Seduced by the Storm (3 page)

His
tongue swirled against her neck. "Do you think he’s convinced?"

"I
don’t know, love, but I certainly am."

His
smile tickled her skin, and before she became distracted again, she dropped
south inside Marco’s body, located his bladder, and gave a mental squeeze.

The
expression of horror on Marco’s face as his pants darkened with urine brought
immense satisfaction. He looked around wildly for the toilet, and then,
clutching his gut, he ran for the Men sign near the back of the pub.

"Brilliant,"
Faith said, pulling away from Wyatt and ignoring her body’s protests. She slid
the bartender a sultry smile. "Wyatt’s picking up my tab. Cheers."

She
darted out the door, Wyatt’s curse following her. She’d nearly made it the
three blocks to her hotel when she realized someone was following.

Spinning,
she threw out her fist. Recognition bloomed, but she pulled her punch too late.
Wyatt blocked the strike, lightning fast, and then she found herself against a
building, Wyatt’s body pressed against hers.

Sloppy
work on her part, letting it happen, but a small part of her had wanted this
from the moment she recognized his face beneath the streetlight.

Relaxing,
because doing so rolled her hips into closer contact with his, she dragged her
gaze up from his broad chest, past the dazzling white teeth that flashed in a
smile, as though he knew she was taking his measure now that they were alone.

The
look in his eyes confirmed it. Amusement swirled there in the green depths,
amusement and wariness and a touch of wild, as if he’d seen one too many horror
movies.

Or
had lived them.

"Tell
me to back off and I will."

"Back
off."

Grinning,
he tugged her hard against him so she had to crane her neck to look up at him.
Oh,
my.
She’d known he was tall, but at five-ten, she wasn’t short herself, and
he topped her by at least five inches. For all that height, he moved like a
cat. Powerful muscles sang with reserved energy while in motion, went
loose-limbed at rest.

A
flicker of unease made her tense. This man was even more dangerous than he’d
appeared to be in the pub. Prior military, maybe a merc.

It
worked for her, the whole danger thing, since that was her life, but on the eve
of what might be the riskiest mission she’d ever accepted, she didn’t need any
extra stress.

"You
didn’t back off," she said.

"Because
you didn’t mean it."

No,
she supposed she hadn’t. Sex oozed from every pore in his smooth, tanned skin,
the promise of eroticism so tangible she could feel it rumble through her like
a purr.

"Did
you want to go at it here, then?" She skimmed her thumb over the massive
ridge in the fly of his jeans, and he arched into her palm. "Where anyone
driving by can see?"

His
hand dropped to grasp her ass and hold her as his hips undulated against hers,
driving his cock into her belly. "I’m not into exhibitionism. No one sees
my woman but me."

"I’m
not your woman."

Dropping
his head, he nipped at her earlobe, held it between his teeth as he growled,
"Tonight you are."

Somewhere
deep inside, she wanted to protest, but when her mouth opened, only one word
came out.

"Yes."

Her
voice sounded husky, needy. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself an
indulgent night of pleasure. Normally, sex was a tool, whether she offered her
body or merely the promise of her body. Seduction played a big part of her job
as a special operative for TAG, and tomorrow it was back to the job.

Tonight…tonight
was for her, because if her mission aboard Itor’s oil platform met with success
and she nabbed the weather machine, someone she loved might die. If her mission
failed, someone else she loved
would
die.

Either
way, she’d lose Sean or Liberty, and either way, she didn’t have a lot of time
left for pleasure.

Reaching
up, she took Wyatt’s face in her palms and captured his gaze with hers.
"Your room or mine?"

It
was definitely going to be Faith’s room. Wyatt’s own was a piece of shit off
the side of the highway. Most nights, he slept outside, on the beach, until the
cops rousted him and called him a vagrant. Besides, they determined that
Faith’s room was the closest, and he let his body send out enough pulsating
mojo to make her realize they needed privacy—and fast.

He’d
slung his arm around her as they walked past the snooty desk clerk, to the
elevator. They rode up to her floor with an elderly couple, who smiled at
them—as if they knew what was going to happen once he and Faith reached her
room. Or what would be happening right here in the elevator if they were alone,
based on the way Faith was rubbing against him.

When
Wyatt’s hormones called out, they
called out,
brother. Even the old lady
was edging closer to him, on what seemed like the slowest ride ever to the top
of a building.

"This
is us," Faith said, tugging him along by the front of his belt. Wyatt felt
the older woman caress his lower back as he left the elevator, towed along by
Faith, and he tossed her a wink over his shoulder as the elevator doors shut.

That
old man was getting lucky tonight, on him.

"Come
on in," Faith said, holding the door to her room open for him. She was
staying in a suite, very posh, and fitting of her accent.

"Fancy,"
he said, noting the ratty stuffed animal sitting in the middle of the plush
bedding, out of place and somehow strangely comforting.

She
wound her arms around his neck, looked up at him as she pressed her belly
against his erection. "Yes, well, work is paying for it all, so I figured
I deserved the splurge."

"What
kind of work do you do?"

"Nothing
special." She sucked lightly on the skin above his collarbone.

"So
you dress in leather and run from ex-boyfriends on your time off to spice
things up," he said.

"Anything
to keep it exciting. What about you?"

"You
didn’t invite me here to talk work," he said.

"Actually,
I wasn’t going to invite you at all."

"Then
why did you?"

"I
don’t know," she murmured against his neck, her lips hot against his already
overheated skin—and,
oh yeah,
they were going to have fun tonight.

He
turned the lock on the door to Do Not Disturb mode with his mind and kept on
kissing her.

She
was so enthralled, she didn’t notice that he was unbuttoning her leather jacket
with his fingers and unzipping her leather pants with his thoughts, pulling
them down and ripping off her corset top.

She’d
made short work of his T-shirt, yanked it off impatiently and nibbled along his
shoulder as she unbuttoned his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear, found that
in most cases it wasn’t necessary, and this was definitely one of those cases.

"God,
this is crazy," she murmured. Her nipples were dark pink and already
stiff, begging for his touch, and he knew, just knew that if he reached between
her legs right now she’d already be wet and ready for him. One long stroke and
he’d be fucking her.

He
wondered what it would be like to actually make love, when things weren’t at
such a frenzied, fever pitch, thanks to his mojo. The times he did slow it down,
the women he was with would have a complete fit, practically force themselves
on him.

No,
slowing down wasn’t worth it, and from the looks of things, this night with
Faith wouldn’t be any different. Her pupils were already slightly dilated, her
lips fuller, her scent calling out for him.

His
head was getting fuzzy, a side effect of turning another person on this much.
But he wanted her to want him badly, even though she hadn’t been drawn to him
originally because of his sexual pull.

He
hadn’t realized that back in the bar, but he’d been concentrating too hard on
his past to put anything else out there. And he was nearly beyond concentration
now and she was completely naked, save for the black goth choker she wore. He
was going to make sure she kept that on, since it was sexy as anything.

He
walked around her body, surveying, taking it all in. She turned her head to
watch him circle. He stopped at her back, rubbed himself against her, his jeans
brushing the bare backs of her thighs, his cock brushing her high, tight ass.

She’d
let him fuck her this way, he thought, caressing a butt cheek in each hand as
she continued to watch him over her shoulder.

He
noted a scar on her right shoulder, his sex-addled brain not registering it as
anything important as he ran his tongue over it, back and forth. She shivered
at that intimacy, as if the scar was something she’d tried to keep hidden.
Nothing could stay hidden from him for long, not when his hormones were calling
out to hers, begging her to unveil everything to him. She was powerless.

And
when she turned toward him and took his cock in her hand, so was he.

"You’re
a big man," she murmured.

"Compliments
will get you everywhere. And I mean that literally," he said, letting her
drag him down to the most comfortable bed he’d been on in months. Years, maybe.

She
made short work of his jeans and he could see her assessing his body, looking
at the various scars that graced his chest and thigh—remnants more of his SEAL
days, less from ACRO work—but not really taking them in because she was
completely focused on sex.

She
crouched, on all fours like a stalking panther, above his jutting cock and
nuzzled it with her cheek. He put his hands behind his head, content to wait
and watch for the moment.

She
ran her tongue up the length of his shaft, stopping to swirl the broad head and
then gently suckle the bead of pre-cum before sliding her tongue along his slit
and, Jesus Christ, his hips bucked up with a force of their own.

"You
like that, Wyatt?"

"Yeah,
baby. I like."

Another
beautiful smile before she slid him into her mouth. His back arched, his eyes
closed, and for a few merciful minutes his mind went completely blank of
anything but the incredible pleasure she was giving him.

He
wanted to do the same for her, curved his long body sideways in order to grab
for her thigh. She understood what he wanted immediately, let him pull her hips
toward him, even as her mouth formed an O around the outer ridge of the head of
his cock. The dark hair of her sex was manicured into a neat triangle, and he
angled his neck so he could get his mouth on her. He blew softly on her center
and then gave a long lick down her wet, hot folds, imbibing her sweet scent
like a mark that would follow him for life.

Her
thighs clenched involuntarily and he used that opportunity to bury his face in
her, to inhale that sweet, tangy scent she’d been giving off, and goddamn, he
was going to move in and set up shop.

Her
tongue flattened against the smooth spot behind his balls and he was going to
come, good enough and hard enough to push away any coherent thoughts that might
break through.

Faith
had one of the most talented mouths he’d ever run across, and yes, he could
definitely do this for a long, long time.

At
least until morning.

His
balls tightened as he flirted with the edge of his orgasm, tried to hold off as
long as he could, until Faith came against his mouth and moaned around his
shaft, and then it was over for him. His cock pulsed, the edges of his sight
blurring, the way it did right before he went telekinetic. But this was not the
time for any more special gifts to barge in on his party. No, he wanted to
savor the way shivers tightened every muscle in his body to an almost painful
level as he came.

She
gripped his hips as she milked him—he did the same for her, his face still
buried in her pussy. Keeping his tongue on her pulsing clit with just the right
amount of pressure, he worked her over the edge again.

Slowly,
he let his cock slide from her mouth, licked his way up her body, stopping to
tease each nipple again while she moaned. Her fingers stroked through his hair,
her nails raking lightly along his scalp.

He
put his knee between her thighs to spread them, but she protested, pushing back
against him.

She
was trying to flip him because she wanted to be on top—even though she was
overtaken by him, her dominant streak was still fighting.

He
didn’t let that happen, not so much because he needed to be on top, but because
he was in the mood for it. And Wyatt always went with his moods.

His
mood also had him not wanting to use a condom. Yeah, he used them if the woman
asked or if he wanted to contain the mess, but he didn’t
need
to use
them. ACRO had recently acquired immunizations developed to prevent all sexually
transmitted diseases—immunizations that would never be available to the public,
for the same reason the drug trade would never be stopped: There was too much
money to be made off human misery.