Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(101)
Jaimie let her breath out in a little hiss. “All right, Mack. I’ll concede you might have been right. I’ve been concentrating on finding out everything I could about Whitney. I might have accidentally stumbled onto these others without knowing it, but if we find out who they are . . .”
She tried to push back, to move her hips in a slow circle, but his fingers gripped her hard and he held her firmly against him until she could feel the very rise and fall of his breath through his thick, hot shaft.
“No. You’re in enough trouble with what you have. They were going to kill you, Jaimie. Thornton ordered a hit on you.” He smacked her butt, as if he couldn’t stop the spurt of anger rushing through him, sending waves of heat like a flash through her system. “The dead teacher, Jaimie. That was your warning and you knew it at the time. Who else had access to your file? Thornton was telling you to back off Whitney, but you didn’t listen so he sent his goon squad. They were going to torture you to find out what you knew and if you’d told anyone else. And then they were going to kill you.” He enunciated each word carefully as if she might not be able to understand him.
She could feel hurt radiating off of him in waves. It was crippling, the way the emotion battered at her, swamped her, reached out and claimed her. Betrayal. That was what it felt like to him. She’d already turned him inside out and now this. She didn’t want to experience his emotions but somehow, their energies were so knitted together that she did, regardless of her own desires.
Jaimie closed her eyes as her body rippled with need. “I’m well aware they were sent to kill me, Mack. I had to take the chance.”
He went absolutely still as comprehension dawned. “You knew they’d kill you.” His breath caught in his lungs. “Oh, God, Jaimie. You knew they were going to kill you.”
She nodded slowly, afraid to move now. “Yes. I had to find a way to keep you all safe.”
“Damn it, Jaimie. It was suicide.” His hands gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Did you even for one moment think about me?”
“You’re all I was thinking of,” she defended. “You were out there risking your life, and you didn’t even know the danger was from the one sending you out.”
Mack’s fingers flexed on her hip. For a moment he laid his cheek against her back, breathing deep, his hands caressing her skin. “I don’t want to live in a world without you in it, Jaimie.” His mouth pressed tightly against her spine. “Never put yourself in jeopardy like that again.”
Her heart turned over. The fury was gone from him in an instant. She’d delivered more than a body blow; it had been a knockout punch. She hadn’t meant to shake him. Her decision had seemed so intelligent at the time, her way of saving him, the only way she could.
He trailed kisses along her spine. “I don’t know what this is between us, Jaimie, but it isn’t just sex. You’ve never been just sex to me. Don’t sacrifice yourself, not for me, not for anyone. If I didn’t have you, what would be the point?”
Were there tears in his voice—dropping like burning acid along her back? She couldn’t tell and when she tried to turn her head to look over her shoulder at him, he began moving again. Her body responded instantly as he drove deep, a sizzling stroke of pleasure that sent rockets going off in her head. She gasped and pushed back into him, merging, one skin, one breath. Her eyes burned. It was always this way, the mindless pleasure coursing through her veins, her every nerve ending alive the moment he moved in her.
He could rule her body and heart so easily, and right then, when he’d been so furious with her, she felt more emotion from him than ever. It felt like love. Every stroke. Each time he thrust into her, driving deep, taking her up, swelling inside her, pulsing with her, while her sheath tightened around him, gripping with hot intent. She heard his groan, knew he was close. He stopped and she nearly cried.
Mack leaned over her body again with infinite slowness, this time pressing against her most sensitive spot, sending her body spasming, the roar of her orgasm tearing through her womb and up to her stomach so that she went into overdrive, shaking, shuddering. She felt the hot splash of his seed deep inside, but instead of his hoarse cry, she felt his mouth at her ear, his lips moving, small, soft brushes against her lobe.
I love you.
Her heart clenched. Her mind stilled. She wasn’t certain he’d actually said the words, but she felt them etched into her mind.
Did you hear me?
She knew better than to look at him. She barely inclined her head, wanting to weep with joy. It was so like him to pick this moment when she didn’t know whether he was angry, sad, or overwhelmed with physical lust, but emotion rocked his voice and that was enough for her.
Don’t ever leave me, Jaimie.
He knelt up, slowly pulled his body from hers to get shakily to his feet. He helped her up and pulled her into his arms, just holding her to him, his face buried against her neck. “You can’t ever do something like that again. I want you to stop this, Jaimie.” He pulled back to look into her eyes.
She saw so much raw emotion there it shook her. “You have to hear me on this, Mack. Really listen to me, because it’s important. My programs and computers are my weapons. In my own way, I’m still out there fighting like you are. You risk your life and you wanted me right there with you. I can’t do that, but I can do this. Why is risking my life any different than you risking yours?”
Christine Feehan's Books
- Christine Feehan
- Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)
- Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)
- Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)
- Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)
- Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)
- Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)
- Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)
- Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)
- Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)