by Lexi Ryan
She was wet and swollen and felt like heaven. He played with her clit, and she moaned, arching her back further, grinding her ass against his cock.
He slid two fingers inside her and she pulsed around him—hot and responsive. Ready for his touch. Ready to come.
When he withdrew his fingers, she whimpered quietly, grinding into him harder. His cock throbbed, and he considered unzipping his jeans and fucking her against the railing. She’d take him, arch into the penetration and moan with the pleasure of his dick inside her.
Tempting. God, was it tempting. But he wanted to look at her first. Wanted to open her legs and see her, slick and swollen. Wanted to lick her, taste her. Suck her.
He drew her away from the railing and led her to the balcony chair.
Her breathing was jagged, but she sat, watching him carefully. As he kneeled before her, she took in a long breath and wet her bottom lip with her tongue.
He sliding his hands under her ass. “I want to see you.” He pulled her to the edge and spread her legs.
He looked at her for a long time, trailing a finger over her clit, circling her sex, enjoying the beauty of her as much as the desperate sounds slipping from her lips. He lifted a leg onto each of his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he parted her labia with his fingers, lowered his head and tasted her. He licked her clit until she writhed under his mouth, then slid his fingers inside her. Only moments later, she tensed around him and came. She squeezed and pulsed around his fingers, and he ached to replace them with his cock.
The taste of her on his lips, he let her pull him up for a kiss. She opened her mouth under his, and he slid his tongue inside. She kissed him back, digging her hands into his hair, exploring his mouth with her tongue—so wet, so sweet.
He needed her closer.
He pulled her body against his, turning so he was sitting in the chair and she was straddling him.
“You have too many clothes on,” she complained. She pulled at the buttons on his shirt, her hands working deftly between their bodies. She yanked the shirt from his jeans and pressed her hands against his bare chest.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He took her breasts in his hands, rubbing those beautiful pink nipples with the pads of his thumbs, as she lowered her mouth to his again.
She traced a finger over his pectorals then scraped her nails across his hard stomach. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Lowered her head, she flicked her tongue across each of his nipples. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered. “Don’t move a muscle.” She wriggled her body off his and trounced back into the room, all the best parts of her jiggling in her hurry.
He didn’t dare move. When she returned, condom in hand, he was rewarded with a full smile.
“I like a man who can take an order.”
He almost told her he would take any order she gave, but the words hadn’t made it past his tongue when she dropped to her knees before him. She tugged off his jeans and boxers and purred at the sight of his dick.
“Jesus,” she muttered, wrapping her hand around his long, hard length.
His breath left him as she squeezed, pumped, admired.
“I may have done this sooner if I’d known all you have to offer.” A smile curved her lips before she lowered them to him.
She was a wonder of skilled motion—her hand squeezing the base of his shaft while another cupped his balls, her tongue moving up and down before she’d add exquisite suction to the mix.
He watched her. That beautiful mouth wrapped so perfectly around him, her hair falling in waves around her face while she gave him the best head he’d had in his life. He wanted more. He wanted her.
His cock grew harder, swelling, and he knew he’d come if he didn’t stop her now. “Paige,” he whispered, slipping his hand into her hair.
She didn’t stop, only locked eyes with him as she continued to suck, that glorious wet mouth moving up and down his shaft.
“Paige,” he warned. “If you keep—”
She sucked harder and applied light pressure to his balls.
Darian forgot all his best intentions and let the orgasm tear through him, coming hard in her mouth while she sucked, lapped, and played.
She took her time, and when she pulled away, she was panting, cheeks flushed.
Hell. There was nothing as sexy as a woman who was turned on by giving head. She couldn’t be more of a wet dream if she tried.
She glanced at the condom that lay unused at his feet. “I’m clean,” he said. “We have to get tested regularly by the SIA. No worries there.”
She blushed, looking chagrinned. “I hadn’t really brought it out for that,” she whispered. Then as if remembering herself, she looked him in the eye and said, “You have one fabulous cock, Darian, and I’m not done with you yet.”
She took his hand and led him back into the room. The night had just begun.
Chapter Eight
Washington D.C., 2 a.m., January 21st
The gunmetal gray door loomed between Paige and the pediatric ward of Saint Mary’s hospital. She took a breath. She’d go in. She always did. The pain was so strong on the other side of those doors that she wouldn’t even have to touch the patients to sense it. Once she pushed to the other side, it would blitz her, coming at her in every direction—pain with fear snapping at its heels.
Go.
She plowed through in a rush, and nearly doubled over when it hit her. She exhaled slowly but pushed herself forward. At night, when so many patients were sleeping, it was tolerable, but it was still intense. Enough that she had to fight the instinctive reaction to vomit in response to the pain.
The unit was quiet. Nurses tapped reports into their computers, machines droned out a white noise buzz, accompanied by occasional beeps.
Paige’s favorite nurse was on staff tonight, typing at the keyboard in the nurses’ station. When she looked up and saw Paige, her round face lit up, and she grinned. “Paige! I didn’t know you were visiting tonight.” She kept her voice low.
Paige said a silent prayer for the kindness of the nurses who never complained about Paige’s late night visits. She exhaled slowly again, trying to remove herself from the pain, so her smile wouldn’t look forced. “I didn’t make it in earlier today like I’d hoped.”
The nurse nodded. “Well, I’m always glad to see you. You want to visit?” She grabbed her charts and led the way without waiting for Paige’s response. “I was just in there a few minutes ago, and she was still up reading.” She shook her head. “You know how hard it is for her to sleep anyway, but I think she’s feeling better tonight, so she wants to read while she can.”
Paige nodded, swallowing.
The private hospital room was filled with flowers and balloons. Paige always made sure new ones were delivered each week. The walls had posters of the guy who played Edward Cullen in Twilight.
“Tara,” the nurse said, “your sister is here.”
Tara looked up from her book—another vampire tale, no doubt—and her eyes widened. “Paige!”
“Aren’t you lucky? Two visitors in one evening,” the nurse said. “I’ll leave you two alone to visit.”
Tara did look like she was feeling better. She had some color in her face, and her eyes were a little brighter than usual. As always, she had a bandanna over her head, covering up the baldness Tara took harder than any leukemia diagnosis. At nineteen, wasn’t she entitled to a little vanity? Even if her life was so far from that of the average teenager?
As she often did, Paige wondered whether Tara would come into an ability, if she’d live long enough to have a chance. It would be so different for Tara. Tara knew about the world of Specials. She’d have a context in which to put an ability. She wouldn’t feel like a freak. She wouldn’t be alone.
Paige wasn’t anxious to find out, though. Every Special she’d ever met had come into her power when she lost her virginity, and—cancer or no—Paige wasn’t ready f
or her baby sister to go there. Tara may have legally been an adult, but after spending most of the last four years in a hospital, she wasn’t as mature as other nineteen-year-olds.
It was hard to believe it looking at Tara now, but Paige had been even younger when she’d come into her power. Sixteen, at once full of herself and naïve, and too goddamned trusting of a college boy. She’d met him at a fraternity party. Her mama would have beat her ass if she’d known Paige had sneaked out to go to that party, but Paige didn’t care. She’d met Jamie, and he’d made her feel like a princess.
When they slept together the first time, Paige expected fireworks, an outpouring of love. She was sixteen. She didn’t know any better. And the experience had been mediocre. She didn’t know that was the case for most girls’ first times. And after, when she felt how bored he was with her, she thought they were connected because they’d had sex.
And when she’d dropped to her knees and took him deep into her mouth—because she didn’t want the guy she loved so desperately to be feeling like he’d rather be playing video games than hanging with her—the pleasure that had whipped through her while she sucked him off hadn’t surprised her. Because they were soul mates. She was sixteen living in a world of non-Special civilians. Why would she interpret it any other way? Why would she suspect that she had special powers that allowed her to tap into what someone else was feeling—physically, emotionally?
Eventually, her boyfriend had been too creeped out by how much she was “in his head.” Then her mama’s precarious hold on her sanity had slipped and the three of them—Paige, Tara, and Sarah—had lost everything. Paige had learned to keep quiet about the things she knew and shouldn’t.
“Who else came to visit you tonight?” Paige asked.
Tara blushed and looked down at her book, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.
“Tara?” Paige smiled. Did her sister have a special friend she hadn’t told Paige about?
Tara chewed her lip for a minute, then looked sideways at Paige. “Collin.”
Paige tried to conceal her surprise. “Oh, well. That’s nice.”
“He said that just because you guys broke up doesn’t mean that he and I can’t be friends anymore.”
“Right, no.” Paige nodded. Hell, the girl looked at four ugly beige walls most days. Paige wasn’t going to take away the few friends she had. “Of course.” And that explained the look on Tara’s face. Tara had always crushed hard on Collin.
“He brought me a copy of Twilight to watch on my laptop,” she said, her face glowing with excitement.
Paige nodded and stepped forward, extending a hand. “How are you feeling today?”
Tara pulled away. “Can you not tonight? Please?”
Paige opened her mouth. Closed it. “Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Tara shrugged. “It’s just a little...invasive. Why don’t you just ask me how I feel?”
“I did.”
“But you weren’t going to listen. You were going to go in and find out for yourself.”
Paige sighed. “Okay. How are you feeling tonight?”
“I’m doing better, thank you for asking. Collin sees a Healer friend of his before he comes to visit. Always makes me feel better.”
Paige closed her eyes. That both softened and frustrated her. Collin was helping her baby sister, and she loved him for that—even if it only helped for three minutes. On the other hand, Collin was still being self-centered. He didn’t bring the Healer. No, because then he wouldn’t be the hero. Instead, he used his vampiric ability on another Special, draining him and bringing a lesser power to Tara.
They had yet to find a Healer Special with strong enough powers to cure Tara, which Paige thought was a testament to how nasty and powerful cancer was.
“I’m sorry I’ve been away so long,” Paige said. “Work’s been crazy.”
“Collin said the SIA tried to recruit you and you turned them down. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Paige shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”
“That used to be what you wanted.”
“I wanted to make a difference,” she said, “and I’ve found a way to do that without the SIA.”
Tara nodded. “You can’t trust the government anyway. I’m glad you made the right decision.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Collin can visit all he likes, but I wish he wouldn’t feed you his skewed worldview.”
“You only think it’s skewed because you—”
Paige shook her head, cutting her sister off. “Tell me about the book you’re reading.”
Tara shrugged— “It’s just a book.” Then she changed the subject. “What do you think happened to Mom?”
Paige stopped studying the book on her sister’s lap and frowned. This wasn’t a conversation she and her sister ever had. “I think she had too many years of people telling her she was crazy, and so she finally just snapped.”
“Cra-zy Sar-ah! Cra-zy Sar-ah!”
Paige shut her eyes against the memory. Tara didn’t have many memories of their life in the short bridge of time when their mother had lost her grip on the world but they hadn’t yet lost everything. Maybe it was better that way. The cruelty of their neighbors had been harder to bear than the coldest winter night on the streets.
“No,” Tara said. “I mean, when she disappeared. What do you think happened to her?”
“I don’t know,” Paige whispered. Tara had been nine years old the night their mother had disappeared and they’d tried to take Paige. Paige shuddered to think what would have happened to Tara if it hadn’t been for Collin.
“Do you think her disappearance has anything to do with the Specials who have been disappearing lately?”
Paige opened her mouth. Closed it. Part of her—somewhere between her gut and her heart—thought the answer to their mother’s disappearance lay in solving this case. Intellectually, she knew the connection was unlikely. “I don’t know.”
Tara put her hand over hers. “Be careful, Paige.”
Paige cocked her head. “Aren’t I always?”
“Have you ever heard of the Specials who drink human blood to build their powers?” Her face was long, pale, and serious.
“I think those are just urban legends, Tara,” Paige said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Collin said they’re real,” Tara whispered. “They’re real and they don’t just go after non-Specials anymore.”
Paige gritted her teeth in aggravation. Collin needed to quit feeding her sister this crap.
“Paige, they go after Specials, too. And, if they’re drinking a Special’s blood when she dies, they get that Special’s powers. But they have to be careful because every once in a while there’s a Special whose blood poisons them.”
Paige sighed. “If you’re going to hang out with Collin, you need to learn to take his stories with a pound or two of salt.”
Tara yanked up her blankets and studied her lap. “You don’t know everything, you know.”
* * * *
Chrissie let herself into Rider’s house and went straight for the master suite. Where had he been disappearing lately? She pushed away the nagging question and stripped out of her clothes. Her boyfriend had been increasingly distant since his twin brother had left Paige.
Chrissie clenched her jaw. Boyfriend. She sneered at the word. She was too old to have a boyfriend, but what better word was there for a man who was both her lover and friend but hadn’t been able to commit to more than “love you for now” after five years?
She unclasped her bra and peeled off her panties. Would he make it home before she fell asleep?
The thought had no sooner entered her mind than she heard the door at the front of the house and the steady clip of Rider’s long stride.
He came straight to the bedroom and came to a halt when he spotted her. “I thought you were going out with the girls tonight.”
“I did.” She looked meaningfully at the clock. “Closed the
place down.” She studied him. If she were a different kind of girl she might ask where he’d been. If she were a different kind of girl, she might ask if there was someone else. She might ask what he was hiding from her.
But she wasn’t that kind of girl.
She reached for his hand and he snatched it from her grasp before she could touch it, tucking it into his pocket.
“Jesus. What’s that about?” She’d wanted to touch him, not that she’d see anything. Rider’s power only let her in when he allowed it. She wanted that connection her gift gave her, wanted to feel close to him through the images of his past—their past. But her gift didn’t work with Rider the way it did with everyone else. Rider’s and Collin’s minds were impenetrable to Specials’ powers.
Chrissie scowled. “What’s been the matter with you lately?”
“Maybe I don’t want you poking around in my head and seeing the last time I took a shit.”
She winced, the slap of his words feeding the gnawing unease in her gut.
He unbuttoned his pants and began undressing. He didn’t look at her as he spoke. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. I’m just...I really need a vacation, and these half-assed working vacations aren’t cutting it.” He shrugged, but looked truly chagrined. “Can you cut me some slack for a few days?”
Chrissie nodded, but hurt knotted in her chest. “Sure. I’ll just—” She waved a hand. She had no idea what she’d do, but she’d get out of his way. If he was that sick of her, that’s what she had to do.
She went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the Jacuzzi tub. Was that why Rider had been so distant lately? He felt like she poked around in his head? She tried to see it from his perspective. What would it be like to have a girlfriend who could see your most vivid memories as clearly as you could? Who, the second she touched your hand, would know all about the more embarrassing moments of your past?
She supposed it would get pretty old and feel pretty intrusive to most. But Rider could choose when he let her in and when he kept her out. He used to tell her it was nice. She understood him in a way no one else could. All she had to do was let his hand slide against hers and she felt what it had been like to be raised so poor, to have a mother who didn’t understand him. She could see the isolation so many Specials knew so well. And she could see how he and Collin had been beaten up, down, and sideways as children. She could understand that their father’s drunken fists had never done as much damage as his words.
