Renegade (Elite Ops 5) (28 page)

BOOK: Renegade (Elite Ops 5)
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"Perfectly," Mikayla agreed as she rose to her feet, followed by Nik. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."

"Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice," Kira expressed with a genuine warmth. "We'll be talking soon."

Mikayla just bet they would be, just as she was betting it wouldn't be all about

dresses.

"You'll have to give me a ride," she told Nik as his hand settled at the small of her 135

back and he led her through the cafe. "I walked over with Mrs. Richards and Mrs.

Vincent."

"Not a problem." His tone was clipped and rough. The sound sent a shiver of anticipation up Mikayla's spine and she had no idea why.

"Good." She smiled back at him, making certain the curve of her lips was carefree and perky. "I'm sure it will be a fun ride."

His fingers seemed to tighten at her back and she swore his whole body tensed.

Sex seemed to pour off him as they stepped onto the sidewalk and moved for the small parking area at the side of the cafe.

Steering her to the back of the parking lot, he led her to the monster black pickup backed into the parking space. Moving to the passenger side, she waited until he

unlocked the door of the vehicle he'd started automatically as they left the cafe.

The door opened, he gripped her waist, lifted her onto the seat, then caught the

back of her head and covered her lips with his own.

Instantly flames shot through her body. Her clit swelled, throbbed, her breasts felt electrified, and the breath seemed to stop in her lungs.

The kiss was a heady, heated stamp of ownership and possession. His tongue

brushed over her lips, then forged past them to find her own. It stroked, licked, tasted, until Mikayla became so lost in the sensations she no longer cared where they were or why she was pissed with him to begin with.

This was what mattered. In that second, it was all that mattered. Holding him to

her, loving him with every stroke of her tongue against his, every touch of his hair against her fingers as she delved into it.

The touch, the feel of him. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could matter as

she felt the flames, the hunger rising inside her.

Until his head pulled back and her eyes opened to stare into the flaming depths of the pale blue of his.

"You won't enjoy getting your way," he assured her, his voice thick and heavy with lust.

Mikayla leaned forward slowly, keeping her eyes locked with his, and touched his

lips with her own softly as she said, "Bet me."

136

Chapter 14

Nik couldn't explain the emotions racing through him as he maneuvered the truck

back to Mikayla's home. His hands were clenched tight around the steering wheel,

tension mounting as he fought the tightness in his chest, the clenching of his abdomen.

There was no way to fight the engorging of his cock.

He was iron hard, throbbing painfully as he fought the need to fuck her into

submission.

His sexuality had always been one of his greatest curses, but he'd never in his life lost control of it. He controlled his hungers, his desires, not the other way around. Not until he met the sweet softness of an ethereal fairy.

He glanced over at her. She sat perfectly poised, her hands clasped in her lap atop the filmy, gauzy violet skirt of the summer dress she wore.

On her delicate feet she wore at least four-inch heels, which had given her legs a long, sleek look. He could push that skirt right up her thighs, he thought, and delve into the rich sweetness of her snug pussy.

She would be tight, even around his finger. Wet. Hot. She would take him. She

was already primed for him.

What the hell was she doing to him?

The battle to restrain himself from touching her right now was almost lost. He

could almost feel the hot, slick juices coating his fingers, easing his way inside her.

"You know this really isn't as bad as you're making it out to be," she finally spoke, her tone precise, stilted. "You act as though I've ripped your heart from your chest."

That was a fairly accurate summary. She was terrifying him with her courage and

her refusal to allow him to protect her.

"This is something we need to discuss at the house," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "Just let it go for now, Mikayla."

Pulling over on the side of the interstate to fuck her silly wasn't an acceptable

option. But if she kept pushing him, then it was going to be the only option. The need to touch her, to take her, to feel her safe and alive, wrapped around him, was making him desperate. Desperate to possess her, to feel her kiss, to feel the silk of her flesh beneath his hands.

What the hell was he allowing to happen to himself? Nik wondered as he took the

Williamsport exit and quickly took the turn to Mikayla's house.

Within minutes he was pulling into the drive and shutting the vehicle off.

From the corner of his eye he watched as Mikayla picked up her purse and leather

briefcase from the floor. He moved from the vehicle and strode to the passenger side to 137

help her out. Once again, he noticed those damned high-heeled shoes that cupped her petite feet and lifted her a good four inches higher, placing her almost beneath his chin.

She had to be the tiniest woman he had ever had his hands on. Setting her

carefully on the ground, he moved ahead of her as he drew the Glock from the holster at his back and held it carefully at his thigh.

Mikayla remained quiet, and it wasn't a contented quiet. He swore he could hear

her fuming without her saying a word. Fuming and aroused. The arousal still glittered in her eyes; that kiss in the parking lot of the cafe had been enough to fire them both up.

Unlocking the door, Nik stepped into the house carefully and checked it

thoroughly as Mikayla waited in the foyer. He needed the time to get a handle on his hunger as well as his emotions.

The harder he tried to stay away from her, the more the hunger for her built. The

reckless courage she displayed, along with her impeccable manners and ladylike

gentility, was a combination he couldn't seem to resist.

It was tearing him apart. She wanted more from him than he could give.

She wanted to be a part of her own protection, of her own life, and the thought of that terrified him. She terrified him in ways he couldn't explain. She had the power to destroy him.

And destruction wasn't a future he was looking forward to again.

He had hoped that the walk through the house would give him a chance to get his

arousal, his need for her, under control. It wasn't helping, though. He swore his hands were almost shaking with the need to touch her; his cock was ready to burst from his pants.

Jaw clenched, he moved from the bedroom and back into the living room, where

she waited.

She stood where he had left her by the closed door. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed beneath her breasts, she was clearly waiting with forced patience.

"Everything okay?" Her brows lifted as she tucked a heavy strand of hair behind her ear.

She had worn her hair loose today. It flowed down her back like heavy silk,

tempting his hands with the remembered feel of it.

"It's clear," he told her as he moved toward her, knowing he was losing the battle to hold on to the restraint he needed. He was losing it all.

His hands were going to the snap and zipper of his leather pants as her eyes

widened, darkening, her pink lips parting.

"Nik."

"Don't." He was in front of her, his fingers lying against her lips as he drew in a hard, deep breath. "For God's sake, Mikayla, leave me my sanity."

He didn't want to argue with her. He didn't want to feel her anger any longer. He

wanted to feel her body against his, heated and warm. Her kiss beneath his lips. Her hands holding him to her.

"Why should I?" she whispered against his fingers. "You don't leave me any, Nik."

And he was going to make certain neither of them was going to have any sanity

left.

As he lifted her against him, his lips descended on hers, the heated satin meeting 138

his lips as her lips parted for him. Her hands held her to him by spearing into his hair as her arms wrapped around his neck.

She was like a flame in his arms. A flame he wanted to never see extinguished.

Lifting her from her feet, he placed her on the back of the chair that sat facing the room, its back to the foyer. It was an interesting arrangement and one that worked perfectly for his impatience.

Impatience. Hunger. God, what was she doing to him? She intoxicated him. She

tore aside any civility he might have imagined he possessed and left him as primal as any male animal could be.

So primal that nothing mattered but having her, touching her, tasting her.

Pushing that skirt to her thighs as he tore his lips from hers and went to his knees in front of her.

Just a taste of her.

"I'm going to fall," she warned him, her voice trembling as he pushed her thighs apart and tore her panties from her.

Not that there was much to the panties. Damn her, that had to be the thinnest silk he'd ever touched.

"I got this," he promised.

He had this. With her legs over his shoulders, One hand behind her back and her

hands in his hair. Yeah, he had this.

He slid his tongue through the sweetest, juiciest folds of flesh. The taste of her exploded against his tongue like ambrosia. Hell, it was better than vodka and went to his head faster.

He'd never gone to his knees for a woman in his life, but taking the time to

actually get her to the bed, the couch, the counter, reclined, wasn't going to happen.

His need for her had risen too high.

She had managed to back him into a corner. She demanded participation. She

demanded equality and there was nothing equal in their abilities to protect her.

There was this, though. Here he could lose himself in her. Here there was no

danger to her, no fear of losing her.

There was just the feel and the taste of her.

He kissed the delicate knot of her clit. Drawing it between his lips and suckling it gently as her thighs tightened on his head and her cries filled his senses.

Pulling back, he licked, stroked, tasted each inch of the silken flesh as he felt her trembling in his hold. Flicking his tongue around her clit once again, he licked it, stroked it, drove her as high as possible before pulling back, easing her from the release he'd felt building in her body.

She was ready to come for him. He could feel it burning inside her, raging

through her body. And he was so ready to taste the sweet excess of her pleasure flowing through her.

But not yet. Not yet. He wanted to feel her release while he was inside her, taking her. The sweet clench of her pussy around his dick was addictive. He swore he'd never felt pleasure so intensely as he did with Mikayla.

Rising to his feet, he gripped his cock as it pressed out from the opened front of his leather pants. Lifting her against him, he urged her legs around his hips, tucked the head of his cock against her, and pressed inside.

139

The pleasure was so intense he nearly lost his balance. Almost stumbling, he

pressed her against the wall, his entire body on the edge of trembling as pure, sweet ecstasy began to consume the head of his cock.

Tender muscles parted slowly, gripping his flesh like a heated glove as it rippled over his cock with a million tiny pinpoints of pleasure.

"Sweet Mikayla," he groaned as he touched his forehead to hers, staring into the dark amethyst gaze and feeling as though she were sinking into his soul, as though he were sinking into hers. "Just hold me, baby. Just for a little while."

Her arms were tight around his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips as he

forged deeper inside her, taking her by increments as he felt his chest tightening with the extremity of pure sensation racing through him.

"I'll hold you forever."

Forever. How did you tell a fairy that forever was an illusion? That they didn't

have forever, they only had this moment. Forever was in memories only and God knew Nik didn't know if he could exist on just the memory of her.

He gripped the rounded globes of her rear, held her close, and rocked his hips

against her, penetrating her deeper with every inward motion as he felt his head spinning with pleasure.

Damn, she was destroying him one touch at a time. Did she know what she did to

him? Did she have any idea how she was locking herself inside his very spirit every time he touched her?

It didn't matter if she knew. That was what was happening. Each time his dick

sank inside her, he could feel another part of his soul opening to her. Staring into her eyes, rocked by the physical as well as the emotional pleasure, Nik began to wonder if fate had finally caught up with him.

Live by the sword, die by the sword,
he remembered hazily. He couldn't survive if that sword reached out to sever the life that glowed in Mikayla's beautiful eyes.

"Nik." She arched into him, her breathing rough, ragged, as little whimpers fell from her lips. "It's so good. Oh, God, it's so good."

She made him feel like fucking Superman when he knew he was no more than a

man.

But the feeling was there, the knowledge that she saw him as more than what he

was, saw him as no other woman ever had.

Trembling in his arms, she still held his gaze as her pussy gripped him tight and

hot, so fucking sweet. The rippling caress of the clenching muscles was almost more than he could stand. His balls were tightening, the imminent release quaking through his muscles as he fought to hold back, just a little bit longer.

He needed to feel her just a few more minutes. Needed to be a part of her as much

as possible. Just one more memory that he could hold on to.

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