Elite Metal-ARE-epub (75 page)

Rose spinning in her living room made hope possible if not probable. Part of Eli would always be on that fucked up mission, wondering how it all went so bad.

Every time the beautiful redhead laughed at something he said, she offered him a glimpse of something pure left in a dark world. Maybe The Boy could have a shot at it. Maybe Elijah might…

“Are you going to kiss me?” He tuned in immediately with her question. Truth was, he never should have let himself become distracted. Every word she uttered fascinated him. He wanted to remember every single detail.

Elijah walked toward her and placed his hand on her cheek. Her skin was so soft. “I am going to kiss you.” She shuddered beneath his fingertips. “Were you asking in general or requesting it immediately?”

She laughed, which was what he wanted. “I guess I’m kind of pushy, aren’t I?”

“You’re used to being in charge. You run your classroom, your life, and you arrange things. I enjoy those traits about you. Admire it. Pushy on you equates sexy.” She blushed. Her pale skin showed her every emotion. “Only how about in this way, you let me? I’ll give you what you need. I’ll take care of you, beautiful.”

“I’m not good at letting other people handle things.” She looked down and he tipped her chin to make her recapture eye contact. When he held her blue eyed gaze again, he smiled.

“I think you don’t understand how good it can be. Let’s not worry about it right this minute.” He ran his finger down his nose. “You’re lovely. So beautiful, I can’t believe I get to touch you.”

“Okay.” Except insecurity continued to flicker in her eyes.

“What are you worrying about?”

“When you say let you be in charge, do you mean BDSM, dominance, submissive stuff? Is that what you enjoy?” Her voice wavered and he tugged her against him, wanting to shelter her from whatever demons scared her.

“What I enjoy, is you. I enjoy some of it except I’d say it changes from partner to partner. I’m not living the lifestyle outside of the bedroom. At the moment, I’m not going to clubs. I have no issue with anyone who does. I used to. I guess I’ve always needed to do things my way.”

And since he’d been forcibly reinvented, he hadn’t exactly figured out what the new him would be about in any fashion. Rose was his first foray back into life he hadn’t exactly participated in fully the last time around.

“I had a bad time in college. My boyfriend. He hurt me with a flogger. I didn’t like it and the whole thing became really complicated. I hated it.”

“Hmm.” He kissed her temple, needing the contact. It wasn’t the lips though she gasped as though the contact were far more intimate. “I don’t want to hurt you. He reminds me of a lazy sadist. It’s not my kink. And you’re not a masochist. He shouldn’t have done those things with you without trying it out first.”

“What is your kink then?” Her voice went raspy; she wasn’t uninterested.

“I think we’d have to learn each other to figure out exactly what we both enjoy. We could start out very vanilla. I have no problem with anything you want. Fantasizing about you naked has gotten me through some pretty heavy-duty study sessions. Ah, and she turns red.”

“I blush. I can’t help it.” She shook her head.

He kissed her other temple. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Go on. You were saying.”

Rose didn’t steer away from subjects even if they frightened her. Another reason to admire her.

“Handcuffs, silk ties. Rope. Maybe a collar when we’re alone. As I said, we’d figure it out. You’d have a safe word. The only thing I need from you is trust. We’ve only known each other two months. Once a week for two months.” He tilted her chin up. “How about for we start with this?”

He finally gave into the gnawing urge to take her mouth. Her breath was sweet and the little mewing sound she made when he parted her lips. For once in his life, there was no rush. All of the things he had waiting for him could do just that—wait.

Eli deepened the kiss, loving how she let him. Rose might have some trepidation brought on by asshole who recklessly wielded a flogger. Still, she knew how to submit, naturally, and he was going to love showing her how much she loved it.

He pulled back from her. “Enough for today.”

“Really? Why?” Her eyes were glazed. It would be easy to take her, to make her his, to bind her to him. He knew she belonged to him.

He wouldn’t do it, not yet. Rose deserved to be wooed and although he was a man of few words he’d give her the ones he could.

“Tell me something.” He stepped back to adjust his pants. His cock had gotten hard startlingly fast. He wasn’t sixteen years old. Patience continued to be his strongest quality.
Shit, tonight would be a challenge.

“Ah…okay.” Her eyes were looking less glazed.

“Do you have science fiction posters up in your bedroom? If I take you in there am I going to see Hans Solo staring down at me?”

She twirled a piece of her hair. “Maybe.”

“Hans specifically?”

“Maybe.” Rose grinned and he traced her lip with the pad of his thumb. He wanted to remember her as she was forever.

“Anyone else? I mean I need to know who I need to compete with for your affection.”

“Have you ever seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d watched it ever. Not that he remembered. “Vampires? Really?”

Holding back from taking her was hard but talking to her? Nothing had ever been so easy or so right.

* * * * *

Now

Whoever shot at The Boy and The Rose turned out to be a pretty bad sniper. Plat looked up at the building across the street toward where the victim—shot across the street from where Kent lived—had been gunned down. The roof gave easy access, good vision, plenty of places to hide.

And yet whoever started such a private war with him missed the intended target. A clean shot wouldn’t have broken off and hit the building next to it. At least not a mistake he made, which meant whoever this fucker was terrifying his people and killing old women wasn’t up to snuff.

Plat took out his phone and dialed Copper. Steele’s timeline notwithstanding, he needed some help before he lost his way.

She picked up on the first ring. “Platinum?”

“If I’m arrested, I’m going to need you to spring me out of jail.”

Silence met his statement. After several seconds, she spoke away from the phone. “Merc, Platinum thinks he’s going to jail.” He couldn’t hear the rest of their exchange until she spoke to him again. “Where are you and how much shit are you in?”

“I’m going to break into my old apartment. The one I lived in during the time after Phoenix and before we went Metal. It’s in New York City.’

“Feeling nostalgic? Just can’t stay away? What does your old life have to do with your kid?”

“Copper, some asshole with a sniper rifle has him. And…someone else too.” She’d either figure out what he meant by his words or she wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to explain it on the phone. Copper wanted to hear about his love life about as much as he wanted to hear about hers, which amounted to none at all. “I have an old M40A5 hidden in there. It’s old but it’ll do.” The team owned the newer versions thanks to Warbucks only beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He’d chosen to handle his shit alone and flown commercial. TSA tended to frown over firearms getting on the plane.

“You’re going after the guy?”

“After I retrieve my rifle.”

“And since you’re not a burglar you’re worried you’re about to be arrested doing it.”

Time to fess up about what he really needed. “I think I can manage to extract my hidden property. If I can’t, Copper, I need you to rescue my kid. He’s with a woman and I’m going to text you the address. If I land in jail, there’s no time to waste. He’s only eight years old.”

“If you can’t save him, we will.”

“Thanks.” He’d known she’d say what she did because it’s what he would have told any of his team if they’d asked. They were his, albeit dysfunctional, family, and they were why he still did what he did day in and day out. The Marines, and eventually his team, had taken a fucked up barely ever sober angry-at-the-world twenty-two year old Timothy O’Connell and made him a man.

“Don’t get dead.”

“Right.”

He hung up. Someone would be dying only it wouldn’t be him.

Kill one man…terrorize a thousand
. No one would be fucking with what belonged to him again.

Reconnaissance was always as much his job as point, shoot, and kill. For the current mission he didn’t have time for due diligence, not when he needed to retrieve the equipment. If he’d learned anything from his time in the field, it was a bad sniper could be more of a danger than a good sniper. Whoever shot the bullet missed. Badly.

He’d thank his lucky stars he, or he supposed it could be a she, hadn’t made the shot. The victim’s family wouldn’t agree. He had to focus on his own people and see what he could do for the others later. The fact they’d tried in broad daylight on the street in New York City and not been sure they could actually do it? Those actions spoke of stupidity or desperation.

In either case, he needed to get to Rose and Kent fast. Bypassing the front door didn’t prove any problem. He possessed his old key and the building managers hadn’t bothered to change it.

Unfortunately, his luck ran out after that. The locks on his actual apartment door
had
been changed. He knocked and waited longer than needed to see if they answered. Plat pulled his hoodie up, a move he wished he’d made earlier. Elijah the medical student hadn’t garnered a lot of attention in the building, which was fine, still he didn’t want to draw anyone’s notice.

Picking locks wasn’t a skill they’d taught him in the Corps. His early days getting into trouble after his mother’s death paid this particular talent forward. A credit card and a twist of a screwdriver helped him disengage the lock.

Unlike Rose’s apartment, he didn’t really care how the current renters decorated. Four walls and a roof were all he required. Rose made her living space home and although he’d gotten close during his time in New York, Plat wasn’t certain he’d ever really had a home. .

His residences were always a place to sleep, shower, study and hide his rifle. Fortunately for him, the current tenants hadn’t noticed their closet’s false back wall. If only his luck could hold out a little bit longer.

Chapter Four

She lay on the floor in front of the fire with Kent, asleep once more, on her left. What must it be like to be able to close her eyes and forget everything the way he seemed to be able to do?

They’d eaten the can of beans she’d found in the back of a cabinet. She’d let him have the majority of it. Her stomach was in knots anyway. How could she sleep when there was somebody with a gun looking for Kent and her?

Was she being ridiculous? What was the likelihood she’d been followed all the way up to New Paltz? She should run to the car and take Kent to the police station. Rose drummed her fingers on the ground. Okay, that was exactly what she would do. In the morning when he woke they’d seek help. And hopefully they wouldn’t charge her with kidnapping. Someone was bound to understand. Weren’t they?

* * * * *

The Sniper grew tired of waiting. It wasn’t the same as when her husband lived. Sitting in silence and waiting seemed much more pleasurable when he’d been with her. Her darling had been The Sniper and she his spotter. Since the fool calling himself Platinum murdered him, she needed to be The Sniper to avenge his death.

Rose Smith wasn’t making things easier. Why wouldn’t she come out? She must be hungry, cold, and terrified. Since The Sniper would never again be able to use her police costume and have Kent believe it, she needed to wait Rose out.

By morning, if Rose and the child hadn’t come out, The Sniper would go to them. Smoke encouraged exits. Setting the cabin ablaze would mean they had no choice except to run right into her line of fire.

* * * * *

Rose hadn’t meant to sleep. She certainly didn’t intend to rest so deeply she dreamed yet she did, as if her mind needed to drop so completely out of the real world for her to be able to function.

The funny thing was, she knew she wasn’t awake, because seeing Elijah only happened in her unconscious.

Lying on the floor of her cabin, she saw him exactly as he looked two years earlier. The first time they’d been together, when she’d thought they might have a chance.

* * * * *

Two years earlier

She leaned against the door of her apartment. They had a great date. Or at least she thought it was fun. Rose could never be sure whether Eli enjoyed himself or not. He said so little.

How many other straight men liked Broadway shows? He’d spent more of the show watching her than what was going on during
Guys and Dolls
on the stage.

Still, he’d bought tickets. Coupled with the dinner he’d taken her to the week before, she felt more and more he wasn’t some poor medical student living on student loans. It was rude to ask about money so she wouldn’t. Elijah never talked about his past. Could she ask him how he’d come to be a med student at thirty-five years old?

If it weren’t for the complete lack of information he’d be perfect. So, she wouldn’t complain. Who wanted perfection anyway? How boring.

“What are you thinking about?” He leaned forward, invading her personal space. He exuded warmth and she’d love to roll around in the gravity of his heat. Should she invite him inside?

They needed to talk about the things he’d brought up the last time they were together. The topics which kept her up and squirming, sometimes wet and desperate for relief her own fingers couldn’t provide. Not when she craved his cock inside of her.

Sheesh
. He was making her a sex addict and they hadn’t done anything yet.

“Do you read minds?” He smelled clean, like soap and maybe a touch of some kind of aftershave. It didn’t overwhelm her as some cologne did. In fact, it made her feel lightheaded in the best possible way. She didn’t remember brands of scents. This one she would think of as Eli’s smell for the rest of her life.