"Come for me, Harmony. Give it to me, baby. Give it all to me…" His voice was guttural, so rough, so deep it was animalistic as his cock seemed to swell inside her. "Give it to me, baby. And I'll give you…"
She couldn't scream. She couldn't cry. Harmony felt every muscle, every bone in her body lock in place as something began to swell inside her womb. This wasn't pleasure. It went beyond ecstasy. Her vision turned dark and she began to shudder, deep hard tremors shaking her body as she felt her release begin to pulse through her. The muscles of her cunt tightened, swelled, trapping him inside her. She heard his agonized, shocked groan, then felt her pussy ripple as her orgasm reached its height, milking his flesh, stroking him until she felt the hard, heated pulse of his semen inside her.
He was growling behind her, whispering something as his body jerked and shuddered against her own.
Harmony collapsed beneath him, unable to maintain the strength in her arms. Her cheek pressed into the blankets as she fought the agonizing tightness in her pussy. Her muscles spasmed with each furious spurt of seed Lance released, and each shattered male groan at her ear.
"Baby." He lay against her back, his voice tortured. "Sweet God. Harmony…" She jerked with the hard spasm that tore through her at his voice, then his own dark groan at her ear.
"Easy, sweetheart." His hands caressed her gently, soothingly. "It's okay, baby. I'm right here."
She was crying, whispering his name, and he was kissing the tears from her cheek.
"I'm here. I'll always be here." One hand smoothed her hair back as the other slid down her hip, her thigh. "Always, Harmony."
One last shuddering tremor racked her body before she felt exhaustion swamp her. True exhaustion. Her breath shuddered from her chest, and softly, gently, darkness closed around her.
Some time later, when he came to his senses, Lance gathered their clothing together and headed for the bedroom.
The torn articles were tossed in the trash, the others in the hamper in the washroom, as he palmed his cell phone.
Moving back to the kitchen, he flipped the phone open and punched in Braden's number.
"Cuz, you're becoming a distraction," Braden growled as he answered on the fourth ring, his voice heavy with arousal.
Lance grimaced. He really didn't need to know Megan had a sex life.
"Where do your loyalties lie, Braden?"
There was a long silence as he waited for the Breed to answer.
"Fuck. I knew this was going to happen," he finally snarled into the line. "I knew it. Hell, Lance, my loyalty is with my wife. Period. What hurts Megan hurts me, so I guess I'm stuck with your fucking fight."
He didn't sound happy about it, but Lance knew his cousin's husband. Beneath the growling protest was an edge of excitement. He knew a fight was coming, and Braden did love a good fight.
"She's conceived."
Silence filled the line for long moments.
"Well. Hell." Braden finally breathed out roughly. "You're certain?"
"The winds are." He could feel the answer in the air around him, clear to his soul.
"That's good enough for me." Braden sighed. "What now?"
"Jonas wanted her pregnant for a reason," Lance said softly. "He wanted to use it. What would her pregnancy result in?"
"Her death," Braden grunted. "She's the ultimate killer. Pregnancy would weaken her. Make her vulnerable. Easy to overpower."
"And when Death is in trouble, what happens?" The more he thought about it, the more he knew exactly what would happen.
"She's taken," Braden answered, suspicion heavy in his voice now. "Always by the same team of men. Taken and hidden."
"That team is here in town. They nearly took her last night. We had a tail on the way home and someone is watching the house now. They're getting ready to move in."
"And Jonas has taken a sudden leave," Braden revealed. "He's unavailable at the moment and no one knows where he and his three best enforcers are. Merc, Rule and Lawe."
"They're here, and they're waiting. What the fuck is behind this, Braden? If Jonas wanted to contact the men who have helped her, why not just ask her?"
"She would never trust him." Braden's sigh was heavy. "When she killed the scientists and escaped from the lab, Jonas truly believed his mother, Madame LaRue, was a victim. That she was forced to cooperate with the other scientists to protect him and Harmony. He had no idea the monster she was. Harmony did. When she tried to tell him, he brushed her off, grew angry. It was years after Madame's death before Jonas learned the true scope of her cruelties. By then, Harmony had learned to distrust him. She would never trust him now and Jonas knows it."
"Then why keep me in the dark?" Lance asked. "If I had known…"
"Lance, you don't understand Breeds," Braden growled, his voice rough. "Trust, outside of our own small prides, is not a commodity we have. Jonas knows you, he likes you; otherwise, he wouldn't torment the living hell out of you. But he doesn't trust you. Jonas more than any of us, because of his mother, knows the price of trust." He wiped his hand over his face as he paced to the closed window, feeling the darkness surround him, the hint of a presence beyond it.
The cell phone was secure; Lance had made certain of that. And he knew Braden's was. The house was being watched, but whatever he said now was safe.
"What do you need?" Braden finally asked. "You're a part of Megan, a part of my family, Lance. My loyalties lie there, as does my trust."
"Her safety," Lance breathed out roughly. "I have to ensure her safety, Braden, or someone, somehow, will take her from me. I can't let that happen." He could feel the rage boiling inside him, a complete fury directed toward those who would use her.
"I'll be over tomorrow afternoon." He could hear Braden's determination as well. "Megan says to make certain she stays inside until then. Don't let her out of your sight, Lance."
"That one is a given," Lance growled. "I'll shackle her to me if I have to. She's not going anywhere without me."
CHAPTER 17
Harmony wasn't certain what awakened her. But for the first time since she had come to Lance's home, he slept deeply as she rose, showered and dressed. Dawn was high; streaks of pinks, golds and fiery reds lit up the sky as it eased over the horizon and called to her.
She could feel it pulling at her. The morass of emotions that filled her made her skin itch, made her legs long to run. The walls pressed in on her, and the air around her felt as though it were suffocating her.
And she couldn't stop thinking about Jaime Mason.
As she moved silently through the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a tank top, she stared back at Lance on the bed. She didn't want to wake him up. He made her want so many things, made her want to think of herself rather than the mission she had given herself years before. He made her want to hide in that big bed and forget that the world outside the house existed.
Unfortunately, it did exist, and the need to run, to clear her head, was overriding. Pushing in the code to the security system, she opened the window in the bedroom she had first slept in and slid into the shadows that bordered the house. She was reasonably certain she wasn't being watched. The gun at one thigh and the knife sheathed to the other afforded her a measure of confidence in protecting herself though.
Having reactivated the security system by pressing the device mounted beside the inside frame, Harmony closed the window with plenty of time to spare before the system detected it. She lingered until the metallic lock clicked in place, then began moving. She knew Dane and Ryan. They would be watching from the pines above the house that would afford a clear view of the land surrounding it. Slipping past them might not be easy, but she had done it before, and she was confident she could do it again. And she could smell the Breed watching the house. Despite his attempt to stay upwind, his scent drifted to her.
Smiling triumphantly, she slipped from the area, finally sliding along the ragged hills and shallow arroyos until she reached the open spaces beyond.
She breathed in roughly as the sun peaked further over the horizon, casting the valley and narrow canyon beyond in a multitude of colors.
The land wasn't desert, nor was it really grassland. It was a mix, blending together with pockets of colorful desert flower bursts and shading trees that created a wonderland. Smiling, she settled her utility belt about her hips. A small water bottle was anchored behind her back, a utility pack on the other side. Her weapons rested comfortably on her body and she was ready to run.
Harmony ran until the blood was singing in her veins and her legs had gone from burning and weak at the exertion to powerful and sure-footed. The rough terrain and shallow gullies were a challenge. This was land she didn't know, and running across it wouldn't have always been considered the brightest move. Not the way Harmony ran. Full tilt, the wind whipping over her body, filling her pores and energizing her. She could feel the sun kissing her. The cool, early morning air still lingered, yet the promise of heat filled the land. And she loved it.
Running was the one pleasure she had always fought to allow herself. Being confined made her nervous, ill. She hated the walls closing in on her, and craved the wide open spaces. And she found that here. Civilization hadn't encroached far enough to take away the sense of aloneness, the merging of spirit and land.
Finally, the exertion took its toll though, and Harmony knew she would have to stop, rest. She wouldn't have much longer before she had to head back. Lance would be furious when he found her gone, despite the note she'd left. But she needed this. She needed to focus, to clear her mind, to accept the unacceptable.
She couldn't kill Mason. Even as Death, that wouldn't have been acceptable. Death didn't strike until first blood had been shed. But Death had never allowed herself to become involved as Harmony had.
Panting, she slowed her run until she was pacing, cooling off and letting the blood settle naturally in her veins. She inhaled deeply, lifting her face to the cooling breeze and feeling the sweat that poured from her body.
The memory of Jonas rose in her mind. How he would come to her the moment he arrived from a mission, as though he knew the pain that wracked her body. He would move her from the thin cot in the cells and take her to the comfortable private room he had been assigned. And there, he would ease her onto the cool, soft sheets. He would brush her hair. Sometimes, she thought, he might have crooned lullabies.
"Fuck this!" She snarled at the memories. Those days were gone. The girl she had been. The brother he had been.
"Such language from such pretty lips. Would you speak in front of a child in such a way?"
Pivoting to a crouch, her weapon clearing its holster, she stared back at the old man watching her from the shade of a cottonwood several feet away.
Great. She was so damned messed up now that old men could creep up on her. Then her eyes narrowed.
"You're Lance's grandfather," she stated, sliding the gun slowly into its holster as she kept a wary eye on him. "Why are you here?"
"Because you are." His smile flashed with an edge of male charm that reminded her of Lance.
"Fine." She shrugged, still watching him closely. "Now what do you want?"
"Perhaps to get to know my new grandchild." He walked toward her slowly, his bowed legs carrying him to an outcropping of boulders that sat beside a grassy knoll. He waved his hand over the rocks. A hiss, a scurrying in the brush around it, and a second later a disgruntled rattler slithered from the rocks.
Harmony stepped back, watching the serpent make its way to a narrow ditch, then between the rocks farther below in a shallow arroyo.
"Cool trick." She lifted her brow as though impressed.