Protector: The Elect, Book 1 (9 page)

No, this was agony, and she wanted ecstasy. She was on fire, burning for him, for the pleasure she knew he could bring her. And if he wouldn’t get on with it, she would. Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt. He froze. She was shaking, but she got them undone and exposed his broad, hard chest. Sighing, she leaned in to do some tasting of her own. He was warm, a bit salty, and oh, so male. She could get addicted to his unique flavor, but she wanted more.
 

She slid her hands down his chest, over his rigid abdomen to hover over the button at the top of his jeans. Groaning, he thrust his pelvis against her hand and she unsnapped his jeans, pulled down his zipper, but hesitated, suddenly unsure.
 

“Don’t stop now, angel,” he growled.
 

The yearning in his voice urged her on, and she reached inside the open edges of his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear, so her fingers moved straight to the rigid flesh of his cock. She moaned as her fingers wrapped around him, stroked him, but it wasn’t enough. He’d tasted her. Now she wanted a turn.
 

She slowly dropped to her knees, dragging his jeans down his thighs as she did, until he jutted out in front of her at eye level. She never would have thought she’d find a man’s erection so beautiful, so enticing. Thick and hard, proud and throbbing. She wrapped one hand around the base and clutched his thigh with the other. A drop of semen pearled on the tip, and she couldn’t resist leaning forward to lap it up, rubbing her tongue over the slit when he jerked in her grip.
 

“Now who’s teasing?”
 

She covered the head of his cock with her mouth and sucked, stroking her hand up his shaft as she did. He gasped, his muscles flexing, and sounded almost as if he was in pain. She looked up at him through her lashes. He watched her with blazing, greedy eyes, and she sucked hard, pulling more of him into her mouth. He was so thick she couldn’t take much.
 

She retreated until he almost popped free, then slid down again, moving her hand at the same time. His hands clenched in her hair, but he didn’t force himself deeper or faster. He let her explore. Let her lick and suck until finally he groaned and pulled her off him, to her feet.
 

The protest lodged in her throat when he growled at her again, almost ripping her jeans and panties off, and lifted her against the wall. Why complain when he was giving her what she wanted?
 

He didn’t give her any warning, didn’t stop to make sure she was ready, but then, she doubted he needed to. She wasn’t shielding her emotions, was doing nothing to hide the fire raging through her. One hard, fast thrust, and he was filling her. She clung to his hips with her thighs, her hands digging into his shoulders, and hoped for a wild ride, but he didn’t move. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze.
 

Brax wasn’t sure if he could control the fury of lust consuming him. He’d never experienced anything like this, never imagined it. Part of him wanted to go slow, to shower her with tender devotion. But the other part was primitive and driving. She was fighting him, fighting the mating, and the primal heart of him wouldn’t tolerate it. The only thing that held the predator back was the expression on her face, the look in her eyes.
 

She was dazed. Consumed with the same mating lust he felt. But she wasn’t as strong as him, and while he was giving in to it, she was fighting it. He wanted it, and she didn’t. He wanted her to the depths of his soul, and she was too new to their world to understand what that really meant. She clung to him, tried to drive his cock deeper inside me.

“Are you with me, baby?”
 

Her eyes cleared a moment and flashed with amusement. “I’m the one pinned against the wall, aren’t I?”
 

Okay, he maybe didn’t want her thinking that clearly. He withdrew a bit, stroked into her in short, shallow thrusts until she was panting.
 

“Fuck me, Brax. Why are you waiting?” she cried.
 

Why was he waiting? Lightning lanced his body. His balls were so tight they hurt. But taking her body wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t satisfy this need.
 

“Open your mind to me,” he whispered. “Feel what I feel, Esme.”
 

Her eyes widened and she gave a little shake of her head. “I’ll go into psychic overload. I can’t handle it.”
 

“I’ll catch you, angel. I promise.”

It felt like eternity before she started dropping her shields, though he knew it was only seconds, maybe a minute. The trust she gave him doing so made him want to weep with joy. Her mind merged with his, shining and brilliant in its complexity and emotion. Her confusion, curiosity, love for her family all became part of him. And her aching, greedy arousal joined his with a fierceness that should have shocked him. There was no holding back now. Not until they’d both sated the lust, eased the need. He thrust hard, fast, deep, kissing her, stroking his tongue deep into her mouth, while his fingers found her throbbing clit.
 

The pleasure was mind-blowing. Elation and anguish all rolled into one. He wanted it to never end. He wanted to drown in her, drown in this feeling, live it forever and non-stop. But she convulsed around him, her hot, little cunt milking his cock as she screamed, as her orgasm ripped through her body and mind, and he had no choice but to follow her.
 

Chapter Five
 

“Turn at the first road on the right.”
 

More words than he’d spoken in an hour, and that should have been an uncomfortable hour. After the most explosive orgasm of her life, he’d pulled her into the small bathroom connected to his office, into a shower stall so tiny it barely fit two. Then he’d washed her with gentle, tender hands. Taking care of her. No one had ever taken care of her before.
 

She followed his directions until they stopped in front of a large cabin, and a man stepped out to meet them. She studied him as she approached. He looked like Brax, tall and broad with bright green eyes, though his hair had gone to gray. Probably decades ago. His face was lined with age, but he wasn’t stooped. There was no hint of dementia about him at all.
 

“Hey, Pop,” Brax said as she followed him up the steps. The older man embraced him, then stepped back to look her over. His gaze was cool, but there was a hint of approval when she lifted her chin and stared back. Brax drew her forward. “Esme, this is my grandfather, Elias Lee. This is Dr. Esme Durand. She and her brother and nephew arrived last night.”
 

“But you didn’t bring her to me first thing.” There was censure in his voice, but Brax didn’t flinch from it. He smiled.
 

“Sorry, Pop. We have a situation.”
 

Pop nodded. “I know. Come inside.” He turned and led the way to a large kitchen. “Coffee?”

“
Yes
.”
 

She snickered. Brax’s reply was fervent in the way only a true caffeine addict’s could be.
 

“And you, Dr. Durand?” his grandfather asked her.
 

She shook her head. “Don’t suppose you have a Diet Coke? I don’t drink coffee.”
 

They both looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
 

“How can you not drink coffee?” Brax asked.
 

“‘Cause I don’t like it?”
 

“There’s something just wrong about that.”
 

She shrugged one shoulder. “I never claimed to be normal.”
 

He chuckled. “None of us are, baby.”
 

His grandfather handed her the Coke can, pulled out a chair at the table, and cocked his head to one side as he studied Esme.
 

“Where have we met, Dr. Durand?”
 

“It’s Esme,” she said. “We haven’t met.”

“You look so familiar.” He shook his head. “Never mind. It’ll come to me.” He turned back to Brax. “I’m guessing this isn’t an eight a.m. social call?”
 

“No.” Brax sat close to her, too close for her peace of mind and rampaging hormones, and explained. When he was done, his grandfather leaned back in his chair looking speculative.
 

“What you’re describing sounds like a military operation, but the group that studied us lost its funding decades ago. That was during World War II, remember.” He paused several seconds before continuing thoughtfully. “It’s possible one of the government’s black ops groups has a renewed interest, but our contacts are pretty extensive. It would have to be pretty damned secret for us not to get word about it. Of course, that’s purely speculation. There’s no proof of anything right now.”
 

“So you think the attempts to reach me aren’t connected to the Elect?” Esme asked.

“Oh no, dear, I think they’re connected. I just think it’s unlikely to be a government operation.”

“I notice you said operation instead of funded,” she said. She’d been in academic research long enough to know various agencies sometimes helped financially while keeping their distance. If one was interested in studying the paranormal, or mental powers, the government would definitely want to distance itself.
 

Elias smiled at her. “I see you know how this works.” He looked at his grandson. “You need to start at the beginning and look at everyone who had firsthand knowledge of what we were doing. Starting with the employment records.”
 

“How would we do that, Pop? I thought y’all destroyed everything when the project was ended,” Brax grumbled.

Elias stood and left the room, returning seconds later with a file folder and pen. He opened it and spun it around for them. It was a list of names. “The scientists and military officers.”
 

”Damn it, Pop,” Brax said, but there wasn’t any heat in his voice, just a kind of weary acceptance. “Are you ever going to give up all your secrets?”

Esme took that to mean Elias had kept a few over the years. The conversation continued without her as she looked through the papers.

“Old men are allowed to keep secrets. Don’t worry, boy, there is no official record. It took us a few years to track down all the copies and doctors’ notes, but we did. These papers are all that’s left, and the only thing there is names.”
 

Brax shifted in his seat, and his tension rose. Esme tried to tune him out as she scowled at the list and saw some familiar names.
 

“What is it?” Brax asked. She wondered if it was her silence that alerted him or if he was so attuned to her he felt it, even as agitated as he was.

Her finger trailed down the list. “A couple of these guys were early researchers in DNA. Christopher Stine, Hugh Lingstrom, and Thompson Orly. They’re all dead.”
 

“Great,” Brax said sarcastically, jerking from his chair and pacing the room. He looked at his grandfather. “You knew these men. Did they know what we are?”
 

“Not then. If they’d suspected, we would have known. The scientists and guards were easy to read,” Elias said. “I suppose they could have figured it out later, once DNA sequencing became available, but they’d have to use modern samples. We didn’t leave anything behind.”
 

Brax held up the papers. “Are you sure about that, Pop?
This
isn’t supposed to exist.”

He was still livid that something like this had been kept from him, but he had calmed enough to feel Pop’s regret. “As far as I knew, it didn’t. I found them when I was going through Garret’s papers.”

Garret was a contemporary of Elias’s who’d died a few weeks ago. Brax frowned. The original Committee members had been secretive about the early years, though Elias had once told him that was more because of disorganization and trying to figure out how to work together than a need to hide information.
 

“Wasn’t he in charge of security from the beginning?”

His grandfather nodded. “Until things settled down. He backed out of the picture by the late sixties.”

And he hadn’t passed on the list, or anything else he’d kept, because the founders had been so convinced they were free and clear. It was frustrating as hell. Brax could have been ahead of this—whatever this was—but he couldn’t change that now.

“If your list exists, you can be sure something else survived. Someone knows something.” He was certain of it. None of this made sense otherwise.
 

Elias shrugged, and Brax knew he was going to play devil’s advocate. “Possibly. Or maybe it’s as simple as Esme having a stalker or her brother having an enemy. Soldiers do collect them.”

“No.” Esme shook her head decisively. “Stalkers don’t send teams after their prey.”
 

“And Carter?” Brax asked.

She took a deep breath, the action tightening the fit of her shirt in a way that made his palms ache to reach for her. “I’m sure he has enemies, but even that doesn’t make sense. Enemies wouldn’t have waited for him to get back in the country. They would have just taken Kaden out of that temporary foster home. They might even have come after me if they knew who I was. Might have trashed my house and set my condo on fire, but what about Dr. Franklin? It doesn’t fit. This is about the blood tests. Someone is pissed about no longer having access to Kaden.”