Seduced by the Storm (17 page)

He
kissed her then, yanked her hard to him and crushed her mouth with his to let
her know that none of this was a fucking joke. She yielded, her body softening
against his, and he kissed her until he was certain she was certain that
nothing he said or did around her was a joke.

"We’re
in big trouble here," she said, her breathing fast once he ripped his
mouth from hers, and she wasn’t only talking about Sean. "I can’t
concentrate on anything when you’re around."

"Yeah,
right back at you, Faith," he growled against her cheek. "We’re
getting off this platform, ASAP."

"I’m
not cooperating unless you tell me who you work for," she said. "Even
free agents answer to someone."

"ACRO.
The good guys." No use lying now that they might have to work together.
Better that she knew the wrath of the major agency could come down on her head.

And
even though he knew she got it, she still played it cool as shit, a small smile
curving those perfect lips. "You want the weather machine."

"I’m
going to destroy the weather machine, and then we’re out of here."

"I
can’t let you do that," she said.

"Ah,
babe, don’t tell me you really do work for Itor. I’m into you and I don’t want
to have to snap your neck because you’re working for my arch enemy."

"I
don’t work for Itor, and I have my own reasons for wanting the weather
machine."

"No
good comes of that piece of man-made shit, Faith. Nothing good at all."

The
sounds outside the room grew louder as alarms continued to sound. He put his
forehead to hers and they remained pressed together, immobile and part of the
shadows in the corner of the room, until the danger passed them by for the
moment.

"We’re
going to have to wait them out." She jerked her head toward the closed
door where the sounds of security guards were rising.

"It
won’t be long," he murmured against her ear. "They can’t risk
catching the riggers’ attention and raising suspicion."

"They’re
still going to want you dead, no matter how long we wait," she said, and
he smiled, because hell, he was already dead twice over.

"What
about you? Do you want me dead?"

"If
that’s what I wanted, I could’ve done that back when you were on the
rack."

She
was still rubbing against him—his hips responding in like fashion with a life
of their own, until the length of their bodies made a rhythmic connection that
promised to set them both on fire. Dry humping against the wall of the boiler
room might not be the best use of his time right now, but you couldn’t beat it
as an interrogation method.

The
thing was, with Faith, he didn’t even have to use the love jones before she
responded to him.

And
she remembers—remembers every time we’ve made love.

She
shifted so she could wrap her hands around his ass and pull him into her even
more tightly. "In the office—with Sean—you did something special,"
she said, and he nodded. "Is that why I felt different when I walked into
the room? Drugged?"

"Yeah.
It’s part of my powers, tied to the telekinesis."

"Would
you have slept with him if I hadn’t come in?"

"I’ll
do whatever I need to do in order to save the world from the weather machine.
That’s why I don’t judge anything you might’ve done, honey. But that doesn’t
mean I would’ve liked it."

"So
those powers—you’ve used them on me, haven’t you?"

"The
first night, in the alley," he admitted.

"And
all night long?"

"Once
I let the pheromone out there, it’s out there. It even affects me. But that
didn’t make that night any less special."

"I
don’t like being deceived," she told him. "If I have feelings, if I
want someone, I need to know that it’s all me, not because of some magic
trick."

He
pulled his upper body back slightly so his finger could trace her already
hardened nipple through the fabric of her nearly see-through white blouse.
"Just know that the way you want me now, it’s all you, Faith. Nothing to
do with my magical powers of persuasion. You’ll know the difference. In fact,
you do know the difference."

He
pulled her in for a soft kiss—something that nearly killed him, since all he
wanted to do was take her, right there, in the boiler room. But no, gentle was
the answer for the moment—she had to believe him.

"You’re
the first woman who remembered me, Faith. This gift can also be a curse—the
pheromones act like a memory erase. Convenient when sex is just a means to an
end. Shitty when you want to be remembered," he said quietly. "I was
really glad you remembered me. You have no idea how glad."

"Funny,
because it might have been safer for us both if I’d forgotten," she said,
and he knew she was thinking about Sean.

"I
meant what I said earlier. I don’t want you with other men."

"You’re
very proprietary."

"You’re
the sexiest woman I’ve ever met," he murmured, his free hand sliding down
the length of her body to cup her ass as she arched against him again.

"We
need a plan, Wyatt. Need to get the weather machine and get off this
platform." She’d groaned the last part of the sentence, as his hand slid
under her shirt and cupped her bare breast, a nipple pressed between finger and
thumb.

"Any
ideas?" he asked, glad multitasking had always been high on his list of
talents.

"We’re
going to have to use some good old-fashioned brute force." She jerked
under his touch and hissed as he pressed her nipple again and again. Her hand
had made its way between his legs—she wasn’t going to make any of this easy.
"Overpower Sean and take the weather machine."

"Destroy
the machine," he corrected, as she opened his pants and took his cock in
hand, stroked him with a cool palm and a lick of her own bottom lip that made
it almost impossible for him to think.

"I’ve
got a buyer—he’s willing to spend millions to get his hands on the machine—and
I’ll split the proceeds," she said as she traced a thumb over the slit and
spread the pre-cum over his head. He retaliated by pushing her skirt up and
moving her flimsy thong panties aside to stroke her already wet sex.

"Bullshit,
Faith." He spoke as slowly and deliberately as his fingers moved over her
clit. Her body threaded tightly, like a drawn bow, quivering and on the edge of
being let loose. And he’d keep her on that edge as long as he needed her to be
there, ruthlessly, breathlessly holding back his own orgasm. "I don’t
believe that you do anything for money. For the job, yes, but not for
money."

She
drew a deep breath and pushed herself toward his fingers, frantically seeking a
relief he would not give her. Her own hand lost its momentum around his
erection as her thoughts clouded from impending pleasure. "Just checking
to make sure
your
motives are clean."

"My
motives—and the motives of ACRO—are above reproach. But the actions of an
independent agent might not be."

"I
can help you take the machine, get it away from here." She was moaning in
between her words, soft ones as the perfume of her arousal filled the room, as
effective as any drug. If there was time, he’d lift her and take her with his
mouth, lick her sweet juice until she was a quivering, whimpering mess.

He’d
have to make do with his hand.

"I’m
destroying it. And then we’re out of here. Mission accomplished," he told
her, moved his fingers to just the right spot and watched her explode, watched
her eyes close and her mouth drop open to emit a soft cry of pleasure as she
writhed on his hand.

"God,
Wyatt…just bloody God." She bit into the soft flesh of his neck to keep
from making any louder sounds.

"Did
you hear me, Faith?" he asked, knowing full well that conversation wasn’t
her strong suit right now. But he’d gone beyond any sense of fair play a long
time ago. "We’re going to destroy the weather machine before we leave this
platform."

She
shuddered in his arms, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance as he eased
her skirt back down, smoothed it with both hands and tried to catch his own
breath.

He
hadn’t come, but damn, it had been close.

"Did
you hear me, Faith?" he asked again.

"I
heard you." She lifted her head finally, her eyes clear and bright, the
smile of contentment still on her lips. "It’s just that right now, right
this second, I have a different mission."

First
one arm and then the other went up over his head—wrists together, she held them
there with her mind without a hint of strain.

What
a fucking turn-on—more so, of course, if both their lives and the fate of the
world weren’t on the line, but Dev always reiterated that sex was about power
and control, and never more so than when you were on the bottom, so to speak.

"Do
you trust me, Wyatt?" she asked. He shifted slightly and realized that the
only thing he could still move were his hips. She’d nudged his legs slightly
apart, held them fast too, the way she had on the table.

"What
do you want, baby?"

"Besides
you?" she asked, stroking his still rock-hard cock with an expert touch,
cool fingers against hot flesh, and his body practically sizzled with need.
"I want off this platform. That’s one thing we agree on."

For
the moment, it was enough. He was suspended basically by nothing but her mind,
longed to stretch out with her on the floor and drive into her as hard and fast
as he could, to drive her to the edge again, to hear her call his name in a way
she’d never, ever called out any man’s name before.

"Can
you bring yourself over a chair?" she asked, and he didn’t bother to
question it. In seconds, he had the metal folding chair moving silently toward
them. "Good boy. Now sit for me."

She
released his body long enough for him to do so, and fuck, that was a cool power
she had. Deadly, but cool. "Our powers complement one another well, don’t
you think?" she asked.

"I
want to get beyond thinking, Faith. I want you to fuck me instead. Because when
you do that, when I’m inside you, when you’re touching me, I feel whole. And I like
that feeling."

She
immobilized him again, arms at his sides, legs spread and unmoving, her eyes
never wavering from his as she slid her skirt up and her thong off.

"Yeah,
oh, yeah, baby. Come on down," he murmured as she lowered herself,
excruciatingly slowly until she accommodated every inch of him. Her nails bit
into his bare shoulders, still sore from the beating he took, and he didn’t
care because, holy fuck, watching her ride him was worth that price.

"You
make me want more, Wyatt," she murmured as she rocked against him, taking
him in deeper and deeper, until he nearly screamed with the frustration of not
being able to rock his own hips upward. "You make me crazy."

All
the power, all the pleasure was located in his cock and balls, so intense he nearly
lost consciousness.

"You
like this, baby? Like when I hold you down and take you?" she asked, but
he was beyond words, nearly incoherent as her body overwhelmed his, took him
with a frantic pace he’d never known before.

They
remained well hidden in the dark corner, her pussy contracting around his cock,
wet and hot and pulsing, and
fuck,
he was about to bite off his own
tongue, and holding back was fast becoming a nonoption.

"Come
with me, Wyatt. Come right now," she commanded him, and he did, shooting
hard inside her as her own orgasm overtook her.

His
arms and legs went immediately free when she came—he made a mental note about
that as he held her against his chest and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

FAITH
HAD BEEN in a lot of lose-lose situations. There’d been times when she’d been
ninety-nine percent sure she wouldn’t get out of a situation alive. But as bad
as things had been during those missions, nothing could come close to the
clusterfuck she was living through right now.

She’d
always preferred to work alone, but when team action was required, she wanted
to know she could trust her teammate. Which was one of the reasons she and her
partner, Paula Archer, had, with the British government’s support and
financing, started The Aquarius Group—named for their birth sign. She and
Paula, friends from their "special school" days, handpicked the
operatives, trained them and tested them. Regularly.

Now
she was on the most dangerous assignment of her life, easily the most critical
one, and suddenly she had a partner she needed, didn’t trust, and whose mission
objective directly opposed hers.

Worse,
every time she had sex with him, she sank deeper into an emotional place that
threatened to derail her. The smart thing to do would have been to kill Wyatt
while he was stretched out on the rack. Instead, she’d saved him, and now she’d
have to battle him for possession of the weather machine.

"What
do you think Sean is doing right now?" Wyatt slipped behind her, pressed
the length of his body to hers as she peeked through the crack in the steel
boiler-room door.