He refused to give up and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Why does he want to separate us?”
“I didn’t do my job. Therefore, I’m off the case.”
A moment passed. This could be a manipulation on her part to finally get him to talk. In that instant, however, he couldn’t have been less concerned. Hell. No. They weren’t keeping him from Mishka. He would see her again.
“You need to know what I know about the Schön? Fine. I’ll tell you.”
Eyes widening, she shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t say another word. Whatever you say to me, I will repeat, and I hate my boss so fucking much right now I want to fail.”
He couldn’t let her go. Not yet. “The Schön can smell when a woman is fertile.” He settled his palm on her thigh again, the heat of her skin like a brand. “I asked about your period earlier because fertility is what they crave, what they need.”
A shallow breath emerged from her. “Stop. Just stop.”
“Stop talking or touching?”
“B-both?”
A question when she’d meant it as a statement. So telling. He almost smiled. Her feminine core was positioned in the middle of his chest. When he slid his fingers to the edge of her panties, she moaned. A bead of moisture wetted his shirt.
Shit. He moaned.
“They don’t want halfling children,” he said.
“Halflings aren’t even possible.” She spread her knees wider in invitation. “Our scientists have tried. Only reason I’m possible is becasue I’m a machine.”
He wouldn’t take her over the edge. Not yet. No fast, easy orgasm for her this time. They were both going to work for it. Otherwise, she’d walk away from him afterward, emotionless mask back in place. He knew it, felt it. So he clasped her hips, fingers digging in and holding steady.
“Our scientists failed, but other species’ scientists have not. Halflings are possible.” Mia was proof of that, though only a rare few knew it. “But like I said, I seriously doubt that’s what the Schön are after. I don’t think they care about the babies they create at all.”
“Then what?” Mishka wiggled on him, rubbing her clit against his sternum. Her head fell back, hair tickling his stomach. Her lips parted on a blissful sigh.
He squeezed her waist until she stilled. God, his blood was burning his veins, turning everything to ash. His erection throbbed, desperate for a single touch. A stroke.
“What I learned through the women is that the Schön can’t experience orgasm unless there’s an egg to receive their seed. That’s why they keep the women for several days if conception doesn’t happen right away. There’s still a possibility of it, which means they can still experience orgasm.”
Her brows arched into her hairline, curiosity blending with the rosy glow of her arousal. “All this, infecting human females, killing them, for sex?”
“I think. Could be more to it, but that’s all I’ve found out so far.” Sweat trickled from his temples and onto the pillow below him. “Every infected woman I’ve killed has been pregnant.” He hated himself for every death, too. So needless. Don’t think about that. Not here, not now.
Mishka didn’t judge his actions, his despicable admission not even fazing her. “Why keep this to yourself? Why not tell us right away? Measures can be taken. Birth control hormones in the city’s food supplies, warn women not to sleep with anyone resembling a Schön, things like that. So I ask again. Why?”
“Because—”
“Why!” As he hesitated again, she pressed the blade deep and leaned into him. Their noses touched, her sweet breath caressing his cheeks.
“Because.” Just say it, put it out there. “One, you saw the women in the bar. Once they see a Schön in person, they only care about fucking him. Two, I said that Schön could only come with a fertile female. I said nothing about infected females being unable to spread the disease on their own.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had to kill an infected male. Husband of one of the victims. No one knows, but he bore all the beginning signs. Sunken eyes, graying skin.”
Mishka’s lids closed, blocking him.
Jaxon continued. “Lastly, I don’t think the disease can be stopped. I think it’s going to spread. And spread. And I doubt there’s anything we can do about it.”
Slowly her eyelids opened, and hope stared down at him. “Why do you think that? Surely there’s something we can do.”
“Ever played dominos?”
“No, but I know what they are.”
“Think of every citizen on Earth as a domino. We’re all lined up. Some have already fallen and they’re quickly knocking others down. They, in turn, knock others.” He paused. “One of the women I killed looked human, but she wasn’t. She’d actually come with a group of men from Raka, a planet the same infection had just destroyed. Nearly every citizen had already fallen. One by one. The more they tried to stop it, the faster it spread. I think…I think our downfall has only just begun.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. I need to think.” Mishka’s blade eased from his neck. She frowned. Tried to move away from him.
He grabbed her neck and rolled, pinning her underneath him. “There’s nothing we can do about it right now. Think later.”
CHAPTER 12
Le’Ace peered up at Jaxon. “We’re not doing this,” she said flatly. Inside, though, she trembled with eagerness. She ached. She desired. But she was too cowardly to allow herself to have it. Physical pain she knew how to handle. Pleasure? Not so much. The aftereffects were too difficult to deal with.
Fire blazed in his silvery eyes, liquefying the irises and making them swirl with longing. “We’re not doing what?” His hands anchored beside her temples, enveloping her in a hard embrace.
Her nipples hardened, reaching for his muscled chest, his heat. “This. You and me. Sex.” Can’t, you know you can’t.
Tomorrow they would part, and she would not be allowed to see him again. Giving herself to him here and now would be bliss in exchange for a lifetime of anguish, yes. After the orgasm he’d given her earlier, there was no question she would like what he did to her now. Yet she suspected, deep down, that giving herself to him would also bring another layer of chaos into her life.
Already she wanted him as her own. Was obsessed with him, really. Any more want and she might die inside, little by little, every time she wondered where he was, who he was with, and what the hell he was doing.
She cut off a bitter laugh. Why are you tormenting yourself? Even if they could sustain a relationship after this, he wouldn’t want her. Not permanently.
“Are you sure?” he finally asked, his voice seduction incarnate. The hard length of his cock rubbed between her legs. “I feel fully functional.”
Le’Ace hissed in a breath as she fought another wave of sensual hunger. “That doesn’t mean anything. I’m the only woman around. Of course you want me.”
Hot prongs of jealousy and possessiveness sliced at her. When they parted, would Jaxon fall straight into the arms of another woman? Fall into pretty, petite, unbearably whiny Cathy’s arms?
Le’Ace bared her teeth at him.
He blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Nothing.” The single word was snapped and baring teeth of its own.
Leaning down, Jaxon gently kissed her temple. His lips burned, imprinting on her DNA, proclaiming her to be Jaxon’s woman. “All you have to do is tell me to leave and I’m gone. And I don’t want you because you’re the only one around. I would pick you out of thousands.”
A stinging retort refused to form. One minute ticked by, then another.
His body fell more heavily onto hers, hard, uncompromising, and her knees opened wider, providing a cradle. His rugged scent encased her, seeping into her nostrils, then her lungs, then infusing with her every cell.
“What am I to you?” she asked tightly.
There was a painful pause. He looked up, away from her and at the headboard. “I won’t lie to you and tell you I love you. I just, I honestly don’t know what you are to me.”
“I’m not your girlfriend.” The words were not a question and they were not for Jaxon; they were a reminder to herself. Not you, never you.
His head tilted to the side and his gaze returned to her. Intent, he studied her. “Do you want to be?”
Yes. Her hatred for Estap intensified as she said, “No. Of course not.”
The sides of his jaws clenched and unclenched, as though he were chewing on something distasteful. “There’s disgust in your tone. I’m that abhorrent to you?”
Her stomach churned into thousands of tiny knots. Did I just hurt his feelings?
Eighty-eight percent chance his affront is genuine. His corticotropin and epinephrine levels have spiked.
“Well?” he snapped.
She could say yes. If she did, she wouldn’t have to find the strength to kick him out of her bedroom; he’d get up and walk on his own. They wouldn’t have sex, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the consequences of being with him. She wouldn’t have to wonder, day after day, what he thought of her. She’d know beyond any doubt that he hated her.
Something he saw in her expression must have softened him, because he said gently, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Tell me what you’re feeling.” He stiffened. Closed his eyes for a moment and moaned. “Good God. I just realized I’m Cathy.”
“I don’t understand.”
He gave a wry shake of his head. “I’ve got a beautiful woman underneath me, and I’m asking to discuss our feelings and future. Hell, I want to discuss them. I’m pathetic.”
Do not melt. Do not freaking melt. “Look, Jaxon, it’s not you. Okay? It’s me. I can’t do relationships.”
“Like I haven’t heard that one before. Like I haven’t said it before.” Shaking his head, he began to withdraw from her.
Unable to stop herself, she wound her arms around his waist and held him in place. His hard muscles leapt underneath her palms, as if reaching for her, needing more. She couldn’t allow herself the pleasure of this man’s most intimate touch, but she couldn’t hurt him and send him on his way, either.
“I never told you my secret,” she said. She licked her lips, heart hammering inside her chest. Was she really going to do this?
He merely arched a brow.
“If I were with you, I would not be able to remain faithful.” Her cheeks heated with humiliation. Say it. Tell him the rest. “When I’m ordered to pleasure a target, I do it.” Only seconds ago, she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, had decided to open up to save him the pain of rejection. Yet here she was, throwing her words at him like a weapon, trying to cut him all the way to the bone with them.
Better to see fury in his eyes. She did not want to see disgust. Or worse, pity.
Jaxon didn’t recoil and his expression didn’t change. He just continued to study her. “Why?” he asked. A moment later, his eyes widened and the fury she’d wanted to see danced over his harsh features. “The chip.”
But the fury was not directed at her; it was directed at Estap.
“Tell me,” Jaxon demanded.
Her lips pursed, and she nodded. “Yes. The chip.”
“That’s rape.” At her temples, his hands fisted the sheet so tightly her head was momentarily lifted. “Who is this asshole?” His voice was taut, and she suspected he asked only because he needed a moment to calm himself.
Le’Ace wouldn’t name names. If Jaxon showed up on Estap’s doorstep, she would be the one to suffer. She really would be ordered to kill him. So she said, “Once, I was controlled by a group of scientists and a government official. I was like their pet. Only I wasn’t fed treats and cuddled.”
“And I bet you think the negative treatment was your fault, huh?”
He asked the question casually, probably unaware of her secret shame. Part of her did consider the things she endured her own fault. “I stopped fighting them. I—”
“You stopped fighting only to survive, sweetheart. They hurt you when you fight, yes?”
Sweetheart. The endearment rocked her to the core. Over the years, she’d heard many men call their women sweetheart. Every time, her chest had ached. Jealousy had spilled through her blood. Now she was on the receiving end of that moniker and it was as wonderful as she’d always suspected.
“That doesn’t make you weak or mean you were asking for it. That makes those men sadistic motherfuckers who deserve to die.” Pushing out a hard breath, Jaxon tangled his hand in his hair. “No wonder you hate to be touched.”
He’d noticed? Something warm spread through her chest. “I let you touch me, and I wasn’t ordered to do so.”
“Still. Damn it!” Curse after curse exploded from his lips, not screams but whispers, and somehow all the more powerful because of that. “Every time they commanded you to do it, it was goddamn rape.” His gaze bored into her, hot and probing. “You are not going back to those bastards, do you understand?” Not giving her time to answer, he growled, “Give me their names.”
“The men?”
“Yes. All of them.”
“They’re dead.”
“Someone controls you now. He called you. You’ve admitted it. I want his name.”
“You’re going to what? Hunt him down? Kill him?”