"Because you've given me a valid reason why not?"
"Because you've given me a valid reason to allow it?"
"Zoe-"
"Was drafted for a mission under very unusual circumstances."
One side of her mouth quirked. "And these aren't … unusual?"
Rebel stomped closer to her. Actually loomed over her. Channeling his outlaw ancestors like this had made more than a few men quake, but the saucy little wench just widened her eyes and tugged that sweet mouth a little higher.
"Stop it," he said from locked teeth.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me like that." He added, after her breathless tone fully hit his consciousness. "And sounding like that."
"Like what?" She was goading him now but there was no defense against it. The way she worked her lips together, dragging his stare toward them. The way she pressed a little closer, letting him inhale her essence, some light flowery body spray mixed with the earthier tang of her sweat. The way she reached across the inches between them, skimming fingertips over the back of his hand. "Like I don't ‘have what it takes' to keep my cool around a guy like Royce?"
Behind him, Z and Garrett snickered. To his right, Kell did the same. There was no sound from Rhett-yet. He imagined the ass munch just bided his time, waiting for the ideal moment to fire off his own ridicule.
He didn't care.
All he could think about was leaning deeper in, seizing the back of Brynn Monet's gorgeous goddess head, and positioning her to receive his tongue straight down the wet heaven of her throat.
Exactly what Nyles would do to her. And worse.
"The answer's still no."
Especially now, in this special moment of a hell, and all the disgusting visions that had brought it on. Especially as she quit the come-fuck-me lips thing, opting for an incensed pout that was even more kissable.
"And that's still not an acceptable answer."
Kissing fantasies be damned. He tossed those aside. Replaced them with an image of marching her back into the bedroom, shoving down her cute yoga pants, throwing her over his knee, and reddening her taut little ass-at discipline-level impact. He was so incensed, the fantasy didn't even include a happy ending for them.
Almost.
Damn. He needed to curb his fucking libido-five minutes ago.
And as the appropriate saying went, sometimes the best defense was damn good offense.
"Hmm. Criminal psych, huh?" He purposely stepped back, jogging up his chin, yielding a much better view of her incredible swan's neck, blending into gracefully sweeping shoulders. Winning choice, asswipe. Now keep your focus on the goddamn goal. Offense. "So … this is what they teach in those courses? To act like a seven year-old, refusing to accept answers besides the one you want, even if issued from the senior officer on your case?"
She paused before answering. Just long enough to make him worry.
"So it is my case now?"
Even Rhett couldn't help but join in the laughs at that one. Rebel braced hands to his hips and bolted his stare into hers-satisfied that he at least brought on her blush. You want to play with the Moonstormer, lady? Then let's play. He let his wildest interpretations of that run across his mind and his gaze. Though Brynn couldn't see the details, she at least comprehended the intent-every naughty, nasty detail of it.
Her blush darkened.
His smirk widened.
You like that, ma petite chatte? The innuendo of it, while stamping his cock with pain, filled his will with confidence.
"This isn't a decision I like making, Brynna." He told it like the truth it was. "But we're all going to be under a lot of pressure-"
"I can handle pressure."
El tapped a finger on the air. "That girl can handle the pressure!"
Brynn lifted her chin.
Rebel didn't make a secret of his frown.
"You won't be coddled."
She glared. Insulted? "I don't do coddled."
El lifted another finger. "She hates being coddled."
Rhett huffed. Snarled. Pressed over her again, nearly hunching his shoulders, feeling like a goddamn ape. The little fool only stared back with eyes full of Olympus's own lightning. Fuck. The only thing that seemed to faze her was the unspoken promise of spankings. A lot of spankings.
And now, every time his eyes closed, the only way he kept envisioning her.
And wouldn't that be a dandy way to start a mission with her?
You're not starting anything with her, you moron!
The charge stabbed into him enough to drive him backward, gaining the necessary distance from her for rational thought. Or so he assumed. Now standing next to Double-Oh again, he grabbed his friend by the elbow then jerked a nod over the path he'd just come, silently enlisting his friend to back him the hell up with their cute but crazy resident redhead.
Wasn't happening.
Rhett flung a stare like he'd chugged the bloody Kool-Aid, confusion twisting his all-too-pretty features. "Reb, I've always got your back, man … but what's this about?"
His jaw didn't drop often. He saved that special reaction for times just like this. "Are you fucking joking?"
"Are you?"
He forced his jaw back up, closing it on grinding teeth. Actually took his time about it, just in case Rhett wanted to let him in on the psych-out. "She has no fucking field experience!"
Rhett released an enduring sigh. "Not a stitch. But she does have a point. Neither did Zoe. But without her, Shay might still be the filet of the day inside that D.C. ware-"
Too late, the idiot realized what kind of a red cape that'd throw in front of the bull they were still barely calling Shay. Sure enough, Bommer swung fully around and kicked out, flipping the couch all the way over onto its side, then left the room by stomping up and over the destroyed furniture-
Not before burying one more fist in the wall.
Rebel expelled a hard breath. He admitted-very secretly-to a wash of confusion at Shay's torment. To have that kind of love for a woman … for anyone … what must it be like? He'd been alive for close to thirty years and was damn sure he'd never felt anything close to it, or ever would. He'd never even missed it, either. And wasn't that just poetic? The hell of his childhood had simply replaced its curse in his adulthood. Deeper scars were easier to cover. They were nothing like the pain he watched slithering up every inch of I-Man's back, sinking fangs deeper with every step Shay took through the dining room, to finally escape outside. Nothing like the clawed, desperate hand the man drove through his hair as dawn peeked over the crags of Red Rock Canyon, the sky's cheerful glow like a full-blown mockery.
No more confusion. The answer blared clear as the emerging light of the day. Loving anyone like that wasn't just an ability he didn't have; it was a burden he didn't want. Ever.
That did him no good with the problem of Brynna Monet.
And her goddess's magic.
And her wild-ass notions about what "helping" a friend entailed.
And the fact that she now walked over with an arm hooked beneath Rhett's-apparently enlisting him on her side, too.
"What the fuck?" He glowered at Double-Oh as they stepped over. "I'm distracted for a second by I-Man hurling couches across the room, and you're now on her side?"
Rhett flashed his best blasé smirk. Asswipe. It was the same look he used to charm women right out of their panties, everywhere they went-but the idea of Brynn's lacy bits in Double-Oh's pocket made him want to puke.
"Just so we're all straight, I've always been on her side."
Rhett let him have it eye-to-eye without a chaser of wimp, but if the guy thought that got him off any easier, he was vastly mistaken.
"We're not all straight," Rebel snarled. "This mission-"
"Mission?" his friend rejoined. "I haven't heard anything about a ‘mission'. Last I knew, we were headed for some nice, no-stress down time out in Texas-especially if we have some extra support along in the way of getting on with the locals."
A few layers of his tooth enamel disappeared as he bit down. "You're seriously going with that, huh?"
Rhett didn't even give that a shrug of reply. "Brynn's come up with a good idea for mitigating your concerns about the situation."
He slid a wry look toward the sweet-smiling woman. "Is that so?" The big bad wolf gig wasn't gaining him traction. Maybe smooth panther was the way to go. Her continued geniality was definitely encouraging.
"You object to my inexperience, my unpreparedness, and my … innocence." From the last, she visibly held back a giggle. "Is that all correct, Sergeant?"