Blindsided (37 page)

Tentatively, she reached out, placing her palms on his chest. Her fingers spread out, fanning over the ridge of his pectorals and across the small buds of his nipples. By the time the last finger had passed over them, the buds had tightened into hard little pebbles and he’d stopped breathing, his ribcage expanding to the max as he held in a lungful of air. Fascinating. As an experiment, she tweaked the nipples and was rewarded with a muttered oath and a flinch, as if he thought of stopping her.

Definitely something to come back to, but not now.

Her hands trailed down the front of him, memorizing each ridge of muscling. Her thumbs found the change in texture first, when smooth skin gave way to small tufts of body hair. She remembered this, the soft down of curls that started just above his navel and thickened in a straight line down toward his groin where it spread, cushioning what she remembered to be impressive equipment. Drifting down further she sucked in her breath as she closed her hand around the prize, measuring the length and breadth of him. She didn’t remember him being this big, maybe because she hadn’t seriously thought about following through with the foreplay. She was thinking about it now.

“Too much,” he groaned.
 

Her thought exactly.
 

His hand tightened over her hand, firmly removing it from around the head of his erection and placing it on his shoulder. He then removed her other hand and placed it at the side of his waist. “I’m going to go crazy if I can’t be inside you soon.”

She arched up, nipping his jaw. “Then make love to me, now.”

“You need to be ready first.”
 

Ready? She’d been ready since the first day they’d met.
 

“I’m ready,” she assured him, yet she flinched and yelped when two broad fingers dipped shockingly deep inside her.
 

“Shh. Concentrate on how it feels.” He kissed her, drawing those fingers in and out, stretching her, coating her entrance with her own moisture. She did and after the initial shock of intrusion, she found her legs drifting wider to allow him better access. The strangest sounds—moans?—erupted from between her lips.

Then his fingers were gone and he was firmly set over her.
Was that? Oh God!
She sucked in a breath in anticipation, unknowingly tensing. She could feel him slowly pressing inside of her, forging the way, stretching, burning, until he came to a stop, blocked by the tight muscles that had never been breached before.

He drew in three sharp breaths, seeming to fight for control. “You’re not ready.”

“Don’t stop!”
 

To her dismay he did.
 

Pulling out of her fully, he grasped her hips and yanked them up, leaning down over her. She gasped as he took possession of her with his mouth. Making love to her
there
with the same intensity and passion as he had her lips earlier. She let herself go, mewling as she turned her head and grasped at the satin sheets that became rumpled beneath them.

“Teigan,” she gasped, her body posed on the edge. She bit her lip, refusing to fall without him, but the sensations were too much, threatening to drown her. Just as she thought she would lose it he stopped. She whimpered as he moved over her and then,
then
he was inside her, his hips moving in slow powerful thrusts that had her arching and moaning and rocking her own hips in return, plunging him deeper with every dance-like movement. With each binding motion of their bodies, colors, which she hadn’t seen in years, burst behind her eyes. She blinked, lavishing in the ecstatic sensations of colorful lights, musky smells of sex, and intimate touch.

The colors collided, coalescing into a collage of features produced from her recent explorations. Dark brown hair over a ruggedly handsome face with its hard planes, wide masculine mouth, dual slashes of eyebrows over fully lashed eyes, and the blue irises a vibrant ring around intense black centers.

He stilled. She whimpered and wriggled, one thought foremost on her mind: More.

And then that face was bending down, those lips kissing hers; a large hand cupping her head as the other slid under her ass, angling her so he slid impossibly deeper.
 

Yes!

Slowly he slid out of her, so slowly she had long moments to mourn the loss of his fullness. She clung to him, her tongue and lips devouring his, her nails digging and biting into his back, she was so desperate for his return.

“Teigan!” she all but yelled against his mouth, more of a demand than a plea.
 

And then he was inside her again, in a series of thrusts that were faster, deeper, more intense, more… more… more…

“God!” He roared above her.

And then everything exploded.

***

Eventually her head stopped spinning, the throbbing of her body started to ebb, and though she could hear the furious beating of his heart, smell the delectable new sent of his seed mixed with her own intimate juices, she also became fully aware of something…off.
 

He must have felt her tense because he immediately rolled off of her, diving for the stunner he’d shucked with his pants. She reached out and grabbed his ankle, trying to get him to remain still so she could listen and pinpoint.

“What did you hear?” he demanded.

“I’m not—”

There was a burning flash of light that even she could see, followed immediately by a great crack of thunder and an equally alarming snap that signaled the splitting of nearby wood.

Was that what had startled her? The change in atmosphere just before a blast?

“Maybe that was it, the lightening.” She released Teigan, who rolled the rest of the way off the bed and began fumbling around as he donned his discarded clothes. She slid off the other side and hurried to the dresser, opening the top left drawer for a t-shirt and the bottom left for a pair of casual slacks.

“You sure?” he asked, closer to the door.

“Sure? No, but—”

Wind surged into a roar and another thunderous boom covered what she’d been about to say. On the heels of the crash a door slammed somewhere within the house. Frodo began barking madly, punctuating his displeasure with the occasional growl.

“Fuck.” Teigan was beside her again, pressing his stunner into her hand. Her fingers instinctively closed around the cool, poly grip. He grabbed her shoulders, turned her body slightly. “Safety’s off. Anyone comes through that door but me, you lift to level and pull the trigger.”

She drew in a deep breath. “No. I don’t—”

The sliding door slammed open, and then closed. Frodo let out an earsplitting bark. A man yelled. Something heavy crashed in the solarium. Someone yelled “Shit!”—Garret.
 

And then all hell broke loose.

Chapter Twenty-six

Teigan lunged into the hallway, the knife from his boot clutched in his hand. Of course the case of extra weapons was in the solarium…where the shit had just hit the fan.

Back to the wall, eyes scanning from his three to nine and back, he slipped up the hall at high speed. Knife posed for throwing, he rounded the corner…and had to bite back a laugh. Garret had Frodo by the collar and was pulling him off the man who’d knocked over a rolling tea cart and was spread unceremoniously on the floor. Nolan, red faced and fuming, scrambled back up.

“What’s going on?” Aria gripped his shoulder from behind him.

Fuck. Why couldn’t she stay put? The sliding glass door wasn’t the only door that had slammed open.

“Frodo went after Nolan,” Garret explained. His gaze passed from her back to Teigan, knowledge in his eyes.

Fuck. Was nothing secret around a V-10?

Garret gave Teigan a satisfied grin and nodded his head. Yup, brother knew what had gone down in the cottage while he’d been out traipsing through the forest. At least she’d pulled on some clothes.

Aria stepped around Teigan, snapped her fingers and pointed at her feet. “Frodo, heel!”

Frodo whined uncertainly but slunk over to Aria, plopping his butt down beside her.

“What the fuck was that for? He’s met me.” Nolan rubbed his arm, checking out the deep imprints of teeth. Amazingly Frodo hadn’t broken skin. Teigan wondered if that was because the V-10’s hide was so tough, or if Frodo
had
recognized him enough that he’d tempered his bite.

“You’re pumped up with adrenaline. Combined with the thunder storm and you two bursting in like that…” Delicate shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug.

Nolan shook his head, threw a last look at Frodo, lip curled back. “Stupid mutt. Almost snapped your furry neck.”

Aria stiffened. “Then I appreciate that you didn’t.”

“Anything for you, doll.” Nolan threw her a cocky grin. His nostrils flared slightly and instantly the smile faded, his face going hard and blank.

Nope. No secrets. For once Teigan was glad Aria couldn’t see. He didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable about what they had just done.

Nolan turned his attention to Teigan, all soldier once more. “Traps are set.” He jerked his head toward Garret. “And I’ve rounded up the strays.”

“Did you two come in different doors?” Teigan asked sharply.

Garret shifted so he had a better view into the rest of the house, his stance ready, hand on his gun. “Nope. Came in together. Why?”

“Neither of you lost your security keys, did you?” The keys let the sensors know it was someone authorized entering the premises so they wouldn’t go off needlessly.

“Got mine. Nolan?”

Nolan yanked out his tags, showing the slim tube attached to it.
 

Teigan scooted around Aria, putting her in the middle of the triangle formed by him and the two other men. “Another door banged open before you two came in.”

“Did you get a pin on the location?” Nolan lifted his Heringer Z510 and skulked around the edges of the room, checking windows, then the pass through to the kitchen.

“Upstairs,” Aria provided, not sounding worried, “probably just the ghost.”

“The ghost,” Garret deadpanned.

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “That’s what the old caretaker always said, but really, it’s just a draft. When it storms the guest bedroom door will bang open if it hasn’t been latched properly.”

Nolan looked at Teigan, a question in his eyes. Teigan nodded and jerked his head toward the hall stairs. The V-10 moved out on stealthy feet, fully in the zone. Ghost or draft, he was taking his job seriously. Good. Despite his crushed hopes where Aria was concerned, Nolan didn’t disappoint.

“This storm is going to make things harder.” Garret had turned his attention back to the sliding doors.
 

Outside rain blew down in sheets, slapping against the glass. Occasionally, a streak of lightening illuminated the bent trees bowing over the perimeter of the normally organized gardens. The gardens themselves were a mess. A large pine had split and fallen across the grassy heli-pad. Petals, leaves, and broken shrubbery littered the rest of the grounds. With each new gust of wind they were grabbed up and tossed around some more, a tornado of debris that worked further to lend to the chaos.

“It will get worse if the power goes out,” Aria said, her hand smoothing down Frodo’s ruffled fur. The dog jumped whenever there was a rumble of thunder and she was alternating between soft shushes and gentle pats.

Teigan glanced from Aria to the violent storm back to her. Power outages? Hell, he’d never considered that. “Does that happen often?”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Hello, you wanted isolated. We’re fed off an ancient above ground line that runs between Manassas and Warrenton. I’m actually surprised it hasn’t gone out yet.”

Teigan vigorously rubbed his face, thinking about how the sensors, though self-powered, were linked to the main system which was plugged into the house’s juice. He racked his brain. Had he brought a backup power source that would power that mother f-er? Nope. “Great. That’s just wonderful.”

“Didn’t bring enough juice for the mobile unit?” Garret asked. He managed to keep a straight face, but there was a definite hint of amusement in his voice.

“Nope.”
 

Outside there was another flash, crash and rumble. The wind stilled, then picked back up with a vengeance. Garret looked out the window at the driving rain, which was now coming down horizontally to the ground. His gaze shifted back to Teigan. “Maybe you better send the old man up in the sky a memo, apprise him of the situation and see if he’ll tone back on the fireworks show.”

Good thought. He’d get right on that.
 

Nolan came back into the room, giving Teigan the all clear. One less worry. They should think about setting up some alternative sensors—stacked cans behind doors, strings with something that would make noise if a window was opened—i.e.
primitive
sensors. He was about to suggest it when the lights flickered, went out, came back on, then fizzled out again, plunging them into darkness.

“I don’t think God got the memo,” Nolan quipped. “Either that or He doesn’t like you much.”

Possibly, but Teigan suspected it had something more to do with already having maxed out on his favors today. First there had been his little prayers earlier, then with what had just occurred between himself and Aria in the bedroom. Amazing. Mind-blowing. A fucking miracle all in itself.