Cynthia Eden

Sharpshooter


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his head and asked, “Why?”

      She blinked; then her blond eyebrows rose in confusion.

      “Why me?” he asked her. He should have probably just kept quiet, but, hell, he was no prize. His body was scarred…sliced open, literally. He’d been caught by the enemy more times than he wanted to count. And during one bloody, pain-filled capture, he’d been sure that death would take him.

      His captors had tied him up and come at him with a knife. They’d wanted information. He hadn’t given it to them, so they’d sliced him over and over on his stomach, his chest. Cuts meant to break him.

      But he’d gotten away.

      They’d died.

      There was nothing light or easy about him—nothing safe.

      So why in the hell did Sydney want to be with him? She could have anyone.

      “What do you mean?” Sydney still seemed confused.

      She was so beautiful. Fragile, though that delicacy was a deception, he knew.

      “Why was it me…and not someone else?” Not that guy in the bar who’d had his hands all over her. Sydney could have taken another lover over the past two years. She hadn’t. He knew because he always watched her too closely.

      If she had tried to take another lover, what would he have done?

       Better not think about it.

      With her, his control could be a delicate thing. If she’d actually turned to another, Gunner wasn’t sure that his control would have lasted. That other guy would have found himself in a battle.

      “I’m with you because you remind me that I’m alive.”

      Her smile seemed bittersweet. “When I’m with you, I feel. I want. I need.”

      He felt too much when he was with her. That was dangerous—for them both.

      “I don’t like being back here,” she told him quietly, “but I’m glad that I’m with you.” She rose onto her toes. Her lips brushed over his. “I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time.”

      He’d been rough with her before, so hungry and desperate. This time, before the mission started, he was determined to use care with her. She deserved care.

      Gunner lifted her up. Held her in his arms and then took her to that big, giant bed. He laid her down, slowly stripped her, kissed every inch of flesh that was revealed to him, and he kept a stranglehold on his control.

      This time, he’d show her the way things were supposed to be between them. This time, it would all be for her.

      He kissed her breasts, loving the tight peaks of her nipples. Like candy. So good and sweet and perfect for his mouth. Her stomach dipped down, and he explored all of her, sliding his fingers gently over her skin, over her sensitive core.

      She arched against him, whispering his name. He kept touching her, kissing and enjoying the silken feel of her skin.

      “Gunner, I want you.”

      Those were the words he needed. He’d never be a stand-in for a ghost, but Sydney wasn’t asking for a stand-in. She wanted him.

      He pulled away from her just long enough to push down his jeans. Then he positioned his body between her thighs. One strong thrust—yes—and he drove into her, pleasure pulsing along his aroused length.

      Her legs wrapped around him. She urged him to thrust deeper, harder, and he gave in to her. Moving quickly, wanting to give her as much pleasure as she could stand, wanting to give her everything.

      When her body tensed beneath his, he knew her release was close. His spine tingled, his body tightened, but he forced himself to hold back.

      He needed to feel her pleasure first.

      Then she was gasping, calling his name, and her nails were scoring his shoulders. The pleasure washed across her face, brightening her eyes and flushing her cheeks.

      Only then did he give in to his own need. He drove into her and let go.

      The climax ripped through him, just as strong as the pleasure he’d gotten the night before.

      He’d always known that Sydney was a dangerous woman, but he hadn’t realized that once he’d had a taste of the paradise she offered, there would be no turning back.

      THE RAP SOUNDED on their door an hour later. Gunner glanced up to see Sydney coming out of the shower. Her hair was still wet, and her clothes clung tightly to her body.

      “Must be Cale…or Logan,” she said, glancing toward the door.

      Logan would know what they’d been up to. Even though they’d tried to fix the wrecked bed, Gunner knew that the minute Logan looked into his eyes, he would know.

      Logan was his friend, and the man could read him too well.

      Logan also knew well enough not to say a damn word that would make Sydney feel uncomfortable.

      Gunner rose and headed for the door. He checked through the peephole and saw Logan staring straight ahead. After opening the door, Gunner stepped back so that Logan could enter.

      Their team leader stalked inside, his body tight with tension.

      Frowning, Gunner locked the door behind him. “Did you get a visual?” Sydney asked as she approached him.

      Logan gave a grim nod.

      Then Gunner saw Logan’s gaze sweep from Sydney, to the bed, to Gunner.

      Logan’s stare was…guarded. No emotion.

      Gunner’s gut clenched.

      “Is Cale coming in for the update?” Sydney glanced toward the door. “I’m sure he needs to hear—”

      “I need to talk to the two of you first.” Logan’s words were emotionless. Just like his eyes.

      Gunner didn’t like where this scene was going.

      “Mercer…Mercer is the one who handed down this job. He asked specifically for our team to handle the mission.”

      “We are the best,” Sydney said, grinning a bit.

      Logan didn’t smile. “He had a tip about the hostage, and he wanted us to follow up. I wanted to get a visual before I passed on the suspicions to the team.”

      “Just what kind of suspicions are we talking about?”

      Gunner crossed his hands over his chest and waited.

      Sydney came to his side. Her grin was gone. Her shoulders brushed against his.

      Logan’s watchful gaze noted that light touch. His eyes narrowed, and he blew out a hard breath. “Mercer had intel that an American pilot was being held. A man with strong ties that could potentially be…manipulated by the group holding him.”

      “What kind of ties?” Sydney asked.

      “Military ties to a covert team.” Logan’s shoulders straightened. “To our team.”

      Gunner’s heartbeat kicked up.

      “I saw the hostage earlier.” Logan’s hands were clenched. That wasn’t a good sign. Not good at all. His gaze came back to Gunner. “I got the visual confirmation that we needed.”

      Why wasn’t he just coming out and saying—

      “The hostage…it’s Slade.”

      Sydney’s body swayed next to him, and Gunner automatically reached out, wrapping his hands around her shoulders.

      Then he froze.

       Slade?

      “He’s thinner. His hair’s longer. He’s got a beard and a limp but…it’s