He set the cup down on the nightstand and pulled me back down under the covers with him. He rubbed my back again and his warmth seeped into me as the whiskey and chocolate milk did their magic. After a few minutes, I went from shivering hard enough to crack my teeth to cozy comfortable. Sometime after that, I’m not sure how long he held me, I began to feel like myself again.
“What happened to me?” I murmured against Price’s chest. Bare chest. I wanted to lick it.
“You got shot, you got healed, and you got kissed. You don’t seem to have liked one or three of them.”
“Definitely didn’t like getting shot.” I realized my arm was around his waist and I was rubbing the velvet skin along his ribs. I probably should have stopped. I didn’t. “The healing was good—I never like to bleed to death.”
Price chuckled and his arms tightened a fraction. “And getting kissed?”
“I don’t remember that.”
He lifted his head and looked down at me. Flames flickered in his eyes, and I remembered that a) I was naked, b) we were lying in bed, and c) I wanted him worse than I had ever wanted another man. I’m not really good with self-denial, either.
“I could remind you.”
I licked my lips, and his gaze fastened on them. “It’s probably not a good idea.”
“It’s a fucking lousy idea,” he said, and then rolled me onto my back and slid on top of me.
He straddled my hips, his weight braced on his elbows on either side of me. He looked down at me, gaze running over my wet hair, down my face to my neck and then to my bare breasts. His breath caught. I smiled in wonder. It was difficult to wrap my brain around the fact that I could have that effect on this diamond-hard man.
He saw me smile, and his mouth quirked wickedly in response before he lowered himself down. Once against he kissed me.
I nearly went up in smoke.
He took his time, tasting and nibbling. My breasts ached for his touch, and the rest of me throbbed with an equal desire for attention. I swear, he could have licked my toes, and I’d have orgasmed.
He moved to my ears, biting delicately, then kissed his way down my neck. I couldn’t stay still. I started to wriggle, and I reached up to pull him down on top of me.
“No, no,” he said and grabbed my wrists, holding them down on either side of my head.
“Bastard.”
“Trust me. I won’t hurt you.” He grinned tauntingly, and returned to his slow exploration. First he licked the pulses in both wrists, then returned to my neck. He kissed across the hollows of my collarbone and back up to my other ear. I started making sounds that didn’t quite sound human. My hips shifted, and I ground them up against his. He gasped. He gave me a searing kiss. If that was supposed to be punishment, it wasn’t working.
I lifted my head, needing more of him. He wrenched back. He was panting. Before I could argue or beg, he bent down and licked my right nipple. Lightning flashed through me. I bucked. He chuckled and did it again, then moved to the left and tortured me there. Exquisite torture. He did it over and over, blowing lightly on the tight, hard nipples until I wanted to scream in frustration and pleasure.
Finally, he sucked one between his lips, his tongue licking as he drew on me. I swear I went blind for a minute. Sounds came out of me that made no sense at all. He gave my other breast the same treatment. By this time, I was alternating between lifting my hips to grind against him and beating my heels against the mattress. I tried to wiggle out from between his thighs so I could wrap my legs around him, but he wasn’t about to let me.
He kissed and licked over my ribs and down to my belly button. I waited, agonizing need pooling lower. But he moved back up to my breasts. Over and over he teased me, kissing my breasts, my belly, my lips, my neck. I was thrashing and first begging then swearing at him. I fought to free my hands, but he wouldn’t let go.
Finally he took pity on me and eased down lower and lower still. Right past the heart of my need to my knees. He kissed me along the inside of one thigh and then the other, moving back and forth and higher. He blew on my clit and I moaned. Finally, finally! He let go of my wrists to slip his hands under my hips. I grabbed handfuls of the sheets as he gently licked me. I couldn’t make a sound. They were bottled up in my chest. Sensations crashed into me, and my mind evaporated. All I knew was I had never, ever, felt this good.
I tipped my hips, letting my thighs fall open as he licked me. He gently scraped his teeth over my clit, and my brain exploded, along with the rest of me. I shuddered and bucked, my orgasm sweeping from my head to my feet and back again. Price didn’t stop his ministrations, but kept sucking and licking until the last tremor left me.
He pushed himself up, and I pulled him back on top of me and kissed him. Hard. I ran my hands over his back, delighting in the curves and planes of his muscles. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted him. Inside me. Thrusting against me.
I pushed at the waistband of his pants. He lifted his head.
“Are you sure? You’ve been shot and then . . .”
“Take your pants off,” I ordered. “Now.”
He still hesitated. I slid my hands under his sweats and gripped his ass. At the same time, I wrapped my legs around him and rocked up against his cock. “Now.”
His face contorted, and he groaned. “You make it hard to do the right thing.”
“What’s wrong with feeling this good?” I thrust again, and he didn’t need any more convincing.
He kicked off his sweats along with most of the covers. He was long and hard. I stroked his velvet length and cupped his balls and massaged them. He moaned and bent down and licked my breasts in return.
I couldn’t wait long. He might have just given me a mind-blowing orgasm, but it had barely taken the edge off my need. I guided him to me. He didn’t take the hint. He propped himself on his elbows above me.
“You’re sure?”
“You have to ask?”
“I should get a condom.”
“I’m in no danger of getting pregnant and there are always tinkers for diseases. Now please, don’t make me wait anymore to have you inside me.”
He wasn’t gentle. I didn’t want gentle. He thrust in deep, and I met him with equal fervor. He stayed buried in me for a long minute without moving.
“You feel damned good,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. “I could stay like this forever.”
I jerked my hips against his. He gasped.
“It can feel better,” I whispered.
After that, he took over. He pulled out so slow I thought I would scream. He slid back in with equal slowness. Over and over and over. I felt the tension in my stomach tightening. My nerves were screaming with anticipation of the pleasure to come.
He sucked one of my breasts, his mouth hot and demanding. As he pulled away, he bit down.
I went nova.
I twisted and convulsed. He was right there with me. His hips pistoned against me. His muscles corded under my fingers. He grabbed my hands and tangled his fingers in mine, pulling my arms above my head. He licked and bit my breasts, and the explosions kept coming. All I could do was feel.
“Come on, baby. Feel good. Feel as good as I do. Give in to me, Riley.” He whispered against my ear. I felt his cock twitch, and he thrust deep into me and came, his face a tortured mask of absolute ecstasy.
I did that. I made him feel like that. I made him lose his control.
I practically purred.
He melted down over me, his breath rasping against my ear. A second later, he rolled off onto his back. Instantly I missed his heat. He pulled me against him, stroking the hair off my forehead. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m wonderful.” My stomach growled, despite the earlier sandwich and the chocolate milk. I made a face. “Mayb
e a little hungry.”
He just about leaped out of the bed, grabbing up his sweats and taking a shirt out of the dresser. “I’ll fix something. Wait here. I’ll bring it to you.”
He left, pretty much at a dead run. I scowled at the door for a long minute. What the fuck? I really didn’t expect cuddle time, but neither did I expect a vanishing act. Had he run for the hills because he didn’t want to face me? Or because he had a crazy, desperate urge to make me another ham sandwich? Either way, mind-blowing sex like that deserved better closure.
Even if he thought it was a mistake.
Even if it was a terrible, terrible mistake.
I didn’t regret it, whatever it was. I had never felt like that before, and I didn’t imagine I ever would again.
His departure was enough to put me in a seriously bad mood. I decided I wasn’t going to wait for him to come back. I didn’t want to be in Price’s bed anymore.
I found another shirt in the same drawer he’d taken his out of. The sweats I’d been wearing were soaked, having been dripped on after my shower, so after cleaning myself up, I put on a robe I found in his closet. It was made of dark blue fleece. I wondered if he’d bought it for himself or if someone had given it to him. A girlfriend maybe.
Jealousy clawed inside me. Oh hell. I didn’t want to feel this way. He worked for the Tyet, I reminded myself sternly. And he’d tabbed me.
I must have really been out of it earlier, because as soon as I thought of the tab, I realized it was gone. After a moment, I realized the blood null must have cooked it off.
Not that it really did me any good. I wasn’t going to try to escape Price; I needed his help to find Josh. I remembered the stuff we’d taken from his office. Had there been any clues to his whereabouts or who’d taken him in there?
I glanced around the room, looking for a clock. The room was big enough to fit four king-sized beds in comfortably. The dressers were made of mahogany wood. The bed had four tall posts, and a fireplace dominated the wall between the closet and the bathroom. Windows lined one wall. They were smothered in dark curtains, and I couldn’t tell what time of day it was. The clock on the mantle said four o’clock. I hadn’t been out all that long, then.
I looked outside. I could see faint shapes like buildings, but mostly all there was to be seen was snow and more snow. I let the curtain fall back into place and followed after Price, my stomach twisting nervously.
I didn’t really want to know he regretted having sex with me. But did I want him to care about me? The idea was almost as unnerving as working for him in the first place. If the man cared about me, he’d not let me disappear when our business was done. Sooner or later, he’d have to choose between me and the Tyet. I’d like to say he’d choose me. But I had no illusions about being special enough that Price would break ties to keep me safe. Besides, I’d seen what the Tyet could do, what they demanded once they had you. Even if he wanted to, they wouldn’t let him.
Chapter 10
I WAS ON THE second floor of Price’s condo. His bedroom suite took up half of it. The other half was divided between a posh entertainment room with a Bowflex in one corner, a pool table in the middle, and a comfortable TV nook with a leather corner couch and flat screen I could have parked a car on, plus a wet bar. It pays to be a Tyet man.
Next door was another full bathroom and next to it, an office. The dark wine curtains were pulled all the way open. A wood desk faced the windows, with bookcases behind it and a couch and some chairs to the left. There were some lovely landscapes on the walls, and a fountain bubbled on a marble table in front of one window. Price had a collection of rocks and minerals, with a six-foot-tall amethyst geode in the corner. Stacks of papers and files littered the couch and desk.
I ducked out and found the stairs. I could hear him moving around in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon began to permeate the air. My stomach cramped hard.
I held hard to the railing going down. My head was spinning again. Blood loss, I supposed. Or maybe the mind-blowing sex.
At the bottom of the stairs, the apartment opened up into a living room. It was definitely masculine, but tasteful, with antiques mixed with more modern pieces. Gorgeous art—a mix of prints, photographs, and textiles—sprinkled the walls. I don’t know what I expected—posters from the Gun of the Month Club maybe. Most of the outer walls were windows. The floors were a scraped wood with plush rugs strategically scattered around.
Instead of turning right to the kitchen, I went left up the hallway. I found another bathroom and a guest bedroom, plus a big storage closet that could have been a small bedroom, but contained a gun safe, several mountain bikes, and who knows what in the floor to ceiling cupboards along two walls. There was also a washer and dryer. Neither were running. I took a chance and opened the dryer. My clothes were inside and dry. Neither my underwear nor pants showed any hint that I’d bled all over them.
Once dressed, I shut the door and wandered back toward the kitchen. Time to beard the lion in his den.
Even Taylor would have approved of Price’s kitchen. It looked vaguely Italian, with exposed brick on the back wall. It had stainless steel appliances, espresso-colored cupboards, and white granite counters.
Price had his back to me as he flipped bacon on the stove. I slid onto a barstool at the counter. It took him a minute or two to figure out I was there. I just waited.
Finally, he turned around. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I didn’t feel like it.”
His jaw tightened. “You need rest. You were shot and you lost a lot of blood.”
“I’m better now. Got anything I can snack on? And coffee. I could really use some coffee.”
He blew out an annoyed sigh and put some bacon on a plate and poured me coffee, putting a carton of cream and some sugar up on the bar.
Price went back to cooking and ignoring me. My head throbbed. I rubbed the spot and remembered I’d hit my head in the shower.
The silence continued through my omelet with toast and more bacon. Price let me have another cup of coffee, but then forced me to drink orange juice.
“You don’t need more caffeine. You won’t get any sleep,” he growled.
I was getting tired of the fact that he was avoiding talking about us in his bed, but neither did I want to push it. From his behavior, he was interested in forgetting it happened. Even though that hurt more than I cared to admit, he was probably right. Definitely right. So I decided to ignore the elephant in the room, too.
“Sleep is overrated. Did you look at the stuff from Josh’s safe? Is there something that will help us find him?
He was still standing, leaning back against the opposite counter while he ate. “I think you need to stay out of this and let me handle it.”
Suspicion trickled through my heart. I set my fork down and shoved my plate aside. I wasn’t hungry anymore. “Why?”
“You got shot. You’re a penny-ante tracer, and you’re way out of your league. Leave this investigation to someone who’s better suited for it.”
“That’s what I was afraid of all along. You’re Tyet through and through. They don’t want me to find Josh, so you’re supposed to pat me on the head and send me home to wait for whenever his body turns up.” I pushed up off my chair. “You do whatever you want, Detective Price. But I am not quitting until I find him.”
I sagged and had to grab the counter to stay upright.
He watched me, the skin just beneath his right eye twitching. “I’m sure you’ll be a great help to him. Maybe you can faint and distract his captors. Of course you’ll only get yourself killed for your trouble. But you could be right. Bleeding all over their floors could free your sister’s boyfriend.”
“It’s better than just letting them kill him without bothering to try to get him back,” I retort
ed.
“But you don’t need to. I told you I would help you.”
“The stunning thing is that you just expect me to believe that because what, you’re a cop? That’s a second job. You are an enforcer for Gregg Touray. He owns you, body and soul.”
He slammed his plate into the sink. It shattered, the fork flying across the kitchen. “No one owns me.”
I snorted. “Who are you trying to kid? You had a price tag. I don’t know what it was, but Touray paid it a long time ago. You’ve been on his payroll ever since, and no one gets to break the rules or walk away.”
“There’s a flaw to your logic. The people attacking us yesterday worked for the Tyet, too. I’ll remind you that you weren’t the only one they were shooting at. I am in this with you.”
“On the other hand, you didn’t get hit. You’re a bigger physical target and you were between them and me. Don’t you find that odd?”
His mouth thinned. “Are you suggesting I was working with them? That I wanted you shot?”
I wasn’t, really. But it was a possibility. I said so.
“Why would I bother healing you, then? Why would I sit up for more than twenty-four hours holding your hand and worrying that I’d got you killed? I could have just let you die.”
He’d held my hand? “Twenty-four hours?” I repeated. Twenty-four? That meant Josh had been missing for nearly forty-eight.
“You lost a lot of blood. If you hadn’t had that blood null, I don’t know if you’d have made it. As it was, it slowed the bleeding enough to keep you alive. The bullet was a through and through, but I think it nicked something inside. I keep heal-alls on hand, just in case. You used up four of them. Lucky they worked. There was no way to fetch a tinker to help.”
I ran a hand through my hair. It shook. I’d come that close to actually dying. I didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Thanks.”
“You can trust me,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t be part of this. I’ll get it figured out. You just need to stay safe.”
Trace of Magic: 1 (The Diamond City Magic Novels) Page 12
