Chapter Seven #3
It didn’t calm him down any when she responded to his manipulation of her body with an eager groan and an undulation of her body against his.
Her breast came to snuggle forward into his palm, her thighs shifted between his as she used her body to do what she couldn’t do with her hands.
She used her mouth to take what he wouldn’t give.
She surged forward to catch him in a kiss so much deeper than the teasing touches they’d been torturing themselves with these past minutes, and Liam groaned with the relief of it when her sweet tongue finally returned to his mouth where it belonged.
She was so damned aggressive, so hungry, it was more than he could resist in his weakened condition.
Or so he told himself when he impulsively slid his palm down the long line of her spine and cupped a fine, firm cheek of her ass.
He made another throaty sound as he drew her closer and tighter against himself.
A pulse pounding erection was probably the very last thing he needed at the moment, but he was fairly certain he didn’t give a damn.
Devon went to touch him, to hold him to her mouth and taste him so deeply he would never escape, even though he hardly seemed to want to. She was drawn up short by her gloved hands yet again and she jerked her mouth free of his with a gasp.
“Liam! Your shoulder!”
“Fuck my shoulder,” he growled. “Give me your mouth, Devon.”
But the doctor in Devon was already overriding her hormones. She wriggled in his hold, trying to escape him, but having little luck. In fact, Liam seemed to be enjoying her struggles. He even chuckled.
“Liam, please. Let me stitch you. You’re getting blood everywhere. All over me.”
It was as though she’d spoken a secret code.
His arms unlocked from around her so quickly that she stumbled back.
He caught her by her waist though before she went any further than his knees, his darkened eyes inspecting her rapidly.
He frowned when he saw his blood smearing her sweater in places.
She smiled to comfort him and leaned for the curved needle and silk she’d set up.
She picked up forceps for herself and handed him a pair of surgical scissors.
“Hold those for me,” she said, somehow managing to sound steady in spite of the fact that the feel of the fingers still against her bare waist was driving her nuts.
He had such rough, capable hands, and he sure as hell knew how to touch a woman.
The way he stroked her and clasped her with such proprietary need made her feel wildly wanted.
And she was wildly wanted, she thought breathlessly and with wonder.
He knew she was a Morphate, and Liam Nash wanted her.
He wanted her to help him, to touch him, and …
She shivered and took a deep breath. If she was going to stitch him without butchering him, she needed to calm down and stop the shaking in her hands.
“Liam,” she said after a rocky breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth when you took this assignment. I would understand if you withdrew NHK services.”
The jab of the needle into his wounded flesh kept him from turning on her furiously, but she felt his hand grip into her soft skin intensely.
“Why in hell would I do that?” he demanded, looking like he would turn her over his knee if he thought he could pull it off at that moment.
“Being a Morphate instead of a human doesn’t change a damn thing about your needs and our services.
You made sure we knew the score up front, and keeping your race a secret doesn’t nullify a contract.
It doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Devon bit her lip, chewing it in thought for a moment.
“Actually, it does in a way,” she argued. “There are quite a few Morphates in this world that would consider me a traitor, Liam, for taking part in the construction of the weaponry to subdue and kill our kind.”
“Well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it?” he said sharply.
“There are gun and ordnance manufacturers all over the world, Devon, and plenty of people who don’t like the fact that those things are made to kill humans, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to hunt and kill the creators.
Especially not in this country. We aren’t always stellar in our behavior, and your people know that better than any, but our intentions as a society are generally good and sound.
Unfortunately, society is made up of all kinds and like I said before, some people can be damn stupid. ”
She nodded and paused in her work to clean the wound of blood.
The bleeding had slowed considerably, but she knew he’d already lost too much.
Any was too much when it came to fighting off venom.
She didn’t know what he was using to stay upright at the moment, but when it wore off he was going to crash extremely hard.
For the moment, though, she relaxed against him.
Devon felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her.
She felt she was a terrible liar, mainly because she hated deception so very much, and she’d despised lying to him.
But he was quick to reassure her that he understood on a professional level and that it didn’t matter one way or the other to him or affect the contracts they had signed.
Did that mean his touches and kisses meant the same thing, but on a personal level?
Lord, were they having a personal level?
It was a terrible idea all around, and they both knew it.
They had both said as much only a few hours ago, but since that kiss in the limousine, and just now when he’d held her …
Devon snuck a peek at him through her hair, only to find him completely focused on her face and now looking dead into her eyes.
She licked her lips and turned her attention back to her task, pretending she hadn’t seen him smile with a rather male smugness.
The man was far too confident and outrageous for his own damn good.
He never seemed at a loss for what to do in a situation.
How did someone so young manage to pull that off?
Well, not so young by human standards, she supposed, but it had taken her a couple of lifetimes, a few careers, and a drastic genetic alteration to find the kind of confidence he exuded.
Liam now understood the medical kit and the efficient care she was giving him. Even her manner as she worked was subconsciously full of that arrogance that only an experienced medical professional acquired. She had been a doctor.
A doctor and who knew what else. Christ, she was an older woman. A much, much, much older woman. He swallowed hard against the tension in his throat as he thought about that for a moment.
She was a Morphate. An immortal. Her body perpetually healed itself and shed all signs of aging so that she remained forever young and forever beautiful. It was Paulson’s ultimate achievement. Because of it, she might have had half a dozen careers. An untold number of lovers.
The lurch of hot, negative emotion surging to life within him at the thought of Devon in bed with a parade of other men had him sucking in a hard breath through flaring nostrils.
“Sorry,” she murmured soothingly near his ear, mistaking his tense reaction as a sign of pain.
“You’re lucky. She didn’t get you too far beyond the fascia.
No muscle damage and the tendons and ligaments were all spared, otherwise you’d be in surgery right now.
In the end, all you’ll have is a nice macho scar to tell stories about. ”
He already had enough of those. He didn’t give a damn about scars or injuries.
Not his own.
Liam suddenly reached for the hem of her skirt, his palm dragging the material up high along the warm skin of her thigh. He heard her gasp, felt her jerk, but her hands were completely occupied and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Liam!”
He ignored her protest, took a moment to enjoy the tremble that shuddered through her as he gathered the material up against the curve of her bottom, and then leaned as far as he could around her to see her opposite thigh where she’d been shot.
“Liam, sit still! Let go of my skirt!” She squirmed a little, and then when he let go of her skirt so he could slide his hand around the smooth skin of her previously wounded leg, feeling for remnants of the injury, she squirmed a great deal more.
Liam didn’t blame her. He wanted to do a bit of squirming himself.
Her skin was on fire, but that was nothing compared to the heat of her nearby sex.
She was mere inches and a turn of his wrist away.
Suddenly he could smell her as well as feel her, his senses knowing without a doubt that she was wet and musky hot from their earlier play.
She wore no panties, he realized as his thumb strayed over the contours of where her ass blended into her thighs.
Devon fell heavily against him and moaned close to his ear. “Please, Liam,” she begged him, “I can’t help you like this.”
“Answer a question, Devon,” he instructed her as he drew back to stroke her over the mildly safer territory of her thigh. “Did they shoot you with mercury? Is that why the wound still wasn’t healed when we first met?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly, her smooth thighs shifting restlessly against his hand and arm.
Liam tightened the grip he had around her legs and bottom for an instant, closing his eyes as his teeth clenched in spasm. “Through and through?” he demanded roughly. “Is that why you survived? It went through and the mercury didn’t have a chance to discharge?”