Unfortunately, the damn pistol clattered to the stone floor as the corporal’s hand went limp, and it slid away from them.
Silently, Wyatt lowered Lidge’s lifeless body to the ground. Maybe the other smuggler hadn’t heard the noise the weapon made as it connected with marble, but he couldn’t count on that. He eyed the distance to the pistol, knew he didn’t have time to grab it, and cat-footed it toward the room.
He was two-thirds of the way there when the guy giving the orders appeared. The only point in Wyatt’s favor was the split second of surprise. He used it.
Closing the remaining distance in a rush, Wyatt kicked the pistol out of the bastard’s grip. This time he wanted the weapon to sail down the hallway and it did. Hand-to-hand.
Wyatt believed he had the odds in his favor even though the other man was about four inches taller and outweighed him by at least thirty pounds. Not waiting for the sergeant to land the first blow, Wyatt turned his fist and struck his opponent in the throat, then slammed his palms against the man’s ears.
The son of a bitch was reeling, but it didn’t stop him from throwing a punch. Wyatt dodged the one aimed at his face, but took a hammer fist in his kidney.
Intense pain shot through him, but he pushed it aside. He wasn’t fighting only for himself, he was defending his woman too, and no way in hell was he letting Bug down. Hanging on to his adversary for leverage, Wyatt kicked him just below the knee, making the bastard’s leg buckle. But before he could take him out, the man recovered, delivering a head butt to Wyatt’s midsection hard enough to turn him around partway.
The man grabbed him from behind, and Wyatt countered with a sharp elbow jab to the side of his head. It wasn’t enough to stun him, but it did back the sergeant off.
As they circled, Wyatt tried to find an opening to launch another assault. He wanted this over pronto. Just because he’d only seen two men, it didn’t mean the temple wasn’t filled with groups searching for Kendall and him, and it didn’t mean one or more of those people wouldn’t swing by this area at some point. He wanted to be far away before reinforcements arrived.
Wyatt saw it in the man’s eyes the instant the bastard spotted his partner’s body and figured out he was dead. His opponent had wanted to kill him before, but that was business. Now the sergeant knew it was kill or be killed.
The other man struck out. Wyatt blocked the blow with his forearm and grabbed the sergeant’s other arm, swinging him face first into the wall. Before he could pin the bastard, he got free, going low, and caught Wyatt in the kidneys again.
Pissed off, Wyatt slammed the heel of his hand into the asshole’s face. He was aiming for the nose, but the man ducked far enough that Wyatt got his forehead instead. It still would hurt and cause some disorientation, but it didn’t have the full effect that Wyatt was hoping for.
They exchanged punches, both landing a series of blows. The other man was skilled. He knew to go for soft areas, and he didn’t talk. That was something for less experienced fighters, men who didn’t know enough to realize someone with Wyatt’s background couldn’t be distracted that easily. It made him curious as to who this sergeant was, and what his duties were.
Wyatt grunted as the bastard connected with his kidney a third time. The son of bitch had a thing for that spot, and it irritated him. Grabbing the man’s head, Wyatt jerked it down to meet his rising knee. He got him twice before the sergeant pulled away.
Blood ran from an obviously broken nose, and Wyatt saw the fury in the other man’s eyes. Good. Emotion caused mistakes.
The sergeant rushed him, tried to tackle him, and Wyatt moved. He wasn’t able to completely evade the assault, but the man didn’t have a good grip, and he was able to spin loose. Wyatt linked his hands together and delivered a hard blow to the back of the bastard’s neck.
The man lurched, but he didn’t go down. Wyatt didn’t give him a chance to recover. He kicked out, catching the sergeant in his ribs. The second kick only grazed the knee.
With a low growl, the man charged him. Wyatt spun out of the way, and swung his elbow back, catching his opponent in the face. While he was reeling, Wyatt caught his arm, and banged his head into the wall—repeatedly.
The sergeant pushed off, but he couldn’t break Wyatt’s hold. He could, however, find the same kidney he’d been pounding on, and his elbow connected solidly enough to make Wyatt groan.
Sweat dripped from him. Most fights were short, and this one had gone on long enough to leave both of them panting. But while the other man was fighting for his life, Wyatt had additional incentive. Bug.
He’d failed once before to keep her safe, but he wasn’t letting it happen again in this life.
Digging deeper, he found strength, enough to get the asshole in a choke hold. Wyatt cut off his air, not loosening his grip even when he took another sharp blow to his left kidney.
The flailing arms were causing damage, but this tactic also used up oxygen, and the sergeant abandoned it. Instead, he tried to break the hold by putting his fingers between Wyatt’s arm and his throat. That didn’t work either. Wyatt held tight, cutting off his air until the man was dead.
He let the body fall face first on the floor, and leaned forward, gasping as if he’d been the one deprived of oxygen. Although Wyatt was positive he’d killed his opponent, he was unwilling to take any chances. Reaching out, he searched for a pulse. There wasn’t one.
Wyatt remained bent over, and braced his hands on his thighs as he attempted to catch his breath. Mentally, he ran through his aches and pains, decided nothing would slow him down too much. He’d just have to make sure Kendall never saw the bruises, especially near his kidney.
Kendall. Shit, he had to go and get her. Adrenaline had a way of warping time, so he wasn’t sure how close it was to the fifteen-minute mark, but he didn’t want to leave her standing alone anyway. Not when they didn’t know who was roaming about.
He eyed the two dead men and grimaced. Bug knew what he did, that he was Army Spec Ops, but he was sure she’d glossed it up in her mind. These bodies would show her exactly what he was capable of. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to see this side of him, but there was no way to avoid it.
Swallowing a groan, Wyatt pushed himself upright. Although he doubted anyone else was around, he leaned into the room and did a fast visual sweep. He almost cursed when he saw a figure lying on the floor. It took an instant longer to realize that the man was dead, his body left where it had fallen, about half the distance into the chamber. Aside from the corpse, the room was clear, but he didn’t like it. There was a lot of blood, and he’d bet big that there was some kind of alien snare involved.
He returned to the hall, patted down the second man, and found nothing. Wyatt rolled him to his back and unfastened his pistol belt before he realized it would take too long to open the clips on the holster. He needed to get Kendall first.
Quickly, he checked Lidge. The corporal had a knife tucked into his boot, and Wyatt helped himself to that. Next, he retrieved the pistols from the opposite sides of the hall, and shoved both into the waistband of his fatigues. Now at least he and Bug were armed.
With the important details taken care of, Wyatt went to get his woman. He wasn’t entirely steady, but the farther he walked, the more surefooted he became, and by the time he rounded the final corner, he was almost normal.
Bug was pacing. He must have made a noise, because she pivoted fast, and her eyes ran over him, assessing him from head to toe. Before he realized what Kendall was up to, she threw herself into his arms. Her weight knocked him off balance, and he couldn’t contain the grunt of pain, but that was the only sound he got out before her mouth was on his. For a moment, he was too stunned to react, and then Wyatt kissed her in return. Sweet Lord, he’d been waiting for this moment, wanting it for so long.
He pressed her back against the wall, unclipped the strap on one side of her bag, and let the damn thing fall to the floor. Once that satchel was out of his way, he tugged her closer.
Wyatt wanted to sink inside her. He wanted to savor the feel of her body clasping his, to thrust into her until they both climaxed. “Aw, damn, Bug,” he murmured as he nipped her bottom lip. “I want you so bad.”
Without waiting for her to respond, Wyatt took her mouth again, trying to show her with his actions alone how much he needed her, how deeply his feelings for her ran. Part of his brain told him to slow down, that he’d overwhelm her, but that voice was far away, and with adrenaline and desire rocketing through him, it was easy to ignore.
They shifted, moving with the familiarity of long-time lovers, and he rubbed his erection against her. She gasped, and he tightened his hold, bringing her lower body more firmly against his. Though he wasn’t anywhere near ready to stop kissing her yet, Wyatt broke away to explore further. Nipping his way to her neck, he discovered her pulse hammering in the base of her throat, and lightly pinched the skin between his teeth before kissing and licking the spot.
Bug’s moan was low, but the sound of her arousal was as potent as if she’d reached out and stroked him. He’d known it would be like this between them. God help him, he’d known.
The last thread of his restraint snapped. Wyatt tugged at her T-shirt, freeing it from her pants. He slipped his hand underneath it, stroked her stomach with his fingers. Impatience ate at him, and as much as he wanted to revel in every nuance of Kendall, he needed more. Now.
He moved his hand until he cupped her breast, but her bra prevented contact, and he growled his displeasure. Wyatt reached behind her, attempting to unhook the thing. His concentration, though, was centered on kissing Bug, and it seemed to take an eternity before he freed her.
His contentment was short-lived. Almost as soon as he got his hand on bare skin, Kendall pushed at his chest.
Reluctantly, he lifted his head. When he saw the expression on her face, he wanted to kick his own ass for being so stupid. Damn it, he’d known he had to take it slow.
“Sorry,” he apologized, putting enough distance between them so that Kendall would relax. “Guess that adrenaline charge was stronger than I thought. I didn’t mean to lose control.”
That was an understatement, but once she’d put her lips on him, his cock had started doing the thinking. If he’d considered things for even a second, he would have realized not to take it further than a kiss.
With a jerky nod, she put her back to him, and attempted to fasten her bra. Bug was shaking so bad, though, that she wasn’t having much luck. Again and again, she failed and finally he said quietly, “I’ll close it for you. If you trust me.”
Kendall froze, then slowly turned to look at him over her shoulder, her light brown hair falling wildly into her face. At some point, he realized, he’d removed her clip, and had put his hands in her hair. She looked sexy as hell like that, and his body twitched in appreciation.
For a long moment—an eternity—she sized him up. Just when he thought he’d really blown it, she nodded. “I trust you.” Then she lowered her arms and gave him her back.
“I’m glad,” Wyatt told her thickly. He closed the gap between them. “I need to lift your shirt, okay?” He waited for her nod before continuing. His own hands were unsteady, but he made sure he didn’t fumble as he hooked her up. “There, done.” Wyatt stepped away.
Facing him again, she looked around, then scooped up her barrette. Instead of putting it in her hair, she slipped it in her pocket, then retrieved her bag. It took her two tries to hook the strap back on the thing, then she slipped it over her head. “I’m ready.”
Kendall’s gaze skittered all over the place, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Shit, he’d really screwed up and he didn’t know how to fix it. He shifted, felt the weight in the small of his back, and reached for one of the pistols. “Here.” He held the weapon out butt first.
“Don’t you want to keep it?”
It took him a minute to realize that she didn’t know there’d been two thieves. “I have another. This one’s yours.”
Bug took the pistol, discharged the clip, and pulled back the slide. Satisfied that it was safe, she tested the balance, and aimed it down the hall to check out the sights. “If you can stomach dealing with some dead bodies,” he said, “we can get a couple of holsters, more ammo, and their pistol belts. We can’t hang around here long, though, so you’d have to help me.”
For the first time, she looked directly at him. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
Damn. No wonder he’d fallen in love with her all over again in this life.
*** *** ***
Kendall tried to pretend that she wasn’t mortified. She’d practically attacked Wyatt the minute he’d rounded the corner, and she had no explanation for it other than the fact that she’d been worried by his extended absence. Yeah, she’d still been aroused from that dream, but she’d been dealing with that. Now, though, the situation was much worse. She knew what it was like to feel Wyatt’s hard body against hers, to have his hands stroke her, to feel the insistent press of his erection.
And she wanted more of him.
Nothing had ever felt so right as Wyatt’s mouth on hers. He’d been kissing
her
, not Zolianna, and Kendall hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d been able to blithely ignore the ramifications of that, but not his warm palm teasing her breast. God, she’d wanted to strip him, to have him strip her and if—
“Bug, you okay?”
Blinking, Kendall looked over at him. Hell, he’d probably been talking to her for a while to look that concerned. “Sorry, I’m fine. Are you ready to go?”
He paused, and she tensed, waiting for him to question her, or worse yet, explain why that kiss was a mistake, and tell her that it could never happen again. She knew that, damn it, but she didn’t want to discuss it. All Kendall wanted to do was pretend that nothing had happened.
To her great relief, he shrugged, and said, “We do need to move. It’s dangerous to stay in this area too long.”
Kendall nodded, and after another brief hesitation, Wyatt started down the hall. As she rounded the final corner, she stopped short, her heart catching in her throat before it started to race. Two men lay dead on the floor, but she didn’t care about them. All she could think was that Wyatt could have died, that one of those bodies might have been his. She splayed her hand over the center of her chest, trying to massage away the ache. Just the thought was enough to rip her up inside.