Dead Reckoning

by C. J. Snyder

  Damn was way too tame. Holy frijoles was better.

  “Going to run?”

  Until he asked, she’d have said yes. It’s what she did, who she was. But somehow, tonight, with this man, so like herself, so unlike anyone she’d ever met... “No.”

  He grinned, even as his eyes told her, “You amaze me.” Interesting, this sensation of pleasing a man just by being herself. “Viper will can my ass.”

  Maria smiled She didn’t know or care about the being or object known as Viper. “I’ll never tell,” she whispered.

  “Finish your beer, Maria.” He dropped a twenty on the small table, took her hand. Sent flames coursing through her body. “How much sleep do you need His hotel room was like the bar: seedy, desperate. Making love with Peter was neither. In short order he became her lover, her friend, her life. Time between his assignments was spent wherever they could meet the fastest. She loved him intensely, needed him more than he needed her, and, in the end, couldn’t make him less a man than he was.

  Ten years since Ice had destroyed her life, and she had yet to move on, to feel whole again. Yet to kiss a man.

  Until tonight. In the dim glow of the lights from her Mule’s front panel, she slid him a surreptitious glance. Ghost seemed lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed straight ahead, but she could sense the tension, overly tight, dangerous. Strange how this man who dealt mostly in mind games, came off as more dangerous than Blade. Blade’s skill with knives had been legendary. More lethal than Ghost, definitely. But Peter always spoke peace to her soul. Nothing about Ghost invoked peace. Too much pain in his eyes. Too much tension radiated out of muscles that should be resting. With Greg there was simply. . .too much. He bothered her, made her feel things long dead. Peter had soothed her like the sound of a brook. Greg had her hearing tornado sirens,

  The substitution of memories didn’t overwrite Greg’s not-so-subtle pull on her emotions either. “Did I make a mistake tonight?” She jumped at the sudden question. When he stroked her bare thigh with a single finger, she willed her body to be still, but couldn’t stop her hands from tightening around the wheel.

  “No.” She should have evaded the question, feigned innocence, made him explain, at least given herself time for some distance. But what was the point? She needed him off-guard, needed access to his communicator. She didn’t need more of his touch, certainly not that, but she craved his skin on hers nonetheless. She didn’t understand why. Didn’t really want to think about why.

  “Good.” Mykael turned up the air conditioning, then when that didn’t begin to cool the heat washing through her body in waves, she rolled down the window and punched the accelerator. Ghost’s finger still played her thigh, however, and even her powerful Mule couldn’t outrun the sensations pouring through her. Another quick glance revealed his eyes remained focused outside the windshield.

  “How far?” he wondered.

  “Another couple of hours.”

  “That long, hmm?”

  Dark the color of the desert flew by outside, only the light from the dash illuminated their features, but she prayed he’d keep his eyes on the windshield. No telling what he could see if he didn’t. Mule’s spacious cab shrank by the second. Greg’s sensuous assault on her leg continued, still a single finger, danced softly, ever higher, fueled a fire that raged in her belly and lower. Part of her wanted out. Now. Another part, deeper, unfamiliar, wanted to beg him to continue. Go farther.

  “Mykael.”

  She didn’t answer–couldn’t trust her voice not to betray her.

  “Get off the highway.”

  Anxiety flared and her eyes shot to the rear view mirror. Had he seen something? Someone? Then his palm flattened on her thigh, fingers splayed wide as he used his right hand to brush her hair back behind her ear. He leaned close. Now his breath tickled her cheek. “Reno’s too far.”

  She told herself she took the Walker Lake exit to give herself some room. She believed it as the scenery grew more primitive, as Mule rocked off the road, into the wilderness. As soon as the wheels stopped, she shut off the engine and barreled out the door, but when he followed her out the driver’s side, she turned into his arms, up on her toes, fingers thrust up into the crisp-cut hair at his collar. His lips crushed hers, fed the crazy frenzy that had started hours ago at the hotel.

  He lifted her, backing her into the truck, and she wrapped her legs around his waist with a muffled moan as he plundered her mouth. There were no words, just his hands, his mouth, communicating a need that matched her own.

  Her breasts were freed, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the hot burst of his breath. She couldn’t remember a time when her nipples hadn’t ached for the expert attention he gave to them now. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, ripped the soft material in her haste to know the texture of his skin, taste him as he tasted her.

  “Need to slow down,” he groaned, when her fingers moved lower, worked his belt, then his zipper. “No,” she cried, but unnecessarily, as his fingers slid up her thighs. The buckles holding her sheathed knife to her leg opened, but the sound of her blade dropping to the ground and her automatic protest was swallowed by his kiss. His fingers never stopped, grazed up under her skirt, brushed aside her panties and plunged deep inside. She climaxed violently, shuddered against his hand, cried out helplessly.

  His hands stilled, every muscle in his hard body suddenly rigid. She thrust against his fingers, sending off more shockwaves and he groaned again as he grabbed her hips and held her hard against the side of the truck. For the first time, she met his eyes, stunned by the unmerciful control she read, even as he smiled.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered and it was nearly a plea.

  Understanding splashed over her like sweet rainfall and Mykael grinned, not about to be the only one out of control here. “Fat chance,” she whispered back. She reached for him again. “At least get a condom—my back pocket.”

  “We won’t make it that far,” she promised, pausing to slide her hands over the rigid length of him straining hard against his jeans. He shoved into the juncture of her thighs, trapping her hand between them, freeing his hands to cup her face and turn it up to his.

  “Yeah,” he whispered against her mouth. “We most certainly will.” She had time for one more glimpse of that amazing determination as well as amusement before his mouth claimed her again, stoked a blaze that should have been extinguished but most definitely was not. Suddenly floundering for control, she curled her fingers around him, fighting to win their unspoken bet.

  Instead, it was her own moan that spilled into the night air as he lifted her higher and drew her pebbled nipple into his clever mouth. He raised his knee to support her, fingers once more sliding up under her skirt while she writhed against him.

  “Hang on,” he whispered and kissed her again, her breasts now grazed the strong, steady muscles of his chest, one arm around her waist held her away from the truck. The tattered remains of her underwear fell to the rocky ground below her feet and it was his turn to grin. He perched her on his uplifted knee again, grin fading as his eyes devoured her virtually naked body. She kept her hands on his shoulders for balance, not able to trust her own in the crazy, spinning world he’d erected around her. Unable to do more than watch as he freed and sheathed himself, amazed by the volumes his eyes spoke to her, and more than a little shaken by his intensity, she shivered when he wrapped her legs back around his waist and she could close her eyes again.

  The feel of his skin, bare against hers, had her trembling. Strong, sure hands cupped her bottom, fingers traced close to the center of the heat devouring her. The cool metal of the truck against her shoulders again and his mouth over hers, soft, surprising her.

  “Look at me,” he murmured, but she couldn’t, didn’t want a connection like that, not when she was overloaded by the physical sensation of his body and her own response, already ashamed of her own lack of control in the face of his overwhelming ability for it.

  Instead, she cupped his face
, her eyes still firmly closed. “Please,” she panted and slid her tongue into his mouth. A sound, part groan–part cry, as his control snapped. He slid inside, stretched her, filled her full, exacted a whimper when he withdrew, only to shove into her again. Once, twice, four times and she exploded again, breath hard to find, shuddering, shivering and hoping she’d be able to find all the pieces.

  Greg pushed into her twice more, prolonged the bone-shaking tremors and then she felt his release, just as violent as her own. His hands caressed her rear, supporting her but letting her know he hadn’t yet had enough of her. She could feel his eyes on her, almost as if he waited for her to look at him but she took a moment more, closed inside the cocoon he’d built for her, still joined, yet worlds apart. Only when he eased out of her, leaving her feeling inexplicably cold and alone, did she open her eyes. His held hints of surprise and the amusement she’d seen before.

  “That was–“

  ”Incredible,” she breathed, because it was. An aftershock sent a shiver through her and he smiled.

  “I was going to say ‘fast’. I–it’s been awhile.”

  The admission surprised her. “Fast is good.” She’d bet on the ‘been awhile’ curve she could go him a few years longer.

  “Slow is better.” She might have argued, but really wasn’t in the mood. The liquid sensations still sparkled through her body and left her dazed and more than a little disoriented. She couldn’t possibly be naked in the desert with a man she’d only met today. Just the thought left her unsettled, but she couldn’t stop her smile.

  He returned it without asking what it was for, opened the truck rear door to her right, set her gently on the seat. Like he could see in the dark, and read her mind, he retrieved her knife, still sheathed and placed it next to her thigh on the seat. Then he unscrewed the top off a bottle of water, placed it in her hands and kissed her cheek. “Don’t move.”

  Again, she didn’t argue. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a swift thought flitted that she ought to be challenging him, ought to wrest back control of the situation. “Soon,” she appeased the rebel idea, pleased when it simply went away.

  Greg was busy at the rear of the truck; it dipped and bounced under his weight and then he was back, sliding a finger down her nose, over her cheekbone and then into her hair to pull her close for another mind-blowing kiss.

  Another warning flare shot off in her mind, but it was easy to ignore when she believed she needed nothing more than this man, this kiss, this moment. The abyss was gone, or at least far enough at bay that she couldn’t feel the hungry tentacles reaching for her. Freedom from the ever-present monster mingled with the scents of the moment: the lake, sex and cinnamon. He lifted her back into his arms, then they were moving, but it wasn’t until she felt the sleeping bag beneath her that she opened her eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Proving my point.” He stretched out beside her in the truck bed, up on his elbow while his other hand splayed over her stomach to hold her still.

  “There’s a point?”

  He kissed her, started slow and soft but it continued until her languorous heart thudded back to life. “Slow is better,” he whispered.

  Despite her body’s inclination to let him make his point, Mykael shook her head. “We need to get to Reno.”

  “We will. Relax and look at the stars.” She pushed at his hand, but he only clamped down on her harder. “That’s an order, Decoy.”

  She frowned, slid out from under his hand and sat up. “I don’t take orders from you.” He merely smiled, his fingers stroked the underside of her crooked knee. “You’re right. But you could.” He bent to drop a kiss at her waist, then moved to her hip and back to traverse her spine. The sensation of soft, moist kisses and the continued caresses at her knee had her belly tighten with pleasure and left her swaying where she sat. “Sit, if you’d rather.” His voice was muffled against her skin, his kisses too knowing, too intimate.

  Mykael lay down to get him to stop. The tactic worked, Greg moved effortlessly out of her way. “I could sue you for harassment.” Delight at her acquiescence shone from his eyes, radiated from the grin, creased the corners of his mouth. “Probably should. In which case, you really ought to let me continue, so you have all the pertinent facts.” His hand stilled, which eased her misgivings, but she had to look away from those haunting eyes, so she looked up at the stars, brilliantly clear in the night sky. The air was cool on her skin, nearby Walker Lake scenting the nearly nonexistent breeze with its presence. Coupled with the smell of the lake was that lovely hint of cinnamon and she closed her eyes, anticipated his kiss, relaxed when it came, gentle and reassuring. Interesting, the difference in levels of intensity he could manufacture within her.

  “You’re beautiful, Mykael.” His voice was husky, and stabbed at her heart so painfully she reached to rub the wound. Before she could, he caught her hand, pressed a kiss into her palm. “How long do I have?”

  “For what?” Surprised, she glanced up into his eyes and was trapped. “To prove my point.” He would brook no deception. In an instant, she knew her error. Those eyes, haunted…haunting, laid her bare as he spoke, seeing too much, already knowing too much. To acknowledge, however, was to lose, so she did her best to smile benignly.

  “About another minute or two.” The concession was a minute more than she wanted to give him, but she didn’t see another way out except to take off in a flat dead run. She didn’t have enough energy for that thanks to his hands and his mouth.

  Greg smiled. “Best get to it, then, hadn’t I?” Later, she couldn’t decide if he’d made his point at all. There’d been nothing slow in the sensual, toe-curling assault he’d launched on her defenseless body. Before the sixty seconds she’d agreed to was over, she was panting, restless and desperate all over again. The key, she decided minutes after her third orgasm, was the intensity. She’d agreed to a minute or two. Fifty had passed before he rolled her to her back, both of them pulsing.

  Greg’s forehead touched hers, breath still wild, heart still racing under her fingertips as he caressed her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. “What’s the verdict?” She wouldn’t look at him as she handed over a grudging victory. “It’s not necessarily better,” she murmured, turned her head to allow him to nuzzle her neck, which had the dual benefit of the heady thrill of his kiss there, and the ability to smile without those all-knowing eyes seeing it. “Slow is. . .longer.”

  He laughed, kissed each side of her mouth and collapsed on his back next to her, absently catching up her hand in the process. Without looking, he reached over his head, located a water bottle and offered it to her.

  The stars began to blink out, one by one, heralded a dawn she wasn’t ready to face. “Mission accomplished?”

  “The getting to know you mission?” He brought her fingers to his lips then released her hand. “Not even close. But I believe we made some good progress. Ready to hit the road?” Disappointment flared deep inside. Because she wanted him to sleep, of course, which would allow her access to his communicator. Ice’s files. Her plan. It had nothing to do with the foreign contentment lapping over her in waves. Nor the strange yearning to put her head on his shoulder. “When are we expected?”

  “Not until this afternoon. We’ve got time. I’ll put you in charge of the schedule. If you want to sleep for a bit, I’ll grab your clothes.” The plan was for him to sleep, not her, but she couldn’t tell him that. “Maybe just rest a while.” The next thing she knew, he’d scooped her up and settled her head on his shoulder. The sensation left her with cold dread squeezing her heart. And comfort so sweet she suddenly wanted to cry. There was silence while she willed her unruly emotions away, lying perfectly still so he’d go to sleep and she could complete her mission.

  She thought she might be successful as long minutes passed in silence broken only by the morning songs of a few birds overhead. Then his fingers brushed over her bare shoulder. “It’s interesting–that you and Blade were close.”r />
  She tensed instinctively, then forced her muscles to relax. She didn’t want to talk about Blade. Didn’t want to remember the last time she’d lain in a man’s arms. “Why interesting?” “I heard a rumor that Peter wanted out.” Mykael couldn’t hear over the sudden rush of blood in her ears. Cold ice swept through her veins, as the abyss roared back to life, yawning underneath, larger than Nevada, sucking at her soul, declaring her a fraud, a cheat, unfaithful…. She lay frozen, barely able to breathe, while Greg calmly blew up her world.

  “He’d found a woman, loved her.” Shudders assaulted her. To hide them, she sat up, wrapped the sleeping bag around her shoulders as she scooted to the lowered tailgate of her truck. No one had known. No one but Peter. And Ice. Could Greg be Ice?

  “No.” She couldn’t be sure she hadn’t spoken the denial out loud. Greg was Ghost, not Ice. But how did he know? “Did Peter ever mention any of that to you?” Mykael squeezed her eyes shut and willed her voice to be calm. “No.” All business now, and there weren’t any roles she couldn’t assume while working. She turned to face him, needed to see him to determine what he knew, how he knew. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “I ran into an old friend of his awhile back. Interesting, don’t you think?”

  “Would they have let him?” She knew the danger, knew he saw more than he should. She veiled her eyes as best she knew how, heartened when her voice sounded clear and crisp. “Let him quit?” He smiled. “Don’t see why not. Viper would’ve tried to talk him out of it, of course. Nobody was better with a knife than Blade.”

  And no one knew that better than she. “But he could have walked away?” Peter had told her he’d been about to do just that when he got word of his impending execution. “Of course he could.” Greg eliminated the distance between them and kissed her. Mykael wanted to scrub her lips clean when he sat back. “Ice quit.” He touched her nose. “We’re not the mafia, angel.”