Dark Operative_A Glimmer of Hope

by I. T. Lucas

  The feel of his muscular thighs against the backs of her own was not a surprise, but it provided a thrill nonetheless. She loved the way their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

  Palming his heavy length, he pushed it between her folds. Rubbing it back and forth and coating it with her moisture, he seemed in no hurry to feed it into her.

  She wiggled her butt in invitation, which earned her a stinging smack on the fleshy part of her right buttock. “Hey! What was that for?”

  “As a paying customer, it’s my call what I want to do next. Stop trying to hurry things along.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m impatient.” She wiggled again, intentionally inviting another smack.

  Turner delivered, then leaned over her back, covering her with his warm torso. “Do you need more spanking, naughty girl?”

  It seemed her stoic lover was getting into the role acting. Calling her a naughty girl, or any kind of girl, was definitely new.

  Bridget loved it.

  Unlike most men, Turner wasn't intimidated by her. He had no problem with her smarts and her medical diploma and her assertive nature. In fact, he loved those things about her. Well, love was too strong of a word when pertaining to Turner, but she knew he appreciated her and most importantly didn’t feel threatened by her.

  “No,” she said, wiggling her butt again.

  Two quick smacks followed, not as strong as the first ones, but they stung nonetheless.

  “Are you going to keep swiveling those hips of yours like that, or are you going to behave?” He delivered two more.

  The giggle was impossible to stifle. “I can’t help it.”

  “Tsk, tsk. You definitely need more training, my girl.” He smoothed his palms over her heated behind. “Being a receptionist is a waste of your natural gifts. This ass is too perfect to be stuck in a chair all day, and those plump lips of yours are made for kisses and not for answering phone calls.”

  “Are you offering to train me?”

  “Yes.” He chuckled.

  They both knew she was the more experienced and could teach him a thing or two. But the switch around was fun. Bridget couldn’t remember ever being so playful with a guy. Even with Andrew, she’d been somewhat reserved, not sexually, but as far as letting her inner girl out.

  It was boring to be the responsible adult at all times. On a gut level, Bridget knew that with Turner she could be whomever she wanted to be at that moment and he would accept each and every facet of her.

  It was liberating, and it was intimate in the extreme.

  “Then teach me, master. I’m an eager pupil.” She shook her ass again, barely managing to stifle a laugh.

  Turner groaned, his strong thighs leaving hers exposed to the cool air as he dipped down and licked her from behind.

  Sneaky operative. He’d taken her by surprise.

  She had been expecting his hard length to spear into her, not his tongue, but she could wait a few more minutes. Perhaps he could treat her to a climax once or twice before moving on to the main event.

  “I like that.” She moaned, her hips moving even though she wanted to stay still.

  Clamping his hands on her ass cheeks, Victor didn’t answer. Instead, he proceeded to demonstrate that he could teach her a thing or two as well.

  The man had a very agile tongue and knew how to use it on a woman.

  For a moment, a surge of jealousy washed over her. Who had he practiced on? Was it common for paying customers to treat call girls to cunnilingus?

  Not likely.

  Then who had been on the receiving end of his tongue’s attentions?

  Her sudden flare of unease hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “What’s the matter? Am I doing something wrong?”

  “You’re doing everything too right.”

  “Huh?”

  She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Who did you practice on?”

  Victor shook his head. “Really? That’s what you want to ask me right now?”

  “Yes.”

  He turned his eyes up to the ceiling. “I will never understand women.” He looked back down. “I learned from watching porn on the Internet. I wanted to know how to do it right. Then I practiced on several of my paid companions. Satisfied?”

  Damn, she was such an idiot. Turner looked embarrassed by the admission she’d forced out of him. Why was she behaving like that? Why did she doubt his story about lack of female companionship other than the paid kind?

  Because it was hard to believe that a gem like Victor hadn't been discovered by her human competition. It just didn’t make sense, but on the other hand, neither did him making this stuff up.

  “I’m sorry, did I spoil the mood?”

  He grunted but said nothing.

  Yeah, she definitely did.

  Turning around, Bridget faced Victor and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t believe your story, you have no reason to lie to me. I get those uncontrollable, irrational surges of jealousy because I can’t believe you weren’t snatched up by some other woman already. You have so much to offer.”

  With a sigh, he rested his forehead on hers. “I know what you mean. I get those too. The irrational jealousy drives me nuts. That’s not who I am.”

  “Me neither. Why do you think this is happening to us?”

  Bridget had a good idea what it was, but to say that to Turner would freak him out.

  “I guess it’s because we’ve come to mean a lot to each other. It’s a form of possessiveness.”

  Close enough.

  “Let me make it up to you.” She gave him a gentle shove, pushing him down to his haunches.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Chapter 26: Turner

  Bridget still didn’t believe him, which was insulting and flattering at the same time. Did she really think of him as such a great catch that she couldn't understand why he had no prior relationships?

  That was a first.

  But then Bridget was unlike any woman Turner had ever encountered, and not only because she was an immortal.

  They clicked, for lack of a better term.

  Somehow, their odd personalities aligned, or rather his odd one found Bridget’s no-nonsense attitude and quick brain refreshing and incredibly alluring. Their interests overlapped, and their sexual chemistry was off the charts.

  If he were a believing man, Turner would have thought fate had something to do with it. But his fascination with aliens notwithstanding, he was too rational to believe in the supernatural.

  Besides, why would fate favor him? He wasn’t a good man. He wasn’t bad either, but his good deeds hadn’t been altruistic. During his service, Turner had rescued people because that was what he’d been trained to do and what he excelled at. In the private sector, he did it for profit.

  A saint he was not. Not even close. Not even good enough to stand in the shadow of one.

  Except, a small voice in the back of his head whispered that some very good things were often done by very flawed people, while very bad things were often the result of the best of intentions.

  The saintly variety didn’t hold a monopoly on good deeds.

  Kneeling over him, Bridget pushed on his chest until he was flat on his back. “You’ll soon find out.” She ran a hand over his pectorals, following the ridges and valleys with her eyes. “You have a magnificent body. I could spend days looking at you and touching you.”

  He smiled. “Do you want me to walk around naked when we are alone?”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Only if you’re naked with me.”

  She chuckled. “Now you know why people wear clothes inside their homes. It’s not because of the neighbors getting an eyeful through the windows. It’s because not much would get done otherwise.”

  Reaching for her, he pulled her on top of him. “We would be like the bonobo chimps. No work and all play.”

  “Lucky chimps.”

  “I
think they discovered the secret of life.”

  She arched a brow. “Sex all day long?”

  “Exactly. Food is plentiful, they don’t have any natural enemies where they live, and they resolve all conflicts with sex.”

  She flicked his nose. “That’s because their society is run by the females. They don’t let the males get aggressive.”

  He closed his eyes. “I can live with that.”

  “Could you, really? What about your curious mind and your need to solve mysteries? You would be bored in two days max.”

  Obviously, they were no longer playing the game, but Turner preferred to make sure. “Just so we are on the same page, you’re Bridget now, right?”

  Snapping her fingers, she laughed. “Here, I made Gena disappear.”

  Turner made a face. “What a pity. I was hoping for a ménage à trois. Two redheads are better than one.”

  That earned him a playful slap. “Watch it, mister. Redheads are known for their hot temper. To rile up an immortal redhead is not smart.”

  Right. Bridget had a good sense of humor, but it didn’t extend to jokes about other women. If he wanted this night to end with a couple of climaxes, for her, he’d better think twice before mentioning anything of the kind.

  “I’ve been forewarned.” He lifted his palms in surrender. “I’m still waiting for you to make good on your promise.”

  With a grin, Bridget pushed back to sit on her shins. “That’s right.” She palmed his erection that had since recovered from its temporary deflation but not all the way to its former glory.

  That was quickly corrected as Bridget leaned forward and put her luscious lips on the crown. In seconds, her hand and her lips and her tongue had him panting for release.

  “Please.” He put his hand on her cheek. “I don’t want to come like this.”

  Unlike Bridget, who could climax numerous times and usually did, Turner wasn’t sure he could rise to the task more than once. Especially after the long day he’d had.

  He might have been in excellent shape, but he wasn’t a young man anymore. At forty-six, he would be lucky to climax more than once in one session.

  Bridget let go and climbed on top of him. “I’ll humor you this time. But just this once.” She kissed him, her tongue parting his lips and swiping lazily against his own.

  He could have her mount him like this, but he had something different in mind. Her previous pose, on all fours with him behind her, was etched into his brain.

  Lifting her by the hips, he moved her over and got behind her. “A million dollar view.”

  She chuckled, then moaned as he surged inside her, not all the way in, but almost. Bridget pushed back, impaling herself to the hilt.

  “Yes,” she groaned. “That’s it.”

  If his lady didn’t like going slow and didn’t believe in taking it easy, who was he to argue?

  Gripping Bridget by the hips, Victor pumped into her, increasing the force and tempo of his thrusts while letting the sounds of passion she was making guide him. Even with the bruising grip he had on her, Bridget was bucking into him, spurring him to go faster, deeper. When he felt he was nearing his peak, Turner leaned over her and reached around their bodies to massage the most sensitive part of a female’s anatomy.

  They climaxed together, her sheath spasming around his shaft and squeezing every last drop from it. He kept massaging that sensitive nub, prolonging her climax until Bridget collapsed under him.

  His hands still on her hips, he pulled her with him to lie on their sides. Kissing the soft skin where her neck met her shoulder, he smoothed his hand over her curves, admiring the way her narrow waist flared into her generous behind.

  His Bridget had the body of a goddess.

  His red-haired Venus.

  Was the original Venus a redhead? He remembered Bridget mentioning the goddess’s tresses were red. Was the legend of Venus based on Annani?

  He almost made the mistake of asking before reminding himself that it was a bad idea to mention another female while he was still buried deep inside this one. Bad etiquette in any circumstances, and especially where Bridget was concerned.

  The doctor had a quick temper and a long jealous streak.

  Turner grinned. Who would have thought a woman would ever get jealous over him? He had to admit that it felt good.

  “Did you fall asleep?” Bridget asked in a sleepy voice.

  “No.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “That I’m a lucky bastard who scored the hottest, most passionate woman there is.”

  She turned her head around, a satisfied smile on her glowing face. “I hope you don’t plan on verifying that statement by sampling others.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I like your jealousy. But just so you know, you risk inflating my male ego to dangerous proportions.”

  “As long as I’m the only one doing so, I’m okay with that.”

  “You are? Wait until I start strutting around like a peacock.”

  “Pfft.” She waved a tired hand. “Join the club. The keep is full of peacocks.”

  I wish I could, Victor thought as he drifted off to sleep. Joining the clan as one of them was an impossible dream he hoped against all hope would come true.

  Chapter 27: Syssi

  “I feel so relaxed,” Syssi said, leaning against Kian’s shoulder.

  The private jet had just finished its climb, the island of Hawaii shrinking in the distance.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Kian didn’t even lift his eyes from the laptop.

  Syssi sighed. She’d managed to drag him out to the beach a couple of times, and the memory of smearing sunscreen all over his muscular body brought a smile to her face.

  Her guy had walked onto the sand fully dressed, with a long-sleeved shirt, long pants, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and his special sunglasses, looking like an old man, but one who was in excellent shape. He’d argued when she’d suggested he take at least his shirt off, but in the end, she’d peeled him out of his clothes and protected his sensitive skin with the highest SPF sunblock available. It had worked for the most part, but his ears had gotten sunburned despite her best efforts. It was good he healed so fast. Otherwise, she would not have heard the end of it.

  Turner hadn’t fared much better, looking like a boiled shrimp after less than an hour in the sun. Unfortunately, his human body couldn’t fix the sunburn as fast as Kian’s had. The guy had started out so white he could’ve competed with Annani for luminescence.

  “There is something special in the Hawaiian air. The breeze, the smells, the sounds of the ocean, it’s all so soothing,” Callie said.

  “We should do it again,” Bridget said.

  Syssi glanced at Anandur, who was peering out the window even though the island was no longer visible. He seemed unusually forlorn.

  “How about you, Anandur? Did you have a good time?” she asked.

  Still looking out the window, he shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Watching all of you lovebirds was so much fun.” His tone was sarcastic.

  So that was his problem. As the only one without a partner, Anandur must’ve felt left out. Except, he hadn’t seemed to mind before. What had changed?

  “No luck at the clubs?” she asked. He’d gone out one night on his own but returned after less than an hour.

  He shook his head. “Full of pimply teenagers.”

  “They had to be older to get in,” Turner said. “Unless there was no alcohol served.”

  “Not my kind of crowd.” Anandur shook his head again. “I’m getting too old for that.”

  He could say that again. The guy was over a thousand years old, although looking at him and hearing him talk no one would suspect he was older than thirty.

  Syssi still remembered how jaded Kian had been when they’d met. He’d been sick and tired of the same old revolving door as well.

  “I’m sure there is someone out there for you,” she
said.

  He turned back to the window. “I hope so.”

  Poor Anandur. He was such a nice guy. Funny, charming, romantic. He would make some girl very happy.

  Should she attempt to induce a vision for him?

  Syssi hadn’t tried that for months. Her visions had been so disturbing that she’d decided not to do anything to encourage them, and thankfully she’d been vision-free since she’d made up her mind to avoid them.

  Except, not all of her visions were terrible. She’d foreseen Andrew having a daughter, and she had known Eva and Bhathian were having their boy. In the vision, she hadn’t seen who the boy belonged to and had hoped he was Kian’s and hers. The disappointment upon discovering Eva’s pregnancy had been devastating and one of the reasons she made a conscious effort to block any future foretelling.

  She was a coward. Hiding from her visions to spare herself grief while she could be providing valuable information to the clan.

  Perhaps it was time to lift the barrier she’d erected in her mind and let the visions come.

  “Are you okay?” Kian asked.

  Damn. It was impossible to hide her thoughts when her husband could smell them on her. It was good the other immortals weren’t as good at discerning scents. Except for Brundar, but he was too busy snuggling with Callie to pay attention.

  “I was thinking about my visions.”

  Kian frowned. “You haven’t had any in a long while. Are you scared of them coming back?”

  “I learned how to block them. But I feel it’s selfish to do so. I should open up my mind and learn how to deal with the visions instead of hiding from them.”

  Kian closed his laptop and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t want you to do anything that upsets you.”

  Sweet Kian, always protective and thinking of her wellbeing first.

  “I was given this gift for a reason. It’s wrong for me to avoid my visions just because they disturb me. I need to toughen up and let them come.”

  He shook his head. “If the visions provided useful information, I might have agreed, but they don’t. They are too vague. All they do is make you anxious.”