Running Scared (Mercenaries) (3 page)

It was her turn to chuckle. “Not into sharing? That’s too bad. Your sarge looked like he could make a girl very happy.”

“I’m sure he makes Dee very happy. And she returns the favour, so you’re going to have to settle for just me. And no, I definitely don’t like the idea of sharing one luscious square of your tender flesh with my teammates. They can damn well go find their own women.”

Saralyn jumped as his hand came down on her buttocks, just hard enough to smart. He didn’t want to share her. Now why did that send a hot thrill spiralling through her gut? “So where’s this room of yours?”

“Not nearly as close as I’d like.”

In the blink of an eye Saralyn found herself scooped up in Jackson’s muscular arms. Striding out of the common room, he headed down a long hallway and kicked open a door on the left. He ducked to avoid hitting his head on the low doorway, crossing the room to toss her on an overstuffed bed against the far wall.

“Strip.” He grunted out the single word, and then proceeded to follow his own order. Saralyn sucked in a long breath as he skimmed his pants down over his hips, uncovering his cock. Long and thick, it curved proudly upward. Oh yeah. She needed to get herself some of that.

Completely naked, Jackson pounced on the bed, straddling her. Flashing her a wide, sexy grin, he cupped her head in his hands. “So how come you still have clothes on?”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and Saralyn allowed herself to return the grin. It was just sex, after all. “The sight of your magnificent body had me so captivated I couldn’t move.” She batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated flirt.

“I can see how that could be a problem.” Barely suppressed laughter sounded in his voice. “I have that effect on a lot of women. Don’t worry though, I can help get you past it.” Reaching down, he grasped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up over her head before flicking the front clasp of her bra open. The lacy material sprang apart, allowing her breasts to spill free. Cool air feathered across the sensitive mounds, causing her nipples to form into hard-pebbled peaks.

“Gorgeous! Do you have any idea how exotically tempting you look?” Jackson’s eyes darkened with desire. Lowering his head, he traced each dark circle with the tip of his tongue.

Saralyn gasped as shivers of pleasure washed through her. He was so large, so amazingly male. She felt incredibly open and vulnerable, her legs spread wide while she lay trapped beneath his superior weight with only the thickness of her jeans between him and her total surrender. She was operating purely on instinct, perfectly aware that it could lead to any number of undesirable results. And she didn’t care. Reaching down, she unsnapped the closure on her jeans.

Jackson worked his way down her body, kissing and licking every available inch of bare flesh. She could feel the warm heat radiating from his bare skin as he worshipped her body with his mouth and hands. His tongue traced a line just above the waistband of her jeans, and he raised his head.

Saralyn’s breath caught in her throat at the deeply sensual expression in his expressive eyes. Tension radiated in every line of his body, in the bold set of his face. Jackson was not some weak government official that she could manipulate with sex. She had a feeling that as a lover, he would be more addictive than any drug. The thought was intoxicating.

His eyes glittered as he pushed the denim down over her hips, leaving her covered in nothing but a scrap of lace that revealed more than it hid.

Saralyn moaned softly, her skin overly sensitive to the fleeting contact of his fingers. A crooked grin curved the corner of his mouth as he shifted his body down and sucked the lace into his mouth. His warm breath feathered across her hairless mound, sending flickers of erotic heat pulsing through her.

Oh ye gods! How much more of this could she stand? She lifted her hips up off the bed and wriggled the lace panties down over her hips.

Jackson chuckled softly and helped her to send the offending panties flying to the corner of the room before stroking one finger across the tiny bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

Saralyn gasped for breath, closing her eyes tightly as desire spiralled through her. She bucked her hips upward while Jackson teased her mercilessly, circling one finger just inside the slick entrance to her sex and then withdrawing it again.

“More, damn it!” She didn’t recall ever begging a man before.

“More what? More of this?” He eased a second finger inside her while moving the first back and forth across her clit.

Saralyn grabbed his wrist and forced his finger deep inside her.
Oh yeah. Much better
. “Don’t be a bastard. You know what I want.”

Jackson didn’t bother to answer, but sat back on his heels to bury a second finger inside her. A darkly evil grin adorned his ruggedly handsome face.

Saralyn stared at his massive cock, hard and erect and promising to deliver everything she needed, everything she wanted. Part of her wanted to get up and run away, far from this man who could elicit such a pulse-pounding response from her without even trying. The other part of her wanted to impale herself on that delicious shaft. “Please.” The word escaped her lips, soft and pleading.

“Now that’s more like it.” Jackson dipped his head to devour her lips. Was it possible for someone to be savage and gentle at the same time? His mouth moved over hers, plundering and worshipping in turn.

He shifted his weight, and Saralyn could feel the tip of his massive cock pressing against the damp entrance to her sex. It was the most intensely erotic sensation that she’d ever experienced. “Damn you!” She arched upward, trying to impale herself on his rigid shaft. “I need you inside me.”

“And I need to be inside you.” He cupped her face in his hands, staring straight into her eyes as he thrust deep, burying himself to the balls in her moist channel.

Reality blurred. All she could feel, all she could think about was the incredible sensations created by the movement of his cock inside her. He surged into her again and again. She could feel him, hot and huge, stretching her to the very limits. This was what she’d been missing all her life. Sex had never been so mind-blowingly intense, so exceptionally powerful. Every fiber of her being felt alive, every nerve quivered with erotic heat.

She moaned and whimpered as Jackson thrust into her again and again, groaning at each thrust as the tension between them escalated until the heat of their passion consumed her and a wave of pure sensual heat threw her up and over the edge into a fiery climax.

Jackson let out a shout of triumph, and thrust one last time, unleashing his own climax and filling her with his hot seed. They clung to each other for endless moments, unable to summon the energy to move. Finally, Jackson rolled over and lay beside her, one leg thrown carelessly across her thighs.

Saralyn felt good. Amazingly good. Replete. Satisfied. Totally and utterly spent. How had he managed to pull her so completely into his reality, so thoroughly into the sensual storm of his lovemaking? Never before had she lost herself so completely in the act of sex.

She sighed contentedly. Maybe later she’d worry about it. Right now, she just wanted to close her eyes and snuggle against Jackson’s solid, reassuring bulk.

“Hey, I found something!” Trace burst into the room and Jackson grabbed the sheet to pull it up over Saralyn’s sleeping figure.

Normally it wouldn’t matter that the guys were so casual about their personal space. “Ever heard of knocking?” It was hard to be mad in the face of Trace’s boyish enthusiasm.

“Knocking? Why? Oh, sorry!” He had the grace to look ashamed for a total of thirty seconds. “But guess what I found in the enforcers’ file server.”

“My brother?” Saralyn poked her head out from behind Trace’s shoulder. The hope in her voice was palatable.

“Um, not exactly. At least not yet. I found an internal memo and I think they’re talking about you.” He held out a tablet for Jackson to see. “If this is her, she really is what you thought.”

“What you thought?” Saralyn frowned.

Trace had the tact of a two-year-old with an attention problem! Jackson glared at him, and then sighed as Saralyn waited for him to say something. “I think what Trace means is that I suspect you are one of the lost children. You knew that. It’s doubtful that your abilities are the result of any kind of natural mutation, which leaves only gene splitting or a surgical implant to explain your exceptional talents.” He turned to take the proffered tablet.

“Oh shit!” The face that stared at him from the screen was a slightly younger version of Saralyn. From the slight inconsistencies, he guessed it was a computer enhancement of an older picture, probably one from when she first escaped from the lab. There was no longer any doubt that she was indeed one of the lost children. A chain with a number hung around her neck. Seventy-two. That was her number, and most likely the only name the lab had gifted her with. The caption sent a chill right down to his toes.

Missing lab experiment. Reward for return, any condition. Dangerous. Do not attempt to apprehend. If seen call the nearest barracks and keep the subject in sight until help arrives
.

He glanced at the date on the article. Just last month. Someone must have seen Saralyn and resurrected the search. Her picture would have been on the gallery of females at the arena where they’d rescued her. Maybe one of the enforcers had seen it and made the connection. He noted that they avoided referring to her as human, a tactic meant to dehumanize a target. It was easier to do bad things to people if you didn’t consider them people. Not good. Not good at all.

“Can I see that, or are you trying to stare a hole through it?” The dry humor in Saralyn’s voice brought a flicker of a smile to his face.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it. Never met a female yet that liked her own picture.” He handed her the tablet.

Saralyn studied the picture in silence, hugging the blankets up around her shoulders. Trace shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not saying a word. He was a whole lot better with computers than people, especially people he barely knew like Saralyn.

“That doesn’t leave a lot to discuss, does it?” She sighed, a heartbreaking sound. “If I’m one of those kids, I was an orphan that someone sold to them. I can’t have a brother. I probably dreamed the whole thing up to make myself feel better.”

“Maybe not. There’s something else I found as well.” Trace plucked the tablet out of her hands and tapped it a few times, pulling up a different picture. “This guy is about your age, and according to his file he was severely disciplined for leaving one of the lab doors unlocked. One of the lost children escaped, and while he managed to track her for a time across the lower parts of the town the subject eventually gave him the slip. That girl was never recovered and I’m betting that girl is you. The boy you remember may not be a blood relative, but he let you escape despite knowing he would be harshly reprimanded. Only his brilliance in the Provincial skirmishes a few years back managed to get his career back on track.” He handed Saralyn the tablet. “This is the boy. Do you recognize him?”

Jackson watched the expressions chase each other across her expressive face as she stared at the tablet. Apprehension. Recognition. Jubilation. Uncertainty.

“Yes. That’s him.” She looked up. “He’s not my brother, he was one of my keepers. I wonder if he ever wonders what happened to me. He never came back, but at least now I understand. If he did, he would have led the searchers right to me. It would have been like signing my death warrant. What’s his name? I never even knew his name.”

“Brice.” Trace’s face relaxed. “The enforcers don’t use last names -- just their legion number. His is the forty-third division so he goes by Brice forty-three. He was promoted to head of the second squad just last month. That’s about as high as you can get in the military without political connections.”

“Do you think he’d want to see me again? Or does he regret having let me go.” She chewed on her bottom lip, looking frail and uncertain.

Jackson slipped a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Who knows what an enforcer feels. How about we get some clothes back on?” He gave Trace a pointed look. “Maybe Trace can see what he can find out about this Brice and then we can discuss options. You don’t want to go running right back into the hands of the guys who want you back in any condition. That’s a fancy way of saying ‘dead or alive’.”

Saralyn nodded, pulling the sheet up to her chin.

“I’ll get a full report on the guy and meet you in the strategy room, okay?” Trace took the tablet from her.

“Sounds good. How much time do you need?”

Trace shrugged, a confident grin on his face. “An hour, tops. Now that I have a name and a face it’s like taking ammo from a squad of newbie guards.”

“Well, make sure the guards don’t know who’s interested in them.” The last thing Jackson wanted was to have a division of enforcers descend on their little hideaway. As it stood, the government troops had bigger fish to fry, so they conveniently ignored the ragtag groups of mercenaries plying their trade in the inner provinces.

Trace gave him a mock salute before ducking out the doorway, tablet in hand. “See you in the strategy room in one.”

Jackson turned to Saralyn. “I suppose that means we’d better get up and get some clothes on. You want a shower before you get dressed?”

A slow, sensuous smile lit up her delicate features, and sent a blaze of heat curling through his groin. Her eyes danced with mischief as she put the tip of one finger in her mouth. “Sounds heavenly. Care to join me? We could save water and be good environmental citizens at the same time.” She sucked on the finger suggestively.

“Hell yeah!” He threw the bedcover aside and scooped her up in his arms. “A good environmental citizen, that’s me!” They were both deliciously naked, and he admired the soft caramel color of her skin against his own. Her soft skin glowed with a healthy sheen, contrasting sharply with the battle scars that crisscrossed his own tough hide. He had no idea why she hadn’t slapped him silly the first time he’d dared to touch her, but since she appeared to find him desirable he didn’t intend to give her enough time to rethink her decision.