Fallon's Flame

Chapter Twelve

A week later

Fallon brooded while the rest of the team sat in the living room across from Mrs. Sharpe and Olivia. Despite the late hour, he didn't feel tired at all. Still wired from his recent trip to Virginia, Hayashi's near miss, and irritated as hell he hadn't been able to talk to Olivia for the past several days, he felt out of sorts.

He and the team had scoured the surrounding areas for any hint of Montaña or Delancey.

They'd turned up a few interesting leads, but nothing more. He had no idea what Olivia had been doing, only that she'd spent an inordinate amount of time with Ava and Melissa. Like some whacked-out girl-power group. Jack had been deliberately clueless about what Melissa did with the others and kept his mental shields up, though he'd admitted Melissa had sworn him to silence. The pussy.

Olivia kept glancing at him, aware of the aggravation he intentionally projected.

“What's wrong?” she sent him, but he didn't answer. For a week he'd been trying to get her to answer him with her mind, but she refused. Now she wanted to play like they were friends again?

He seethed, recalling the packed suitcases he'd seen in her room earlier today. How could she communicate on such an intimate wavelength if she had every intention of leaving him?

Olivia frowned and turned her attention back to Mrs. Sharpe, the ringleader of their Circus, as Gunnar had taken to referring to their group.

Mrs. Sharpe glanced from Olivia to Fallon but said nothing to either of them. Instead she acknowledged the group, minus Hayashi, who'd been ordered to remain upstairs in his bed. “Doc gave Kisho a clean bill of health. His bones have finally knit, and his organs have repaired themselves. Due to the extent of damage he suffered, he'll need just a little more time before he's back up to speed, no matter what he thinks. I'd remind all of you to continue to take it easy on him.

“And if I catch any of you sneaking him food or alcohol I didn't authorize, there will be hell to pay.” She centered her stare on Tersch.

“What did I do?” he growled.

Mrs. Sharpe looked over the group. “As for what we've recently discovered about the abandoned laboratory, Admiral London is concerned. What should have been an easy sweep has become complicated. The reappearance of Captain Delancey was unexpected, but only because we'd anticipated his return after the drug infecting Admiral London's men was perfected.” Jules straightened in his seat. “You're telling me you knew Delancey was in on this?”

“No. I'm telling you we suspected he had some ties to those planning the destruction of the admiral's new project. That he helped fund that laboratory came as a shock.” Olivia frowned. “I read about Delancey. So he was the team's commander before you all became Circ?” Fallon and the others nodded. “And now Montaña works for him, is that correct?” Mrs. Sharpe nodded. “Unfortunately yes. What's worse, we can't find him. It's like all traces of him vanished into thin air.”

“I'll find him,” Jules muttered. “And I'll make him lead us to Delancey.”

“Yes, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you all about. Though this particular mission didn't succeed as I'd hoped, it has brought us a step closer to a new group we need to monitor.”

“The PPA?” Fallon asked. Just a year and a half ago, the Project's Protection Agency had consisted of rogue Circs and Elliot Pearl's henchmen, assholes who did whatever the scientist thought necessary to perpetuate his bastardized version of Project Dawn.

Fallon and the others had thought the PPA was no more, ever since Pearson Labs had fallen. Then again, they'd thought mutant Circs were no more, and they'd run into several in the jungle.

“No, not the PPA. Rumors of a new type of warfare have been circulating among the Defense Department, regardless of our intent to keep things quiet.” Fallon wondered. Our intent? Was Sharpe still in bed with Admiral London?

She glanced his way, her brow raised, and he immediately amended his thoughts. Not “in bed,” “in league.”

Olivia's eyes widened. “Admiral London's new project, his psychic soldiers and sailors.

They're causing problems.”

“Only because several other nations out there are developing their own as well. We need to quash this threat as soon as possible. We can't afford to get behind in our race to develop the next line of defense against a strange new warfare that's not all that long in coming. You Circs are just the beginning of it, whether you want to be or not. But you're not enough to handle an army or navy of psychics. Not alone.”

“Oh?” Fallon asked, curious about the expressions crossing Olivia's face. The troublesome woman looked interested. Why the hell couldn't he have garnered the same fascination?

“We're going to investigate anything having to do with the group targeting Admiral London's team. No matter how bizarre, small, large, out-of-the-way, or close the threats may come. Dawn Endeavor will strive to do its best.”

“That sounds really grand, Alicia,” Tersch said, a bite in his tone. “But Delancey's our main concern right now. The admiral has the Pentagon at his disposal. Let him use them to do his dirty work. The four of us have better things to do.” Jules didn't disagree.

“Actually, Gunnar, it's you five. Not four.” She glanced at Olivia. “Olivia has consented to stay on as our new intelligence specialist.”

All eyes swung to Fallon.

“Is that so?” He crossed his arms over his chest, daring to hope she meant it. He tried but didn't think he could contain the joy bursting through him. And he wanted to stay angry. That way he wouldn't be crushed if she continued to reject him.

Olivia shrugged. “Mrs. Sharpe asked me to stay, but only if it's acceptable to the four of you.” She cleared her throat. “I'd be joining the team, so to speak. If that's okay with all of you,” she repeated. Her glance at Fallon seemed uncertain.

Jules's anger faded under a huge smile. “Joining the team? Hell yeah. How can we say no to another Circ? Who would have thought, huh, Fallon?”

Fallon couldn't turn away. Was the woman asking if he wanted her to stay? He'd fucking admitted he loved her. He hadn't pressured her into a response, and he'd left her alone, the way she'd wanted. For an entire week he'd kept his distance while learning as much as he could about the infuriating woman. Did she not understand the flowers and poetry he'd been leaving on her bed each night?

“Jesse, could I talk to you in private?” she asked.

“Sure.” He stood and walked out of the room. After heading up the stairs to her bedroom, he noted her suitcases still packed, and his anger returned. “Well?”

“I…ah…I was hoping you'd be okay about this.” She bit her lower lip, drawing his attention from the turmoil in her eyes. “You did mention something about…about loving me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn't think you'd mind if I stuck around.”

“Mind? Mind?” His voice rose. “You have suitcases packed, ready to leave!”

“Only to move my things into your suite. I thought we could be together. You know, if you still want me.”

Hope fluttered within his breast. “You have to be the densest woman on the planet. Didn't you see the flowers? Did you not read the fucking poetry I left you every goddamn night?” He dug his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small box. “Do you know what this is?” Her beautiful eyes widened.

“Yeah, and it's your size. How do I know that? Because while you spent the week doing anything and everything to avoid me, I drove up to Dam Neck, broke into your house, and snooped. I know your bra size, your favorite color, how much you like ice-cream sandwiches, even when it's cold out. That you aunt is getting tired of your putting off another visit, and that your cousin Miguel just had another kid. His wife had a girl, in case you were wondering. They named her Olivia.”

“Really?” Olivia whispered.

Fallon placed the ring on the desk near him. Then he ripped off his shirt and tugged free of his jeans. He'd waited an entire week, and his balls were bluer than Tersch's eyes. Olivia stared at him with hunger, pleasing him that she still wanted him.

Her gaze ventured from the ring to his cock, and the scent of ripe cherries filled the air.

“I love you, you know that?” he rasped. “You complained we don't know each other well enough, but I know what I know. A call to your aunt filled me in on a lot you never bothered to tell me, like how all your old boyfriends have an uncanny resemblance to me,” he added, smug about that at least.

The admission blindsided her, as he'd meant it to. “Oh my God. They do!”

“And we're not that different, baby. I like the books you have in your place, even some of the movies. But don't tell Tersch, or he'll never let me live down my Sleepless in Seattle fixation.

I'm a closet romantic like you.”

Olivia's eyes filled, but he didn't worry. He sensed her capitulation. His beast sighed with relief and resolved to make her say the words.

Fallon stepped closer and slowly removed her clothing, one button at a time. Once he had her naked and breathless, he kissed his way down her body, punctuating each caress with facts about himself.

“I like vanilla over chocolate.” Kiss. “Not into pets, but I like kids.” Kiss. “I'm a sucker for a sexy Brazilian, but only if she has blue-green eyes and a stubborn brain.” Kiss. “She has to know what I'm feeling, because if she doesn't, then I can't very well ask her to share my thoughts, can I?”

Olivia swallowed hard. “That doesn't bother you? That I might know how you feel?” She paused. “When you're telling the truth?”

“Baby, I couldn't care less. If I work at it, I can read your thoughts. Does that scare you?” She shook her head and sighed when he closed his lips over her breast and sucked.

“Why?”

“Because I can shield myself, and you can too,” she admitted. “God, Jesse, I love you so much. I'm just afraid.”

“I know.” He swelled with satisfaction. “But I'm not like the others, honey. Your uncle likes me.”

“What?” She pulled back to blink at him. “You met Uncle Jaime?”

“He and your aunt are staying in town. I invited them here for our engagement party.” He glanced at the ring again. “Now you have to say yes or I'll look stupid.”

“But…you…really?” Her wide smile captured his heart.

“I love you, Olivia Lynn. Eu te amo, meu coração.” I love you, my heart. “Jaime taught me that.”

She kissed him, a real kiss full of desire, of love, that he shared wholeheartedly.

“Oh, man, you really do love me,” he said with a grin, loving the intimacy of unspoken trust she gave him by literally sharing her feelings. Her lowered shields invited him to look, and he heard her say it while she showed him.

“I love you so much, it hurts.”

He groaned. “It really does. I've been going crazy giving you space. Now I need you, baby.

I need to come inside you, right now.”

She pushed him back until he sat on the bed. But he stopped her. “No. I want another kiss.” Before she could ask what exactly he meant, he pulled her onto the bed and forced her to stand over him, her pussy level with his mouth. He slid his fingers between her folds and kissed her there, caught in the spell of her wet heat.

He licked and played, overjoyed to discover her dripping with lust. His mate wanted him just as much as he needed her. Shoving a finger inside her, he hooked the digit to press into her sweet spot, knowing just where she liked it.

She keened and gyrated against his mouth, her arousal furthering his. He ached to spill inside her, his slit slick with excitement. And still he feasted, wanting to feel her pulse around him when he entered her.

“Yes, Jesse. Yes, baby, I need you so much,” she cried as he added a finger to her anus.

Pushing into that tight rim, he stuffed his mate, loving her passion. “You're mine,” her beast acknowledged as she gripped his hair and came.

He let her go and slammed her over his cock. He groaned at the contact; she shrieked.

Clenching him like a vise, she didn't let him go three thrusts before he exploded inside her.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah,” he chanted as he crested his peak way too quickly. Taking the edge off, he stilled her shifting hips and waited for the familiar lust to build once more. “You know, this mating heat you're starting, it's going to get the others just as hard.”

She blinked up at him with a lazy smile. Leaning in, she kissed him leisurely, slipping her tongue inside his mouth with a whisper-light caress.

He groaned and cupped her ass, causing her to lift and lower in succession over him as he grew to life once more within her.

“I don't mind a little company if you don't. But only if I get to watch you get fucked this time.”

Hearing her talk like that amped him up again. “Baby, whatever you want. You're so fucking hot, I'd take it any way I could get it if it meant a lifetime with you.” Long, sharp fingernails pierced his shoulders while she rode him. “A lifetime, hmm. Not enough. Forever,” she said and nipped his earlobe. “And I have a confession to make. While you raided my house, I raided your room. And I have a bone to pick with you about your porn collection.”

“But, baby, they were holding me over for you.”

She laughed, then groaned when he slammed her down particularly hard. “Fine, but don't think I'm going to cater to your girl-on-girl fantasies.”

“Hell,” he said thickly. “Just your guy-on-guy ones, is that it?”

“Yeah.” She sighed and kissed him again. “My guy on guy. But, Jesse, I'm not going to share you with anyone else. You even think of another woman like that, and you'll pay.” He loved the beast growling at him from within her mind. Her ferocity increased his ardor, and he quickened her pace over him. “Promise you'll make me pay? I think Hayashi has some ropes he stashes in his room. And maybe some paddles?” She moaned and kissed him again as she rippled around him. He jetted into her, hearing the love she shouted on their shared, psychic plane. “Mine, all mine.”

“Forever,” he agreed. “Not a moment less.”

Kisho Hayashi tried to bury his head beneath his pillow. Damned Fallon and Olivia made too much noise. And the scent of their need didn't just stop because a door closed or a wall stood between them. He knew he shouldn't have poured his heart and soul into that poetry for Fallon.

Now, because of his love letters, he had to deal with the frustration of his friend's never-ending lust. He grinned, despite his annoyance. Finally an end to Fallon's miserable pouting. Talk about a guy who had it bad for a woman.

An image of emerald green eyes and dark brown hair filled his mind's eye. Firm lips, broad shoulders, a narrow waist…

He groaned and rolled over onto his erection, wishing he could just will the damned thing away. He had no doubt Tersch and Jules would soon feel the same sexual frustration. No Circ could withstand the physical scent of a mating as intense as the one between Olivia and Fallon.

And the psychic waves of lust fanning out from Olivia's room only made it worse.

None of it helped his own damned hungers.

All this mating put him in mind of the one person he wanted nothing to do with. The same person responsible for saving his ass from Montaña's men if he could believe his hazy dreams.

Kisho sat up, threw on a pair of sweats, and sneaked out of his room. He heard Tersch and Jules approaching but needed a moment to himself. Though he'd spent the better part of the week in his bedroom, most of it had been spent sleeping while his body recovered. He'd toyed with pain as pleasure before, but the sheer hurt from the drop off that building had shattered his nerve.

He never wanted to feel that vulnerable again.

Lying there while Montaña's men laughed and kicked him had reminded him all too much of what he'd left behind so long ago. He wasn't a lost boy anymore. Circs had strength, power, and in his case, a rare ability to circumvent failure.

Too bad he couldn't see much about his own future, only that prick who refused to leave his dreams.

He skirted Ava and Mrs. Sharpe arguing, no surprise there. After leaving the house, he also avoided Jack and Melissa showing some skin in the middle of the heated gazebo beyond the garden. Just what he didn't need, the sight of more bared flesh.

He only wished it were Melissa who turned him on, not the thought of a naked Jack.

Though Circs were genetically disposed to bisexuality, needing sex with their own kind regardless of gender, Kisho knew his team only consented to touching one another because they had to, not because they wanted to. Sure, Tersch and Fallon liked fucking him. Jules loved his blowjobs. But when human and in control of their lusts, they never looked twice at Kisho.

Not that Kisho wanted them to, but it would have been nice to know he wasn't the only deviant on the team. His years spent in the navy had solidified his ties with the squad. They judiciously held to the “don't ask, don't tell” rule. But he'd never flaunted his differences, maintaining his privacy. For all the team had known back then, he had a different woman in every port.

Becoming Circ had certainly made them all tighter, but Kisho couldn't let himself completely go. He'd spent too many years on his own, too much time defending himself to the people who should have loved him, regardless of who or what he was. He couldn't afford to open himself up to the guys, no matter how much he might want to. Chancing a rejection from the only people he had left in the world was not an option. He'd kill for them, he'd die defending them, but he'd never give them a chance to turn away from him; he couldn't live with that.

Depressed because he didn't think he'd ever find a way to end his mating heats—what female Circ out there would tolerate a male who didn't want her?—he walked along the trail away from the house. But along the way, his mind grew fuzzy. The trail suddenly blurred, and then he was there.

Full lips quirked in a smile at something Kisho said. Laughing at him, teasing him, reminding him that as strong as he was, Kisho could never conquer this man. Angered, Kisho tried to take charge of the brute, but ropes bound him tight.

Knowing what came next, he struggled in vain to break free of the vision, but it only took him deeper.

“You break free, I'll leave you alone,” the male's deep voice promised.

“Fuck off.” Kisho couldn't handle the smug bastard. Always there, always watching, judging…

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” The male fingered the front of his own jeans, where a large, telltale bulge resided. To Kisho's shock, blunt fingers prodded at the button and slid the zipper down to reveal a shadow of dark, curly hair. The scent of orange spice mixed with the cinnamon Kisho knew was his beast's way of fanning out his need.

“I'm hard and wet. Want a taste? Or don't you want your little friends to know what you really need?” the bastard asked, lowering his voice so Tersch and Jules wouldn't hear in the other room.

Kisho struggled to break free, but his beast refused to appear. Never before had he lost his ability to change, and the loss now scared the hell out of him.

“That's right. You're mine now. All mine, my little kitsu .” Large hands reached for him, powerful hands dragging him closer to his destiny, to his doom.

The vision faded as the dark of night returned. An owl hooted overhead, and to Kisho's shock, a slender gray fox watched him, frozen on the trail several feet in front of him.

“My little kitsu.” “Kitsu”—an archaic Japanese word for “fox.” His future beckoned, but Kisho wanted no part of it. The only thing he could see of his tomorrows: a curse he couldn't shake. He turned and jogged back to the house, needing the comfort only his fellow Circs, his lovers and friends, could provide.

But as he ran, he felt the fox's stare boring into his back, and the familiar words returned.

“You can run, kitsu, but you can't hide. I'm coming for you, and I'll have what's mine.”