Weapons Master Galactic Gladia - Anna Hackett Page 0,30
took the girl’s hand and pulled her away from Maxon. “I’m sorry. You look like our father. The same hair.”
“You have family?” Maxon asked.
The older girl nodded. “They’ll be frantic. They’ll be looking for us.”
He rose. “We’ll help you get home.”
There was a gleam of tears in the girl’s eyes before she sniffed them back. “Thank you.”
The little girl patted his leg, then left with her sister.
“Kids seem to like you.”
He watched Bellamy approach.
“I have no idea why.”
“Because you make them feel safe.” She pressed into his chest. “You make me feel safe.”
There was a storm of emotion inside him. He cupped her cheek. “Why were you talking and laughing with that man?” His tone came out harsh and surly.
Her mouth curved. “Jealous?”
Maxon gripped her biceps. “Don’t play with me, Bellamy.”
Her smile faded. “I’m not. I was being nice to someone who’d been in captivity, like I was.”
Maxon released a breath. He needed to get his own feelings under control and think about hers.
She jerked away. “Don’t piss me off, cyborg. I’m mad, and looking for a convenient punching bag.”
He sensed that barely leashed fury simmering, her body vibrating with it.
“The Edull tried to kill you again, so you have the right to be angry,” he said.
She made a scoffing noise, and waved a hand in the air. “It’s not that. Kids, Maxon. They locked up all these kids.” Her voice hitched. “They would’ve shipped them to Bari Batu and killed them.”
He reached out and touched her pale hair. “Bellamy. We will stop them.”
Her voice was close to a whisper. “How many will die before we can do that?” A tear slipped from her eye and she dashed it away, making an angry noise. “Dammit, I don’t cry.”
He wished he knew what the drak to do to ease her pain.
“Maxon—” Her voice cracked. “Get me out of here. I’m going to break or explode or something.”
He grabbed her hand. “Magnus, I’m taking Bellamy back to the House of Rone.”
Magnus nodded. “Go. We’re almost finished here. Take one of Rillian’s transports.”
They didn’t talk on the way back. Once they reached the arena, he led her into the tunnels. His long strides ate up the distance, and she was practically jogging to keep up with him.
They moved quickly through the House of Rone doors without stopping to talk to the guards. He tugged her straight into his workshop.
She strode into the center of the space and he expected her to cry.
Instead, she made an enraged sound and grabbed a tool off the bench. She threw it at the wall. Then she started grabbing whatever was within reach and tossing things at the wall. She had good aim.
She was incandescent with rage. Drak, she was magnificent.
Maxon knew this wasn’t just about the kids. This was about letting out her anger, fear, and fury about her own abduction, what she’d lost, what she’d seen.
Then, it seemed like the storm was petering out. She lowered her arm and spun.
Her green eyes were blazing, and the heat ran through him.
Even a cyborg could recognize the mix of lust, desire, sex.
Bellamy let her gaze drift over Maxon’s hard form.
Need and want twisted through the rage welling inside her. Her anger morphed into something hotter and needier.
Throwing shit had helped her. Fucking Maxon would be even better.
“What do you want?” His voice was low and edgy.
She stepped toward him. “You know.” She yanked her tank top off.
His gold gaze moved over her breasts, devouring her. “Tell me.”
She flicked open her trousers and dropped them. She kicked off her panties and then she was naked.
His gaze was glued to her belly. The man had a thing for her tats.
“I want your big, callused hands on me. I want your mouth on me.” She reached for him and pressed her palm against his trousers, right over his cock.
He groaned. He was already hard, and she stroked him through the fabric.
“You want to use me?” he growled. “To get your anger out? Forget all your troubles?”
She lifted her chin. “You got a problem with that?”
“Drak, no.” He wrapped an arm around her, and lifted her off her feet.
God, the way he easily picked her up made her damp. She bit his jaw. “Maxon?”
That molten gold gaze met hers.
“This isn’t just fucking, or working my anger out. It’s you. Only you.”
He made a sound like a muted roar. With his other arm, he swept across the bench, knocking tools and gear off the surface.
Bellamy’s belly caught, desire thrumming between her legs.
He set