Chapter 35
Three days later, at dusk, Kira and Flynn stood side by side in the clearing by the ruined bunker, where Alexander Grant’s guards were buried.
They’d dug up all the bodies—all the bones—and piled them in a heap in the middle of the clearing.
Flynn said, “I always thought I failed those shifters, the ones in the cells with us. I thought I was supposed to be the one to save them.”
“You saved a lot of them,” she said. “You made them a crew.”
He nodded. “But I was always pissed at Jesse Travis. Angry that I spent months trying to figure out how to get us out of there, and he did it in two days. And then he negotiated the territory for me. Made Nashville pay for it, after they attacked us.”
“You saved his life,” Kira reminded him.
“Yeah.” He grinned at her. “Twice.”
Kira laughed. “So you’re still ahead.”
“Always.”
She looked up at him. “You ready?” she asked. He nodded.
Kira backed up and Changed into dragon form. She took a deep breath, fire rumbling in her throat. Then she breathed out.
The bodies burned with dragonfire, a column of red-gold flame. Flynn put his hand on her shoulder, lending her his power, and the flame grew a heart of blue magic.
The bones burned, flame to embers to ash, until there was nothing left but a circle of blackened ground. Then they turned their power on the ruined bunker, and burned it until it collapsed in on itself in a pile of slag.
There, said Kira’s voice in his head. Now they’re finally dead, and you can have peace.
Flynn thought of his crew, the cub on the way, and the ones that would follow. He smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said.
He climbed on her back and they flew home, under the starry skies. Kira cloaked the two of them, so that no one on the ground could see them. When they glided over the compound, they saw figures in the shadows near the main cabin, ducking behind trees for cover, stealthily making their way toward the house.
Kira banked around and landed softly on the roof near the back of the cabin. She Changed, and the two of them climbed silently toward the front of the roof.
Below them, they heard a smothered giggle, and then a muffled curse as someone tripped over a tree root.
“Shut up!” That was Xander’s voice, a low whisper. “Holy hell, Caitlyn, no wonder they kicked you out of spy school. You flunk stealth.”
That just brought on more giggles. “It’s the daiquiris,” Sloan whispered. “She can’t help it.”
“You people are the worst prank buddies ever.”
“Who got you the bear shit?” Sloan whispered.
“Who made the glitter?” That was Jenny.
“Shut the fuck up.”
The floorboards of the porch creaked. Flynn and Kira looked at each other and shook their heads. “That’s going on the Welcome mat,” Flynn said. “A bib, bib pile of bear shit. With glitter on it.”
He heard Kira stifle a giggle. “Bib” was Brandon’s way of saying “big,” and for some reason she thought it was hilarious.
“Should we jump down there and scare the hell out of them?” Kira whispered.
Flynn considered, then shook his head. “Nah. They’re having too much fun. And we have important things to do.”
They climbed back up the roof and let themselves down through the skylight in the loft. As soon as they were inside, he backed her up against the desk and plundered her sweet, sexy mouth with his own. Damn. He would never get tired of this. Not in a thousand years.
Her hands slid down over his ass, pulling him against her. He felt himself immediately getting hard. When he finally broke the kiss, she breathed in his ear, “I thought we had important things to do.”
He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh. “We’re doing them.” He slid his hand between her legs, teasing her through her pants. “I still don’t know how you manage to Change and have clothes on.”
“You have dragon magic now,” she said. He found the sweet spot, and she gave a little gasp. “I can probably teach you to do it.”
Flynn stroked just a tiny bit harder, loving her reaction. “Why would I want to? I hate clothes.” He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her hips to him, so she could feel how hard he was. “Besides, I was under the impression you liked me naked.”
She smiled wickedly. “I was under the impression you liked me wearing leather boots.”
“I do,” he said, nipping his way down the side of her neck. “I just like them best when you’re not wearing anything else.”
He took her hand and backed into the bedroom, drawing her with him. There was a dim light on next to the bed; otherwise, the room was in shadow.
He unzipped her jacket and slid it down her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Slowly, sensuously, he unsheathed each of her wrist knives, running the flats of the blades ever so softly up her arms.
The cold steel against her skin made her shiver.
He laid the knives aside and unbuckled her wrist sheaths, lifting each of her wrists to his lips for a soft kiss.
He followed that with her boot blades, kneeling at her feet and running his hands down the outsides of her thighs. After he removed the knives, he let his fingers trail up her inner thighs to her burning core, stroking it in slow circles through her leather pants.
Kira sucked her breath in with a hiss, swallowing a moan.
Oh, hell yeah.
Flynn moved around behind her, sliding one hand up under her breast, cupping it. The other hand dipped underneath her collar to free the blade sheathed down her back.
Then he reached up to that silky, beautiful knot of hair and pulled out the lethal stiletto chopsticks that held it together. Her hair cascaded down, soft and sexy and wild.
He loved her hair. He fucking loved everything about her. He ran his fingers through it, scenting it, rubbing his cheek against it. Marking her with his own scent.
She loved that—he knew that already. She loved feeling his lion coming closer to the surface. Hot. Passionate. Dangerous. Proud. He gave a low growl, and she dropped her head back on his shoulder, baring her neck.
He gave it another soft bite, right on the sensitive tendon that ran down the side of it.
Then he reached two fingers into the front of her bustier and pulled out one more tiny, thin blade from between her breasts.
He twirled the blade slowly, holding her tight against him with his other hand, his shaft against her taut sexy ass. Then he slid the blade down the front of her bustier. It severed the laces, the tough leather parting like gossamer.
The bustier parted and fell to the ground. Flynn took the blade to the bottom of her underblouse and slid it upwards, parting the fabric from hem to neckline. It joined the bustier on the floor.
“I’ve killed men for less than that,” she murmured.
He put the blade down and cupped her breasts. “Wait a couple of hours, would you? That way I can at least die happy.”
“You know there are other ways to get my clothes off.”
“But this way is the most fun.” He ran his thumbs over her nipples, feeling her skin quiver. Then he turned her around and dipped his head, sucking gently on one nipple, then the other. She arched her back, making the kind of sexy noises that made his dick tighten.
He pushed her slowly backwards toward the bed. “You forgot to cut my pants off,” she murmured.
“I figured you really would kill me. You love those pants.”
“True.”
“But I might risk it. Because if I cut them off, then you still keep those sexy fuckin’ boots on.”
“Oh. Is that all?” There was a flicker of blue flame, and the pants disappeared. The boots stayed, along with her lacy black panties.
“Oh, fuck.”
She ran her hands up under his t-shirt, on his bare skin. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“That’s how I feel almost all the time.”
He stripped off his t-shirt, felt her lips and hands on his chest, his back. Her hair swept forward, caressing his skin.
She backed up against the top of the dresser. He moved his hand down, down, stroking her thighs, then kneeling to drop hot kisses on them, running his tongue across the sensitive skin.
Kira gripped the edge of the dresser, her head thrown back, parting her thighs for him.
He circled his fingers over her clit through her panties, teasing it.
Kira gripped the edges of the dresser. Flynn moved her panties aside, dipping his fingers into her overheated core. A soft purr came from his chest as he felt how wet she was.
He gave her a slow, leisurely rhythm. She dug her fingers into his hair, gasping and moaning, moving her hips to meet his hand.
He broke his rhythm once, pushing the cloth barrier aside to push a deep tongue kiss on her clit that made her gasp and whimper. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and began his deep, rhythmic stroking once more, his fingers filling and stretching her as she moved her hips to draw him deeper.
The tension rose in her and then crescendoed, shaking her whole body. She threw her head back and stifled a roar, growling deep in her throat.
Desire rose in Flynn like a flame—a desperate need. He rose up, fumbling with his zipper. Kira pushed his hands away, grabbed the top of his jeans and pulled him toward her. She wasn’t gentle or slow; her hands were hot and they were everywhere.
He felt like his dick was going to burst out of his zipper. No woman had ever been what she was to him, or ever could be. She made him want to die for her with just a look or a touch.
Flynn let Kira strip off his jeans. Then he swept her up in his arms and took her to the bed. With a growl, he fastened his teeth on her silky panties and gave a shake of his head, ripping them off her, exposing her sweet, wet pussy.
The scent of her was driving him over the edge.
“You are the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever seen. Brave. Strong. Powerful.” He devoured her body—lips, teeth, tongue, hands. Her amazing soft, full breasts, the curve of her hips, her taut belly and thighs. Her neck, her lips, her muscled arms and the soft place under her ear.
He ravished her body, devouring her sweet core, making her come again and again with his mouth and his hands.
Finally, he plunged into her, feeling the power between them. It flickered over them in blue fire, a visible sign of the love and magic that bound them together.
As they rose together, power to power, magic to magic, soul to soul, his heart broke open, and he whispered words of love until they floated back down to earth.