“I think you know what I want,” she said.
“I think I do too.” Scott glanced around the bathroom, homing in on the spot where Phoebe had left her clothes and handbag. “Please tell me you have a condom in that purse.”
“You’re in luck. I always have one emergency condom on me.”
Scott lowered his head to hers. “I think this qualifies as an emergency.”
17
The moment Phoebe handed Scott the condom from the handbag, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the master bedroom. A few seconds later, Phoebe found herself with her back on the bed, while Scott stood there, looking at her hungrily. Already during the night she’d spent in his bed she’d thought he was an extraordinary male specimen, but today he appeared even more so. There was a determination about him, an intensity she could only assume was caused by the fact that he was on the run and could be caught at any moment. Why else would he look at her like a man who needed to experience everything he could because this could be the last time he had the chance?
When she stretched her arms out to him, he ripped the condom open and slid it over his cock, his hands almost trembling. There would be no foreplay today, no slow caresses, no drawn-out kisses. This would be an intense coupling, a passionate union of their bodies.
Scott didn’t say anything when he joined her on the bed and moved over her and used his knees to spread her thighs farther apart. Yet his gaze spoke volumes. He needed her. If only for this moment, this day, maybe this week.
When she felt the thick head of his cock at her sex, she only had a split second to take a breath before he breached her portal and drove inside. Only a groan came over his lips, while he clenched his jaw. Then his mouth was on hers and his tongue mimicked the actions of his cock, stroking her tongue in the same rhythm as his cock thrust in and out of her.
His pelvis slammed against her sex with each movement, hard and relentless, while his hands on her body practically immobilized her. As if he needed to have absolute control. Had she not seen the tenderness he was capable of, the compassion and selflessness he’d shown her that first night, she would have been frightened by his dominance. But now this side of him only added to the complexity of his character. A man who craved love—she’d gathered that from what he’d told her about his adoptive father—yet was forced to demonstrate strength and control, supremacy and power. Scott was showing her both sides of himself: the vulnerable one and the powerful one. She was drawn to both—the man she could comfort, and the man she could submit to.
And right now, she submitted to him and adjusted her movements to his demands. She allowed him to take what he needed from her, to prove to her with his body that he was strong, that he would fight anybody who threatened them.
Phoebe locked her ankles behind his butt, forcing him deeper into her while her hands roamed his body, wanting to feel him, to touch him, to remember him. Her actions seemed to spur him on even more, and his thrusts turned more forceful and faster.
When she gasped for air, Scott released her lips for a short moment, breathing hard, before he slanted his mouth over hers again and continued kissing her. As if something bad would happen if he stopped.
Phoebe felt strangely safe in his arms. Oddly protected. But more than that, she felt desired. Wanted. Needed. Much more so than when he’d worshipped her body by making her come with his mouth. Because that night he’d been in control of himself. Today he wasn’t. Something was driving him. And because of it, she saw the man beneath the mask, the man whose passion was raw and untamed, the man whose desires were unleashed. And he’d unleashed them on her.
Instinctively she knew this was a first for him. The first time he was letting himself go. The first time he wasn’t holding back. She felt it in his kiss and the way his body tensed every time he plunged into her.
Her own body heated, caused not only by Scott’s physical actions, but by the knowledge of what he was trying to tell her with them. She still had questions, even more than before he’d told her about his past, and she sensed there was so much more he was keeping to himself. But at the moment, none of that was important.
Only their lovemaking counted. And though Scott was neither tender nor gentle today, it was still lovemaking. Any outsider looking at them would have seen it as frantic sex where neither participant was looking for anything but his own pleasure. But the desperation with which Scott kissed her and the passion he poured into her proved to her this meant more than just physical release.
When Scott suddenly severed the kiss, she felt his cock jerk inside her. His face tensed and he cursed, before his body spasmed. For an instant she thought he’d have the same kind of seizure she’d watched him have the night before, but then she realized he was climaxing, and her body relaxed with relief.
Seconds later, he stilled and braced himself on his elbows to take his weight off her.
“I’m so sorry, Phoebe. You deserve better than me fucking you like an animal.” He looked away, seemingly too ashamed to meet her eyes.
She took his chin and forced his head back to her. “Scott, look at me.”
He opened his eyes.
“I enjoyed this.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t come. It was selfish of me.”
Phoebe stroked his cheek. “You’re not selfish. Or do I need to remind you of when you went down on me and made me come with your mouth?”
“How about I repeat that now?”
She laughed. “Oh, Scott, how about you just hold me in your arms for a while?”
“Is that all you want?”
“For now, that’s more than enough.”
~ ~ ~
At her words, Scott rose from the bed. After discarding the condom and cleaning himself off, he rejoined Phoebe in bed and slid under the covers with her. He pulled her against him, cradling her in the curve of his body like he’d done the night she’d spent in his bed.
He didn’t understand what had come over him, fucking her like this. Pounding into her without taking care of her, without seeing to her pleasure. But he’d needed this. He’d needed to feel alive.
Even though Phoebe had said she only wanted to be held now, Scott couldn’t accept that. He had to grant her the same pleasure he’d taken for himself. He knew she was aroused. Her sex had been warm and wet, and now, as he pressed his groin against her backside and slid his hand over her mound, he felt that same moist heat.
“What are you doing?” she murmured.
“What I should have done earlier.”
“But we don’t have any condoms left.”
“I won’t get inside you this time. And I won’t come. This is just for you.”
“You don’t have to—”
He cut her protest off by rubbing his finger over her center of pleasure.
“Lift your leg a little,” he coaxed. When she did, he guided his still semi-erect cock between her thighs and slid along her female folds. Her juices made the contact smooth.
“Now relax and let me take care of you.”
With slow, circular movements he caressed her clit, while his cock rubbed along her sex, sliding back and forth without entering her. The soft petals felt intoxicating. So amazing, in fact, he knew he would climax again if he continued doing this for too long. He tried not to think of the sensations that touching her like this sent through his body and instead concentrated on Phoebe.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered into her ear and continued caressing her.
“Hmm.”
His touch remained light and playful. Every so often he gathered moisture that oozed from her sex and bathed her clit in it, and every time he did so, Phoebe moaned softly. He wasn’t rushing her. In truth, he was going to draw this out for as long as he could. Whenever he felt her breathing accelerate and her body tense, he stilled his finger and only continued thrusting his cock along her folds. He’d gotten hard as an iron bar again, but this time he would only use his cock for her pleasure and forgo his.
“Don’t stop,” Phoebe begged now.
“I’m not. I’m only making sure you don’t come too quickly. I want this to last.”
Slowly Scott resumed his gentle ministrations, drawing circles around her center of pleasure, teasing the engorged bundle of nerves until again she tensed. And again, he stilled his finger and only moved his erection back and forth, her plentiful juices coating it.
He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing her there, then nibbled on her earlobe. “I wish I could touch you like this all day and all night.”
“Scott, please, you’re killing me.” She thrust her pelvis against his hand in an unmistakable demand that he rub his finger over her sensitive flesh again.
He complied with her demand and now caressed her with more pressure. She moaned out loud.
“Oh yes!”
“Not yet, baby,” he cautioned and slowed again, then he slid his finger lower and pulled back his cock so he could thrust his finger into her.
Phoebe bucked against him, hissing out a breath.
It was a shame they didn’t have any condoms left, because now that he felt her muscles clench around his finger, the urge to take her became overwhelming. But he’d have to exercise restraint. To distract himself, he pulled his finger from her and slid it higher, rubbing the moist digit over her engorged nub again.
This time, he didn’t get a chance to remove it again, because Phoebe pressed her hand over his and imprisoned him there.
“All right, then,” he conceded. “As you wish, baby.”
Scott rubbed her clit, accelerating his tempo and increasing his pressure, while he thrust his cock back and forth in the same rhythm. When he felt Phoebe tense in his arms, her breath hitching in her throat, he doubled his efforts.
A relieved moan rolled off her lips and her sex spasmed underneath his hand. He felt the waves that traveled through her body reach his erection and bounce against it. The sensation nearly robbed him of his control. He clenched his jaw to fight back his orgasm.
Breathing hard, his hand stilled and he simply cupped her sex with it and pressed her to his heaving chest.
When she turned her head to him, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her tenderly. Then he looked into her eyes. “See? Much better than just holding you in my arms, don’t you agree?”
“Well, if you put it that way.”
Her cheeks were flushed, and he realized he liked that look on her. He liked it very much. “Why don’t you sleep a bit while I take care of a few things?”
Instantly, an alarmed expression filled her eyes. “Take care of what?”
He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. There’s virtually nothing in the freezer. I’ll have to get us something to eat.”
She clasped his hand. “But you’ll be back.”
“Phoebe, do you really think I’d just abandon you after this?” This wasn’t a one-night stand anymore. Phoebe meant something to him. What, he wasn’t sure yet. But in any case, he couldn’t leave her until he’d made sure he’d eliminated the threat against her. And even after that—well, he was getting ahead of himself.
First he’d have to put out his feelers to find out who was onto him. And there was one place to start.
18
Few people knew what the Deep Web—or Deepnet, as it was sometimes called—really was. Even fewer had ever accessed it. Scott knew it well. He’d used it many times during his time in the CIA. Though he had never been a true field agent—never been sent out on missions like the regular agents, because he was part of the Phoenix program—he’d received the same training as all other CIA agents. And he’d made contact with certain underground elements, people who didn’t want to be identified but were happy to trade secrets, sell information or weapons, or cruise the job boards for him. However, for the jobs posted there, the resumes consisted of the number of kills one had under one’s belt. And failing an assignment meant certain death.
When creating the Phoenix program, Sheppard had insisted on his agents being trained in all manners of combat and clandestine affairs, though their work didn’t require it. Their training and later their work had consisted of having to watch news and current events, read articles and books on vast and various topics, view images and surf the Web with the idea that these images and input would stimulate the agent’s precognitive gift and show him a premonition. Whenever an agent had a premonition, he had to report it to Sheppard, who would then analyze it and decide whether to act on it.
In the meantime, the men from Phoenix lived regular lives, worked regular jobs. Scott had always repaired motorcycles, a task that calmed him. Whenever he’d had a premonition, he’d reported it to Sheppard, just like he assumed the other Phoenix had done too. He’d had more contact with the CIA than he believed others of the program had, simply because Sheppard was his father.
Scott was glad now for the training he’d received at The Farm and later from his father. Had Sheppard known that his Phoenix would one day have to rely on this training to stay alive? Had he had a premonition about it?
After going through the closet in the teenager’s bedroom, Scott picked an outfit he hoped would attract less attention than his motorcycle gear, and dressed quickly. When he stepped out on the street, he could have been mistaken for a college kid out for a run—a baseball cap obstructing half his face, running shoes, baggy shorts and a T-shirt completing the disguise. He didn’t want to take the motorcycle out in plain daylight, concerned about any nosy neighbors being alerted. As a pedestrian he drew much less attention in this neighborhood.
He knew he wouldn’t have to run far. There was a mall just two blocks down the road, and downtown was only a mile away. The house wasn’t in the suburbs, where he would have been more concerned with neighbors knowing their neighbors and therefore watching out for anything unusual while a family was on vacation. While he knew he still had to be careful, there was a certain anonymity in a neighborhood this close to downtown and the mall. The fact that there was an apartment building on the end of the block and another one on the next cross street told him there was enough turnover in this neighborhood that he would blend in easily.