Authors: Joni Hahn
With all of the talk about clones and twentieth century wars, she wondered if she worked for people that were mentally unsound. If they used some kind of brainwashing techniques, she wouldn’t fall victim to them.
She backed toward the door. “I think all of you are mad.”
With furrowed brows, Clint spoke with a note of challenge in his voice. “No scientific curiosity, doctor? You’re just going to walk out, certain there are no rational explanations?”
She’d seen some kind of tremendous powers down there. Yet, logic told her she couldn’t trust her eyes.
Her back hit a hard barricade, the smell of sweat and paint blanketing her in doubt. Whipping around, she found Dylan behind her, shirtless and so overwhelmingly male he stole her breath. A rocky wall of hard muscle and sinew, his ripped body gleamed with dots of perspiration, his powerful arms and shoulders blocking the open doorway like a mountainside.
His blue-green eyes shone with contempt. “You can’t tell her anything, Robinson. She’s a world-renowned geneticist. She knows it all.”
The other men walked around him to enter the room, also shirtless and reeking of paint.
Rising on tiptoe in her high-heeled wedges, she stared up at him through her glasses. Anything not to ogle his six-pack abs. “Look who thinks he knows it all.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, making his shoulders appear enormous. “Hit a nerve, Hamilton?”
“Rose…” Mitchell’s voice came out on a sigh. “Show her your armbands.”
The big, hulking man left Hope’s side and approached her. Holding his arms in front of her, he flipped them over. The armbands
fused to his flesh
.
Her heart racing, she grasped one arm and studied the fusion site. Flipping it back over, she looked at the blank screen. Her gaze went to Clint, before landing on Rose’s smirking face.
He said, “I have a microchip that works with a capacitor in my head to emit stored electricity through my central nervous system and accelerate my muscles. My strength enhancement is powered by carbohydrate intake to my brain.”
Teague’s heart pounded against her ribs, her mouth dropping open.
“Saint…” Mitchell said, nodding toward her.
With a quick flip of his arms, he showed her his armbands. “My hands can create north and south magnetic poles. I can attract, repel or bend any ferrous materials I choose.” His voice rang with pride. “I have a solid hydrogen energy source that powers a control module integrated with my hands to read my brain activity. If I think it, it happens.” Pulling a knife from an ankle strap, he attracted and repelled it between his hands.
She could do nothing but stare, her mind on complete overload. Clint Robinson and Mitchell Jacobs had turned these men into some kind of… superheroes. They’d manipulated their bodies, integrated science and technology with the human form to create super humans.
Staring at Mitchell, she said, “You’re no better than Cyrus, manipulating people for your own purposes.” She willed away the guilt that nagged at her conscience.
His hard glare dared her to balk. “My purposes are to keep the world and its people safe. I’m not trying to change the human race or annihilate those I deem unworthy. If you can’t see that, perhaps I’ve given you more credit than you deserve.”
“Credit?” she said, “How can I give
you
credit when you speak of helping the outcome of World War II? That’s madness.”
Jocelyn’s low voice broke the tense silence like a shot in the dark. “My fiancé has the power to time travel. If you look up my birth records, Teague, you’ll find I was born in nineteen twenty.”
Her chest tightened like the onset of dysesthesias, a MS hug, squeezing her diaphragm to near closure. Shaking her head in disbelief, she backed against Dylan. He caught her shoulders in his hands, sending jolts of arousal darting through her veins. Flinching, she whipped around to stare at him.
“It’s the truth, Teague. Drop that rational wall of pride and think about it.” His genuine smile made her pounding heart gallop. “It’s pretty damned cool.”
Time travel, super powers and World War II? Good God, these people were
playing
God. Changing history, the laws of time and physics… changing the world, as she’d always known it.
“You’re asking me to believe in the impossible.”
His twinkling blue-green eyes dared her to relent. “Is it really impossible, or have you only been told it’s impossible?”
“Teague…” Clint held out his arms to encompass the people in the room. “Didn’t you go to work for Cyrus in search of a breakthrough? New technology? Your work with synthetic DNA and genetics has put you on the cutting edge in your field. Doesn’t the opportunity to combine both medicine and physics turn you on just a little?”
She glanced up at Dylan. It did. God above, it excited her like nothing she’d felt in a long time. Combine her work with Dylan’s irresistible appeal and she was near orgasmic.
Inhaling deep, she let out a breath, hoping to relieve the tightness in her chest. She couldn’t lose sight of her true agenda. Short-term thrills could not outweigh a healthy baby.
Giving Dylan’s body a swift once-over, she grabbed his armband. It strapped to his arm with metal bands.
“You’re going to receive an enhancement?”
His eyes swirled beneath heavy-lids. “Yes.”
“Why would you allow them to do this to your body?”
He gave her a half grin. “Teague, I’m a Jarhead, a third-generation Marine. Fighting for freedom, fighting to make the world a safer place is what I was born to do. The opportunity to work for D.I.R.E. is an honor. I believe in their mission.” Lowering his voice, he said, “But, make no mistake, I want it for personal reasons, too.”
“And, they are…?”
“To make sure that technology you’re studying never sees the outside world. I won’t rest until Cyrus and his clones are wiped from this earth.”
***
Luke Powers paced his office as he waited for Mitchell to answer his videoconference call. He teetered on the edge of lunacy, his mind unable to concentrate on anything other than the betrayal of his father and wife.
“Luke.”
Whipping around, Luke stared at the arrogant sonovabitch on the screen. A hard ass of the third degree, Mitchell Jacobs was as egotistical and straightforward as they came. Luke really didn’t like the former SEAL commander and head of D.I.R.E., but he was his son’s boss and his daughter’s new business associate. He’d suck it up and make the best of it.
“Mitchell,” he said, feigning a cordial smile. “Thanks for taking my call.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to San Diego to meet with you in person. We’re neck deep in work. My time is valuable.”
As head of the largest technology company in the world, Luke understood that. He shouldn’t be spending valuable time obsessed with issues involving people that were dead.
At least… they were dead
today
.
“Mitchell, I’ll get straight to the point. You have access to time travel technology that I’d like to use. Name your price.”
Mitchell gave him a hard stare. “It’s not for rent.”
Luke slumped his shoulders. He’d expected resistance. Mitchell never made anything easy. He was a lot like Luke’s father, Seth - the conniving, two-faced, dead bastard.
“Mitchell, I have a serious situation-“
“I know all about your situation, Luke.” Sitting up in his chair, he said, “You’re not going to use our time travel technology to inflict revenge on your father or your wife.”
Running his fingers through his hair, Luke glared at Mitchell on the large screen. “It isn’t
your
technology, Jacobs. My father financed Nathan Chalmers’s time travel machine. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“
That
time machine exploded, Powers. You know that.”
He gave Mitchell a bitter smile. “You have the second one. The machine the opposition built during World War II.”
Mitchell gave an adamant shake of his head. “No way in hell.”
Curse words rolled through Luke’s head like scattered marbles. People always had a price. Mitchell just held his cards close to his vest. Luke needed to feel him out and see what he coveted, other than his beloved wife.
“Jacobs, you know what its like to be betrayed by your wife…”
The former SEAL leaned forward in his chair, his eyes blazing with blue fury. “Is there anything else, Powers? If not, I have better things to do than talk about my personal life. Least of all with you.”
“Shit, Mitchell, I need answers.” He paced the length of his conference table, wearing a path in the plush, tan carpet. “I have to know if Cyrus’s information is true.”
“You have the documentation you need,” Mitchell said. “Your father’s files are the proof.”
“My father had so many legal documents altered and destroyed I don’t know what is real.” Rubbing his forehead, Luke said, “I need to see for myself if she had an affair with my father.” Looking away, he growled in frustration. “I need the truth or I’ll go mad.”
Mitchell said, “What would you do if you found her in bed with him? Anything you’d do would alter the future. I can’t allow that to happen.”
He whipped around to glare at Mitchell. “Who the hell made you guardian of the freaking time portal?”
His calm voice irritated Luke to no end. “Chalmers and Von Fussenhoffer, when they landed the time machine in my backyard. As for Clint’s technology, it
is
property of D.I.R.E. so I
am
guardian of the freaking time portal, whether you like it or not.”
Rage pounded in Luke’s ears, his vision clouding behind a crimson haze. “Go to hell, Mitchell.”
“I’ve already been there, Powers. The key to yours is finding your own way out.”
Luke stood hands on hips, nostrils flaring. “That’s rich, coming from you. You brought back your wife from the past. It’s okay for you to use the technology, but no one else.”
“She made that decision, Powers. Not me.”
Leaning back his head against his shoulders, Luke shouted a string of vicious expletives.
Mitchell’s low voice echoed over the office speaker system. “Move on, Powers. Don’t look back.”
Screw you
.
“I have a call coming in.” The television screen went blank.
With a wild sweep of his arm, Luke sent a vase flying off its pedestal. He wasn’t used to being turned down. There was
always
a way.
It wasn’t through Mitchell Jacobs.
The truth lay in the past, before his time, before his farce of a marriage.
Dropping down into a conference table chair, he covered his face with both hands.
The key to yours is finding your own way out.
How did he find his way out of the betrayal, out of the lies his life had been built upon?
He’d never lived under an umbrella of truth. Kim and his father had existed before he was even born. Hope was conceived in a web of deceit, and Riordan…
His chest tightened into a painful knot. Annie, his beautiful, sweet Annie. He’d loved her more than life, more than his family’s money.
When she’d broken off all contact with him, he’d died a slow death. Little had he known, his father had forced her and Riordan out of his life.
A life he would have adored. A life he would give anything to have now.
He sat up in the chair. Perhaps, Mitchell was right. Rather than wallowing in the lies and anger, he needed to focus on the good. The greatest form of revenge against a bastard like Seth Powers would be his own happiness.
Luke jumped up and went to his desk. He’d find a way around Mitchell Jacobs – and get back to Annie.
Three days later, a pretty technician led Dylan into an exam room off the main lab. Clint wanted tests run to ensure he was in good health before they installed his new enhancement tomorrow. Sending this beauty to help proved his libido passed the test.
“So, you’re having an enhancement installed tomorrow…” Shutting the door, she leaned against it and gave him a sultry smile.
Sitting on the exam bed, he whipped his shirt over his head. Her eyes darkened as she sidled closer.
“Yes, I am.” He smiled down at the tech’s cute face. “But, my calendar is wide open tonight.”
“Afraid not.” Teague walked through the door, her sweet, flowery scent filling the room and ruining the mood.
Today, she wore her dark hair down around her shoulders, the fat, loose curls shimmering like blue-black silk in the overhead lights. She stepped over to the computer and entered the password.
“Why?” He glared at her back.
The cute technician skirted out of the room with a small wave.
Dammit
.
“Because you have to stay in the prep room so Clint can monitor your vitals on the pre-enhancement meds.”
She worked at the computer, her profile like a kid’s graphic novel dream. Her round, full breast narrowed to a slim waist, before flaring into a rounded hip. The black skirt and pink, pearl-button sweater hugged her curves, outlining a damned near perfect body.
The doc was built like a brick house.
“I need to take your temperature, McCall.”
Pulling a plastic thermometer from a package, she slipped it under his tongue without meeting his eyes. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t looked at him at all since she walked into the room.
She took his hand in hers and wrapped a blood pressure monitor around his wrist. Her flesh felt like soft butter against his skin, her nearness throwing his healthy libido into acceleration mode. Watching the machine monitor his pulse and blood pressure, she kept her face averted, while he sat with the damned thermometer under his tongue.
Why was she giving him the cold shoulder?
He’d
rescued
her
from Cyrus’s clones and had carried her –
carried her
– across crushed glass so she wouldn’t cut her feet.
He wouldn’t think about how her fingers in his hair sent goose bumps across his nape.
Taking the thermometer from his mouth, she looked at it before showing it to him, her gaze back on the monitor.
“Ninety-eight point four,” she said.
Squinting, he studied her stoic profile. She had the smallest nose he’d ever seen on a woman.
“Yeah, so?”
The monitor powered down before she turned the display toward him. His vitals were perfect.
“I know you don’t trust me, McCall. I don’t want you accusing me of falsifying your test results.”
Walking back to the computer, she entered the information, her fingers flying over the keys. That rounded backside of hers was damned near mouthwatering. How could a doctor who sat in a lab all day have an ass that pert?
“I have every right to be suspicious,” he said. “Wouldn’t you feel that way, under the circumstances?”
“What I would feel is irrelevant, Agent McCall.” Opening a cabinet above her head, she pulled down some medical supplies.
He hated logical women. They made too much sense. The erratic, fly-off-the-handle type he could handle. He could dismantle their arguments with little effort. With smart women, he had to work at it.
Walking over to the bed, she tore open a package and set a vial beside his hip. “Lay back.”
He refused to move until she looked at him. “No.”
Her gaze met his, disbelief lining her silver eyes. She stood less than a foot away, her mouth parted in surprise. Her top lip curved like the back end of a bow, her bottom lip plump and juicy.
“Do you want these tests, McCall? Or, would you rather have someone else do them?”
The smell of peppermint on her breath drew him closer. “Why have you been avoiding eye contact? Do you have something to hide?”
Her brows furrowed, her gaze dropping to his bare chest before looking back at the package in her hand.
“See what I mean?” he said.
Glancing up, she said, “What do you want from me?” She leaned in even closer, their noses nearly touching. “Is that better?”
His body stirred in his shorts, his lungs stuffed with down feathers. Behind those glasses blazed eyes like quicksilver, luminous and filled with ire.
Gripping the edge of the bed, he itched to grab her around that narrow waist and pull her between his legs. Something told him Dr. Teague Hamilton wouldn’t disappoint in the bedroom.
Damn, he should not feel aroused around this woman. Yet, for some stupid reason, her evasion freaking turned him on.
“You need to work on your bedside manner, Doctor.” He flashed her a cocky grin.
A slow smile blossomed on her face, a pink blush coloring her cheeks. “Would you just shut it and lay back?”
“I rest my case.” He lay back on the bed and propped his arms behind his head. His Johnson sat at semi-erect attention, hoping she’d pay it a little notice.
Of course, she looked anywhere but there.
“I need an arm – unless you want me to take it straight from your jugular.” She cocked a dark, arched eyebrow.
“All of my blood flow is in my shorts at the moment. Any chance you want to help me divert it?”
The ire in her eyes turned to silver fire, her voice going husky. “Sounds…
tempting
, but I wouldn’t want you to lower your standards for a criminal.”
“I’m into bad girls… just FYI.”
“And, I’m into bad boys. Too bad you’re one of the good guys.” With a cheeky grin, she held out her hand. “Arm.”
Teague Hamilton was what his grandfather called a smart-aleck.
Pulling an arm from under his head, he brushed it against her breast. She caught her breath.
“Sorry, Doc. I didn’t-“
“Cheap shots will get you nowhere.” Her eyes met his, the silver irises now burning a dark gray, her cheeks flushed rather than pink.
Insult pricked at his pride. He’d never taken a cheap shot at a woman and never would. He had no need. They always succumbed eagerly.
“Cheap shot? That was an accident.” He challenged her to admit her mistake.
Her words came out in a breathless rush. “Forget it…”
Leaning over, she tied a tourniquet around his bicep. She looked everywhere but at his face, her neckline dipping to expose a healthy dose of cleavage. Her plump breasts hung inches from his mouth, teasing him.
Calling him.
Extending his arm, she checked the veins at the crook of his elbow, her fingers brushing over his skin with feather-light movements. Goose bumps sprang up on his arm.
How could she work as if nothing happened? As if she didn’t feel the pull between them, see his Johnson at full alert?
He caught her wrist. Stilling, she wouldn’t look at him.
The pulse pounded at her throat. Sitting up, he grasped her waist. Her hand clamped over his, to stop him or encourage him, he wasn’t sure. Sliding his hand up her ribcage, he stopped just shy of the underside of her breast. She exhaled through her nose, her breath mingling with his to echo in the silent room.
“Teague…”
He covered her breast. She sucked in a breath, her lids falling shut over dazed eyes. Kneading her with languid strokes, he caught her around the waist and pulled her close. She leaned into his caress, her palms flat against his bare chest.
“I won’t let you use me.” She smoothed her hands over his bare shoulders, raising sparks under his skin.
“Use you?” he said, scooting to the edge of the bed, her hips flush against his hardness. “I’ve never used a woman in my life.” Blood rushed through his ears, buoying his inner pride.
Covering his hand at her breast, she showed him how she liked it – before crushing her mouth to his.
Hell… yeah. She plundered his mouth, her kiss hungry, blatant in what she wanted and how. Grabbing her ass in both hands, he kneaded her with greedy strokes, before grinding her core against him.
She broke away on a moan. “You really expect me to believe that every time you slept with a woman, it meant something?”
Pressing his mouth to hers again, he took what he wanted, his tongue delving deep, forcing her to surrender the damned pride she held like a shield between them.
He pulled away this time, his hands finding the hem of her skirt and raising it up her thighs. “Yes, dammit. I’ve never slept with a woman that didn’t want to be there.”
She kissed him again, her breasts crushed against his chest. He caressed one bare ass cheek, eliciting another groan from her throat.
Breaking the kiss, she gave his face and bare chest a heated glance. “I’m sure. What woman could resist a man with your… assets?”
Staring into her eyes, he skimmed his fingers along her inner thigh. She spread her legs wider. His fingers glided higher, finding a pool of moisture at the crotch of her panties. She dropped back her head and moaned low.
“Including you…” he said, as he sucked her earlobe with gentle strokes.
“No…” Her voice sounded like a rush of wind.
Slipping beneath the elastic, he found her folds swollen and slick. “Your body proves you lie.” He dipped a finger inside her. They groaned in unison.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tilted her hips against his hand. He had to have her. She had him so damned hard he hurt.
He licked at the pulse in her throat, before grazing his teeth along her tender flesh.
“Dylan, no...” She clutched the back of his head as he trailed kisses down her décolleté, his tongue skimming along the edge of her sweater. Her breaths came heavy now.
“No?” He smiled against her cleavage, his finger playing in her heat. Damn, he loved her scent, but combine it with the smell of sex?
He was freaking gone.
“You’re not supposed to get aroused this close to the enhancement.” Swallowing hard, she reached beside her before delving into the leg of his shorts and taking him in her soft, moist fist.
Oh,
shit
…
He dropped his forehead against her shoulder and showed her how to please him. “A little too late for that.”
She removed his finger from inside her.
“
No
,” he groaned, her hand confident as she pleasured him.
“You’ll owe me, McCall.” She whispered the words in his ear. “Right now, I need a sperm sample.” He heard her fumble beside him.
All thought faded into obscurity as she took him to the brink of release in a way he’d never allowed a woman to do. He didn’t know how the tables had turned, but he felt helpless to stop them.
“You’re going to get more than you bargained for…” He leaned back his head against his shoulders, her teeth along his earlobe making him shudder.
“I’ve always loved overachievers,” she said, taking his damp finger into her mouth.
His climax exploded in a blanket of fireworks.
***
“Nanorobotics, Clint?”
Teague glanced at her new boss, then her other new boss, but refused to look at Dylan. She didn’t think she could ever face him again.
She said, “Exposure to nanoparticles can cause DNA and chromosome damage, resulting in cancer, heart disease, neurological disorders... even aging.”
Taking a sip of coffee, Mitchell set down his cup on the prep room counter and propped his hip against the cabinet. “Teague, Dylan is fully aware of the risks involved.”
Clint squinted at his computer monitor where Dylan’s heart rate spiked each time she paced in front of him. She knew the feeling. She’d walked out of that exam room mortified, unfulfilled, but so turned on it alarmed her.
She’d had no intention of taking that sperm sample. It just happened. However, once she knew it was inevitable, a thought had occurred to her: she could use Dylan’s sperm for her baby.
After all, he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and he appeared quite healthy. She couldn’t select a better specimen for her baby. He would never know he fathered a child, and she would never tell him.
That didn’t prevent her from wanting to stick her head in the sand outside the window.
“It’s not as dangerous as it once was, Teague.” With a glare at Dylan, Clint rolled away from his computer to sit in the center of the lab. “Plus, we’ve lined the nanobots with sheets of graphene, which is the strongest compound ever discovered. It will shield him from exposure. Considering his delicate situation, I think this enhancement is most suitable to his talents, and less-invasive.”
Teague glanced at Dylan who, based on everything she’d… touched, appeared so far from delicate it proved comical.
“What delicate situation?”
Rising from his chair, Dylan went to the view box on the wall and removed an x-ray. He handed it to her. Heat blossomed in her face.