Parallel Desire (17 page)

"D
amn you, woman," Jake
cursed, pulling Shelby up onto his lap. They were in his new quarters, a set of rooms on the fourth floor of the lodge that were more lavish than anyplace he'd lived in years. "You got a death wish or something?"

She snorted, nuzzling up against his neck. Of course she'd jumped all over the chance to go on the op, leaving him little room to argue. "Oh, now look who's talking."

"I honestly thought you were smarter than this." He pulled away from her, leaning into the back of the sofa so he could stare her right in the eyes.

She gazed up at him through lowered lashes, her voice husky rich. "I am smart, but that doesn't have anything to do with this situation," she murmured without one trace of a southern accent. "It's knowing where I need to be. And that's fighting beside you, Jakob."

He growled, cupping a hand around the nape of her neck, yanking her close for a ferocious kiss. He was pissed, and yet he wanted her so damned badly that his body burned with it. Ached with it. Her sweet little mouth just opened right to him, zero resistance, and her hands plunged through his hair.

Tilting her head, she sidled closer, her legs curling across his knees. With another shimmy of her hips, she brushed her thigh against his lengthening erection.

She broke their kiss with a sighing "yes" at the contact, and his cock pushed up inside his pants.

The traitor—the thing had a mind of its own, and clearly it didn't give a crap about how angry he was supposed to be. He took hold of her shoulders, prying her off of him. "We need to talk, Shell, and not like this."

"I'm listening." But then she reached up and unfastened her hair, shaking it out across her shoulders. It fell loose and long, a golden shimmer of femininity that she
knew
would tangle any of his lame arguments into knots.

He cranked down his eyebrows, scowling at her ferociously, but her only reaction was to laugh right in his face.

"You are so adorable when you get all cranky like that." She smiled, her gaze drifting down and to the left, and he knew she was thinking of someone else. That look on her face was no less than a rifle shot, fired right over the bow between them. The jealousy that answered inside his heart was instantaneous. He wasn't into sharing, and he swore that if she was having some memory of Nate, or any other man for that matter, he'd go flipping ballistic on her.

What is happening to you, man?
he wondered dimly.
You need to calm the hell down
. But his self-lecture didn't prevent him from gripping her shoulders tight and getting right in her face. "Who?" he demanded, a low rumbling growl beginning in the back of his throat.

"Who?"
She repeated with a mild expression, more confused than anything else. "Who are you talking—"

"You were thinking of someone else just then—another man. Now, tell me who." His growl grew deeper, richer, and certainly more impatient.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and with a terrible blush, he realized that he was behaving … Antousian. This kind of mating ownership went far beyond the Refarians' natural ways. Something about Shelby, though, just brought out the beast inside him.

She reared back. "I was thinking about you … Scott, I mean.
You.
Not another man."

"He is another man," he bit off, the thunder in his chest growing rabid. But as his growl reached an almost uncontrollable pitch, she planted one small hand against his chest, and he was instantly soothed.

"Hey, now. No need for all that. I'm right here." She rubbed her palm gently across his pecs, back and forth, and then finally centered it right over his heart. The woman truly had the gift of healing within her fingertips. Maybe not as a spiritual ability, but certainly in her very being.

He released a peaceful sigh, tugging her back against his chest. "Sorry."

"Are you kidding? A jealous man is a hot man, at least in my book." She wrapped both arms about him, pressing her face against his neck.

"No excuse; not for … that."

"It's in your blood, Jake."

The burn in his face intensified. "You bring it out in me. Not sure what that means, either."

"Means you adore me, baby doll." She gave him a self-satisfied, feminine smile that sent fire jolting through his veins. "And a girl can only love that. And I mean really love it."

"You're a confident little thing." He slid a hand along her thigh, outlining the muscled shape of it. She was still sitting sideways on his lap, and she swung her legs girlishly. No more miniskirt, much to his massive disappointment; she'd been back in uniform for days, the sleek dark pants not nearly as revealing as the postage stamp-sized mini had been.

"But I miss your miniskirt."

"I'll play dress-up for you anytime." She trailed a hand significantly down her chest, lingering dangerously close to her right breast.

Gods in heaven, he had to get a grip. They had business to discuss, and this mutual seduction scene was one unnecessary distraction. "Get off," he said gruffly, taking her by the hips.

"Gladly." She giggled, leaning right up against his chest.

He rolled his eyes. "Off my lap, Shelby. We've got to talk about this warehouse raid."

She slid onto her feet, beginning to prowl his room. She'd been up here at least five times in the past three days, but she wandered the length of it like it was the very first time she'd seen it. He knew better; the woman's mind was flying fast and loose, preparing arguments.

Clearing his throat, he told her forcefully, "I don't want you to go." Then he waited, gauging her reaction as she kept her face utterly unreadable. Her only visible response was the slight lifting of one of her feathery eyebrows.

"I don't want you to go at all," he repeated. "Period. I want you staying here on base."

She made a swooning gesture. "Oh, waiting for my soldier back at home, pining away like the little woman that I am?" She fanned herself, exaggerating her southern accent. "After all, I'm just a frail, delicate,
helpless
woman. I shouldn't go playing soldier with the big ole men."

He stared at the ceiling. "Fuck that. You know that's not what I'm saying."

She spun on him, the fire in her eyes jolting him backward. "Now, hear this, Jakob Tierny." Her voice was like a steel vise as she pointed a trembling finger at him. "I'm in this fight, just like you. Those bastards took my friends, my family—you've never asked me about my family back home. But I had two younger sisters who I lost in this war. I'm alone because of what the
vlksai
have done, and I'll be damned to hell and back if you treat me like I'm fragile."

He could only blink at her wordlessly.

"You don't have nothing more to say? Huh, now, boy?" She planted a hand on her hip, the uniform shut tugging tight across her breasts, outlining their round, gorgeous shape. "You ain't gonna deliver more lectures about how I don't have the strength to fight, are you? You know, I trained with a K-12 and a whole arsenal of luminators before I ever left Refaria. I'm a good shot, too—not to mention being pretty damned handy with a grenade."

His chest tightened spasmodically. Not again. Not another time. Never again could he hold in his arms the lifeless body of a woman he cared for. He gave his head a clearing shake, hating the way his eyes burned.

"Yeah, so you got nothing else, Tierny." She harrumphed in self-satisfaction.

He stared at the floor, at his boots, at his worn laces—anything to keep from having to lift his gaze and simply look her in the eye. "I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly. "Okay?" Slowly, he looked up, afraid of what he'd see. More anger, judgment, pity?

But she just cocked her head sideways and studied him, a tender expression on her face—all the fierceness totally gone. Then, after a considering moment, she bit her lip and walked toward him.

She crossed the distance that separated them and, crooking her finger, motioned him onto his feet. He unfolded his large body, rising slowly. The knee was hurting again, so he took an awkward step until he gained his footing. Facing her, he stared down into her eyes; she wasn't as small as Hope, but she wasn't that much bigger, either. Probably five foot three or four at the most, which put him more than a foot taller than she was.

She tilted her head back, craning to meet his gaze. Sliding both her arms about his torso, she dragged him flush against her, still not speaking. His heartbeat quickened; he felt vulnerable, totally skidding out of control. Wished like hell she'd just say something in response to his declaration.

Still, when at last she did speak, nothing could have prepared him for the words that came out of her mouth.

"J
ake." She nuzzled closer,
holding tight to his back. "Just cause you care about me doesn't mean you'll lose me. Those two ideas don't necessarily go hand in hand." She braced herself, ready for a blustering outburst, but none came. "Look, we've got a few days; why don't we just have fun together?"

"What do you have in mind?" His voice was pure gravel, rough with need and heat.

"I think you know."

"I might have an idea—but tell me what you want."

The big lug was in dire need of some serious seduction, something to just lighten him up and remind him that he was still among the living. She took several steps back, looked him hard in the eye, and said, "Go sit down." She waved him toward the sofa. "Over there."

"You're going to strip for me again?" His blazing eyes narrowed, and the front of his jeans bulged instantaneously with a massive erection. She smiled in pleasure, feeling the place between her own legs grow damp.

"Nope. Something different."

With an uncertain look, he settled back on the sofa, and she approached him, unfastening her shirt so that it fell open. "It's a little … game. The question game."

He traced his tongue over his upper lip, the pink tip of it making her want to forget her action plan and just jump him completely. "All right," he said at last, his gaze glued to the front of her chest and the lacy bra she was wearing.

"Question one," she began, reaching for the button of her uniform pants and unfastening it. "If you could have any part of my body … what would it be?"

"Meshdki,
Shell …" He muttered more curses, a thin band of perspiration appearing on his forehead.

"Answer the question," she chided playfully, thrusting her chest out so the hardened tips of her nipples were visible through the thin fabric of her bra.

"I have to choose?" He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly.

"It's the game."

He leaned forward, practically bounding off the sofa. "That sweet spot between your legs."

She giggled, letting her pants slide to the floor. His gaze fastened on the dark blonde tufts of hair between her legs and the rest of her folding warmth.

"Question two," she continued, stepping out of her boots and kicking off the pants. "If you could do anything with me—right now—what would it be?"

"Fuck you blind," he blurted without hesitation, his startling green eyes growing brighter.

"So do it."

"First I have my own question for you."

"Fire away, boy."

"Where? I'll take you anywhere you want, any way that you want. Name your pleasure."

Heat rushed to her face, her sense of control slipping right out of her hands. But he was letting her set the stage, letting her have that physical power over him that he knew she craved.

"Your bedroom—from behind."

He stood, glanced at her only briefly, and led the way.

"T
ake hold of the headboard,"
he instructed hoarsely, grasping her hips and easing her forward in front of him. She could feel the silky hairs that dusted his inner thighs as his legs cradled her hips, urging her into a prone position beneath him. "And grip it tight because this isn't gonna be gentle and it isn't gonna be sweet."

It was exactly … dang, absolutely
everything
that she craved from him. A little roughness, the feeling of being in control yet being lost. She complied, grasping both hands about the wooden sleigh bed, curling her fingers against its polished surface. She was bowed forward in a posture that was halfway between kneeling and lying down, perfectly naked. Astoundingly needy.

One of his large arms looped about her waist and he pushed himself up behind her. "Hold on for me."

She felt his thick length push up against her slick opening, and he almost entered her, but then seemed to stall out, unable to penetrate at the right angle. She smiled, pressing her eyes shut, and reached right between her thighs to guide him in. "I can help," she murmured softly.

This time he slid inside her like a greased-up piston, plunging all the way into her core. She groaned at the impact, but Jake didn't back down. He gave her hips a little jerk, securing her against himself with one large hand. And then he pumped and teased her … and pumped some more. Until she could only throw her head back against his chest, moaning over and over. She was so close to coming, already, and it was abundantly clear the guy was only just warming up.