Authors: C.J. Barry
Body Thief (27 page)
Who replaced Mercer with someone who cared? “Good thing I gave him my gun.”
Mercer’s eyebrows rose. “You gave your father your gun? In the detention center?”
“If he wasn’t in the detention center, he wouldn’t need the gun,” she told him.
Mercer started smiling, and then he starting laughing. It was deep and real, and Cam liked it. Then he shook his head with something that resembled admiration. “Something tells me your father will do just fine.”
That warmed her heart. Her body, however, was shivering.
“Change back to Shifter form,” Mercer said, turning serious as he watched her tremors grow.
“No,” she said. She couldn’t do it, not in front of him. “I’m good. It’s just freezing in here.”
“It’s over seventy-five degrees in here,” he said, frowning deeply. “If I raise it any higher, all the food in the freezer will melt.”
Her body was healing quickly, thanks to the food and water. The side effect was the shakes. She was about to tell him that when he stood up, walked around the other side of the bed, and slid under the covers.
Cam stiffened as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. She felt warmth all down her backside. “What are you doing?”
“Body heat,” he said simply. “
Or
, you can shift back to your Primary form.”
Or
, you can shift back to your Primary form.”
“Can’t do that,” she murmured. His ninety-eight degrees seeped into her back, pushing away the cold. Her shivers quieted.
“Why not?” he asked, in her ear.
She closed her eyes, accepting his embrace. “Ugly.”
His arms tightened around her a little more. “You’re not ugly, Cam. In any form.”
She felt cozy and safe. “Liar.”
Mercer’s voice was sad. “Only when I drink.”
It occurred to her that that was true. “I thought you hated Shifters.”
He shrugged. “You’re okay.”
Okay?
Okay?
She was damned hot. “How do I know that you aren’t just saying that to get my help?”
Okay?
She was damned hot. “How do I know that you aren’t just saying that to get my help?”
Mercer didn’t answer for a moment. Then he splayed his hand over her hips very carefully as he pressed her back against his body. She felt the outline of his erection and closed her eyes at the rush of desire that swept over her. He wanted her. And he knew exactly who and what she was. No games this time. She
was
right. He had made up his mind. He was here with her by his choice.
was
right. He had made up his mind. He was here with her by his choice.
She ground her buttocks against him, and he hissed in her ear. The sound ignited the heat that had been simmering in her body since he slid into bed with her. All those flashes of what it would be like came back with a vengeance.
“Cam,” he said softly. “This isn’t a good idea.”
She wasn’t playing around. “Are you in or out, Mercer?”
She ran her hand over his, which was above the covers, holding her, and dragged it up to her breast. His fingers flexed against her through the fabric. She closed her eyes and savored every touch. She’d lied to him. There weren’t
that
many ex-lovers.
that
many ex-lovers.
His breathing got deeper and faster. Heat crackled between them like a flash fire. Still, his restraint was admirable. It wouldn’t work, but it was admirable.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered against her ear, his breath hot and voice rough.
Part of her knew he was right. The day would come soon when he’d hurt her, but not in the physical sense. She had no delusions about ever fitting into his life or his world. But that was someday.
“Trust me, I’m healing faster by the minute.” And she was. The food and water were the extra energy she needed. The pressure in her belly had subsided and moved far, far lower. She lifted her arm and tucked it behind his neck to pull his lips closer. He obliged, kissing her shoulder and neck, his scruff rough along her smooth skin. The tension in his muscles told her he was fast catching up with her on the lust scale.
His hand slipped under the covers and then under her shirt. She felt the heat of his palm skim lightly over her stomach to her breast. Her nipples hardened more, aching for his touch.
She moaned at the firm but tender way his fingers stroked her skin, exploring every inch slowly and methodically. The promise of slow, long, intense lovemaking flooded her mind. Every nerve ending in this body went on high alert.
“Damn,” he whispered, and then he was gone, leaving a rush of cool air between them. He lay back on the bed behind her and blew out a long breath. “We can’t do this, Cam. You’re injured.”
Oh no, he wasn’t doing this to her. She rolled over and threw her leg over his hips to straddle him. His eyes were so black they were nearly lost in the darkness of the bedroom. His hands wrapped around her thighs and held them in place. “Cam—”
“Shut up, Mercer,” she said and leaned over to kiss him. Her hands explored from his abdomen to his shoulders, committing every ridge and valley to memory. Thick muscle, powerful arms, deep chest. His hands slid up her thighs to her hips, and his thumbs worked toward her center. He groaned when he realized she wasn’t wearing panties under his T-shirt.
She stopped kissing him and closed her eyes, concentrating on the caress of his thumb on her clitoris. Stroke, circle, pressure—all melding into one wondrous caress. She felt the tension build in her core and stretch across her body like a spring building energy.
Stroke, circle, pressure.
Her breathing turned deep and measured as the climax approached. There was no pain from her wound, only ecstasy that tightened around her insides to the point of breaking. And in a single, powerful moment, recoiled. She welcomed the implosion with a drawn-out, heartfelt groan. Tension flowed out of her body with each pulse.
Her body shuddered with release, and she collapsed on top of Mercer to recover. He stroked her hair, his hands large and strong against her skin. She could have stayed like that forever, savoring the aftermath and the embrace. But they weren’t done yet.
She pushed off his chest and looked down at him. His expression was tight and hungry, but he didn’t make a move. Looked like she was going to have to take the initiative. Cam lifted off his hips to unzip his jeans.
His hand went around her wrist. “Not a good idea, Cam.”
She broke his grip and unzipped the jeans slowly and deliberately. “In or out, Mercer.”
A pained look crossed his face as she tugged the jeans down his hips, exposing cotton shorts. Underneath, he was heavy and hard. She smiled. “I think you’re in.”
“I can’t promise to be careful,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. His honesty sent shivers down her spine. He wouldn’t be careful. The man had self-control in his work, in his life, in every other waking moment. But in love, that’s where Mercer would show his true self.
“Good,” she said, and pushed the shorts down. His fingers clenched her thighs as she wrapped her fingers around his girth and positioned herself over him. “In or out.”
Every muscle in his body was taut, straining. And then he let out a groan and bucked, filling her just partway. He was being as careful as he could, and she sank into him and pushed down all the way. He filled her—body and soul—and she moaned at the longing for more.
His hands held her down. “I’m in.”
And then he pulled back and arched into her, his invasion slow and deliberate. There was no pain, only a sense of wholeness as he lifted her up and then filled her again. He drove into her again and again; each long, slow stroke fueling the pressure and the promise. Time spun out, lost in the flood of sensations and ecstasy.
His rhythm became slower and more desperate. Her own need arose, doubling with every thrust. As the spring tightened, she sensed the moment when he lost control, when he became himself, when the weight of the world held no sway. With a great growl, he drove into her one last time. Then her climax overshadowed everything else.
Griffin was too comfortable to answer his cell phone. It was by the bed where he’d left it last night, too far out of reach. He’d have to let go of Cam, and he wasn’t ready to do that just yet.
It went to voice mail, and the tension he felt with it. Cam’s body was hot and soft against his. She’d settled half on, half off him while they slept.
The cell phone started ringing again.
Griffin ignored it and turned to Cam. Her Shifter shadow enveloped them both, but he didn’t mind. If that’s what it took to feel like this, he was good with it.
The cell phone stopped ringing after three rings.
He brushed her hair from her face, felt its silkiness between his fingers. She wouldn’t shift to her Primary form because she thought she was ugly. Would rather heal more slowly, suffer more than turn into something she hated in front of him. That was his fault. Well, him and pretty much every other human on the planet. There had been no welcome for Shifters, and that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.
The cell phone rang again—twice and hung up.
Griffin sighed. It had to be Ernest. That kid was relentless. Plus, he probably had something important to say. Griffin slipped away from Cam, and she gave a little sigh of protest before settling back onto his bed.
He picked up the phone, walked into the living room, and scanned the incoming calls. All from Ernest. Then he waited. Ten seconds later, the phone rang again.
“This better be good,” he answered.
“I gave you a cell phone so you could get my calls,” Ernest said, sounding mighty pissed off for Ernest.
“I was busy,” Griffin said. “What’s wrong?”
“We had a new attack at 5 A.M. this morning.”
“On our list or off?”
“Off.”
Griffin sensed that there was more. “And?”
“And three people died at this one.”
Hell
. “You’re positive it was a copycat hit?”
. “You’re positive it was a copycat hit?”
“This is
me
,” Ernest said, sounding slightly insulted. “They never killed anyone before. In all those other attacks. Why now?”
me
,” Ernest said, sounding slightly insulted. “They never killed anyone before. In all those other attacks. Why now?”
Good question. They were either getting sloppy, or they were making a statement. There was only one way to find out. “We’ll check it out.”
“One more thing,” Ernest said. “Don’t call me at work, just on this cell.”
Griffin walked over to the window and checked through the blinds. Their Shifter spy was still there. Man, he didn’t learn. “Is it that bad?”
“Yes, I can barely get anything in or out of the office with Roberts on my ass. Oh, and your missing shipment? It never existed.”
Griffin stilled. “No record of it?”
“Someone high up had those files erased, permanently. What the hell is going on, Griffin?”
Nothing good, and it was getting worse by the minute. Just how high up did this go? Harding had to be involved. Did the XCEL upper brass know? The senate committee? The president?
Now he was just being paranoid. Regardless, a new line had been crossed, a point of no return. It was time to start cutting losses.
He asked Ernest, “Who would have access to the Salt Rounds you gave us?”
“Just a select few agents. It’s not standard equipment yet due to the beta status,” Ernest said. “I had to file three separate requests so you could get it. Why?”
“We checked out a different hit in progress last night.”
“Wait, how did you find out about it?” Ernest asked.
“Anonymous tip,” he said.
“How convenient,” Ernest muttered. “Let me guess. Humans?”
“You got it, and they used the round on Cam. Almost killed her.”
“No way! Is she okay? Does she need anything?”
Griffin smiled at Ernest’s concern. “She’s recovered. How did they get the ammo?”
Ernest blew out a breath. “It had to be someone inside.”
Definitely, Griffin just didn’t know how inside. He did know, however, that this was getting too hot for Ernest to be involved, especially if Harding was behind it. Then he did what he had to. “Ernest, you’re fired.”
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