The Protectors Series Bundle (A superhero romance anthology) (30 page)

“You sure do know how to stroke a guy’s ego don’t you?” he drawled

Symone reached between them, and her delicate fingers closed around the rigid length of him. His vision blurred, and that tingle started at the base of his spine again. He’d known it from the moment he first saw her—Symone Jackson was trouble.

He dropped his forehead to hers.

“Jesus, Symone, I want you so bad.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned. “I don’t see what you’re waiting for.” She pumped his cock with her palm, once, then twice. The trembling in Garrett’s body started in his legs first. Maybe it was right what they said about guys and their erections—the blood drained from their feet first so they couldn’t run away.

“Baby, I—”

She pumped him again, but this time brought his cock to her dewy center. Garrett hissed a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, praying he didn’t come before he was inside her. Blinking rapidly, he gazed into her eyes. Gritting his teeth and inching forward into her tight channel, he gauged her reaction with each incremental move.

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, but she didn’t stop him, instead used her nails to score his back. Inching forward again, her velvet sheath clamped around his cock and he held his breath. Waves of anxiety radiated from her. “Symone, is there something you forgot to tell me?”

Her eyes were squeezed shut and she expelled a slow breath. “You really want to discuss my sex goddess status right now, or do you want to finish what you started?” She lifted her hips, inviting him to push further.

He groaned, trying to force his body to slow down. Despite what the liquid lava of her body told him to do, take, hurry, rush, mark her as his for the whole world to see. “I—you should have mentioned it.” He muttered through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t have—we would have gone—”

Her hips retreated and surged up again, retreated, then—she forced the issue when both of her hands grabbed his ass and pulled him further into her.

“Fuck. Symone.” He pushed in to the hilt, and she hissed beneath him. He tried not to move, to let her get accustomed to him and breathe for a minute. But that voice in his head wouldn’t stop. Rush. Take, Brand. He withdrew by increments, and she hissed again. But this time when he surged forward, she moaned. He planted a kiss on her lips again and waited for her gaze to meet his. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her breathing still ragged, she slowly smiled up at him. “Yes. Garrett, please don’t stop.”

That was all the invitation he needed. Withdrawing to the tip of his cock, he surged forward, keeping up that slow and steady tempo until she started to claw at his back. Her hips pumped against his, her velvet sheath swallowing the length of him.

He felt the walls of her slick lining start to convulse against him once more. Knew now what was coming. “Hold on to that feeling, baby. Ride it out. Enjoy the feeling.” He kissed her deep, one hand tugging at the tip of her breast. The other reached between them, his thumb finding the dew-slick button and circling it.

Symone threw her head back, arching her back and giving him unfettered access to her breast. “Garrett!” she called his name on a breath as her body shook beneath him.

As she rode the wave, he continued to drive into her. Longing to keep her ride going as long as he could. Wishing he could stay in their conjoined bliss for a millennia. She continued to pant and writhe under him. The sweat, a sheen on her body. “God damn, Symone, you are so beautiful.”

He muttered a curse as his balls began to ache. He needed to come. Had to fill her with his seed. But he wanted her to come again for him. He wanted to feel her body melt into his one more time. They might only have tonight, and he wanted them both to remember it. He kissed her again, before withdrawing completely. His cock gave a jerk of protest.

With a growl, he shoved a hand under her back, grabbing onto her waist. Flipping her over onto her stomach, he glided a hand down her smooth back to her perfect round ass. God, her ass was a thing of beauty. Even though she was slender, it was high and carved to fit his palms.

He drew her limp body up onto her knees. Leaning into her, he whispered, “Hold onto the headboard.”

She flicked him a cocked eyebrow over her shoulder, but she complied.

“That’s a good girl. Now spread your knees for me.” When she parted her legs, he bit back a groan. That angle gave him the world’s most perfect view of her ass. Shifting behind her, he covered her body with his again. “Are you sore, baby?” As he asked, he inserted one finger in her still slick pussy, and she moaned.

“A-A-little.”

But that didn’t stop her from moving her hips in time with his questing finger. When he added another finger, she sucked in a quick breath of air, but then moaned as his fingers retreated.

Unable to resist the temptation of her ass, he drew some of the moisture from her wet channel with his thumb and followed the thin skin of her perineum to the taut puckered skin of her ass. Drawing a slow circle around the opening, he smiled as she muttered a string of unladylike curses and quivered in his hold.

God, she was so responsive. He wanted nothing less than a lifetime to explore her body. “Not tonight, love. But maybe one day if you’re good.”

He removed his thumb and his fingers, and she cried out, “Garrett, please, I just need—”

He lined his cock up with her sweet opening, and whispered as he slid his cock into her pussy. “I know. I need you too.”

From this angle, he knew he wouldn’t last long. As he held her hips tight and rode her, she called his name. Leaning over her as their hips locked in an ancient rhythm, he played with her breasts, relishing their sweet response to his touch. Just by hovering over the sensitive skin of the full globes, her nipples puckered, inviting him to touch, to tease, to pinch.

He also couldn’t resist playing with her ass as he stroked her. He filled both palms with her cheeks, molding them as he filled her.

She let her head hand between her braced shoulders as she pushed her hips back to meet his every stroke. “God, that feels, so—”

Garrett knew the instant she started to come again. Her pussy began to milk his cock, and she threw her head back. Digging his hand into her hair, he gave her ass a quick tap. On contact, he felt her juices flood over him. Her whole body shook, and he could only hold on for the ride, digging both hands into the curves of her ass.

As she shattered around him, his vision started to grey at the edges. The tingle that had started in his spine felt more like someone had hooked him up to thousand-volt electrodes as he pumped inside of her. So close to heaven. Quickly sucking on his thumb, he slipped the moist digit between her cheeks to her tiny rosebud and drew tight firm circles around it. As blinding light exploded his vision, his whole body erupted in electric bliss.

Chapter Twelve

An hour after Symone rolled Garrett’s hulking body off of her, she slid out from under the sheets, full of guilts and what-the-fuck-have-I-dones. He might have saved her life, and he might be telling the truth bout his motives, but sleeping with him was still colossally stupid. For all intents and purposes, he was still a Tracker. She didn’t know if Peter had some specialized way of following his creations or if he could mind control them or something. Maybe this was all part of the plan. And the reason she hadn’t detected any malice or intent to harm was because he didn’t know. Or maybe she needed to stop watching the SyFy channel.

Slipping into the shower, she shuddered to think of how this was all going to play out. No matter what, Garrett was still a Tracker. A supped-up Tracker. Who’d saved her life. He’d risked his brother to save her. The knowledge squeezed at her heart and made it difficult to breathe. Feelings flooded through her, and she tried to shut them down. She didn’t need this kind of complication. She didn’t deserve this kind of loyalty. She knew what she was. Something dangerous. A killer.

“All convincing reasons, not to sleep with the potential enemy, dumbass,” she muttered to herself as the hot water soothed her achy, never-been-used muscles. But even as her mind relived what she’d done with Garrett, her body betrayed her and flushed with heat again. “Shit.” She turned the water to frigid and punished her body for a full minute before hopping out.

Hurriedly dressing in the bathroom, she opted to hold her boots for the time being. No need to wake Garrett. On tiptoe, she made her way across the room, allowing herself one last glance at his prone form and wondering what would happen to him now. It wasn’t like they could keep him at the Lair like a pet. Cassie wouldn’t let Jansen kill him, but she’d sure as shit wipe Garrett’s memory and send him packing. Symone would never see him again. And he wouldn’t remember her. “Probably for the best,” she mumbled.

Just as she tried to slip from the cabin, she heard him whisper her name.

***

The burn started in Garrett’s chest. At first, he thought he was having a heart attack, then her recognized it for what it was. He was burning. Just like he had two years ago when he’d first gotten his powers. The pain was worse than any nisulin bullet. Like his DNA was being torn apart and reformed on the cellular level. What the hell was happening? Had Reaper implanted him with some internal self-destruct button?

When he reached for Symone, looking for comfort, she wasn’t next to him. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry and his tongue too thick. Again, through a raspy throat, he forced her name off his tongue. “Symone.”

She halted in the act of slipping out the door. Her voice was soft. “Garrett. What’s wrong? Are you—” She paused then started again. “Do you need—”

She halted mid-sentence, and he reached for her again. The pain ricocheted though his body. The room spun, and he wondered for a minute if his earlier dinner would be making a reappearance. His paper-dry tongue tried to distribute moisture on his parched lips. “Symone. Please. I need—”

Still she stared at him, and still the room spun. He felt like he was floating but not in that euphoric way he did when her power coursed through him. More like he was hovering above the bed. Why wouldn’t she help him? Why was she standing there staring at him?

“H-help me,” he stuttered.

At last she sprang into action, running to the intercom. Her next words confused him.

“Send Lisa down. Hurry. Garrett’s burning. And he has a new power, bring everyone.”

The fire spread through his chest and flowed through his arms. New power? He couldn’t have heard her correctly. Though that would explain why he felt like the room was moving.

It didn’t take long before the whole team showed up. Maybe less than five minutes, but given his haze of pain, it felt like an eternity. As he burned, time stood still. The brunette doctor was the first one in. Five others poured in, some with weapons, others without. Had they come armed for him? He wanted to smirk, but it made his teeth hurt.

The blond, soldier-looking guy immediately placed himself in front of Symone, blocking her from Garrett’s view. The possessive act made Garrett clench his fists. The moment he completed the action, he instantly wished he hadn’t. Fire bolted up his arms, and he swore his head would catch fire.

The blond guy gaped at him. “I thought you said he was some kind of empath. Not fucking Superman.” He scowled. “You want to tell me why the fuck he’s naked?”

Symone stuttered “I-I—he is. I don’t understand.” She didn’t answer Jansen’s question.

The dark-haired one stepped forward. Her eyes flashed, and Garrett shuddered as pain wracked his spine. Her eyes—they were just like Reaper’s.

When she spoke, her voice was firm and strong. She was the undisputed leader of this ragtag bunch. “When Symone brought you in, you were in and out of consciousness. Can you come down?”

He tried to shake his head, but stopped the moment he realized the top of his skull might pop off. “N-no.” He gritted his teeth against the pain. “I don’t know how I got up here. I woke up in pain—”

Fire ripped through his thighs done to his marrow, and he wanted to curl into a fetal position, but his body refused to cooperate. Somewhere a tiny voice prayed for death.

Cassie spoke again, her voice quieter. “Symone. Do you remember anything unusual before he started to burn? I wonder if those other Trackers shot him full of something slow acting and—”

“No, Cassie.” Symone’s voice was quiet but steady, and Garrett could feel her gaze on him. He held on to the memory of holding her in his arms as it felt like his legs were going to fall off. “I did this to him.”

No. Garrett didn’t want her being a martyr. He didn’t know what Cassie would do to her. And instead of being able to help her, he was seized up like someone had shot his body full of electric volts, poured gasoline on them, and lit him up. “N-n-not her fault.”

“Shut up, Garrett. I’m a big girl.” She leveled a look on Cassie. “I did this to him.”

The room went silent. The doctor and two of the younger-looking boys looked away from everything. But the blond soldier—what was his name again? Jansen. Yeah, that was it. He turned furious eyes on Symone. “You fucking slept with him? Just because you could touch him and he didn’t turn into a kebab didn’t mean you should open your damn legs.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes. If he could just steady himself and make his fists work without pain, he was going to teach that shithead some manners. The big brute hand his hands square on Symone, and she had her head tipped up glaring at him.