up, grabbed her clothes,
and ran in the direction of the path back to the cabin.

“Shayla!” Creed quickly repositioned himself back inside his
zipper. He’d been so starved to be inside her earlier, he’d never removed his
jeans.

He grabbed his shirt, launched from the blanket, and took
off after her. From behind, he watched as she weaved her way back up the trail,
doing a crazy kind of half-dress-half-walk dance.

“Shayla,” he called out again. “Wait.” Creed was gaining on
her, but she kept going.

A few seconds later, he came up alongside her. They’d made
it back to the steps of the cabin in half the time. “Shay. Talk to me.” She
didn’t answer. Instead, she marched up to the porch and through the door. What
the hell?

Creed followed and found her at the bar, hands braced on the
surface. “I’ll go back for the other stuff later,” she said, her breathing
harsh.

“I don’t think that’s our biggest problem here.” He closed
some of the distance between them. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She still had her
back to him, but judging by the sound of her breathing, she fought back
emotion.

Finally, she whirled about, dark-brown eyes shimmering with
unshed tears. “That was so cruel what you said back there.”

As if he’d been slapped by her words, his head spun, ears
rang. “What? That I loved being here with you? How was that cruel?”

“Because, it’s like you’re giving me the greatest gift, then
ripping it out of my hands.” The dam broke and tears fell unchecked down her
cheeks. She lunged forward with both hands and thumped them against his chest,
shoving him back. “You’re rubbing salt into a wound. You can’t stay here!”

Creed stumbled but regained his balance. That’s when he felt
it. To confirm, he placed his hand over his sternum. A slight vibration buzzed
under his palm. Her push would have never activated it, only a bizarre
coincidence. But there was no doubt.

They were coming.

He had to act. Fast.

“What if I can?” the words tumbled from his lips before he
knew where he was going.

“What?” Shayla retreated a step and shook her head, dark
locks brushing her shoulder. “Is that possible?”

“Maybe.” He rubbed the reminder behind his breastbone.

“Don’t do this, Creed. If it’s only about what you think you
feel after our time together.” She spun on her heels and aimed toward her
bedroom.

What the hell did that mean?
Creed followed. “Of
course what happened here with us has influenced me. How could it have not?”

At the edge of her bed, Shayla whirled around. “I just don’t
want to be the reason you leave everything you’ve known, everything that you
are behind.” She came forward and trailed her fingertips along his cheek. “I’m
your first. It’s all been so intense—incredible, and I would give anything to
have more time with you, to see where this could go. But what if after all the
excitement fades you find you don’t feel the way you do now?” Shayla pulled her
hand back, her fingers curling into a fist. “You could end up hating me.”

Creed grasped her fist and pulled her into him. Both hands
went to her head, and he sank his fingers into her hair. God, he loved the
silken feel of the strands against his skin.

“Shayla Murphy, let’s get one thing straight. I could never
hate you.” She blinked, and another tear fell unchecked from her lashes, the
sight twisting his gut. He brushed it away with his thumb. “Second, I don’t
care what time we would have met in, the twenty-first century, or a thousand
years from now, I know without a doubt I would feel exactly the same about you
as I do today.”

“And how do you feel, Creed Donovan?” Her words were barely
audible, as if she weren’t sure she wanted to ask the question.

“That you are the most amazing woman. Compassionate, strong,
loving, not to mention beautiful—and sex or no sex, Shay,” he closed his eyes,
searching for the elusive strength to stay the emotion in his voice, “I’d give
anything for more time with you.”

Her breath hitched. “Oh God, Creed. The sacrifice you’d have
to make…”

He couldn’t hold back, Creed wrapped his arms around her,
needed the feel of her heart beating next to his. “It’s mine to make.” He
smoothed her hair with his palm. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Pushing back against his shoulders, Shayla lifted her head. “But
how will this work? You said a few days ago that trackers would be coming for
you. You’re an enforcer, and I can only imagine if you came after one citizen
who wanted a life without Sustain, what the hunt will be for one of their own.”

Creed lifted her chin, bringing her face to his. “You’re a
smart lady.” He smiled. “And you wonder why I’d make such a choice.”

He dropped his hand and twisted away, going to the window in
her room that faced the rear of the property. The woods were dense there. Dark
and untouched. If only getting lost in there with Shay would be that easy to
escape the team coming for him.

“Making the choice to stay is the simple part.” He glanced
back over his shoulder. Shayla had perched onto the edge of the bed and rubbed
her palms along the top her denim-clad thighs. “Warping through time is a
constant part of an enforcer’s job. For safety we’re implanted with a locater.
It ensures that we can be retrieved if we’re in trouble and not get left
behind, possibly affecting the timeline.”

“Where?” Shayla stood, easing closer.

“Here.” Creed tapped his sternum. “Underneath the
breastbone, so it’s protected from damage or tampering.”

“So they have a beacon they’re following at this very
minute? I know you said you had to stay put.”

“Yes, I needed to remain as close to my last warp signature
as possible. It makes it much easier when following the locator beacon if your
target is near his last known location. Warping a mode of transportation into a
century only increases the risk of contamination to that time. But they’ll do
what it takes to bring me back. Once activated, no matter where I am, a team
can home in on my signal.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘once activated’?”

“A team won’t be sent for retrieval until an enforcer’s
locater is activated. That happens after they’ve been out of contact for more
than two weeks without a return warp.”

“Oh jeez!” Shayla whipped around, headed to her closet, and
flung open the door. “We’ve got to get out of here and find someone to remove
that thing.” She pulled a large suitcase from the top shelf and plopped it onto
the bed.

“That’s not going to be easy. We can’t go to a doctor, Shay.”

“Damn!” She glanced up. “You’re right. What in the hell
would we tell them? Oh, excuse me. My friend here is from the future and needs
to have a locater removed from his chest.” She crinkled her nose. “Not going to
work so much.”

Creed edged over to the bed next to her. “Even if we could,
you have to keep in mind, this thing,” he tapped the spot near his heart, “it’s
not meant to ever come out.”

She straightened, facing him, the deep brown of her irises
turning to midnight. “Are you saying…?”

“There’s a very good chance that removing it will kill me.”

“Oh my God.” Her face paled, then a second later, as if she’d
flipped a switch, Shayla charged back into packing. “Come on. Help me grab my
things. We need to get out of here. Put as much distance as possible away from
where you arrived before that device activates. We need time to figure this
out.”

“Shayla.” Creed reached down inside the brown case, making
sure his tone remained calm and stilled her hands. She didn’t look up. Her gaze
remained fixed on the blouse in her fists.

“When did it start?”

“Ten minutes ago.”

“How much time do we have?” Shayla spun back to her closet,
fear choking her, and grabbed everything from the hangers, folding them into one
large bundle over her arms.

“Three days. Maybe.”

“Okay.” She released a long breath she had no idea she’d
been holding. “I’m grabbing a shower, and we’re out of here.” It wasn’t up for
debate.

Ten minutes later, Shayla stood back at her bed, tossing the
mound she’d gathered earlier into her suitcase. How could fate be such a bitch?

Creed had washed up as well, and like a shadow, he lingered
at her side, following her every move.

“They’ll need to call in a team,” Creed went on to say as if
their conversation had never paused. “That’ll take a day. Then it’ll depend on
the accuracy of their warps as to how quickly they zero in on my path.”

Shayla closed the case, propping an elbow on top to hold the
contents while she reached for the zipper. Creed leaned over and added his
weight to the bulging compartment. Shayla tugged the zipper around and sealed
her belongings.

“It could take longer,” he added. “But I doubt it. I trained
most of those men myself.” He straightened, facing her. “They’re damn good.”

With a hard yank on the handle, Shayla pulled the
overstuffed suitcase to the floor and started for the door. “I’ll call my mom
from the car and let her know I may be an extra few days.” Shayla looked back
over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need to know I’m not here, and if I’m not home
as scheduled, I don’t want Maddie or her scared.”

A wash of emotions rolled over his face, but he nodded and
swiped up the few clothing items he’d left in her room before following her
out.

The rental agency the family all chipped in on to maintain
the cabin would take of cleaning everything in a few days. Shayla’s head
buzzed, trying to take in all that she’d learned in the last few minutes. She
scanned the living space. Creed had already shoved what he had in his backpack
and had the bag on his shoulder. Turning around, her gaze landed on the desk.
Computer.
That
she could not leave behind. Three months of hard work was stored
inside that thing.

Within minutes, Shayla had her laptop shoved into its case,
her flash drives stuffed inside the zipped compartment. She skirted the desk
and placed the additional items on top of her suitcase.

“Ready?” Creed stepped in and took the handle of the
luggage.

“I think so.” Shayla grasped a stray lock of hair from in
front of her eyes and placed it behind her ear.

“Any idea where you want to go?”

Shayla’s stomach roiled. “Not a damn clue.” She looked up at
the man who had walked onto her porch and turned her world upside down.
Turquoise eyes stared down at her, searching, doing his best to comfort. But
not an ounce of regret reflected there.

“Are you okay?” Creed lifted another strand of hair that had
escaped from the other side and gently tucked it away.

She nodded.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he said. “You have a
life, a daughter, and career that already makes you happy. The last thing I
want is to hurt you and to complicate your world. I don’t know what’s ahead or
how long we’ll be on the run until we can figure out how to get this thing
removed.”

“I know.” She cleared her throat and swallowed.

“Shay.” Suddenly his palms were on her cheeks, tilting her
face up to his. “As much as I want to be here—with you—I’ll put a stop to this
now. All you have to do is say the word. Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth.”
He shook his head. “I’ll never hate you. Or be angry. God, Shay.” His eyes
closed for a moment as if he savored a beautiful image behind his lids. “I’ll
cherish every second I had with you for the rest of my life.” His lashes lifted
and his gaze returned to hers. “But to do this will mean putting your life on
hold. Are you sure?” His touch fell away.

Her heart ached and the surge of emotion his words generated
threatened to have her babbling like an idiot. Or worse, blubbering like an
idiot. Shayla diverted her gaze to the landscape scene hanging over the sofa
and studied the reds and yellows the artist had swirled together to form a
sunset. Being face-to-face with Creed was more than she could take.