Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(18)

Mack was fairly satisfied with the way things had gone. They had danced around each other, but Jaimie had missed him every bit as much as he had missed her. It was there in her eyes. She was determined to bring them to a brother/ sister relationship, to treat him as she would Kane or Javier, but he was just as determined to get her back. And he never stopped when he wanted something, whether it was personal or work. He would find a way around every argument.

His grip on her tightened involuntarily. He had known, two years ago, he was falling deeper and deeper under her spell, but he hadn’t known how much a part of him she really was. Until he woke up one morning to find her gone. Life went from laughter and adventure to a bleak, desolate kind of hell. Oh, he had functioned, like an automaton, but the best part of him was gone.

He knew the exact moment she let go and drifted off to sleep. She slept with all the trusting innocence of child, her body warm and pliant, her face so beautiful he ached inside. Everything masculine and protective welled up in him along with very primitive possessiveness. He eased his body beneath the covers, molding around her, a kind of heaven and hell. His arm clamped around her, his chin resting on her silky head.

Slow, smoldering desire flared into urgent demand. His body burned for her, an unmerciful, relentless, savage need. His skin crawled with it, his head pounded. The heat was a living flame until every inch of his skin was burning. Mack McKinley was a man who lived with the truth about himself. He recognized his strengths and weaknesses, he acknowledged the hidden demons he controlled with absolute discipline. He carried a kind of ice-cold rage in him, but still, this shook him. This felt out of control, beyond control even. He didn’t need the complication of fierce, combustible chemistry raging between them. He wanted to court her slowly and carefully, seal her to him for eternity. This time she wasn’t getting away from him.

Jaimie moved in her sleep, the curve of her bottom sliding invitingly, painfully, over his throbbing, aroused body. Mack nearly groaned out loud. So, okay, this wasn’t working out the way he had planned. He rolled over, away from Jaimie, silently cursing his body’s raging need. He had been with her hundreds of times, taking her each night, almost every morning they’d been together, but the hunger had never been so strong, so urgent. Just the scent of her filled him with such a powerful need he wasn’t certain he had the strength to resist. The urge was almost animalistic. He shifted positions again, trying to ease the relentless aching.

A soft chuckle floated tauntingly from the center of the room. “Can’t sleep?” Kane asked.

“Go to hell,” Mack growled, resisting the urge to throw something.

“I think you’re screwed, Mack. If it’s as bad as I think, that bastard paired you two. You were already attached physically and emotionally. Good luck.”

Mack knew Kane was referring to Dr. Whitney’s infamous breeding program. He had paired GhostWalker males with some of the females. Kane had served a short period of time at one of the breeding facilities—in fact, he’d aided some of the women in escaping. Brian had also served at one of Dr. Whitney’s facilities. Few knew where the doctor was working; he moved in secret and was heavily guarded at all times. Mack and Kane had come to the conclusion that it was not in anyone’s best interest to work with or near him.

Kane had testified in a closed hearing, as had Brian, turning over evidence of Whitney’s breeding program to Sergeant Major Griffen, as per the chain of command, but the meeting had been top secret and no one knew the outcome. The men had rejoined Team Three under Colonel Wilford’s command and had gone on several missions. Griffen worked directly under the colonel and presumably had turned all evidence and reports over to him. Kane didn’t talk about his time with Whitney, but he hadn’t slept much since and he’d definitely been searching for someone. Mack was fairly certain it was one of the women he’d helped escape the breeding compound. Mack still had trouble believing such a thing had existed.

“Tell me about pairing. What is that?”

Kane sighed. “Are you sure you want to know? Sometimes it’s better to keep your head in the sand.”

“Tell me about Whitney,” Mack insisted.

Mack did his job and took his men where the sergeant major directed them. They had a damn good record when it came to rescuing hostages from cities where no one knew who was the enemy and who was innocent. He enjoyed being enhanced with all the added things it allowed him to accomplish, but the rumors he was hearing about some of the experiments Whitney had conducted along with the genetic enhancements made him realize they were dealing with someone who might be brilliant but as mad as a hatter.

“He’s been allowed to do whatever he wanted without answering to anyone for so long that he believes himself above the law, above even the president. He considers himself a great patriot and defender of the country. He believes the end justifies the means.”

“So basically you’re telling me that everything Jaimie told me about him and his experiments is probably true and I should have listened to her.”

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying. I said it back then too. She’s too damn smart to ignore.”

“I hear a reprimand in there.”

“I’m just saying, you hurt Jaimie again and I’m going to tear out your heart and feed it to you.”

Kane sounded casual enough, but he wasn’t kidding. Kane, like most of his team, was protective of women. Mack’s mother had been the one stable influence most of them had. All of them had developed what the psychs referred to as being overprotective. And maybe they all were, but when it came to women, they didn’t like anyone messing around with them.