Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) (10 page)

“We’ll see about reversing roles in a little bit.” That made her hot between
her legs, so she shook her head and focused on the task of relieving his muscle
pain. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I don’t mind a little rough treatment.” Again, he looked at her over his
shoulder, his mouth turned up, and she wanted to throw herself at him.

Massage. Focus on the massage.

She walked her fingers around his tattoo, fighting the urge to trace the
design with her tongue. His skin was warm against her right hand and as she
moved around his shoulders, up his neck, down his back, his muscles loosened,
his body relaxed. Well, she imagined there might be at least one spot on his
body that wasn’t so loose, wasn’t so relaxed.

Fanning herself for a minute with her hands, she dove back in and continued
rubbing him until he felt like soft clay under her grip.

“Feeling better?” she asked when he took in a deep breath and sifted it
out, his spine sagging a bit.

“If I say yes, will you stop touching me?” He took her hand from his
shoulder where she’d rested it and tugged until she had to move to his side.
Sliding back on the couch, he pushed his shirt off his lap and raised a hand to
fiddle with the ends of her hair. “Because I definitely don’t want you to stop
touching me.”

The way he was looking at her right now set fires inside her body.
All-consuming. Inferno-level. Magma rising to the mouth of the volcano. Seconds
to eruption.

“I’m glad I decided to keep you safe personally. Some others wanted to
shadow you, you know.”

“Is that what you’re doing?
Shadowing
me?” He traced circles on
her bare shoulder, his pale green eyes settling on her lips.

“Yes.” She climbed onto his lap and smoothed her palms over his chest. “I
think it’s best if I stay very, very close to you.”

His pupils doubled in size as his arms came around her waist. “To keep me
safe?” He pulled her a bit closer and the heat between their bodies exploded.

When he pressed his lips against the curve of her neck and trailed a
course along her shoulder, she thought maybe she needed someone to keep
her
safe. Safe from falling for this guy.

“Your safety is the Boston Police Department’s top priority.” Her voice
was husky and didn’t sound like hers at all.

Foster slid the shoulder strap of her tank top down and lightly nipped at
her collarbone. A sound came out of her she’d never made before. One of longing
and arousal, and if he stopped now she’d cry. Truly.

His fingers slithered up into her hair, lightly scraping her skull as
they moved and causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. Her hands pulled off her
tank top without her consciously telling them to do so.

The groan that ushered out of Foster made her feel sexy—something she
didn’t feel often. She was so busy trying to keep herself, Zeke, and Ghared
from losing the battle in the city that she’d lost touch with her own needs,
her wants.

Doctor Foster Ashby was definitely something she wanted.

“So beautiful.” His words were uttered on a whisper, like a secret meant
only for her to hear.

She wanted to tell him he was beautiful too because, holy shit, he was,
but Darina found her ability to formulate complete thoughts and convey words
had been lost. Her body was in charge now, and it wasn’t giving up control any
time soon.

Foster shifted so she was spread out on the couch. He leaned over her on
his elbows, mere inches between their chests. “Do you believe in seizing the
moment?”

“Yes.” The couch was soft beneath her. The man was hard above her. A
wonderful sandwich she found herself in.

“Good. So do I.”

His mouth crashed down on hers, possessive, devouring her as if she were
dessert in a world that no longer served anything sweet. He slid his left thigh
between her legs and pushed up enough to have her writhing beneath him.

Damn.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted something
so damn much. Well, she could, but she wasn’t going to think about that right
now.

Seize
this
moment.
No living in the past.

Her hands came around Foster’s back, her fingernails grazing his skin,
marking him, claiming him, willing him to do the same to her. She’d had no idea
how badly she wanted someone to claim her. Aside from Zeke and Ghared, her life
was solitary. She’d fooled herself into thinking that was how she wanted it. No
doubt it was safer that way. Less people to worry about. Less likely someone would
discover Zeke. Less likely to catch Warres’s plague. Less chance of her heart
getting stomped on. Again.

But it’s also less adventurous, less fun, less living.

Her hands slid between them, reaching for the zipper on his pants. He sat
up and gave her better access, his chest rising and falling with his rapid
breathing—breathing that matched hers. She felt dizzy, out of control, alive.

“Darina.” The word came out on a breath as she freed his impressive
erection, her own arousal growing exponentially as she imagined Foster burying
himself deep inside her.

His hands went to her pants now, his fingers slowly pulling her zipper
down and hooking on the waistband, tugging downward. His fingertips scraped
along her hips, and she arched her back, allowing him to slide the pants past
her ass. He paused, his eyes darkening as he took her in, seeming to commit her
body to memory.

The anticipation. Was. Killing. Her.

“Please, Foster.” She didn’t make a habit of begging for anything.
Begging was a sign of weakness, but tonight she didn’t care. She wanted Foster
Ashby. She’d beg for him.

He grinned, a slow upturn of his magnificent lips, and she reached her
arms up to bring him back down flush against her. His arousal rubbed along her
wet, ready folds, and she nearly cried out, wanting desperately for him to fill
her.

“We don’t need any protection, do we?” She somehow had the presence of
mind to ask this question.

“I can’t impregnate you,” he said softly, something sad creeping into his
gorgeous green eyes, “and I’m immune to disease.” He cleared his throat. “Not
that I think you have any diseases… I… uh… I meant I can’t give you anything.”
His cheeks pinked, and she wanted him even more if that were possible.

She closed the small distance between them and caught his mouth with
hers. Her tongue tangled with his and each stroke had her vibrating with need.

He cupped her face with one hand, the gesture tender yet possessive, and
Darina was ready.

So ready.

“Mom?” Zeke’s voice, though muffled, cut through the lustful haze and they
both froze.

“Shit,” Darina hissed.

“He’s in the hallway.” Instantly, Foster lifted himself off her and
struggled with zipping his pants.

“Something in the way there, Doc?” she teased as she wrestled her own
pants back up.

He laughed, raking his hand through his hair and squirming back into his
T-shirt. Handing Darina her tank top, he dropped a light kiss on her lips and
whispered, “Promise me we’ll try this again. Please.”

She smiled and opened the door. “We’ll see.”

“Tease.” He followed her out of the library.

“There you are.” Zeke marched down the hallway, splitting a glance
between them.

Oh, damn. Don’t let him do the calculations here.

If Zeke figured out what was going on—or worse still, if she had to know
that he’d figured out what was going on—she would die a thousand deaths.

Without having had the actual sex.

Tragic.

Zeke stopped about a yard in front of her. “Ghared had to leave?”

“Yes.” She smoothed the front of her tank top, wondering how
I-almost-had-amazing-sex she looked.

“Mareea?” Zeke’s dark eyes softened on her name.

Darina had noticed Zeke spent more time with Mareea than usual lately.
Did he have feelings other than friendship for the girl? She was a sweet
teenager who loved her uncle to pieces. Of course, he was the only one who paid
any attention to her from her family. Her mother—Ghared’s sister, Lilia—was a
rotten woman, full of hate and illegal substances. Darina herself had arrested
the chick twice, but she knew how to play the game and usually got an early
parole. As a cop, Darina didn’t mind so much that the woman got out of jail so
frequently. What pissed her off was how she treated—or didn’t treat—her only
daughter.

It wasn’t right.

“I hope Mareea’s okay,” Zeke said.

Darina rested her hands on his shoulders. “You know Ghared will make sure
she’s okay.”

He gave her a half-smile. “That’s true.” He looked over her shoulder at
Foster. “You have an amazing place here, Dr. Ashby.”

Darina eased out a breath. Zeke wasn’t going to question what she’d been
doing in that library with Foster.

Crisis averted.

But her arousal was still at a dangerously high level. She was going to
have to do something about that. A shower, perhaps?

Now she was picturing water droplets gliding down Foster’s impressive
body. Not helping.

“I’m glad you like it here,” Foster said, his hand digging into his
pocket. He held the bottle of medicine out to Zeke. “You should take this.
You’ll need another drop tomorrow. Still feeling awesome?”

Zeke nodded. “Better than awesome.” He took the bottle and held it up,
wiggling it slightly. “Thanks.” He pocketed the bottle and looked at Darina.
“Are you overseeing the first watch out there?”

“No.” She glanced back to Foster, who was standing close enough she could
feel his heat on her backside—a heat she had been feeling on her
front
side only minutes ago in the library. “I’m guarding Doctor Ashby personally.
The folks out there on the perimeter watches are our first line of defense.

She hoped that was the only line of defense they’d need.

“Are we staying in this house if you’re guarding Dr. Ashby yourself?”
Zeke asked around a yawn and a stretch of his arms above his head.

Darina scratched her forehead, and that simple movement captivated
Foster. Good thing she was standing in front of him. Otherwise, Zeke would see
one powerful erection straining to bust out of Foster’s cargo pants. He’d need
a visit from one of his hologram women later, not that any of them would be
able to compare to having Darina in his arms, ready and willing and real. To
have been that close to burying himself inside her and not being able to was
torture.

“I guess I didn’t think about where we would crash,” Darina said.

“So like you, Mom.” Zeke rolled his eyes but smiled at her. “Too busy
working to think of mundane things like sleeping.”

“Evil—”

“Never sleeps,” Zeke finished. “I know. I know.” He looked at Foster.
“She should have that tattooed on her.”

“Well, it’s true.” Darina crossed her arms over her chest as she faced
Foster. His gaze immediately went to her breasts which swelled a bit at the low
neck of her tank top. She followed his gaze, smirked, then dropped her arms.
“Where can Zeke and I bunk?”

Foster had ideas on where Darina could bunk, and all of them involved
being right by his side. He envisioned her hair splayed out on his pillow while
he leaned over her and possessed her body, her mind, her very soul if he could
manage it. It would be a challenge, but one he couldn’t resist.

“Foster?” She poked him in the stomach, a slight smile on her lips. “A
room for me and the kid?”

“Right.” He blinked the image of her naked body out of his mind and
turned around. “Follow me.”

He led them past the library—a room that would now be counted among his
favorites—and paused at two doors at the end of the hallway. Pointing to the
second one, he said, “That’s my bedroom.” He desperately wanted to finish that
sentence with, “and won’t you please join me in there, Darina?” Instead, he
indicated the first door. “This is a guest room you both can stay in. I think
you’ll find it has ample space, yet is still in close proximity to mine. You
know, so you can oversee my safety. Personally.”

Zeke’s hand was on the doorknob, while Darina blinked up at Foster, her
hazel eyes full of the same fire Foster felt in his entire body.

“Check it out, Mom.” Zeke had stepped into the room, and Darina broke eye
contact with Foster to follow him.

The guest room was painted a deep hunter green and the walls sported
several of Estoria’s paintings of deer. Two twin beds were perpendicular to one
wall, while wide windows comprised most of the wall opposite them. Those
windows offered a prime view of the massive waterwheel Roben and some of the
others had built along the stream. When the windows were open as they were now,
the rhythmic shush of water dumping out of the waterwheel’s buckets drifted in
on the gentle summer breeze like a natural lullaby.

The quilts on the two beds were a soft brown, almost like deer hide, with
embroidered evergreen branches and pinecones. The bedside tables, the headboards,
and a high-backed rocking chair had all been handmade by Roben in an old Shaker
style. No one ever stayed in that room, so it still smelled of freshly milled
pine.   

“What a cozy room,” Darina said, running her fingers along the softness
of the quilt on the closest bed.

“There’s a bathroom through there.” Foster pointed to a door by the
closet. “Help yourselves to any supplies you find. Make yourselves
comfortable.”

Zeke had gone to check out the bathroom then let out a gleeful whoop when
he discovered the shower. Peeking his head out the door, he said, “I call first
to shower.”

“Go for it. You stink worse than me anyway,” Darina said, laughing.

Zeke’s mouth dropped open, but when he sniffed his underarm, he made a
face. “Ugh. You’re right.” He closed the door and a second later, running water
sounded.

When Zeke started singing—quite well actually—Darina turned to face
Foster. “You sure know how to make a teenage GEC happy. First seizure medicine,
now a shower. He’ll never want to leave.”

Never want to leave.
That didn’t seem like a bad idea to Foster.
What if they all stayed on this property? What if they forgot about the world
outside its boundaries? What if they lived the rest of their days, blissfully
happy, right there?

“It’s a nice thought,” Darina said, reading his mind, “but we wouldn’t be
able to live with ourselves if we didn’t do what we could for the rest of the
population.”

“Damn.” Foster took her hand and tugged until her front was pressed up
against his front. “Maybe after we save the world then?”

“We’ll see.” The second time she’d given him that reply. It was enough to
keep him hoping.

“Wouldn’t you be able to better protect me if you stayed in my room with
me?” It only made good security sense.

“That would be the best scenario,” Darina said, bringing a finger up to
trace along his tattoo, “but what kind of mother would I be if I left Zeke all
alone in a strange place for the night?”

“Ah, the responsible parent role. I can’t argue with that, now can I?”
Foster brushed her hair from her face and dipped his head to nibble on her
earlobe.

She breathed out a needy noise that touched Foster deep inside. “No, you
can’t.” Pushing up on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered,
“Good night, Foster,” into his ear.

Slipping out of his hold, she stepped to the door and leaned against it.
When he walked by, he paused and hooked his hand on the back of her neck. “If
you have any trouble sleeping, any trouble at all, I’m right there.” He pointed
to the door to his room.

“Good to know.” She nudged him into the hallway. “You’re going in there
now, right?”

Foster nodded.

“And you’ll stay there all night?”

Again, he nodded.

“Good.” She pulled out a small flashlight from her back pocket and walked
down the hallway to the great room.

After two quick flashes of the light, Foster heard voices. When Darina
returned, she had two others with her—Rasha and Hydec. Foster had found these
two GECs on this very property, deep in the woods, about ten years ago. Cast
off because Rasha’s blood didn’t clot properly and Hydec’s skin couldn’t
tolerate direct sunlight, the pair had found each other and had set up a camp
together. Foster had given Rasha a blood thickener and Hydec a high-potency UV
sunblock, but they’d decided to stay with him instead of trying to blend into
society. Rasha had proven to be an outstanding farmer, and Hydec was a wall of
muscle who could lift just about anything.

“Rasha and Hydec are assigned to guard your door tonight,” Darina said,
her voice official. Again, the authoritative tone sent ripples of desire
through Foster.  

“It is our great honor to help,” Hydec said. “We owe Foster so much.”

“I’ve told you a million times,” Foster said, “neither of you owe me
anything.” He turned to Darina. “Rasha and Hydec helped me build this main
house and the cottages.”

“Here’s to hoping your guarding skills are as good as your house-building
skills.” Darina clapped them both on the back, checked their weapons, and
saluted Foster. “Nighty-night, Doc.”

She stepped into the guest room and with a quick look to Foster, she shut
the door.

“She’s different,” Hydec said.

“Different,” Foster said. “That’s one word for her.” He could think of
several others and they all had to do with how sexy she was, how she made his
blood rush around in his veins.

He stared at the guest room door for a moment before snapping out of his
fantasies and walking to his own bedroom door. Looking at Rasha and Hydec, he
said, “Thanks for what you’re doing for me.”

They both nodded solemnly as they took up posts on either side of his
door.

“Foster?”

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and squinted into the dark
hallway.

“Show yourself,” Hydec said, his hand on his weapon as he flicked on the
hall light.

Rasha was in a ready position as well, and Foster didn’t like seeing his
normally peaceful friends look so fierce. Of course they all had that in them.
They were bred to be soldiers after all. Their DNA had been specifically
engineered to heighten their fight response.

Still… he didn’t like it.

“It’s just me.” Estoria stepped closer. “Do you have a minute, Foster?”

“Of course.” He touched Rasha’s shoulder to get her to lower her weapon. “There
might be a need for a talk about who is the enemy and who isn’t.”

“I don’t think we should underestimate Warres,” Hydec said. “We have no
idea what his plans may be.”

“I agree.” Rasha stowed her weapon, but her posture remained tensed and
ready for action.

“So do I,” Foster said, “but no one on this property is the enemy. No
one.”

He reached for Estoria’s hand and tugged her to the great room. Rasha and
Hydec followed close behind and stood at the doorway. This guarding thing was
going to get annoying.

Unless it was Darina guarding him. Personally. All the time. That he
could live with. That he
wanted
to live with.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Estoria, pushing thoughts of Darina from
his mind. Or trying to anyway.

“Just the usual tiredness and sore muscles.” She shrugged and slumped
onto one of the leather couches, patting her stomach. “I can already feel
things resetting themselves though.”  

“This one was a girl, right?” Foster took a seat beside her.

“Yes. A little angel.” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders
shaking as she cried.

Foster collected Estoria into his arms as he had after every stillborn
baby she delivered, twenty by his count. “Oh, Essie.” He smoothed her long
blonde hair, still damp from the shower she must have taken before coming to
the main house. “I wish I knew how to help you.”

She looked up at him. “I know you do, Foster. I know.” She wiped her eyes
with her hands, sniffled, then squared her shoulders. “I want to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?” He was the one who should be apologizing to her.
All these years and he’d never been able to find a way to relieve her of her
condition, of her bad genetic engineering.

“For the way I acted with your guests. I was less than welcoming.” She
sniffed again and wiped away a few leftover tears. “I don’t know why I was like
that.” She lifted watery blue eyes to him.

“I know why you were. I just paraded them in without checking with
anyone. That was rude on my part.” He rubbed her hand between his.

“You don’t have to check with us, Foster. This is
your
place. You
can do whatever you want here.”

Foster shook his head. “No. That’s where you’re wrong, Essie. This is
our
place. It belongs to all of us. We’ve made it what it is together. I couldn’t
have accomplished all we have here on my own. It takes our combined skills to
keep it functioning the way it does. We’re a… we’re a…”

“A family?” she finished, a hopeful arch to her eyebrows.

“Aren’t we?” He couldn’t think of another word to describe the
relationships between everyone on the property. It seemed to fit. He wanted it
to fit.

“I suppose we are.” Estoria pulled on her bottom lip as she thought. “And
if we are a family, Darina and Zeke should gain membership. Zeke helped Setton
harvest blueberries and the boy is a total sweetheart. He makes me wonder what
any one of my sons would have grown up to be.” She rubbed her hand over her now
flat stomach. “And Darina… she didn’t hesitate one second to help me when I was
giving birth in the woods. She was very kind.”

“She’s amazing.” Foster couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.

Estoria’s hand clamped onto his forearm, her eyes wide. “You like her.”

“I enjoy her company, yes.”

Her lips twitched up at the corners. “Enjoy her company. Hmm. Okay.”

Foster poked her side, and she swatted his hand away.

“I think you more than enjoy her company, Foster. And that’s okay, you
know? You’re allowed to think about yourself every once in a while.”

If only that were true.

****

Finally Mikale’s associates had brought him something useful. He turned
on his flashlight. The teenage girl standing before him was tall and thin with
long waves of chestnut hair. In the pre-Unplug world, she would have been that
girl every boy was after, but in the world of today, she was another hooded
sweatshirt trying to survive on the streets. Her face was pale, her blue eyes a
bit bloodshot, and she shook visibly as Dugan held her by the arm.

“I’m not going to hurt you, child,” Mikale said, shining his flashlight
on the floor at her feet. Her sneakers were torn and faded. “So far you’ve
followed my instructions magnificently. Keep that up and this will all be over
before you know it.”

A sob worked its way out of the girl’s throat, and Dugan had to catch her
as her legs buckled beneath her.

Mikale made a shushing noise as he walked over to her. He slid a chair
over. The seat was ripped and a putrid shade of green, but he hadn’t decorated
the place. He wouldn’t be in that place if given the choice. It was cramped and
hot and sported an odor he could barely tolerate.

But tolerate it he would. For the cause. To meet his objectives.

“Sit, sweetheart.” He motioned for Dugan to let her go, and the girl’s
body poured itself onto the chair as he turned on a dim overhead light and shut
off his flashlight.

She’d pulled the frayed sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her hands as
they rested on her thighs. A large hole in her tight black pants revealed her
right kneecap. Her skin looked smooth, and Mikale fought the urge to touch her.
Clearly, she was already terrified, and all they’d done was hunt her down,
pluck her from her domicile, and make her tell them what they wanted to know.