Chapter 10
TEN
Mason tore away the rest of Elin’s clothes like they’d become a problem to solve. When he sat back on his heels to look at her—sexy-as-hell mussed hair, lashes sweeping her cheeks and sleek skin—he felt his heart twist in his chest.
Then she flicked her gaze to his, and his chest damn near exploded with emotions he’d kept bottled for so long.
He always thought her deep green eyes saw things most people didn’t. She saw him.
Slowly, he swept down her body, pressing his lips to warm, smooth flesh that pebbled under his lips and tongue. In one fluid move, he spread her knees.
Her breath was trapped in her throat. Her fingers found purchase in his hair, twisting the short strands and sending darts of need straight to his cock. Gently, he teased the wet seam of her pussy with one forefinger, trailing through the soft folds and making her gasp out.
When he reached her entrance, he dipped his finger inside her molten heat. She dragged in a sharp breath.
He added two fingers. She shuddered.
When he sank them deep inside her tight channel, he was watching her face. Bliss rippled across her features and a pink flush settled in her cheeks as he settled in to take her apart piece by erotic piece.
He pumped his fingers, then withdrew them in a measured glide that made her walls clench. He twisted them back on a deeper pass, and she locked a hand on his shoulder. The sweet sounds she made mingled with a groan he couldn’t hold back.
He curled his fingers, teasing her, coaxing her toward an end he’d make damn sure she never forgot. Dipping his head, he sucked her clit.
“Liam!”
Over and over and over he drove his fingers deep and withdrew with a slowness sure to make her crumble for him. He flicked his tongue over her stiff clit, and her breath came in faster pants.
He doubled his efforts, taking her from warm to scorching inferno in seconds. She bucked. Writhed. And came apart in one endless shiver. Her juices soaked his fingers, but he wanted them soaking his cock.
After bringing her down bit by bit, he could stand it no more. In a hard shove, he pushed onto his knees and worked off the rest of his clothes. She stared up at him, her eyes hazy from her release and a dew of perspiration glowing on her skin.
Leaning over her, he kissed her hard before he yanked her hips up to meet his.
In that second, with his aching cock poised at her wet heat, they locked gazes.
“Don’t look away,” he growled, low and rough. “Every time you breathe, remember who makes you feel like this.”
Something shattered in her eyes, and green fire bloomed in the depths as he joined them in one solid thrust.
Her cry echoed in his ears, stripping away more of his control. He slammed his mouth over hers in a brutal caress that could be the end of their conflict or only the beginning of it.
Scraping her nails over his shoulders, she wrapped her thighs around him and they began to move as one. Hard, rough. Tender and teasing. Always moving toward the same peak.
The bed rocked. His thrusts grew more forceful until she was clinging to him. Her pussy tightened around his length. He pushed balls-deep and found her clit with his thumb. He ground it into her body in tight circles.
Her second release ripped a growl from his chest, and his last thread of control snapped. In a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. The liquid fire surrounding him stole his mind. Hot cum jetted from him, bathing her inner walls.
And even though he knew Elin—knew that she was smart enough to be on birth control—in that heartbeat, he wished to hell they could make a child. Their child. A mix of both of them, with her smile and angel eyes. With her brilliant mind and…
Fuck. He was a dead man walking. He didn’t exist in any records, not anymore. How could he ever have a family?
Others do, a voice in the back of his mind spoke up. And it was true—Ramsey in Alpha team had a child. Probably a few others, but Mason never paid attention when the discussion turned to that in the locker room or while hitting weights in the gym.
And he had no damn clue where he stood with Elin. She had given him her body, sure. But he wanted her mind, heart…soul.
He wanted her back.
Fuck.
He eased off her but kept his arm around her waist, holding her against his side for a long moment. Her breathing steadied first, her pulse soft against his arm, and he let himself memorize the rhythm.
For a guy who was supposed to be made of discipline, he sure as hell lost it around her.
Long minutes passed, and neither of them moved or spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but he could hear her mind ticking and guessed what was coming.
When she finally slipped from the bed, murmuring something about getting back to work, he watched her cross the room. The glow from the lamp gilded her skin, giving her an ethereal look that was untouchable.
He wanted to pull her back, to tell her the world could damn well wait—but that wasn’t the truth. The success of this op depended on Elin.
By the time he flung off the covers, she’d already disappeared down the hall toward the lab.
He cleaned up and dressed, thinking to follow her, to look in and make sure she had everything she needed for a long night in front of the screens.
But he didn’t immediately check on her. He was too damn scattered, too unfocused, and that scared the hell out of him. Con was right—taking his head out of the game for even a minute could get people killed.
Could get Elin killed.
In the kitchen, he poured himself coffee he didn’t need and stared into the cup like it might tell him what the hell to do next.
How could she just go back to work after what transpired between them?
He still felt her on his skin, in his lungs, and she was probably halfway into a new encryption string.
He should admire it. Mostly, it just made him feel left behind.
He braced a hand on the counter. The house hummed with activity, the sounds of footsteps overhead and the faint whir of the ventilation system but…it felt different. Off.
His instincts were picking up a vibration in the house. Every time a new person came onboard, the dynamics changed.
Boots scuffed against tile, and he looked up.
Ash stepped into the kitchen, wearing a Navy logo T-shirt, sweats and a ball cap pulled low over his eyes. He already had a mug in hand. As he walked to the coffeemaker for a refill, he shot Mason a look. “You’re up late.”
He hadn’t glanced at a clock and had no idea how long he and Elin had been locked in each other’s arms. But since it was dark outside and the house was winding down for the night, he guessed it was pretty late.
“You’re up too,” Mason countered.
Ash smirked. “Can’t sleep. Figured I’d join the guys downstairs. They’ve been doing shooting drills again. You can hear the pop if you stand near the vent.”
“Yeah,” Mason said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I heard. Why aren’t you with them already?”
He shifted his shoulders in a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug. “I had enough practice.”
He considered Ash’s statement but didn’t press. He might mean he aced his round or that he was sick of the guys’ jabs about being washed up. Ash was anything but.
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, the kind that came from years of shared chaos instead of just a few weeks since he joined Charlie.
Then Ash set his mug down and leaned against the counter. Finally, he spoke his mind. “Truth is, I walked out of target practice.”
Mason eyed him. “Why?”
“I asked for a new weapon. Sinner gave me a pencil.”
“That’s taking the pencil pusher joke a little far. What are you gonna do about it?” He liked Sinner. But he seemed to pick on Ash like it was personal.
Ash squared his shoulders. “I might have spent years behind a desk, or in the field recruiting men. I fucking built this team, and most of the others in Blackout. And I’m on the outside.”
“Damn, bro.”
A crease appeared between Ash’s dark brows, sharp as a blade. “The transition is so much harder than I anticipated.”
Mason shook his head in commiseration. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes, man. But I do know that pencils can be weapons too.”
“Sure. You can write your resignation or stab someone with it.”
They both laughed, a hollow ring to the sound.
They fell into silence again, but this time there was a new ease in the lines of Ash’s body, as if finding a moment of camaraderie allowed him to let some of the teasing gone too far go.
Ash dumped out his mug and added it to the dishwasher. “Thanks for the talk.”
“Look for my therapy bill in your inbox.”
They shared a chuckle. When Ash left, Mason stayed where he was, mug cooling in his hands. He listened to the distant cracks of gunfire in the basement range, the house’s heartbeat.
He set the mug down and rubbed the back of his neck again, trying to work out the tension. The truth was, no matter how many times he took Elin to bed, no matter how many times their gazes connected in that amazing, familiar way…she was distant.
He realized that the advice he’d been giving Ash for weeks—work hard and he’d prove himself to the team—was advice he should take too.
In time, the team would accept Ash because he worked for it. But had he? Giving Elin orgasms that had her clinging to the high ceilings wasn’t enough. He had to win her heart.
He caught his reflection in the window—broad shoulders, stubble, a man who’d seen too much—and shook his head. “Keep trying,” he muttered. “That’s the mission now.”
He’d left her once to protect her. Now he’d spend the rest of his life showing her that loving her had never been the danger—losing her was.
* * * * *
The lab glowed, the monitors casting shadows over the walls and painting Elin’s hands in watery blue. Dante was hard at work at his station, his fingers working the keys in spurts before he’d lean close to the screen to peer at the code there like it had secrets to tell.