Lora Leigh - Soul Deep

Her whispered moan as he touched her had his senses screaming in demand. She needed to be fucked. He could smell it on the air around her, taste it on his lips, feel it surging like a wave of heat around him.

And he wanted to fuck her, so damned bad it made his back teeth hurt.

“You know, for a damned careful man, you’re making some major mistakes here,” Simon said then. “Did you forget who she was by chance? Maybe her would-be attackers hit you on the head or something?”

Simon’s blue eyes regarded him with sharp disapproval.

“I didn’t forget who she was,” he snarled back. “Let it alone and tell me what the hell happened to her Secret Service detail.”

Simon grunted. “Strange thing going on there, buddy,” he said sarcastically. “Gloria and the Ladies showed up at her place. No dead bad guys and the Goof Troup was in place next door safe and sound. All we found was a little blood on the back walk and it looked like several other patches of it had been carefully erased. Someone was busy.”

Someone was playing games.

Kiowa breathed in deeply, fighting to ignore the smell of hot willing flesh just behind him. Dammit, it wasn’t like he did without sex. He shouldn’t be so fucking aroused, so hungry to devour that sweet little body laid out like a pasha’s favorite toy.

“Any ideas?” he asked Simon then.

Simon shrugged, his shoulders flexing beneath the dark T-shirt he wore as he glanced at Amanda again.

“Word reached me there was a hit planned. Just as Dash told you. The blood supremacists have plans to use her to influence the vote next week on Breed Law. Somehow, they must have found a way to keep her disappearance from leaking to the general public. Though how they intended to do that I have no clue. Someone real close to President Marion would have to be involved in it.”

The other man’s eyes flickered to the bed behind Kiowa again. Turning, Kiowa wished he had stayed put. She was shifting beneath the blankets, a low, weak moan filling the air.

“Did you drug her?” Simon’s tone was suspicious as he watched the girl.

“No, and they didn’t either.” He pushed his fingers through his long black hair and fought to get a handle on his hunger. “Damned if know what happened. They hit her on the head, but if she was drugged, I can’t sense it.”

And Kiowa was damned good at sensing drugs.

“She’s not exactly aware.” Stephanie stepped closer to the bed, a frown marking her dark brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she had a dose of Rohypnol.”

Kiowa ground his teeth together furiously. “You think I need to pump someone full of date rape drugs to get fucked, Steph?”

Her eyes widened innocently. “With that dick? Duh. I’m certain of it. But I was accusing them more than you.”

“I know what that shit smells like.” He grimaced. He knew only too well. “She’s not drugged.”

Simon moved to the bed while Kiowa felt every muscle in his body tense in objection to the other man going anywhere near her.

She shifted on the bed again, the blanket moving with her splayed, bound legs as her breasts heaved beneath it. He tightened his jaw, gritting his teeth as another wave of heat washed over him.

Simon reached for the blanket.

The warning growl that came from Kiowa’s throat was accompanied by a snarl. He knew what the others saw. Curved canines flashing at the side of his mouth as he moved quickly to push Simon out of the way.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” The low, rumbling sound of his voice shocked him as much as it did Simon.

“This is a problem, Kiowa.” He frowned then, his blue eyes flashing in anger. “If she dies, we’re up shit creek.”

“She’s not going to die,” he snapped, certain of that fact.

“Kiowa, pay attention here,” Simon spoke with sarcastic patience. “You’re not a stupid man. Look at her. Something is fucking wrong with her.”

“Goddammit I know that,” he shot back, frustration eating at him. “The same fucking thing is wrong with me, now get the hell off my back.”

He paced to the end of the bed. Bad idea. The smell of her arousal was like a punch to his gut. Something was wrong, and damned if it wasn’t killing him too.

“Call him.” He turned on Simon again. “Now!”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Man, you don’t just call him. He calls you.”

She moaned again, a low distressed sound that twisted his gut and made his cock jerked in demand.

“Simon, you have three seconds to call him,” he snarled. “After that I’m going to rip your fucking head off your shoulders and jerk your guts out your throat. And I can do it.”

He was one of the few men that would try.

“You’re gonna get my ass kicked,” Simon snarled.

“Better kicked than dead,” Kiowa retorted. “Don’t push me Simon. I want to talk to him now.”

Simon jerked the cell phone from its hip holder and punched a button furiously before handing the phone to Kiowa.

“What?” The voice at the other end was wary, careful.

“We have a problem,” Kiowa reported, his patience straining to the limit as he listened to a series of pauses and low clicks that indicated added security to the line.

“What’s the problem?” Dash Sinclair wasn’t known for his friendly personality or his patience with problems. His military training and danger surrounding him and his family made for one very suspicious man.

“Babysitting duty has gone sour,” he snapped tightly. “She was hit on the head but woke up fine. Now, she’s showing all the signs of date rape drugs with none of the drug in her system. She’s in distress…” Damn, so was he. He was about to come in his jeans with each little whimpering moan from her throat.

“Shit!” The sizzling curse that came across the line surprised him. Dash didn’t upset easily. “Did you kiss her?”

Kiss her?

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“Listen to me, you mangy asshole,” Dash snapped, causing Kiowa to grimace at the insult. “Did you or did you not kiss her?”

“Yes,” he snarled back. “She was getting ready to scream, I kissed her. Now what the hell does that have to do with shit?”

“God, if Callan doesn’t lift the restriction on this information someone is going to get killed,” Dash muttered. “Listen to me Kiowa; you have a shit load of problems here.”

“It was a kiss,” he bit out. “Do you think I’ve never kissed a woman before? It never hurt one before.”

“You weren’t kissing your fucking mate before either,” Dash snarled, causing Kiowa to still in shock. “Is your tongue swollen?”

Swollen? It was throbbing as hard as his dick was.

“Kiowa?” Dash snapped seconds later. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Sir,” he replied without thinking, the military tone Dash used snapping into his brain when nothing else could.

“Damn.”

“What?” Kiowa snarled. “Explain it.”

“No time and not enough security,” Dash informed him, his voice turning cold. “Hold on.”

Hold on? Amanda arched beneath the blanket again, her head twisting on the mattress as she whimpered heatedly. The smell of her juices had his body on fire, his mouth watering for the taste of her sweet little pussy.

His hand clenched the phone as he fought the need to push Simon and Steph from the room. If he didn’t get his cock in her soon he was going to go insane.

“No extraction available,” Dash suddenly snapped. “Proceed to Alpha location and await further information.”

Dash snorted. That was just his luck, no way to get a helicopter to him and now Dash was sending him to the one place guaranteed to get him killed.

“Yeah, right, Major,” he growled. “Like I can get in there.”