Bent (The Gifted Series) (3 page)

              This was not the usual MO.  Something was definitely up.

              She toweled off, noticing that the light near the stairs came on.  Someone was approaching.  In no hurry, she sauntered over to the plastic basket of clean clothes in the corner of her sparse quarters and slipped on another identical pair of gray yoga pants and snug white tank top—apparently this was her assigned wardrobe when lounging about home-sweet-hell.

              “Jocelyn!” a voice of complete authority snapped.  One that made Joss' blood boil.
 
Joss could hear the click of the woman’s heels, but there was another set of footsteps, so Joss knew Patrice brought along one of her lackeys.

              Joss turned slowly, toweling her wet hair as if she didn't have a care in the world.  She steeled her green eyes and greeted coldly, “I see you’ve returned, Patrice.  Time away with family perhaps?”  There weren’t many Landons left, so if there was any truth to the Marcus rumor this might get a rise.

              Ire flickered in Patrice’s eyes but quickly died.

             
Gothcha
! Joss silently celebrated.

              “My whereabouts are no concern of yours.  You’ll be sent on a mission in a few days.” Patrice’s icy stance matched her rigid appearance: tall, thin frame with a sharp straight nose and beady icy blue eyes that shot unrelenting daggers.  Joss knew those eyes wished ardently to break her shield and read her, and aye, how they’d repeatedly and painfully tried.

              “Another trip to the tropics?” Joss casually tossed the wet towel toward the plastic hamper.  She then grabbed a plastic pick and began tackling her tangled heap of hair.  Everything in Joss’ cell was made of either plastic, plexiglass, or manufactured metal—things Joss couldn’t telekinetically control.  Now give her a rock pile, trees or even dirt and she was in business.  Water was another matter, however; it took a vast amount of strength to wield the fluid stuff, and her strength was already limited.

              Patrice offered her a perfected smile/sneer. “You, mere drudge, are on a need to know basis.  However, I do have a few things I need to know.”

              Joss stood impassively, picking through the tangles.  What she wouldn’t give for a bottle of conditioner.  “I don’t know what questions you could possibly have.  You’ve already picked my brain …extensively.”  Of course, they only saw what she allowed them to see, but she was ashamed to admit that their initial torture methods forced her to divulge more than she wanted.  She glanced at her pinky nail, cringing that it never grew back.

              Before her capture, Joss would have described herself as a bit, well … wimpish.  She wasn’t a coward, per say, but didn’t seem to have the necessary constitution for the agency.  She honestly never desired the life. 

              Regrettably, since her capture, she’d spent many a long night rethinking her choices.  At least one was protected if they worked for the agency. 
Damn this gift
! And damn the evil woman standing before her.  This woman killed the previous soft-hearted Jocelyn and created a ruthless assassin, and this assassin desired nothing more than to strangling her maker.

             
Rue the day
! she mentally screamed toward the lanky stick-figure before her. 

              “So, Jocelyn, do you know this man?” Nathaniel handed Patrice a photo which she then held up for Joss to view.

              Joss’ heart stopped. 
Please no
! It was a head shot of her cousin Declan.  The slight curl to his auburn hair, his broad, teasing smile and jovial eyes that always held a hidden joke.  How her girlfriends loved those dancing eyes.  Joss fought to maintain an impassive stance because she knew what Patrice’s next words would be.  She knew who she’d be forced to kill.

              Patrice hesitated, studying her. “You do make a fine assassin, Jocelyn.  Void of emotion.  Always thorough and expeditious in your work. Yes, you’re the perfect choice for the job.”  Her icy blues drilled Joss as her long, perfectly manicured finger tapped her chin.  She awaited Joss’ explosion.

              Joss’ jaw tightened; her fists clenched at her sides.  “Why?  Why him, Patrice?”

              Patrice donned a smug sneer, enjoying the moment.  Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, “Because he was one of many who had a hand in Marcus’ death and he, like the rest in that revolting agency, will die.  Once you’re through killing him, you’ll slowly pick off the rest, and then I will kill you—the visible defiance in your eyes challenges my nerves.” Patrice swiveled sharply, her heels clicking the concrete as she strode away with Nathaniel two paces behind.

              Joss stood shaking, overflowing with hatred to the likes she’d never known.  The lights in her cell shut off, and her head fell back as one year and nine months worth of pent up rage exploded from her chest, screaming into the darkness.

             
Chapter 3

“Baby, what’s on today’s schedule?” Tiago asked, jogging into his and Leah's quarters.  He kicked off his running shoes and began to undress.

              Leah halted from making their bed.  She never tired of watching Tiago strip down to the bod almighty God graced him with. 
Mercy
, he was fine.  She plopped at the end of their bed, her eyes perusing his back and everything south.  He swiveled. “Leah, what’s—” he halted, catching her gawking. 

              Her grin widened as another part of him responded to her perusal.  “Insatiable woman,” he growled.  “And lucky me, it looks like you haven’t showered.”

              “Nope.” She grinned. “And I’m a dirty, dirty girl.”

              Tiago stalked forward and thrust his hands into her bed head.  He dipped for a kiss, making Leah glad that she always brushed first thing.  She welcomed his lush lips and deepened the act. 

              After another growl of pleasure, Tiago pulled back.  “Sorry I didn’t stay up with you last night, but I was bone tired.  How’d the family reunion go?  You came to bed pretty late.”

              Leah stood, stretching in his arms and fighting back a yawn.  She’d flopped into bed around two, after catching up with Bowen and Ray.  “Bo’s agreed to stay and help out,” she began. “Mattis offered him a private contract, but Bo shot him the bird.”

              Tiago chuckled aloud.  “I like that dude.”

              Focussed on her thoughts, Leah scowled. “Truth be told, I think he’s here to babysit me.”

              “Good,” Tiago barked, not even attempting to hide his approval.

              Leah’s eyes narrowed. “As difficult as it might be to shoot your gorgeously naked ass down, don’t tempt me.”  She hated being coddled.

              Tiago pecked her nose.  “Baby, we can use all the help we can get, and who better to protect you than your own family.”

              She snickered. “Yeah, one half wants to protect me from the other half who wants to destroy me.”

              “Exactly. So Bowen is more than welcome to stay as long as he likes.”

              Her head bobbed, considering.  “I’ll admit, it’ll be nice having him around.” Since being taken by the agency, Leah’s life went from loneliness and confusion to a sense of family unity and wholeness.  Granted, learning that Marcus Landon was her father and her mother’s ruthless murderer didn’t exactly fill her with joy, but she did have to credit his lineage with stellar abilities.  Ones that she’d gladly use to crush the lot of the remaining Landons.  

              She smiled at the thought, then her eyes roamed Tiago, and her smile shifted to the seductive variety.  The man before her filled her with a contentment that comforted and scared her in the same breath.  She’d die of heartbreak if she lost Gracen.  She then glanced at the alarm clock.  “Seize the moment, Gracen.  I’m leaving with Carter and Declan in forty.  We’re investigating gifted reports from up near Chehalis.”

              Tiago began working her PJ bottoms to the floor.  “I’d rather you didn’t go.”

              She gave him a glare, and he flatly followed up with a practiced speech, “But I know I need to get over my protective nature.  You’re an agent in training and this is the life you chose.”  This caused her to smile triumphantly as he roughly tugged her tank over her head, sending her hair swirling about her head and face. His ire seemed to have vanished as he zeroed in on her breasts.  He
adored
them.  They were like a honing device designed for Gracen’s distraction.  She tested this repeatedly by walking around their room naked and noting where he steadily gazed—always on her perky, not-so-little breasts.

              Growling like a possessive griz, he roughly cupped one and dipped his head for a deep suck.  “Mine all mine,” he muttered as his other hand claimed the lonely breast to the left. 

              Leah moaned at his possession.  “I know you love the
girlies
, Gracen,”—her hands indicating that ‘girlies’ meant breasts— “but what about me?” She batted her lashes.

              With that, Tiago ducked and tossed her over his shoulder.  He gave her ass a hard slap that he knew she loved and charged into the bathroom. “Oh baby, let me show you how much I love you.”

              Tiago stepped straight into the shower before allowing Leah to slide down his body.  As she slid, her thighs caught his rigid cock, trapping him, and he halted her from sliding further.

              “I’ve got you where I want you,” she teased in a sinister tone.

              His mouth abruptly covered hers and she reached back and turned on the water.  A cold stream gushed forward, nailing Tiago in the back, but he quickly whipped around, placing Leah in the frigid stream.  She gasped and laughed aloud, her thighs loosening and releasing hold of his sizable cock.

              Tiago reached behind her and adjusted the temperature, his eyes admiring how the water sluiced over her body.  The warmth engulfed, and he grabbed the body gel and began to wash her all over, paying special attention to his favorite area.  He loved to rub her down—in the shower, in their bed, late at night in the dining hall, the TV room, hell, in the woods that surrounded the camp.  Tiago touched and studied her body as if carnally inspecting every nuance.

              “Not that I don’t enjoy the dedication to your craft, but I think the
girlies
are clean,” she said after a bit.

              Tiago only growled and slipped his hand to the tiny patch of hair between her thighs.  “I’m just being thorough, Ma’am. You’re like an exotic fruit.” His lip curled slyly. “And I always wash my fruit before I eat it.”

              Pleasure coursed through Leah when Tiago’s finger slipped within.  She giggled softly, replying “Nice play on words, baby, but I’m hungry for breakfast too.”  With that she broke his connection, spun him into the spray and dropped to her knees.  She grabbed a firm hold of his cock and stroked it as the water ran down his Adonis frame.

              Tiago went to grab her by the shoulders, playfully saying, “Oh no you don’t. Me first.” But as his grip tightened upon her, Leah’s mouth quickly descended, taking him deep and pulling back with a desperate suck.

              “Fuck!” Tiago gritted, and his grip loosened.  His hands wrapped around her head in a firm hold and his hips began a slight thrust.  Just enough to tell Leah she’d won and that he was putty in her hands.  She smiled around his cock and continued her ministrations.  She loved giving him head and couldn’t contain her moan of pleasure.

              “Oh yeah, baby … so deep,” Tiago groaned.

              She sucked twice more, then pulled out, continuing to stroke him with her hand as she lowered her head and took one of his balls into her mouth.  His gasping curse indicated just how much he enjoyed this.  Tiago steadied himself by gripping the top of the glass shower door and the tile wall.  His panting and groans of pleasure increased with each stroke of her hand and suck of her mouth.

              Suddenly, she was yanked upright; she gasped with excitement looking into the deep depths of Tiago’s sexually riled eyes. 

              Without breaking their connection, he reached behind him, turned off the water, and then stepped forward, his naked body literally pushing her out of the shower.  Leah chuckled playfully, filled with expectancy.  “We haven’t even washed our hair,” she admonished.

              “I don’t give a fuck,” his deep voice replied, continuing to back her up like predator to prey.

              They were now back in the bedroom, and Leah eyed him curiously. “What do you have in mind?” 

              A wicked smile curved before he lunged.  He dipped low and scooped Leah over his shoulder, then tossed her onto their bed and in one swift motion, grabbed her under her knees, her legs automatically fell over his forearms, and he jerked her upward.  The only part of her body that remained on the bed was her head and shoulders. 

              With her legs secured over his forearms, his hands gripped her inner thighs and he spread her wider.  An instant later his mouth descended at the apex of her thighs, and the feast began.

              “Oh yeah.  You are so ready for me,” Tiago said, lapping up her desire.  “I could cum just tasting you,” he continued, quick to delve deeper and thrust his tongue with relentless need.

              Leah was overwhelmed.  Her body heightened to the peak of pleasure.  His tongue was magic and the way she hung, suspended in the air, left her with the inability to shift or move.  She could only brace herself for the onslaught of his sinful tongue.

              Through a greedy growl, Tiago’s mouth clamped over Leah’s clit and he suckled hard, then swirled his tongue around and around before suckling again.

              This was all it took.  A moan burst from her lungs, and her body jack-knifed further, arching higher off the bed.  Tiago tightened his grip on her thighs, and his devil tongue continued to swirl as if it had not a care in the world.

              As Leah came down from heaven, Tiago lowered her to the mattress.  He then slowly climbed along her body, planting his rigid shaft between her aching thighs.  She needed him—had to feel his cock pumping from within.