Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3)(10)
Author: Gena Showalter

The woman must have realized the direction of his thoughts. “Your arm and ankle have been set and both are healing nicely. You’ll have full use of them again, though you might have a limp. You also have some internal injuries and a liver the size of New Texas. Like to toss back the hard stuff, do we?”

Not anymore, he wanted to tell her, but his tongue and throat were still too swollen to move. No, not true, he realized a moment later. He was able to move his tongue over his teeth.

All of them were in place, thank God. One corner of his mouth twitched as a smile attempted to form.

The woman—Le’Ace, he thought. Yes, that was her name. Different and mysterious, just like the woman herself. She chuckled softly. “A little vain, Jaxon?”

Le’Ace. The name echoed inside his mind. She was a devil and a beauty. A savior and a killer. “Just like to eat,” he managed.

Her chuckle became a rich laugh. The sound was decadent yet a little raw, as if she didn’t laugh very often. “Sorry to tell you this, Vain, but your nose was broken and now has a slight bump.”

“Always had a bump.”

“Ah. Well, I’m glad. I like it.”

He’d always been a bit self-conscious about his nose. A few times, he’d even considered plastic surgery to shorten it. The only thing that had stopped him was the thought that he’d just break it again and cause a bigger bump. But now, with that husky “I like it” ringing in his ears, he vowed never to consider the option again.

“Where am I?” He wanted to open his eyes, but his lids were still glued together. Trying to pry them apart was still agony, he realized, wincing. He forced his facial muscles to relax.

“You’re in my bedroom. I’ll answer any other questions you might have soon enough, I promise. First, I need to talk to you about the Schön. I know you didn’t want to discuss them while Thomas was present, but he’s dead now. All of your captors are. We’re alone.”

“No,” he said, succinct but meaningful.

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m an agent just like you. We’re partners now. You can tell me. It’s okay. Jack wants you to tell me.”

Before the incident in Thomas’s cell, he’d never met this woman, never even heard of her. So, partners? He seriously doubted it. Granted, foggy as he was, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the lamp and could be wrong. Still. He wasn’t the dullest bulb in the lamp, either, and would give nothing away.

“No,” he repeated. “My answer will not change.”

“Why?” she asked stiffly.

“Because.”

There was a long pause. “If you’ll call Jack, he’ll verify everything I’ve told you.”

And give her Jack’s number and location if she didn’t already have them? “No.”

“We’re in this together.” A hint of frustration seeped from her tone. “Me and you.”

“Again, no. We’re not. End of conversation.” Every part of his body throbbed; he couldn’t move, even upon threat of death. Friend or enemy, she could do whatever she wanted to him, and he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

Though he didn’t have the use of his eyes, he took stock of his surroundings with his other senses. Except for his shallow inhalations and the woman’s gentle ones, there was silence. Her breath floated over his chest as though she hovered beside him, yet no part of her body touched his.

A soft mattress still cushioned him, so he most likely hadn’t been moved since the last time he’d awoken. Jasmine coated the air, sultry and drugging.

He couldn’t recall noticing the fragrance last time he’d been awake, but he remembered it from the prison. He must have been near death to have missed it before, because the scent once again infiltrated his senses, the sole reason he drew his next breath. Yes, a drug surely.

“Jaxon, are you listening to me?”

“No,” he replied truthfully.

Two stiff fingers probed at the wound on his shoulder, and he hissed.

“Listening now?” she asked. She didn’t wait for his response. “How can I help you stop those otherworlders and how can I help the women they infect if I’m left in the dark?” Those fingers softened and gently slid around one of his ni**les, then the other, then over his rib cage, where they lingered for several heartbeats of time before delving to his navel. Still gentle, still soft.

The touch aroused him as surely as the scent had. Combined, they were irresistible. Almost electric.

Her body turned toward him, closer…closer, and one of her br**sts pushed into his side. Her nipple was hard as a rock. He licked his lips, hungry for a taste.

Diabolical woman, doing the one thing Thomas hadn’t thought to do: seduce him. Jaxon’s muscles tightened in awareness, and his c**k even twitched. He hadn’t slept with a woman in months. After Cathy, only a few had caught his interest, but none of them had tempted him to put any real effort into the bedding. And a man with a scarred face and too-long nose had to put effort into it, no matter how much money he possessed. So he’d mostly gone without.

Would Le’Ace stroke him off if he asked? Would she cup his balls, maybe suck them into her mouth? Would she straddle his waist and ride him? Would she be wet for him?

The sexual questions poured through his mind, unwelcome but erotic, leaving him tense and steeping him in anticipation. If only he had the strength to actively participate, he thought with a self-deprecating grin. He’d like to pleasure her.

“What?” she asked with genuine curiosity. Her hand fluttered away from him.

Jaxon lost his grin, realizing in a single instant that he was grief-stricken without her touch. Odd. I don’t even know her. He wanted her, yes, but want did not usually stir such deep-rooted emotion.

“Jaxon?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he muttered. Damn, but he wanted to see her face, her expression, the glint in her eyes. Maybe she didn’t want him. Maybe that hard nipple meant nothing. Maybe he’d have to work for her desire.

Why did the thought of working for her desire not dissuade him, as it had with others these past few months? Why did the thought of working for her desire arouse him on yet another level?

What kind of lover would she be? Loud and responsive or quiet and tender? Either way, he suspected he’d have a good time. A woman who killed as expertly as she killed could take everything he had to give and demand more. He wouldn’t have to worry about hurting her or offending her if wicked thoughts slipped out of his mouth.