Claimed (Outlaws #1)

Hudson couldn’t stop the panicky sensation that churned in her stomach. Crap. Had she done the wrong thing by telling him about the program?

What if Connor and the others used the information to go after her brother?

You don’t have a brother anymore.

The bleak thought was like a knife to the heart. No, she supposed she didn’t. These past couple of years, Dominik had transformed right in front of her eyes. He’d become a man she no longer recognized. Cruel and barbaric. Heartless.

But he hadn’t always been that way, damn it. Her brother had once been kind and honorable. Fiercely loyal and dedicated to keeping those around him safe.

What had happened to him?

She didn’t have an answer for that, and as painful as it was, she forced herself to banish Dom from her mind. She’d known that by escaping the compound, she was permanently severing ties with her brother. She needed to put the past behind her if she wanted to have a future in this new land.

A car engine rumbled outside the lodge, bringing a rush of relief. Connor and Rylan had been out checking the motion sensors in the woods, which had malfunctioned earlier. They’d been gone long enough to worry her, but Xander had assured her they would have contacted camp on the radio if they’d run into any trouble.

Still, she wanted to see for herself that they were unharmed. “Come find me if you need me,” she told Xander on her way to the door.

He didn’t answer, his concentration focused solely on the tablet. She’d noticed that Kade was the only person capable of reaching Xan when he was working. If Kade interrupted him, Xander dropped whatever he was doing. No hesitation.

Hudson didn’t quite understand their relationship. They weren’t outwardly affectionate toward each other. It definitely didn’t seem like they were sleeping together, because they didn’t act like a couple. And yet they were clearly more than friends.

When she stepped outside, she found Rylan unloading a bag from the Jeep. Streaks of mud marred his face and clothes, and some of it was even caked in his hair.

She laughed as she approached him. “What happened to you?”

He sighed. “The rain last night turned the mountain into a mud swamp. You should’ve come along – we were slipping and sliding all over the place. Fun times.”

“Where’s Connor?”

“Went to take a shower. Which is exactly what I’m about to do.” He smacked a kiss on her cheek before hurrying off.

Smiling to herself, she headed in the opposite direction, toward Connor’s cabin. The door was unlocked, so she walked inside, where the sound of rushing water greeted her. Her pulse sped up as she imagined Connor’s wet, naked body under the spray. Then she realized she didn’t have to imagine a damn thing – she could go and see it for herself.

She eased open the door without knocking and snuck a peek at the glass shower door. No steam filled the bathroom, which told her he was conserving hot water, the way he always did.

She’d barely had a second to admire his bare ass before his head turned and those hazel eyes met hers.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you joining me?” The shower spray muffled his deep voice, but there was no mistaking its seductive rasp.

Hudson fumbled for her clothing so fast it was almost comical. She slid the door open and stepped into the glass enclosure, squealing when the cold water touched her skin. As shivers broke out and goose bumps appeared, she tried making an escape, but Connor stopped her by wrapping his arms around her. It didn’t help, though, because his body was as cold as the water.

“Let me out of here,” she begged. “I changed my mind. It’s impossible to get turned on with this water temperature.”

“I beg to differ.” With a smirk, he glanced down at the erection jutting from his groin.

Nevertheless, he took pity on her and adjusted the faucet. Lukewarm now, but much better, and enough to thaw the ice in her bones. Then he kissed her, and water temperature was suddenly the last thing on her mind.

Hudson grabbed his wet shoulders as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Firm and insistent. Long, deep strokes that brought more goose bumps to her skin, but for an entirely different reason. She was addicted to his kisses, to the way he teased and demanded, drawing desperate moans from her throat with each stroke of his tongue.

His lips found her neck, trailing kisses along her wet skin, and she watched the water sliding down his chest, clinging to his compacted muscles, peeking through the wiry hairs on his chest. Her hands shook as she touched him, exploring the hard planes of his body and the various scars marring his flesh. Some old, some more recent. Evidence of the violence he’d known in his life, a reminder of who he was and what he fought for. Survival. Dominance.