Unleashing the Storm (3 page)

It
was time to get his ass down to the barn. He’d wire the room for sound and
video later, because his plan had already taken form.

He
went down the stairs, swearing under his breath the entire time. He hit the
barn from the back entrance, taking only a second to create a distraction that
would ensure Derek leaving him and Kira alone for a few minutes at least.

He
heard Kira’s laugh, saw Derek helping her balance—yeah, right—on the ladder
that led up to the loft. He took a long look at her legs, the casual way Derek
had his hand on her hip, and he knew he wasn’t getting out of there before
giving that guy a good old-fashioned piece of his fist before he killed him.
Literally.

All’s
fair in love, war and the world of rare operatives.

“I’ve
got you,” Derek was saying, his voice a combination of big city, old money—too
well cultured to be a farmhand, and Ender wondered why Kira wouldn’t have
picked up on that.

Kira
climbed down from the ladder and Derek kept his goddamned hand on her hip. That
is, until she spotted Ender and moved away from Derek’s touch. Derek turned and
frowned at him for the briefest second before putting on a fake
glad-you’re-here-man smile.

“Derek,
this is—”

“Tom,”
Ender said, at the same time Derek said, “Tommy,” and continued smiling. It
didn’t reach his eyes, and from what Ender remembered, it never had.

Kira
looked back and forth between them, and Ender noticed, with no small
satisfaction, that her gaze settled on his when she spoke. “You two know each
other?”

“Farming
community’s not that big,” Derek said, and Ender grudgingly gave him points for
the nice catch. Interesting that he chose to admit that they knew each other at
all. It was a way Ender would’ve preferred not to go. But he’d run with it.

Another
operative in the mix always made things more interesting.

“Good
to see you again,” he said to Derek before turning his full attention to Kira.
He was finding it hard to think straight or concentrate on anything but her,
like she was throwing scent around or something. From the way Derek looked at
her, he could tell the guy was feeling it too. “Are you going to get me up to
speed?”

“I
figured Derek could show you around this evening,” she said, and
fuck, no,
that was not going to happen. Not when, according to the urgent file the
psychic had put together, Kira’s spring mating ritual was about to begin and
there was one too many choices of mates.

“Cool.
But first, want me to take care of the horses that broke loose? Unless they’re
supposed to be wandering,” Ender said.

“I
thought you tied them well?” Kira asked Derek.

“Shit.
I did,” Derek muttered.

“Well,
you need to get them back. And then you might as well finish repairing the
fence on the west side of the compound before it gets dark,” she said. “Tommy
can finish helping me around here.”

Ender
bit back a smile, because Derek would be gone most of the evening and there was
nothing he could do to protest without arousing suspicion. Especially when Kira
had already turned her attention firmly to Ender, giving off a powerful vibe
that made his balls tingle.

Oh,
yeah, he was going to help Kira. Right out of her damned shorts.

“Sorry
about that. I’ve got it covered, boss,” Derek said. He walked past Ender, gave
him a nod that meant
I’ll kill you the first chance I get,
and Ender
watched him get into a truck and drive off in search of the errant horses.

“Guess
it’s just you and me,” he said, and Kira smiled at him in a way she hadn’t at
Derek. He wasn’t sure why that mattered so much, but it did.

KIRA
HAD WATCHED DEREK saunter out of the barn, taking his fierce sensuality with
him. Still, he was nothing compared to Tom, whose seductive, primal pull
electrified her, spun her off balance and left her grabbing blindly at the air
for a handhold.

She’d
never experienced anything like it, and she trembled with the massive exertion
of restraint she had in place right now.

“You
certainly settled in fast,” Kira said with a casualness she didn’t feel. She
propped one foot on a bale of hay to tie the loosened laces of her bright pink
hiking boot. “Quite the eager beaver.”

Tom
smiled, likely the first genuine smile she’d seen since they’d met. He also
stared at her legs and butt for the hundredth time. Thankfully, men were
predictable.

She
got the impression, though, that Tom had a few curveballs up his sleeve, and
she’d be an idiot to underestimate him. Then again, she’d gotten that same
impression about Derek. Both men exuded confidence, power and raw sexual
energy, and both shared a quality she rarely encountered in humans: a subtle,
almost gamey scent she could describe only as danger. She’d bet her last
dollar—which she’d be down to soon—that they’d both spent some time in the
military.

Or
prison.

She
cocked her head and studied Tom studying her. “Ever been in jail?”

“Nope.”
He reached down to pet Morris, one of the barn cats, who had been rubbing on
his denim-clad leg. “Why?”

“Just
wondering.” She watched him a moment longer, wishing his big hand was stroking
her instead of the cat. Heat worked its way through her veins at the thought,
and before she pounced on him in a lust-induced fit, she glanced up at the
loft.

“I
need to store this riding gear. Would you mind handing it to me and keeping the
ladder steady?”

“Like
Derek was doing?” he asked, his steely blue eyes glittering in the sunlight
that streamed in through the dirty windows.

She
smiled. She’d known exactly what Derek had been doing, and she hadn’t minded.
She’d long ago stopped trying to fight the animal instinct that came over her
at this time of year, the frenzied desire to mate often and urgently.

Never
had any single man been capable of satisfying her during what she thought of as
her
heat cycle,
and now it seemed that with two virile men within reach,
her prayers had been answered.

“Yes,”
she said, “like Derek.”

She
grabbed a few frayed nylon halters and started up the ladder, which desperately
needed to be replaced. When she’d almost reached the top, she tossed the gear
onto a pile she’d started there.

“Okay,
I’m ready for more.” She turned, and the ladder wobbled.

Tom
swore and grabbed the ladder, his big body tensed, the muscles in his arms
flexing. “Let me do this.”

“You’re
too heavy.”

“If I
had a dime for every time a woman said that to me…”

She
laughed, because she’d love to feel his weight on top of her and decide for
herself whether or not he was too heavy. “Just hand me the bridles, smart-ass.”

Grinning,
he did, then braced the ladder as she placed them in an old wooden chest. “So,
uh, do you want the whips and riding crops?”

She
wrinkled her nose. “Yes. I’m going to lock those things up here where no one
will find them.”

“You
don’t use them?”

“Never.
Horses will cooperate without being beaten.”

He
reached for a crop, a thick-handled stick with a leather paddle at one end, and
slapped it in his palm. “They are good for…other things.” His voice was deep
and dark and so sexy she wanted to melt into a warm puddle and let him lap her
up.

“Like
what?” she asked, aware that she was stirring up a hornet’s nest, and she could
only hope he’d sting her.

One
tawny eyebrow arched, and a wicked smile turned up his sensual mouth. Bracing
the ladder with one hand, he stretched upward with the crop until the soft
strip of leather touched her skin just above her boot. A shock of desire shot
straight from her ankle to her crotch, where moisture began to pool as he
slowly traced circles higher and higher on the inside of her leg.

His
gaze caressed her leg along with the riding crop, and then his eyes caught
hers, darkened to a stormy blue as he pushed the stick up to stroke and tease
the leg opening of her denim shorts.

“This
is wrong,” she said, her voice sounding a little winded to her ears.

The
flap of leather slipped beneath the material, and pleasant tingles dispersed
over her suddenly inflamed flesh. “Why’s that?”

She
bit her lip when the tip of the crop tickled the crease of her sex. “Because
you aren’t using it right.”

That
wicked smile of his became even more so, sending a hot rush of blood surging
through her body. He pulled the stick from her shorts and slapped her lightly
on the back of her bare thighs. She nearly groaned.

“Better?”
he asked.

Better?
She had no idea how to answer that, because her need had deepened, focused so
her world had become her body and that of the man standing at the base of the
ladder.

“Again.
Harder.”

The
leather cracked across her skin. The sting of pleasure shot straight to her
sex.

“Better?”
Tom repeated, his voice husky.

Her
restraint dimmed, flickered, then finally snuffed out.

Impulsively,
she shimmied down the ladder to stand facing him on the bottom rung, which put
them eye to eye. Crop in hand, he watched her with half-lidded, inquisitive
eyes. She could feel his heat, could smell his arousal, which was obvious in
the bulge in his jeans.

“Better,”
she murmured, “would involve a lot fewer clothes.”

Unconcealed
hunger burned in his gaze, and she got the feeling that under any other
circumstance he wouldn’t hold back, but in the middle of the day in a barn
where anyone could walk in—not to mention the fact that she was his boss he’d
met barely two hours before—he was conflicted.

Conflict
was not something with which she had an issue. Not during this time of year
when she’d be perfectly fine having sex on a football field during halftime.

“You saying
you want to drop in the hay and go at it right here?”

“Dropping
into the hay would take too long.”

She
didn’t have time to blink before he surged against her, pressing her back
against the ladder rungs. His mouth came down on her throat, and she threw her
head back, let his teeth rake her skin. One of his hands tangled in her hair,
holding her for his demanding lips, and the other, the one clutching the crop,
dropped to her ass as he pulled her mound against the hard ridge of his cock.

A low
groan rumbled in his chest when she raised one leg to hook the back of his
thigh with her calf, putting her aching sex in contact with the seam of his
jeans. His fingers drove into her shorts’ leg opening, the callused pads
skimming her wet folds.

Desire
quickened her blood, and her heart pumped so hard it hummed in her ears. God,
even his light touches were killing her. She couldn’t imagine how he’d feel
inside her, his thick length stroking swollen, stretched flesh and sensitive
nerve endings.

Grasping
his arms, she dragged him as close as she could, until she could feel his
nipples harden and rub against her chest through layers of clothing. She wanted
to rip his shirt off with her teeth and take the hard nubs between her lips to
taste them. She wanted to taste all of him, but only after she found relief for
the fever that had made her skin stretch tight, her bones ache, her head cloud.

Arching
her hips, she rocked her sex into him, creating a rhythm that had them both
sweating and panting, burning up from the friction. He kissed a fiery path up
from the hollow of her neck to her ear as she slipped her hand under his
T-shirt to explore the muscles of his back, which jumped under her fingertips.

Splintered
wood bit into her spine, but she didn’t care. She needed Tom inside her. Needed
him to take her over and over until neither of them could see straight, until
she felt normal again, if only for a few hours.

She
bit his earlobe hard enough to make him suck air through clenched teeth, and
then she told him exactly what she wanted—and how often.

Groaning,
his breathing ragged, he reached between their bodies and cupped her breast,
flicked his thumb over the sensitive nipple.

“You’re
the boss, ma’am,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to rejoice or be
afraid, because she suddenly knew that this man might be the one she’d been
searching for all her life.

The
one who could satisfy her when no one else could.

Christ,
Ender was going to take her right against the ladder, in daylight and in the
middle of the open barn, and there was no use worrying anymore about that. He
wasn’t letting this opportunity slip through his fingers.

Focus,
man. Focus.
“You always this
forward?” he asked, watched her breathing quicken as she ground against him.

“Yes.
Do you have a problem with it?”

“I
have no problem sleeping with you. I just want to make sure I’m not putting my
job in jeopardy.”