by Tasha Black
And there was another mark mixed in, long, and jagged on one side, like a serrated blade. Traces of bright white powder tinged the edge in places.
Something about the powder was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“West, what do you think this is?” she asked, pointing at the strange mark among the footprints. “Could it be some kind of weapon?”
That couldn’t be right, there were too many of them.
She turned to look at West as he studied the marks for a minute.
“I think I know who has Dalton,” he said excitedly. “Remember our meeting with the Alpha Division?”
“The guy with the prosthetic,” she breathed. “Gibbons?”
“Gibson,” West corrected.
He had a gift for names. She supposed it came in handy when so much of your job involved making people feel important.
“Now we just need to figure out where to find them,” West said sadly.
Cordelia touched the powder again, rubbing it between her fingers.
There was something so familiar about it.
18
Sterling couldn’t breathe.
She tried to focus on the cool concrete blocks behind her head to calm herself, but it wasn’t easy to remain calm when you were pinned against the wall by your neck.
Somehow, she still felt her wrist throbbing from the way Dalton had twisted it.
Not that she could blame him. She’d kidnapped him and locked him up. All was fair in love and war, and as far as Dalton was concerned this was war. And that was exactly what he’d been trained for.
Damn it, how had she let herself drop that phone?
He had taken her by surprise all over again even though she should have seen it a mile away. She would always have a blind spot when it came to Dalton.
Coming back for him was a mistake.
One that she would probably pay for with her life.
She’d been so sure he had it under control. Was she really wrong about that?
Sterling’s lungs burned. The edges of her vision softened and then went gray.
Desperate, she met Dalton’s gaze, trying to pour some humanity back into him.
Please. We’ve been through so much. I can get us through this, too. You just have to trust me.
The electric blue glow faded from Dalton’s eyes. His grip loosened, just a little. Enough to allow a shallow breath, although she was still clamped like a bear trap.
She drank in the tiny sip of air gratefully.
And decided to take one more crazy chance on Dalton.
She had known she needed him for this to work. But she was beginning to realize she just plain needed him.
Slowly, so as not to startle him, she ran the hand he was not holding, up his abs, over his heavily muscled chest, past his collarbone.
Dalton’s jaw clenched. He could snap her neck with a thought.
But he didn’t. Instead his eyes met hers, as though he were hypnotized.
Keeping her eyes locked on his, Sterling touched the collar.
It responded to her touch, beeping twice, then unfastening and falling to the floor.
Some of the tension went out of Dalton’s body. He released her wrist.
Then he loosened his grip on her neck, just enough.
Immediately, Sterling grabbed the arm holding her neck, and punched him with the hand he had just released, though it sung with pain at the contact. The force of the punch pushed her a step away from the wall.
When Dalton pushed against her to resist her forward momentum, she stepped behind herself and then quickly untwisted, using his own force to send him slamming into the wall.
Now their position was reversed.
Sterling expected to see the light flash back in his eyes. She was ready for a fight.
Gamely, she gazed into his eyes again.
But his look was one of betrayal. Suddenly he appeared to be confused and in pain.
What was she thinking?
He looked like he had when she’d lost him.
He looked like her Dalton.
Before she could ruin anything else by thinking, she was on him, her mouth seeking his.
Dalton froze for a moment under her assault, then his lips softened and he kissed her back.
Sterling’s heart soared. She wanted to consider whether it was ethical to do this when he seemed so lost. But she just couldn’t. The only thing that mattered was getting him back, making him accept her again.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth and her senses were suddenly flooded: his rich, spicy taste, the faint scent of his sweat, the hard, hot feel of his muscled body against hers.
Growling, Sterling pressed herself even closer, knowing he could feel her aching breasts against his chest.
Dalton swept her up.
She wrapped her legs possessively around his waist and moaned into his mouth.
He let go of her with one arm, and she heard him knock his toiletries off the metal sink in one rough motion, his tin cup jangling discordantly across the floor.
Then the frigid metal of the sink was beneath her as he sat her down, right on the counter.
He slipped his hands under her shirt and broke their kiss to pull it over her head and throw it to the ground alongside everything else.
Sterling was very glad the surveillance cameras were off. Her eye went to the camera to be sure but the warning light was blessedly dark.
Dalton’s harsh breathing drew her attention back to him.
He was staring at her breasts, his lips open slightly, as if in wonder.
Sterling risked a glance down too. Thank god she was wearing a pretty lace bra today. There wasn’t much call for it around here, but a woman still wanted to dress up for herself once in a while.
As she was congratulating herself for choosing the impractical bra, Dalton exhaled in frustration and ripped it in half, exposing her breasts to the cold air of the room.
Her nipples puckered instantly.
Then he was on them.
He crushed her left breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb roughly over the sensitive nipple, while he licked frantically at her right breast, and then sucked the nipple into his mouth, where he curled his tongue around it, alternating coaxing pulls with savage nips.
Sterling let her head fall backward. The sensations overwhelmed her, like a caged thing trying to break free.
The counter was freezing, numbing cold travelled unrelentingly to her aching core.
But Dalton’s warm arm around her back, holding her still, and his hot mouth on her breast had her burning.
When she couldn’t take anymore, she tried to pull his head away, but he only roared into her chest and kept teasing her.
She unwrapped her legs from his waist and quickly pushed her feet hard against the sink cabinet below her.
Dalton was surprised and took a step back. She slid down against his body and when he lunged for her, she stepped aside, leaving him to drop onto the cot.
Standing over him, like a lion tamer, Sterling allowed the straps of her ruined bra to slide down her shoulders, and the whole thing drop to the ground behind her.
Staring into his eyes, she slowly unbuttoned her regulation trousers and slid them down her hips.
When they had pooled at her feet, she slipped her feet out of her shoes and looked down at him, wearing nothing but thigh highs and the black lace thong that used to match the bra.
No one could be sexier than Edward Dalton. He was a mountain of a man, all muscle, with a power that seemed to vibrate from beneath his skin.
But the way his face was laid bare by desire was the softest most gentle thing. It had never failed to affect Sterling in the past, and today was no exception.
Sterling knelt and tugged the waistbands of his camos and boxers at once. They slid down easily and he lifted his hips to help her get them off.
She stood again and looked down at him. He was panting slightly with excitement. Her eyes moved down to his waiting cock, rigid
and throbbing for her.
He was enormous. Even as she knelt to take him in her mouth, she knew she would experience as much discomfort as pleasure from it. But it felt like a penance and she took it on joyfully.
Grasping the base of him with one hand, she delicately swirled her tongue around the tip.
Dalton’s hands fisted in the sheets.
Sterling smiled as she continued to tease him, mouthing him softly, licking up and down the sides of his straining hardness. She would move away from him any time his hips lifted helplessly off the cot, and then swirl him into her mouth a bit further as soon as he lowered his hips like a good boy.
Soon, he was moaning and growling in spite of himself.
It was always like this between them - a teasing power play, a wonderful dance.
She rewarded him for responding by suddenly allowing him all the way into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.
Dalton let out a strangled cry.
Sterling smiled again, around his incredible girth, and fought her gag reflex by extending her tongue to caress his length with gentle suction.
“You need to stop now, woman,” he whispered.
The words sent shivers down her spine.
But she didn’t like to obey too quickly.
Instead, she slid her other hand down lower to cup him and lightly stroke and weigh the aching globes that so desperately wanted to spill their seed.
Dalton dropped his head back and keened in frustration. His cock was pulsing in her throat now, but he was a good boy and he was holding back.
The whole experience of touching and tasting him was making her own sex swell and throb with need.
Sterling slid him in and out of her mouth once more, and then straddled him.
His penis twitched and strained in the air between her legs.
He sat up partially and ripped the thong in half as easily as he had the bra. They were destined to be together those two pieces, even in the trash.
She leaned down to ease off his shirt, but he tore it off himself.
His hands came down on her hips and he eased her down to him.
Sterling looked into his eyes and lowered herself until she could feel the heat of him pulsing against her opening.
Slowly, she dragged herself against him without allowing him to penetrate.
His fingers tightened on her hips but he didn’t force himself in. Always a gentleman.
She was so slick, so ready for him. The feel of him against her made her moan in spite of herself.
She reached down to bring him inside.
He sighed in relief when he realized what she was doing.
Slowly, she ground herself down on him. It had been a long time and for a moment she was afraid she couldn’t take him.
He angled her hips slightly and then she was able to press down until he was seated.
She always waited a moment right there. Savoring the moment of having him inside her, and allowing her body to adjust to him at the same time.
This was right.
This was home, insomuch as she had ever had a home.
She looked into his eyes, wondering if he felt it too.
His face was soft with pleasure, eyes radiating a cat-like satisfaction.
She smiled, and he smiled back, a pirate smile.
The next thing she knew, he had flipped her over, reversing their positions.
Though she wanted to protest, she couldn’t help laughing.
“I like that sound,” he told her.
She smiled goofily.
“But not as much as I’m going to like the sounds you make next,” he whispered in a dark voice.
With excruciating slowness, he dragged himself out of her. Then he eased his way back in, until he was cradled snugly against that special spot inside her that made her eyes want to roll back in her head.
“Ohhh,” she couldn’t help moaning.
“Was that good, baby?” he asked her, easing out again.
“Yesss,” she assured him, eyes squeezed shut to contain the torturous pleasure.
He rewarded her by slamming into her.
The pleasure was all-consuming, she arched her back, praying he would continue to give her hard thrusts.
But he eased himself out slowly again.
She whimpered.
“Open your eyes,” he told her.
She did and he crushed her with pleasure again.
Biting her lip, she tried not to beg for more.
She could feel him throbbing inside her for the same.
Staring into her eyes, Dalton leaned his weight onto one arm and slid his other hand between them.
Although she knew what was coming, she was still electrified with pleasure when his warm palm moved over her belly and his thumb reached down to make exquisite circles on her most sensitive spot.
When he began to move again, Sterling lost track of her sounds. The only thing that mattered was the mastery of his thumb over her control, and the corresponding feeling of him, of Edward Dalton, inside her and possessing her.
Within seconds she was worked up to a frenzy.
She felt herself burning with blinding pleasure, milking him with every pulse of an orgasm so intense it seemed almost unnatural.
He was already jetting inside her when she began to come down. She opened her eyes to see the beautiful agony on his face as he cried out his own pleasure.
He sighed and collapsed on her chest.
She let her fingers drift on his shoulder blades - not quite massaging, not quite scratching.
“So nice…” she murmured.
Dalton raised himself up on his elbows to study her.
“Who are you, Elizabeth Sterling?” he asked with an intensity that blurred the line between love and anger.
“I’m Silver. And you’re Ice. Just as we were in the beginning,” she said simply, hoping it was enough.
“World without end,” he mused with a strange expression.
“I guess so,” she replied, begging him mentally not to ask any more questions.
He lay down again, next to her, his head on her chest like a child.
She stoked his arm with the same feather touch, until his breathing evened and lengthened into sleep.
She lay awake staring up at the fluorescent lights and reveling in the concrete warmth and weight of the man on her chest. Whether she admitted it or not, she knew she would go to sleep replaying this moment again and again.
A twinge of conscience told her it wasn’t fair not to tell him everything.
But of course, she couldn’t do that.
19
West watched the old grandfather clock in the center hall. When it struck 7AM, Cordelia headed to the front door, and he followed her.
Springtime bloomed everywhere, flowers poured carelessly out of the window boxes and burst from the vines that crawled up the street lamps.
Not one blossom could hold a candle to Cordelia. And she had no idea.
The powder blue tailored jacket she wore over a silk shell brought out the blue in her eyes. And her purposeful stride only accentuated the feminine movements of her curves: hips swaying, breasts straining a little against the silk.
She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and turned to him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Coming with you,” West replied with the teasing smile that used to make her wild with embarrassment. Until she had started pretending he wasn’t flirting.
It didn’t have the desired effect.
“You’re going to the office?” Cord asked in wonder.
“Well, I guess technically, you’re coming with me,” West indicated the car, which had just come into view two blocks away.
“And where are we going?” Cord asked suspiciously.
“To see Mallory. I’m getting my new eye today. I want to make sure you’re the first thing it sees,” he told her.
“Oh,” she said, clearly taken by surprise.
C
ordelia smiled, and the blush he loved stained her cheeks. God, she drove him crazy.
“Plus, you need to give her that sample anyway - you have the powder with you, right?” he added.
Cordelia nodded slowly.
“I thought for sure it would come to me if I just slept on it for a night,” she said. “But I’m still stumped.”
The car pulled up and McSweeney hopped out with a big grin on his face, like a kangaroo running a clown college.
“Where’s Dmitri?” West asked in dismay.
“It’s his day off,” McSweeney exclaimed, smiling fondly at Cordelia.
“Great,” West muttered.
“What’s that, Mr. Worthington?” McSweeney asked.
“Nothing, man. It’s all good,” West heard himself reply. How was this guy not surprised to see him? He figured Dalton must have explained.
“Excellent, sir! What a glorious day it is.”
McSweeney chattered on about the hummingbird Shali saw on the trumpet flowers as he opened and closed the passenger door for them. Who Shali could be, or what a trumpet flower was, West had no idea.
The one thing he did know is that there was no way he would be fooling around with Cordelia on this car ride, something he’d fantasized about last night, and again in the shower this morning, making him feel the desperate agony of needing her even more.
Of course, since the house was so small, he could get no real privacy to relieve his own tension. Not to mention the fact that his right hand was so strong it could probably crush a brick and his left hand was uncoordinated. His frustration level was ratcheting up daily, thanks in no small part to the constant proximity of Cordelia, and he was beginning to wonder how much more he could take.
He forced his mind back to the present.
“… and that is why the little critter would have been in real trouble, had my daughter not driven him to the Wildlife Sanctuary,” McSweeney finished triumphantly.
“Wow,” Cordelia said patiently.
She was trying not to be obvious about it, but she was definitely eyeing West up, he could tell. As if maybe she also wished they could have avoided company on this trip.
Stupid McSweeney. If Dalton trusted him, he must be the man for the job. But West couldn’t imagine him dealing with any kind of threat. Maybe he would bore them to sleep?
