Agent E2: Aidan (Superhero Romance) (The D.I.R.E. Agency) (7 page)

Shoving against his chest, she pulled his hands into her grasp. “I bet you volunteer for all the female prisoners.”

He gave her a devilish grin. “Just the ones that rack me.”

Guiding his hand slowly up her ribcage, she stopped just shy of her breast. “I just wanted to thank you for saving my father’s life.”

Aidan’s eyes dilated to near black. Her breathing hitched. His long finger toyed with the underside of her breast, her body tingling under his gentle assault.

“Aidan…” Moaning softly, she laid back her head and shut her eyes. 

“Damn, Cass…”

His palm covered her breast. She caught her breath before he crushed his mouth to hers once again. He groaned into her moist recesses as he fondled her to near madness. His large hand easily covered her thirty-six C breast.

That’s when it hit her – where were his gloves?

She pulled away, her voice breathless. “Where are your gloves?”

Kneading her thoroughly, he trailed kisses from her temple to her cheek. “Back in the office.”

She stilled, a hand on his where it covered her. “So, when you saved my father…

He just stared at her.

Cassandra knew her eyes must look like spinning wheels. “That’s impossible...”

He backed away from her.

She glanced at his armbands. “It has to do with your armbands, doesn’t it?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “No comment.”

She waved an arm out to her side. “No comment?”

The handcuff dangled beside them like a lighted billboard.

His gaze held hers as he caught it and cuffed together her

hands.

Cass sobered. He put her in her place, didn’t he?

She’d made herself a convenient source of pleasure. A desperate woman that threw herself at him after he saved her father’s life. A pitiful woman with no more self-pride than to make out with a
D.I.R.E.
agent while another watched down the hall.

Covering her face with her cuffed hands, Cass shook her head. What was wrong with her? He was Aidan Monroe, son of her father’s enemy, son of the woman that gave her father a lifetime of hurt, agent of the D.I.R.E. Agency, Naylor Interests’ greatest foe, and employee of Mitchell Jacobs, a man her father hated more than anyone on earth.

Way to go, Cass. You know how to pick them.

Swallowing hard, Cass turned away. She raised her head high and started around the corner.

“Where are you going?”

Looking back over her shoulder, she gave him a sultry smile. “Down the hall to see if the other agent can tell me what I want to know.”

Snatching up her hands in his fist, Aidan pulled her back to him. He kissed her with bruising force, his knee between her thighs.

Cass clung to his shirt, returning his kiss with the same passion he wielded on her. His hands skimmed down her sides to cup her rear. They moaned together.

Why did her body react as though he were the only man that could tame it? It infuriated her that he could do this. She didn’t want him to have that command over her.

You’re such a fool, Cassandra. You’re his captive, for gripes sake.

Turning away, she shut her eyes. “I hate you.”

The heat of his big body disappeared. Cool, fresh air washed over her. Blinking open her eyes, he stood away from her, his brows furrowed. Tiny zaps of electricity sounded around him.

“Hate me all you want, but let me make a few things clear, Miss
Naylor
:
You
are
my
prisoner. You have
zero
rights around here. You will learn about my…
abilities
when
and if
I want you to know.” Crowding her against the wall, Aidan leaned in close and inhaled the scent of her hair. “But most important of all, when you share a D.I.R.E. agent’s bed, it
will
be mine.”

Aidan shoved open the D.I.R.E. office door with a growl.

“Robert Naylor died...”

Mitchell and Tristan looked up from the pile of belongings on the table. Mitchell’s face turned white.

“…and I freaking saved him.”

Aidan paced the room like a caged panther. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days.

“Why the hell did I do it?” He shoved his hand through his hair. “I hate the man for what he did to Rachel, to you Jacobs, for what Dar almost did to Mom.” He cursed under his breath. “I need Robinson to examine my head.”

Tristan lowered the gun he studied. “Was Cassandra in the room?”

Aidan nodded. “Mom, too.”

“Was Cassandra crying?” Mitchell held up a bullet to the light.

He stopped to stare at them. “Yes.”

“There you go.” Tristan gave a brisk nod. “The first time I saw Rachel cry, it terrified me.”

Mitchell said, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Monroe. We’ve all been there.”

Tristan turned to stare at his father. Aidan knew Mitchell didn’t talk about Tristan’s mother.

Ever
.

Hell. They were right. He did it for Cassandra. When he saw her crying like that, all he could think about was fixing the situation for her.

Why? She’d proven to be a major tease and a pain in the ass.

His body still hummed for her. That episode in the hallway had been the hottest make out session of his life, and he’d had plenty of them.

Tristan and Mitchell acted like saving Robert’s life ranked right up there with saying yes to a one-night stand or drinking too much. The man had literally died and Aidan had brought him back with the touch of his hand.

He stared down at his hands and the bands on each forearm. D.I.R.E. had given him super powers. Power to kill an engine and save a life.

Why couldn’t he stop the space craft tonight?

“So, why couldn’t I stop that machine tonight, Mitchell? I did the exact same thing I did to Cassandra’s car yesterday but, my energy seemed to make it stronger rather than overload it.”

“I’m hoping to get some answers from our prisoner.” Mitchell picked up a video recorder and a file. “Tristan, I think we need to teleport back to HQ to interrogate him. I have a feeling he’s going to need some persuasion.”

Aidan crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve got a shower in the interrogation room and we’ve got me. I can get him to talk.”

Mitchell gave a brief nod.

Tristan tossed a revolver at Aidan. He caught it in his fist.

“It’s a Junior Commando, Monroe.”

“Which goes along with what Ben told you.” Aidan studied the two-inch barrel and non-gloss, Parkerized finish on the gun.

“Yep. And we’ve got brand new .38 caliber cartridges made by the Mainland Corporation.”

“We need to get some answers.” Aidan set down the gun on the table and retrieved his gloves from a locked cabinet. “And, I’m in the mood to torture someone.”

Tugging on his gloves, Aidan secured them to his armband. “Who better than the man that tried to kill me and probably killed my father?”

#####

“What are you doing?”

Tristan cuffed the man’s wrists to the showerhead in the empty hospital room. He plugged up the drain with rubber gloves and turned on the water at a steady trickle.

“Why’d you have to take off my clothes?” The man hung in the shower wearing only white briefs. “Are you going to bring me that beautiful dame I saw out in the hallway? I’d like a stab at that.”

Frowning, Tristan looked at Aidan.

“He’s talking about Rachel.”

Scowling, Tristan stood back from the shower stall to give Aidan room. “Let me introduce you to the dame’s brother, you sonvabitch. He’s got something for you.”

Sparks danced off the diodes on Aidan’s fingers.

The man’s eyes widened as water ran into his eyes. “Stay

away from me.”

Aidan tilted his head to the side. “Give us the answers we

want and you get to keep your skin.”

The man’s gaze bounced off of Aidan, to Tristan, and finally Mitchell, who held the video recorder in the bathroom doorway.

“What do you want to know?”

Mitchell said, “What’s your name?”

He spat water from his lips. “Groucho Marx.”

With a grimace, Aidan shook his head. He touched the man on the chest with one finger.

He quivered like a live fish, electricity buzzing in the room. “
No, no
…”

Backing off, Aidan spread out his fingers in front of him. “I did that with the touch of a finger. Imagine what I can do with both hands.”

“Okay, okay.” The sailor shook his head once, flinging water droplets on them. “What do you want to know?”

Mitchell’s tone was all business.“Your name.”

“Lt. Henry Buckner, serial number three, zero-”

Mitchell held up a hand. “What branch of the military?”

“United States Navy.”

“Are you a SEAL?”

He frowned. “A what?”

Aidan and Tristan exchanged a glance. How could the guy be in the Navy and not know about the SEAL teams?

Mitchell twirled his hand as if to encourage memories. “A member of the United States Navy Special Forces...”

The man shook his head. “I was with the Seventh Amphibious Scouts.”

What the hell? The Seventh Amphibious Scouts were active during World War II. This guy was probably in his mid-thirties and obviously delirious.

Mitchell’s voice sounded low, controlled. “What year is it, Lt. Buckner?”

“Here? Or at home?”

Aidan said, “What do you mean here or-“

Mitchell cut off Aidan. “At home, Lieutenant.”

“Nineteen forty-four.”

The pieces fell into place like a child’s puzzle box. The Junior Commandos, the retro Navy uniforms, the need for gun technology, the limited transportation capabilities.

The man had traveled to the future to buy weapons.

The machine they saw last night was a freaking time machine.

“Mitchell, we need to regroup,” Tristan said.

“You
think
?” Shock left Aidan paralyzed.

“Lieutenant, why did you come to the future?” Mitchell said.

Henry glanced at Aidan. He covered his fist with his other hand. The man’s eyes grew wide with fear.

The bastard had better start singing like a lark.

“Me and Johnkowski were ordered to escort the dame to the future and make sure we brought back the computer and the gold.”

Hundreds of questions zipped through Aidan’s head like bullets. The three of them spoke in unison.

Tristan said, “You were supposed to bring the gold with you.”

Mitchell said, “Who ordered you to escort her?”

Aidan said, “Who is she?”

Buckner shook the water from his eyes. “You guys are going to get me killed.”

Aidan said, “Look at it this way: you’re guaranteed a painful death now, or you can take your chances when and if you get back.”

Shutting his eyes, Buckner shook his head. “God above, help me.”

What a damned hypocrite. “Did you ask for help when you tried to kill the woman last night?” Aidan took a step toward him.

“Okay, okay.” Buckner took a deep breath. “The dame is Professor Chalmers’ daughter. She works with the Professor and his wife, and Professor Einstein.”

Mitchell juggled the camera in his hands. Tristan whipped around to stare at him. Shaking his head, Mitchell leaned against the door frame.

“Professor Nathan Chalmers?” Mitchell said.

The man gave a brief nod. “I was ordered to escort her by…” He swallowed again as he gazed at Aidan.

“You’re screwed either way, Buckner.”

He cursed under his breath. “Colonel Otto VonFussenhoffer.”

Aidan pulled back his head. “A freaking German?”

Tristan fisted his hands at his sides. “You’re a spy?”

“Germany’s going to win the war. I want to be on the right side.”

Aidan closed in on him, stopping just shy of the water. “Let me fill you in on a little something, asshole. Germany loses.”

He gave Aidan a superior grin. “Not if we change the future.”

Rage exploded inside of Aidan, flakes of electricity zapping around him. Images of pale, starving prisoners in concentration camps shot through his head. The guy deserved to die a slow death.

Grabbing the man by the arms, Aidan shook him. Buckner bucked and convulsed where he hung.

“You bastard, you’ve already changed the future by coming here.”

Buckner’s grin showed weak, but arrogant. “Yes.”

Tristan pulled away Aidan. He twisted and fought to release himself.