She nodded. “We’re both very ready for this.”
A small growl sounded in John’s throat. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”
In one fluid movement, he slipped his hand into her hair and brought his lips down to hers. The kiss was hard, demanding, and she melted into him, relishing the feel of his soft, eager lips. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, her sides, igniting her skin and making her body cry for more.
Drawing a slow, long line up her throat with his tongue, John snickered into her ear before drawing her earlobe into his mouth.
Squirming, reeling from the sensations, she grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on her breast. He granted her one gentle squeeze before his fingers moved to the top of her blouse. His mouth claimed hers again, his tongue forceful and searching as he released the top button, then the second.
The cool air heated as he dragged his fingertips down her cleavage. She bit her lip, trying to deny her quivering skin. God, she wanted this. She wanted him.
She raked her teeth against the slight stubble shading his neck as her blouse fell to the floor. Fisting her hair in his fingers, he leaned her head back again, his mouth claiming her greedily as she removed his shirt one agonizing button at a time.
The room heated as he eased her against the wall. She felt trapped, but her skin ignited as he pushed against her. She wanted to steer him to the TV room, where they could sink into the couch, or even better, the bedroom, but the wall, shit, the wall would do just fine.
John pulled her leg up to his waist and pressed his erection against her. She groaned and sucked his tongue into her mouth, taking control and staking her own claim as she brushed the shirt from his shoulders.
He released the kiss. “Wait.” He stepped back, exposing a clean, well-muscled chest and abs to die for. She had to contain herself from running her fingers across the ridges on his stomach before he reached for his shirt.
Tracy frowned. “What’s wrong?”
John shifted and the change in light revealed three deep, round scars centered over his heart. Tracy gasped. Bullet wounds?
He fumbled with his shirt, slipping one arm back through the fabric, but she pulled the still-warm cotton from his hands. Now that he was bared to her, she didn’t want him hidden from her ever again.
“Don’t cover up,” she said, moving closer.
John paled, clutching the fabric in his left hand and holding it over his heart, covering the scars. Tracy took his hand and gently drew it downward.
He tensed, stopping her. “Don’t.”
“What are you hiding from me?”
He lowered his gaze. “Bad memories.”
He relaxed, and she eased the shirt away from his chest. The whitened indents stood proudly on his otherwise flawless skin. A long, white line trailed between them, maybe a surgeon’s doing; a mark of courage. Survival. She reached toward the indents, but he grasped her hand. His fingers were cold.
“That’s where you were shot?”
He nodded, looking away.
Her gaze traveled back over the indents. They were too close together to be an accident and all centered over his heart. Whoever shot him had intent to kill. She tugged lightly against his grip and he released her to explore the marks with her fingertips. The whitened skin seemed softer than the tanned flesh surrounding it.
He trembled slightly, his eyes closed. “I know it’s awful. Let me put my shirt back on. I don’t want you to have to look at this.”
She ignored him, continuing to explore the scars with her fingertips. John’s eyes remained closed.
“They’re far from awful.” She moved closer, placing a kiss on each circle.
John eased her away, holding her face between his palms. His shirt fell across the tops of her feet. “How can you say that? They’re a constant reminder of that night.”
His eyes quaked. So much pain. So much uncertainty. She wished she could whisk the hurt away, so they could truly be alone without the past wedging between them.
A gentle tug brought his hands to her lips. She kissed the backs of his fingers. His lips parted, his face worn, sad. She slipped her hands around his back, drawing him closer, and dragged her tongue along the surgical scar. He trembled with each movement.
She met his gaze. “They’re beautiful. These are the reason Dak came to you. They’re part of who you are, and without them, we never would have met. How could I ever think they were something awful?”
His face softened; his hands smoothed up her back. Despite her mentioning his name, Dak still left them alone. Part of her loved the Ambient a little more each second he gave them to explore each other.
“Tracy?” John’s voice came as a whisper, a tentative sound that didn’t match the intensity that had resurfaced in his eyes.
She leaned up, her lips parted, inviting. She could take a kiss, force it, but she wanted him to break through this pain. She wanted to feel that he wanted her enough to push away the past, step away from his fears and into her heart.
His lips closed over hers. Warmth shot through her: firm, demanding, but gentle and honest at the same time. She relaxed into his embrace, soaking in his strength as he drew her closer. His tongue worshiped hers as her hands explored the curves of his sides, his back. His palms roamed her in turn before hesitating on the clasp of her bra.
“This needs to come off.” He unhooked her hands from his neck and slowly spun her. She held her hair up and shivered when the clasp released. His hands roved over her naked back, pushing the garment from her shoulders and to the floor. Suddenly bare, her skin drank in his heat, combatting the chill of the air conditioning. He kissed her cheek. His hands explored her stomach as he held her from behind. She lolled her head back and he rewarded her with a deep, searching kiss.
Humming with delight, she drew him deeper into her mouth. They’d waited too long to reveal this much desire to each other. Now that they’d started, she didn’t ever want to stop.
John pressed her back to his chest and she tensed, sure Dak would take advantage and reach out for Adonna, but only safe, sure, human heat met her skin. All John, all hers.
His hands inched up, stopping teasingly close to her breasts. She arched her back in offering, still languishing in the heat of his kiss. He swallowed her desperate whimper as his hands rose, worshiping her soft flesh.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, ushering her toward the couch.
He eased her back, placing soft kisses on her stomach while he unzipped her pants. She raised her hips, giving him easier access to shimmy the fabric down her legs and off.
She lay before him, naked except for a thin, lacy thong. His lips parted, and his glossy gaze traveled over her body. It was as if his eyes touched her, her skin shivering as he drank in all she had to offer.
Tracy reached for him and he eased his body over hers, pressing their chests together. He tensed as a fire erupted between their skin.
Dak.
The alien’s essence tingled across Tracy’s stomach, as if there were a cavern between her and John for his play area. Her nipples hardened as John pressed her more closely. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. It wasn’t as if she didn’t expect Dak to join in sooner or later. The intensity, the pressure and kneading force of the Entity reaching through her skin and into her body tensed every cell Dak touched. Her body arched. Her skin tingled as a deep ache enveloped her.
John’s lips closed over hers, tightening his grip on her and searching her with his tongue. He sighed and trembled, and they moaned together as Dak seeped deeper into her. Tracy’s stomach fluttered, and pressure built inside her. So much, almost too much to bear.
Her body froze. Completely immobile, the heaviness shook within. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to cry out when the pressure turned to pain, but her voice didn’t respond.
John’s brow furrowed. “Tracy, are you okay?”
Her hands shook. “Bad!” Her voice shattered the moment. She pushed John away
with strength she knew she shouldn’t have.
John cried out and clutched his torso. He buckled over, choking. Had she hurt him? Hurt Dak by breaking the contact?
Tracy rolled off the couch, crouching on all fours in nothing but her underwear. She took a predatory pose or was it defensive? And why was her body moving without her control?
“Wrong,” her own voice gurgled up her throat, but not her words. Holy shit!
John took a few deep breaths and held his throat as he looked up at her. His eyes radiated pain. “Tracy?”
“Not right.” Her body rocked back and forth. She felt like a praying mantis about to snatch its prey…or maybe rip the head off its mate. Oh God!
John reached for her and she hissed.
Sweet Lord! Why did she hiss?
John? John help me!
John pulled his hand back. Tracy’s body relaxed. Control came back in a flood and she crumpled to the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
As she held her head, John touched her shoulder. She batted him away.
John held his hands up as in surrender but remained kneeling beside her.
If he touched her again, she’d kill him.
Wait, what?
“Tracy, are you there?”
She opened her mouth, relieved when her own words answered. “Yes, but I don’t know what’s going on.”
She wanted to reach out to him, hold him, shelter herself from whatever this was, but the pure anger churning within left her frozen in place.
“Adonna?” John whispered.
Her head jerked up.
Had she done that, answered to another name?
His hand moved tentatively toward her. “Adonna, I don’t know what’s wrong, but Tracy is really scared.”
“Not right,” her voice growled. “Wrong.”
Oh God, was that Adonna?
John grimaced. “Yeah, everything’s wrong. I get that.” He shifted his weight. His eyes seemed to search, as if hoping for some sign of Tracy in her eyes. “Is it me? You don’t want me to touch you? Do you want me to go?”
I need you. Please don’t leave me! Tracy tried to move, blink. Nothing happened. Her body didn’t move at all.
John took a deep breath. “Is it Dak, then?”
Tracy’s body swayed to the left. “Not right. Wrong.”
What does that mean?
A slight whimper escaped Tracy’s lips, the only speck of emotion not trounced by this invasion.
John inched closer. “Adonna, you can feel Tracy. I know you can. You know how scared she is. Please let me hold her. Dak promises he won’t touch you.”
“Wrong,” Tracy’s voice said. Colors mixed and faded in her mind. Rusty-red, then grayish-purple. The essence in her pushed the thoughts, like the contrasting hues should mean something. But they were only colors!
The weight inside her seethed, dripped with a pure hatred Tracy couldn’t bear.
John’s hands formed fists and released. “I’m getting all that wrongness, but Tracy needs me. She’s your host. She’s given you her lungs, you can’t deny her comfort. Now, let me touch her. If Dak goes anywhere near you, you have my permission to crack his stinking non-corporeal head open. Okay?”
The pressure in Tracy’s chest dissipated and she collapsed to the floor. John gathered her into his arms. She muffled her sobs against his chest, her tears moistening his scars.
47
Tracy shook against him. John held her lightly at first, and when Adonna didn’t protest, he cradled her, stoking her right arm with his thumb. Gentle touches. Nothing to reawaken the entity inside her.
The lighting from the foyer cast shadows through the living room, leaving dark, foreboding corners.
Tracy’s head bobbed against John’s chest. Dak swirled inside him, hovering at the edge of John’s skin, just millimeters from Tracy, way too close for comfort.
Don’t you dare, buddy. We promised.
The entity juddered. *I didn’t do anything. I swear it!*
Tracy clutched at John’s chest and squirmed into his lap. John tightened his grip, wishing he could transfer some of his strength into her.
Her trembling didn’t dissipate, and he wished he knew how he could squelch her fears.
When Dak had taken control of him the first time, John had blacked out. He didn’t have to experience it firsthand. John stroked her cheek. He couldn’t imagine how terrified Tracy must feel, how invaded. All he could think of doing to help her was being there. A rock in reality. Strength and understanding.
The pulsing and shaking near his heart deepened. He imagined Dak slapping his head, if he had one, wondering what went wrong. He could sense his friend’s need to reach out to Adonna, to soothe, to understand. But if John even thought Dak would try to touch Adonna now, he would have broken contact with Tracy. Anything to avoid Adonna’s anger.
In time, Tracy’s quaking stopped. She wiped her nose and pushed back hair damp with tears. “What happened? Why did she do that?”
He kept his hands on her shoulders. “We don’t know. Is Adonna talking?”
“I heard the words not right in my head. Why does she keep repeating that?”
“We don’t know that either.”
She hugged her knees, covering herself. John handed her the slacks behind him and her bra.
“Thank you.” She replaced the garments and settled onto the couch. She looked at the carpet, the ceiling, everywhere but at him.
He wanted—no, he needed to fix this. He just had no idea what this was.
John handed Tracy’s blouse to her, slipping his own shirt over his shoulders. He shuddered as the lamplight caught the tears still streaking her cheeks. Visions of Amy curled up on the floor, sobbing, rushed back to him.
He’d lost her because of Dak. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.
Tracy affixed the final button on her shirt. A forced smile appeared. “This isn’t quite the evening I had planned.”
That was an understatement. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?” Her hands formed fists and she pressed them to her thighs. “She took over my body. She pushed you away. Is Dak okay?”
“He’s fine. He’s hurting, though. He doesn’t understand this, either.”
Tracy’s gaze fell to her lap. She hugged herself. “I can’t take this. She barely talks. I only feel her, and, and she took me. I had no control, she forced me to the background, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“I understand.”
“How can you take it, John? How can you let Dak violate you like that?”
John reached for her. “I don’t think they realize how it affects us emotionally when they take control. It’s got to be hard on them, too. They never have control.”
“Are you making excuses for her?”
John slackened. Was he? At this point, he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.
She buried her face in her knees.
John slid beside her and pulled her into his arms. Regret, hurt, and shame rolled through the essence spinning inside him.
Tracy leaned on his shoulder. “How can you live like this, never knowing when he might do something to you that you don’t want?”
A deep breath did little to settle him. “Honestly, he’s only done it about three times total, and one of them was with you. Now that he knows how it makes me feel, I doubt he’d do it again.”
She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “You actually trust him, even though you know how easily he can take advantage of you?”
“Yes.” The answer came more quickly than he expected. Maybe if he hadn’t lived with Dak for so many years, if he hadn’t shared his hopes, dreams, and every emotion with him—maybe then he would feel differently. But it was true. He trusted Dak with his life.
Tracy shook her head. “I can’t be so gracious. I can’t live like this.”
A weight formed in John’s chest that had nothing to do with Dak. “Once you can talk to her, things will be better.
”
Tracy stood, grabbing her temples. “You keep saying that, but it doesn’t get better. It keeps getting worse!”
John reached for her. “Tracy, come on.”
“No.” She stepped away. “God forbid I touch you or this ungrateful bitch in my head might hurt someone.”
“Tracy—”
She held up a hand, stopping him dead.
“I like you, John. More than any guy I’ve ever met, and I’m not letting a freaking alien stowaway decide who I can and can’t be with.” She gathered her hair over one shoulder, spinning it into a rope as she paced the room. She stopped, nodded to herself, and turned to him. “I’m going to have her extracted.”
John stood as Dak turned to stone in his gut. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me. I can’t live like this. It’s not fair.”
“And how is extracting her fair?”
She pointed at her chest. “I never asked for this. I never asked to have this thing inside me.”
“She saved your life!”
“I didn’t ask her to. I’ll go to the hospital. They’ll be able to help once she’s out of me.”
“Tracy, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do. I want this thing gone.”
John grabbed her shoulders. “It’s murder!”
Tracy’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“She can’t live outside your body.”
“I know that. She can go find another one.”
John released her. His eyes dampened. “They won’t let her. That’s not how it works.” He rubbed his face with his hands and sat on the couch.
“What are you talking about?”
John’s hands shook. Was it Dak’s terror or the horror of his own memories? He looked up.
“I saw an extraction once. Our good friend Agent Clark had this whitish rod.” He motioned with his hands, as if holding the horrid instrument before him. “He used it to rip the entity out through the host’s pupils.” He closed his eyes, every muscle in his body tensing. “When they got it out, they could have let him go, let him find another host, but they didn’t.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“It’s not what they do.” He stood. “The entities, they can breathe our oxygen, but carbon dioxide is poison. When their host dies, or if they are extracted, they need to move at the speed of light to avoid the impurities in our air until they find another host.” A shiver overtook him. He folded his arms. “But they don’t let them. They hold them. They keep them still.”
Invaded Page 22
