Javier (Alpha Heroes #12)

Chapter Twenty

Javier

“How do I look?” Missy asked, stepping out onto the deck where I sat on a chaise, working on my laptop, triple checking tomorrow’s guest arrivals with renewed zeal. I’d already added more cameras and motion detectors and assigned her more security guards. Bekker wasn’t getting anywhere near her, I swore to myself for the millionth time.

“Javier?” she asked again. “Do I look okay?”

Missy’s question surprised me. It was the first time she’d said more than two words to me since what I was now calling “the episode” last night. My lack of self-control and my need to give her pleasure had pushed us even further apart.

I dared to hope her question was a peace overture, and yet when I lifted my eyes from the screen, I did a double take. This wasn’t a peace overture. This was a blatant provocation.

How I got a hold of my expression and stopped my mouth from hanging open, I’d never know. A surge of steam shot through my veins and converged at my groin. In a show of force, my dick went into rapid reaction mode.

Oh, fuck .

Days into our stay at the resort, Missy stood before me on the deck, with her lustrous hair done up in a sleek chignon and her new bangs making her look beyond stylish. She wore a halter minidress that made her look hotter than the fires of hell. The little number clung to her figure as if glued on, showcasing her body’s efficient curves. The shorter than short skirt displayed her long legs almost to the top of her thighs.

911. Someone. Please. Anybody.

Trying not to ogle and failing, I shut the lid of my laptop, slid my Oakleys down the bridge of my nose, and took in the beauty before me. The knitted blue and green zigzag dress was almost translucent, giving me a clear view of, well, everything.

My filthy mind immediately imagined my lips brushing over her inner thigh on the way to her juicy lips. I recalled the taste of her and salivated at the memory. I tried very hard to blink the erotic vision from my mind. I also fought an impulse to fall to my knees, reverse everything I’d ever told her about keeping things professional, and beg her to put me out of my misery and fuck me out of my mind.

After Bozeman’s call, I was strung tight, obsessed with Missy’s safety, hovering over her for most of the afternoon. It didn’t help that she’d become the exclusive focus of my runaway lust and that I wanted to feast on her again. Sexual restraint sucked. I wasn’t built for celibacy, especially now that Missy was on deck dressed like that.

Do the gods really hate me this much?

I balanced on a thin ledge. Not only was I suffering from a severe case of DSB—Deadly Sperm Backup—but I had other pressing concerns as well. If Omega wasn’t on me like a fly on a turd, it meant the attacks Bozeman had mentioned were serious business. I worried about the guys. And where the hell was King? Where the fuck were the nuns?

To top it off, my orders were to stay put. I fucking hated that. The longer we stayed in one place, the higher the chances that the NWO would find us. As if I didn’t have enough shit piled on my plate, the nightmare returned last night. It’d been so vivid that I feared closing my eyes. This morning, as it happened often, I’d woken up sweaty, with my heart pounding like a howitzer, reliving the agony of the day it all went to shit.

“Well?” Missy’s voice interrupted my internal pity party. “Thoughts?”

My gaze wandered over the subject of my obsession. Missy’s dress was tied at the back of her neck with a ropy string. It held up the vertical strips of fabric cupping her gorgeous, compact breasts at either side of an eye-popping neckline that plunged all the way down to her waist. If I just pulled on that string, she’d be naked, and I’d be lost.

Talk about being balls to the wall.

Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.

“You like?” Hands on her hips, Missy turned around like a model on the runway.

I peeked over my polarized lenses and watched her sweet little ass as she did her slow turn. The sinful little dress was entirely backless. It revealed the smooth planes of her back down to the curve of her lower spine. The playful little tassels that fringed the hem danced around her as she completed the circle.

My nearly hallucinatory response to those devilish tassels almost did me in. Come and get us , the little tassels sing-sang in my head, echoing Missy’s playful voice.

“What did you say?” I demanded hoarsely.

“I asked you if you liked my new dress,” she repeated, slowly this time, as if I was dumb.

It was official. I was out of my goddamn mind.

“Well?” she insisted. “Thumbs up or down?”

Was this a trick question?

I forced myself to swallow and cleared the cobwebs from my throat. The first thing that shot out of my mouth was, “Where did you get that?”

“Pierre bought it for me when he and Gerard went into town after lunch.” She grabbed the sides of the short skirt, did a little curtsey, and smiled down on herself. “Cute, isn’t it? I haven’t worn anything like this in ages, if ever. Gerard chose the shoes for me.”

I dropped my gaze down. The pair of wedge sandals she wore highlighted her smooth calves as if encouraging me to run my lips up her legs all the way to her—

“Those jerks bought clothes for you?” My throat quaked with a rumble. “And you accepted them?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Her smile sputtered before she recovered. “I took some money from our stash. You said I could, remember? I gave it to them and told them my sizes so they could buy me these. There’s a pool party tonight, and I promised I’d go. They did get me these as a present.” She placed her hands behind her golden earrings and gave the large hoops a little shake. “I haven’t worn jewelry in—”

“Yes, I know,” I interrupted too curtly. “Three years.”

Her eyes widened and her cheeks gained color. I realized the frustration gnawing at my stomach had gotten the better of me. An odd ache bloomed in my chest when she lowered her gaze. Raking her lips over her lower lip, she inspected her new shoes.

Fuck me. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings or ruin her confidence.

And yet, here I was, doing exactly that.

Yeah, the gods hated my guts. I hated my guts, too.

“Why didn’t you ask me to buy the stuff for you?” I lashed out, unable to repress my anger. “I could’ve gotten all that junk for you.”

“You seem so busy.” She lifted her exposed shoulders then dropped them. “You haven’t said a word to me all day. You think of this stuff as junk. I think of it as an experiment.”

I frowned. “An experiment?”

“Yes, I want to be a better, different me.”

She studied my face as if I could somehow find it within me to support her in her latest endeavor. It irked me to hell and back that she didn’t know she was gorgeous exactly as she was. She didn’t need to be better or different. She was perfect, but if I told her this, I’d have to tell her everything else. What she did to me. How I felt about her. What I wanted to do with her—

Don’t do it . I pressed my lips together and swallowed the words. Keep your mouth shut .

“Javi, please, don’t be mad at me.” She shifted on her sandals and glanced down on herself again. “I haven’t dressed up in a while. Tonight is important to me. Is it too much?”

Yeah. No . The dress would’ve been perfect for her, if I had been her date, boyfriend, partner, her man.

Her man? What the fuck, Goofman?

I couldn’t be any of those things to Missy. I had to get my emotions under control, right now, especially given that my dick refused to cut me any slack. I had to face reality. She was going out with those two peacocks. Again. This was an “important” night, whatever that meant. She wore the sinful, deliciously tempting little dress, not for me, but for other men to enjoy.

The back of my neck must’ve been on fire. I fought to suppress the violence that coursed through me. What the fuck was that? Anger? Possessiveness? Envy? I didn’t recognize the indignation pumping in my veins. It felt like all of those things knotted together, plus some other crap I couldn’t explain. I’d never experienced outrage in this form.

Was this… jealousy?

I’d never been the jealous type. My bed partners came and went. I was cool with that. But now, I was jealous. Uber jealous. Shaking with uncontrollable jealousy. Of two idiots on vacation. Of the easy friendship they had with Missy. Of the pull they had on her.

Jaw clamped, I set aside my laptop, got up, and after crossing the deck, parked before the veranda. I forced myself to take deep breaths. In and out, in and out . My rage only escalated. My fingers strangled the wood railing. Anytime now, smoke was gonna come out of my ears.

This has to stop.

If I gave in to my impulses now, I was gonna multiply my failures. I didn’t want to fail Nix, Omega, Thena. I couldn’t fail Missy. I turned around and faced her.

“You don’t need to dress like that to look pretty,” I rumbled, even though what I really wanted to tell her was that she looked like sin waiting to happen and I wanted to be part of it.

She stood very straight. “What do you mean?”

“Angel, you ain’t gotta flaunt your goods for men to like you.” The shit just poured out of my mouth, the only defense mechanism I had left, working at full capacity. “And what’s with the war paint?”

Her little frown deepened. “War paint?”

“Mascara, blush, lipstick.” I waved two fingers over my face. “I’ve never seen you wearing makeup before. It’s not like you need any of that shit. You’re beautiful. You know that. Those guys you’re hanging out with are walking around the globe with stiff dicks anyway.”

“Don’t be unkind.” Her words bounced on the shield hardening over my heart. “They like spending time with me. They’re nice. I don’t bug them the way I bug you.”

“You don’t—” I paused mid-sentence. There was no point in telling her. On the contrary, I needed to cut the ties that bound me to her with my sharpest scissors. “Let me tell you about those sons of bitches. They’re gonna be nice to you until they stick their dicks in your pussy.”

Her eyes widened, but she stood her ground. “I think they’re going to be nice to me regardless.”

“Don’t be naive.” My snort wasn’t fake. “They’re horny assholes, pure and simple.”

She narrowed her eyes on me. “And you know this… how?”

I took the fifth on that one. So what if Missy’s new friends and I were cut from the same cloth? I knew their type because they were just like me before Missy.

I leaned back on the railing and crossed my arms. “They’re not right for you.”

“I see.” Two small lines appeared between her eyebrows. “You don’t trust that I know what I’m doing or what I want.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Right words, cold, uncaring tone. “Those two peacocks don’t have correct intentions.”

“ Correct intentions ?” Her eyebrows spiked toward her bangs. “Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to hang out with someone whose intentions are correct ? Maybe I want what they want. Perhaps I want to get into their pants. After the preview you gave me last night, maybe I want to find out what the rest of the fuss is about.”

The mere thought of those peacocks touching her made me sick to my stomach. “Those guys don’t have feelings for you—”

“Do you think I’m such an idiot that I have feelings for them?” She inhaled all the air in the room and clenched her fists. “I’m not stupid. I know better. They’re on vacation. They’re looking for fun. Well, guess what? So am I.”

“You don’t mean that—”

“I’m not an idiot,” she spat. “I’m not looking for love in all the wrong places as you want to believe. I want to expand my horizons, to go beyond oral.”

“Missy!” I almost choked on my spit. “What the hell?”

“We’re stuck here,” she said. “We can’t leave. When we go back to Astor House, I won’t have an opportunity to explore or experiment.”

“ Explore or experiment ?” The heat went straight to my head.

“Yes,” she continued, unabashed. “They’re willing. A friendly hookup would be nice. Perhaps a little sex coaching to give me a few pointers would do me good. That way, I can give pleasure instead of taking it from someone who thinks of it as doing his job.”

Ah, fuck . “You weren’t a job for me last night.”

“Then what was it?” When I didn’t answer, she came to her own conclusion. “Was it duty or charity?”

I tightened my fists and fought really hard not to blow my top.

“Never mind.” She waved a languid hand in the air. “Don’t answer that. My father taught me with his behavior that men cannot be trusted.”

“I’m not your—”

“But you’re a guy and you’ve been very clear about your… um… female preferences,” she said, cutting me off. “I get that’s not me. So, right now, I only want one thing. I want to have sex, preferably good sex.” She defied me with a lift of her eyebrows. “Does that shock you?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” I said. “There are safe ways of—”

“If you’re about to give me the sex safety talk, stop.” Her eyes gleamed with orange fire. “I’m not a freaking child and, I repeat, you’re not my goddamn father. I’m a nurse and smart enough to handle the details. I’m prepared, so fuck off.”

She was prepared . I wanted to stab myself. Her actions were cool, calculated, and premeditated, and they included my heart’s slow and painful death.

“At this point, I’m just looking for a good time,” she continued, oblivious to the pain crushing my chest. “All I want is the kind of no-attachment fuck fests you enjoy so frequently. Why can’t I do the same?”

“Angel, please.” I swallowed a growl. “You’re different from me.”

“How?” she demanded.

“You’re kind, caring, and sensitive—”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like you are,” I said. “You’re also thoughtful, deliberate, conscientious—”

“Stop it with the bullcrap, will you?” She crossed her arms and glowered. “The main difference between you and me is that you’re a man and I’m a woman.”

“Well, yes, that’s one difference, but there’s more,” I tried to explain. “Your world has always been small. You grew up protected from everything. Those weasels who bought you those pretty things are in it for the thrill of the hunt, and you’re encouraging them.”

“Stop talking to me like this,” she demanded.

“Like how?”

“Condescending, as if I’m dumb.” She notched her chin higher. “Patronizing, as if you were my father.”

“I’m not—” The gods help me, the last thing I wanted to hear from her is that I reminded her of her prick of a father—three times in one shitty conversation. “I’m trying to keep you safe. I don’t fuck around when I’m doing my job.”

“ Your job . That’s me.” She placed her hand on the bare skin of her chest. “Am I right?”

“Yes.” I fought an impulse to tell her to forget all that shit, take her in my arms, and kiss her until our mouths fused together. Instead, I thought of a different angle. “I’m doing my job while the moon is rising and you’re getting into character.”

She wrinkled her nose as if she smelled a stench. “What do you mean with this ‘getting into character’ stuff?”

“Mina says—”

“Who the heck is Mina?” she asked sharply.

“Our cyber-hunter-in-chief.” I kept going on a course that was suicidal for my feelings but necessary if I was gonna stick to my guns. “Mina told me that you’re named after Artemis, the Greek goddess of the moon, the hunt, the wilderness, and chastity, no less.”

She whipped her chin even higher in the air. “Yeah, so?”

“She told me the Greeks called Artemis ‘the virgin huntress.’”

Her face flushed into a deep crimson, and the lines of her jaw hardened. It’d taken some doing, but I’d succeeded at making her mad. Mad was the goal. The beginning of the end. Why, then, did I feel so damn wretched?

“Question for you.” If there was any warmth left in her darkening eyes, it now disappeared. “Since when is Muscled Peter Pan interested in Greek mythology?”

“Since I learned about you,” I bit back, ignoring her jab and feeling very much like Peter Pan about to eject sweet Wendy from Never-Never Land. “And, guess what?”

“What?”

“The full moon is about to rise,” I said. “Artemis is on the hunt.”

“Wow.” She glanced at me, looked away, then blinked as if her eyes burned. When she next managed speech, the fiery corona glittered around her pupil like a sun flare. “You’re talented. I think you just judged and insulted me at the same time.”

“It’s an objective observation.” I shrugged. “You’re certainly geared up for the job.”

“You prick.” The lines of her face hardened. “You just called me a slut.”

The full force of her outrage punched me in the chest. Gone was sweet Missy. In her place stood someone I didn’t know. And she was mad as a hornet.

My survival instincts kicked in. I suddenly felt like a drowning man. My chest. I couldn’t breathe right. I couldn’t stand her contempt, didn’t want her to hate me, and despite my deliberate attempt to cut the cord, I couldn’t bear the thought that I was causing her pain or murdering the kindness in her .

I began to do some serious backstroking. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did.” Her face reflected the fiery colors of the sunset as she glowered at me. “You’re a first-class asshole. Your double standards are a load of crap.”

“Excuse me?” I stammered as if she’d kicked me in the balls.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she spat, her voice as hard and precise as a honed blade. “Women stick to you like leeches wherever you go. And you love it. You fucking enjoy the attention.”

“Missy, language, please.” I channeled Sister Elsa, mostly because hearing profanity from her was as shocking as a slap to the face. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Well, fuck that,” she ground out. “Like it or not, this is the new me. Why should you hoard the rights to profanity, fun, and sex?”

“I don’t—”

“Because I’m a girl, right?” Her scathing glare should’ve singed the skin off my flesh. “Because I’m Mousy Missy, Prissy Missy, Baby Missy, Missing Missy, all that fuckery that showed up in your so-called profile.”

“The profile didn’t—”

“Fuck the profile,” she snapped. “According to it, I should be shy, quiet, agreeable, and demure at all times, just like my father would’ve wanted. Meanwhile, you get to be in control of everything and fuck whoever you want.”

“I—”

“Shut up,” she barked. “You’ve been fucking that broad with the big tits since the first day we got here. You’re the official slut around here. And you know what? I don’t care. In fact, I aspire to the title.”

“What? No!” Where the hell had the Missy Astor I knew gone? “Angel, you’re not meat market material.”

“I’m no different from any other woman who chooses to be sexual however the hell she wants.” She straightened to her full height and jammed a hand in the air. “I’m tired of everyone thinking of me like a young girl or a chaste novice. I’m a full-grown, adult woman, and like you, I can fuck whoever the hell I want whenever I want.”

“Okay,” I said, attempting an emergency backstroke. “Simmer down, lady.”

She huffed like a wild bull in the ring. “You don’t get to tell me to simmer down.”

Fury twisted her face into a scowl that made me cringe. I’d gone at this all wrong and now things had gotten out of hand. To make matters worse, I didn’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t clarify what this was about.

“Angel, I—”

She bit out, “Don’t call me that!”

“Missy,” I started again, feeling tentative, not to mention vulnerable and about to expose emotions I couldn’t understand let alone express properly. “You’re right about everything you said. This is my bad, and I’m really sorry if I came across like a—”

“Like a chauvinist pig?” she tossed out angrily. “Like a slut-shaming, misogynistic dick? Like a level ten complete and total asshole?”

“Maybe, if I can explain—”

“I don’t need your explanations.” She marched to the doors. “I’m sorry I asked a simple question any decent guy knows how to answer. ‘You look fine’ would’ve sufficed. I was just a little nervous about tonight, perhaps even looking for reassurance, but now I realize I don’t need your approval to look confident, to be confident.”

“I—”

“But no, oh no, the jerk in you came out in full force. You know what?” She whirled on me. “I don’t need your opinions. You’re a bodyguard. That’s all you’ll ever be to me.”

Ouch . That hurt more than a strike of shrapnel to the back.

“There’s a lot going on in my head,” I said, a lame attempt at an apology.

“There’s a lot going on in my head, too,” she shot back, merciless and unforgiving.

I needed to tell her everything, that Bozeman had called with a dire warning, that Tracker Team could be in trouble, and that King and the nuns had disappeared. I needed to explain why I was so fucking uptight tonight. I’d taken my frustrations out on her, and it wasn’t fair. Somehow, I had to convey that she was driving me insane, and I felt like a walking stick of dynamite lit up and ready to blast.

But how could I tell her that I was jealous, bitter, and miserable? How could I express the odd emotions tightening my chest? How could I verbalize things I couldn’t comprehend myself, like for example this new level of lust that made me hunger for her, or my obsessive, irrational need to protect, please, and pleasure her?

I pushed off the veranda and reached for her. “Missy, give me a chance to—”

“Stay away.” She recoiled from me. “I won’t allow anyone to slut-shame me anymore, to tell me how to look and act, and that includes you—especially not you.” She threw the sliders open. “You’re right. I’m primed for the hunt and you know what? I’ve been asked.”

I about choked on the damn word. “Asked?”

“Yes, asked, propositioned, whatever the hell you want to call it,” she said over me. “I’ve got good prospects. I’m proud of it, happy to be free of myself, of you.”

“Missy, wait.” I stood there like the idiot I was, not knowing what to do, what to say. “Don’t do anything you may regret later.”

“Fuck you, fuck regret, and fuck chastity.” Her eyes glinted with a dangerous edge. “Stay out of my way. The virgin huntress-in-residence is on the prowl. Tonight, I hunt.”

She smashed together the sliders and disappeared. I heard the front door slam closed and plopped down on the lounger, propped my elbows on my knees, and held my head between my hands. I’d gone too far. I raked my fingernails over my scalp. Once again, I’d fucked up. I was my worst enemy and this might be my biggest screw up yet.

Tonight, I hunt. Belatedly, her words hit me full on. The virgin huntress-in-residence is on the prowl .

“Virgin?” The word echoed around me.

Oh, fuck.

I jammed my feet into my sandals. The gods really did hate me and my guts.