Chapter Two
Cam shimmied her hips on the dance floor, arms raised above her head, and bumped up against Taylor. Her friend bumped her hip back against Cam and laughed.
Bringing her glass to her lips, Cam sipped her fruity frou-frou drink. She preferred beer, but it was a party, and Sienna had shoved this in her hand.
Nothing was better than blowing off steam after a mission. She studied the crowd around her. Enclave residents—young and old—were all smiling, laughing, and having fun. She saw a gray-haired couple boogie across the dance floor to a chorus of cheers. A teen boy was flexing his flirting skills on two giggling girls. A man with a sleeping toddler on his shoulder danced with a woman.
Hope. The room was filled with it. It was the one thing that they couldn’t afford to lose. Cam knew from experience that once you lost hope, everything else withered, died, and turned ugly. It was worth fighting for until their last breaths.
Pushing the unhappy thoughts away, she turned her back against Taylor, and they ground against each other. Cam swung her arms, watching the light glitter off the mass of silver bracelets on her wrists.
She and Taylor moved across the dance floor. She could see Taylor searching for her man. The suave and sexy Devlin was deep in conversation with Hell Squad’s scarred leader, Marcus Steele, and Niko and Roth. They all had serious expressions on their faces.
Shaking her head, Cam danced closer. “Hey, this is a party. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”
She knew that midnight was rapidly approaching. She fought the urge to look around and find a certain annoying berserker. Days ago, in the middle of a firefight, Hemi had claimed a midnight kiss with her. But she hadn’t seen him since she’d arrived. Her lips tried to tip into a frown but she ruthlessly smiled. She was happy the idiot was staying away. If he got near her, she’d be blasting him about her helmet, not kissing him.
Roth lifted his beer. “I was filling them in on that strange area we saw.”
“So, these holes in the ground…?” Niko said. “Did they look bored out? Deliberately made?”
Roth shook his head. “No. They looked more irregular and organic than that.”
“No alien talk tonight.” Cam cocked a hip. “Even badasses need a break. I’m calling in reinforcements.” She waved at their women, and saw Avery, Taylor, Elle, and Mac head in their direction.
“Sneaky,” Roth muttered. Not that he looked too upset as his gaze settled on Avery.
“The aliens aren’t going anywhere for one evening,” Cam said.
The women arrived, and the talk drifted away from the aliens. More drinks were poured, and soon, Elle had them in stitches over the latest one-upmanship battle between Hell Squad’s sniper Shaw and his woman, Claudia.
Roth looked at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight.” He yanked Avery into his lap. Nearby, Taylor and Devlin were slow dancing.
Cam turned, and spotted Mac and Niko pressed against each other, the man whispering something in Mac’s ear. She couldn’t see Sienna and Theron, and guessed they’d snuck out to do something very naughty somewhere else.
She felt a pang of envy. She knew good relationships existed, and was so happy for her friends, but she knew it wasn’t for her.
She set her shoulders back. “All these loved-up couples are giving me a toothache.” She scanned the room. “I need to find a midnight kiss.” She could still welcome in the New Year properly.
There were a group of people dancing nearby, but no one caught her fancy. There had been a cute, nerdy guy from the tech team who’d tripped over himself the other day, just talking to her. She searched for his name. Edward? No…Eric, that was it. He was sexy, in a geeky, shy way.
She moved over toward the food tables, looking for the tech team. She had a hunch most of them wouldn’t be dancing. Sure enough, they were seated, huddled in a group. Eric was talking with another man, and a blonde woman from the tech team named Marin. The woman was super-smart, and helping with work on nullifying the alien mind-control device they’d come up against.
Marin was wearing her usual jeans and shirt. The woman was gorgeous, with blonde curls and a pretty face, but it seemed she didn’t do anything to highlight her prettiness. Cam smelled a story there, somewhere. But hell, most survivors had a story or two they kept buried.
Cam set her drink down, and sauntered in Eric’s direction. When he saw her coming, his eyes widened behind his glasses and he bobbled his drink. Yep, geeky cute.
She was halfway there when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She looked over her shoulder.
A big man was powering through the crowd in her direction.
Hemi always moved like a bulldozer. He wasn’t the tallest of his squad, but his shoulders and chest were wide, and all muscle. He was built for power and combat.
His dark gaze locked on her, his intent clear.
“Nearly time for the countdown,” a voice boomed over a loudspeaker. Cheers erupted from the crowd.
No, no, no. Cam turned quickly, and pushed her way through the cheering throng.
“Ten!” the crowd cried.
Hemi was too big, too bossy, and too alpha male. Not to mention, too annoying. She wanted nothing to do with the man.
“Nine!”
She glanced back, and couldn’t see him anymore. She sucked in a deep breath. Good.
When she turned back, she saw him step in front of her.
“Eight!”
“I’ve not forgiven you for the rhinestones, Rahia. You do not want to be near me right now.” She sidestepped and made a beeline toward Eric.
“Seven!”
“Got a kiss to claim, Cam.”
His deep voice sent shivers through her body.
“Six!”
Grimly, she focused on Eric. “Hey there, handsome. I’m looking for a midnight kiss.”
“Five!”
Eric’s eyes bugged out of his head, and even in the darkened room, she saw the stain of a blush on his cheeks.
“Oh, well, aah…” Then, his gaze moved over her shoulder, and the color drained from his face.
“Four!”
A big hand settled on her hip, spinning her around. Her pulse spiked.
“Three!”
“Back off, Hemi.”
Hard arms wrapped around her, dragging her up against a rock-hard chest.
“Time to stop running,” he growled.
“Two!”
His head lowered, his lips a breath away from hers. She felt traitorous heat curling in her belly.
“What do you want, Cam?”
“One!”
She thumped a fist against his shoulder. It was like hitting rock. Damn, the scent of him wrapped around her. No cologne for Hemi—just heat and man.
“Happy New Year!”
She barely noticed the crowd cheering around her, confetti dropping from the ceiling. Her gaze locked with Hemi’s, and he smiled. The man had such a disarming smile.
And beautifully formed lips surrounded by that sexy, dark beard.
She slid her hands behind his neck and yanked him down. Their lips crashed together, and in the next instant, he was kissing her.
God. God. Cam kissed him back.
***
Hell. Hemi slid his hands down, cupping Cam’s ass, and pulled her closer.
She tasted so good. He slid his tongue along hers and she met him. As he’d guessed, she wasn’t a passive, gentle kisser. As much as he gave, she returned it, her fingers tugging in his hair.
Hungry. He was so damn hungry for her, and so fucking turned on. He lifted his mouth. “Cam.”
The crowd had exploded around them. There was cheering, whistles, and cries of “Happy New Year.”
They stared at each other. He waited for her to pull back and run…like she always did.
Then he realized her dark eyes were glazed, and filled with a hot look.
Suddenly, she leaped up and wrapped her legs around his hips. He took a step back, sliding his arms around her. Then her mouth was back on his.
Damn. He spun and headed toward the door, heedless of the people scrambling out of their way. He charged out of the packed room and into the corridor. Then, he pushed Cam up against the wall, trying to get more of her, to kiss her deeper.
“Cam.” It was a barely intelligible growl.
Her mouth slid from his, her teeth dragging below his ear. “No talking.” Her lips came back to his, kissing him hard.
He felt the edge of her teeth.
“My room’s closer,” she panted, nipping his ear.
Hell, yeah. An urgent intensity filled him. His. Claim. Mate. He felt like he’d been reduced to nothing more than a fucking caveman.
He spun and headed down the corridor, his hands tight on her. Cam was a tall, fit woman, but he carried her with ease. And he knew exactly where her room was.
They arrived at her door, and while he was still holding her and kissing her, she reached out behind her, slapping at the electronic lock. It took her a few tries, and a couple of moans, before she hit it correctly and the door opened.
Hemi moved inside the darkened room. She’d left a lamp on beside her bed, which diluted the shadows a little. He set her down, and felt his cock throbbing against his zipper.
He looked around, interested in seeing her space. It was messy as hell. Clothes were piled on top of chairs, and lots of stuff was scattered across her table.
Cam stepped back, her hands on her hips, which hiked that ridiculously short dress up another inch. His gaze slid down her toned legs.
“Well, Rahia?” Her voice was huskier than usual. “What now?”
There was a challenge in her voice. She was always challenging him. He closed the distance between them, then fingered the strap of her dress.
“I want you naked.”
Her lips parted.
“I want that skimpy excuse for a dress off you.” Yeah, his inner caveman hated knowing other men had seen those long legs, and small, high breasts. That they’d pictured being the one to touch her.
“I love this dress.”
“I like your smooth, dark skin better.” He stroked his hand down her collarbone. She stepped back, watching him, then slipped her fingers under the straps. She dropped them off her shoulders and the top slid down to her waist.
Holy mother of God. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He stared at her breasts—small, perfect handfuls, topped with dark nipples ripe for his hungry mouth.
Then she bent over, doing a sexy little striptease, and unzipped the dress. When she stood, the fabric slithered down her body.
“Fuck.” He knew his tone was reverent. She was only wearing a tiny, little, silver thong.
Her eyes glittered. “Now what?”
He tore open the buttons on his shirt and left it open. “Now I’m going to suck your nipples. Then I’m going to eat you until you scream my name.”
He saw her chest hitch and he cupped her breasts. He loved seeing his big, rough hands against her smooth skin. He wrapped one arm around her slim torso, bending her back over his arm so he could suck one tight nipple into his mouth.
“Oh.” Her hands tangled in his hair, holding his head to her.
He slid his other hand down the long line of her body, following the curve of her ass. He flicked at the little string that disappeared between her buttocks.
“Who did you wear this for?” He knew she sure as hell hadn’t worn it for the tongue-tied tech geek. Hemi tugged on the thong.
She moaned. “Me.”
“Who?”
“Me, Rahia. I don’t dress for a man.”
He gripped the silvery wisp of underwear, then tore it off her. Her gasp was sharp.
An overstuffed couch sat right beside them. He dropped back onto it, twisted, and stretched out on his back. “Now get up here. I want your legs wrapped around my head, and that sweet pussy of yours on my mouth and beard.”
Her mouth dropped open.
He grinned. “Come on, Cam. It’ll be a ride you won’t forget.”
She put one knee on the couch, and the way her gaze stayed on him, made him think of a lioness on the hunt. She knelt beside him and he circled her thighs with his hand and helped her up.
Fuck. She was so wet and smelled so good.
“Spread,” he ordered.
She did, straddling his face with those strong thighs. He went straight for her clit. She cried out.
“Dreamed of this,” he growled against her. “What you’d taste like. The sounds you’d make.”
He sucked and licked, knew his beard would be rubbing some sensitive places. She cried out and shifted restlessly. Her hands sank into his hair, pulling roughly.
The husky cries she made had his throbbing cock in agony. “Grab the back of the couch.”
She released his hair and gripped the couch, fingers sinking into the cushions. He grabbed one of her thighs, pushing it wider to give him better access. He lapped at her, hard and unforgiving, and she ground against his mouth, her cries becoming more urgent, her body rocking.
Then she tensed, her legs tightening around him. Her head flew back and her body shook as she came with a scream.
“Hemi!”
He held her there for a second, savoring the sexy taste of her, before he helped her flop on top of him. She threw an arm over her flushed face.
“You have a clever tongue,” she said lazily.
He flicked at one nipple again and it puckered instantly. “Who did you wear the lace for?”
“No one.”
“Who were you imagining taking it off you? Who’d you imagine touching and tasting you, and making you come?”
She shot him a haughty look. “I’m perfectly capable of giving myself a good orgasm.”
“But it’s not the same as a man worshiping you.” He nipped her shoulder. “Not the same as his tongue on you, or his cock moving inside you.”
“Hemi—”
“Who? Whose hands did you want?”
“Hemi. Let’s not—”
He nipped the curve of her breast this time. “Who, Cam?”
“Dammit, you.” Her hand wrapped around his wrist. “I wanted you.”
Wild satisfaction flooded him, and he slammed his mouth down on hers.