Tainted Hearts

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Just stay close enough to the truth so you won’t have to worry about getting caught in a lie.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Exactly.” He smiled. “All you’re giving him is the opportunity to change your mind. You explain why you’re uncertain and let him do the rest.”

  “Will you come with me?”

  He stood and skirted the coffee table. She looked so forlorn, so frightened. He scooped her up in his arms and sat in the chair with her on his lap. She gasped, then smiled, her arms wrapped securely around his neck.

  “If Job is interested in recruiting you, then you can bet you’re being watched. It’s safe to assume we’ve already been seen together, so we just need to be ready for the inevitable questions. Who am I? How did we meet? What is our relationship? How do I feel about PURE?”

  “Is it possible that he’ll know you kidnapped me?”

  He lifted her legs and draped them over the arm of the chair. Her pupils dilated and he smiled. This position had definite possibilities. “The only way he could is if one of Bettencourt’s men works for PURE. That’s unlikely. If he knows, then you’ll claim I ruthlessly seduced you and we’ve had a sort of love/hate thing going on ever since.”

  She chuckled. “I think I can sell that.”

  “And if not?” He found himself distracted by her lips, desperately wanting the conversation finished.

  “If not, you’re the father of one of the patients I was considering for the SP-65. I turned to you after the ordeal because I’m afraid to be alone, and we became lovers.”

  “I think I can sell that.” With each word he inched closer. Her lips parted sweetly as his mouth settled over hers, but he kissed her gently, then pulled away. “I have to understand, Tuesday. To make this good for you, I have to know what he did to you.”

  He felt her stiffen, try to pull away. Shifting her into the crook of his arm, he rested her back against the arm of the chair and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she insisted. As if an energy barrier had dropped between them, he suddenly sensed nothing from her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay, can you deal with yes or no?”

  She glared at him, a twinge of annoyance flaring through her control. “Yes.”

  “Did he ever force you to have sex with him?” Her struggles increased, so he rushed on. “I’ll take that to mean, yes. Did you—”

  “It’s not that simple. It’s not like he held me down and raped me, but he…bullied me. He made me feel insignificant and ugly. He was a gorgeous, powerful god and I was damn lucky he wasted his time with me. He used me, demanded things from me without ever thinking I might want a little tenderness in return.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He tried to kiss her but she turned her face away. “I only have one other question.”

  “No. I never had an orgasm with him. Not even once, the bastard!”

  He bit back a laugh. “That’s good to know, but I was going to ask if he was still alive because I’d really like to kick the shit out of him.”

  Mortified, Tuesday covered her face with her hands. She was such an idiot. Would she never get beyond this incredibly awkward stage and be able to enjoy the intimacies couples shared every day? Was she such a freak that she…

  Her self-recriminations trailed away as he gently tugged her hands away from her face. “You’ve had orgasms with me already, so we’re in a different league than the bastard.”

  His cocky smile melted the last of her inhibitions. To hell with Leo! Marc was here, holding her, comforting her, wanting her. She felt desirable with his gaze moving over her face—she felt pretty.

  “You’re not in a different league than Leo. You’re from a different planet.” Framing his face with her hands, she appreciated the perfection of his features for a moment before she moved in and kissed him.

  He remained relaxed and passive for a time, allowing her to play. She traced the fullness of his lower lip with her tongue and smiled when she heard his throaty groan. His hand sneaked under her blouse and beneath the built-in bra, cupping her breast.

  Arching into his touch, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him deeply. His mouth moved against hers, his tongue thrust and chased. Beneath her bottom she could feel the hardened ridge of his cock, straining against his jeans. An echoing pulse throbbed deep in her feminine core.

  “Take this off, now,” he rasped out.

  His hand moved to her face, while she fumbled with the hidden fastenings at the side of the blouse. He continued to kiss her until she pulled the top off over her head. The movement loosened the last precarious anchor in her hair and the curling mass spilled onto her naked shoulders.

  He stared at her, mutely shaking his head. “You are so beautiful,” he said after a long pause. “Your skin is perfect. Your breasts are perfect. You are perfect.”

  She grinned. With his heated gaze searing her skin, she felt perfect. She stretched like a lazy cat, enjoying his muffled groan and the way he fidgeted beneath her. He caught her upper arms and pulled her upward, his mouth fastening onto one breast. The forceful suction made her gasp and launched tingling darts of sensation deep into her belly. Her entire abdomen quivered.

  Relaxing against the chair’s arm, she threaded her fingers through his hair, while he stroked her breasts with his fingers, mouth and tongue. He took his time, exploring not just her nipple, but the entire mound.

  “Shouldn’t we go to the bedroom?” she whispered, restless and anxious to see what else Marc had in store.

  “Not yet.” He carefully worked her nipples into hard little knots. “Stand up and take off your panties.”

  She swung her legs to the floor, smiling when they wobbled beneath her. Reaching under her skirt, she slipped off her panties and turned to face him. He’d taken off his shirt, but still wore his jeans.

  “Now it’s up to you,” he said. “Take it off or leave it on, but I’m going to touch you, like I did before.”

  Confusion creased her brow as she looked at the obvious bulge in his jeans. “That’s not all you’re going to do, is it?”

  He held out his hand and smiled. “We’ll take care of me soon enough, but you’ve got some catching up to do.”

  Blushing to the roots of her hair, Tuesday took his hand. “I said I never had an orgasm with Leo, that doesn’t mean… There are other ways… Oh, for God’s sake, just kiss me.”

  He eagerly obliged. As his mouth claimed hers, he guided her onto his lap. Her knees tucked neatly into the corners of the chair and her butt rested on his thighs. Pressing her breasts to his bare chest, his hands ran the length of her back, then dipped beneath her skirt to stroke her hips.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head, losing herself completely in the intimacy of their kisses. His long fingers skimmed her inner thigh, making her squirm.

  “Let me,” he whispered.

  Relaxing her legs, she allowed his hand between.

  “That’s right. You’re so soft.” His mouth migrated along her throat, across her shoulder and onto the upper swell of her breast. “Rise up a bit, so I can reach you.”

  She thought he meant her nipples, but when she rocked up onto her knees, his fingers gently parted her delicate folds and circled her entrance. Her core tingled. The throb became a rhythmic pulse, demanding penetration.

  “Oh, Marc,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can wait. I want you inside me now.”

  He nipped her and chuckled deep in his chest. “We’ll explore exactly how much your body can take another day, but for now, you are going to come for me or I’m not going to make love to you.”

  Holding tightly to the arms of the chair, she arched her back and closed her eyes. His mouth drew firmly on her breast, while his fingers stroked over, around and against her, but not into her, never into her. She trembled. She needed him there, inside her, but he wouldn’t fill her until she surrendered to this. His fingertip circled
her clit and she gasped. “Yes! There. Please, there.”

  He kept sliding forward and back against, but not into her as his thumb took up the gentle circular motion. She arched and moaned. Tension built. He closed his teeth around her nipple and sent her over the edge. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of the chair, while her body shook with wave after wave of blessed release.

  She collapsed against his chest, panting harshly.

  “Now was that so hard?” he whispered into her hair.

  Her hand eased between their bodies and she laughed. “Still feels pretty hard to me.”

  “Ready to do something about it?”

  Pushing away from his chest, she smiled into his eyes. “I never thought you’d ask.”

  He laughed, empowered by her enthusiasm. “Do you want our first time in bed or are you feeling adventurous?”

  She licked her lips and his cock jerked against his jeans. Damn, he’d love to explore that thought, but not tonight.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Lift up again, so I can make a small adjustment,” he coaxed.

  She raised her weight off his lap and he quickly unfastened his jeans, shoving them down past his knees. He’d done it all under her skirt, so she had yet to see his cock, which was probably a good thing. She was still incredibly tight. Unless it had been years since “the bastard”, he was betting Leo had been using cruelty to compensate for substandard equipment.

  He let her relax against him, the heat of her sex settled directly over his aching erection. Distracting her with gentle kisses, he eased himself into position and then stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Nothing. This just feels so good. I don’t want it to end and I know as soon as I get inside you, I’m not going to last very long.”

  “Then, we’ll take a shower, sleep for a while and do it all again.”

  He groaned, his head resting against the chair’s high back. He shifted his hips, sinking into her. She gasped and shuddered. “Did I hurt you?”

  “You’re… I feel really… Are you—enhanced?”

  Holding her steady with one hand, he gently stroked her with the other. She was ready for him; she just needed to relax and let her body stretch. Lightly circling her clit, he waited for her inner muscles to accept him. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, she sank down onto his shaft.

  He continued to stroke her, even after she had him completely inside her. The rippling spasms of her inner muscles felt so erotic, he wondered if he needed to move at all. Maybe he should just make her come and let her orgasm trigger his. He had no doubt he could do it. Just when he had convinced himself he would spare her the discomfort of thrusting, she lifted her hips, dragging herself up along his entire length.

  “Oh, Tuesday,” he gasped.

  She lowered herself with more force.

  “Don’t—if it hurts.”

  “It hurts if I don’t,” she replied.

  He wasn’t about to argue. Steadying her hips, he showed her the rocking motion that created the most tingling friction. She trembled, moving her hands to his shoulders. He urged her on, but allowed her to determine the depth and speed of each thrust. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she clung to him, massaging him so tightly he wanted to die—and die happy.

  Her breasts heaved and quivered as she moved more vigorously. He cupped both, passing his thumbs over the nipples. Each time he flicked her, she tightened around him. The discovery made him anxious to explore all her triggers, find every spot that made her tremble, every point that made her burn.

  Dragging her face to his, he sealed his mouth over hers and mimicked the motion of their joining with sweeping penetrations of his tongue. She groaned, her fingernails digging painfully into his shoulders, and he knew she was almost there.

  He concentrated on the clench and release of her core, the heat, the motion. He wanted to rut like a madman, but this was enough. For now, this was enough.

  Tension gathered, tighter, painful. Then, pleasure burst, pounding through him, pouring from him, sweeping him away.

  * * * * *

  The PURE stronghold looked more like an office building than the military fortress Tuesday had expected. Reflective windows protected the privacy of Job’s disciples, but there were no high security fences or armed guards stationed in perimeter towers. She chuckled softly; she was actually disappointed.

  “Job’s hold on these people is psychological and financial, not physical.”

  As usual, Marc had easily guessed her thoughts. She bristled. Weren’t women supposed to be intriguing and unpredictable? She’d have to work on that. “I understand psychological, but what financial hold does he have over his followers?”

  “To become a True Believer you must sell your worldly goods and move to the PURE compound. They become worker bees in Job’s maniacal hive.” Her steps lagged the closer they drew to the main entrance. Marc pulled her to one side of the wide double doors, his hands lightly resting on her shoulders. “You don’t have to do this.”

  She touched the side of his face and managed to produce a smile. “Yes I do. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I don’t want to do something stupid.”

  Turning his face, he kissed the palm of her hand. “Regrets?”

  “Not at all.” They had finally made it to the bed, but only after he made love to her on the living room floor. Tingles zinged through her just thinking about the things they had done together, the ways he had touched her, the ways she had touched him.

  “More naughty thoughts?”

  She smiled. “Naughty memories.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “We’ve barely begun to be naughty.”

  Heat suffused her skin at the promise in his throaty tone. She had to pull herself together and stop thinking about last night. She had a job to do! “Enough. Let’s get this over with.”

  He pulled the door open and she stepped past him into the lobby of the PURE stronghold. Discreetly concealed behind mirrored domes, surveillance cameras recorded them from every angle. The lobby was large and welcoming, plans for the “Controlled Community” prominently displayed across one wall.

  They approached the information desk and a young woman with big brown eyes smiled at them. “Welcome to PURE. May I help you?”

  “I’m Tuesday Fitzpatrick. Job is expecting me.”

  She nodded and spoke softly into her audiocom. “You’re cleared to proceed through those doors, but your companion will have to submit to a screening if he wishes to accompany you.”

  Her gaze shot to Marc as panic rolled through her. “I just want to speak with Job,” she insisted. “I’d be much more comfortable if my friend came with me.”

  “Is he tainted?” The receptionist’s eyes were suddenly cold.

  “Barely,” Marc muttered. “My rating is 2.0.”

  “No one with a rating higher than 0.9 is allowed beyond the lobby.” She shrugged and looked at Tuesday. “There are no exceptions to the rule. You’re welcome to enter, but he stays here.”

  “Could you give us a moment, please?” She moved closer to Marc and they turned their backs on the woman.

  “I don’t like this,” he grumbled. “I should have anticipated it, but I sure as hell don’t like it.”

  “Give me an hour inside. If I haven’t returned by then, contact—”

  He silenced her with a quick kiss. “No names,” he whispered against her mouth. “One hour.”

  A sandy-haired man with light blue eyes approached as she passed beyond the lobby. The common arrangement of his features couldn’t mask the shrewd intelligence in his gaze. Dressed in black trousers and a white knit shirt bearing the PURE logo, he could have been an executive assistant at any conventional business.

  Without a word, he escorted her through a set of security doors. They emerged in a small courtyard, cluttered with benches and tables. A couple glanced up as he led her toward another secured door. No one spoke. Was the entire compound this
somber?

  “How can you stand it?” The man paused and faced her.

  “Stand what?”

  “You’re a 0.0. How can you tolerate the touch of one who is tainted?” He’d seemed indifferent as they walked along, but fury lit his gaze and his hands balled into fists.

  His indignation caught her by surprise. “Why is it any of your business? I don’t even know your name.”

  Without responding, he turned and resumed his trek down the corridor. Tuesday fell in line. Such a delightful sort. After opening the elevator door with a thumb scan, he depressed one of the pads on the control console, then quickly stepped out before the door closed.

  “Cute,” she muttered. Rocking subtly, the car announced its ascent. Moments later the door slid open, revealing an elegant foyer. Cautiously, she poked her head out and looked in either direction. A hall stretched off to her left and a spacious salon was offset to the right. No one was in sight.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Ms. Fitzpatrick. I’ll be with you momentarily.”

  Job’s disembodied voice made her jump and move fully into the foyer. Slightly distorted by the intercom, his tone was still familiar.

  Job. She shuddered.

  Two steps took her down into the salon, but she was too nervous to sit. Instead, she crossed to the massive windows and looked out over the complex. Two towers, identical to the one in which she stood, formed the points of a triangle. The bottom six floors connected around the courtyard, and halfway up the towers another section of connecting floors stabilized the structure.

  “Spectacular view, don’t you agree?”

  She shifted her focus from the scene below to Job’s reflection in the window. He stood behind her, one hand in the seam pocket of his slacks. She started to control her expression, then realized there was no need. It was to her advantage that he believe she was upset.

  Slowly, she turned. His pale hair had been pulled back, accenting his angular features. Her gaze gravitated toward his unusual eyes. The silver starburst gleamed with metallic brilliance, far more distinct than the vidfiles revealed.