Midnight Rescue Excerpt:

Control yourself

It was almost midnight when Abby gave up on sleep and slid out of bed. Shadows danced in the bedroom, and a sultry breeze was drifting in from the open window. She’d hoped the humid Mexican air might lull her to sleep, but it had only succeeded in making her hot and uncomfortable. Scratch that—Kane was the reason she was hot and uncomfortable.

He was also the reason she was pissed off.

She couldn’t believe he was sidelining her on a rescue that had been her idea. And Morgan had actually backed him up! A liability, her ass. She’d pulled off successful assignments in worse condition than she was in now. But there was no budging Morgan or Kane. The two men were as stubborn as mules. They refused to let her be part of the extraction team and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

Sighing, she walked on bare feet toward the door. Her thin tank top and little cotton shorts stuck to her body. All that tossing and turning had given her a workout. A glass of milk might help her fall asleep, and if that failed, a shot of whiskey might do the trick.

The kitchen was dark, so when she heard Kane’s voice she nearly fell over.

“Can’t sleep?”

She let her eyes adjust to the darkness, frowning when she saw him on one of the stools by the counter. He had a bottle of bourbon in front of him, along with a half-finished glass.

“I just needed something to drink,” she responded coldly, then walked over to the fridge.

She poured herself a cup of milk, sipping slowly, silently.

“Listen,” he said in a rough voice, “I know you’re pissed at me, but we both know I’m making the right call. You’re in no shape to be part of the rescue.”

“According to you.”

“And Morgan. And Isabel, who happens to know you well.” He slid off the stool.

Her heart did an involuntary jump. He was bare-chested, and the muscles of his abdomen rippled as he moved toward her. He wore gray sweatpants that hung low on his trim hips, drawing her gaze to the line of hair tapering down to his waistband.

“You can be angry,” he continued, “but at least have the guts to admit I’m right.”

“I won’t admit to something I disagree with.” The haughty pitch to her voice made her want to cringe. Jeez, she sounded like a spoiled teenager.

He must have agreed, because he offered a dry smile. “You’re too damn stubborn, you know that?”

“Whatever you say.”

He came up beside her and leaned against the sink. Their bare arms were inches from touching. Abby breathed deeply, only to inhale the spicy, masculine scent that Kane radiated. Her pulse accelerated, each loud thump of her heart bringing little sparks of irritation. For God’s sake, what was happening to her? She didn’t like it, whatever it was. Kane had been right earlier, when he’d accused her of needing to stay in control. She liked control. She needed control. It was the only reason she’d stayed alive all these years.

So why did the impenetrable shield she’d constructed around herself years ago seem to drop whenever Kane was around?

“Look, I get it. You’re mad.” His voice grew soft. “And I know you probably don’t like sitting around while everyone else is getting all the action. It happened to me when Morgan forced a vacation down my throat a few months ago. The team did an extraction in Europe, and I was lying in a hotel room, pissed off and strategizing missions in my head.”

“Poor Kane,” she muttered.

He sighed. “Quit being a brat.” Before she could blink, he’d swiped her glass from her hands and placed it in the sink. “A glass of milk isn’t gonna put you to bed. Come on, follow me.”

“No way—”

His hand was on her arm before she could object further. He pretty much dragged her out of the kitchen, leading her down the dark hallway toward the back of the house. Abby shrugged his arm off as they walked, but she kept following, now intrigued by his sudden burst of energy.

They reached a wide doorway. Kane stepped inside and flicked on the light, revealing an enormous space that housed both workout equipment and a small gymnasium. The gym featured a basketball hoop and a heap of blue mats piled against the wall. He strode toward the stack, grabbed a couple of mats, and laid them on the floor.

“Know what always puts me to sleep?” he said. “Physical activity. Gets you nice and tired.”

She shot him a pointed look. “I’m not having sex with you.”

“I was referring to working out, Abby. You sure do have a one-track mind.” He grinned, his straight white teeth glimmering in the fluorescent lighting. There was something very predatory about that smile. Predatory and sexy as hell.

She forced herself to look away. “I’m not in the mood to lift weights.”

“Who said anything about weights?”

His green eyes glinted devilishly as he walked over and grabbed hold of her arm again. She squeaked when he dragged her toward the mats he’d set up, his big, hard body inches from hers. “Hit me,” he said in a lazy voice.

Her eyebrows soared north. “Pardon me?”

“Come on, Abby. Hit me. You know you want to. Expend some energy.” He shot her an inviting smile. “I make a good sparring partner.”

She started to laugh. “You want to spar? Hit me? What is this, Fight Club?”

“Trust me, the exercise will knock you right out.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “That is, if I don’t knock you out first.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“I’ll avoid your wrist and ribs if you stay away from my face.” He grinned again. “I can’t have you marring my pretty features. I know you’re capable of inflicting a lot of damage.”

Warmth trickled through her at the confidence he seemed to possess in her skills. She appreciated that he didn’t treat her like a fragile female who couldn’t hold her own against a big man like him, but still, that didn’t mean she was going to indulge him.

“Ridiculous,” she said again. “I’m not sparring with—”

He came at her without warning, his fist slicing toward her face.

Her arm instinctively shot up to deflect the blow.

“Seriously, Kane—”

Another attack, this time a lightning kick that swept her legs from under her and had her falling onto the mat.

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

She was torn between cursing and laughing, but both impulses died as he pounced again. This time she was prepared for it. Exploding into action, she scissored her legs and locked his ankles together, bringing him down. He grunted as he fell, then laughed and shot up to his feet like an agile gymnast. She bounded up off her butt just as he retaliated with a string of impressive karate moves that left her gasping for air. She blocked each one, avoiding the use of her injured wrist, and surprised him with a roundhouse kick to his gut that made him groan.

He recovered quickly and attacked again, nearly landing a blow to her abdomen, which she stopped by latching onto his wrist and twisting.

“You’re good,” he said breathlessly.

“I know.”

She twisted harder, but he got out of the hold, his foot connecting with her shin as he moved out of her reach.

She pounced on him with a kickboxing move she’d perfected over the years. He caught her foot in midair and sent her stumbling backward.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she admitted, sucking in oxygen.

“I know,” he replied, mimicking her.

Their breath came out heavy, filling the room and heating the air around them. Adrenaline sizzled through her veins as she fought him off. God, this felt liberating. Kane was a formidable opponent, as well trained as she was, and like he’d promised, he stayed away from her wrist, as well as her bruised ribs, which were beginning to ache. But still she matched him move for move, brought him down again and jumped up, only to have him kick at her ankles and bring her down too.

Sharp gusts of air barreled out of her chest. Sweat coated her skin. It felt good, despite the pain in her ribs. She felt good. Alive. How had he known this was exactly what she needed?

“You’re slacking,” Kane taunted, wiping the sweat from his brow before charging forward again.

“Like hell I am.” She landed an uppercut to his chin using her uninjured hand and, without letting him recover, executed a nifty little jujitsu move to send him crumpling to the ground.

He tried to roll away but she sank down and pinned him with her knees, her hand poised in a karate chop against his throat.

Kane released a panting chuckle. “Very nice.”

Her heart nearly pounded straight through her rib cage from the strenuous workout. She sucked in a few deep breaths, ignoring the streak of pain that shot through her chest. As she allowed her pulse to slow and the adrenaline flooding her veins to dissipate, Abby suddenly became very aware that she was still straddling Kane. Then she became very aware of the hard bulge pressed against her core.

She quickly slid off him. “Control yourself,” she grumbled, rolling onto her back. She was out of breath again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

“You and your control,” he grumbled back, his voice raspy from their sparring session. “I’m really getting sick of it.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him shift over. She turned her head and met his gaze. Heat scorched her cheeks when she saw the glint of dark desire in his green eyes.

He stretched out on his side, inches from her. Without breaking eye contact, he rested one warm hand on her hip and stroked. She shivered, tried to slide away, but his hand curled over her waist and kept her in place.

“How long are you going to shut yourself off from the world?” he murmured, trailing his fingers up her hip toward the underside of her breast.

She swallowed. His fingers had nearly reached her breast when she finally found the courage to swat his hand away. She stumbled to her feet. “Thanks for the workout. I think I’ll have no trouble falling aslee—”

He was on his feet before she could finish the sentence, both of his hands now tightening over her hips and pulling her toward him.

In a matter of seconds Abby’s entire mouth went dry. Gulping down the lump of cotton in her throat was hard, but not as hard as stopping her body from sizzling the second it came into contact with Kane’s. She could feel his rock-hard erection against her stomach and her brain screamed “betrayal” as the spot between her thighs pooled with moisture.

She hated this. Hated feeling so out of control. Not having any power over her hormones or the thoughts that kept floating into her head.

“You lied to me the other day,” he said, pinning her down with a forceful stare. “You said you didn’t feel anything when you were on your knees in front of me.”

“I didn’t,” she whispered.

“You did,” he corrected. “And I think you feel something now.” He didn’t loosen his grip on her waist, only strengthened it, and the warmth of his hands seared through her flimsy boxer shorts. “Your skin is hot to the touch, Abby. And I can see your pulse throbbing in your throat. You’re turned on.”

“I’m . . . not.” The words awkwardly stumbled out of her mouth.

He took a long breath. “Control issues again.”

“I don’t have control issues.”

He lifted one hand and placed it on her chin. Tipped it up so she had no choice but to look at him. “It makes you feel powerless, doesn’t it? You want me, you can’t fight it, and it makes you crazy.”

The cotton returned to her mouth. She swallowed it down. “Maybe I just don’t treat sex as casually as you do.”

“Oh no, it’s all about control.” He dipped his head so that his breath tickled the bridge of her nose.

She didn’t know where he was going with this, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Kane . . .”

“Control can be a very good thing to have, but sometimes you need to let go. Why don’t we try to see if you can let go, Abby?”

A tremor of fear scurried through her. “I . . .”

“Please.” His voice became rough. “Just close your eyes and let me make you feel good. Who will it hurt?”

Me! she wanted to shout.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly. “For once in your life, lower your guard and let yourself feel something, damn it.”

Before she could register what was happening, his mouth covered hers in a kiss.

Abby’s body turned to jelly. Knees buckled. Heart pounded. Kane’s mouth was hot and firm and terrifying.

He rubbed his lips over hers, once, twice, soft little brushes that sent shock waves sizzling through her nerve endings. The heat of his lips slithered into her mouth and down her chest, warming her breasts, hardening her nipples, settling into a pool of liquid between her thighs.

He deepened the kiss and she nearly burst into flames. His tongue coaxed her lips open. She tried to clamp her lips together, restrict his access, but her mouth wasn’t responding to the furious orders of her brain. Kane’s tongue slid inside with one sensual stroke. Her heart thudded. Her mind screamed for her to pull away, but she couldn’t. She was helpless to stop this, and she felt herself drowning in his mouth, in his kiss, that greedy and wild and all-consuming kiss.

He caressed the small of her back, then moved lower to cup her bottom. His touch was electric. It burned, teased, drawing out her pleasure as his tongue explored her mouth. The attraction she felt for him transcended common sense. She felt dizzy. Powerless.

It was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her entire life.

And it scared the shit out of her.

Breathing hard, Abby wrenched her mouth away from his and stumbled backward. “Why did you do that?” she stammered.

“Because I wanted to.” He studied her face. “You liked it.”

She wanted to utter an impassioned denial but the words refused to come out.

He went on, his voice hoarse. “I could feel your heart pounding against my chest. I could feel you trembling. I could taste your need. Let me kiss you again, Abby.”
Yes.

“No,” she blurted out. No, she couldn’t let that happen again. Couldn’t lose herself in that strange rush of pleasure again.

She thought he would push the issue, force another terrifying kiss on her, but to her surprise he didn’t. He just exhaled a resigned breath, then bent down to gather up the mats before carrying them across the gym and placing them on top of the stack. Abby stared at him in bewilderment. Maybe he hadn’t liked the kiss enough for a repeat performance. The thought brought a flicker of relief and a weird jolt of irritation.

As he walked back to her, a question she hadn’t planned on asking—one she hadn’t even considered before—flew out of her mouth. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

His eyes immediately became shuttered. “Relationships don’t interest me,” he said in a light tone.

Suspicion flooded her gut. “Why not?”

“Because they don’t.” He headed for the door. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. I’m beat after that workout.”

“No way.” She marched after him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ve been trying to pry into my psyche since the day we met. And I—” She took a breath. “I told you about my mother, about the day I—” She forced aside the memory. “Don’t I deserve some answers of my own?”

He didn’t respond.

“You expect me to open up to you, yet you’re not willing to return the favor.”

“So we’re back to that, exchanging favors?” Bitterness hardened his face. “What, you’ll go to bed with me if I share my deep, dark secrets?”

Abby tightened her jaw. “Forget it,” she muttered. “I don’t want to know your secrets.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yep.” She gave him a sugary smile. “And I don’t want to kiss you again either.”

Without another word, she walked out of the gym.