Chapter One
Reena Wilde could barely stop her fingers from shaking. She stood in the hallway and unbuttoned the man’s shirt she’d been given to wear while she stayed in the safe house. Baby-blue cotton, the shirt dwarfed her petite body and the hemline dropped to her knees. The sensual rugged scent of outdoorsy pine and soap onhisshirt made her heart race. The owner of this piece of clothing was on the other side of the door and she was nervous to approach him.
She’d been here several days and nights having sex. Not with him, but with the men who’d rescued her from the brothel where she’d been held captive. Her rescuers belonged to a top secret government organization called SKULL.
Through her work in the Resistance, she’d heard of them. Skilled Kill Undercover Liaison Links was a Black Ops assassination organization for the government. During the Terrorist Wars, members had been doctors, nurses and other medical personnel—people drafted into the organization and forced to infiltrate any number of U.S. Military adversaries in order to kill targeted enemies.
The SKULL men she’d been staying with had been working on an unrelated assignment when they’d rescued her from the pleasure house she’d penetrated to gather intelligence for the Resistance.
Damn fools had screwed her plans. She’dletherself be captured by the pleasure house. SKULL had ruined the assignment. But she couldn’t do anything about it now. She just hoped to hell they wouldn’t discover her true identity, for if they did, they’d interrogate and then shoot her. Pretty much everybody wanted her out of the way. If not dead, tortured first—for the information she held—and then dead.
For the past few days, she’d had no option but to stay here. These men were dominant and so willing to give the sex she craved while she came off the sex drugs the pleasure house had pumped into her. The drugs had kept her aroused and willing to perform. The matter of her needing to orgasm every so often or she’d go mad also existed. This was due to the X-virus, a submissive virus released by terrorists intent on dominating all women. But the original strain had mutated into different forms—many of them deadly—thus killing off a majority of the world’s female population and leaving most of those alive afflicted with various illnesses.
She had the O mutation of the X-virus. O for orgasm. Right now her body screamed for another climax. Not just with anyone. But withhim. The man they called Will Blade, who just so happened to be on the other side of this door.
Avoiding her.
She knew why. Knew it in the hot way his yummy chocolate-pudding eyes studied her every movement since he’d shown up in this secluded house early this morning. She’d read the hunger on his face the several times the SKULL men had led her into the adjoining room.
She’d hoped he would join them. He never had. So she’d decided to hook up with him. Tonight. In his room. While the others slept.
She wanted a taste of him—just this once. Then she’d escape and she’d never have to see any of these men again. Never have to physically long for the man they called Blade.
Excitement lashed her as she twisted the doorknob, pushed the door open and quietly stole inside.
He was awake. She knew he would be. Or else he slept with the lights on…or maybe he’d been waiting for her.
At twenty-three years old, she was quite experienced in the sex department. She’d gained her skills during the last two years of the Terrorist Wars in the mandatory Rest & Relaxation Sexual Release Program—R & R for short—designed for the soldiers. Even her father, a top-ranking general, had been unable to keep her out—no matter how hard he’d tried to hide her overseas in a job as a teacher’s assistant in the Teachers Without Borders program.
With all her sexual experience, she’d learned the power a woman has over men and was anxious to try her expertise on Blade.
As she stood in the doorway, Blade looked up from where he lay on his bed, an open book balanced on his chest. A succulent pine and soap scent drifted off the vibrant male and hung erotically in the room. His heated gaze made her jittery with an intense longing to be touched, especially her breasts and between her thighs. She was so wet, drenched, ready.
Maybe the arousal drugs were still in her system? No, her overwhelming urges for this stranger were natural. With the drugs, she’d been impatient, needy and desperate. With Blade, she just wanted his body heat wrapped around her. Wanted him to hold her in his arms, kiss her and bring his cock into her. Make love to her. Her desires were as plain and raw as that.
He remained silent as she closed the door behind her and crossed the room to stand beside his bed. He wore only a pair of skintight black jeans. He did nothing but return to his reading, as if dismissing her.
Disappointment rocked her and for a horrendous long moment she wondered if maybe he didn’t desire her as she’d anticipated. Maybe he didn’t want her because she’d been with so many of his co-workers. Maybe he still belonged to the old-fashioned world and stuck with the idea of wanting a pure, untouched woman. God, wouldn’t that be something? And just her rotten luck too, because she really desired him.
He moved, catching her off guard, making her inhale sharply. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and gazed at her.
His tussled golden-blonde hair made her think of sleepless nights making love with him. The dark shadow he wore so well on his face made the insides of her thighs clench as she imagined his stubble rubbing her while he slurped her pussy into his mouth. Just thinking of having him between her legs brought a flush of heat to her cheeks and excitement raced through her system.
The slight bump on his nose—as if someone had recently broken it—on his otherwise flawless face made her wonder if he might be violent. She didn’t know him. He could slap her around for daring to come into his room uninvited. But then why the heated looks for her when he’d first arrived? Did she burn for a man she’d misread? Or was this just wishful, old-fashioned thinking on her part, hoping he craved her as badly as she needed him thrusting into her?
No, she couldn’t be wrong about him. He wanted her and, oh God, she wanted him.
He said nothing as she pulled the shirt open to reveal her breasts and her pussy. Instead he sat on the edge of the bed and looked into her eyes. Watching. Waiting. Seemingly unaffected by her exposure.
He didn’t reach out to her as she’d hoped. Didn’t touch her. Didn’t do a thing.
Bastard.
Rejection slammed into her and she winced at the unexpected pain. Maybe she should just leave.
“Don’t stop,” he growled in a strangled voice.
“The man speaks,” she replied, unable to stop her anger. If only he would have taken her into his arms.
