Marcus, page 7
“Enough.” Marcus jerked his head. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”
“How’d you get Elle to let you carry her?” Shaw asked as they headed through the library.
“I didn’t give her a choice.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Claudia snapped.
Elle cleared her throat. “Marcus, I can walk.”
He ignored her.
Moments later, they exited out the front door of the library. The team hurried down the street. Elle braced her hands on Marcus’ back to stop bouncing all over the place. He was all rock-hard muscle under her palms.
The sun was headed rapidly toward the western horizon and the shadows were growing. She swallowed the lump in her throat. They did not want to be here once dark hit. She’d heard rumors of alien beasts that only came out at night and left nothing behind but bones picked clean of flesh.
They moved along the street, Gabe and Zeke ahead, weapons up.
Then she heard the canids.
Elle swiveled her head and saw the pack running at full speed, leaping over anything in their path. God, they never gave up.
Cruz stopped and swiveled. He pulled a grenade from his belt, armed it and tossed it with his good arm toward the canids.
The creatures suddenly started howling, some dropping to the ground, their heads between their paws. Others turned in circles, disoriented.
Elle frowned. She hadn’t seen an explosion?
“Sonic grenade,” Marcus said.
But a few of the canids made it through, their mouths open, teeth bared.
“Fuck.” Cruz scrambled to get his carbine aimed.
Suddenly, a black bolt whistled though the air and slammed through the head of the lead canid. The animal dropped, tripping the canid behind it.
More bolts came in quick succession. One, two, three.
The canids at the back of the group skidded to a halt, wary. By then, Gabe and Zeke were in position and laid down a barrage of laser fire.
Cruz stood still, his gaze searching the rooftops. Elle swiveled enough to get a quick glimpse of a lean figure leaping between two buildings. Then the figure was gone, swallowed by the shadows.
“Let’s go!” Marcus barked, jostling her.
Elle watched Cruz scan the buildings once more before he cursed and ran to the closest dead canid. He yanked out the bolt, then ran back to join the group.
Moving at a fast jog, it didn’t take long before Elle saw trees and waist-high grass.
She felt a rush of air and she was suddenly flipped over and set on her feet. Ahead, the quadcopter was coming in to land.
Gabe leaped up first and helped Cruz up. Shaw and Zeke helped a scowling Claudia onto the copter. Next, Marcus handed Elle up to Gabe.
As soon as Marcus climbed aboard, the Hawk lifted off.
She heard the distant roar of the rex as the copter turned and headed toward the setting sun.
Shaw started checking a protesting Claudia’s leg while Gabe tore open a first-aid kit and wrapped a white bandage around Cruz’s bleeding arm.
Marcus stood, one hand gripping the handholds above his head, staring at the floor. His other hand was held in a tight fist at his side.
Elle sat on the edge of the chair and swallowed. She wasn’t an idiot. She felt the rage pulsing off him. She caught Shaw’s gaze. He gave her a wink, but she saw sympathy swimming in his eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
The rasp of Marcus’ voice was so low she barely heard him. His tone was so icy-cold it sent a violent shiver through her.
“No. The rex just ripped my armor—”
Marcus spun, his green eyes blazing. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”
Elle opened her mouth. Closed it. She couldn’t seem to make any words come out. Funny that she felt more afraid now than she had when the rex was shaking her around like a toy. She cleared her throat. “Saving you. And the others.”
“By making yourself rex bait?”
Cruz stirred. “Marcus—”
“Shut it, Cruz.”
Marcus strode forward until Elle found her nose pressed to his body armor.
“Never again,” he ground out. “No more missions. No more wrestling with canids. No more rexes even a mile near you.”
The air caught in her chest. “Marcus—”
He snatched her into his arms. “Be quiet.” He sank down at the back of the copter, his back to the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “Don’t say anything because I’m too fucking angry.” He rested his chin on top of her head and pulled her tight against him. “I’ve got more to say…back at base.”
Elle caught Claudia’s gaze. The other woman looked like she was trying to smother a smile. Elle didn’t know what she found so funny.
Elle tried again. “Marcus—”
He moved his head so his lips were pressed against her ear. His deep voice was pitched only for her to hear. “Quiet. Otherwise I’ll strip those fatigues off you, turn you over my knee and spank you right here.”
She knew her eyes must be bugging out of her head. And it had to be so, so wrong that she felt a rush of warmth through her belly. Even with the fury pulsating off him, and his very intimate threat, she knew he’d never hurt her.
She settled back against him and figured she may as well enjoy the feel of being in his arms.
Because who knew what she’d have to deal with once they got back to base.
Chapter Nine
As the Hawk descended onto the landing pads, Marcus still felt fury surging through his blood stream in a molten rush.
He kept seeing Elle clutched in the rex’s claws and reflexively, his arms tightened around her. How easily she could have been snuffed out. What would he fight for then?
Finn, the Hawk pilot, leaned back from the cockpit, his blond hair almost brushing his shoulders. The man was magic with the quadcopters. “Welcome home, Hell Squad. Always a pleasure.”
Zeke groaned. “Happy to be home. I need a shower, a beer and a woman.” He grimaced and shot a glance at Elle. “Sorry, Ellie.”
She smiled. “Like I haven’t already heard all kinds of stories about you and your…charm.”
Marcus surged to his feet, bringing Elle with him. “Okay, we need to get Cruz and Claudia to the infirmary.”
Shaw was already helping Claudia up. As soon as she put weight on her leg, her face went white.
“Fuck it.” Shaw scooped her into his arms.
“Asshole,” she snapped. “You wouldn’t carry Cruz or Gabe around. Put me down—”
“Just shut it, Frost.” He leaped out of the Hawk.
Cruz’s dark gaze snagged Marcus. He lifted the crossbow bolt. “Who do you think our mystery savior was?”
Marcus shrugged. “Someone still holed up in the city.”
Cruz stroked the sleek, black bolt. “Can’t be a civilian. Not with aim that good. And this is homemade, tipped with explosive and excellent quality.”
“How about you worry about your arm for now?” Marcus could see Cruz had lost a lot of blood.
Cruz tossed him a sloppy salute, one he knew drove Marcus crazy. “Yes, Staff Sergeant.”
Gabe helped Cruz out of the Hawk. Outside, Marcus saw Doc Emerson rush up.
“Who else is in need of my fabulous bedside manner? Claudia is already on her way to my domain and bitching every step of the way.” Emerson tossed her head, her blonde hair brushing her jaw.
“Cruz injured his arm. Possible break and severe blood loss,” Marcus said.
She nodded, then looked at Gabe. “You’re all right?”
Always a man of few words, Gabe gave one curt nod.
The doctor released a breath. “Okay. Come on, Cruz, let me stick some tiny robots in you and probably a whole lot of needles.”
Cruz rolled his eyes. “Great.”
With his team taken care of, Marcus had one more thing that needed his attention. He leaped off the Hawk and as soon as his boots hit the ground, he reached for Elle.
She hesitated, her face more than a little wary.
Good. So she should be. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. She let out a squeak.
He strode toward the entrance to the tunnel leading to his quarters.
“Marcus, put me—”
He slapped a hand over her butt and she huffed out a breath.
“You know, this alpha macho behavior isn’t—”
He swatted her butt again. “You should stop talking.
Holmes stepped in front of Marcus. Noah stood beside him, his interested gaze on Elle. Or rather, Elle’s rear end. Marcus glared and the other man looked away.
“Glad you and Squad Six got back safely, Steele. You’ve got the crystal?”
Marcus tugged Elle’s backpack free and held it out.
As soon as Holmes took it, Marcus stepped around him and continued on.
“Where are you going?” The general called out. “We need to debrief the mission.” He cleared his throat. “And why are you carrying Elle? Is she hurt?”
Marcus half turned. “I’m going to my quarters. We’ll debrief in a few hours. And no, Elle isn’t hurt. No thanks to her own stupidity.”
Now she came to life, lifting her head. “Stupidity?” She thumped her fist against his back. “I saved your life, you ungrateful—”
Marcus caught Holmes’ gaze. “We done?”
The man’s usual dignified mask cracked for a second, a half smile on his lips. “Okay. We’ll debrief in two hours.”
“Three.” Marcus was planning to put every single minute of them to good use.
He stalked through the tunnels, ignoring the wide-eyed looks from the people he passed.
He slammed a palm against his door lock, waited for it to beep, then strode inside. He thrust the door closed hard enough to rattle the hinges. His room was cool and dim. After a year, he’d almost gotten used to the lack of windows and the constant whoosh of the air-conditioning.
After setting Elle down, he turned on the small lamp beside the bunk. It cast a warm glow across the room.
Elle stood there, her arms by her sides, the light turning her skin golden.
He started undoing the fastenings on her armor. He loosened the chest armor then tore off the front panel. He tossed it over his shoulder into the floor.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Shh.”
She huffed out a breath. “I’m getting pretty sick of you telling me to be quiet.”
He ignored her and eased the back panel off. He saw where the ultra-tough composite had been warped and ripped by the rex. He clenched his jaw and rubbed a thumb over the jagged tear.
She sighed. “Marcus, I’m not hurt.”
He kept working, pulling all the armor off. Next, he gripped her simple black shirt by the neckline with both hands and ripped it apart. Buttons scattered across the polished concrete floor.
“That cost me two months of clothing credits!”
He knelt and undid her fatigue trousers and slipped them down her shapely legs. It left her standing there in just a plain black bra and panties.
Jesus. His cock went hard in an instant. She was all slim limbs and smooth skin. But he clamped down on his desire. First he had to satisfy this driving need to know—to see with his own eyes—that she was okay.
He circled her fine wrists and ran his hands up her arms. The scrape of his calluses on her skin made him wish they weren’t so rough. He cupped the balls of her shoulders, then slid one hand down her back, between her shoulder blades, feeling the delicate knobs of her spine.
Her breath hitched. “What are you doing?” Her voice was thick.
“I’m making sure for myself that you’re not injured.” He moved his hand back up to grip the delicate stem of her neck. “Such a strong, courageous woman in such a fragile package.”
Her eyelids fluttered. Her skin was so pale he could see the blue of her veins beneath, the flutter of the pulse in her neck.
“I’m not fragile.”
He almost smiled at the bite in her voice. “I didn’t mean it that way. I mean you’re so much softer than my hard, scarred body.” He ran a finger over her bare shoulder. “So much better.”
She raised a hand and cupped his cheek. “You are a good man, Marcus Steele. I won’t let anyone say differently. Even you.”
Marcus stared into her beautiful blue eyes. “Elle, I’m not—”
“You be quiet now.” She lifted her other hand. “You go out there every day and risk your life.”
“Because I’m good at killing.”
She made a scoffing noise. “You’re a good leader, who always puts his team first. Who goes into combat time and again to give humanity’s survivors a fighting chance.”
“Have you seen my face? It sure as hell isn’t pretty.” He looked down and saw his blood-covered hands resting on her skin. “Shit, I’m still covered in blood.” He pulled them back. “Sometimes I think it doesn’t matter how hard I scrub, they’ll never be clean.”
Her face softened. She stroked a finger over his knuckles. “And sometimes I think I’ll never be anything but a frivolous, useless society girl who thinks of no one but herself.” She looked away. “You would have hated who I was before.”
He gripped her shoulders. “Bullshit. You’re the best damn comms officer a squad could ever have. And you think of everybody but yourself.”
A small smile tilted her lips. “Guess we’ll both have to learn to see ourselves through the other’s eyes.”
He stared at his tanned, scarred hand resting under hers. “I shouldn’t be touching you. I’ve been trying to stay away from you for months.”
“You have?” She pressed her palms against the armor on his chest. “Why?”
“You’re too good for me.”
“I don’t believe that.” She raised up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Well, I’ll just have to show you how bad I can be.”
Marcus groaned and yanked her up. He closed his mouth over hers. He knew the kiss was too hard, too hungry, too raw, but she pressed harder against him, making mewling noises in her throat.
And she kissed him back like she couldn’t get enough of him. Her fingers had slid under his armor at the neck, her thumbs stroking his skin.
He pulled back. “Shit. I’m getting raptor blood all over you.”
“I already have dried canid blood everywhere.” Her hands went to the fastenings of his armor. “Let’s get this off you, and then why don’t we both get clean?”
Shit. His cock leaped, not just at her words but at the undiluted desire in her eyes. Elle naked and wet in his shower… “The water’ll be cold.”
She smiled. “Right now, I couldn’t possibly feel cold.”
***
Elle pulled off the last piece of Marcus’ armor and set it aside. Underneath he wore black cargo trousers and an olive-green T-shirt.
He gripped the neck of his shirt and ripped it over his head.
The air left Elle’s lungs in a wild rush. He was so…hard.
His broad shoulders were roped in muscle and his stomach was hard ridge after hard ridge. He looked like he was sculpted from granite. His dark skin was crisscrossed with scars. Nothing neat or faint. These were rough and ugly, the badges of courage for a soldier. She touched one, an uneven starburst near his right shoulder. She traced another long, ragged scar that cut down his side.
He stepped back and with a flick of his wrist, undid his cargo trousers and pushed them off.
Now her mouth went dry. She’d dreamed so many times of Marcus naked before her. There was more heavy muscle in his solid, powerful thighs. And a thick—very thick—cock rose up, rock hard.
“Come on,” he rasped and pushed her toward the tiny adjoining bathroom.
His bathroom looked like hers. Small, but functional with a white sink under a mirror and a small shower stall done in faded green tiles. Marcus slid back the shower door and flicked on the water.
He helped her strip off her underwear and urged her in. Elle tipped her face up to the spray. Thankfully it wasn’t too cold yet, but still only lukewarm at best. Regardless, it felt good to wash the blood and grime away. She felt her muscles relax one by one.
Then Marcus squeezed into the stall behind her.
Now she didn’t feel relaxed at all.
He was so big and the shower was so small. His large, hot body pressed against the back of hers. His hard cock brushed the cleft of her bottom and she shivered.
The water fell over them and he reached around and squirted some soap from the dispenser.
Then he started rubbing it over her arms, her shoulders, her back. She knew he was scrubbing away the canid blood.
“Sorry, my soap doesn’t smell like flowers like whatever you usually use.”
God, he’d noticed what she smelled like. Her heart did a tiny flutter. No, his soap didn’t smell like hers. It smelled like Marcus. Something simple, clean, with a hint of musk.
He kept scrubbing. “So wrong to see alien blood on this skin.” His hands slipped into her hair, lathering it. “And this hair…” He worked the soap into the strands, lifting the wet mass off the back of her neck “I’ve had dreams about all this hair.”
Elle shivered and let her head drop back against his shoulder. “I’ve dreamed of more than your hair.”
He let out a short laugh. “I’ve dreamed of you naked in my bed—hell, naked anywhere—since the first moment I saw you.”
She stilled. “You’ve wanted me since then?”
“Yes. Those big, blue eyes watching me. I figured you must have been scared to death of me.”
She smiled. “Hardly. I was mesmerized. You were so big, strong…maybe a little intimidating. But I’ve never been scared of you. You’re a protector, Marcus. Anyone—man, woman or child—knows that the instant they see you.”
He leaned down and nipped the side of her neck. Just rough enough to excite. She gasped.
“But what if you need protection from me?”
As he kissed her neck, teeth scraping in the most erotic way, his soapy hands slipped down and cupped her breasts.
She cried out, arching into his touch.
“You like that?” He flicked his fingers over her nipples. “These are beautiful breasts, Elle. Not too big, not too small. Perfect.”
