by Sarah Blair
He trailed a path of slow, lingering kisses down her neck, darted his tongue out to touch the thrum of her pulse. As he moved to her collarbone, the softness of his lips turned to the scrape of teeth. His tongue was hot and wet as he laved over the spot and bit down again. The low groan that came from the back of his throat sounded too much like a growl.
Before she could stop herself she had him pinned to the couch with both hands closed around his throat.
“It’s me,” he wheezed. “Sid, let go.”
It took her an extra few seconds to convince her brain that this man wasn’t the creature she’d encountered in the morgue.
She released him and he leaned forward, red-faced and choking for air. She wrapped her arms around his body, buried her face against him.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“My fault,” he said after he recovered. “I should have known better.”
Sidney rested her forehead against his shoulder, arms draped around his back, clinging to him as her body trembled.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He tried to pry her away, but she hung on even harder. “It’s fine, Sid. I’m fine.”
She shook her head against him, then sat up. “It’s not fine. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me.”
“I just did!” She scrambled off his lap onto the sofa.
He removed the chenille throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cape. “Like I said: my fault. You were attacked and bitten a few days ago. It’s a perfectly understandable reaction. Anyone else in your situation would have done the same. I’m sorry.”
Sidney considered his words for a moment while he curled her hair behind her ear.
“No more teeth?”
He drew an X across his chest with his finger.
She allowed the tension to ease out of her shoulders. “Can we go to the bedroom?”
“Lead the way.”
Fifteen
It didn’t take long for her to relearn the contours of his chest and the way the muscles in his back moved as he climbed onto the bed. They lay lengthwise with him on top, supporting himself on his elbows while they took their time kissing, working back up to where they’d left off.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“Touch me. Everywhere. I want your hands on me.”
He worked her jeans off, but left her pale pink panties on. She wanted them off too, but there was really no reason to rush.
He moved to the inside of her thigh, dropping kisses here and there while he ran his hand up and down her leg. He kneeled on the floor by the bed, throwing her leg over his shoulder, letting her foot rest on his back. With his free hand he eased her other leg to the side, spreading her wide open for him.
Digging in to the duvet, she drew in a sharp breath as he touched his lips to the paper-thin fabric, right over the place she wanted him to touch the most.
“Relax,” he said, and placed a kiss where her thigh joined her body.
“I am.”
“Why are your knuckles white?” He ran his finger over her the back of her hand.
“Are you seriously talking right now?”
It was so hard to form the words for the sentence.
“I want to make sure you’re enjoying it.”
He lifted his face, gray eyes wide. The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he was teasing.
“I’d enjoy it a lot more without the underwear.”
“All in good time.” The words were honey smooth, and made her squirm.
He spent more time with her legs, behind her knees, down her calf muscles, the arch of her feet. Strong hands massaged, while his tongue heated her flesh. When he came back up, she thought for sure he would free her from the lacy prison of her underwear, but he didn’t.
It made her crazy when he rubbed his thumb along her most sensitive area, through the fabric. She may as well have been locked inside a chastity belt for all the good it did her. The smell of desire on their skin mixed and mingled between them.
It was too much.
“Please,” she begged. “I need more.”
He gave her what she asked for. After her knickers came off, it wasn’t long before she writhed beneath him. He worked her core like he kissed her mouth, long strokes of his tongue sliding against her. Together with his fingers, he knew all the right places to touch, and exactly how to draw out the most obscene sounds from deep within her.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.” She inhaled deeply and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back, wanting to wait for him so they could come together.
“Who says you only get one turn?”
The bed sank under his weight, then his mouth was on her breast, sucking hard. At the same time his fingers slipped inside, touching that place deep within her. She lost the last of her control.
Sidney dug her nails into his shoulder while her body clenched around him.
“That’s my girl. Let go.” He kissed the side of her face, then moved his fingers more, drawing out her pleasure again and again, until she’d given everything she could.
“Feel better?” He spoke into her hair while he smoothed his hand up and down the gentle curve of her hip.
“Mm hmm.”
When she recovered a bit, she sat at the edge of the bed and removed the rest of Mitch’s clothes. Then, they threw back the duvet and climbed between the sheets. His eyes were the darkest gray she’d ever seen them. He lay next to her, with his head propped up on his hand. He pushed her hair off her shoulder so he could see all of her, while she gave him a mischievous little smile and wrapped her hand around him.
Mitch wasn’t the first man she’d ever been with, but he was definitely the one she’d been with the most. It made her happy that she knew his secrets. She knew that when she wrapped her fist around him and rubbed her thumb in that one little spot, he would shut his eyes and grow in her hand. She grinned wide when he reacted, then she did it again.
She nudged him onto his back and he stretched out, closing his eyes while she took her turn with him. It had been awhile, but she found her rhythm quickly enough. She gave as good as she got. Taking him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his head, squeezing her hand around his base. His hips took up a gentle rhythm beneath her while she worked.
After a few moments, he tugged her hair and she lifted her head.
His chest rose and fell heavily with short breaths. She grinned and gave his cock one more kiss, then moved up beside him. Just as she was about to ask who should be on top, he was there hovering over her, the tip of his head at her opening.
As earlier, he took it slow, teasing her. He rubbed against her outside, parting her ever so slightly, and the ache of desire filled her again. She kept her eyes locked on his while he toyed with her.
“Talk about a cock tease,” her voice shook.
He dipped his head inside her and held still.
She lifted her hips, drawing him in a little further. He was definitely harder than she ever remembered.
“You okay?” she whispered while she drew wide slow circles on his back.
“You feel so good. Too good.”
Sidney grinned. Her body ached for him to go all the way, to be complete and full. But she wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. “Take your time.”
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and asked her the silent question. She nodded, pulling her knees up, opening herself to him. He kissed her as he drove into her, up to the hilt, with one stroke.
It had definitely been awhile, he was big and she was tight. He held still for a moment until her body eased around him. When he did move, it was hard for her to maintain control. She shut her eyes and enjoyed the feel of him inside her. She traced the curve of his neck, and memorized the way his arms tightened as he held himself above her, and how his hips moved as he drove himself in and out of her body. His breath came faster and his stomach tightened, goosebumps
rose across his chest, and she knew he was close.
She matched the rhythm of his hips, stroke for stroke, as their bodies came together again and again. It didn’t take long for her to throw her head back and cry out. A few seconds later he joined her with a groan, and they rode out the wave with each other until they were completely sated and collapsed in a tangle of limbs neither of them cared to unravel.
Sixteen
The night was quiet and Sidney couldn’t be sure if the echo of a scream she’d heard was real. The shadows in her parents’ room were deep and dark. She opened her mouth to call out, but no sound came, no matter how hard she tried.
Something moved.
The massive wardrobe stood solid against her back as she squinted into the darkness. A breeze caught the curtains at the French doors to the terrace, making them billow out into the room like ghostly fingers reaching for her. Moonlight flickered across the intricate design of the parquet floors.
The enormous hand carved bed her parents slept in was at the far end of the room, two steps up from the sitting area where she stood. She wanted to jump up on the bed to find solace between her sleeping parents, but something kept her feet stuck to the floor.
A low growl rumbled out from the bed.
The breath left her body like that time she’d fallen out of the tree in the yard and landed flat on her back. Her whole body felt like it was filled with lead.
She felt blindly along the polished mahogany, fumbling for the drawer pull. She was too afraid to turn around, afraid to show her back to whatever made that awful sound.
She’d seen the nature shows. She knew what happened to animals that tried to run.
It chose that moment to pounce.
Teeth, eyes, claws charged at her.
Fear paralyzed her until she felt the breath on her face. It was the last second possible, but she rolled out of the way. The crash it made hitting the wardrobe hurt her ears.
The thing fell to the floor, unmoving.
Her father’s gun was in the back of the drawer. She’d have to move the creature to get it. She should run while it was knocked out. But it would come after her. The only way to be sure she was safe was to kill it.
She bit her lip and made her choice. It took all of her weight to move the heavy body enough to open the drawer. She felt around in the back and lifted the lid to a plain box hidden under a sweater. The box was soft inside, red velvet, she knew, from seeing it in the daylight when her father had opened it.
The metal chilled her palm as she traced the tip of her finger over the edge of the barrel and eased the gun out of the box. Her father always kept it loaded. That’s why, he told her, she should never, ever touch it.
But this was an emergency.
The thing moved. The drawer closed on her arm. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, and bit down hard on her lip to keep her scream from leaking out. It struggled, trying to climb to its huge paws. When Sidney was free, she brought out the gun and aimed it just the way her father had shown her.
The weapon was heavy.
The thing turned on her. It stuck out a long tongue and licked its dripping muzzle, revealing huge, sharp teeth.
Sidney held her ground, not by choice so much as because she was too afraid to move. She knew she wasn’t supposed to look an animal straight in the eyes, but she couldn’t help it. She was too frightened to turn away.
It lunged.
The gun exploded. She was on her back, its front paws heavy on her shoulders, pinning her to the ground. She turned her head to the side as it opened its huge mouth, ready to crush her skull in its jaws.
She squeezed the trigger again. The fur muffled the shots, and she felt the heat of the muzzle through her pajamas, but she didn’t stop firing until long after the gun clicked empty.
The thing crushed her under its weight.
Blood.
So much blood.
It leaked out hot and wet all over her.
She kicked and shoved, trying to get out from under it, but the harder she tried, the heavier it became.
Sidney opened her eyes to darkness. It felt as if she were being strangled from the inside out. She struggled in the ocean of sheets, like a drowning victim reaching out for anything she could grab onto, coughing and gulping down air, trying to refill her lungs.
“Breathe through your nose, sweetheart.” Mitch rolled onto his back. His words were slurred with sleep. “I’ll get you some water.”
She wanted to tell him he shouldn’t get up, but she was nothing but a shaking, gasping mess in the middle of the bed.
The light turned on in the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened and shut. He left the light on when he came back and she was grateful for it. The bed sank with his weight as he crawled in next to her. He pushed her hair to the side and pressed the bottle between her shoulder blades. The shock of cold surprised her enough that she sucked in a deep breath as a reflex.
“Better?”
She nodded.
He opened the bottle and gave it to her. She took it with both hands and still managed to spill some before she got it to her mouth. She drank it down like she’d walked through Death Valley at high noon.
He rubbed his hand up and down her bare back, kissed her shoulder.
“What time is it?” Her throat was raw.
“Nearly four,” he yawned.
They’d only been out a few hours.
“Think you can get back to sleep?”
“Not sure I want to.” She handed him the water. He took a few gulps, replaced the cap, and set it on the bedside table. He leaned back against the pillows and pulled her into his arms. They were both still naked. Memories of their love-making came back to her, helping to chase away some of the darkness of her nightmare.
“Same as always?” He rested his cheek against her head.
She played with the edge of the duvet. “Worse. I didn’t wake up when it pounced on me. It wanted to eat me.”
“Your subconscious trying to deal with what happened in the morgue.”
“Now you sound like my grandfather.”
“I’m not dismissing it, only trying to help you make sense out of this mess.” He squeezed her hand and wrapped his arms around her tighter.
She sighed. “You’re right. It makes sense. But it seemed so real. I felt the heat from Daddy’s gun when I fired it.”
Mitch’s chest stopped rising and falling against her back. She was ready to turn around to ask if he was okay when he kissed her cheek and scooted them back down in the bed.
“You’re safe now.” He wrapped his arm around her. “Try to get some sleep.”
Seventeen
Sidney stretched out across the bed and yawned. The smell of fresh coffee and soft sounds from the kitchen let her know Mitch was near. After the dream she’d had, it was nice not to wake up alone.
The pale light of early morning streamed in through the open bedroom door. She wanted nothing more than to stay there, snuggled up in the warmth and comfort of Mitch’s scent.
The thought of what they enjoyed together the night before came back to her and she grinned. The hope of more finally drove her out of bed. She grabbed one of his t-shirts and put it on before she went to the kitchen to find him.
He stood at the sink, rinsing something off in dark trousers and a fresh undershirt. Dress shirt and tie were missing. She liked that even though they could wear whatever they wanted to work, he still chose his traditional Bureau uniform.
“Morning,” he said.
“You’re up early.”
“I’m always up early.”
“Thought maybe I wore you out last night.”
Sidney peeked in the sink and picked a fresh strawberry out of the colander. She opened her mouth to take a bite, but he grabbed her wrist and directed it toward his own mouth. He took a bite, then he leaned in and gave her a kiss, leaving a sweet taste on her own lips.
“It was worth it.”
He turned away to flip something in
the skillet and she couldn’t help but stare at his back, grinning like an idiot. He was always in a good mood after a night like they’d had, but this was a whole new level of feisty. It pleased her to be the one who drew out his playful side.
“Something smells good.” She nibbled on the rest of the strawberry as she pondered this new man.
“Omelets,” he said. “Coffee’s ready too.”
“Thanks.” Sidney helped herself to the milk in the refrigerator. Her favorite mug, the blue one with FBI printed in gold letters, was already sitting out next to the coffee maker. She poured the milk in, returned it to the fridge, then added the coffee.
Leaning against the counter, she sipped and watched him cook. It was a nice way to wake up. A lot better than rushing to throw on some clothes, and grabbing a quick danish on the way to Grand Central to catch a train downtown. She decided she could get used to this after all.
“What?” He noticed her watching.
She wondered if this was what it was like to be happy. As soon as the thought flickered into her mind, she wished it hadn’t come. And she certainly wouldn’t dare to speak the words aloud. Merely thinking it was enough to tempt Fate.
“I like a man who can cook.” She smacked his ass and went back to the sink for more strawberries, hoping he hadn’t noticed her pause or the way her smile faltered
Before she could grab another piece of fruit, he turned her around and pressed her up against the counter. She suddenly remembered Dimitrius, the way he’d pinned her against the desk, and stared at her with those hungry eyes, begging her to taste him.
Mitch’s mouth was on hers, but instead of enjoying his kiss, the memory of Dimitrius overwhelmed her.
The wide neck of the t-shirt slipped down her shoulder and he dotted a trail of kisses along her exposed skin.
“The eggs are going to burn,” Sidney said.
“So?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her nose against his neck, but he was fresh out of the shower and smelled like soap. She couldn’t find that citrusy sweet scent that was so much a part of him. He moved his hand up the back of her thigh and squeezed her bare bottom. His erection grew hard against her abdomen.
