Unique Ink (Shadow Assassins Book 5) (15 page)

BOOK: Unique Ink (Shadow Assassins Book 5)
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“Your demeanor changes whenever we’re in the hallways. You tense up and your speech becomes more formal.”

“Really?”

“But this room isn’t monitored. You’re relaxed here, more yourself.”

He let the smile for when the impulse came again. “After a few short days, you know me well enough to spot the real me?”

“Nothing about these days has been short.” She moved away from the door but didn’t return to the sitting area. It was as if she wasn’t sure where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do. “I feel like I’ve been locked up for months, not days, and you’ve been assessing me the entire time.”

“I’m sorry about that. It’s never fun to be under the microscope.” Her agitation was palpable. She was like a cat brushing against his legs, begging to be petted, reassured. Who was he trying to fool? Her need for comfort was real, but he’d been fighting the urge to touch her since the first moment he saw her in a helpless heap on the floor of her shop.

“It’s your job.” She heaved a weary sigh and strolled toward the workstation, which also took her closer to his bed. He doubted that the maneuver was intentional, but his body hardened all the same. “I know your interest isn’t personal.”

“Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Her gaze shot to his and lingered for a long, tense moment. She nervously licked her lips then looked away. “I don’t think I can deal with the holding cell right now. Would you please ask Morgan to assign me my own room?”

“I know what she’ll say.” She dragged her gaze back to his and arched her brow. “It’s the holding cell or here. I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight.”

“She can’t lock me inside a room with an actual bed?”

“Security protocols don’t work that way. Living quarters are tuned to the occupant. The doors lock automatically, but the occupant needs to be able to come and go as they please.” It wasn’t an outright lie, more like an exaggeration. Security routines would have to be reprogrammed, but Morgan could make it happen. The details didn’t matter. Roxie needed to trust him and they didn’t have time to build that trust through more conventional means.

Roxie looked at the bed then her anxious gaze swept the room. “You don’t even have a couch. Am I supposed to curl up in one of the chairs?”

“No. You’re supposed to curl up in my arms and trust that I won’t do more than protect you. We’ll be posing as lovers. You need to stop flinching away from my touch.”

“I don’t flinch away from your touch.”

He closed the distance between them in less than a second and framed her face with his hands. She immediately drew back so he let her go, despite the very real urge to tighten his grip. “You do.”

“I don’t mean to.” She brought her hands together in front of her, creating an obstacle between them.

“I know, but that doesn’t change your instinctive reaction.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking lost and alone. “And you think sleeping with you will change instincts developed over decades?”

“The more I touch you, the more comfortable you’ll become with being touched.” He stepped closer, not quite recapturing the ground he’d lost. “As long as you enjoy the way I touch you.”

Her lips trembled as she asked, “Did Morgan tell you to seduce me?”

He lightly grasped one of her wrists, easing her arm down. “I don’t think any power on Earth could keep me from seducing you. You fascinate me. And you’re not indifferent. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

“You’re an attractive man. Of course, I’ve looked at you. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to surrender.” Despite her objection, she lowered her other arm, though she kept her hands at her sides.

He didn’t rush her, just let the tension build. As long as she didn’t push him away, he could be as patient as she needed him to be. “This isn’t a battle, darlin’. We’re not at war.”

“Well, it isn’t a romance either. I’m your assignment.”

She was already more than that. He’d accepted that this connection had nothing to do with his assignment, but Roxie wasn’t ready to hear it. “Then think of it as a negotiation. I’ll never take more than I’m offered, but you can’t blame me for needing to ask.” He placed his hand on her waist and waited for her to accept or reject the featherlight touch.

Again, she didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to have sex tonight. My emotions are too…tangled.”

He slid his hand to the small of her back and slowly drew her toward him. “I never said anything about having sex. I know you’re confused and I would never take advantage of you like that.”

“Then what are you proposing?”

“I just want to touch you, kiss you, comfort you. The rest can wait until you’re ready for more.”

 

Roxie chuckled, her hardened nipples inadvertently teasing his chest. Damn his confidence. She usually hated arrogant men. So why was Elias the exception? He definitely qualified as arrogant, and still she was drawn to him. “You’re presuming I’ll eventually be ready to have sex with you.”

Rather than argue with her, he pulled her firmly against his chest then grasped the back of her neck with his other hand. He covered her mouth with his and staked his claim with overt purpose. She gasped and tensed, her hands clutching his upper arms.

She was just about to push him away and demand that he return her to the holding cell when he eased back and let her breathe. He didn’t release her entirely though. His lips caressed hers, sliding and pressing as his tongue teased. Gradually she relaxed into his embrace and tilted her head to a better angle. His long fingers splayed against the back of her head, holding her still while his tongue sank deeper. He pushed his taste into her mouth as their breaths mingled. She felt dizzy, almost drunk with the sudden rush of desire.

“Share my bed.” He whispered the words against her parted lips then kissed her deeply again.

“I don’t want—”

He cut her off with another kiss. “I know and we won’t. I just want to touch you, feel you arch against me and gasp my name.”

“Gasp your name while you’re doing what exactly?” She turned her head when he tried to kiss her again. “This is a negotiation, remember. I want the terms spelled out.”

With a sexy chuckle, he nipped the side of her neck. Hot tingles erupted deep in her body and she squirmed against him. “I agree not to pressure you for sex tonight if you’ll allow me to touch your naked body in any way I want.”

“With your hands?” she persisted.

He looked up and grinned. “I’m good with my hands, but I’m even better with my mouth.”

She groaned at the thought then shivered. “Which is why your mouth will not wander below my waist.”

He closed his eyes for a moment then growled. “Ah, honey, you’re heartless.”

“No, heartless would be pretending I don’t want this at all.”

His thick lashes lifted and his hazel eyes stared into hers. “When we do this for real—and we will—you’ll be as desperate for me as I am for you.”

Her body was there already, but he was right. Her mind was filled with uncertainly and her emotions were raw. If they made love tonight, she’d never be sure if she’d wanted him or just wanted an escape from the worst day of her life.

He stepped back and undressed with frantic speed as she fiddled with the drawstring on her pants. He tugged off his boots and socks then peeled his shirt off over his head, leaving him bare to the waist. She watched him as she kicked her sandals aside, captivated by the stark symmetry of his amazing body. Even through his clothes it had been obvious he was in good shape, but her imagination hadn’t done him justice. Every muscle was highly defined, sculpted to human perfection.

“Do you need some help?” He’d been about to unfasten his pants when he asked the question.

She shook her head. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

He chuckled and stripped away his pants, leaving only tan boxer-briefs. He flexed his arms and struck a body builder pose. She laughed then looked away. “Your turn,” he urged.

She wasn’t ashamed of her body, exactly. She’d just never been with someone who looked like Elias. Her legs were long, her hips narrow, and her breasts were small. Did he like skinny women or did he prefer someone shaped like Morgan? Most men liked curves on a woman. Maybe she should—

His warm fingers brushed the side of her face, drawing her gaze back to his. “I want to see your tattoos.”

The heat in his gaze combined with his encouraging smile and her apprehension melted. She pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside. He had the drawstring untied and her pants halfway to her knees before she disentangled her arms from the sleeves. She wasn’t wearing anything under the borrowed uniform even though her original clothing had been returned to her freshly laundered and neatly folded.

“Well, this is a naughty surprise.” His gaze dropped as he cupped one of her breasts.

“I wanted to keep my clothes clean for when I’m released.”

“It wasn’t a criticism. I think clothes as a whole are overrated.” He pulled her lower body against his as he bent to her breasts, forcing her to arch her back. His lips fastened on to one nipple and she gasped as he drew her deeply into his mouth.

This was happening too fast and she wanted too much. Desire made her vulnerable. “This is a bad idea.” He switched to the other side, ignoring her protest.

And then he was touching her. His hands slid over her body without rhyme or reason. Well, he had an obvious reason, driving her insane, but there was no pattern, no predicting where he’d touch her next. His lips trailed after his hands until she stood trembling in front of him.

“Wow,” he murmured as his lips drifted over her shoulder and onto her back. He stood beside her now, one arm wrapped around her waist in front while the other moved freely over her back, hips and butt. “Did the same person do all of these?”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

“This is obviously the same artist.” He touched the intricate floral piece that ran down the right side of her back and then spiraled around her right thigh. “It’s amazing.”

His fingers traced the female warrior dominating the left side of her back. She was one of Roxie’s favorites, sexy yet fierce. “Is this how you see yourself?”

She looked back at him then shook her head. “She’s not me. She’s my guardian spirit, someone to watch my back.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple and just held her for a second. “You’ve never had that before, have you? I forget how lucky I am to be part of a team.”

The observation cut deeply. He was right. She’d been alone her entire life, struggling through each crisis, each challenge, with no one to count on, no one to look to for support. “It made me strong.”

He turned her toward him, his gaze searching her. “It made you suspicious.”

“It kept me alive.”

“It makes me sad.” He kissed her slowly, tenderly, stirring emotions she wasn’t ready to feel.

She responded to the gentleness for only a moment before fear forced her to react. Reaching between their bodies, she squeezed his cock, wanting passion to burn away the pain. He felt thick and long beneath her palm, and her groan was as loud as his. “Aren’t you going to get naked?”

“Not unless you change the rules.” He guided her hand to his hip. “And none of that. You can’t touch me below the waist unless you’re ready to renegotiate our deal.”

“But that’s not fair. You get to touch me anywhere you want.”

He swept her up in his arms with a predatory grin. “I never said it would be fair, just mutually agreed upon.” He placed her in the middle of his bed then stretched out on his side. “Tell me about the phoenix. It’s really well done.”

He meant the tattoo on her left shoulder. “I’ve had her for a long time. She’s one of the only early ones I don’t regret.”

“You don’t like all of your tattoos? Then why did you get them?” He slipped his arm beneath her neck and rested his hand on her chest. His fingers nestled between her breasts.

“Tastes change and I learned what a really good tattoo looks like. How long have you had yours?” She reached up and traced the intricate black and gray pattern banding his upper arm. “It’s really different, geometric, yet whimsical. Whoever did it was good.”

“That’s high praise coming from you.”

Her gaze returned to his and they just stared at each other for a moment. Then she whispered, “I’m scared.”

He lifted his hand from between her breasts. “About this?”

“No.” She guided his hand to her breast and held it there. “I need this. I’m scared about tomorrow.”

“Fear isn’t always a bad thing. We just have to work with it rather than letting it control us.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been at this a lot longer than I have.”

“Which is why I won’t leave your side. Even if I have to handcuff myself to you, I won’t let you face this alone.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. There was a very real chance one of the Shadow Assassins would teleport her to Sevrin’s new facility and Elias would be left behind. “I know I’m not just bait. Morgan wants them to take me. Does she have a way to track me once they do?”

He looked away, clearly tormented by the possibilities. “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about this now. We have a few precious hours before reality intrudes again. Can’t we just focus on each other?” His hand shifted to the underside of her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple.

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