ArousingMemories
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Arousing Memories
Samantha Cayto
Agent Haley Walker is waging the battle of her life. She’s wielding her body as a seductive weapon to arouse memories buried in the mind of her lover, Noah Turner. If she fails, people will die. Her former lover and mentor, Severin Blake, teases her with his presence and adds fuel to her fire.
Severin played the dominating alpha male with Haley, and lost her. A bisexual man, he turned to Noah for solace. Haley’s proximity and plan strain his body and his patience. He stokes the flames with Noah while resisting the temptation of the woman he still loves.
A traumatized Noah is mentally lost. He doesn’t remember the two people showering him with attention and pleasure, although his body recognizes the dual arousal of soft woman and hard man. If only his mind could catch up.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Arousing Memories
ISBN 9781419936425
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Arousing Memories Copyright © 2011 Samantha Cayto
Edited by Helen Woodall
Cover design by Syneca
Photography: vgstudio/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication September 2011
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Arousing Memories
Samantha Cayto
Dedication
To Allie Standifer. You reach a certain age in life and think you are done making fabulous friends and then someone like Allie comes along. She is wicked and wonderful and knows how to show a New England girl a good time!
Chapter One
He watched the woman’s mouth descend over the head of his cock and engulf it in one long swallow, wet lips gliding over his taut flesh. A low moan emanated from somewhere deep within him. It sounded so distant, so unreal, yet the intense pleasure shooting up from his embedded cock felt very real. The dark curtain of the woman’s hair cascaded over his stomach and thighs. The silky strands tickled his hot body. Hot, so hot, everywhere. His body burned.
A soft tongue laved the underside of his hard shaft. It licked him all the way up to the top, pulling another groan from him before his erection slipped out of the woman’s wet warmth. A groan of protest rang in his ears. Her lips and teeth grated the head of his cock, teasing him. He was in no mood to play, however. He needed her touch and the release it would bring so he arched his body to meet those taunting lips. He tried to move his hands as well, to press the woman’s head more firmly to him. He wanted to push his cock back where it belonged inside the tight throat that could milk the cum from him. He couldn’t do it and wanted to howl his frustration. His arms were too heavy, the effort too hard. And yet he felt it again, those lips on his shaft, sucking and licking and tugging hard on his tortured flesh. The climax built from the glorious mouth’s unrelenting pull. He pumped his hips to speed the end. At least he tried, but his body wouldn’t move as he demanded. Everything was too damn hot and still not hot enough to make him come.
“Noah.” The voice was gentle and female. He knew it belonged to the woman whose mouth was still wrapped around his cock and sucking him to no end. How was it possible? And why couldn’t he come? His body heaved in frustration.
“Noah!” The voice was sharper now, commanding. He always obeyed that voice. What did she want him to do?
Something cool pressed against his burning forehead. “It’s all right. You’re going to be fine. Just rest, Noah.”
Noah? He knew that name, didn’t he? The thought slipped away as he tried to do as ordered. He tried to relax, but that mouth wouldn’t stop its assault on his cock. He needed the release. He begged for it. Make me come, please!
* * * * *
Haley sat on the side of the bed and watched helplessly as Noah moaned and writhed in jerky motions. His fever was still high and his discomfort clear. Not only did he moan and grimace, but the long ridge of his obvious erection tented the sheet that covered him. Severin Blake, her former lover and mentor and current rat-bastard, had confessed to her once that having a fever made him as horny as hell. She supposed it must be common to men. Normally the sight of this young man in such a state would have made her wet and willing in an instant. Now though, it merely added to her frustration and guilt.
She had trained Noah and sent him out into the field. She’d been his backup and had arrived too late to save him and his partner from the torture. Not her fault, she knew. Strike that, her head knew. Her heart said differently which was why she had barely left his side in the last two days. Jill Markowitz was dead. There was nothing to be done for the woman except ship what was left of her back to her family for burial. Noah, on the other hand, lived. Battered, bloody and fighting infection, yet alive and in need of her to sit vigil if nothing else.
Soft headed and soft hearted, Severin would say. Yet if he weren’t on a plane right now jetting toward them as fast as he could, he would take his turn by his friend’s side. She and Sev were both miserable with worry. She’d heard the fear in Sev’s voice over the phone when she told him about the mission’s total clusterfuck. If the guy hadn’t caused her so much pain a year ago, she’d be more compassionate. As it was, he would soon be in her way. She wanted to nurse Noah back to health, be there for him when the fever finally broke. And it would, she hoped. He needed time, was all. It’s what she told herself. It’s what she needed to believe.
A hand job wouldn’t hurt, either, she thought, and was immediately appalled. She was alone with the injured man in his quarters that had been converted into a makeshift hospital room. Still, the doctor tending to him or any of the other members of their organization roaming around the complex could come in at any time to see how he was doing. The last thing she needed was to be caught with her fingers wrapped around her protégé’s cock. It would be seen as predatory to say the least.
And yet the man was in need, no doubt about it. Two months ago he had given her carte blanche access to his body. Noah would never turn down an opportunity for sex. She was the gatekeeper in the relationship, dictating where, when and how. What harm was there really in giving him some relief? Maybe he would settle down with a good orgasm. Pushing aside the little voice in her head that screamed rationalization, Haley snuck her right hand under the sheet and slid it over to Noah’s thigh. The moment she touched his skin, she flinched from its heat. It wa
s as if his whole body burned.
The doctor said the fever was to be expected given the filthy place where the terrorists had scraped Noah’s skin open. Even a mild infection could turn into deadly sepsis despite the antibiotics pumped into him. Haley’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the thought she might still lose Noah. She wasn’t in love with him, not as she had been with Sev, but she cared for him deeply. They had become lovers despite her wariness of being involved with another man and a subordinate. He was lovely, though, and ultimately irresistible. His young body was toned and smooth and lightly covered in hair. Even now, his temperature did nothing to diminish his skin’s smooth tautness. She caressed him up to the ridges of his six-pack and inched her way down.
Noah quieted a bit at the contact and it emboldened her to continue. Her fingers crawled through the wiry pubic hairs that were the same chestnut brown as the hair on Noah’s head. She clasped the hard cock jutting out from them. He barked out a loud groan, but it was a familiar enough sound. It meant he enjoyed her touch. His shaft was familiar, too. Long and thick, but not too much so. She enjoyed how hard and heavy it lay within the circle of her fingers. Closing her eyes, she gave herself a moment to think about the delicious way this man’s cock could fill her pussy to perfect fullness. She let a small hum escape her lips as she pushed the foreskin down his head as far it would go and pulled it up again, imagining the cock sliding within her instead. Noah’s hips thrust to meet her strokes as if he, too, pictured them fucking. Three pumps did the trick. His semen spurted out, hotter than his skin, coating her fingers and his stomach. When he was done, he lay still, quieter than he had been.
Ignoring her own arousal, Haley removed her hand and walked to the bathroom. She pointedly dismissed the haggard face with the brown hair and brown eyes peering back at her in the mirror above the sink. There’d be time for a shower and some rest later. She ignored as well the nagging desire to slip a sticky finger inside her panties to rub the ache away. Not the appropriate time! Noah was all that mattered. With grim determination, Haley washed up and wet a cloth to clean her patient. No sense in letting everyone else know the treatment she had elected to use. Severin in particular would ride her mercilessly if he found out. The man had a way of getting under her skin. She wished it weren’t so, but it was useless to deny the truth.
He didn’t matter, though, and neither did she or her feelings for her old lover or the new one. It didn’t matter that Sev and Noah had something going on between them. They were all adults and given their job, in need of as much relaxation as they could get. What really mattered was Noah getting better, waking up and remembering what he had learned right before his cover was blown. Perhaps thousands of people’s lives depended on it.
* * * * *
“Amnesia? Are you fucking kidding me? I mean really, Doc.”
Haley shot Severin Blake an irritated look. Typical of the man, he dismissed and derided anything that didn’t fit neatly into his idea of how the universe worked. Typical, too, of the rat-bastard he looked sexily rumpled from his overnight flight. Sure, his black hair was sticking up in various directions, a five o’clock shadow darkened his square jaw and he undoubtedly smelled a bit sweaty. He could still walk in front of a camera and photograph well enough to a sell a million copies of some magazine. The guy always looked good, and she knew from experience his musk was better than any cologne he could ever buy. It was particularly galling how he could look so fuckable sitting at a conference table at eight in morning while she looked the way someone who had stayed up all night should look, like utter crap. Her hair was tangled, her makeup long worn off and as for her smell? Not a scent you’d try to spritz on someone as they walked through a department store, that was for sure. To hide her discomfort, Haley opened her mouth to admonish her ex-lover, but the agency head beat her to it.
“Mr. Blake, I’ll thank you to keep your vulgarity and your voice down.” Phoebe McGillicutty may have had a cute name, but there was nothing remotely cute about the woman herself. She was the original Iron Lady, Margaret Thatcher being a cheap knockoff for all that the former Prime Minister had come first. Ms. Mac, as she was known to her operatives, ruled the international counterterrorism agency with ruthless efficiency and success. She sat now at the head of the table, face grim as always, her short, gray hair sitting on her head like a cap. She didn’t have any makeup on either, although for her, it was normal. Even though she was middle-aged, she had flawless skin and a natural beauty. She was also the only woman Haley knew who could make Severin squirm like a schoolboy. He was doing so now.
“Sorry, ma’am, I’m under-slept and under-informed.” His eyes slanted toward Haley briefly, and she could see something he rarely let her see, worry. Damn him, he always had a way of getting straight to her heart. She had no time to dwell on it, however, as Ms. Mac took back both their attentions.
“We’re all in the same condition, Mr. Blake. This situation is extremely worrisome. Mr. Turner’s and Ms. Markowitz’s true identities were discovered by the terrorists after months of a carefully planned infiltration, and the only reason Mr. Turner is still alive is because the terrorists bolted from their lair, leaving timed explosives to do the job. They must have known Ms. Walker was on her way. We can’t rule out that we have a traitor among us who is either a dedicated convert to the cause of anarchy or is simply looking to make quick money. Either way, if true, we have a serious problem on our hands.”
Sev muttered a nasty word under his breath. Haley couldn’t blame him. She felt the same way. If someone had betrayed Noah and Jill, she was going to find the son of a bitch and disembowel them.
Ms. Mac ignored the breach of protocol this time and continued. “Our most immediate concern is foiling the imminent attack. Turner’s memory is the only way we have to determine what is going to occur in the Boston area and when.” She turned her gaze to Dr. Camille Alvarez, who had been giving her medical report on Noah’s condition when Sev had interrupted so rudely. She was a quiet, competent woman and Haley was glad she was the one caring for Noah. “Please continue your report, Doctor.”
“Yes ma’am. As I was saying, Noah is suffering from the kind of amnesia that affects specifics about his life and the world around him while keeping intact more basic knowledge such as motor coordination, language, object recognition. For example, he knows he is a man, but not which man. He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know my name.” Flicking her gaze toward Haley, she added, “He doesn’t know Ms. Walker’s name.”
The last example hit Haley hard in the gut. It had been about an hour since Noah had turned his light-green eyes toward her and, after a moment’s hesitation, admitted he didn’t know who she was. His admission had hurt, she couldn’t deny it. It was painful to be a stranger to this man whom she knew so well, so intimately. Even though his lack of recognition was completely beyond his control, it didn’t ease the pain. She hadn’t realized how important her relationship with Noah was to her. She knew now.
“So he wouldn’t remember me, either?”
This question came quietly from Sev, and when Haley looked at him, she could only see his profile as he addressed the question to the doctor. Even so, she could see enough of his expression to know he was hurt by Noah having forgotten him. And, damn the man again, he was pricking her empathy, making her feel sorry for him. For him! When all she wanted was to not care about this man who had wounded her pride and, hell, broken her heart when he walked away from what they had.
“I’m afraid not,” the doctor answered.
“At what point, if ever, could we expect him to recover his memory?” asked Ms. Mac.
The doctor grimaced. “That is the problem. I have no way to determine if he will regain any of his memories let alone which ones. It’s not uncommon for trauma victims to lose forever the memories of what happened in the hours and even days before the event.”
“Which are exactly the ones we want,” Sev interjected. “We need to know what these homegrown crazies discussed
in the warehouse meeting. I still can’t believe they have the unmitigated balls to call themselves The True Sons of America,” he added in a mutter.
Haley interjected at this point because she had been backing Noah in the mission, his contact at home base while he infiltrated the organization. “We know it’s going to be an explosion, a big one.”
Sev turned to her and gave a rueful smile. “Is there any other kind?”
It wasn’t meant to be the kind of smile that seduced, she knew that one all too well. Yet she still had to ignore the heat igniting deep within her at the mere sight of his eyes. They were a deep blue, an interesting contrast to his dark hair. Black Irish, and the man certainly had Celtic charm to spare. She had fallen for it within minutes, and had tumbled head over fucking heels in love once she had tasted his magnificent body. The mere thought of how she had once clung to him in passion roused her senses, and she crossed her legs to stop the tingle rising between them. Or, perhaps her subconscious wanted to increase the feeling because the pressure on her clit made her juices flow more.
She had to grip the armrests hard to refocus her attention to where it belonged. She deliberately kept her voice cool. No sense in letting the man know how he got to her. “Point taken,” she replied. “Anyway, we know it will occur sometime in the next week or so to coincide with the Fourth. Noah managed to relay that information to me earlier in the mission, although he didn’t know whether it would happen on the exact day.”
Sev picked up the conversational ball. “These nutjobs like symbolism, so the target has to be something related to the Revolutionary War and independence.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, happy to be engaged in the important issue at hand. “And this being Boston, we have lots to choose from.” The room where they sat was actually in a Boston suburb. Their “offices” were located in a converted factory from the nineteenth century. From where she sat, Haley could see the Charles River meandering by. She mulled over the target choices out loud. “In Boston proper we have Faneuil Hall, the State House, Paul Revere’s House, the Old North Church.”