Genesis (The Evolutioneers Book 1), page 15
“Chase is a good teacher.” She hurried over to the weapons cabinet and closed up shop to make a hasty escape.
“I’d be happy to show you a few tricks,” he offered and stepped closer. The spicy scent of his aftershave made her want to bury her nose in his neck and kiss his skin.
“That’s okay. I know you’re busy with…stuff.” Lame. That was so lame.
“I’m never too busy for you.” The liquid honey of his baritone slid past her mental barricade and awakened her nerve endings.
“Yeah, I’m, um… I gotta go.”
“Wait.” He latched onto her wrist as she tried to pass him then let go the moment she raised her brow at him. “You’re doing it again. Why do you deliberately avoid me?”
“I do not. I see you every day.”
“For the few seconds it takes to run out of the room. I just want an answer, Crystal. A real answer. What have I done to make you shy away?”
“You’re a busy man. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind.” And by a lot, she meant his father.
Every day, they uncovered more of the web that Madden spun. And every day it became clearer that if they removed him with a clean shot to the head, someone else in his organization would continue his work. As much as it galled Max to allow his father to live, until they had a plan to treat the disease and not the symptom, Madden had to be allowed to continue to do business.
“Come on,” he said. “You won’t even spar with me. Why not?”
A strangled laugh caught in her throat. “I don’t want to hurt you or mess up that handsome face.”
He arched a black brow. “If you’re going to make claims like that, you better be prepared to back them up, Evans.” He lifted his hands and beckoned with his fingers. “Come on. Come get me.”
“Don’t be silly, Max.” She turned her back to him and hastened toward the door.
“Have it your way,” he warned. But then the thunderous beat of footsteps sounding like a professional left tackle taking a run at the quarterback pounded in her direction.
Newly sharpened reflexes kicked in, and she dropped to the ground and rolled. Max leapt over her and they both landed on their feet at the same time with hands ready in a fighting stance. Her heart pounded and electricity skipped over her skin as she debated whether to walk away or accept the challenge.
Max made the decision for her when he threw a left hook at her head, which pushed her from annoyed to really pissed off.
If he wanted a fight, so be it. He was going to get his ass handed to him on a silver platter.
She blocked his punch with her forearm and yanked a metal staff from her belt, extending the pole with a press of her thumb. In one smooth movement, she followed with a strike to his head and swung back, connecting with a blow to his left oblique.
He backed away with a grunt. Amusement and admiration sparkled in his eyes, turning them aqua blue. He rubbed his side and laughed. “You want to step it up? Okay. Let’s see how you do against flying projectiles.”
He waved his hands toward the wall and at the stack of clay disks he used for target practice sitting on the shelf. Two salad plate–sized disks hovered in the air then flew straight at her, one after another.
Smash. Smash. She batted them away with a crack of the staff, shattering the clay into bits. Clouds of dust were left in their wake, turning her blue shirt gray.
Another disk zoomed at her head and she ducked, tucking into a neat roll. When she popped back up to her feet, another disk slammed into her hand, smashing her fingers.
She dropped her staff to the floor with a clang as she bent over and bit her lip to hold back a cry. Pain radiated up the bones in her hand before numbness set in.
“Fuck, Crystal.” Max rushed to her side. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He placed a hand on her back and bent over her to better see the injury.
With her free hand, she reached around and grabbed his wrist as she drove her shoulder into his stomach, knocking him on his back. Pouncing on top of him, she loomed over and pinned him with a knee placed at his groin. Snatching the switchblade from her hip, she pressed it to his throat as he stared up at her in shock.
“Sucka,” she drawled and dug the blade a tiny bit deeper into his skin. Not much, but just enough to show she meant business.
His brows lowered with confusion. “I thought I hurt you.”
“You did. It hurts like a motherfucker.”
Beneath her, his body seemed to melt and become more supple. “Who are you? Who is this tough-talking warrior woman? Where is the soft, sweet, baking, psychic I first met?”
She let out a long breath but didn’t relinquish her position at his throat. “That’s just another side of me. Times are different now. I need to be different.”
His gaze roamed her face, searching, looking for who knew what. “I liked you before. I like you now too, but you’ve grown…distant.”
This time she did laugh. “You’re calling me distant? That’s rich.”
“Haven’t I tried, Crystal?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet and his breathing shallow so as not to get cut. “Didn’t I let strangers into my home? Haven’t I tried working with the team? I know things started out rough, but haven’t I made an effort?”
Damn him for being right. She averted her gaze.
When it came to the others, he led with strength and conviction, but showed a willingness to listen to others.
But that was business. When it came to her physical safety, she would put herself into his hands, no question. Letting him into her heart was another matter.
“You’re a good leader.” There. At least she would concede to that.
His eyes narrowed as he gritted out, “I don’t want to be your leader.”
An invisible force ripped the switchblade out of her hand and flung it across the room. She gasped in surprise, which was all the time he needed to grip her by the ponytail and bring her mouth to his.
His lips were both soft and firm as he took, and took, and took some more. His tongue tangled with hers, inviting her to play and infusing her very being with his essence.
How had she lived these last few months without his taste on her tongue morning and night? And how would she go on without it in the future?
Max moaned into her mouth and pulled her closer, his hand curving around her bottom. The hard length of his erection pressed the seam of her jeans against her core, liquefying her center. Without shame, she ground against him as his hand swept up her body to squeeze and fondle her breast, twisting her nipple through the heavy sports bra. She wanted, needed to be naked. Needed Max bare and between her legs, driving, thrusting hard.
Behind her closed eyelids she could see them. See the sweat pooling in the crease of his spine as he reared up, roaring his release as she screamed his name. Teal satin sheets.
But they weren’t on teal satin sheets. They were on a rubber mat on the floor of the gym. This wasn’t her vision. There was still time to stop the madness.
She tore away with a cry and struggled to her feet on shaky legs. “Stop. We have to stop this.”
For several seconds he lay there, struggling for breath. Then he heaved a huge sigh and wiped his hand over his face before sitting up with a grimace. “Why?”
“Why?” Her voice cracked with her frustration. “What do you want from me, Max?”
Both of his brows rose to his hairline. Reaching down, he adjusted the impressive bulge straining his zipper. “I think that’s obvious.”
“Be more specific.”
“You want specifics?” His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “All right. I want to strip those clothes off you. Take those puckered nipples into my mouth, and suck and tease you while my fingers thrust inside you, preparing you for my cock. How’s that for specific?”
Damn. That sounded good. Really, really, good.
No, she blinked hard and locked her knees to keep her from dropping her to the ground and crawling to him. Focus.
“And then what?”
He smiled, looking as though he thought she was playing a game. He took another step closer and his eyelids lowered with hunger. His voice dropped to a purr. “And then I would fit my body between your thighs and drive my cock inside you deep and true. Over and over until you screamed.”
She swallowed hard. “And then what?”
“And then I’d come. I’d come so hard, I’ll probably pass out.”
“And then what?”
He stopped and blinked at her in confusion. “Um, we’d take a nap then do it again?”
Figures. “And then what?”
“What do you mean? I don’t get it.”
“Exactly,” she shouted and threw her good hand up in the air. “What happens after we spend the night fucking?” She used the cold, crude word to remind her what he was really talking about. Not making love—fucking. “Will your curiosity about us be sated? Do we go on like nothing happened? Am I your girlfriend? What if we break up? Am I then expected to sit back and watch you go off with other women and expect you to let me be with other men? What will that do to the team, our mission? What then, Max?”
“I don’t know,” he shouted back. “I just want you. I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Of course you didn’t. You were only thinking with your dick,” she spat. Bitter tears burned the back of her throat. What did she expect? He was a man; he was never going to understand.
“Crystal,” he began then sucked breath through his teeth. He pushed the hair off his face, his fingers tightening around his bangs. “What do you want from me?”
Everything.
Didn’t he realize she was keeping her distance to the betterment of all of them? If they entered into a relationship that crashed and burned, which was practically a guarantee where Max was concerned, everything they’d been working so hard for would be ruined. The fate of the world was more important than their love life. Right?
Right.
“Just your professional courtesy.” He was so close, yet so far away. “I’ll work beside you. I’ll live with you. But that’s all.”
“Crystal, wait,” he called out as she ran past him and out the door.
With tears streaming down her checks, she kept going, determined to never look back.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Crystal stepped out of the shower and onto the fluffiest carpet imaginable. Her skin pebbled in the cool air as she briskly dried her skin with a thick cotton towel. The ends of the fabric snapped with her rough movement like flags in a storm. If only her self-disgust was so easy to remove.
She passed by the mirror, not even bothering to look at her reflection. She knew what she’d see. Bright sparkly eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen pouty lips. Basically the face of a woman who had been well and thoroughly kissed.
And dear God, she wanted to kiss him again.
She jerked a purple T-shirt decorated with dragonflies over her head. Denim clung to her still-damp legs as she awkwardly twisted and wriggled to pull her jeans on with her one good hand.
Damn the man.
“Why does he have to be so damn…male?” she grumbled aloud and reached for the pot of rouge on her dresser.
A touch of color disguised the heat in her cheeks. A bit of mascara and a smattering of lip gloss finished her primping. The fuss with her appearance was not to attract Max; she just didn’t want to walk around looking like a slob. They were living in the same house, so of course she was going to run into him again. For some reason, she felt better able to hold on to her convictions when she wore a layer of makeup. It was weak armor, but armor nonetheless.
The sooner she showed Max she meant what she said, the sooner he should get it through that supposedly genius brain of his that it wasn’t going to happen between them.
Which is what you want, right?
The tube of lip gloss slipped out of her hand with the thought.
No. She shook her head to clear away the doubt. Of course that was what she wanted. Even though it felt at times as if the urge to say “Fuck it all” and jump into his arms was locked in an epic battle with her determination to maintain her professionalism. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to go out of her mind.
She tossed the gloss onto the dresser and took a step toward the door, and her convictions.
Soft lighting embedded into the rock floor guided her along the long hallway. Her fingertips brushed along the wall, using the rough texture of basalt and layers of volcanic rock as a balm for her ragged nerves. The sensation rippled out in waves of tranquility to the bundle of distress she carried in her heart.
The team had made a home in the fortress deep in the earth. It was cozy, impenetrable, and at times she swore the rock pulsed with energy. It was the perfect place to provide them with the security to hone their skills. In the few short months since the team had first assembled, their hard work was already paying off and the calls for assistance were coming in.
Two days after the discovery of Jeremy Monroe, they received the first call from Sheriff Lancaster concerning a newborn that had been abducted from a hospital. His deputies had hit a wall in their investigation, and the sheriff had wanted the baby found before the media got hold of the story. More accurately, the hospital’s chief of staff wanted the baby found and was riding the sheriff to get the job done, post-haste.
Fortunately for the sheriff, it had taken all of five minutes for Crystal to use her unique “interrogation” skills on the staff and narrowed the suspects down to a nurse who had absconded with the baby. While she had sat chit-chatting with the suspect, the rest of the team had gone to the location Crystal pulled from the nurse’s memories. Parents and baby had been reunited a short time later to many hugs and congratulations.
Despite their hush-hush involvement with the police, over the last week word had spread about their success at being able to find anyone, anywhere. Private citizens were seeking them out to help find their loved ones. A few cases they were considering, others they turned down. Money was never a factor in their decision. The work was for practice and to help those who genuinely needed assistance. Watching families become happily reunited convinced Crystal she had been right in choosing this path. This was what she was meant to do.
And she wasn’t going to let Max screw it up with sex.
She restrained the frustrated growl climbing up her throat and stomped into the kitchen.
The light and cheery room seemed better suited in a multimillion-dollar home instead of where it lay beneath the bedrock. Max had expanded the kitchen once they all moved in, so it now boasted a multi-surface cooktop range and a ginormous refrigerator that held enough food to feed three ravenous men for a week. White cabinets and quartz countertops contrasted with the cobalt blue island and drawers and helped brighten the cave.
Sun and wind power generated the equipment on the mountain. The complex system of windmills and panels was an environmentalist’s wet dream as it allowed them to live completely self-contained and off the grid.
“Hey,” Doc Kelly greeted as Crystal entered. She and her assistant, Alisia, were busy putting away dishes.
As a trusted friend of Doc’s, Alisia had been brought in to provide medical support and assist Doc with her research. After an extensive interrogation by Max, of course. The young nurse had taken the existence of superhumans with a nod of her head and an “Ah, that explains it.”
It was that unflappable character trait and her self-proclaimed title of misfit who didn’t mind being cut away from most of society that made her such a good fit for the team.
“Hey.” Crystal nodded and reached for a wine glass. Using the utmost care, she gently set the glass down instead of slamming it onto the countertop like she wanted to.
Doc smiled knowingly. “What did he do?”
“Who?” She popped the stopper on her favorite bottle of Syrah. With her one good hand, the action was more difficult than necessary, which just made her curse Max even more.
“Max.”
“Why would you think that?” Maybe another inch, she thought, and filled the glass to the rim.
“Because every time you two have a confrontation, you hit a bottle of wine.” She nodded to Alisia. “Just like she hits the whiskey after speaking with Ripley.”
“I do not,” the blonde gasped, affronted.
Doc hummed and strolled to the other side of the kitchen and picked up a highball glass. The melting ice cubes tinkled with the jiggle.
“It was cheap whiskey and mostly soda,” Alisia said in defense.
Crystal popped her head over the open refrigerator door, juggling an armful of fruit and cheese, closing the door with her shoulder. “Yeah, what is it with you and Ripley?”
Alisia shot back, “What’s with you and Max?”
“Never mind.” Crystal scowled and dumped the food on the island counter.
Doc snickered and shook her head. “I’m so glad I’m not either one of you.” Her laughing gaze landed on Crystal’s swollen hand and quickly turned to concern. “How did you break your fingers?”
“They’re broken? Damn. No wonder it hurts so bad. I took a hit with a clay disk.”
“Ouch. Bring it here.” Doc held out her hands.
Crystal allowed Doc to take her hand between her palms. Warmth spread through her fingers, easing the ache.
“All fixed.” Doc sighed and swayed a bit on her feet before dropping Crystal’s hand. “Well, at least I can fix your broken bodies, just not your minds.”
“There’s nothing wrong with us, right, Alisia?”
“Right. Absolutely nothing.” The young nurse snatched her glass with a tight smile and downed the dregs.
“That’s healthy.” Doc hopped up on the counter and leaned back on her hands to address Crystal. “I see how you look at Max. And I see how he looks at you. Sparks, baby girl, sparks. So what’s the matter?”
“Seriously?” she snorted. “This is Matthew Maxwell Madden III. One of the smartest people on the planet, rich, and more beautiful than any man has a right to be. And every person in his life has used him in one way or another.” She kept her gaze on the fruit she sliced as she repeated every argument she fought with herself over the last few months. “He doesn’t trust anyone. You know that the only reason he tolerates us being here is because we’ll help avenge Anthony’s death. I don’t want to be a fling because I’m handy. And Max has never had anything close to a serious relationship. The two of us as an item are doomed for failure.”
