He used his tongue to trail down from her hip to the juncture of her thigh. He purposely didn’t kiss her where he wanted to kiss her most. He just played and nuzzled until he located a spot that caused Grace to make a small sound of pleasure.
Vince lingered a while there on the inside of her upper thigh. Until the sound repeated. And repeated.
“What gets you hot, Grace?”
She didn’t answer right away. “This.” She shifted a little, aligned her pussy with his mouth.
“No, what gets you really hot?” He brushed his tongue over her clit.
“That.” It rushed out, and she thrust her hips forward and grabbed onto his hair.
Good. They were getting somewhere, but according to Grace she had no trouble with the heating up, it was only with the finish. Since her clit seemed to work just fine, then it was all in her head.
“Okay, in the next couple of minutes, my mouth’s going to be occupied,” he started, “so you keep up the conversation. You tell me what gets you hot. Porn?”
“No.”
Vince located the wettest part of her body and started kissing. All that heat. And the taste. Not chicken. But all silk and fire.
All Grace.
“Keep talking,” Vince insisted, using his words and breath to blow on her. “I want to hear fantasies.”
The sound she made wasn’t little when he gently nipped her clit and slid his tongue deep into her. And the grip on his hair tightened to a painful level.
“Public sex,” she blurted out. “I’ve never done it, but the thought of it gets me hot.”
Without stopping the kisses, Vince took his phone, turned on the video recorder and handed it to her. “It’s not exactly public,” he said. “But it could be. You can show it to anyone you want.”
Grace looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Well, for a second. And then a new level of heat crept into her eyes. “I wouldn’t show it to anyone.”
He shrugged. “But it’ll be there. For you. For me. For whatever you want to use it for. Keep filming. Keep talking,” Vince insisted, and he went after her as if she were his breakfast, lunch and dinner.
“Yes,” Grace said. More hair pulling. And she kept his phone pointed at all the action.
She went right into the rhythm. Lifting her hips. Those sounds. Vince could taste the change in her. She was getting ready to cum so he upped things by latching on her great ass and pulling her even harder against his mouth.
And just like that, Grace started to cool.
He tasted that, too. Felt it even more. And her sounds drifted to silence.
No. Hell, no. This wasn’t going to happen.
Vince got up and dragged her off the bed with him. He fumbled through his jeans and grabbed the condom from his wallet.
“This won’t work,” Grace insisted while she watched him put on the condom.
“Maybe not. But at least one of us is about to get off.” He lifted her, put her back against the wall directly next to the window and threw open the curtain.
Vince was hoping that Rusty was right about the place being safe, but he kept one eye trained on the pasture just in case.
“Now, we’re more semi-public.” He hooked her legs around her, aligned everything and slid his cock into her.
He cursed.
Oh, man. She was tighter, wetter and better than he’d imagined. This sucked because he wasn’t going to last, and if they were going to do this together, Grace would need time.
“Just do it,” Grace insisted.
Without her was the unsaid message at the end of that.
That might happen, but Vince was going to do everything humanly possible to make sure it didn’t.
When he didn’t get those sounds from her, he moved her from the wall to the window sill with her facing the wide open pasture. There was little or no chance of anyone seeing them, but he hoped the fantasy would take over. If it didn’t, as desperate as he was, he might take her out to the road and fuck her there.
Vince leaned her over so that the window was supporting her weight, and he entered her from behind.
“Keep you eyes open. Look out the window,” he told her.
A few hard thrusts inside her, and he heard the sound. Her body turned to warm wax again, and Vince thought he was making some progress until she stopped. Turned. And she put him against the window. Grace put her foot on the sill to get leverage and took his cock back inside her.
“Yes,” she said, sliding hard and fast against him.
But she wasn’t looking out the window. She was looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Vince, and he could see all that heat. Could feel it, too. She was like liquid fire, burning him, sliding over every hard inch of him.
With her hips pistoning against his, with her thrusts burying his cock to the hilt, Vince didn’t think he could last long enough. Not even another second. Hell, he might even die trying.
Grace’s gazed locked to his. “It’s you,” she whispered.
He wasn’t sure if she was seeing him or if this was part of Alyssa’s genetic memories. Nor did he have time to dwell on it.
“It’s you,” she repeated, the words coming with each of those wet slides against him. “It’s you.”
It was those words echoing in his head when he felt her slip away.
Shit.
This wasn’t the plan, but she didn’t stop moving. In fact, she picked up the pace.
“You’re doing this with me,” he gutted out.
But she only shook her head and kept working him over until he had no choice but to surrender. He buried his face against hers and let himself fall.
It’s you.
Yeah, it was, and later when he could do more than sink into the climax, Vince would figure out what the fuck that had just gone wrong.
Chapter Twenty-one
Dana sipped her coffee and stared out the kitchen window. Everything inside her felt calm. She knew it wouldn’t last. Couldn’t. After all, her life was in danger, in total upheaval and her mother’s pub had been destroyed. Her past was gone, as if the killer was trying to erase it along with her.
Maybe he was.
But in doing so, the killer had brought her to Jack.
As if he’d knew what she was thinking, Jack looked up from the laptop where he was reading yet another report at the bar that divided the kitchen from the small dining room. The coffee she’d poured him was untouched. Ditto for the now cold bagel he’d toasted while she bathed and dressed.
They could thank Rusty for the stocked fridge and yet another set of clothes and toiletries. This time, he’d managed to get her jeans and a blue top that fit as if they’d been tailor made for her.
“You okay?” Jack stood, went to her and slipped his arm around her. She was already more or less calm, but that helped even more.
“Anxious to talk with Rory Sullivan.” Which was still hours away because Rusty needed the time to arrange a secure meeting place and work out other details with Rory himself. However, it’d be worth the wait if the eugenics’ offspring could give them answers.
“He wants to meet with all four of us,” Jack said.
That snagged her attention. “How’d he know four of us existed?”
“Per her instructions, Dr. Hartwell’s lawyer sent Sullivan a copy of the same letter we got.”
Dana thought about that and couldn’t come up with a logical reason for the doctor to do that. “Why? The Zeus Project is all but dead.”
“All but,” Jack repeated. He hesitated. “Sullivan is insisting that we all meet face-to-face. If we don’t, then he’s not talking.”
She didn’t have to think long about that. “You believe it might be a trap?”
“Maybe.” He wearily shook his head. “Rusty can make security tight, but he can’t make it foolproof. That’s why he’s trying to negotiation new rules for the meeting.”
“And those rules would be for you to go alone.” It wasn’t a question.
“That way, Vince could stay
here and make sure Grace and you are protected.”
Dana hated that idea. “But you’ll be taking all the risks.”
“We need this risk because we have to find this killer.”
“I understand that.” And she did. “But I don’t want you getting killed.” Oh, mercy. It hurt to say that. Hurt even more to know that it was a strong possibility.
“Sullivan’s not our only hope,” Jack reminded her. “I have PIs trying to figure out if Samuel Wright is really Eric, and they’re tracking down any and all leads.”
Yes. Dana wasn’t disappointed with Jack’s efforts. However, it had come at a price. The exhaustion and concern were all over his face, and the risks were still there.
She’d managed to get some sleep after their arrival at the safe house, but she doubted Jack had done the same. Even though it was only eight in the morning, she was about to suggest a nap for both of them. Mainly for Jack. But she stood no chance of convincing him unless she got in bed with him.
Dana sighed.
And maybe the nap ploy was just that. A ploy on her part. Because she wanted to get him in bed.
She brushed a kiss on his mouth and would have deepened it if his laptop hadn’t made a dinging sound to indicate he had a new email. Jack sighed too, kissed her the right way and then went to the laptop. He clicked a few buttons, and she saw the change in expression.
“A problem?” she asked, hurrying to his side.
Dana expected to see a report of some kind of the screen, but instead it was several photos of a couple that she recognized.
“Alyssa’s mother and father,” she supplied, studying them. “Grace’s and my biological parents.”
“Alice and Carson Moss,” Jack added. He scrolled past the pictures and to the report. “It appears they were trying to leave the Zeus Project when they were killed in a car accident.”
“Good grief.” Since her hands no longer seemed so calm, she set her coffee on the bar. “How many people died because of this?”
Jack didn’t answer because he pivoted toward the motion in the doorway. He automatically reached for the gun in his shoulder holster, but it was just Grace. Oh, yes. Jack definitely needed some rest. And judging from the look on Grace’s face, they needed to talk.
Dana kissed Jack on the cheek and was about to ask him to give Grace and her some girl time, but he got her nonverbal cues.
“I’ll try to catch a cat nap,” Jack said. But he stopped when he made it to the doorway where Grace was standing.
“Feeling better?” he asked her.
Grace made a noncommittal sound. “I feel like an idiot for making that call.”
Jack stared at her, put his arm around her and eased her closer to him. He brushed a kiss on her forehead.
Dana braced herself for the punch of jealousy even though she knew that Jack was just trying to comfort someone who needed it. Still, it stung a little. Not as much as Dana thought it would though.
“This killer has had decades to plan this,” Jack reminded her. “We’ve had hours. There were bound to be some hitches--”
“Yeah, and I’m the one who made a major one.”
“So did I,” Jack countered. “I should have disconnected the phones or at least warned you not to use them.” Another brushed kiss on her forehead. “This was my mistake, Grace, not yours.” He tipped his head to the bedrooms. “Do you know if Vince is up yet?”
Grace glanced away, nodded. “He’s reading something on the other laptop.”
Jack flexed his eyebrows and looked back at Dana, maybe to see if she was okay with this forehead kissing. Or maybe to see if she thought Grace’s dodged gaze meant anything. Dana was positive that it did, but she just gave Jack the go-ahead nod.
“I’ll bet you could use some coffee,” Dana said the moment that Jack walked away. She took out a cup and started pouring.
“I could, thanks.” Grace latched onto the filled up and had a big sip despite the fact it was scalding.
“What’s wrong?” Dana came right out and asked.
“You mean other than thinking that I’m losing my mind? I keep getting these weird flashes of being choked. Of being kissed.” Grace gulped down more coffee. “I was with Vince last night.”
That didn’t exactly surprise Dana since she’d seen Vince go into Grace’s room. Jack and she hadn’t waited long enough to see if he’d come out because they’d gone to the other bedroom together. However, there was something odd about Grace’s expression that made Dana wonder what had really gone on with Vince and her.
“I almost had an orgasm,” Grace added.
“Almost?”
“Yeah.” Grace paused. “It would have been my first so I was looking forward to it.”
Dana wasn’t sure what to say. The conversation seemed too intimate, but it also seemed oddly normal. Like a sisterly chat over coffee. What made this really weird was that Jack and Vince had the same bodies, and Dana couldn’t imagine making it through a round of sex with Jack without an orgasm. Of course, Grace and she hadn’t had the same experiences.
“What went wrong?” Dana risked asking.
Grace shrugged. “Me. It’s always me. Vince got me right to the edge, and then I started hearing one of my mother’s lectures about what I slut I am and that my genitalia is an instrument of Satan. I don’t believe that, of course, but it’s hard to concentrate on an orgasm when you’ve got a slut lecture in your head.”
“I’ll bet. But we’re all sluts at heart,” Dana mumbled.
That caused Grace to smile, something that Dana had hoped for.
“How did Vince take all of this?” Dana asked.
“He wasn’t happy. I assured him it wasn’t him or his technique. The man’s built just fine.” She stopped. “But you know that.”
“Only because of Jack. I haven’t been with Vince in any kind of way.” Dana felt herself frown. “Actually, I haven’t with Jack fully, but it’ll happen. I want it to happen.”
What was left of Grace’s smile faded. “How do you do it? How do you let go?”
Dana wasn’t sure she was asking about sex. “Stupid, blind trust,” she answered. “Yeah,” she added when Grace grimaced. “Very hard for women like us. I swore after Trey cut me to ribbons and left me to die that I’d never let a man touch me again.”
“But you did,” Grace pointed out.
“Mostly.” Dana wasn’t exactly comfortable spilling this. It seemed a violation of the intimacy she had with Jack. But it also felt as if were talking to herself. Which in a way, she was. “Jack and I have had sex of sorts, but I still can’t handle a man’s weight on me.”
“Because Trey held you down.” Her eyes widened. “And he raped you.”
Dana needed a deep breath, and she hated the images that came. Damn it.
“I’m sorry.” Grace took her by the arm. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No. It’s okay.” The act wasn’t, but Grace’s bringing it up was. “He didn’t rape me. Not exactly. But when I fought back, he grabbed the knife.” And that was all she intended to say about that. “It’s not so bad. I think missionary-style is probably overrated anyway.”
“I wouldn’t know. Until last night, I thought all sex was overrated. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Well, Vince did something right,” Dana concluded.
“Yeah, he did.” Her gaze came to Dana’s. “Are you jealous of Vince and me?”
Dana lifted her shoulder. Shook her head. “Hard to say. I feel something for Vince, but I’ve been on the receiving end of Jack. So, maybe a really good orgasm or two creates a stronger bond. Or maybe it just makes us crazier and more slutty.”
Grace smiled, but it quickly faded. “If we go with the theory that we’re cloned or replicated soul mates, then that means Vince is your soul mate, too.
“You’re not suggesting group sex?” Dana joked.
“No. I’m just trying to feel you out before I get too deep into this.”
Dana brushed her hand down Gr
ace’s arm. “I hate to tell you, but we’re already in too deep.”
Grace groaned, and Dana knew that’s because both of them were certain that it was true. Whatever was going to play out here, their lives would never be the same again.
When Grace’s attention drifted to the laptop, Dana wasn’t surprised when the woman moved closer. She no doubt saw the photos of their biological parents.
“We look like them,” Grace observed.
Dana made a sound of agreement. “I wonder if they knew Dr. Hartwell planned to replicate the daughter they’d conceived in a test tube?”
“Well, they were all part of the original program. The Zeus Project.” Grace scrolled through the report. “Anything in here about this Rory Sullivan?”
“Not that I know of. Jack and Rusty are making arrangements for the meeting.” She purposely left out Sullivan’s demand of seeing them all. Grace had enough worries on her mind, and besides, Rusty might be able to fix that specific concern.
So that Jack would go in alone.
Dana had to push that aside because it make her sick just to think of it.
Grace paused, sipped more of her coffee. “Wonder how Rory'll react when he sees another version of Layton.” She snapped toward Dana. “Jeez Louise, you don’t think he had an obsession with Alyssa, too? This is already crazy enough without that playing into it.”
Dana opened her mouth to dismiss that, but it was impossible to dismiss anything. “Even if there is an obsession, I seriously doubt it’d be anything compared to what I feel for Jack.” She turned away, hating to admit this to anyone, especially herself. “I want him all the time.”
“Is that, uh, normal for you?”
“Sex needs? No. Not in years. And never this strong.” She motioned toward her own torso. “When I got these scars, my sex drive died. Or so I thought.”
“Yeah,” Grace whispered. And just repeated that while she lifted Dana's stretchy top. Her gaze darted from one scar to the other. “I’m sorry he hurt you like that.”
Dana tried to dismiss it. Failed. And she realized it felt somewhat good to share this with another woman. With a sister, she mentally corrected, because Grace did feel like a sister to her.
Dead Ringers Page 18