Wylde

by S. C. Mitchell

  He took one taught peak into his mouth, rolling his tongue around.

  “Mmm.” His satisfaction rumbled through her chest and ignited a fire in her core.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  His erection prodded her stomach, and she wrapped her fingers around his length. So hard, so thick, his cock pulsed with excitement. Could he last?

  Most guys, especially their first time, didn’t.

  “Oh.” He released her breast.

  She squeezed his cock, tugging him gently toward the bed. “Let’s take this horizontal.”

  He followed willingly, tumbling onto the bed next to her. His sexy, musky scent filled her, heightening her arousal.

  “Piotr was right, you do taste scrumptious.” His lips once again sought her breast, his tongue flicking across her erect nipple and sending sensual jolts straight through her core.

  She guided his hand to the juncture of her thighs. “Touch me here.”

  Deft fingers glided over her most intimate area as he explored. Releasing her breast, he peppered small, butterfly kisses down her stomach, then lower. “You taste even better down here.”

  His mouth on her sex, took her higher. He found that place, oh that wonderful place, and swirled the tip of his tongue around her clitoris, as he pushed fingers into her channel. Two light flicks, then he pulled the swollen bud into his mouth.

  Oh, god. What was he doing to her?

  Her mind whirled. She gasped. And the walls of her reserve crumbled as a glorious orgasmic release rumbled through her.

  She gripped the bed covering, needing to hold on to something as she rode the cresting wave. Her world fractured.

  When her vision cleared, he was kneeling between her legs, staring at her, his brow furled. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, God.” Gasp. “Never better. You’re sure you’ve never done this before?”

  His worried expression eased. “It just seemed the right thing to do. Did I do it right?”

  She smiled. She couldn’t help it. “You did it amazing.”

  His cock now prodded her channel. “It feels like the next step would be to—”

  “Yes. That.” She tilted her hips up to meet his erection.

  Unprotected sex?

  The warning crossed her thoughts, but she dismissed it. She was on the birth control patch. Even with her kidnapping, she’d stayed on schedule. And both she and John had been checked out numerous times by Heather. She’d seen the charts. They were both healthy. Plus, she doubted John had any concept of what a condom was. Time enough for that education later. They would be safe enough for now.

  And she needed him. God, did she need him.

  He slid his cock into her, so big, so amazing.

  His eyes shown with passion. “Like this?”

  She could only nod, as an orgasmic spike rippled through, stealing her breath.

  He pulled out and pushed in again. His breath hissed. “I feel the need to—”

  “Yes. Faster. Harder.” Please.

  Sweat beaded on his brow, as his pace quickened. He gritted his teeth. His eyes glazed.

  A second orgasm began to build within, and Dove bore down on it, trying to hold it off. This felt so damn good. Like nothing she’d ever felt before. No one else had ever touched her like this, done something like this to her.

  “Oh, God, John, yes.” She cried out as the orgasm shook her to her core, harder, more glorious even than the last one.

  “Arrgh.” John pushed deep one last time.

  His release came hard and long, pulsing inside her. So intense. So amazing.

  She lay boneless as he collapsed on top of her. Warm, wonderful, he kept his weight on his elbows, but buried his face in her neck.

  Warm breath huffed, tingling the skin on her shoulder. “Was that” puff “okay?”

  Nope. Okay didn’t approach what that was. Amazing, Otherworldly. Cosmic.

  “Mmm.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Extremely adequate.”

  She’d learned early on it was usually not a good idea to tell a guy he was good at sex. Yeah, this was John. Certainly not like any other guy in most respects, and the sex had been outstanding, but old habits earned hard, were difficult to break.

  “I’ll do better next time.”

  Was that even possible? The prospect had her girly parts quivering.

  A smile spread across her lips. “Yeah, we’ll just have to keep working on this.”

  Chapter 19

  A ringing phone interrupted Dove’s third round of love lessons with John.

  John’s phone, not hers. She’d kept hers on airplane mode.

  She chuckled. He probably had no idea what airplane mode was.

  Xi Force was being called in for an urgent meeting with local law enforcement in one hour. Something big was going down.

  Still, they had a little time before the meeting. ”I’m going to jump in the shower,” she said, pulling herself from the warmth of the bedding.

  John exited the bedroom, but called back, “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

  That would help calm her swirling head.

  She brought up her phone to find the same message, plus one from Kayla, saying she needed to see her before the meeting, and to get there as soon as she could.

  Crap, she still needed the shower and at least one quick cup of coffee.

  That man. He’d gone from awesome, to even better than that, finally making her confess he’d been the best she’d ever had.

  No gloating, no crowing, he’d just shrugged. “Good.”

  She showered, dressed, and exited the room to find John’s wolf pack lying around the main room of the cabin. An infomercial was playing on a small television set she’d never noticed was even there before.

  Piotr was on the couch with some of the pups, struggling with a TV remote control unit. “Darn buttons are too small. I can’t change the channel. And I need to buy an Exertastic. Can I borrow your credit card?”

  Her mind wandered back to the strange electronic box John had thrown at the machines in the Red Guard complex. She’d analyzed it then, before changing it into an exploding arrow. It had been a television remote with oversized buttons. Had that been for Piotr? The wolf sure seemed to know how a television worked.

  “Let me see that.” She plucked the remote up from the couch.

  Yes. She could fix this. Lots of the buttons weren’t needed. There was plenty of material to work with. She located extraneous plastics throughout the house, discarded food containers and wrappings mostly, drawing their molecules to her. The remote expanded as she reworked the electronics inside, got rid of the buttons Piotr wouldn’t need, and made the remaining buttons larger and clearly labeled.

  “Try this.” She handed it back to him, and he clicked buttons, changing the channel on the television until a program came on showing prairie dogs popping in and out of their holes.

  The pups yipped.

  Piotr looked up at her, beaming. “I think I’m in love.”

  She scratched him behind his ear. “Sorry, you’re too late.”

  Her gaze traveled to John, who stood in the kitchen in just a pair of jeans pouring up two cups of coffee. Pheromones flew from her, across the room to meet and join with his in a sensual dance of attraction. Excitement tingled through her core.

  Piotr snorted. “Yeah, about that. You guys are gonna have to learn to not make so much noise.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Dove soared down the mountain side, John loping beneath her on all fours through the powdery snow. His new uniform boarded on the awesome. Kayla’s design really captured the essence of the wolf, in deep browns and grays, without looking all costumie. His sleek figure so sexy, so distractible, she alm
ost collided with a flock of geese. She corrected her course, then checked back.

  John scampered toward the edge of a cliff face. Certainly, he wasn’t going to . . .

  He leapt off the side.

  She swooped down to catch him. What had gotten into him? Yes, the damage would heal itself, but he’d be a bloody mess at the bottom of the cliff.

  But he didn’t fall. Sails popped out from the sides of his uniform and suddenly he was gliding beside her.

  “So now you can fly too? When were you going to tell me about this?”

  His smile was genuine. “We have been a bit busy with other things recently.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Kayla’s lab was almost as big as Heather’s. Scientific instruments and apparatus blended with sewing and weaving machines. Part lab, part design studio, and all pretty awesome. Dove needed to remember to ask if she’d qualify for a space like this to continue her animal studies. Then again, maybe she should move in with John and see if they could add a lab onto the back of his cabin. That’s where most of the animals were that she needed to study anyway.

  She stood in front of a full-length, three-way mirror, checking out her new Xi Force costume.

  “Oh, that looks so good.” Heather circled with a critical eye.

  Dove sucked in a deep breath, in awe of how good the costume made her look and feel. “It’s very comfortable.”

  Her costume sported deep purple and black coloration, with a stylized atom symbol on the chest. Soft and supple, the unitard moved with her and didn’t bind anywhere. She hardly noticed the facemask and cowl. Kayla had built in a feature that allowed her ponytail to stick out the back of the headpiece. Such a gifted fashion designer, she’d though of everything. Even the utility belt for communication electronics offered a little extra customizable storage.

  Dove couldn’t tear her eyes from her reflection. Was that really her? “Kayla, you did an amazing job.”

  Kayla’s broad smile reflected her pride in the design. “It’s made of a Microvar fabric, a next generation Kevlar-like material, capable of stopping most bullets and shrapnel and distributing impact across a wider area. I opted for that over Mutalon, because in your case we don’t want anything getting through. I’m going to make myself a costume out of that as soon as Heather and I figure out the physics of getting the material to phase with me.”

  Fabric this soft and supple that was also bulletproof? Amazing. Style, comfort, and safety. She couldn’t wait for her first mission, just to show it off.

  Heather looked her up and down, nodding. “The press is going to love you, girl. We’re calling you Quantum. Are you good with that?”

  Quantum. God, she was a superhero. It would take a while for that to sink in. “I like it.”

  Kayla pulled open the lab door. “Well, we needed to get this done fast, the men are waiting in the ready room below. The county sheriff just arrived. This is your first official meeting with the public, even if it is just with one person.”

  Heather huffed. “Maybe now we’ll find out what’s had Aaron’s undies in a bunch these past few weeks.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The report from Russia had Wylde’s teeth on edge. Twelve bodies had been pulled from the wreckage of the Red Guard compound. All had been identified, including poor, old Lance. Most of the others were known Red Guard operatives.

  His father wasn’t among them. He’d escaped.

  It appeared that Leonov had also gotten away.

  No doubt they’d pop up at the worst possible time.

  Joel placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get them. I promise.”

  What they’d done to Dove. What they’d almost done to her. He’d almost lost her.

  But he hadn’t. Fate, the author, whatever had intervened and given Dove incredible powers. Perhaps, it had been all worthwhile.

  That still didn’t mean Wylde wasn’t planning to extract a little vengeance if he ever laid eyes on either of them again.

  ~ ~ ~

  Across the conference table from Dove, Megopolis County Sheriff Lance Roberts scowled. “I don’t know what changed, but it started about a month ago. I’ve known Commissioner Warren for years. He was a good cop, and a good man.”

  Sheriff Roberts had been a fixture in local politics and policing for years. Dove remembered him as Officer Friendly from grade school, helping to set up the facility’s D.A.R.E. program. From beat cop to detective to his first run for county sheriff over twenty years earlier, he’d always represented everything a police officer should be. Strength, honesty, integrity. What was not to like about this guy?

  Dove voted for him in every election since she turned eighteen and he usually won in a landslide.

  Dark gray now tinged his once coal-black hair, but his deep azure eyes remained bright and inquisitive. A good man to know, unless you walked on the other side of the law.

  Aaron Braddock was pacing the room, as usual. “That’s about how long he’s been giving me problems as well. Is there anything we can do about the situation?”

  A week ago, Xi Force had been banned from any operations within the Megopolis city limits. Now it looked like county and state officials had been kept marginalized there as well.

  “He’s stepped over some lines, for sure. They used to ask for help from the county during big events and celebrations. Last night’s Winter Festival turned into a drunken brawl, without a single call. He just sent in his goon squad to beat people up. I only found out about it on the morning news.”

  Word had it that Commissioner Warren had been forcing out officers on the city police force, replacing them with recruits that were little more than street thugs. Crime was up all over the city, and no one seemed to be doing anything about it.

  When the mayor and city council complained, some of the more vocal council members were beaten by the thugs. All were now in hiding, and Commissioner Warren was firmly in charge of the city.

  “His wife took the kids and left him a couple of weeks ago,” the sheriff continued. “Look, I know Allen. Hell, I was best man at his wedding. He loved the hell out of Beth and those kids. This just isn’t him.”

  “She’s filed for divorce.” Z-Bot had the glazed look that came over him whenever he was on his internal computer. Obviously he’d been checking court records.

  El Brujo cleared his throat. “Could it be coercion? Blackmail?”

  The Xi Forcer’s resident sorcerer was sporting a new look as well. Navy blue slacks and loose-fitting collared shirt, and a burgundy cape and boots. He must have decided to forego a mask. At least he wasn’t wearing one. Overall, the look was sharp. Score another point for Kayla’s design.

  The sheriff took a moment to consider before answering. “I just don’t see it. Allen would just come clean if someone had something on him. He’s an honest man. A good man. At least he used to be.”

  Joel Weisberg pounded his fist on the table. “We’ve got to do something.”

  “I’ve sent everything to the state attorney general, and he’s looking into it.” The sheriff air-quoted looking into it then closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Aaron huffed. “The higher up in the governmental structure you go, the slower the wheels of justice turn. I’ve been getting push-back on the federal level as well. There’s something rotten in the system.”

  Standing, Sheriff Roberts surveyed the table. “Anyway, I just wanted to reassure you that the county has your back and wants to continue to work cooperatively with Xi Force. I—”

  He was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He held up a finger as he answered. “Yes. How? Where? Hold on.”

  He lowered his phone. “We’ve got a dead city police officer and a crashed transport vehicle right on the city limits line. It could be considered our jurisdiction.” His jaw tightened. “Also, Port i
s on the loose again.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The Xi-1 landed in a snow-covered farm field east of Megopolis. Wylde viewed the crime scene through the window of the jet as he waited for the others to disembark. He was in no hurry. He didn’t know this police commissioner, and had only just met the sheriff. Plus, he didn’t give a damn about Megopolis. The city was too big, too crowded, too . . . everything. Why would people want to live there?

  He’d come to support his team, his friends. And he would do that to the best of his abilities. Still, he wished himself someplace else.

  Dove remained behind, judged still not ready to accompany the team on missions. That was probably the real reason behind his foul mood. And with her was most assuredly the someplace else he wanted to be. Dove had opened up a new world of fantasy, and her willingness to explore and be explored, had Wylde’s heart beating faster.

  He had a good reason to be with her now, and no reason to be here other than duty. I should have just said no.

  Then his gaze settled on the solitary figure standing by the wrecked vehicle.

  Detective Harry Dickson.

  He’d liked the young detective from the start, smelled integrity and honesty in the man’s essence.

  Wylde rose and exited the jet. Suddenly, this mattered.

  The scents hit him as soon as his feet made solid ground. He smelled the death, purification, and decay before he even saw the body lying on the other side of the overturned vehicle.

  “Sheriff, Mr. Wylde.” Detective Dickson motioned them around the vehicle toward a body on the ground.

  A man, dressed in the blue city police uniform, lay face up. Thirtyish, reddish-blond hair, with two bullet holes in his chest.

  Wylde instantly noted the discrepancies. Not near enough blood. He bent down to sniff the ground. Nothing had seeped into the dirt beneath the body.