Damned and Desired (3 page)

Zorian paused, distracted by Dante. She would not pass this test. This was where she failed with her quarry. Every nerve throbbed and ached to be touched. Sakari thought she’d jump out of her skin if she couldn’t climax. How much more could she take of this?

Holding the rod in front of her, Zorian pressed a control and she watched the tool lengthen and thicken. At the same time, she noticed Zorian’s cock harden. “Why don’t you just fuck me?” She nodded her head toward his erection.

“Because I need to remain in control.”

As Zorian rubbed the tip of the slick rod tool at the opening of her channel, Sakari bit back a cry of pleasure. She drew in a ragged breath. Gauging her expression, he eased up on the pressure of the rod.

13

Kathy Kulig

“You’re doing well, work through it.” Zorian glanced repeatedly at Dante, then continued to torment her pussy with the rod. He took his cock in his hand for a few quick strokes and stopped as if undecided what to do next. Was her trainer going to fuck her after all, or was this a show for Dante?

“Still wet?” Using his fingers, Zorian slipped between her folds, stroking her swollen flesh and tapping her sensitive bud. “Very.” Then he brought the rod to her entrance again.

“I don’t know if I can handle any more, Zorian.”

“Focus, Sakari,” he said loudly, glancing over to see if Dante had heard. Then he thrust the rod inside her channel and she cried out. He touched a lever and the rod expanded and began to vibrate.

Gritting her teeth and gripping her chains she fought the orgasm building inside.

“Slow down. I can’t hold it.” All Zorian would have to do is touch her clit right now and she would climax. She had to distract him. “You’re showing off for him, are you?”

Zorian pumped the rod in and out. So close, she was so close. “Who?” he whispered.

“Dante, of course.”

Zorian locked eyes with her and for a moment, giving her a silent warning. He pushed the rod in a little deeper. She tried controlling her breathing.

“Well, Zorian, how’s the training going?” Tarik, naked and still partially erect, quickly approached with a towel in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other. “I think she’s had enough. She needs to go back.” He placed the goblet on the table and walked over to Sakari.

Zorian slid the rod out of Sakari and turned to face Tarik, giving Dante who was watching at a distance, a fine view of his muscular physique and assets. “Yes, we are finished.”

“How did she do?” Tarik’s eyes lingered on her body for a moment, then he wrapped the towel around her. His fingers brushed her hair away from her face.

Zorian kept his stern expression. “Very well, I think but I won’t know until her first quarry.”

Tarik grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Yes and it looks like you enjoyed the session too.” Tarik glanced down at Zorian’s hard-on.

“I always enjoy my work,” Zorian said as he unchained her.

Sakari was still on the edge of an orgasm. Hell, at this point she’d jump Zorian, Tarik and Dante and she had no interest in any of them.

“I’m ready to return,” Sakari said.

“Really?” Amusement and something darker crossed Tarik’s face. “You better be.

Your life depends on it.”

14

Damned and Desired

Brad Montag really needed to get laid. Considering the way his evening was going and that he didn’t have a special lady in his life, hot sex wasn’t happening any time soon. Leaning back on his folding chair in the small conference room, Brad glared at Karl, the team leader for the Sedona, Arizona Region Search and Rescue. The preppy marathon jock hadn’t made eye contact with him all evening and Brad knew why—his application had been turned down again.

While the man finished his assessment of the last operation, volunteers from the local search and rescue team sat in the visitors’ center conference room and as far away from Brad as possible. Karl rattled on from behind a rectangular table to the dozen men and three women.

With any luck this meeting would be over in fifteen minutes and Brad would find his release in the desert, his alternative release when sex wasn’t available. At the moment he could hardly stand his own skin, much less the people in the room. He hated closed-in places. It made him feel like a trapped animal. This was all bullshit.

I could’ve saved that hiker
.

“After evaluating our planning strategy and search tactics, we’ve concluded there was nothing in our routine or operations that could’ve prevented the death of Gordy Gray,” Karl said.

“I could’ve found him,” Brad argued.

Karl shot him a look. Then ignored him and turned to the rest of the group. “We have a couple of new applicants and they both have experience. We can take them out for a field test but I’m sure—”

“Why won’t you field-test my skills?” Brad asked.

Karl twirled his pen in his fingers. “You have been tested. And your past military experience in Special Forces exceeds our requirements for wilderness survival,” Karl said in a sarcastic tone, chuckling. Some of the group laughed as well. “Hell, when we search for lost hikers, we only have to worry about a rattlesnake, a mountain lion or a bear. We don’t have people shooting at us.” The group broke out in laughter, all but Brad.

Brad waited for the laughter to die down. “As a volunteer organization, you need to pool your resources to save lives. If you’d accepted my application then, with my tracking skills, I’m sure I would’ve found that young man.” His tracking skills far exceeded those of any man’s but he didn’t want to explain why.

Karl held up his hand in a calming gesture. “Even if you had gotten to him—”

15

Kathy Kulig

“I’m an EMT and a physician’s assistant, for God’s sake,” Brad interrupted. “He might’ve had a chance. If you’d let me use my skills during the search.”

“No!” Karl slammed his hand on the table and the room went silent.

Brad stood up. “Why the hell not? If it was good enough for the military…”

“Too risky.”

Everyone in the room stared at Brad. He took a breath to calm himself. This was not the time to go off. He couldn’t negotiate with this asshole. He lowered his voice to make his point. “I can’t discuss how many missions I went on where I utilized my special skills, or the details of such missions. Don’t worry about risk. Many of my missions were dangerous and many were successful.”

Karl crossed his arms and raised his chin defiantly. “What about your commander?

The one who was killed. Wouldn’t you call that a risk? Or an accident?”

An icy lump formed in the pit of Brad’s gut but he stared at Karl hiding his anger.

After waiting several long, long moments the confident gleam slipped from Karl’s eyes and a flicker of fear crossed his face. Brad smiled. “Who do you know in the military?”

Karl looked down at his hands. “My father.”

“Dandy. Did he tell you the details?”

“He wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

“He can’t. I can’t either but it was an accident,” Brad said.

“An accident,” Karl said, sounding pleased with himself.

“Details of missions can’t be discussed.”

“Is that why you retired?”

Brad kicked the metal chair across the room. “You son of a bitch.”

Flushed with anger, Karl raised his hand to calm Brad. “Relax. I’m sorry.” He stacked up his papers and stuffed them into his folders. “Look, Brad, I appreciate your interest in wanting to help but we can’t be liable for any similar accidents.”

“There won’t be any accidents.” Brad wondered if his doubt could be heard in his voice. After the accident he’d lost most of his powers. His grandfather said he needed to cleanse himself in order to gain those powers back. What better way to cleanse himself than to help someone in distress?

“That’s right because we won’t be using you on the team,” Karl said in a condescending tone. “Unless you can stop Arizona from having these bizarre earthquakes and storms. It’s making hiking hazardous.”

Brad bit back a stream of curses.

“I think we can call it a night.” Karl stuffed his papers and folders into a backpack.

“Right.” Brad turned, stomped out of the room and headed for the parking lot.

Outside he took in a deep breath of the cool, desert air scented with earth, sage and a touch of ozone and looked up at the crescent moon. The fresh air cleared his head and 16

Damned and Desired

his anger. A run in the wilderness would do him good. He donned his helmet and leather jacket and hopped on his bike.

Gripping the throttle on his Harley-Davidson Heritage softtail, he cranked it up a notch to around ninety as if the speed could exorcise his frustration. Hell, he was more than sexually frustrated, he was pissed off. It was well past midnight as he sped up Highway 89 somewhere between Sedona and Jerome. Thankfully, there were no cars in sight. If he saw the lights from a police car, he was going off-road.

The flat Arizona desert stretched out in all directions marred only by tumbleweeds, cacti and stands of spiny mesquite trees. The headlight from his bike blazed a luminous island on the pavement.

If
they had found that hiker in time, would that have been enough for his powers to return? He suspected the cleansing his grandfather spoke of would be a most difficult trial. He stared beyond the island of light, trying to see into the darkness. How would he ever leave the past behind him? His fatal error during a mission overseas years ago would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He stroked the tawny leopard fur on the seat beneath him. A curse or a gift? His brother Jake who had the same ability thought it was a curse. Whatever it was, the need was strong to indulge in his mysterious heritage. Stress, anger, sexual frustration, all these intense emotions had worked his muscles into twisted knots, now needing release. The desire to shift was strong. Even with his weakened powers, he shouldn’t have any difficulty this time. Focus was the key. He just needed to concentrate and the change would occur easily.

He slowed as the road curved into several S turns. Was he getting older and being cautious or had he lost his nerve in addition to some of his powers? Brad cranked the throttle and careened through the remaining turns.
Not getting older or losing my nerve.

A shadow darted out in front of his bike, a coyote, loping across the highway. Brad swerved, nearly losing control but managed to get her going straight again.

Keep the shiny side up.
The biker phrase tossed around in his head. He downshifted and swung off the highway onto the open desert. Dirt, rocks and grass kicked out from his wheels.

When he was about a half mile or more off the road, he parked behind a stand of juniper trees surrounded by thick sage. His bike was well hidden from the road. A vibration rumbled beneath his feet as if a tractor trailer was rolling by on the highway but the highway was empty and the desert night was eerily silent. After several seconds the vibration stopped.

Another earthquake? Weird for Arizona.
He was sure he’d hear about it on the news later. The rugged, wind-parched land glowed grayish white beneath the crescent moon.

He turned off the bike, stepped out of his boots, tossing the keys inside one and tucked them beneath a sage bush a few yards from the bike. He craved the change as much as he craved the rush of danger just before a mission or craved the intensity of sex.

17

Kathy Kulig

Then he got out of his clothes and folded everything neatly on the seat resting the helmet on top. Stripped naked, he felt the cool desert air chill his skin.

Taking the leopard pelt from the bike, he slung it over his arm and strolled to a small clearing protected by trees and rock formations, out of sight from the highway.

His hands smoothed over the coarse fur as his mind calmed and connected with the beast who once wore this skin. He pushed aside the memories of the earlier argument with Karl, the regrets of his time in the service, especially the death of his teammate.

The more he submerged himself into the role of leopard, the sooner the beast would yield to him and evoke the shift.

His father had worn this fur a few times but his father’s chosen animal was the wolf. As an
Eigi Einhamr
descendant, Brad could change into any animal he wished as long as he wore that particular pelt and had the desire to shift.

A deep ache and longing stabbed in his chest, missing his father, remembering his tragic death. Like a ritual, he wrapped the skin around his shoulders and prepared for the transformation. His body shivered partly due to the chill of the night desert air, partly in anticipation of the change.

Focus. He had to focus or he’d slip out of form. Claiming his powers back was like working out an injured muscle. Although he appreciated his grandfather’s offer, he didn’t need the shaman’s cleansing ritual. A twig snapped behind him. Loud enough to be a large animal or a man.

Shit.
Years of training as a soldier taught him not to twitch at the sound of a potential enemy. Movement drew fire. He listened.

Footsteps approached in his direction and he estimated they stopped only a few yards behind him. And there he was with his bare ass hanging out for all the world to see.

A woman laughed.

Slowly, Brad turned around pulling a corner of the fur diagonally across him to cover his engorged penis. The adrenaline pumping through his veins had the added affect of giving him a hard-on.

“Do I dare ask?” A woman stood there smiling at him, her hands propped on her hips, giving him a mocking grin.

She was stunning. The one-shouldered white dress clung to all her luscious curves and a gold braided belt crisscrossed the bodice accentuating her breasts. Her outfit, her sleek black hair and exotic eyes gave him the impression that she’d stepped out of a Cleopatra movie where she was playing the starring role. He nodded in her direction and answered with an equally smart-ass retort. “Toga party, right?” What else could it be?

“No,” she said irritated.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.