Wanna Play (Ghost Unit, Book Three) Read online

  “I think I found something.” Her lips barely moved as she breathed the words.

  Her words softly washed over his lips, fanning the flames licking up from her hands. The scent of her filled his lungs as he inhaled and swallowed the saliva flooding his mouth in response. Woman and wild. Oh how she tempted him.

  Blaster knew he was a little nuts with wanting her. The allure of her female power had been a magnet from the first. However, he wasn’t a total idiot—yet. “You know, it’s considered ‘best practice’ not to handle ordinance you don’t intend to use,” he warned softly.

  The air around them was thick with anticipation. This could go either way. The physical effort of remaining perfectly still under her hands was painful as he waited for her to make up her mind. He knew he was holding his hand out to a feral cat. If he moved wrong, he’d bear the marks of her claws. If she accepted him, he’d still feel the claws but, damn, getting under those sharp talons was about the only thing he wanted in life right now.

  “You’re the one who thinks he’s my boyfriend,” Jas accused and invited. Just the type of statement meant to drive a man insane. Deciphering that complicated little comment added another edge to the situation.

  “I’m good on a mission, good to see that no one drives home from the bar and an excellent choice to burn off that sexy mad, babe. But if you decide you wanna do it that way, you’d better be ready. I don’t share and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  They were speaking softly with mouths close enough to taste the words passing between them. Both bodies held painfully still, waiting for the other to break, to give in to the onslaught of lust crashing around them in a hurricane gale.

  He was well aware this power struggle was old as time. Men have been losing it forever. It wasn’t logical or even fair. She’d placed herself in his space. Sliding her hands around his hips toward his cock was a debilitating tactic. Stopping at that point and giving him a nonanswer to his direct question was the power play and he wasn’t about to give her the upper hand that way. Women won every time a man went Neanderthal and jumped her. This was one time the male of the species would win, even if it killed him.

  “No one asked for a promise, Huck. Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re armed with.”

  Her sassy smile just about did it as she came close to denying she was pushing him. It was a weapon women used effectively. The hint of innocence inflamed a male, adding anger to lust as he suspected she was not going to admit she’d invited his attention.

  A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I’m armed, Jas. What I’m not is gentle. I’ve made no secret of the fact you turn me on, but I’m not asking, sweetheart. It’d be your request. Don’t start something you can’t finish. And don’t think that weapon has a hair trigger.” He inhaled deeply. “I can smell the want on you. There’s nothing I’d rather do than get at that cream between your legs and you know it. But you can’t force me to take without it being offered.”

  Jas abruptly swung away from him and paced across the spare little motel room. There was nowhere to go. Turning to face him again, she leaned against the door. Hands on hips, legs braced, she wasn’t relaxed. What the hell was she doing? screamed through her brain.

  Okay, so he was wicked temptation on the hoof and she’d been in need for some time. Not a reason to be stupid. She knew he was a dangerous man. Violence was obviously his business and had been for a long time. Hadn’t she had enough violent men in her life?

  Not one like this, her body moaned. We want him! We want him! We want him! The damp heat burning up her panties was chanting in rhythm with the tiny trembling contractions in the place that wanted him most. That alone shocked her. She’d never actually hungered for a man before tonight. Never.

  Lust was common and quick to dissipate. This was something else. It compelled her to trust because he didn’t demand it. Now that was a wild-haired thought. Frowning, she decided to test the waters with a little trust.

  “I have a video of a high-ranking military officer forcing a woman. I got out of the service a year early with full benefits but didn’t surrender the evidence. The deal was he leaves me alone and I leave him alone. That’s the only thing I can think of that the intimidation campaign might be about. But I can’t prove that it’s him behind this crap.”

  Blaster was breathing deeply. Her abrupt choice wasn’t a surprise. He’d have been shocked if she’d chosen intimacy. It was his disappointment that was surprisingly difficult to deal with. On top of that, her unvarnished revelation burned through him.

  She hadn’t said it, but there was little question that the “woman” was herself. She’d been forced somehow. The only way a woman like her could be forced made for an ugly image in his head. She’d have to be restrained, possibly drugged and totally helpless. She wasn’t the helpless sort.

  A red haze of insane anger washed over him. He hadn’t felt this type of rage in a long time. It was helplessly debilitating as it consumed his mind and some part of him recognized it. Waiting patiently for the madness to dissipate, he remained perfectly still, his eyes burning into her.

  “Did you hear me,” Jas demanded impatiently as he simply stood staring at her. It wasn’t a dumb-look stare. The intensity in his look made her want to step back. She could swear she saw flames behind the dark wells of his dilated pupils.

  “Yes. Makes sense,” he responded shortly. Blaster still needed a few minutes to clear the fumes of the killing rage from his mind. He walked over to the little uncomfortable chair beside the bed. Sitting, he concentrated on making himself as nonthreatening as possible.

  She’d rejected one intimacy only to extend another. This one was infinitely more dangerous and its effect on him a handicap. He needed to get past the emotions and deal with the facts. Her kind of beautiful made a man stop and stare. Beyond that, if a guy was an adrenaline junkie, much like himself, she presented the type of pull that could make men do stupid things.

  Blaster closed his eyes and stretched his legs out in front of him, his butt on the edge of the chair as his torso relaxed. Stacking his hands behind his head and tipping the chair back on the wall, he asked cautiously, “Where is this…” Blaster paused, and considered the likely issue of the room being bugged. “Officer stationed now?”

  He could hear her start pacing. The small room only offered the area in front of the bed to the sink vanity and back for her use. “He’s at LOGCOM in Georgia.”

  Great, a member of Logistics Command. Blaster absorbed the information coldly. It didn’t matter how high this maggot climbed. He was still the lowest life form. Living off the pain of others, eating from their wounds as surely as the larva Blaster had named him.

  “Reasonably close. Why didn’t you nail him with it to begin with?”

  “At the time I didn’t have the resources to believe I’d survive his court-martial. The deal was, I got out of the military with a clean slate and full benefits. If I die, become permanently incapacitated, anything like that, a copy goes to the Pentagon, Washington Post and TIME Magazine. If I ever call the party holding the evidence and ask for the copies back, it gets sent to the media. That’s insurance against capture and torture.”

  “Good plan. So you think he’s getting nervous now? Maybe your success makes you a bigger threat?”

  “Wouldn’t you? The unknown black girl from the hood is easy to get rid of. A successful actress with hard evidence is another story.”

  “I see your point.” Blaster sighed and his eyes opened to watch her pace back and forth. “His only resource is to intimidate you and hopefully remove your success. Making you once again unimportant.”

  “Looks like that’s the plan, but I still can’t prove it’s him behind the events here.”

  “Doesn’t damn well matter, Jas.” Blaster sat forward, his elbows on knees. “This bastard should be making sure you lead a charmed life. Who cares if you can prove he’s behind this? Make him responsible for ensuring it goes away. Why the hell should you sit back and let i
t happen? Use his ass. We both know it’s him.”

  Jas stopped and looked at Blaster expectantly. “You have a thought on how to use his ass?”

  “Yep. Let’s get some sleep. We’ll discuss it in the morning somewhere else.”

  Jas nodded. Blaster stood and went to the door as she watched silently. The door closed behind him and she frowned slightly. No “goodbye”, no “see ya later” or “meet you for breakfast”. He’d just left. Doubts about trusting him with the information she’d given swirled around her head as she turned to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Passing the door she flipped the dead bolt but was too eager to wash the day off to pause and slide the chain on.

  Ten minutes later Jas emerged from a pleasantly steamy bathroom, flipped her towel over the sad little luggage rack and hit the wall switch. Last thing was to put the chain on the door.

  She usually wore a T-shirt and leggings to bed. Her life history made her a cautious sleeper, but tonight none were clean. Living on the road sucked and the town’s little Laundromat was only open during business hours. Shooting schedule and the problems they’d been having had kept her away from it this week and yesterday she’d just been too sore after the fall.

  It wasn’t ’til she slipped into bed and settled that she heard the soft even breathing coming from the floor on the other side of the bed. Leaning over the side, Jas looked down at the man sleeping on her floor.

  Chapter Three

  “What the hell?” Jas hissed at him. No response. Reaching down, she was about to poke him in the chest. His hand caught her wrist in a crushing grip as his eyes opened and abruptly let go of her wrist.

  “What are you doing?” Jas tried again.

  “Sleeping.”

  “Not in my—”

  “Yes, right here. You’ve told me his secret. If the place is bugged, he knows. I’m staying. Now get some sleep, woman. You have to look all dewy and sexy for filming in the morning. I’ll know if someone is trying to get in. I’m here so you can relax and forget about the bad guys.”

  “What makes you think I’ll relax? The dangerous person is already in the room, Huckleberry.”

  “I want you, Jas, but I’d like to survive the fun. So until you fall in love with me, we’ll just play nice.” Blaster shut his eyes.

  “That’s it? You think the little woman is going to be grateful for the big man’s protection and nod off? Listen here, Huck, I’ve been handling—”

  “Jesus, Jas, shut up and go to sleep. If I were going to hurt you, I’d have done it while you were in the shower and had no idea I was in the room.” Blaster blew out a deep breath. “I’m not here to upset you, woman. There’s no way to prove that to your suspicious mind, you realize that, right? Time is the only way you’ll truly get it. So sleep with the pistol in hand, whatever it takes. I’m not leaving.”

  Keeping his eyes shut, he waited for her reaction. Would she buy it? He sure as hell was not leaving. Well, not without a lot of protest. If she did insist, it’d be a very uncomfortable night. Course if he stayed right here, it’d still be the floor. The flat, lonely, frustrating, hard-on-all-night floor.

  Jas rolled over and pulled the sheet up to her chin. Getting out and finding clothes wasn’t an option. Telling him to shut his eyes would be an invitation. She closed her eyes in exasperation. She was just going to rest a few minutes.

  She woke to the sound of the shower. Squinting at the bedside clock showed her it was four-fifteen in the morning. The only thing she really wanted to do was moan and roll over. The shower went off. Jas was out of bed, pulling on the first clean things she could find. No way was she going to be naked and cowering under the sheets when he came out of the bathroom.

  Sitting on the already-made bed, fluffing gel through the short loose curls of her hair, Jas glanced at him as he emerged from the bathroom. There was no cloud of steam behind him and the little motel towel slung low on lean hips barely disguised the reason for the cold shower.

  Six feet isn’t overly tall for a man. Blaster’s body was tightly packed with muscle and scars. Her casual glance was easily snagged on the map of a violent life played across rippling flesh as he strolled around her to squat at the bag he’d dropped on the floor by his bedding. Golden hair covered his legs and trailed up from beneath the towel at his groin to spread across his chest in a generous pelt. It gave him a strange angelic glow in the odd motel lighting. Angelic and marked by death. Most of the scars were obviously burns.

  “You like dancing through hell, Huckleberry?” Jas asked quietly.

  “Good way to put it.” Blaster plucked his jeans, standard denim shirt and socks out of the bag and stood. Turning to her, he flicked the knot on the towel, dropped it and stepped into the jeans while talking. Hoisting the jeans up over his butt and tucking cock and balls in, he left the fly open as he chuckled and acknowledged her comment while pulling on his shirt. “I’m a demo specialist. Fire in all its forms. I like to know how and why it does what it does and then bend it to my will.”

  Jas didn’t even blink as she watched him dress. His total lack of modesty didn’t bother her. He was so matter-of-fact, so comfortable in his skin that she couldn’t be threatened by his nudity. His body fascinated her with its stories as she watched him swiftly button the shirt and tuck it into open jeans.

  Apparently Barry was partially right in his idea that she could trust Blaster through him. She believed the two of them and their story of a grim childhood. She recognized the signs of truth in it and couldn’t resist a feeling of kinship with the two little boys they had been. It was difficult to suspect this man of being the enemy who stalked her. His was an old soul. His loyalty to Barry and Barry’s loyalty and faith in him were genuine and that bought a huge chunk of her trust in a way she couldn’t resist.

  “Not all those scars are from playing with fire, Huck. I see two gunshot wounds, a couple knife wounds and some cigarette burns.”

  “Yeah, misspent youth. I never could back away from a good fight. Even the bad ones are fun’ner than doing nothing.”

  “Action. You’re an action junkie,” Jas marveled. “How the hell did you make it to the good guy’s side? This personality is gangsta’.”

  Blaster sat beside her on the end of the bed to pull on socks and stomp his feet into the worn boots. “At eighteen the judge gave me a choice. Do the time in jail or join up. I wasn’t completely brain-dead and figured I’d get some leave from the military. No leave from jail. Found that the service was a great place for a guy like me. Volunteered my way into Special Forces. You know, volunteer for every damn dangerous thing that comes along and took every class I could to master the good stuff. If one survives long enough, they let ya play with the really bad boys. Damn, the action there is fierce. I was hooked.”

  At the end of the bed, sitting side by side, Jas took one of his hands in hers. Her touch was gentle and he let her have it. Turning the hand over, she examined the marks on both sides. “These are your work. Badges of honor. The gunshot wounds too. Knife wounds are the bar fights. What are the cigarette burns?”

  “Exactly what you think they are, the past.” Blaster looked into her eyes and let her see his soul. There was no pain, simply knowledge. The worst type of knowledge. The type she knew intimately.

  “Your time with…” The thought trailed off. “Does Barry have the marks?”

  “No.”

  Jas jerked as if he’d hit her with the word. It was a small movement one makes when absorbing pain. “Only you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  “Those marks were the proof that got Barry out of that house and kept me out of jail. They saved us both. There’s no pain in them, Jas. Not for me. Don’t let them hold pain for you.

  “You know the drill, when someone intentionally leaves a mark, it’s a form of control. We both know that control through fear is more painful than receiving the mark. I always knew that, even as a kid. It didn’t work with me. Unfortunately it worked on Barry in the cruel
est way. They knew if they marked me, they had him.” Blaster smiled, his hand closing up over hers. “He still feels those marks, I can’t make him quit. I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Jas regarded him seriously a few seconds. “As a human, I have to put value on them, but that’s all. I’m not some bleeding heart, Huck.”

  Blaster grinned. “How could I forget? You’re the hard-ass bitch-goddess who kicks ass and checks dog tags later.”

  Jas tugged at her hand. The mood had lightened and she was ready to get out of close proximity with him. She still agreed with her first impression of him. He was more in an indefinable way. Sexier, more intriguing, more mysterious, more male…more. She needed space to process him and he kept being right next to her.

  Blaster retained his hold gently. “Wait a sec. We need to talk about something. Soon as we walk out that door, I’m your boyfriend. I’m gonna play that part, Jas. The crew needs to believe it, if only for this week. Tell me you’ll avoid takin’ a limb off when I touch you.”