Kara rushed into the motel room and locked the door behind her. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Someone was folowing her, and in her line of work, that was a death sentence.
She’d slipped her tail about an hour ago and stolen a car before holing up here for the night. It was as safe as she was going to get for now.
Marcus was angry. She didn’t blame him for that. She’d failed him and deserved to be punished. But kiled? Kara thought he loved her more than that.
Maybe she’d been wrong al along. Maybe he didn’t love her at al. He wouldn’t kil someone he loved, would he?
This was al Lana’s fault. If she hadn’t survived, none of this would have happened. And she wouldn’t have survived if it hadn’t been for Caleb Stone.
The two of them had ruined Kara’s life, and she wanted them dead—blown into so many pieces there would be nothing left to bury. No one would question her presence at the youth center. She could plant the bomb herself—make sure it was done right.
Once Lana and her guards were dead, Marcus would no longer be angry. He’d forgive her for her failure and she’d finaly be able to go home and be with him again.
Lana entered the gym at the same time she had the past three nights, only this time, Grant wasn’t waiting for her. Caleb was. He stood with his feet braced apart, looking like he was ready to come sprinting after her if she tried to run.
She let out a weary sigh and tossed her backpack along the wal. Running away wasn’t an option, but neither was alowing Caleb to take over her lessons. “Is Grant sick?”
she asked, striding forward. The sight of Caleb in that snug T-shirt and shorts made her stomach tighten. His thick legs were layered with muscle, and the dark hair dusting them made every ridge stand out in stark definition.
“No,” was al he said.
Lana stepped onto the mat, puling together her strength to face him. “I’l wait for him, then.”
“He’s not coming.”
“Then I’l cal one of the other men. Jack has been folowing me everywhere I go. Maybe he’s sitting outside.” She turned to go check, but Caleb’s hand stopped her. His fingers wrapped around her arm, and the contact of his skin on hers drove the breath from her body. She dangled there at the end of his arm, unable to free herself, too stupid to even try.
His thumb slid over her arm as if he couldn’t help himself. Little skittering bundles of nerves scampered through her system until they settled low in her bely in a writhing pile. Six days without his touch had been too much. And not nearly long enough.
He puled her toward him, and she had no choice but to go. She didn’t have the wil to fight him, knowing it was a losing battle.
She looked up into his face expecting him to be angry for shutting him out, or at least gloating that she hadn’t been able to walk away. Instead he gave her a solemn, steady look—the same one he’d worn when she’d first woken up in the hospital. It wasn’t exactly pity on his face, because that she could have resisted. It was something more—a kind of yearning that went beyond sorrow. She could see that he wanted something, but not for himself. For her. He wanted to save her. Protect her.
Lana couldn’t breathe. It was too much, seeing him like this, knowing that he’d stop at nothing to keep her safe even though he had no idea what he was up against. It didn’t matter to him what he had to fight or even if it kiled him. This was what he did. He saved people.
A second later, that devastating look was gone as if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down. His hand slid down her arm, leaving a wake of goose bumps behind.
“I won’t let you shut me out. I’m done playing nice.”
Nice? His ruthless determination to stick by her side until he wore her down was playing nice? Even when he wasn’t with her, he was nearby, watching her.
She must have had one hel of a look on her face, because Caleb let out a rough laugh. “I can see you finaly believe me. Wel, that’s something, at least.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He stopped laughing, but his eyes were stil glittering with amusement. “Yes, you do. We’re done playing games.”
“I wasn’t playing any games.”
“No? You weren’t just pretending you didn’t want me around? You realy can’t stand me?”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the word, so she just nodded.
It was a mistake to taunt him like that.
Caleb leaned closer, and Lana was frozen in place. Her heart was racing like a rabbit’s, knowing she was caught. He reached out and swept a lock of hair behind her ear with a single finger. His voice dropped low, stroking against her nerve endings like velvet. “Do you realy hate it when I touch you?”
She couldn’t even nod. She was too busy wishing he’d touch her again.
He bent his head to her neck, his warm breath fanning out over her throat. “Does that mean you don’t want me to kiss you?” He pressed his mouth at the joint of her neck and shoulder, swirling his tongue over her skin.
Lana grasped his arms to keep her balance and sucked in a breath.
His teeth grazed her neck while his hands slid around to her back. His fingers spread wide, holding her in place. “Does that mean you don’t want to feel me inside you again, filing you up over and over until you come?”
Her knees gave out, and Caleb was the only thing holding her up. Ribbons of sensation shot through her body, and she felt herself growing wet and ready for him to do just what he’d said. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more than to feel the hard length of him slide inside her.
His lips worked up to nibble along the line of her jaw. She tried to turn her mouth to kiss him, but he evaded every attempt. “No answers for me, Lana?”
She managed to shake her head just a little, hoping he’d felt it against his mouth.
Caleb puled back enough to look into her face. His eyes were black, and the signs of his own lust stained his cheeks. “I’m done playing. I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said. No more pushing me away. I won’t alow it.”