Sinner (The Hades Squad #1) (8 page)

A blush a few shades lighter than a ruby rose blossomed over every delicious inch of her body.

“Stop. I can do that myself.”

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head and repeated his order. “Get used to this. This is my job from now on.” Patting her inky pubic curls, he tilted his head and imagined her swollen pussy lips all bare. “Ever had a Brazilian?”

“Whaaat?” she sputtered, slapping at his hand.

“Destiny, lie back and relax,” he ordered when she fidgeted. Laying a palm on her belly, he pushed her into a supine position. “You already have a penalty coming for moving when I told you not to. Don't add another.”

She froze, arms planted at her sides. “Penalty?”

“Yep. I'm thinking a deep-throat session.” He winked and broke into a broad smile when her eyes crossed and her throat worked.

“Or a spanking? Maybe some light bondage?”

Her eyes trailed his hand as he cleaned her; Linc noted the slight dilation of her pupils, the hitch in her even breathing.

She was curious all right, his little kitten. Maybe the next few days would go easier than he'd first calculated.

“How much battery time on your laptop?” He wanted her off balance for their remaining time in the cabin, wanted her following his lead.

She blinked and levered onto her elbows. “Pardon me?”

He suppressed a smile and lightly smoothed the damp cloth over her folds.

You are too easily distracted, Baby Doll.

Pursuing his decided strategy, he reiterated. “Your laptop, how much battery time?”

“Why do you want to know?” A frown marred the perfection of her smooth forehead. “You want to email someone?”

“Nah. So what, nine, ten hours?” he asked, deliberately doubling the normal PC battery time.

“Of course not. Three. I've never heard of a ten-hour battery for any laptop.” An indignant pout commanded her mouth.

Adorable.

Linc threw the damp towel into the bowl and nudged her thighs wider apart. Her legs fell open, and she didn't even look down when he began drying her damp flesh.

“I'll give you a choice of penalty since it's your first offense.” Linc caught her fluttering fingers with one hand, brought her palm to his mouth, and licked the circumference. He studied her expression with a sideways glance. “Ten spanks or watching
Deep Throat
together and trying out one of the scenes?”

She ducked her head.

He dropped the towel and cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“I can't tell if you're serious or not,” she whispered.

“Dead serious, Destiny Driven. But this time I'll choose for you.
Deep Throat.
I checked the time on it earlier, one hour. Maybe we'll do
The Devil in Miss Jones
after.”

She shuttered her eyes and bit her lip.

“What are you thinking, Destiny?”

“Have you done all of that before?” One eyetooth worried her bottom lip. Her gaze dropped to his chest, and her breasts halted their rising and falling.

“All of what? Watched porn? Yeah. Long ago, before I started getting any action.” Deliberately changing the subject, he asked, “Are you hungry? I'm starving. You didn't find any bacon in that freezer, did you?”

“Bacon?” Opulent sooty lashes fluttered and settled a tad below her brows.

“Hmm. I'm thinking I'll whip up hash browns, bacon, eggs, and toast.”

“Are you trying to throw me off subject deliberately?” Lips settling into a sullen slant, she lifted her chin.

“What do you think?” Lincoln couldn't prevent the broad smile capturing his mouth. Smart as a whip, his Destiny; she'd keep him on his toes.

“Did you study interrogation techniques? I think I'm being led down a garden path, and I'm waiting for the gate to slam in my face.” She sat up yoga-style, arms folded, making her breasts mound and plump.

Linc's dick twitched.

“No, there wasn't any bacon, but I did see a small ham. And yes, I
am
hungry.
I'll
make eggs Benedict. I saw a bag of English muffins.” Legs sliding to one side, she shot him a don't-argue-with-me glare.

Linc knew when to retreat. He flashed her what his mom called his boyish-devil grin. “I thought you'd never offer. Hmm, I don't want grease spitting on that luscious bod of yours. Guess you can wear a T-shirt today. No pantie.”

“You are
not
my lord and master.” She stood, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, but had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

Not yet. Soon.

She stomped over to the dresser and squinted at him over one shoulder. “I'll wear a pantie if I so decide.”

He fought a victorious smile and traced the curve of her ass as she bent over. Linc choked back a groan when his aching balls tightened, and he resolved to have her on her hands and knees next fuck—a long, long doggie-style screwing.

Destiny rummaged through her clothes, and she mumbled under her breath, something about chauvinistic paratroopers and pear trees.

Christ, she's adorable. Mom's gonna love her to death.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Where the hell did that come from?

Mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara, he did an about-face, balled his fists, and stalked to the main cabin. Leaning on the cool wooden wall, he gulped in oxygen.

Less than a minute later, Destiny crept into the room wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words
BITE ME
, which fell to an inch above her thighs, winking a peek-a-boo temptation with each step she took. Linc battled the urge to swoop her into his arms. He hated not being able to carry her.

Their gazes met.

She stumbled, and he surrendered, taking two extra-long strides and hooking her knees with one arm.

“I didn't put on the pantie.” She rested her palms on his chest and peeked up at him.

“Fuck, Destiny.” He grunted into the sweet spot between shoulder and neck. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Are you mad at me?”

He hugged her closer. The slight tremble in her voice sent his heart into a somersault. Before he could answer, a booming male voice crackled through static noise. “Satan to Sinner. Come in, Sinner.”

“Cripes!” she yelped and just about climbed up to his neck, looping her arms around his head, all the while darting wide-eyed glances around the room.

He tightened his hold on her and crooned, “It's just the radio. No need to be scared.”

“Radio?”

The pulse at her throat jumped faster, and she stared into his eyes.

“I'd never let anyone hurt you. Not even me, Destiny. Got that?”

Her gaze didn't waver, but she didn't look convinced.

“Destiny?”

The rigid muscles in her back loosened; a delicate pink tongue snaked across her parted lips. She nodded.

Linc hadn't realized he'd stopped breathing until she gave that tiny nod.

“Satan to Sinner. Come in, damn it. Where the fuck are you?”

“I have to answer that. My GPS malfunctioned, and they're probably getting ready to send out a search party. Shit, if I'd have answered Satan when he radioed earlier, we—” Linc clamped his lips together, swallowing the words
…could've gotten out of here yesterday.
No way he'd ever regret not answering Satan. Being stuck in this cabin with Destiny had been fated. And then it hit him.

This is Keechum, Demon's new home away from home.

“Oh.” She blinked a couple of times. “Sinner?”

“I'll explain later. We okay?”

She dipped her chin again, and he couldn't resist kissing the tip of her nose.

Linc glanced down at her while he walked across the room. The solemn expression she wore tickled the little devil riding his shoulder. “Thank you for not wearing panties, Destiny.”

A rosy stain did a frenzied salsa from her collarbone to her forehead. “It wasn’t because you ordered me not to.”

He ignored her petulant grumble, dropped a kiss on her hairline and watched her eyes cross when she tried to keep his face in focus. She felt warm and soft in all the right places, and she suited him to a tee.

“How're you feeling? Sore?”

“I wouldn't know.” She folded her arms. “If I could actually walk a couple of steps, maybe I could test things. Do you have something against panties?”

“Nope, just don't want you wearing any when we're alone. I prefer unfettered access. See?” He winked when she scowled, and he kneaded one ass cheek. “All your bounty laid out for me.”

“Why won't you put me down?”

“I like having you right here.” He snagged her bottom lip between his teeth. “You smell good. You feel great. I'll let you cook breakfast after I talk to Satan. How's that? Now cuddle up while I get him on the line.”

Linc used his foot to drag the stool to the right of the chest under the small built-in desk and then sat. He tucked her head under his chin, picked up a small navy radio, and stabbed Open Call. Waves of static coasted around the small room.

“Sinner calling Satan. Come in, Satan.”

A long beep, then another, a series of high-pitched squeaks, the sound of a snarled expletive. “SITREP, Sinner. You okay?”

“No injuries. Holed up at Keechum. No worries.”

“Keechum? I'm guessing you're not in a hurry to be found.”

Why in fucking hell did Satan have that devil in his voice?

“Spill.”

“Demon loaned Keechum to a certain luscious editor. I'm guessing you're sinning your way to Hades.” A snicker followed by a snorted guffaw broke over the airways.

“Stand down, Satan.” Linc tried to grab Destiny before she squirmed off his lap, but she batted his hand away and snapped, “Twit. Egotistical maniac.”

Certain Satan had earned the monikers and not him, Linc cut her a glance. She seemed totally unaware of her near nudity or the chill in the room; hands planted on hips, she glared at the radio he gripped.

“By the way, the rest of the squad's on location.”

What in fucking hell had happened between Destiny and Satan?

Adding his own scowl to the Motorola unit in his hand, he asked, “Fire?”

“Not enough moisture coming down and the wind speed's picking up.” A two-second pause. Lincoln gritted his teeth as a whispered conversation he couldn't make out wove in and out of the static. “Lucifer reckons two days before it's contained.”

“Weather?”

Out of the corner of one eye, he spied Destiny's bare foot tapping on the wooden floor.

“Lull's expected to last another hour. No break then for two days.”

He hated having his squad fighting a blaze without him. Adolescent friendship cemented by serving on the same team since their first deployment, he and Satan, aka Lorcan McGuillycuddy, didn't need words to communicate. Satan's retirement to Healy a year ago hadn't changed that fact. He hadn't begun to voice the next question before Satan spoke.

“Not your fault, Sinner. Nothing you can do. By the way, Demon reminded me there's an emergency generator at the back of Keechum, near the tree line. It'll power the basics, a couple appliances.”

“Could have used that info yesterday.”

“You weren't picking up yesterday. I wonder why.” Satan snickered. “Those tits as juicy as I imagine?”

“Stand down, Satan,” Linc growled when Destiny cuffed his shoulder, and then she set up for a right jab, feet diagonal in classic boxing stance.

Crap.

Linc rose and moved to the right of the desk, out of target distance.

Nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed to slits, lips flattened into a thin line, she shuffled forward.

What the fuck had her in such a temper?

Nope, no steam rose from her ears, but something had stoked her to near-exploding. Quickly he replayed the conversation with Satan.

Was it the line about her tits?

Time to end the radio communication.

“Same time tomorrow, Satan. Over and out.” Lincoln settled the mic back on its stand and then turned to study her, his thumb scraping his jaw.

“
That
was Lorcan McGuillycuddy, wasn't it?” Black eyes snapping a firestorm, she spat, “
He's
the one who has Nadine all riled up.
He's
the reason she wants me demoted.”

Destiny stood, feet planted, hands fisted in front of her face as her scumbag ex-boyfriend Kenny had taught her.

Kenny, who'd been having an affair with her ex-best friend, Juanita Sender, the whole time they'd been dating.

Anger flamed. Rational, analytical editor training went up in smoke, and her right jab caught Linc's inflexible bicep. She followed with an uppercut and yelped when unyielding muscle crushed the fingers wrapped over her thumb.

“Always hold your thumb over your fingers, Destiny,” the damned paratrooper commented, his voice even, soothing as if he spoke to a two-year-old, not even blinking after her two punches. “Here, let me kiss it better.”

“Don't touch me,” she barked, holding up a hand. “Don't you take another step.”

She sucked her injured thumb. “Men. Root of all evil.”

“You know you don't mean that, Destiny,” he coaxed, and somehow without her noticing, he'd moved to touching distance.

No, no.

She couldn't think.

All the seething rage she'd buried when Kenny and Juanita's sex tape had been broadcasted over the Internet and on local television stations exploded, and a dancing haze blurred Linc's features. Words spewed from Destiny's lips. “Your buddy Satan, and I've never heard a more apt sobriquet, is the damned reason Nadine’s accused me of sexual harassment. As in me sexually harassing him. She even filed a complaint with the HR department. That’s going to go on my file permanently. Jackass that he is, Lorcan McGuillycuddy offered me a thousand dollars if I'd model the whip and boots and collar. Naked.”

Linc's eyes narrowed, and the wide step he took in her direction shouted menace.

“Don't touch me.” She wriggled away from his palm when he cupped her shoulder, and she swatted his hands. “In front of the entire population of Healy. In front of Nadine, who'd actually volunteered to meet me at the airport.”

Destiny elbowed the arms attempting to hold her. “Do you know how much crow I had to swallow to get her to that point? It's taken me weeks and weeks of flattering, cajoling, and bending over and taking it up the ass.”