Savor Me Slowly

Jaxon watched her, confused. “I’m going with you.”



“No, you’re not.” She stomped to the closet and flipped through the clothes, finally settling on a tight black dress.



His jaw clenched. “What did you mean, you’re a puppet?”



“I do what I’m told or I suffer, all right? Happy now?” After she shimmied into the dress and strapped several blades to her thighs, she tugged on knee-high boots. She stuffed those with a gun and three throwing stars.



He didn’t know why, but seeing her armed aroused him. Anything would, nowadays. “Leave this house, and I’m coming after you. I swear it.”



“You won’t be able to find me.”



At least she didn’t mention the wheelchair. “Wanna bet?”



Her eyes narrowed on him, and she anchored her hands on her hips. “Do I need to knock you out?”



“Try. See what happens.” He was pissed enough to fight her and tie her to the bed.



Exasperated, she tossed her hands in the air. “This is why I avoid men and relationships.” With a shake of her head, she grabbed a brush and jerked the bristles through her hair. When all the tangles were gone, she wrapped the silky tresses into a twist and held it in place with sharp little blades. “If you think that orgasm gives you the right to dictate my actions, you’re wrong.”



“Don’t forget the ring,” he snapped, ignoring her words and motioning to the ring she’d used to knock him out before. “You might need it.”



Her cheeks flushed as she tugged it onto her index finger. “This isn’t the only ring you should fear.” She grabbed the other two, telling him about them as she shoved them in place. “This one will make you vomit your guts. And this one will make you hallucinate until you peel the skin from your bones.”



“I guess I should consider myself lucky you only knocked me out,” he replied bitterly.



“Yeah.” Deadpan expression, deadpan tone. “You should.”



He hated fighting with her for reasons that had nothing to do with work.



Obviously, she hated fighting with him, too, because she sighed and added, “Look. There’s no reason to argue. I have to go and you have to stay. That won’t change. So do you want to tell me how the women are infected by the Schön or should I just find out firsthand?”



His eyes widened, a haze of red fury dotting his vision. “You’re hunting the Schön tonight?”



She stiffened, didn’t reply.



“You are staying here. Get me?” He was on his feet a moment later. He swayed, cringed, but didn’t fall.



She turned away from him. “Right now, I’m faster than you. You’re not going to stop me and we both know it.”



A pause, heavy and cracking. “Why do I feel like you manipulated me into this? That you let me see your pleasure, then asked for information to save you?” He laughed bitterly about his own gullibility. “And here’s a better question. Why am I letting you get away with it?”



She had no response, didn’t even try to defend herself.



“When was your last period?” he asked.



“Uh, excuse me?”



“Just answer the damn question.”



“I don’t have periods.”



The revelation so startled him, some of his anger eased. “Why?”



“Just the way I was designed,” she said, her voice monotone.



Something softened inside of him. “Can you have children?”



Her fingers curled into fists. “Why are you asking me these questions? The answers are none of your goddamn business!”



Rather than anger him, her outburst softened him all the more. “Don’t let one of those aliens kiss or penetrate you, okay? Do you understand? Has nothing to do with me and you.” The truth as well as a lie. “Just don’t.”



She nodded, fingers slowly uncurling. “Listen. I’m not going to be with someone else tonight. But some other night, I can’t promise not to be. I do what I have to do to survive, Jaxon. Don’t you?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She simply stalked out of the room.



CHAPTER 7



Le’Ace hoped her I’m-a-naughty-girl-and-I’m-not-wearing-any-panties expression was solid as she strode into the crowded bar. I’m the sex kitten of your dreams, she tried to project. I’m eager for companionship and willing to do anything for a little attention.



Male eyes glided to her, landed, and stayed.



Of course, the very attention she sought, she hated. But she forced herself to grin as the glistening barrage of strobe lights cascaded from the ceiling, illuminating her from head to toe. Grinned all the wider as those masculine eyes perused her up and down and lingered on her breasts, between her legs.



Could anyone tell she was a trembling mess inside and on the verge of total meltdown?



Three seats were available at the bar. She settled in the one at the end, giving herself a crescent-moon view of the entire room. She ordered a beer.



God, she’d had an orgasm. Not her first, but every other climax had come in the dark of night, while she lay alone in bed. And even then, during those rare times she touched herself intimately, her actions were more hate-filled than pleasurable, sweating male faces constantly flashing through her mind, taunting her.



With Jaxon, however, she’d considered nothing but the moment, the man. Felt nothing but satisfaction.



She was confused by what had happened. She was angry that it had never happened before, upset Jaxon might not want her again since she’d left so abruptly, and already hungry for another taste of that sweet, sweet desire.



A cold bottle pressed against her knuckles, bringing her back to present. She paid the bartender, enraged at herself for her distraction and her inability to stop it. Sure, Estap had other agents in the bar and they were her “protection.” Yeah, right. They were her tethers.



Bastards.



Part of her prayed her target stayed home tonight. She only wanted to talk to Jaxon. The other part of her just wanted to get this over with, knowing she’d be called back again and again until she’d met with the otherwolder.



She scanned the area. None of the men milling around the bar even roused a single spark inside her. Perhaps it was because her six senses knew Jaxon now. Her fingers knew the texture of his skin, and her nose recognized his masculine scent. Her mouth knew his decadent flavor, and her eyes recognized his rugged appeal. The computer chip connected with his emotions, his highs and lows, rasping the man’s enjoyment of her every sound and movement.



The fact that she was in a bar and on the prowl for another man revolted her. Guide me, she commanded the chip. Obviously, she would not get the job done on her own.



Expression contorted in a grimace.



Shit. Relax, just relax. She sipped her beer. Think of something positive. Jaxon’s expression as he’d touched her: absolute possessiveness, utter maleness. His touch, oh God, his touch. He’d known exactly how to touch her, when to press hard, when to be gentle, where she needed stimulation. The more he’d tasted her, the more his voice had deepened, grown husky and wine-rich.



You’re distracted. Again.



Alert me if anyone approaches, she commanded, and allowed herself to drift.



Her entire life, she’d despised having other people’s hands on her. She’d hated putting her hands on other people. Yet, Jaxon she had craved from the first, yearning for him to touch her, being surprised and delighted when he did, and longing to touch him. She didn’t understand how any of this was possible. Didn’t understand how she could want him even now.



This is why I don’t do relationships. Already she felt guilty about leaving him behind. What was Jaxon thinking? Did he hate her?



Her hands clenched at her sides. You can’t do this. You can’t travel this path. Time to put your mind on the task at hand.



Male approaching in three, two…



Le’Ace straightened her spine, instantly on alert.



“Another beer?” the bartender asked her impersonally.



She glanced at her bottle. Empty. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she studied the man waiting for her answer. Human. Mid-thirties. Junkie. He was shaky, track marks riding up both arms, and in desperate need of a fix. She filed that information away, knowing that she would be able to buy his help if needed.



“Ma’am,” he said.



“Yes. Another beer.”



A few seconds later, another ice-cold bottle was in her hand. The bartender flittered to the other end of the counter to help another patron. Le’Ace dismissed him and surveyed her other companions. Again. She could not remember anything she’d seen. Some were dancing, some were playing pool. Some were copping feels of themselves, others, in shadowed corners. No one stood at six feet five, had multicolored hair, and glowing emerald eyes like her Schön.



Human-alien ratio?



Twenty-three humans in front, six in back. Five aliens in front, two in back.



In back? What’s in back? She was ashamed that she’d done little recon for this mission. That kind of shoddy work could get a girl killed.



Three rooms. A bathroom.



How do you know and what are they doing?



Building has been here a long time and is in the system. As for the men, their excitement levels are high, the air thick with illegal cigarette smoke. Two weapon signals detected, probably Glocks. Eighty-seven percent chance they are playing poker.



Was the Schön back there, then? Le’Ace wondered. The thought had barely formed when the front door opened and the Schön strode in. Did I magically summon him? She knew it was him, and her jaw nearly hit the bar as she looked him over.



Her boss had tried to snap holopictures of the male, but the otherworlder’s image had never appeared. Her boss had then tried to describe him to her. “Beautiful,” he’d said. “Stunning.”



Neither word did the alien justice.



Every female gaze latched onto him, desire suddenly saturating the air. The Schön was stacked with muscle. His features were human but his skin was not. His skin looked like polished copper, metallic, not a single pore.



Le’Ace had often wondered why so many aliens possessed such humanoid appearances. She’d even read up on the subject and had come to believe they’d all been created in the same place, once upon a millennia or two. Something must have separated the people into groups, however, sending them to different, far-off places where they evolved to fit their new climates. How they reached these new planets, well, she figured they’d used the same wormholes they’d used to find Earth.



She wished to God they’d just stayed home.



When they’d first come over all those years ago, a violent blood war had erupted. Many people had died, both human and otherworlder. The planet had descended into chaos and panic, a lot of the world’s food, water, and animals nearly obliterated in the process.



Finally, for survival of the species, a tentative peace was reached and the world ceased to be what it once was: exclusive. Most everything had had to be rebuilt. Hence the New World, the need for A.I.R. and brute force. Hence the need for Le’Ace.



Back on track, woman.



Is he armed? she asked the chip.



Yes. Some type of gun, though the make and model are unclear.



Her target surveyed the room until he spotted his own prey, his gaze zeroing in on a young human woman whose nipples appeared hard enough to cut glass. The woman was staring at him and drool seeped from the seam of her bright red lips.



Le’Ace watched as the Schön stalked toward the woman. Determined, she shoved at the man who’d been sitting beside her and told him to leave. He frowned. Until he had to look up…up…up at the alien who now stood just in front of him. Rather than challenge the otherworlder for the girl’s attention, he laughed nervously and beat a hasty retreat.



While Le’Ace was struck dumb by his mesmerizing appearance, her body did not react to him as every other woman’s had. Odd. Did he, perhaps, exude something, an undetectable scent, that drugged women? Lured them? If Le’Ace approached him, would he be able to sense her lack of interest?



The alien slid into the now unoccupied seat beside the human woman. He leaned forward and sniffed her neck. Dark eyes closed in ecstasy, heavily coated lashes fanning ribbons of black on her cheeks. The pair spoke for a moment, but even with her superattuned hearing, Le’Ace could not make out the words. The wild thump of rock music boomed too loudly.



She drew in a deep breath. Okay. I can do this. Running her tongue over her teeth, she hopped to her feet and grabbed her beer. Her dress had ridden up her thighs, but she didn’t push it down. As long as her weapons were concealed, she didn’t care how much skin she revealed.



Get in, get out. She squared her shoulders and stalked forward.



The alien sensed her approach and slowly angled his head toward her. His eyes glowed that vibrant green, pulsing with what seemed to be thousands of pinpricks of light. Those lights seemed to pierce her all the way to the soul, probing for information.



“Hey,” Le’Ace said to the human woman, and it was not a friendly greeting.



The woman’s attention never left the alien. She continued to peer at him as if he were God and he’d come for her deliverance.



Without a word, Le’Ace reached out, grabbed the woman by her bleached-blonde hair, and jerked. There was a yelp, and then the seat was empty and the woman was sprawled on the floor.



The Schön smiled at Le’Ace.



“You belong to me,” Le’Ace told him. “I don’t share.”



“Sit,” he replied.



His voice…he did not speak with one voice but with two, and there was no trace of an accent. One voice seemed to be deep, commanding, while the other was huskier. Lulling. She tried not to frown.