Chapter Twelve
He waited until night fell, until the facility was locked down and silence reigned. The folks in charge had tried to ramp up security, but their efforts were pretty much useless. Sawyer still easily opened the lock of his cell, and he crept down the hallway, going straight for his target. He didn’t make a sound, and he stayed in the shadows. He knew the placement of every security camera, and he knew exactly how to avoid being seen by those cameras. He also had the guards’ schedule memorized. But even if he hadn’t, Sawyer would have heard the guards approaching from a mile away.
He made his way to the staff quarters—specifically, to her room. Sawyer followed Elizabeth’s scent straight to her door. When he reached for the knob, he wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Not after last night’s activities. Dr. Cecelia Gregory’s room was right next door, so he made sure to not even let a whisper of sound escape as he picked Elizabeth’s lock.
Then he was inside. The room was pitch black, but he could see well—very well—in the dark. Another Lazarus bonus. He locked the door behind him, and he headed for the bed. Elizabeth was in that bed, turned on her side away from him. She was beneath the covers, her shoulders hunched a bit. He didn’t want to scare her with his approach, but it wasn’t like he’d be able to wake her up gently.
Before he left on the morning’s mission, they needed to clear the air. And after the mission…
Everything will explode.
He bent over her, his hand reaching out to curl around her shoulder, but before he could touch her skin, Elizabeth erupted. She lunged up, and he saw the gleam of a knife’s blade.
She wasn’t asleep. She knew I was in her room. She was waiting for her chance to attack. The knife was going straight for his throat.
Impressive.
But not quite good enough. He tore the blade from her hand and threw it right at the wall. It sank in deep even as he grabbed her hands, yanking them above her head and pinning them to the pillows. “Now, doc, is that really a polite way to greet a visitor?”
She’d been twisting and struggling for her freedom, but at his words, she went statue still.
Sawyer didn’t make the mistake of letting her go. She was far too much of an unknown for him. “How about you promise not to attack me again? And we’ll see if we can have a nice, civilized talk.”
“Talk?” Her voice was husky and sexy and it made his dick twitch far too eagerly. “Is that why you broke into my room? To talk?”
One of the reasons, yes. He’d also come in because he’d needed to see her. No, it went far past need. More like he’d been obsessed with seeing her. The hours had ticked away after Landon had taken her from the training area, and Sawyer hadn’t seen her again all fucking day. He’d had to go to her room. Had to find her. Touch her.
I’m touching her now.
“You kept secrets from me,” he accused.
She yanked against his hold, and he just tightened his grip on her wrists. His body covered hers, holding her easily in place, but the position also meant that he was between her legs. The bedcovers separated their bodies, yet he could still feel every inch of her beneath him. He was pretty sure she felt all of him, too, including the erection that had to be impossible to miss.
The doc turned him on—with a wild, dangerous hunger.
“You kept secrets, too,” she whispered back. Then she said, “Asshole. I trusted you.”
What? He had no clue what she was talking about. “I’m the one without the memories, so if I did something to piss you off, well, sorry, doc, but I don’t know what it was.”
“You just broke into my room! You’re holding me down!” Her voice started to rise. “That pisses me off, that—”
He kissed her. Sure, there were plenty of other ways that Sawyer could have gotten her to quiet down, but kissing her was the most pleasurable way. His lips took hers, and it was just like before. He tasted her, and desire exploded within him. She was sweet but rich, and her lips were soft as silk beneath his mouth. He licked her, then nipped that plump, lower lip. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she kissed him back. Kissed him with the same hunger.
They’d been lovers, no doubt about it. And he would bet his life the sex between them had been absolutely phenomenal. He wanted to take her, to feel the pleasure that he’d experienced in his dream. Would it be as good in reality? Even better?
Not fucking now.
Sawyer made himself pull back. Rather, he pulled back, but then he kissed her again. I missed her. The thought slipped through his mind, and it chilled him. If he’d missed her…
She mattered.
And that was about to make things very, very complicated.
With one hand, he secured her arms above her head. Sawyer locked his fingers around her delicate wrists. His legs stayed between hers, pushing her thighs wide and his body trapped her against the mattress.
“Stop this.” Her voice was thready, scared. She wanted him, there was no missing her physical response, but she was also scared to death of him. “Let me go.”
“I could have said you were in my cell last night. Could have let Landon and the guards find you with me. I saved your sweet ass.” He wanted that reminder. Wanted her to know he’d protected her. So she should stop fearing him.
“And I saved your ass,” she whispered right back. “I didn’t tell anyone that you could get out of your cell, even though I damn well think that one of your men broke into Cecelia’s room last night.”
Yeah, he thought so, too. Though every man had denied it.
“You made Lazarus.” The words broke from him. They were angry and rough and his muscles were rock-hard with fury. “You did this to me.”
He waited for her denial. Waited for her lies. Waited for—
“I’m sorry.”
Her pain?
Because pain was in her voice, he was sure of it. She trembled beneath him. Elizabeth didn’t fight. She just stared up at him in the darkness. He could see every detail of her perfect face. And her expression was filled with true sorrow.
“This isn’t what I wanted. I never meant…” She bit her lower lip, stopping the words.
“No, doc, you don’t stop now. You tell me every single thing that I want to know.” He was sick of being blind. Sick of being a test rat.
“Did you volunteer?” Elizabeth barely breathed the words.
“Volunteer? How the hell should I know? I remember nothing about my life before this place.” His hold was too hard on her wrists. He didn’t want to bruise her. He eased up and said, “No, that’s a lie.”
Beneath him, Elizabeth flinched.
“I remember you. Fucking you. Holding you between my body and some wooden door. You were wearing a black dress that was as soft as silk—but not as soft as your skin. I shoved that dress up—”
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
“And I put my hand on your sex. I had you coming for me. I remember you didn’t cry out, but I wanted to hear you. I wanted to hear you when you came because I love the sounds you make for me.” He leaned forward and kissed away her tear drop. His mouth lingered on her skin. “I remember that you were mine.”
“You died!”
His heart jolted in his chest.
“You said you’d always come back, but you died!” She struggled against him, twisting her body with a sudden fury. He didn’t let her go, though.
I won’t let go.
“You died on that mission! You were on the exam table and you were so still, and I was telling Landon that he couldn’t do it. Not to you. He couldn’t give you the Lazarus formula. The guard pulled me out. I was screaming and you were dead.”
The sound of her ragged breathing hurt him. But…
Dead? No, that had to be a lie. “I’m breathing. I’m talking to you right the hell now.” Anger churned inside of him, deepening with every word that he spoke. Why was she deceiving him? “Cut the bull and tell—”
“Lazarus brought you back. Why do you think this place is called the Lazarus facility? You were given the Lazarus formula—my formula, a formula that wasn’t ready—and just like the story in the bible, you came back from the dead. Lazarus rose.”
He shook his head. No, there was no way—
“The formula has side effects. That’s why you’re stronger, and your senses are sharper. That’s why you heal faster. It’s also why you don’t have memories of your past. Because we’re dealing with life and death, and the human body—God, there are still mysteries out there. I shouldn’t have been freaking Frankenstein, I shouldn’t have been—”
Frankenstein. The name had a flash appearing in his eyes.
He was suddenly in a bedroom. Elizabeth was there, standing in front of a large window. A glittering city waited beyond the glass, shrouded in the dark.
I think I’m Frankenstein.
For an instant, he could hear her words so clearly.
And then…
Then the image was gone. He was back in the bed with her, holding her tight. He tried to think. Tried to push through the fury that was crowding in his thoughts. “I’ve been here for months.”
She shivered beneath him.
“Where in the hell have you been, doc?”
“I’ve been looking for you.”
His eyes raked over her.
“Wyman Wright is the man in charge of this program. He’s Landon’s boss. When we were all back in D.C., he was my boss, too. But after they gave you the formula, there was…something happened, okay? You were taken away, and no one told me where you went. You were gone. Landon was gone. Wright was gone. I tried to find you, I swear I did, but it was as if you’d never been there at all.”
He let her go. Jumped from the bed. Sawyer had to put some space between them because the rage he felt was too strong. He could feel his control shredding.
I died? I fucking died?
The bedsheets rustled as Elizabeth climbed from the bed. His gaze shot to her as she stood, her body stiff and nervous, a few feet from him. She wore a faded, blue t-shirt. One with the world NAVY across the top. It was too big for her, falling to her thighs and covering her body. A man’s shirt.
His hands clenched into fists. “Who the fuck does that shirt belong to?”
His thoughts were twisting, becoming too chaotic. Too enraged.
My life…gone. Dead.
Elizabeth.
Lying…
Everyone had been lying to him. He was a prisoner. A weapon.
Attack. The sinister thought slipped through his mind as a wave of darkness seemed to overwhelm his thoughts. Destroy…
“It was your shirt,” Elizabeth said.
Sawyer shook his head, trying to clear the darkness as he took a step toward her.
“You were in the Navy. You were a SEAL. The shirt was one of the only things I had left that belonged to you.”
You fucking belong to me. The knowledge was burning inside of him. He found himself lunging toward her, grabbing her arms and yanking her toward him.
“Three months. I’ve been in this hell for three months.” He sounded like a man possessed. Maybe he was.
“I came to help you. Wright approached me recently. He wanted me back in the program, and I just came to help you.”
He wanted to believe her, but her heart was racing like mad. Fear had turned her pupils into pinpricks. Her breathing hitched. She was giving every single sign that she was deceiving him—or that she was utterly terrified of him.
The only time she didn’t seem afraid was when he kissed her. When he made her want him as desperately as he wanted her. Despite everything, he craved her. His dick was still fully erect and straining against the front of his jeans. Her soft body called to him.
Too long. I’ve been without her too long. Need her. Want her.
Take her.
He pulled her flush against him. Sawyer’s mouth crashed down on hers. Can’t be dead. Can’t be dead when she makes me feel this alive. His tongue drove into her mouth. She gave a little moan in the back of her throat, and it was a sound he remembered. His hands were sliding along her body, moving over her back, down to the curve of her sweet ass, and he remembered how she felt beneath him.
I remember how she feels. I remember what she likes.
If he remembered that…
Have to see if it’s true. Have to see.
He lifted her into his arms. She was kissing him back with a hungry desire that matched his own. A wildness that he hadn’t expected, but he wanted. He wanted her desire for him so badly.
Have to make her want me. Have to make her need me. Have to make her mine.
Something deep inside was driving him. Something dark and dangerous. He should let her go. He should get the hell out of there, but he couldn’t.
He dropped her onto the bed. She had a real bed, not a damn cot like he had in his space. Her legs sprawled in front of her. Long, perfect legs. He wanted her legs wrapped around him. But first…
Make sure it’s real. Make sure it’s all real.
He yanked back his savage hunger. His fingers trailed up her legs, moving slowly, sliding up her skin. His fingers were big and callused, and she was like silk.
Softer.
He shoved the too big t-shirt up, and his gaze fell on the slip of black lace she wore. “Panties, this time,” he growled. His fingers caught the lace. “In the way.” He yanked, and the lace tore beneath his hand.
Elizabeth gave a sharp gasp.
He should be using more care. He should be—
His fingers touched her sex. Stroked her, remembered her. The way she liked for him to rub her clit, the way—
Her head tipped back on the bed as she gave a soft moan.
“Careful, baby,” he warned. “No one can hear.”
Her head immediately whipped back up. She stared at him, the desire momentarily clearing from her gaze. Her eyes widened and—
He pushed her legs farther apart, then he pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. He worked her with his fingers, sliding them in and out, watching her face, watching her body, loving the way she tensed and jerked and bit her lip to hold back her cries. When he stroked her just this way, moving his fingers fast and deep…
Her hips surge up toward my touch. That gets her to climax faster.
The past and present merged in his mind. Memories of how to touch her.
When I slow down, when I glide my thumb over her clit…
Her hands fisted around the bed covers. “Sawyer!” A low hiss of demand.
I draw out her pleasure. I get her body bow tight. Then…
His fingers pressed harder. He stroked her faster.
She came. Her body stiffened, and she whispered his name.
His control shattered. He clawed at the top of his jeans. Yanked out his cock, and he had the head of his dick pressed to her sex. She was still trembling, still quivering with her release, and he had to take her. He drove into her, and it was like coming home. Her sex was wet and hot and so damn tight. Holding him so close, driving him insane.
Her legs locked around his hips. Sawyer stood poised over her, leaning over that bed, bracing his hands on the mattress as he drove in and out of her. Every move had her twisting against him, had her breath choking out. He could make her come again. She always came fast the first time, but she came harder the second. He could get her there.
He withdrew, then positioned his hips down in a hard thrust, one that would take his cock right over her sensitive core. Her hands locked around him, her nails raked over his back. He still wore his damn shirt—and she still had on the Navy t-shirt. He wanted them both completely naked. Wanted her skin to skin.
But…
No time.
His climax was bearing down on him. He was about to erupt, and she had to find her pleasure first. He always made her come first because he needed Elizabeth to know pleasure with him, to know he took care of her.
His hand slid between their bodies. He stroked her. Demanding, rough, because she liked that, she’d come for—
Her sex squeezed him hard with the contractions of her climax, and then he was pounding into her. Control gone, lust driving him. He thrust deep and hard and he came, exploding into her. His breath sawed from his lungs as he emptied out into her.
Elizabeth.
His heart thundered in his chest. His cock—shit, the damn thing was still erect. He wanted to go again. Wanted to take her endlessly. Wanted—
Footsteps.
He heard them, the soft pad was approaching. Could be someone just walking by. Could be someone…
Coming to Elizabeth?
Growling, he withdrew from her and whirled for the door. Who the fuck is coming to her room at this hour?
She grabbed his arm. “Sawyer? What is it? What are you doing?”
“Someone’s coming.” He hauled his jeans back up and took a step toward the door.
“What?” She rushed around him and put her body between him and the door.
Oh, the hell, no.
“You can’t go running outside!” Her voice was barely a breath. A very angry breath. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were red and swollen, and her tight nipples thrust against the shirt-front. “You’re supposed to be in your room, remember? Locked in your room!”
“And no asshole is supposed to be headed to your room.” Not after midnight. No way in hell.
Her lashes flickered. “Someone was in Cecelia’s room last night…”
His shoulders tensed. The footsteps were getting closer. Was the late-night stranger coming to Elizabeth? Or heading for Cecelia?
“Could be a guard patrolling.” She swept a nervous glance at the door. “And if you go rushing out there, what will happen?”
He’d get tranqed. Maybe the tranq would work on him. Maybe this time, it wouldn’t. Maybe all of his plans would accelerate, and the facility would get ripped to the ground.
She shook her head. “Wait, okay? I don’t want you hurt.” She licked her lower lip. “I never wanted anyone hurt.”
The footsteps were coming closer. And they were coming right to her door.
His hands were clenched into fists. He was going to—
A knock sounded at her door. “Elizabeth?”
Landon’s voice. That motherfuck—
“Stop.” She put her hand on Sawyer’s chest and stared into his eyes. “We have to think.” Her words were whispered. “Think, and not attack.” Her gaze searched his. “Let me see what he wants.”
Sawyer thought he knew exactly what the bastard wanted.
He wants you, Elizabeth.
She carried Sawyer’s scent on her body. He’d marked her.
But he felt like she’d marked him.
It was real. Not just a dream. I know her body. I know her.
“Just hide, okay?”
What the fuck had she just said? Hide?
“I came here to save you, not to watch you crash and burn in front of me.” She blinked quickly, as if—as if she were trying not to cry. He stiffened. Oh, hell, no, Elizabeth couldn’t cry. Not on his watch.
She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Get in the closet. Let me deal with Landon. We have to—”
“Elizabeth!” Landon’s voice was even louder. “I need you, now!”
The guy needed a long overdue ass-whooping. That was what he needed.
“Please,” Elizabeth begged softly. “I can’t watch while everything goes to hell in front of me again.”
Shit. He had his own plans that couldn’t be screwed. Hating it, he gave a grim nod as he retreated. Sawyer yanked the knife from the wall before he slid into the closet. But he didn’t shut the door completely. He left a small slit so that he could peer out and watch Elizabeth.
My Elizabeth.
She yanked on a pair of jeans even as a fist pounded into her door. She was just jerking on her shoes when that door burst open.
Landon and a guard stood in her doorway. Landon’s face was flushed, and Sawyer tensed when the guy lunged forward and grabbed her arm. “You didn’t open your door!”
She shoved him away. “I was getting dressed, Landon. Give a woman some time, would you?” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “And I don’t like this bursting in crap. I’m not a prisoner here, I’m a co-worker, and you don’t get to just—”
“There’s been an incident.” Landon’s voice was off, stilted. The guy had turned his body, and his gaze seemed to be sweeping all over Elizabeth’s quarters. In the closet, Sawyer tensed. He hadn’t left any of his clothing behind, but Elizabeth’s bed was damn well wrecked. And her lips were red and swollen. Her hair tousled.
“What kind of incident?” Elizabeth had moved a bit, subtly positioning her body between the closet and Landon. She’s protecting me. That was…unexpected.
But then, everything about Elizabeth was unexpected.
Dead. She said I was dead.
There was a faint commotion near the doorway. Sawyer shifted a bit to get a better view, and he saw Cecelia appear. The shrink was wrapped in a thick robe, and her hair trailed over her shoulders. “What’s happening?” Cecelia’s question was sharp. A guard stood just behind her.
“An incident,” Elizabeth repeated what Landon had just said. “Only Landon won’t tell me what—”
“Because you need to see for yourselves. Follow me, ladies, now.”
They headed for the door. Elizabeth was moving with fast, jerky motions, obviously wanting to get out of there. No, she wants to get him away from me.
Hiding in that closet didn’t sit well with Sawyer. He wanted to leaped out of there, wanted to grab Elizabeth and hold tight. But his team was counting on him. Plans were in place.
He couldn’t jeopardize them.
Not even for the woman who held the key to his past.