Edge of Obsession (SKALS #3)

by Noir, Adriana

  “This is going to sound stupid, but is there something I can do to help?”

  He peeked over at her, his expression tired and strained. “Thank you but no. There’s not much anyone can do with this,” he said, tossing his workload to the far end of the couch. “Not even me. It’s a goose chase. I got nothing.”

  A brief stab of panic lanced Taylor’s chest. She tried not to think about the possible implications if he went back to work empty handed. Words like reconditioning and torture flickered through her mind, making her stomach churn. Resisting the urge to chew her bottom lip, she reached over and covered his hand with a reassuring squeeze.

  “You’ll find something, Sebby.”

  Turning on the couch, he leaned over and plucked the bowl of popcorn from the cushion beside her. After setting it on the rustic storage chest that doubled as a table, he pinned her against the back of the couch and trailed his fingers over her cheekbone as his eyes searched hers.

  “Such confidence,” he murmured. “You never stop believing in me, Taylor. You never stop loving me, even when everybody else does. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you.”

  “I don’t know either,” she teased, cracking a small smile. “You should count yourself lucky though.”

  The sorrow in his eyes lessened and his hoarse laugh rang through the room. “I might not say it often, but believe me, sweetheart, I do.” Twining his fingers through hers, he lifted her hand and kissed the top of her ring. “You don’t just see the best in people, Taylor. You do the impossible every single day. You bring out the best in me.”

  Tears stung her eyes and she lowered her head with an embarrassed shake. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.”

  She shivered as he wrapped a hand around her throat and pulled her closer. His breath fanned her ear as he nosed her hair out of the way. “I could make you scream my name instead,” he whispered.

  “I don’t recall agreeing to those terms either, Special Agent Baas,” she said, fighting to keep the telltale tremble of desire out of her voice.

  He gave a low chuckle as he snared her hips and dragged her into his lap. “I’m afraid you are all out of options, darling.”

  Raw intensity and hunger fueled his pale gaze, leaving her numb. She shifted against the hard ridge of his arousal, drawing a tortured groan from his throat. Spearing his hands through her hair, he fisted the sable locks and wrenched with a sharp tug. Her startled gasp filled the room. Smirking, Sebastian ground against her, a hint of challenge rising in his eyes. Using the hold on her hair, he pulled until her body splayed against his.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” he promised in a raspy whisper. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even have a voice left to scream with. I’m going to ravage you in ways that will make you forget who you are, but I guarantee you’ll remember me. Say it, Taylor. Say my name…”

  The air left her in a shallow exhale and her heart thundered in her chest. Still, there was no denying the thrill of excitement his words elicited.

  “Sebby,” she breathed.

  The sound of rending fabric filled her ears, and her eyes flared as he wrenched the tattered remnants of her tank top away and tossed it across the room. The smooth, firm expanse of his palms slid beneath her bra and cupped the full mounds beneath. Kneading them, he strummed his thumbs over her nipples until they hardened. His piercing green stare locked with hers as he twisted the stiff peaks until she whimpered and arched her back, bowing into his touch.

  “Mmm. That’s my girl,” he murmured. “You are so damn beautiful. I’m warning you, I’m not stopping until I’ve finally had my fill. Say it again.”

  Her insides responded with a warm rush of desire. The ache winding through her was beyond unbearable. It was a desperate, aching pulse. Her nails sank into his shoulders in a silent plea. “Seb, please. I need you. I can’t take anymore teasing tonight.”

  “You have no idea how hot it makes me to hear you beg.”

  Before she could respond, he stripped her bra and sealed his mouth against her breast in a possessive clamp. The swift dart of his tongue pantomimed his hips as he ground against her and sucked her nipple with painful zeal. Release danced just out of reach, the delicious torment driving her mad.

  “Oh God. Please, Sebastian…please. I’ll do anything.”

  “Not yet. Say it again,” he breathed.

  The firm bulge behind his zipper rocked upwards, sending a wicked jolt of pleasure through her starving system. She bit her lip. Her body trembled with strain, wanting so much to please him. Sebastian continued his ruthless assault, each powerful plunge grazing the sweet spot that threatened to explode. Her fingers tightened, a surprised cry breaking from her lips when he seized her hair with a forceful tug.

  “No coming. Say my name, Taylor,” he growled.

  “Sebby, pleeeassee.”

  She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Her entire body tensed with the desperate need for release. Her nerve endings were on fire, scorched by unfulfilled promises. Taylor searched for something, anything to distract her, but she was all too aware of him grinding and stroking against her, the sear of his lips on her skin. The death-grip she had on his shoulders tightened as she clung to the fragile threads of self-control. The world threatened to shatter and give way beneath her. Holding on for dear life, his name fell from her lips in a keening cry. Sebastian stilled, his eyes tracking her expression intently. She loved the man and cursed him in the same breath, knowing in that moment, he would make good on every single one of his promises before the night was through.

  Sebastian eyed the cold cup of coffee in front of him. Loose grounds floated along the top, sticking to the side of the mug. His fists balled, and steeling his jaw, he made a mental note to track down whoever was responsible for making the disaster later. It was the wrong morning to cross him, let alone try to serve up grainy, disgusting swill. His gaze drifted across the table and narrowed on the new guy with more than a shred of suspicion. Even Josh pushed his mug away, his face screwing into a disgusted grimace after taking a sip. If Marx noticed, the big man showed little care. He remained stationed at the front of the head of the conference table, ham-sized fists balled and pressing against the dark wood, his ebony stare drilling into them from across the room. Vince shifted his weight uncomfortably. The discordant creak of his chair was he only sound to shatter the sickening tension flooding the atmosphere.

  Wes hung his head, refusing to look up from the table. His left cheek was swollen and already starting to mottle with an angry bruise. Casting him a curious glance, Sebastian wondered what had happened there. His patience wavered. No longer willing to play games and wait, he met their director’s glower head on.

  One side of Marx’s wide mouth jumped in a venomous twitch. “Do you finally have something useful you wish to contribute this morning, or is this just another blatant display of your testicular fortitude, Agent Baas?”

  “With all due respect, even I can’t work miracles, Marx,” he bit out evenly. “The reports you gave me were inconclusive at best.”

  “I see.” Accusations and scorn blazed in the commander’s eyes as he shifted his attention to Josh. “Are you in agreement with this assessment, Agent Reevers?”

  His partner rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug.

  “Baas is the best we have. If he says the reports suck, I’m inclined to agree.”

  Marx tapped the mahogany table with the end of his pen until the noise threatened to drive Sebastian mad. A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth he envisioned plowing the dull end through the pompous asshole’s throat.

  “I see nothing humorous about the situation,” the big man warned. Tossing the pen aside, he folded his colossal arms, making his heavy biceps strain against the rolled up cuffs of his uniform. “In fact, I find it rather unsettling that I assigned three of you to this case and you come back to me with nothing.”

  “We come back with what you gave us to work with,” Sebasti
an pointed out. “I stayed up all night pouring over those files.”

  Marx grunted in dry acknowledgement. “Are you sure it was the files you were pouring over and not the inside of your pet’s creamy little thighs, Agent Baas? I believe you’ve made your addiction to her quite clear.”

  One of the new guys tittered. His amusement quickly faded as Sebastian swung a furious scowl his way. Clearing his throat, the rookie sank lower in his seat. He let his glare bore into the man a minute longer before returning his attention to their director.

  “My sex life is none of your business,” he stated coldly.

  “Everything you do is my business.”

  “Look, I didn’t come in here to have a pissing match with you. We put everything we had into reading those files. We have no known address and no recent hits on this guy. The only thing I could turn up was his rather impressive service records and a divorce decree. For all we know, our target is dead.”

  “He’s not a ghost, Sebastian. He is very much alive and I want him found. Not next week. NOW.” Marx emphasized his point by slamming his fist onto the table hard enough to make several mugs jump.

  The fucker was coming unraveled in more ways than one. Wes shrank back. The normally stalwart man looked like he was on the verge of crawling under the table. Sabastian veiled his disgust. He was in no mood to deal with the blatant display of fear.

  “Why we are going after this guy? Perhaps you could enlighten the rest of us?”

  “Perhaps you should have put more effort into doing your damn job, Baas,” Marx snapped. “I should toss you and your worthless partner in a cell. I’m not talking about a piddly two-week vacation either, boys. I’m starting to think a few months in lockdown are in order. Maybe that would help you realign your priorities and give you the motivation to stop fucking off and wasting my time.”

  Stunned silence fell over the room. Most of the team remained focused on the briefings in front of them, refusing to look up lest they get sucked into the crossfire. Sebastian’s stomach cramped as he threw a quick glance in Josh’s direction. His partner’s face had blanched an ashen white. Seeing the pleading poised on the tip of the other man’s tongue, he plowed a hand through his hair. Christ, they were all starting to fall apart.

  “Reevers had nothing to do with it. I pushed him off the case last night. If you want to blame someone for this, blame me.”

  Marx’s brow inched lower. His soft chocolate skin darkened and the broad, craggy planes of his face seemed to shift beneath the surface as his cheeks tightened. “You are playing a dangerous game, Sebastian. Your job is to follow orders, not usurp them. Get your ass back into line or so help me God, I will force you so far back you won’t even be able to see the damn thing. Are we clear?”

  “Completely,” he ground through clenched teeth.

  “Good. All of you get out of my sight,” the director barked, tossing the file back across the table. “If I don’t have something useful in my hands by noon, you will all start disappearing.”

  Cursing beneath his breath, Sebastian snatched up the packet and shoved away from the conference table with a snarl. Josh and the rest of the team were hot on his heels and he could hear the poor rookie they’d been saddled with scrambling to keep up. The dim lighting and somber grey walls lining the corridors only fueled his bitter mood. His office door rebounded off the cement wall as he flung it open. Casting him a cautious glance, the guard stationed outside wisely inched away. The movement alone was enough to make him want to plant a bullet in the man’s skull.

  Josh paced the floor in agitation while Vince dropped into one of the empty chairs with a ragged exhale. Wes entered shortly behind them, his face stoic as he nudged a very frightened and confused looking Jackson inside. Normally, seeing that kind of petrified horror stamped across a rookie’s face would have afforded him a small twinge of amusement. Instead, he found his fingers twitching with the urge to lock around the young man’s throat and squeeze the life out of him. Folding his arms to keep his murderous impulses under control, Sebastian leaned against the window ledge.

  Freedom loomed on the other side of the dismal glass panes, but it was best to ignore it. It was far too easy for a man to crave what he couldn’t have, and for all the good the outside world did them at the moment, it might as well of been a million miles away. They would be lucky if they ever stepped foot outside these walls again.

  “Well,” Josh said, plopping into a chair and slumping sideways in his seat. “That was an unpleasant bit of fuckery. Anybody bring the lube today?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t that bad. I mean, we just have to give the guy what he wants, right? With five of us, how hard can that really be?”

  Josh’s dark cobalt eyes flared with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? First off, no one asked for your opinion here, cupcake. Secondly, lose the Mary Poppins and everything is sunshine act before I bust a cap in your ass. In case you missed the memo, the rest of us are having a really shitty fucking day.”

  “Both of you shut up.” Sebastian’s expression hardened with a look of strict reproach. “I’m not running a daycare service and, like it or not, we are all on the same team. I suggest the two of you man up and start acting like it.”

  “I can man up just fine. Don’t ask me what Boy Wonder here is capable of though,” Josh retorted, jutting a thumb in the other man’s direction. “Since when are we nice to the new guys around here, anyway?”

  “Since now. We have an impossible amount of work to do and I have no desire to spend the next few months of my life rotting away in a reconditioning cell.”

  “What’s that?” Jackson asked. His mouth twisted with worry as he looked between the two of them.

  “You remember your training? The endless tapes, videos, and shock therapy getting your addled little brain ready to protect, serve, and kill?”

  “Yeah…” Jackson said uncertainly.

  “Worse.”

  The young man’s jaw slackened just enough for it to be noticeable and he gave a disparaging shake of his head. “Jesus. How?”

  “You know the shit we do to other people?” Josh asked.

  “Interrogations, right?”

  “Yeah, whatever kid. If that’s what you want to call it, sure. Take all that torture, turn it around, and amplify it. Then amplify it again, because Marx is seriously pissed and has a bug up his ass. That’s what reconditioning is like and there’s no way out for us either. Not until we’ve learned our lesson and then some,” Josh quipped.

  “Wait…they do what now?”

  “Yeah, it’s a real fucking blast. Welcome to SKALS. I suggest you strap yourself in, cupcake. You just entered the ninth circle of hell.”

  CHAPTER 8 ~

  The house and grounds were both dark by the time Sebastian nosed the Benz through the wrought iron gates. Offering Rupert a stiff nod of greeting, he pulled the rest of the way up the drive and parked the car in the garage. His shoulders sagged with a mixture of relief and unspent tension. After ten days away, home was no longer a comforting notion, but something that felt unfamiliar and strange.

  He craned his neck until the vertebrae popped in protest. Keeping his eyes trained on the rearview mirror, his fingers flexed around the steering wheel as he watched bright bursts of lightning lance the sky behind him. Images of raw electricity and intermittent flashes of torture accompanied them. He could still see the way the wicked blue volts branched through the air like spider webs before they rippled across his skin. He could still feel the indescribable agony of every muscle and nerve ending snapping to instant, rigid attention until it felt like his entire body would shatter.

  It hadn’t mattered that they’d delivered a substantial bit of evidence to Marx before the day was done. The crazy bastard was still hungry for blood and, by the time the week was done, he’d eked out his share.

  Dropping his chin to his chest, he fought to pull himself back together and reacclimate himself to the world once more. He struggled to find that small sembl
ance of humanity still inside him and let go of the hatred and rage that smothered his soul. Realizing it was pointless, he shut off the ignition.

  The garage lights flickered and dimmed. He managed to step free of the car and shut the door before they shut off altogether, casting him back into the familiar ink of darkness. Frowning, he pushed his way into the house, hung up the overcoat to his uniform in the laundry room, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted the top free and downed half the bottle, relishing the way the ice cold liquid traced a languid path down his throat to the pit of his stomach. After finishing the rest, he pitched the empty container in the trash.

  Ignoring the gnawing hunger pangs clawing through his system, he wandered through the house, his head tilting as he strained to decipher the muffled noises coming from upstairs. Taylor’s name flickered through his mind and a cold prickle crawled across his nape as a blinding flash of lighting illuminated the entire foyer, bathing it in a ghostly flood. What the hell was she doing?

  Another distressed whimper drew him further up the stairs. His hand curled around the handle of the pistol holstered at his thigh as the entire house boomed and rattled beneath his feet. His name carried softly in the aftermath, making his chest tighten with fury. Taking them two and three at a time, he scaled the remainder of the steps.

  His body grew so rigid it ached. Uncertain of what he would find, he kicked the doors open, drawing a shrill scream from Taylor. His eyes darted around the room in a frantic search. It turned up nothing. Drawing his weapon, he swept the sitting room to his right before rounding the fireplace that served as quarter divider between the two rooms and inching around their massive four-poster bed.