Seduced by the Storm
railing
edge.
    "Get
him into the chamber!" he said, or at least tried to say, but he didn’t
have enough breath to make a sound.
    They
grabbed Len and eased him to the mid-level platform, his pained groans audible
even over the howling wind. A small hand appeared in front of Wyatt’s face.
    Faith.
    "Grab
hold." Her grip was surprisingly strong as she helped haul him up out of
the water.
    Shivering,
he gulped air into his lungs, content to kneel on the cold steel as Faith’s
warm hands patted him down in a rapid but thorough search for injury. The deck
beneath them shook, the massive structure groaning from the force of the
storm’s growing intensity.
    "We’ve
got to take shelter," he said.
    "Agreed.
Wholeheartedly." She pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and helped him to
his feet. In the gale-force gusts, they used each other for balance as they
walked away from the edge and up the steps to the upper deck.
    "Is
Len all right?" Wyatt called out to the men at the top.
    "He’s
in the chamber," one of the medics said. "We’ll medevac him as soon
as the storm lets up."
    Relieved,
Wyatt leaned on Faith, his muscles trembling, his head still heavy.
    Combining
the telekinesis with the free dive had zapped him. He’d need rest before he
attempted to take down Sean and the weather machine. And judging from the way
the scientist-types were racing toward where the weather machine was housed in
the lab, Wyatt knew it was going to be a while before he would have any hope of
getting to the thing.
    So
yeah, let them spend precious time fixing it while he recouped and
recovered—because then he was going to take it out six ways from Sunday.
    "Come
on, let’s get you out of the rain and into something dry." Faith moved
forward, even though he was leaning on her pretty heavily. Wind gusts knocked
them around, but Faith held tight, and yeah, he could work with that.
    Once
they arrived at the covered threshold to the Accommodations Module, she began
to help him out of the drysuit.
    "Do
you know Len well?" she asked.
    "I
met him this morning," Wyatt told her, and she stopped mid-zip, leaving
the suit hanging open, exposing his chest.
    "You
risked your life for someone you barely know?"
    "Does
that turn you on?"
    "You
can barely stand. I don’t think you’re in any shape to—" She stopped
mid-sentence as his cock pressed against the suit and into her hip. "Well,
parts of you are in shape."
    Yeah,
and that part of him didn’t get that it wasn’t going to get what it demanded.
At least not now. "It’s still touch and go," he told her earnestly.
"You might have to nurse me back to health for a few hours."
    FAITH
HAD NO INTENTION of nursing Wyatt in any way, shape or form. Being with him in
any capacity was a risk; being with him in private could get him dead if Sean
ever found out. The only reason she risked it now was that clearly something
had gone wrong with the weather machine, so Sean could be tied up for hours.
And God, she hoped whatever was going on didn’t make the weather worse. Give
her a dozen armed enemies, a hungry shark, a pissed-off ghost. She could handle
it. But a clap of thunder? Not so much.
    "Come
on," she said, hoping Wyatt didn’t notice how her teeth chattered.
"Let’s get you to your room and out of this storm. Which direction?"
    "I
knew you’d see it my way."
    She
huffed. "I’m taking you to your room and leaving you there. Alone.
Understood?"
    "Mmm-hmm.
Sure."
    "You’re
insufferable."
    They
started moving down the hall, him leaning on her even though she suspected he’d
recovered well enough to walk on his own. "I love it when you talk like
that."
    "Like
what?"
    "A
stuffy Brit in need of a good loosening up."
    "And
I suppose you think you’re the one to do the loosening."
    One
big shoulder rolled in a lazy shrug. "I’m handy with lube."
    "I’ve
no doubt about that," she muttered as they halted in front of one of the
nondescript steel doors lining the hallway.
    He
grinned and reached for the door

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