She twisted, falling back onto the bed and pulling him down with her so his weight pressed her into the mattress. In this position, he should have been the aggressor, but he had no illusions about who was in charge. She consumed his every touch like she was starved for it and demanded more. It had been a while for him, but it had probably been even longer for her. Locked up in Trident and before that with Kevin—
Julian jerked his mouth from hers, jolted by that libido-dampening thought. Had Kevin…?
“Mirage?”
With deft fingers, she unlaced the drawstring on his pants. “Less talk, more action, Captain.”
“Hang on.” He caught her hands, pinning them beside her ears. He closed his eyes, trying to redirect some blood back to his brain as Mirage rocked to grind against his cock.
He twisted his hips away and she growled. “As much as I enjoy the whole holding-me-down bit, it works better if we’re wearing fewer clothes.”
“Just hold on a sec.”
“Jesus, Justice.” She rolled her eyes. “Guys are supposed to be easier than this. Stop playing so freaking hard to get.” Drawing up her knees, she began trying to shove down his pants with her feet.
Damn. His brain fogged for a moment at the thought of putting that flexibility to good use, but he still had some shreds of honor left. “Did you… Have you…” Shit. How was he supposed to ask if Kevin had manipulated her into sex? Even if the bastard had, did Julian even have a right to know? This wasn’t exactly the time to be dredging up buried memories, but he wasn’t sure he could give her what she needed if this was some kind of sexual therapy.
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re wondering. Haven’t been for years, okay? Judging by the fact that your safe house keeps a stock of condoms in the bedside table, I’m guessing you aren’t either. We’re good to go. So suit up and let’s get going.”
She wasn’t acting like she was traumatized by her sexual past, but what the fuck did he know about how victims acted? “Mirage, I don’t know if I can give you what you need.”
She arched a brow, a wicked smile curving her lips. “I can feel that isn’t true.” She writhed her hips until her core came into searing contact with his hard-on. He shuddered, resting his forehead on top of their linked fingers, which brought him in range of her mouth. She nipped his ear, then flicked the sting away with her tongue. “I want this. You can hear I’m not lying.” The truth of her words had a direct line to his dick, which grew impossibly harder. Her voice was a low, seductive purr, rasping against his senses. “Just sex, Justice. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
That time he heard her lie. Or maybe it was his own self-deception he heard. It wouldn’t be just sex. It would never be just sex with Mirage. This wasn’t just simple chemistry, scratching an itch. But he didn’t call her on the deceit. For once he made himself believe the lie. He wanted her more than he wanted the truth.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mirage felt his capitulation in the subtle relaxation of his shoulders a fraction of a second before his mouth came down on hers. Before, he had accepted her kiss, played along, but now he was in command, demanding every ounce of her soul as he poured himself into each caress.
He was in complete control and damn if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever. Clothing vanished. She was aware of breaking the kiss just long enough for him to yank her nightshirt over her head and canting her hips up so he could slide her panties down, but as far as she was concerned, his pants might as well have disappeared by teleportation. She couldn’t spare a thought for logistics as his mouth went straight for her breasts. He tongued the hard point of her nipple, rolling between his lips and then sucking hard enough that pleasure bowed her back off the bed. One of his hands palmed her mound and then his fingers were slipping wetly through her folds, tweaking her clit with a playful flick before piercing her with a single firm digit. He didn’t need to hold her down anymore. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel her arms and legs. Couldn’t feel anything but him. That hard invasion, working her over, sliding in and out, driving her up fast and sweet, until her body was coiled and tight and ready to go. His thumb rolled against her clit. Her breath caught. Here it comes…
His hand stilled suddenly, thumb pressed against her clit like he was marking his place, holding her immobile when all she needed was a tiny movement to send her flying. His mouth lifted from her breast, his hand retreating from between her legs and Mirage nearly screamed her frustration. Her eyes popped open in time to catch a wicked gleam in his before he bent, positioning his wide chest between her legs. He guided her knees up and over his shoulders, his touch on the backs of her knees too gentle for her dear-god-almost-there-please-now state of mind. She squirmed, her hips twisting, lifting, and he laid a flat palm against her abdomen, pinning her down. She moaned his name—or some unintelligible collection of syllables—but he must have understood what she needed because in the next second his mouth came down on her, his tongue flicked her clit and the sensation knocked her into orbit. She came screaming, her body convulsing as he kept working his tongue against her to push her higher and make the orgasm stretch on and on. Then he slid two fingers inside her, curving them just so until he hit something oh-god-yes-there good and Mirage hit a new level of bliss.
Just as she was cresting, just as that insane, orgasmic high started to recede, she felt him move. Distantly, she heard a condom wrapper tear and then he was hard against her, lifting her like she weighed nothing, and to him she probably didn’t. She felt the carved wood of the headboard at her back then he was sliding high inside her in one smooth, eye-rolling thrust. He gripped the headboard behind her and pulsed into her, just a flex of his hips at first, then harder, longer, gaining tempo and force until the friction twisted something hard inside her and she was coming again, clinging to him, screaming. His jaw locked with the strain of holding back his own release. She moaned, “Julian,” on a jagged gasp and he withdrew suddenly, flipping her so she faced the bed. He plunged into her, arms wrapped around her hips to hold her in place as he pumped into her, mindless and hard, until he spent with a rough shout.
They were both sheened in sweat, sprawled bonelessly together on the bed when Mirage finally came down from her last climax, still shivering with aftershocks. She was on her stomach, Julian on his side, as he traced a lazy path down her spine.
“I didn’t have you pegged for a screamer.” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been shouting across a battlefield all day. Damn if that wasn’t hot.
“I’m not,” she mumbled into the mattress. “At least I didn’t used to be.” She turned her head so she could see his face. Blue eyes, blond hair flopped over his forehead, the jaw of an action hero, he was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. “I think I lied.”
His eyebrows popped up, but other than that, he stayed immobile, screwed into near paralysis. “Hmm?”
“When I said I wasn’t a virgin. Total bullshit. Because if that was sex, I’ve never had that before. Damn…”
Julian snorted, half laughter, half smug male, and wrapped an arm around her waist to drag her against him. Mirage went willingly, draping herself across him, and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Fourteen: The Voicemail of Doom
He was so screwed.
This wasn’t just sex. He’d known that, but he’d done it anyway and now…
Now what? What was their future together? What was his end game? Sure, Mirage was doing better, amazingly better, but she still had flashbacks, nightmares, and moments when the echoes of compulsions overtook her. Julian didn’t know enough about Mind Bender victims to know if that would ever change. He needed to speak to Eisenmann. Why the hell hadn’t the doctor called him back?
Eisenmann had given him the phone. He had to have the number. But what if he’d misplaced it? Could he have been trying to reach them all week? Julian hadn’t turned on his own cell. What if?
He slid out of bed, managing to escape this time without waking Mirage. He tucked a she
et around her bare shoulders and stepped into his pants, after tracking them down where they’d landed halfway behind the dresser. His cell phone was still in the pocket of the jeans he’d worn the first day they’d come here. He padded to the other bedroom, dug it out, plugged in the charger, and fired it up. After it flashed and cycled through the start-up sequence, the voicemail notification pinged and a message popped up on the screen.
14 New Messages. Shit. Hopefully none of them were urgent. The first two were from Kim, following up after the debacle at the bank, touching base to make sure he was all right. There were a few from various men who identified themselves as police, asking him to call back with any information about the whereabouts of one Mirabelle Wroth. Then there was a what-the-fuck-is-going-on message from a friend at the Justice Department and a series of increasingly more demanding messages from the cops, insisting he turn Mirage over to their custody.
But it wasn’t until the eleventh message that the shit hit the fan.
It was Kim again, an edge of panic to her voice now. She’d heard rumors that he was missing. Sources told her he’d last been seen in the company of a known Mind Bender who’d been involved in the Apocalyptum conspiracy a few months ago. She begged him to call her back.
As the message ended and the automated voice rattled off the date and time of the next one, Juilan experienced a tiny frisson of guilt. He’d barely spared Kim a thought. In his head, she’d been gone already. Off in the capital, nailing shady politicians to the wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she would worry. He’d wiped clean the portion of his life where her name was written.
The next message began and he realized what a mistake that had been.
“Julian, it’s me again,” Kim began, sounding more frazzled than he’d ever heard her. “I’m trying not to panic, but my sources in the super task force are saying you’ve been kidnapped and are being held under mind control and there’s nothing they can do about it. I know you probably won’t get this message, but just in case you’re still out there, call me back right now, okay? You’ve saved me more times than I can count and now that it’s my turn to save you, I don’t know what to do.” Her voice cracked and there was a pause as she pulled it together. “You use the weapons you have, right? So I’m going live with the story tomorrow. If I tell the world what this Mind Bender bitch is doing to you, maybe we can get enough public outcry going that Super SWAT will get off their asses and find you. The public loves you, Julian. And I… You know how I feel. Please call. If you can.”
Holy shit. Kim thought he was being held hostage and was going to break the story. Eisenmann had pulled a fucking vanishing act, Darla and Lucien were halfway around the world doing their do-gooder part, and that left no one to speak for Mirage. No one to tell the cops that this was all just a big misunderstanding. They had a hard enough road ahead of them convincing the police that Mirage was harmless without Kim adding pitchforks and tar and feathers to the mix.
He hurriedly dialed her number, praying he was in time to stop the story. The message had been from the night before. Maybe they hadn’t gone to press yet…
She picked up on the first ring. “Justice? Is that you?”
The guilt was back, sharper now at the frantic edge to Kim’s voice. “It’s me. And I’m fine. No one is holding me hostage, Kim. I swear.”
“Oh, thank God. But…”
“What?”
“Well, if you were being manipulated by a Mind Bender, isn’t that exactly what you would say?”
“Don’t run the story, Kim. I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding even remotely apologetic. “It’s too late. It’s already up on the online edition and it’s the front page of tomorrow’s Metro.”
“You can pull it. Print a retraction. Take out a full page ad saying she’s innocent, if you have to.”
“Is she?” Kim asked sharply. “You may not think you’re being held hostage, but she’s done something to you.”
“I’m immune to Mind Benders, Kim. You know that.”
“I thought you were, but what if she’s the exception? Would you even know that your natural defenses had failed?”
Anger spiked at the idea that what he felt for Mirage could be an elaborate illusion—immediately followed by a queasy wash of doubt. He hadn’t exactly been acting like himself lately. What if Kim was on to something?
“Just hear me out,” she urged. “I’ve seen the pictures that were taken the night she broke into First Federal. She looks homicidal, but the way you’re looking at her… it seriously freaked me out, Julian. Even before I began wondering if she was mind-fucking you.”
Julian thought back to that first night. He remembered the feel of her mind pressing hard against his, mercilessly trying to roll him. He’d know she wasn’t herself, but what if he hadn’t been himself either? What if everything since then had been a corruption?
“There are a thousand pictures of you rescuing me,” Kim continued. “And you never once looked at me the way you looked at her that night.”
Because I never felt about you what I feel for her. The thought froze in his brain, paralyzing him.
“You looked at her as if saving her was your whole world, Julian. As if you would die if you failed. That isn’t you. You’re aloof. Independent. Confident.”
Had he never loved Kim? Had she just been a girl to save, neatly filling the damsel in distress role in his life but never getting close to him? Never meaning so much that he couldn’t bear to lose her?
“That kind of rawness… it scared me.”
It would. She’d never wanted more from him. Never wanted real intimacy. Real trust.
“Julian?”
“I’m here.”
“I… God, listen to me. I’m never tongue-tied.” She paused, clearly expecting him to fill the void, but he was still reeling. When he didn’t ease the silence, she went on. “I always thought you were invincible, you know? You were always there and I figured you always would be. I know it sucks, but you were…you were my back-up guy, you know? My fallback position. And that wasn’t fair to you.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I think I made a huge mistake...walking away from you.”
Jesus Christ. She wanted to get back together. Julian glanced guiltily back toward the bedroom where Mirage slept, as if by even hearing Kim say that he’d somehow betrayed her. “Kim…”
“I know I screwed up, but you were always so invincible, invulnerable, and then this girl came along and she could hurt you.”
She could hurt him. Mirage could destroy him in a way Kim never would have been able to, but that was also why he could never walk away from her without a fight. Not like he had from Kim. “You didn’t screw up.”
“I didn’t?” She sounded so hopeful he had to cut her off.
“No. You weren’t right to leave. You were always honest with me and you were grateful. I think we both mistook that for something more than it was. You said yourself our relationship was mostly for show in the last few months. We both deserve more than that. A relationship should be more than just rescues. If you ever find yourself in trouble again, I’ll be there for you. You know that. But it ends there.”
“It goes both ways, Julian. You’re in trouble. This Mind Bender chick—”
“Is none of your business. I’m fine, Kim. Retract the story. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so.”
He said goodbye before she could get started on another round of concerns, hung up and turned off the phone. If nothing else, he’d learned that he and Mirage needed to stay hidden. Darla and Lucien should be back in a few days and then they could worry about getting Mirage cleared so she wouldn’t wind up shipped off to Area Nine again.
A few more days alone with Mirage. Not exactly a hardship. Especially if they spent them as they had the last few hours.
He went back to the other bedroom where she still slept and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. Was Kim
right about her? Was this an illusion? He’d mistaken his own hero complex and friendship for more with Kim. Could he be lying to himself again?
He’d never needed Kim. Being dumped had stung, but he was never heartbroken that she was gone. He’d never really let her in. In a matter of weeks, Mirage knew things about him that he’d never revealed to Kim. But was that love or manipulation?
Jesus. Love. Did he love her? Was that what this was?
On the bed, she stretched like a cat, making a small drowsy noise in her throat as she felt across the bed. Reached for him. His heart lurched. He crossed the room in two strides and slid in beside her. Her searching hand brushed his shoulder and she rolled against his side, a smile curving her lips before she even opened her eyes. “Hey,” she mumbled sleepily.
“Hey.” If this wasn’t love yet, he was falling fast. And if it was an illusion…he wasn’t sure he cared.
Chapter Fifteen: Post Coital Cuddles
“Did you always want to be a hero?”
The afternoon sun slanted through the high window, splashing over them where Julian was sprawled out naked on the bed and Mirage was sprawled out on him. It was a position she’d grown extremely fond of in the last few days as it gave her an up-close-and-personal view of his freakishly exquisite body. With one finger, she idly drew designs over the firm ridges of his underwear model abs. They jumped beneath her touch.
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