Wanted Molotov Cocktail (2 page)

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Authors: Marteeka Karland

BOOK: Wanted Molotov Cocktail
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Onyx absolutely loved it, but she wanted more. She wanted Hawk uncontrolled, uncaring of anything but sating himself with her in a frenzy of lust.

Rough hands squeezed her breasts through her vest. A dominant male body pressed insistently against hers. He seemed to mold her so he fit perfectly.

But he did no more. Didn’t try to remove her clothing. Didn’t remove his.

Nothing. Much as she wanted to see if he’d actually make a move, that wasn’t how she rolled. Either he wanted her enough to take her or he didn’t. There was no making up his mind or taking it slow.

Onyx pulled a knife from the side of her leather pants and shoved the point just under Hawk’s chin. “Let me go.” She said it as mildly as she could, careful not to let disappointment show. Hawk had it in him to dominate the hell out of her. She just needed to push him further. He wanted to let loose -- she knew it in her very soul, could see it in the ice blue of his eyes. He just hadn’t tumbled over that edge yet.

But he would. Onyx would see to it.

For a heartbeat, they stood looking at each other, neither giving an inch. Hawk looked fiercer than she’d seen him even in the height of battle. Onyx almost smiled.

That was where she wanted him. Then he backed away without a word. His eyes never left hers, and he didn’t acknowledge the knife she held on him. He seemed about to say something, but an alarm sounded insistently and he actually growled, clenching his fists as he stalked the few steps to the pilot’s console.

“We’re there. Nova Station.” His voice was husky as he growled the words. He kept his back to her so Onyx couldn’t see his face, but she’d bet he was mad as hell.

Good. Let him stew. Unless she’d greatly underestimated him, it would make him that much more aggressive when the time came.

“Are you sure he’s there?” Onyx hated small talk, especially when she’d rather be engaged in other activities.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, the look scathing. He probably would have intimidated anyone else, but Onyx had to suppress a smile. This man was so hers.

“Do you honestly think I’d have come all this way, suffered every hour of this trip with a woman who grates on my last nerve, if I weren’t sure Storm was here?” She grinned at him. “If you’d left me behind, you’d have even less of a chance of getting Storm out than you do now. You need me and you know it.” He turned away from her, scowling. “They’re locked on to us. Bringing us in.

Your job will be to make sure we’re free of their tractor beam when I get back to the ship with Storm.”

“Like hell!”

“Don’t argue with me, Onyx,” he snapped. “I’ve got enough to keep track of without wondering if you’re going to pull a knife on me again or not.”

“You deserved it, and I’m not apologizing for it.” Hawk bared his teeth at her in a savage snarl as he turned his back on her. Oh, this was too good. He was definitely close to where she wanted him.

“You’re a distraction I don’t need,” he muttered. “Stay on the ship and be ready to go. It’ll be up to you to get us out of here.”

“Don’t patronize me. You need someone to have your back. There’s every possibility you’re walking into a trap. Whether or not Storm talked, the Consolidation knows the four of you work as a team. They’ll be counting on a rescue attempt, and as much trouble as Yuri has caused them, they’ve got to be itching to have all four of you as prisoners.”

He turned to face her, advancing. There was something wild in his eyes now.

Something that hadn’t been there before. Just like she knew she would, Onyx creamed her panties. This was Hawk unleashed. This was the man she wanted in her bed, taking her, claiming her. In that moment, Hawk was exactly the man he had been born to be, not the man he fooled others into believing he was. Hawk was a killer. Pure and simple.

A born dominant in every sense of the word.

The moment he was within arm’s reach of her, his hand shot out and wrapped around her throat, easily spanning the slender column. Onyx wasn’t a shrinking violet.

She was tall and strong and a force to be reckoned with in her own right. But when Hawk chose to bring the force of his strength and size to bear on her, she felt like a delicate flower next to him.

“You. Will. Do. As. I. Tell. You.” He bit each word out through clenched teeth, his grip on her throat tightening ever so slightly. He didn’t cut off her air, but there was no doubt in either of them he could have if he chose.

For several heartbeats, they both held eye contact, neither budging. Onyx wasn’t about to give in just because he flexed his muscles. She was dead serious about him walking into a trap.

Hawk swore viciously, never letting go of her neck. With his free hand he dug into a cabinet where he’d stowed several items before leaving. Onyx didn’t see what he retrieved, but a second later cool metal snapped around her wrist and stuck solidly to the bulkhead.

“What the fuck?” She tugged and wrenched with all her strength but couldn’t get out of the cuffs or budge them from the wall.

“They will release in exactly thirty minutes. That should give me time to get close to Storm. I expect you to have this ship free of the tractor beam and unclamped from the docking moor, ready for departure when we get back.” Turning his back on her, Hawk opened the hatch and left the small vessel. Onyx let out a furious screech, but when the hatch closed, a slow smile spread across her face and she actually laughed.

Chapter Three

She’d probably kill him. Hawk knew it the second he heard that unladylike squawk when he shut Onyx up safely in the ship. Restraining her was the only way he knew he could keep her safe. It was underhanded and not at all smooth and cavalier like Yuri or Storm would have been with a woman, but it was all he was capable of. He couldn’t very well explain how he felt. Hell, he didn’t even know himself. There was no way he was letting her go with him on this when he was certainly walking into a fight.

She was correct that there would likely be a trap, and he wasn’t willing to risk her. She was prickly and way too fem domme for her own good, but Hawk still cared for her. In a sick, twisted, perverted kind of way. He wanted to fuck her six ways from Saturn and back again, but he knew that would never happen. Instead, he’d keep her as safe as he could. If he didn’t get his ass back to the ship pretty soon after those cuffs released her, he knew she’d come looking for him.

This wasn’t like the last time they broke into the inner, secret workings of a space station. There was no one to meet for directions. He had to find his own way, and that meant relying on old blueprints and hoping the Consolidation kept to their policy of uniformity. With a little luck, maybe he could get in, grab Storm and get out without much of a fuss.

Making his way down a deserted corridor, Hawk thanked the Heavens he had timed his arrival with the station’s night cycle. Few people were up and about, and security was just a little bit lax.

At the end of the corridor, there was a vent. According to the blueprint, it should lead deeper into the heart of the station. If he were right, the maze of ducts should lead him to his destination.

It was a tight fit. If he ran into resistance, there was no way he was getting out the way he came in. He’d have to use a more maneuverable path, and that meant fighting his way out. Not that he was opposed to it -- hell, he’d prefer it. But he couldn’t very well leave Onyx shackled in his ship with no way to defend herself. He had to at least be extra careful not to get caught until the timer released her cuffs.

Crawling on his elbows, Hawk was sweating by the time he made the third turn.

Sure enough, the duct led to the prisons. Vague moans and cries of pain echoed all around him until he couldn’t tell which way to go. Twice, he circled back to the main station and had to scoot back to the last bend and take a different route. Being a space marine meant he’d endured all kinds of environments, and claustrophobia had never been a problem. But by the time he found the guard station for the prison, he couldn’t have given two shits if he raised all kinds of alarms. He was getting out of the damned vents. Now.

Hawk waited until he spotted both guards and was certain there wasn’t a third before making his move. Getting as close to the vent as possible, Hawk shoved with all his might. The vent exploded from the wall, and Hawk dove out head first, tucking into a ball and rolling as he hit the floor.

He was on his feet in one smooth motion, gun in one hand, knife in the other.

The guard closest to the console and the alarm took a round in the chest, then the throat.

Blood splattered, and the man clutched his gored throat instinctively, dying before he hit the ground. The other man had time to draw his weapon, but little else. Hawk’s enhanced muscles and reflexes held him in good stead, and he buried the knife to the hilt in the guard’s ear.

Both guards lay slumped on the floor, blood pooling around them. Hawk glanced at his watch. If protocol hadn’t changed, the night surveillance cameras would make a ten-second sweep of the area in exactly fifteen minutes. He had that long to find Storm and get the hell out before everything crashed down around him.

Glancing at a tablet lying on the console at the first guard’s station, he found Storm’s name, ID number and cell block. The guard tower was situated above the prison units, accessible by a single service stair. If he was found out, that narrow stair was his only way out of the prison area. He was risking being trapped with Storm by going down, but he had little choice. Hawk retrieved his knife and grabbed the guard’s pistol and his swipe key as he descended into the prison area.

The lights were dim, glowing softly only every few hundred feet. Surgically enhanced vision wasn’t something Hawk had opted for, fearing the loss of his sight.

More than once, he’d wished he hadn’t been so squeamish.

Precious seconds ticked by. He was in the right area but couldn’t find the cell.

They were numbered in code so that each cell number appeared to be random. Without the key to translate the cell numbers, he had to check every unit until he found the right one.

Three minutes later, he found Storm. A swipe of the card and the door slid open.

Storm sat with his back to the wall, his hands on his knees. His hair was unkempt and shaggy. His face had several days’ growth of beard, and the place stank of excrement.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” Hawk said, senses alert to everything around them, searching for the merest hint he’d been discovered.

“Yeah, and you’re still as beautiful as ever.” Storm was probably the only person alive who could have said that and gotten away with it, but Hawk couldn’t have cared less. Storm was alive. Something tight in his chest loosened just a little, and he managed a small smile.

“Let’s get the hell outta here so you can take a bath. You stink.” Storm was on his feet and moving out of the cell. He was much thinner but didn’t appear to have suffered any lasting effects. On his way out of the cell, Storm snagged the swipe card as he passed Hawk and headed deeper into the cell block.

Confused, Hawk followed, figuring his friend had a good reason for doing whatever he was doing.

“Do we have time for this?” Hawk whispered softly to Storm, knowing the other man’s enhanced hearing would pick up the sound.

“We’re making time.”

Hawk recognized Storm’s tone and knew there was no arguing with his friend.

Better to just follow him and be done with it rather than take the time for an argument Hawk had no hope of winning.

It didn’t take long for Storm to find the right cell. At first, Hawk thought the inside was empty, but then he noticed a slight movement in the far corner. He thought it was a small dog at first. All he could truly make out was a mass of dark brown hair.

Then the mass moved, rising a little so he saw large eyes on a too-small face.

“Christ!” Storm’s curse was soft, but still audible and so full of caged fury even Hawk glanced at him. His face was an expressionless mask, but his eyes blazed with leashed rage. Storm scooped up the small bundle, and Hawk realized it was a woman.

Well, more like a girl. Hawk doubted she was out of her teens. She was dressed in rags that did nothing to conceal her body, and she was covered in blood and filth.

Hawk kept careful watch, keeping all his enhanced senses on the alert.

Something didn’t feel right. They had exactly seven minutes before the camera sweep, but something had the fine hairs on the back of Hawk’s neck prickling. He watched as Storm used gentle fingers to push the girl’s hair away from her face, murmuring softly to her.

“We need to go, Storm. Now.” Hawk knew it was all going to hell. He could feel it in his bones. They still had to make it up the stairs to the guard tower or they were stuck.

Storm draped the girl over his shoulder, his arm securing her legs. She looked like dead weight to Hawk. If they had to fight their way out -- and Hawk was growing more and more sure they would with every passing second -- there was no way she could go with them under her own power. He started to question Storm, but one look at the other man’s eyes and Hawk swallowed his protest. Hell, he couldn’t leave the girl behind any more than Storm could. She obviously wouldn’t last much longer in this hellhole.

Hawk tossed the guard’s gun to Storm, and both men sprinted back down the cell block to the stairs. As they approached, Hawk heard battle sounds, complete with a Valkyrie’s battle cry.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” It could only be Onyx. The infuriating woman had come after him and was holding off the security teams so they could escape. Part of him was grateful for her help, but another, more primitive part was furious. And scared out of his mind. Hawk had to hold the beast inside him at bay, keep a clear head, or they were all dead.

Chapter Four

Hawk sprinted ahead in a semi-crouch, gun at the ready, taking the stairs three at a time. The seconds it took to ascend the long stairway seemed an eternity. Gunfire zinged heavy in the air from lasers as well as traditional firearms. Smoke from singed bulkheads drifted into the small passage as Hawk approached the guards’ station.

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