Being Emerald (7 page)

“Trust me, baby, you don’t want anything to do with my twisted version of sex.”

She wasn’t intimidated by his warning. She was intrigued.

He shook his head slightly. “No. No benefriends.” Between his grip on her neck, that dark sexy voice, and the fire burning so hot inside him her panties were damp, she’d almost missed his rejection. She waited for more of an explanation, but that was all she got.

He closed his eyes, shutting her out. He was done talking.

She stuck out her bottom lip and poked the hard spot at his sternum. “You’re not very nice. In fact, I’m starting to think you’re kind of mean.”

When he focused on her again, he’d donned a mask of cool indifference. “Baby, I never claimed to be nice.”

“Good, because sometimes I don’t want nice,” she whispered. His clean scent filled her nostrils. His touch nourished her, rebuilt a part that had been broken. The air was charged with her anticipation and his lust. His cock was hard and wedged between them, pressing against her belly.

On impulse, she clutched both sides of his face and kissed him.

A rough, playful action, the kiss took Rock by surprise, and before he had the chance to react, it was over. She carelessly poked a stick at the beast he’d chained, with no idea what was inside. Even Amber women found his proclivity for extreme sex more kinky than they desired. He relished the challenge presented by this impulsive and unpredictable woman who zigged when he expected her to zag.

The lone fixture burning in the kitchen provided enough shadowy light to see the lovely sight before him. He focused his attention, seeking to read what wasn’t said with words. In a flash, he flipped them until Laila was on the couch beneath him.

She gasped. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes danced. She was playing with him.

“Yeah, I’m mean.” The gravel in his voice was as menacing as he could make it. “And depraved.”

Her breaths came faster.

“Demanding.”

Her pupils dilated.

“Controlling.”

The pulse at the side of her neck quickened underneath his index finger. She hung on every syllable, unblinking.

He leaned in closer. “Domineering.”

Her lush lips parted, and displayed the barest peek of her sweet tongue.

“And strict.”

Her pupils swallowed up the deep brown of her irises, and her peaked nipples hardened against his chest. He shifted slightly, positioning his lips next to her ear, and whispered, “I’m the kind of man your mama told you to stay away from.”

He finished the sentence, and she’d stopped breathing. Their faces were mere inches apart again. “Breathe,” he whispered.

Wide-eyed, she inhaled a hearty gulp of air.

Breathing heavily himself, Rock was a hair trigger away from unleashing his lust. “Now, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep well last night. Let’s go to bed.” He sat, bringing her with him.

She squealed.

“To sleep.”

She frowned and pouted. He lifted her until they were chest to chest. She wrapped her legs around him, and cupping her cute little bottom, he carried her up the stairs.

He set her on her feet next to the bed and took a knee in front of her. Hooking his fingers at the waistband of her shorts, he slid the material down and lifted each of her feet to free her of the garment. “Lie down.” He turned away from her while he folded her shorts and placed them in one of the dresser drawers he’d emptied that afternoon. He removed his T-shirt and jeans, stowed those away as well.

Laila spread out under the top sheet.

He shut off the light and slid in next to her. Covering the ache in the middle of his chest with his palm, he allowed himself to feel more in that moment than he had in a year. His defenses were gone, with this Amber woman, and he was about as wide open to an onslaught of emotions as he’d ever been. He’d always known someday he wouldn’t be able to contain them any longer. He’d expected he’d end up murdering someone when they broke free, but this was bearable.

Laila scooted close, burrowing into his side until he turned toward her and completely surrounded her with himself. Her slow, regular breathing followed, and didn’t it just figure, he was wide fucking awake.

She’d surprised him today. He didn’t surprise easily or often. He prided himself on that. Her courage with Morgan, her reactions to his words—breathtaking.

She needed more than benefriends.

So did he.

The possibility she might be able to give all of herself to him, hand everything over completely and trust, made anticipation thrum through him.

Rock hovered on the threshold of sleep, his thoughts roaming in a lucid dream while his consciousness was completely aware of the woman who slept next to him.

He dozed for a few hours but was fully awake earlier than normal. Above him, high windows displayed the slight fade from black to navy blue in the eastern sky. He’d be generous and call it five thirty in the morning, but just barely.

Laila was beside him, her hair partially covering her face. Her light breaths fanned his chest. Their legs were entwined, his dick hard and demanding attention. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he groaned. He was screwed.

Rock gingerly slid out of bed and padded downstairs. The house hadn’t cooled much overnight, and it was going to be another hot one today. Not ideal for Laila’s first day of real training, but this would be the first of many hot days of exertion for her. She might as well know what she was getting into.

The lone light burning over the center island in the kitchen beckoned. He sat at one of the high stools and put his earbud in his ear. “Call Dad.”

“Two nights in a row?” His father answered the call with a raspy voice. “This new assignment got you in a twist?”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Bullshit, or you wouldn’t be calling me in the middle of the fucking night.”

Rock chuckled.

“Have you spent time with her yet?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Laila Lewis. She grew up Amber.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She’s…” Rock fell silent until he found the right words. “She’s intelligent, fun, Amber through and through. She’s been soaking up the touch time since she found out I’m from Amber too.”

“Pretty?”

“Very.”

“Sounds like you like her. You going to take her on in a personal capacity?” Rock could tell his father smiled as he asked the question.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Rock’s chest clenched and guilt sat heavy in the pit of his stomach.

His father sighed. “You’re alive, Rock. You didn’t die on that floor. You have to start living again.”

“I know. I just feel guilty. Like I’m betraying her by even having this conversation.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s okay to let go.”

“How do I do that?” he asked, louder than he’d intended. He reined in his knee-jerk reaction. “Because I don’t know how. Not without making what we had seem less somehow. Less mind-blowing.” The sob stuffing his throat made it difficult to speak. “Less gut wrenching. Nothing about what we had was less, Dad.”

“I know, son. I loved her, too. But I love you more, and if you have even a slight chance to build something again with someone else, you have to take it. It won’t cheapen what you and Emily had. And, Rock, she would have wanted you to be happy.”

Silence between them lengthened. Rock tried to lighten the mood. “Well, in any case, it’s a good thing I don’t have to spend the next couple of months with a troll.”

His father laughed. Then, after a few more beats of silence, he continued. “I called Xander. He invited me to dinner tomorrow night. Said he’d invite Journey, too.”

“Good. Is he taking good care of her?”

“She’s coming out of her shell.”

“Give her a hug. Tell her I love her.”

“I’ll do that. Call me tomorrow, at a decent hour, if that’s at all possible.”

By then, his father would have the letters he’d left the last time he was at the Resistance drop house. “Will do. Go back to sleep.” Rock ended the call and glanced at the clock. Time to get the trainee up. He had a big day planned.

After a half hour of watching Laila drag ass, he sent her across the street to get dressed for their first day of real training. He waited impatiently for her to return, intermittently glancing out the window to see if she was on her way back. When he finally caught sight of Laila crossing the street, she was not the flowing skirt, sandaled, bohemian-looking woman he’d gotten glimpses of before their training started. She was decked out in the standard issue recovery team uniform—black, from the zippered cargo pants and military style boots to the black T-shirt and Kevlar body armor.

He met her at the door and chuckled. “You can ditch the body armor. You won’t need it today.” He pulled the tabs free and lifted the vest over her head.

“Good. That thing is hot.”

He led her to the kitchen, and placed a heaping plate of biscuits and gravy in front of her. “I recommend you eat it all. You’re going to need the energy.” He packed them a lunch then leaned against the counter, watching her.

She’d put a good dent in the pile then pushed the plate away.

“Ready?”

“I hope so.”

During the ride to OZ, she stared out the window. Her silhouette against the morning sun revealed the graceful slope of her neck and the red highlights in her long brown ponytail.

She hadn’t smiled once since she’d gotten out of bed that morning. His benefriend rejection might have hurt her feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was add to the strain she was under, but it looked as though he had anyway. He knew what she needed, and would give it to her. But his proclivity for extreme sex and compulsion for the enmeshed relationship he thrived on would only stress her more. By the end of the day, she’d have nothing left, and wouldn’t have the energy to worry about anything.

During National Guard shift change, like now, the small Emerald Zone looked like it was under military occupation, with hundreds of guardsmen clogging the roads and walkways. When the guardsmen dispersed, the streets would be empty. There were no pedestrians, like in Sapphire and Amber. The VIPs here drove, or were chauffeured. When they arrived at OZ, he proceeded through the checkpoint gates and parked.

“Why is there’s so much security at this compound?” Laila asked.

“There are weapons here. Lots of them.” OZ was a huge lot surrounded with chain-link fence topped with razor wire. A handful of one and two-story buildings contained the armory, training and meeting rooms, and the shooting range.

“Oh. Makes sense.” They got out, and she glanced at him across the truck bed as he pocketed the keys and motioned in the direction they were headed.

“We’re going to the motor pool.”

They turned a corner where a row of heavy-duty vehicles were lined up, except for theirs. The armored vehicle they’d be using for the mission was already pulled out of its spot and waiting for them.

“This is our truck.” He stopped next to it, helped her into the passenger seat of the armored monster and walked around the front. After climbing into the driver’s seat, he leaned toward her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her across the seat so she sat as close to him as possible, her thigh pressing against his.

“What are we doing?” She looked up at him. Still no smile.

“This is your first driving lesson.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“It’s a very good idea. I’m going to give you as many skills as I can between now and our go date. If the shit hits the fan, you’ll need to know how to drive so you can get yourself back to New Atlanta.” He took her chin between his finger and thumb. “Now, don’t question your training. I know what you need.”

She frowned. “Okay.”

They spent an hour sitting thigh to thigh in the hot cab of the armored truck. He taught her all the knobs and buttons, how to adjust her mirrors. Outside, he ran down the vehicle’s capabilities as well as simple maintenance like changing a tire and adding radiator fluid. Then he quizzed her until she was easily able to toss the information back at him. He smiled at her self-satisfied expression.

“Okay, good. Now I want you to remove a tire and put it back on.”

She stood next to the front passenger side tire, hands on her hips, while he sat on the passenger seat, legs hanging out the open door. She gaped at him, ready to protest, so he leveled a serious stare at her. “I’m waiting.”

Several beats passed before she finally rolled her eyes, dropped her hands from her hips and proceeded to crack and remove the lug nuts one by one. It took significant effort on Rock’s part not to help her as she wrestled the huge tire from its perch. She lost her grip and tumbled onto her ass then pointed at him and glared. “Don’t you dare!”

The effort to keep a straight face was no doubt worth it because she didn’t look daggers at him very long. She successfully removed the tire the second time around, brushed dirt off her hands and rear end then looked to him. “I’m going to need some help lifting the tire back on.”

“Yes. You are,” he said straight-faced, but stayed put.

She raised her eyebrows. “Well? Are you going to help me?”

He shook his head. “If you’re changing a tire by yourself, it’s a given I’m dead. You need to be able to figure out how to do it yourself.”

Her eyes bugged and jaw unhinged. The possibility he could die, leaving her out there to fend for herself, had never occurred to her.

“You also need to learn how to keep that expression in check. You wear all your feelings on your face. Shielding your thoughts and feelings from others is absolutely necessary, if you find yourself in trouble.”

“Okay.”

Laila looked around the fenced-in lot that held the recovery vehicles and found a cement block and a board behind one of the sheds.

She trudged toward him, dragging the board. Laughter fought to burst from his lips as she blew a stray curl of hair out of her face and glared a hole right through him. He was going to burst a blood vessel with the strain of holding it in.

She set her jaw and got to work, ignoring him. She was feisty and proud. Not the type of woman who’d quit until the job was complete.