The Protectors Series Bundle (A superhero romance anthology) (24 page)

Wrapping the rope around his waist, then his elbow and shoulder for bracing, he eased himself over the edge face-first and rappelled step-by-step down the side of the building. He took his time. Rushing would only get him a date with the pavement below.

Sweat popped on his brow as he passed the fifth floor. He paused when he was level with her neighbor’s window. Taking a deep breath, he mumbled, “Letting go is always the hardest part.” Saying a prayer to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in, he gripped the rope with both hands and let his feet fall from the wall surface. He cursed as he dangled, his biceps screaming in agony as they fought to hold up his weight. Kicking his feet, he swung gently from side to side until he had enough momentum to swing to her window.

On his final pass past the neighbor’s window, a frightened cat screeched and scurried back inside. With a quick inhalation of breath, his body swung to Symone’s window, and he dove in feet first, letting the rope slide out of his fingers as he landed.

She was waiting for him—baseball bat at the ready.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” She swung at his crouched form.

Garrett barely managed to roll out of the way before the bat made contact with his head. Instead, the back of his skull got cozy with one of the dining room table legs. He sprung up to his feet into an automatic defensive stance with his hands up to guard his face and head

“Is that any way to treat a guest?” Keeping his center of gravity low, he lunged after her.

She deftly spun away, swinging her Louisville Slugger. This time, making contact with his arm. He grimaced as the pain radiated to his shoulder. Ever the trained soldier though, he kept his mind focused enough to sidestep her follow up swing.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I was serious. I only want to talk.”

She sneered. “Said the wolf to Red Riding Hood.”

He could almost smile past the pain roaring up his arm. “We don’t have much time, Symone. Reaper’s already sent others. By now, they know I’m not at the rendezvous point. We need to go before they track you here.”

Her dark eyes leveled him with a steely glare. “How did you find me?”

“The more I followed your scent, the more I got confused. So I followed the other scent with you. The bubble gum one.”

Her eyes widened and darted to a discarded hoody on the coffee table. “So I’m just supposed to trust you and go with you?”

He shrugged and grinned. “Yeah, it would save me from knocking you out.”

She gave him a broad grin, and for a moment he was struck dumb by her stunning smile.

“I think you’ve already forgotten how our last encounter ended. Maybe I should give you a refresher.”

***

Symone glared at her intruder as her hands clenched and unclenched around the base of her baseball bat. She desperately wished she had powers she could wield without actually having to touch him.

But wishes were useless to her now; she had to deal with him. Just like always, no one would be running to her rescue. Good thing she knew how to take care of herself.

She and Garrett circled each other. His movements were as fluid and controlled as a jungle cat’s. His eyes scanned her body as if looking for a vulnerable angle. Good luck to him. The moment he put his hands on her, he’d be lights out. But she didn’t want him getting close enough to touch. The reverb she got the last time was enough to rattle her teeth and make her unsteady on her feet.

Her fingers flexed around the bat.  “I’d like to know who’s brains I’m about to bash in.”

He smirked.  “Confident aren’t you?  My name’s Garrett Hunter and I’m not here to hurt you.”

She ignored his attempt to placate her. “You know, when you enter someone’s house uninvited, someone’s likely to shoot you.” She smirked. “And you’re so rude—you didn’t even bring a gift. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to go to someone’s house empty handed?”

His full lips tipped up at the corners. “I’m a little surprised you opted for a bat. You clearly knew I was coming. Why not a gun? Shoot, why bother with the external weapons?”

His smile gave her butterflies. Everything about him gave her butterflies. The way he moved, all sinew and grace and lethal quickness. Thick, dark lashes framed his deep-set, navy eyes. His strong jaw tipped as he cocked his head. Under the dim light of her living room, she couldn’t tell what color his hair was. He sported a close buzz cut, but judging from his dark brows, he wasn’t blond.

“Lucky for you I don’t like guns.” She wiggled her fingers. “I don’t usually need them either. Why don’t you take your beefy ass out of here, and I’ll let you live. Unless you really would like more of what I gave you earlier. I’m more than happy to oblige.”

He straightened, but she didn’t relax her stance. She kept her knees soft, her weight on the balls of her feet and her bat angled like she was a starting hitter for the Yankees. He smiled again, and her insides went molten hot. Of course the one man to make her lament her inability to touch anyone would have to be a Tracker. Yet another cruel joke of her life.

He put his hands up as if showing her he had no ulterior motives, but he kept his weight forward on the balls of his feet. “Now while that sounds like fun—and I gotta tell you it was a thrill— I think I’ll pass. I’m here to talk. But I will say the residuals were like the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“You have a funny way of showing you’re here to talk. Most people who want to talk to me ring my doorbell. And you’re far worse than any door-to-door salesman I’ve ever seen.”

He shifted his weight, and Symone didn’t wait for a response. She went in swinging, bat held high. His reflexes were outstanding. He dodged her wild swing and tucked in around her waist. He held her with her back against him, squeezing her so hard she couldn’t breathe. She struggled in his grasp. Dropping the bat, she desperately fought to get her hands on a patch of skin, but his jacket covered his arms. She tried to drop her weight and shove her hips back hard, but all that did was bring her into closer proximity to his hips. No matter what she tried, he didn’t let go. As her head began to swim, her mind frantically searched for a way out. Wiggling her arms around, she bent them behind her back. Reaching for his belt, she forced his T-shirt up and placed her fingertips on rock hard abs.

He jerked upright, abruptly letting her go. She spun on her heel to face him. She was tall, but even on tip toes, her 5’9” frame didn’t meet him eye to eye. Symone went for the kill while he stood there temporarily stunned, and clamped her hands on either side of his face, waiting for him to drop. Jansen could arrange cleanup for the body later.

But he didn’t go down.

Teeth set, he grimaced. His eyes squeezed shut, but after ten full seconds, his features relaxed, and his whole body shivered. That was when she scented his arousal in the air. Like leather and smoke, it wove around her, threatening to overwhelm her. She could also feel it from him. As if she were the one experiencing the orgasmic bliss floating through his body. He wanted her.

Unsure of what was wrong with her powers, she channeled more energy through her hands, willing him to fall. He finally let out a groan and wobbled, but the look on his face—parted lips and eyes ablaze with lust—looked like he was mid-orgasm.

His body finally gave up and fell against her, toppling them both to the couch. All it took was the breath of a moment to break her concentration, and he turned the tables, somehow taking control of her power. One arm wrapped around her and cupped her ass while the other planted beside her head and braced him above her body.

She didn’t let go of his face, but she could feel the struggle between them as she tried to suck out his life force. Sweat popped on her brow, and her body shook with the effort. Or maybe it was the way his hand lifted her ass to fit her hips more snugly against the rigid length of him. Or maybe it was the way her body melted and molded to his lean hard body. Every muscle, every organ—she could feel all of him pressing into her.

Through clenched teeth, he grunted, “What are you doing to me?”

She blinked up at him, fighting the onslaught of emotion running through her. Lust, fear, and relief braided through her more rational emotions. “Why are you still alive?”

He shuddered on top of her, rolled his hips into hers, and she felt the length of his cock push insistently at her inner thigh. Her traitorous body met his roll with one of her own.

“If it feels this good to die, I’d die a million times over.” He groaned, and his hips bucked.

She froze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nothing like this had ever happened—ever. Not once. She never allowed herself any human contact. It was just too dangerous. Touching anyone for too long usually meant certain death, but with this man, her literal mortal enemy, it meant she could finally experience bliss.

His hips rolled again, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on her breathing, not the emotions she was picking up from him. This was not real. This was not real. She said the mantra over and over again to herself. She could filter out his emotions. She could do this. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw the way he’d watched her move for days. The respect he grudgingly gave her when she’d put Julio and his buddy out of commission. The annoyance he felt when she almost got shot.

He was a Tracker. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for her. For her, feeling something for him was a death sentence. But as their bodies shivered together, she knew this was a sensation she didn’t want to let go of. His body shook on top of her again. She could feel the resistance, but the weariness he must have felt was starting to show in the lines around his mouth. “Whatever it is you’re doing. Stop. I think you’re killing me. I can’t take anymore.”

Finally. “I think that’s the point.”

Again she could feel his cock insistently nudge her through his pants. He shuddered again and yanked her against him, nudging his knee between her thighs. Laying his hips right against her center. Symone sucked in a breath.

Through gritted teeth, he whispered, “I can feel you softening. I can smell your need. Stop trying to kill me. You don’t want me dead, I can help you.”

She knew her power was fading. Any more of this, and she’d put herself into cardiac arrest. That was the problem with her power, if she overused it, her own heart would stop.

She released her grip, and his body sagged into hers.

His stubbled jaw brushed against her cheek when he muttered, “At the risk of going through that again…” He lifted his head and stared at her for a moment before slanting his lips over hers.

Chapter Eight

Fire bloomed in Garrett’s chest. When Symone wasn’t actively pouring energy into him, touching her was more like an electrically charged caress. When he knew what to expect, the sensation wasn’t as much of a surprise. He knew he’d first feel like he’d been struck by an 1800-volt Taser. He knew it would threaten to blow him apart, but the moment he let go of the surprise and the tension, bliss would follow.

Her lips parted for him, and his tongue slid in to taste her. Just like she smelled, she tasted sweet, with a chaser of spice. At first she didn’t respond, just lay tensed beneath him. But when he nipped at her lip, she shuddered and surrendered to him, meeting his tongue with her own. Her hands tentatively slid over his back. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if she’d begin the onslaught again, but then, he felt her shift her hands under his jacket. The scrape of her nails through his T-shirt followed.

Desperate to feel all of her beneath him, he pushed himself off of her torso without breaking their kiss and shed his jacket. When he lay back down, she shifted and wrapped a leg around his hip. He buried one hand in her thick hair and traced a line at the hem of her T-shirt with the other, pausing at her belly button to circle it with his thumb. Her hips immediately rose to meet his.

His cock jerked behind his zipper, begging him for freedom. He freely roamed the soft expanse of her belly spanning her ribcage, pausing at the line of her underwire bra. With every caress from her, she sent a tiny electric current flowing through his body, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The more they touched each other, the more he could tap into her every emotion, like he was tapping into her very life force.

Symone threaded her fingers into his hair, and he groaned against her lips. For weeks he’d tailed her. He knew her every movement, but he never would have guessed she felt like this. So soft. So delicate despite her muscles and her serious ninja skills. She was still petite in his arms.

His thumb skimmed over the fabric of her bra, and he detected a lace pattern. Given her leather pants and Muppets T-shirt, he wouldn’t have figured her for something so feminine, but maybe he’d pegged her wrong.

He circled her nipple with his thumb through the fabric. Deepening their kiss, he kept up the teasing until she panted and breathed out a soft plea. He grinned as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the lace that covered the stiff peak. With every stroke of his thumb, her hips rotated, arching her body closer to his. Begging him to take her.

His whole body hummed with the blissful energy she emitted. Everywhere she touched him, tingles of ecstasy licked his nerve endings, making him crave more. She was already his addiction of choice. His palm closed over her full breast, and she moaned and kissed him back with ferocious acuity.

For heady moments, all Garrett could think about was how good she felt underneath him. How she smelled like happiness. For now, he couldn’t think about why he was here. What he was supposed to do.