Out of the Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  What? Why had she thrown in the girlfriend part?

  He took her hand and pulled her toward the back door. He knocked, and a man inside waved in recognition and let him in.

  “Thanks, dude. Anyone been looking for me? I’ve been out of town.”

  “No, man, not that I’ve heard.” He gave Zoe an odd look. She hadn’t removed her helmet yet.

  With a death grip on her hand, Rand dragged her up a set of stairs. He studied the door, lifting a hair he’d strategically left behind to indicate if someone had gone in. Then he felt along the top of the frame and snagged a key, which he slid into the lock.

  She tried to free her hand. “I’ll wait here…or not,” she added, when he tugged her into a small apartment with minimal furniture. It looked more like a hotel room, beige and browns, no colors or personal touches.

  He tapped on her helmet. “Take it off.”

  She did as he ordered, getting more annoyed with every passing second. “Look, I’m not going to freak out or anything. I just want to go back to the tomb.”

  A glass on the coffee table fell over, spilling water onto the carpet.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Can we just go now?”

  “I’m sorry your mother did that to you back there. I’m sorry you’re embarrassed that I saw it.” He shifted uncomfortably but still met her gaze.

  Her eyes widened. “You’re apologizing?”

  “Something like that.”

  Then it hit her. “You’re…trying to console me?”

  “Closer.” He looked down for a second, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m not good at this stuff. But I know you were upset”—he looked at the glass—“are upset. And that thing you did for me the other day, with Sly…well, it was good. So go on, vent, scream, cry, whatever. Get it out.”

  She was so stunned, her anger and humiliation fled…replaced by something a lot more dangerous. “I’m fine. We should go.”

  She started to walk to the door, really she did. But she stopped, turned back to Rand and saw what she feared most—tenderness in his sea-green eyes. Dammit. Her lower lip began to tremble. So did the lamp on the end table. When was the last time someone had showed her real tenderness? Rand had in small ways, like painting her wall, but he hadn’t even let her thank him, saying it was nothing.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She wiped the tears forming in her eyes. “I never had a warm, loving mother. I shouldn’t have expected…definitely shouldn’t have said…”

  In one swift move, he stepped closer, cradled her face in his hands, and covered her mouth with his. Soft kisses shivered through her body, so sweet they nearly made her teeth ache. He kept kissing, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and trailing his tongue over it.

  Her chest hurt, and she realized she wasn’t breathing. Slowly, breathe, Zoe. She heard something fall behind her and reined in her emotions.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured between kisses. “Remember, all this stuff belongs to a guy who skipped town. Let it fly, doll.”

  Doll. And the words before that all melted her. She shook her head, fighting it. Oh, God, she wanted to let go. She’d been holding back too long.

  He pulled her body against his, and felt his erection pressing into her stomach. His hands toyed with her ears, sending chills washing over her and a soft moan out of her mouth.

  Control yourself.

  Let go…

  Her sensible self and her wanton self argued in her head, the words lost in the daze he was creating. His fingers moved over her scalp, touching spots that ignited her body. She tilted her head back, then snapped it forward again.

  His tongue now played inside her mouth, scraping along her teeth and tracing designs on the surface of her tongue. If he was that creative in her mouth…

  Don’t go there.

  It had been so long since she’d had sex, and she’d never had fulfilling sex, that she felt the hunger ignite between her legs and rise into her chest.

  She thought the lamp jumped off the end table behind her but couldn’t pull away to look.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said again, moving down her chin and her throat, nibbling and licking at her skin.

  Her voice was breathless as she said, “Are you…still consoling…me?”

  He unbuttoned her blouse. “Does it feel like I’m consoling you?”

  “Yes…no. I don’t know.”

  “How ’bout I seduce you instead?”

  He dipped his tongue between her breasts.

  That did it. She put her hands on his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him fully.

  His hands, now holding her behind, tightened. She felt him carrying her into another room. She opened her eyes as they entered a bedroom lit by a shaft of late-afternoon sunlight coming through the broken blinds. He knelt and dropped her the last few inches onto the softest bed she’d ever felt. The light glinted off his silver eyebrow spike. His mouth covered hers, his breath coming faster, kissing her as he unbuttoned her blouse and helped her wriggle out of it.

  He undid her bra with one hand and tossed it away. He sat back and watched his hands slide over her breasts, his eyes dilated with desire. She reached up and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Before she even threw it onto the floor, she was kissing the contours of his chest, tracing her tongue around his nipples and nibbling them when they hardened. She kissed around to the soft, pale skin on his sides, then up to the hollow beneath his armpit. His silky hairs tickled her nose.

  She kissed along his rib cage and around to the front again, across the ridges of his stomach to the golden hairs just above his waistband. She unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zipper, and helped him out of them. Bright white briefs adorned the body she’d been dreaming of ever since she’d glimpsed him in the bathroom. His shaft was huge and rigid beneath the soft material, and she ran her hand over the length of it. He tilted his head back and let out a soft groan that spiraled right to the center of her stomach.

  She loved the way a man sounded when he felt pleasure. Something else fell down behind her. She paused. “St. Barts. Fiji. Marquesas Islands.”

  He pressed his hand over hers. “Let go, Zoe.”

  “It’s hard…”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

  They laughed, but it died down as their eyes met.

  He took her hand and pulled it to his mouth. “Let go. I don’t care if shit’s flying around. It means you’re hot and bothered, and that’s how I want you.” To illustrate, he flicked his tongue between her fingers.

  She rolled her eyes, imaging, as he’d intended, that tongue being somewhere much more intimate.

  Her chest expanded at the prospect of letting go. For once in her life, just totally letting go. Even more exciting, her heart filled with the precious gift he was giving her.

  He kept tracing his tongue over her palm in circles, watching her with an intensity that released that last bit of resistance. She smelled smoke and saw it curling out of the clock on the nightstand. Crazy, wonderful, crazy energy.

  She knelt and touched her tongue to the tip of him that was peeking out of the waistband of his briefs. She peeled back the band and explored farther. She took him in her mouth, at least most of him, and stroked him with her tongue, and, very gently, the edge of her teeth. The sound he made was a combination groan and her name.

  His body contorted in pleasure, his hand mindlessly kneading her hair, and she smiled when his toes curled. When he seemed about to explode, he flipped her onto her back and returned the favor. He pressed her bent legs apart, kissing the soft skin of her inner thighs the way she had cherished the skin on his side. He took his ever-loving time making his way toward the part of her that throbbed with wanting. He touched her with his tongue, then gave attention to the fleshy part of her while just barely touching her clitoris. By then her toes were curling. He had her so worked up that only a mere teasing touch sent her over the edge. Her body shuddered, and her bra flew past.

&n
bsp; Rand wasn’t finished. He flicked his tongue over her, and the pleasure was almost painful, until she felt the pressure build and spin her off again. The blinds shuddered, sending sunlight shimmering across the bed.

  He chuckled, a soft, sexy sound that proved he indeed liked that she was sending things flying. That alone sent her roaring into a third orgasm. Oh, she did love…loved the way he made her feel. He kissed his way up her stomach, circling her breasts, then kissed her again.

  She’d never kissed a guy after oral sex, and that Rand had no problem with that intrigued her. How erotic, the taste of their mingled sexuality. He reached over to the nightstand drawer, and she heard the crinkling of a condom wrapper. “Hope you don’t mind orange flavored. That’s what the guy who lived here preferred, I guess.”

  The condom went flying out of his hand. She gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

  She wasn’t sorry, though, when he leaned over to retrieve it, giving her a luscious view of his tight ass. He sat back with the condom again, tearing it open. She took it and rolled it down over the length of him. He gently pressed her back to the bed, and with her legs bent, leaned close and teased the tip against her, sliding across her folds and sending another spasm through her.

  The empty wrapper went this time, zinging over the bed.

  He slid in slowly, giving her body time to expand, touching her with both his thoughtfulness and restraint. When he filled her, she sucked in a breath. Nobody else had ever filled her, not just physically but emotionally. She wrapped her legs around him. He locked his gaze onto hers as they moved together. Though his face was red and muscles tight, he kept going longer than anyone else ever had. She felt a different kind of pressure building inside her with every thrust, then she experienced her first internal orgasm.

  From the smile on his face, he must have seen her surprise. Waves of pleasure washed over her from the inside. She rode him harder, tightening her muscles around him, and felt him throb inside her when he came. And still he moved, still hard, bringing her to another heart-rocking orgasm before collapsing on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight.

  “You’re still hard,” she said in disbelief a few minutes later.

  He shrugged, and his voice was muffled because his face was nestled in the crook of her neck. “Yep. Want to do it again?”

  She shook her head, unable to hardly manage even that movement. “I’m mad tired.” Tired and sated and…she was afraid to name the glow that lit her from the inside.

  He rolled her over so that she lay on top of him, their bodies still connected. That he obviously wasn’t ready to pull apart intensified that glow.

  He rubbed her “wedding ring” tattoo. “Feel better?”

  Another kind of wave washed over her, this one cold and yanking her from the daze he’d left her in. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His expression became wary. “If I said something that can be taken two ways, and one pisses you off, I meant the other way.”

  She shifted to the side, feeling him slide out. “No, seriously.”

  He sat up. “I only asked if you were feeling better.”

  “Was this”—she waved to include the bed—“consoling me? Like…oh, my God, like a pity fu—”

  He pressed his hand over her mouth. “Don’t even say that. Of course it wasn’t.”

  She got out of bed. “Oh, what an idiot I am. Of course it was. You brought me here to screw me so I’d feel better.” She searched for her clothes, even more humiliation crashing down on her.

  He grabbed her from behind, pulling her against him. “Zoe, stop. It wasn’t like that.”

  She pushed away and faced him. “Then what was it?”

  The challenge took him aback. He paused. “Great sex. Something that’s been brewing between us since the beginning.”

  She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say, but when her heart fell, she knew that wasn’t it. Great sex. She grabbed up her panties and stalked to the door. Somehow, being angry felt safer than what she’d been feeling when they were making love—no, having great sex. The digital clock launched, jerking when it reached the end of the cord and dropping to the floor.

  She paused by the door. “Did you have pity sex with your neighbor, too?”

  “That’s just ugly.”

  It was ugly, but that’s how she felt inside. “Is that a yes?”

  He shook his head. “No, I never had sex with her. I don’t go around screwing every pretty woman I can.”

  “Then who do you screw?”

  “Women I…like.”

  “Ooh, you like me. Yippee.” She went into the small bathroom and slammed the door.

  “Zoe,” he said from the other side of the door. “What do you want me to say?”

  After dressing she snatched open the door. “Nothing. You made me feel better.” She patted his shoulder, making the move as condescending as possible. “Happy now?” Then she walked to the door.

  When she pulled it open, a man stood there, and he certainly didn’t look happy. But he was holding a gun.

  CHAPTER 23

  A

  my snuggled in Lucas’s arms while they lounged in bed. They had been making up for lost time, staying up half the night, dropping off to sleep for a while, then making love again. She would have been in heaven were it not for the people hunting them down, and Lucas’s episodes. And Orn’ry, walking sideways from one end of the perch to the other, making whirring noises and trying to get her attention.

  “You drifted off again.” She gingerly touched the healing cut at his temple.

  “In the middle of…?”

  She nodded. “Lucas, I’m scared. The storm of images, and now these spacey spells…it’s the Booster, isn’t it?”

  He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, his gaze on nothing in particular. “I think so. There might be a time when I lose it.”

  She sat up. “I know about your pact with Eric. I overheard you telling him to take you out if you go crazy. But that’s not going to happen. We’re going to find Wallace first. Do you understand?”

  He sat up, too, his eyes haunted. “I’m sorry you heard that. But I’m not taking any chances. I bet the last thing Zoe’s dad ever thought he’d do was kill innocent people. And Wallace, well, we don’t know if he’s alive or if he’ll help us. He worked side by side with Darkwell.”

  “He’s been hiding, afraid that Darkwell would kill him, I bet. Lucas, it’s our only chance. Eric’s becoming more volatile. Sometimes I’m afraid of what he’ll do, and that’s probably from the Booster, too. I’m glad you told him to stay out of the relay tomorrow.” She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “We’ll try to find Wallace. First, though, we’ve got this other Offspring to deal with. One thing at a time.” He stroked her face with his fingers, and she was overwhelmed by the love she saw in his eyes. “Amy, we know we’re not related. Have you thought about what that means? Not for us, but for you.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t gotten beyond the relief yet.”

  “Cyrus said there were two men and two women. We know that Eric is an Ultra, so his father had to be one of those men. Since Kee probably wasn’t his father, that leaves…”

  “Dad.” Her eyes widened. “Eric could be my half brother.” The weight of that hit her like a wrecking ball. “My father was blond, like Eric. He had blue eyes like Eric.” Her hand went to her mouth.

  “Now might be a good time to talk to him, while Rand and Zoe are out. No need to involve them in our personal matters right now.”

  They dressed in silence, Amy deep in her thoughts. She dug into her purse and pulled out a picture, then lifted her arm to Orn’ry, who climbed aboard. When they emerged, the scent of coffee still wafted in the air. She parked Orn’ry on the perch in the living area, ignoring Eric’s snarl. She nodded to Petra, who was watching one of those obnoxious celebrity reality shows. Accusations flew, fingers pointed.

  “
It’s nice to watch other people’s problems,” Petra said, as though defending the fact that she had been watching.

  Eric sank farther into the couch. “People who haven’t lost their powers and regained them when they should have.”

  Petra gave them a chagrined look. “You two were sure noisy last night.”

  “Sorry,” Amy said, even though she wasn’t.

  Orn’ry screeched. “What the fluck!” Then he started crowing like a rooster.

  Eric twisted around, his hands in position to strangle something. Orn’ry tucked his head down close to his body, and quietly said, “Kill the bird, kill the bird.”

  Amy crossed her arms in front of her. “Maybe if you were nicer to him—”

  Eric mirrored her action. “Maybe if it was dead…”

  Petra held out her hand, her gaze on the television. “Shh! She’s about to pick the guy who gets to wax her pube hairs.”

  Amy walked into the living room and clicked off the television.

  “Hey!” Eric said. “Didn’t you hear what Petra said?”

  Amy sat on the coffee table facing Eric, and Lucas perched behind her. She took a deep breath. “We have something to tell you. The last time I spoke with Cyrus—when it was Cyrus—he told me that my father had gotten another woman in the program pregnant. For a while Lucas and I worried that we were related.”

  Petra put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, how terrible! Wait. That’s why you were acting so strange.”

  Amy nodded. “But our visit to the SPP and what Cheveyo told Petra ruled that out. Kee is definitely Lucas’s father.” She turned to Eric. “Which means that you and I are very possibly half siblings.” She forced a smile, teeth bared.

  His face went white, then flushed red. Was he remembering how he’d looked at her before they rescued Lucas? How he’d kissed her once?

  “You…and me…related?”

  She nodded. “As far as we know, there were only two men who got the Booster. There was a second stage of BLUE EYES, but because of the sexual side effects, Darkwell kept them separate from the first stage. And you do have some of my father’s features.” She handed him the old photograph of her and her father. “You and I look nothing alike, but I took after my mother.”