Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3)

Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3) Page 15

Dallas gripped Mia’s thighs and pushed her off his shoulders and to his stomach, allowing his throat to breathe. “Get off me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You will not hurt her.”

Dallas’s arms fell uselessly to his sides, and Mia grinned smugly. “You can’t hurt me,” she said.

“I hope both of you rot in hell,” Dallas told the couple.

“Those headaches you’re having,” Kyrin said. “They appear because you’re fighting your visions. Stop fighting them and the headaches will go away.”

Stop fighting them? Yeah right. He shook his head. “All they show is pain and death.”

Mia trudged off him completely, smile gone. Concern radiated from her as she held out a hand to help him up. “I had no idea you were having visions. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You haven’t exactly been around lately,” he grumbled, sitting up on his own.

Bright color spotted her cheeks. “You know why I left.”

Yeah. He knew. She had half brothers and half sisters out there and she was determined to find them. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Kyrin, too, held out a hand to help him up.

Once again, Dallas moved on his own. He stood, a little unsteady.

Kyrin sighed and dropped his arm. “You blocked a vision in there. When you did, it flowed into me. Want to know what it was?”

“No.” Because deep down, a part of him already knew. Having it confirmed by the otherworlder might change his mind, turn him into a coward, keeping him home and away from Jaxon. That he could not allow.

The alien told him anyway. “You’re about to start a domino effect. You leave here to save your friend, and your life will be changed forever. And not for the better.”

CHAPTER 9

Jaxon battled a rage unlike any he had ever experienced before. All because of one woman.

Le’Ace had made several critical errors tonight. The first: she’d left her phone on the nightstand while she showered, allowing him to call Dallas. The second: allowing him to remove one inner wire and reroute the others to more easily track her. The third: disabling the motorbike and thinking he would not be able to fix it.

The fourth and most grievous mistake: she’d kissed him and left him for another man.

Jaxon might have stepped into her bedroom with every intension of softening her, using her, and ultimately tricking her into revealing information, but she had stepped out of the bathroom naked, skin glistening with moisture, and he had softened. Emotionally, that is. He’d hardened physically. Sexual hunger for her and no other had been his only concern.

And when she’d so rawly asked him to pretend it was her first kiss, looking as vulnerable as a teenager and as needy as someone dying of starvation, the Schön case had ceased to exist for him.

Either she was a stellar actress, which, as Marie, she’d proven to be inside the Delensean cell, or she had been a victim of violence at one point. Jaxon suspected the latter. He’d interviewed enough victims to recognize the signs: the hesitance, the haunted gleam in the eyes, the utter shock at finally reaching orgasm.

To survive, I do what I have to, she’d told him. That bothered him, too. Why did she feel she was in danger? What vile things did she think she had to do to survive? What did she think would happen to her if she didn’t do these things? Why did she need to get close to the Schön when females were clearly in danger from them? Why did she place herself so willingly in jeopardy?

The answers eluded him.

As he leaned against the cane he’d brought along for the ride, his gaze slid over her. Her chest rose and fell erratically, as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath. Her legs trembled, as if her slight weight were nearly too much to balance. Her skin was pale, all color washed away.

Her nipples were not hard. So. Leaning into that fucking alien scum hadn’t aroused her. Jaxon’s death grip on the cane finally loosened. Until that fucking alien scrum reached up and touched her arm.

A surge of jealousy. A lance of possessiveness. He experienced both and was pissed at himself, at Le’Ace. He stopped in his tracks, knowing he’d murder the bastard if he kept going. Only when she brushed the man’s hand aside did Jaxon relax. He’d never tasted anyone so sweet. Never touched anyone more perfectly suited for his hands, his body. Right now, she was his. He would not share, not even for a case.

Calm again, Jaxon lumbered forward, forcing his expression to remain neutral even as his ankle and wrist screamed in pain. He spotted three men who had to be Le’Ace’s accomplices. Two were playing pool and one was flirting with the bartender. Their eyes were too sharp, their attention too focused on what was happening around them, and not in front of them, for them to be anything else.

Le’Ace kicked into motion and met him halfway. They stood in the center of the bar, the only two people left in existence. Her emerald green eyes flashed with panic. And relief?

“What are you doing here?” she whispered fiercely.

He glared down at her, trying to squelch his own sense of relief. “You’re not the only one who’s good at their job.”

“Well, great going. You’ve placed yourself in danger.”

“So have you.”

“You’ve blown my cover, asshole.”

Without looking away from her lovely, angry features, he shifted his focus to his periphery and thereby the alien. “Your target isn’t going anywhere. He’s already sent three women away so he can watch you. You’ve snagged his attention. Mission accomplished.”

Her eyes slitted, hiding her irises so that all he could see was blazing black. “My mission was to learn about him. Now he’s wondering who the hell I am, and he won’t tell me a damn thing.”

Unless she seduced him? The implication drifted from the undercurrents of her voice, and Jaxon saw red. “You want to learn about him? Fine. Take me to his table, introduce me as your brother, and then shut the hell up. I’ll get answers. But if you touch him, even one more time…” The haze of red deepened, intensified, and he had to press his lips together before he started howling.

“He won’t believe you’re my brother,” she snapped. “He’s not an idiot.”

“Then tell him I’m your man, I honestly don’t give a fuck.” Jaxon’s sense of reserve was completely gone, leaving no filter for his words. “Let’s just get this shit done.”

She sucked in a breath. Not in anger, but in…what? Arousal? She shivered then, and he knew. Oh, yes. Arousal. That would mean…surely not. That would mean she liked it when he let go, when he stopped pretending to be something he wasn’t. He’d suspected earlier, but having it unequivocally confirmed was as delicious as her kiss.

“I told him I’m single,” she said, all hint of her anger gone.

“Now tell him you lied.”

“No.”

Several minutes ticked by, and the sounds around them began to seep into his awareness. Laughter, chatter, a wild hammer of rock music, bottles clinking together, and footsteps in and out of the building. His healing corneas were still sensitive, so he appreciated the muted light forming a dreamlike haze.

Obviously, Le’Ace didn’t want him near her target. To protect Jaxon? Or her own interests? Hell, the other-worlder was pretty enough to draw a man’s interest. Maybe Le’Ace wanted him all to herself for reasons that had nothing to do with her assignment. He didn’t arouse her, remember?

“You know what?” he said. “I have a better idea.” He stalked around her and toward the alien as best he could. Damn wounds. He’d never been more conscious of infirmity or hated it more.

Deciding to play the enraged boyfriend even though she’d claimed to be single, he scowled down at the Schön. “She’s mine,” he said, and there was enough truth in his tone to fool even himself. She’s mine for the time being, he had to remind himself.

“I realized this,” his opponent said patiently, calmly. There was even an edge of intrigue in his odd, multilayered tone.

Jaxon’s first instinct was to arrest the bastard here and now. He knew the evilness this race was capable of, had seen it firsthand, and had been forced to kill humans because of it. More than that, he liked being in total control of a situation, and having this creature in lockup would give Jaxon at least a little control. Out here, in the open, there were too many variables.

However, he understood the need for reconnaissance before an arrest. He understood that sometimes the only way to gain answers was to watch, wait, and trick.

More important than capturing this man was finding out where the rest of the Schön were hiding, how they operated, what weapons and skills they possessed. The last was the big one. Some aliens could move at hyperspeed. Some could dominate humans with only a thought. Some could even walk through walls.

And, weak as Jaxon still was, he didn’t want to risk losing the battle to subdue the alien or losing a chase, thereby alerting the suspect that A.I.R. was now on his trail, possibly sending the bastard underground.

“You are in pain,” the alien said, and motioned to one of the empty chairs. “Sit. Please.”

So polite, so unconcerned. Not the reaction he’d expected. Jaxon allowed confusion to show on his features. “I came over here to kick your ass.”

The alien smiled, but the expression was not smug. Merely amused. “I guessed,” he said, not stating the obvious: Jaxon didn’t look capable of fighting with his zipper in order to pee, much less the hulking giant. “However, nothing happened between me and your woman. I was in need of conversation and she provided it.”

Your woman. Those two words stroked his sense of possessiveness, easing his anger. “You wanted more from her, though.”

Rather than reply, the alien waved the waitress over and ordered a round of beers. “Last chance to sit. Allow me to buy you a drink. You look as though you could use it.”

If he pushed much more, the Schön might leave. Doing his best to appear weary as well as pacified, he finally sat. Then, he kicked out a chair and motioned for Le’Ace to take it.

She was still standing in the center of the bar, watching him, and she had yet to mask her shock. I’ve tasted her. I’ve held her, pleasured her. The distracting thoughts formed before he could stop them. She was a vision of femininity in her tight black dress and gloves.

“She likes to play hard-to-get,” he told the alien, his voice stiff. “But I am her man.”

“I do not doubt you.” The Schön offered him another smile. “My effect on women is powerful and can sway even the most devoted. She would not have come to me otherwise. I knew that from the beginning.”

He had, had he? How?

Le’Ace joined them in a huff, settling beside Jaxon and crossing her arms over her chest. He supposed she’d opted to play the upset girlfriend who liked to pout. “Nolan, meet Jay. Jay, Nolan. Everyone knows I’m Jane. Now we’re all introduced…”

They should go their separate ways, he finished for her in his mind. Smart move, though, working their names into the conversation so he wouldn’t accidentally blow her cover. Well, more than he already had.

He turned away from her and focused on “Nolan.” A fake name if ever he’d heard one. As fake as Jay and Jane.

“A fight?” the alien asked before he could reply, motioning to his cane.

“Motorbike accident.”

“Ah.”

Jaxon eyed the otherworlder intently, not even trying to hide his curiosity. “What race are you? I can’t place you.” Yes, he knew the answer. He simply wanted to know if Nolan would admit it.

A rude question, but the alien didn’t appear offended. “Your people call me Schön.”

Again, not the response Jaxon had expected. He shrugged to hide his surprise. “Never heard of it.”

Nolan gave a shrug of his own. “That does not mean we do not exist.”

The beers arrived. The waitress, a hard-looking bleached blonde with smeared lipstick and large breasts not held up by a bra, paused to caress Nolan’s jawline. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, thank you.”

The woman sighed in disappointment, her expression almost trancelike.

“Leave us,” Nolan said, and she did.

Jaxon swallowed a gulp of beer, eyeing Nolan over the rim. “Been here long?”

“Only a few weeks,” was the reply.

“Having fun?”

Something almost sad coasted over the Schön’s pretty face. “No. Leaving one’s home is never fun.”

“Why come here, then?” Jaxon posed the question as simple curiosity, yet he was on high alert. Was Nolan telling the truth or acting? And if he was acting, why? Did he suspect something?

Nolan’s eyes met his. They were illuminated by hundreds of tiny stars, stars that seemed to be dulling with every second that passed. “Sometimes a location change is the only way to survive.”

Survival.

“Was your planet dying or something?” Le’Ace asked as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the tabletop. She appeared enthralled by Nolan’s words.

“Or something.” Nolan mimicked Jaxon’s earlier swig and tossed back the contents of his bottle. “Tell me about the two of you. I am most interested in all things dealing with love.”

“I don’t love him,” Le’Ace said, staring down at her hands. There was a twinge of uncertainty in her voice, a shake that told of inner torment and confusion. “I can’t.”

Well played. Perhaps she was a good enough actress to fool him in bed; perhaps she had never been sexually assaulted and just liked to pretend. Jaxon knew she didn’t love him, but the uncertainty in her voice, as if she possibly could love him but didn’t want to, was masterful.