Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)

by Shannon McKenna

  “So?” His voice was defensive. “Yes, I’m controlling. And obsessive. I can’t help it, so what the fuck? I knew you were in danger. I know what Mark is. What he could do to you. If you want to have a fight about this, go ahead.”

  He looked like he was bracing himself.

  Caro reached out, and stroked the side of his face with her fingertips. “No,” she said. “I don’t. I can’t believe what you just did for me. After I attacked you. And hurt your eyes. And stole your fucking car.”

  “Oh, yeah. The car,” Noah muttered.

  “It might still be there. I parked it in a tow zone on purpose.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. I’m on the edge as it is.”

  She traced the shape of his cheekbone, feeling the velvety heat of his skin and his harsh beard scruff. His mouth was set in a tense line.

  “Noah,” she said. “I have something to say to you—”

  He exhaled sharply. “Here we go. Here it comes.”

  “No, don’t get nervous,” she soothed. “This is a compliment. You are a world class bullshit artist. If lying were an Olympic event you would win the gold.”

  A wary grin flashed across his face. “Comes from growing up on the streets,” he said. “Thank you. I feel proud. Even though I should be ashamed.”

  “Lying to that guy got us out alive. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  He shrugged. “I was just blowing smoke.”

  “Yes. At gunpoint. Tied up, no less.”

  Noah looked at her sideways. “OK, so I’m really good at it. But what’s your point? Are you worried that I’ll lie to you?”

  “You already have. I’m just thinking out loud.”

  Noah groaned under his breath. “Go ahead. Beat me up.”

  “No. Just saying that you’re a different person when you lie. You project a different frequency.”

  He frowned. “Sounds like I’m ready for the psych ward.”

  “Not at all. And trust me, I’d know.”

  “You would, huh?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I wouldn’t recognize the man talking to me.”

  Noah braked suddenly, turning onto a narrow, half-hidden road overgrown by stubby evergreens that scraped against the sides of the car. Noah killed the engine.

  They sat in silence. Noah looked away from her. It looked as if he were struggling to breathe.

  Was that why he stopped? Caro undid her seatbelt and leaned towards him, trying gently to turn his face back toward her. He resisted, so she just kissed his cheekbone, his hair. Tasted salt, grit. Blood.

  “Don’t do that,” he said harshly.

  “It won’t kill you, Noah.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” He turned toward her, spread open her coat and pressed his face against her naked breasts. His breath was a hot caress against her bare skin. “Maybe not yet.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her nose in his sweat-stiffened hair.

  “I want you,” he said.

  They kissed, madly, passionately. No more talk. Just gasps, sighs.

  He tasted like life itself. Heat and salt, fire and blood. She was starving for him. His hand cupped her tangled hair, and she clung to him, trying to get closer. Frantic need yawned, a fiery chasm that could swallow them. She caressed the hard contours of his body until she found the unyielding bulge of his cock, trapped in his jeans.

  He growled low in his throat, and pushed her suddenly away. On her knees, half naked, nipples tight in the chilly dawn. They panted, wildly aroused by the strange energy flaring between them.

  “We need to cool it.” His voice was uneven.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “No. Mark is on his way, and he wants to eat your brain. I shouldn’t have pulled off the road.”

  She nodded, resigned, and put the seatbelt on.

  Caro watched the landscape slide by, amazed at how calm she felt. All the horrible things she’d just seen were burned into her visual memory but for some reason they stayed under control, not taking over her visual field in hallucinations as they so often did when she was violently stressed.

  Noah Gallagher, in all his glory, charging in to rescue her . . . that was an image more compelling than terror, blood and death.

  The thought steadied her. She hung on to it.

  * * *

  Caro awoke from a restless half-sleep as the car slowed down and stopped.

  They were parked outside a modern mansion on a wooded hillside. Simple but luxurious, with walls of glass on all sides, big decks and patios, and a long, winding driveway. One other car was parked there. A black van. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “One of our safe houses,” Noah said.

  It resembled his own place. Which made sense, she supposed.

  Sisko and Zade sauntered out the front door just as she got out of the car. Looking worried, they both gave her and Noah a thorough onceover.

  OK. She’d had better days, been better dressed. She pulled the shabby coat tighter, and held her head up as high as she could. Screw them both.

  “Jesus, man. You look like shit,” Zade said to Noah. “Especially your eyes. What happened out there?”

  “Long story,” Noah said wearily. “Not now.”

  He took her hand and led her inside. “Make yourself at home,” he said.

  The inside of this house was beautiful. Understated, oversized furniture that looked custom-made was highlighted by austere lamps that cast a rich glow over equally rich fabrics in soothing earth tones. Decorator coordinated, to be sure. Exactly what she would expect to see in a Noah Gallagher crash pad.

  She heard Sisko and Zade come in as she wandered around the place, enjoying the silky smooth texture of the wide plank flooring under her bare dirty feet, the tastefully arranged furniture, the big, airy kitchen with top of the line appliances. Huge plate glass windows offered beautiful views of the surrounding greenery on all sides.

  “I’m taking her up to the master bedroom to settle in,” Noah said to his men, who stood there looking awkward. “Zade, get that shit-eating grin off your face and call Hannah. Tell her Caro needs stuff. Clothes, whatever else she doesn’t have right now. And tell her to arrange for some food. Something really good, and a whole lot of it. We’re going to lie low for a while.”

  “Excuse me?” Caro said. “You’re ordering what?”

  “Clothes,” Noah repeated, as if the answer was obvious, gesturing toward her bloodstained jeans and coat.

  “Hannah’s going to enjoy that,” Zade observed. “Unlimited shopping, with your credit card? A dream come true. Watch out.”

  “For once in her life, her shopping mania will be good for something.” He looked at Sisko and Zade. “Sorry you guys didn’t get to see any action today, but things should get interesting soon. When Mark gets to town.”

  “Ah, yeah. About that,” Zade said pointedly. “Can we talk?”

  “Later,” Noah said. “Soon. Let me get her settled. Then we’ll talk.” He glanced at Sisko. “Keep monitoring the surveillance video feeds while I’m upstairs.”

  “Love to.” Sisko rolled his eyes. “Thanks, boss.”

  “About time you took a turn,” Zade observed. “I’m always on call.”

  Caro left them to their bickering and headed up the stairs. Noah ran up behind her and swept her into his arms again, carrying her into the big master bedroom.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He shrugged off his jacket, and disappeared into the bathroom. Soon she heard the roar of water jets filling a capacious tub. Scented steam floated out the door. Lavender, honeysuckle, a hint of manly mint? Nice, whatever it was.

  She smiled at him when he emerged from the bathroom. “Mmmm. Smells good. OK, you can take care of me.”

  He unbuttoned her coat, tossing it away and smoothing his hands slowly down over her bare shoulders as he looked her body over, before pulling her gently into the bathroom. He pulled swabs, gauze and ointment out of the medicine cabinet.

&n
bsp; “Let’s see those cuts,” he said. “Lift your chin.”

  He examined the nicks at the base of her throat, washing and disinfecting them, treating every little wound with his usual focused intensity. He smoothed adhesive bandages over them, and pressed a slow, searching kiss against the nape of her neck.

  Her nipples tightened. But she had to return the favor. “Now you.”

  He sighed. “If you must.”

  “Sweatshirt off, Mr. Gallagher.”

  He tried. “Can’t roll up the sleeve. It’s stuck to my arm. You do it.”

  Slowly and carefully, she peeled the ripped, bloodstained sleeve up and away from his forearm. The gash underneath looked messy and painful, but Noah was stoic, pulling the sweatshirt all the way off as soon as she was done. No longer bleeding at all. Just as he’d said.

  Avoiding the still raw but rapidly healing tissue, she rinsed the dried blood off with careful pats of a wrung-out washcloth, and saw to his scabbed knuckles as well. She smoothed antibiotic ointment over both wounds and bandaged them.

  “This is terrible,” she fussed. “I’d bet anything you need stitches. And a tetanus booster, and serious antibiotics.”

  “No need,” he said calmly. “It won’t get infected, and it’ll heal very fast.”

  “But it’ll leave a scar!”

  He let out a short laugh and glanced down at his heavily scarred torso. “Oh, no. Anything but that.”

  “You should see a doctor,” she snapped.

  “Look who’s talking.”

  Before she could reply, he pulled her closer, cupping the back of her head. His masterful kiss changed almost instantly into something lingering, pleading. His tenderness melted her.

  When their lips parted, she looked away, and sniffed back tears. “Don’t kiss me just to shut me up,” she said, her voice wobbling. “That’s unfair.”

  He shrugged and bent down to turn off the thundering jets. There were still surging bubbles below the surface of the water. She wanted to sink into it almost as much as she wanted him to kiss her again.

  “Your bath is ready. But before you get in, I have something for you,” he said.

  Apprehension gripped her. “What’s that?”

  He pulled the flash drive from Luke Ryan’s lake house out of his pocket and held it out to her. “We didn’t really flush it,” he said. “I’m sorry I jerked you around.”

  She just stared at him, open-mouthed.

  “I copied it, of course, so that we can analyze every second of it,” he said. “This one’s yours. But as a favor to me, don’t take it to the police yet. Let me see if I can resolve this somehow, without exposing us all. Please.”

  She couldn’t even trust herself to speak. She didn’t know what to think.

  Noah went on, his voice gruff and uncertain. “But, ah. It’s your call. Like you said, you found it, and you paid for it. And if you need to use it . . . well. Whatever.”

  She curled his fingers back down over the flash drive and pushed his hand away.

  “Thanks, Noah,” she said. “Keep it safe for me.”

  “OK. Thanks.” He put it back into his pocket, and kissed her forehead.

  It felt like the seal on a truce.

  He started in on the buttons of her jeans. When they lay in a crumpled pile with her underwear and the remnants of her slashed open T-shirts, he helped her into the tub. In a startling rush, she became aware of her body again. Her nakedness. The hot amber flash of his eyes made her heart speed and brought a burning flush to her face, a tingle to her nipples and between her legs. His eyes dragged over her, lingering.

  Instant energy pulsed through her. A deep inner heat. It made her head rise and her back straighten and her shoulders go back. Boobs proudly out. On display. Take that. Nipples tightening eagerly, as if his ravenous gaze were a skillful, caressing touch.

  There was an impressive bulge in his pants. She wondered if it had been there all along, or if she’d just woken up to it now.

  “Coming in?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer, but images flashed through her mind, just as she knew they were flashing through his. The caressing lap of warm water over flushed, gleaming skin, and sloshing against the tub as she wrapped herself around him, straddling him, kissing him. All the while penetrated and tenderly rocked by the slick, rhythmic thrusts of his cock inside her. This tub wasn’t as big as the one at the lake house, but more than big enough for anything they could dream up.

  His mouth tightened. “Not a good idea.”

  She could have screamed in frustration. “Please?” she urged. “Isn’t Sisko downstairs, keeping watch?”

  “Yes. But I’m too jacked up to relax. I want to patrol the perimeter with an AK-47 right now.”

  She sank down into the water very slowly, eyes locked with his. The heat of the water embraced her skin, inch by slow, taunting inch. Her hair touched the water and spread out on the surface like a lily pad before sinking down. She dipped down to her neck, and then rose up again, letting her gleaming breasts bob right at the surface. “I want to be with you,” she said. “I want to feel you. Inside me. Right now.”

  He let out a low, rasping groan. “Oh, fuck, Caro. Not fair.”

  “Nope,” she said. “Suffer if you want to. Or . . . not. You decide.”

  Noah let out a shuddering sigh and kneeled behind her. He leaned over the tub, smoothing the wet hair off her shoulders, and sudsed up his hands with scented cleansing gel, slowly massaging it over her shoulders and chest. Drifts of scented foam floated out onto the bathwater. “Lean back,” he said. “Let me wash your hair.”

  That was such a delicious sensation, she could almost reconcile herself to the forced waiting. She floated in the hot water with his strong fingers massaging her scalp. Gazing up at his gorgeous face, fiercely intent upon the task of washing her hair.

  She made sure her breasts were bobbing right at the surface. Pink-tipped, gleaming-wet islands in the foam. For his viewing pleasure. Sweet torture.

  He took the torture stoically, kept his focus, refusing to yield. When it was time to get out, she rose slowly. Dripping. Succulent. Alluring. He remained in full control of himself, though he did seem to have silently decided that playing the part of the mouthwatering sex god bath attendant was a reasonable compromise. He was naked to the waist, which could only have been improved by him being stark naked.

  But naked to the waist was already a hyperstimulation to all her senses. He was so big and powerful, with that wild predator glow in his eyes, looming over her protectively with the towel. Squeezing water out of her hair, turning her, swabbing off the drops of water beading her skin with long, slow, caressing strokes and pats. Making sure there was no spot left untouched.

  Then he positioned her naked in front of the bathroom mirror and just stood there behind her for a moment, their eyes locked in the foggy reflection. She wasn’t sure if it was him, moving forward, or herself leaning back, but soon they were touching. His hand clasping her, stroking her belly. Creeping up . . . and then stopping.

  He grabbed the towel. Wrapped it around her. So damn close. Stubborn hard ass.

  “Let me comb your hair,” he said gruffly.

  Fine. She watched Noah’s blurry reflection as he slowly and patiently worked a comb through her hair, never once making her flinch.

  He took his own sweet time. When he was done, her hair was almost dry, and so was the mirror. It reflected them with crystalline clarity, but all she could look at was his hungry eyes. She craved that bright, luminous amber glow. It meant joy, pleasure, power. It connected her with all the strength she had left.

  Noah put down the comb, and ran his hands gently over her shoulders. The towel had come loose, so he tossed it away.

  “Should I get dressed?” she asked. “Do you have a robe?”

  He sank his fingers into her hair and separated the strands, draping them. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to wear it. You’re more beautiful like this. You’re a goddess.”

 
; On impulse, she trapped his hands, and pressed them against her breasts.

  Noah went rigid. As if he was afraid to breathe.

  She couldn’t breathe, either. But he hadn’t pulled his hands away. They were so big and warm. Her skin tingled madly at the contact. Heat bloomed in her chest, sweeping up until her face was poppy red. His fingers curled, stroked in tender circles.

  His face was a taut mask, but the hot glow of his eyes betrayed him. “Caro,” he murmured. “Don’t push me.”

  “I want you,” she said. “I want to look into your eyes, while we make love. It feels incredible.”

  He looked wary. “What do my eyes have to do with anything?”

  “That thing your eyes do, when your AVP is working,” she said. “The way light gets caught in them, and flashes out. I just love that.”

  “Oh.” He opened his fingers slightly and trapped her nipples, tugging.

  “It makes me all hot and bothered,” she whispered.

  He seemed puzzled. “That’s the first time anyone ever . . . oh, never mind.”

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  “Just the idea that someone could actually want to look into my eyes . . . it’s strange.”

  “Not strange,” she told him. “Beautiful.” She covered her hands with her own, arching her back to heighten the sensual pressure and rubbing her ass against the thick, hot bulge in his pants.

  Noah dragged in a harsh breath, his fingers flexing, stroking her. “Just tell me what you want.” His voice was rough.

  “You,” she said. “Now.”

  “Jesus, Caro,” he muttered. “You know just how to yank my chain.”

  Oh, yes. She exulted silently, took one of his hands, kissed it, and moved it down to her belly. Then lower.

  His fingers tangled eagerly in the puff of damp ringlets, teasing and petting and parting her. He groaned when he found her already slick and hot. Ready.

  “Those eyes,” she murmured. “Told you.”

  She arched her back with a soft moan as he pressed his lips to her shoulder, her neck, kissing, licking. His hand slid, stroking and delving into her slick channel.

  She squeezed his hand between her thighs, like she wanted to trap him there, as he slowly, expertly teased her closer to an erotic edge . . .