Edge of Danger (26 page)

 
Control was overrated.

 
He still had her hands captured above her head, and her nails scored the back of his hand as she drew up her knees on either side of his hips, urging penetration. “Oh, God. Gabriel. Please—”

 
Silky legs wrapped around his hips, she crossed her ankles, digging her heels into the flexing muscles of his ass, drawing him harder against the heart of her. He’d forgotten how stubborn and determined this woman was.

 
Gabriel slid his hand beneath her hips, cupping the firm flesh of her bottom, lifting her to receive his first powerful thrust. His entry was hard and fast.

 
No, he thought dimly as his body immediately convulsed and spasmed.

 
He didn’t last even two seconds.

 
Eden’s hips lifted, and her body shuddered under the impact of his as she climaxed with him. The sensation of her sheath convulsing around him as he continued thrusting took his breath away. If he was wild, so was she, as she dug her nails into his back, her hips hammered back at his as he rode her hard and fast.

 
He kept thrusting powerfully inside her as a brilliant shower of white-hot sparks lifted their bodies off the bed in a slow spin. Sobbing, Eden bit his shoulder, and Gabriel gave a primal shout as a second climax followed so closely on the heels of the first that they barely had time to catch their breaths.

 
Drenched in sweat, they moved in a dance as old as time. He tried to say her name, but had to grit his teeth as she convulsed around him in a sensation so sharp, so sweet he forgot to breathe.

 
He climaxed again, and again their bodies rose several feet above the mattress as they did a slow rotation in direct counterpart to the heat and intensity of their lovemaking. Eden’s heels and fingernails dug into his back as they lowered gradually to the twisted sheets where they lay, still joined, their limbs entwined, their skin glued together. Their bodies continued to shudder and the convulsions became smaller and smaller until they lay limp and exhausted in each other’s arms.

 
With his face buried in Eden’s damp neck Gabriel inhaled the hot scent of jasmine and the fragrance of her skin.

 
Jesus. No finesse. No tenderness—“Are you all right? I’ve never lost control like that.” His voice was rough. “Not since I was a teenager, at least.” Lifting his head was an effort as he looked down at her.

 
Eden’s slumberous eyes met his. Sunlight brought out amber fire in their depths. Her swollen mouth curved in a satiated, cat-drank-the-cream smile. “It isn’t called losing control if it was reciprocal.”

 
He slid his fingers into her damp hair, loving the look of the chocolate strands curling around his fingers. Sunlight bathed her body, lightening her skin to cream and showing him the deep apricot color of her nipples. Looking at her, inhaling the unique scent of her skin and the musky fragrance of sex he felt himself grow hard again. She gave him a sleepy smile as her slim hands, cool as silk, moved down his back.

 
This time he moved slowly, intending to be more gentle, but as soon as she realized that he was starting to reignite passion she made a wild sound in the back of her throat, and tightened her ankles in the small of his back. Gabriel was lost.

 
They came again. Together. It wasn’t as intense as the other times, but it scared him more for its tenderness.

 
“Gabriel,” she whispered as the tension in their bodies slowly started to release its tight hold and muscles began to relax and unknot. She stroked his cheek with fingers that still trembled slightly. Her eyes were sleepy, but no less expressive. “That was incredible.”

 
An understatement. “Yeah.” His voice was thick, his heartbeat loud and heavy in his chest as he carefully separated from her. He saw exhaustion pull at her as her eyelids drooped. He took her hand from his face, tucking it against the heavy beat of his heart.

 
He wanted to take her in every way he could imagine, and then invent some more. He wanted to keep them both climaxing for a week. Then he wanted to be able to walk away unscathed.

 
Wasn’t going to happen.

 
He was so screwed.

 
“Mmmm.” The sound was distinctly drowsy.

 
He touched her cheek gently. Her flushed skin felt warm and satin smooth beneath his fingers. “Take a nap,” he told her gruffly. “I’ll be right here.”

 
Fascinated by her determination to keep her eyes open, when it was clear she was spent and completely exhausted, he watched her fight sleep. Finally her lids drifted closed as if her eyelashes were too heavy.

 
There was a certain amount of trust in her ability to sleep so soundly under the circumstances, Gabriel thought, surprised by that level of trust despite the gymnastics they’d indulged in for hours.

 
He had, after all, kidnapped her.

 
Physically he was spent, mentally he was in a sensual fog. He needed several cups of MacBain’s coffee. Hell, he needed to be away from the siren call of the woman whose scent and taste were now permanently and indelibly imprinted on his synapses.

 
On the bedside table the emergency line on the phone blinked red.
An update,
Gabriel thought savagely.
About fucking time.
His gaze went from the phone back to Eden curled trustingly beside him, one hand over his heart.

 
“I have to go downstairs to take a call,” he whispered to her, keeping his voice low. She didn’t answer. Her soft, slow breathing told Gabriel she’d be asleep for a while. He slipped from the bed and pulled on his jeans.

 
He was dressed as he shimmered into the library and picked up the phone. “What do we have?” he asked without preamble, tucking his T-shirt into his jeans and padding barefoot around the island that was his desk.

 
He could still taste the sweetness of her on his mouth. Still smell the light clean floral scent of her. He could hear the soft sound of longing she made. And wondered how dangerous it would be to kiss her again.

 
And if he kissed this woman once more, would he ever be able to stop? The situation with Eden Cahill was far more dangerous than he’d ever been led to believe. Not just because he felt drugged after their passionate bout of incredible lovemaking, but because he could feel himself falling under a dangerous spell. A spell that only he could control. And so far he was doing a piss-poor job of it.

 
He forced himself to concentrate on what Sebastian Tremayne was saying. The sooner this business with the fucking robot was resolved, the sooner he could send her back to Tempe, Arizona, and never see her again. It had only been a couple of days. No harm, no foul.

 
Sex, no matter how incredible, was still only sex.

 
“Yo? With me here, Edge?” Tremayne waited for Gabriel’s affirmative. “Heard of the Power Elite?”

 
Gabriel sat down in the big leather chair. A chair bought for a man who’d never sat in it. It had taken him years to realize that
he
fit his father’s chair just fine.

 
“Someone new?” he asked, motioning MacBain, who was carrying a tray, into the room. Not that MacBain needed the invitation.

 
“Unless it’s a splinter group,” Tremayne told him. “We’re working on it.”

 
MacBain placed the tray on Gabriel’s desk. The man had radar where he was concerned, Gabriel thought, as his manservant poured a mug of fragrant coffee from a thermal carafe, placed a coaster on the desk near at hand, then set down the mug, just so. On the tray was another mug, a couple of plates of sandwiches, and two slices of apple pie.

 
Gabriel picked up his coffee mug and cocked a brow at the duplications. MacBain gave him an innocent look before turning to shuffle off.

 
“How do we know the Power Elite has the bot?” Gabriel drank some of MacBain’s excellent French Roast. He’d need the entire pot to get rid of the sensual fog he was in. Damn it all to hell.

 
“They were kind enough to tell us,” Tremayne said dryly. “A call came into our tip line three minutes ago.”

 
It was a given that the trace had been unsuccessful, otherwise Sebastian would have told him the origination of the call. So all they had was a name. Not the size of the group, not their location, not their intent.

 
T-FLAC considered every call like this the real deal until it was proven otherwise. Terrorist groups thrived on generating fear early and often. Bragging before and after an act of terror was part and parcel of who they were. Reputations were built on promised threats and payoffs.

 
How long were they going to have to wait to get enough intel to stop these guys before they started? Or had they started already?

 
The door closed quietly as MacBain finally made it out of the room. “And did these upstanding citizens tell us what they plan to do with the damn thing?” Gabriel demanded, sitting back.

 
“Said we’d know soon enough. How’s it coming with the good doctor?”

 
The pun wasn’t lost on Gabriel. “I’ll keep you posted.”

 
“You need to step up th—”

 
“Let me know when you’ve got more.” He replaced the receiver. Jesus. He’d been so busy coming himself, that the thought of extracting the data from Eden’s mind had completely slipped
his.
He thought of her upstairs in his bed, and felt the answering heat power through him.

 
Eden opened her eyes when she felt the cool stroke of Gabriel’s hand on her breast. She gave him a sleepy smile. He’d said he’d be right there while she slept and he was.