Telepathic Cravings

by Melissa Schroeder

  A minute later, he spun her around and devoured her mouth. Without breaking the kiss, he cupped her ass and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She shivered as he ground his cock against her cunt. Need almost choked her as she pulled back from him then kissed a path down his neck. The taste of him, the very scent of him, had her blood rushing through her veins.

  He groaned her name as she took his earlobe in her mouth. His knees buckled. She released her legs from around his waist, and he stumbled to the chair. He landed with a thud. She stepped between his legs. She had her hand on the top button of her jacket when her personal communicator buzzed.

  Irritation crept up her spine, but the ring, her brother’s, couldn’t have come at a better time. She had needed something to remind her of what was at stake.

  She pulled back, and Marcus followed her with a growl.

  “It’s my brother,” she said, and he frowned. Frustration shone in his eyes, but he relented and walked away, taking a few deep breaths.

  She clipped on her earpiece and answered David’s call.

  “Hey, what took you so long?”

  She cleared her throat. “I’d left my PC at my desk.”

  “Oh. Well, what time did you want me to come over tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah, you, me, pizza, and a movie.”

  Lord, she’d forgotten about that.

  “David, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it tonight.”

  Silence filled her earpiece. “What do you mean?”

  “I have to work late. Something’s come up.” She glanced at Marcus, who wore that stupid smile he’d been shooting at her all day. He glanced down at his obvious erection, then back at her. Her stomach flip-flopped at the sight of his mischievous smile. “There’s something going on I can’t talk about.”

  “This doesn’t have to do with what we talked about at lunch, does it?”

  “No,” she said a bit too forcefully, garnering both her brother’s and Marcus’ attention. “No, it’s just something Mar—Mr. Carlyle needs me to do.”

  “Okay.” The tone of David’s voice made it clear he didn’t believe her.

  “I’ll call you in a couple of days and we’ll make plans. Mom and Dad will be home next week, before the New Year. We’ll plan a dinner at my place for them.”

  He hesitated. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “David, really, I’m just too busy to watch a movie tonight.”

  After she clicked off her PC, a deafening silence filled the air. She turned to face Marcus and was surprised to find him glowering at her.

  “Was there a reason you couldn’t tell your brother you’re going to be at my place tonight?”

  “First of all, I didn’t know that. Second, he would go ballistic if I told him that.”

  “Why?”

  Her body still vibrated from unrelieved arousal. She was sure her brother knew she’d lied, and she was overwrought by her mixed emotions. And he had the nerve to question her? To try to tell her what to do? She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her temper. When he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, she exploded.

  “What the hell would you have me tell him, Marcus?” she yelled.

  His eyes widened and he took a step back. “I—”

  “Yeah, David, I was too busy screwing around with my boss to answer my PC. Oh, and tonight, after we work, we plan to fuck our brains out. What do you think my brother would say to that?”

  He stared at her as if he didn’t know her. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t recognize herself. Her face heated in embarrassment and she just wanted to get away from him.

  “I’m going to grab my microreports for the meeting this afternoon.” She brushed past him. “Shana Adams, authorize.”

  The doors stayed shut.

  “Marcus.”

  She didn’t turn around, because she couldn’t face him after her outburst. And at the moment, not one thought came from him.

  “Marcus Carlyle, unlock.”

  The door slid open, and she hurried down the hall. Her heart still beat out of control, and she tried to ignore the ache. She so wanted to tell Marcus everything, and have him understand. She’d never thought she would have to.

  * * * *

  Marcus looked over the report on Shana. His top-secret clearance made it easy for him, as the director, to access her records. No one questioned him. And as he read over the listing of her childhood, education, and work experiences, he couldn’t find one thing that would warrant her behavior the night before. Hell, he couldn’t understand why she reacted the way she did today when her brother called. Just because they’d been on the verge…

  His dick twitched, and he decided not to think about it. Truthfully, he couldn’t understand himself. He had a traitor to catch, and he was daydreaming about Shana. It was becoming a major problem. His lack of concentration was embarrassing. Hell, all he had to do was think of something she’d find funny, of how her lips would turn up in that cute smile of hers, and he was lost for at least ten minutes. He had it bad. And after last night, it didn’t look to get any better. Not only was he fantasizing about her, but he knew just how good those fantasies could be, and he’d developed a strong possessive streak. Completely out of character for him. It was bad enough he was haunting the halls with his knuckles dragging the floor.

  He leaned back in his chair, trying to understand why John had been bothering Shana. The lash of anger that had lanced through him surprised him. Hopefully, John had believed his story about their meeting. Which, as usual, didn’t go as planned.

  Why doesn’t anything go as planned with Shana?

  She never acted as he predicted, but this afternoon had been a little confusing. He’d never seen her lose her temper like that before. Even when he would grill her or question her conclusions, the woman held on to her control. This afternoon, there was something almost desperate about her behavior. Maybe there was more to her than he thought there was.

  That brought him back to the report. There was something missing, something bothering him about her background. It was perfect—almost too perfect.

  He turned his chair around and pulled up the file again. There was nothing, not one relative who had done anything wrong. Every family had someone, some idiot who got in trouble, but for the past couple of generations, no one had in her family. Perfect.

  Unease settled in his stomach. He stood and paced behind his desk. He knew he could do a little digging, but he hesitated. If he turned up something in her past, he would have to report it, and she would lose her job. And more than likely want nothing to do with him. That was just unacceptable.

  He stopped dead in his tracks. His head whirled as he considered the implications. Marcus Carlyle never let anything go. He was relentless, or so everyone told him. He smiled grimly. But where Shana was concerned, he hesitated. Why?

  He’d never allowed his personal life to interfere with his professional life. Shana was different. Her unrestrained passion knocked him on his ass. Still, he’d never let good sex get in the way of his judgment before Shana.

  But that’s not all it is. He pushed that thought aside. He didn’t like the niggle it caused around the vicinity of his heart.

  Marcus didn’t conduct affairs at work, so maybe that was it. Hell, yes. That has to be it. His balls tightened as he thought about the way she’d licked them the night before.

  He drew in a deep breath and tried to push the thoughts to the side. Once they worked through this problem and caught the traitor, he’d work out what was bothering him about Shana. His personal life could be put on hold while he dealt with this new threat.

  “Marcus, you have a meeting, conference room five, security briefing,” the sultry voice of his computer assistant reminded him.

  He walked to the meeting, trying his best not to think of Shana as his lover but as his employee.

  At that moment, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He realized he wasn’t sure he
could do it.

  * * * *

  Shana finished her briefing without incident. Not once did Marcus emit an indecent thought about her. And, dammit, she was disappointed. It had only been happening for a day, but she’d gotten used to his thoughts, and now he had cut them off from her. She fought the urge to ask him what the hell was wrong.

  “Ms. Adams?” John Marrow asked, his slimy smile making her uncomfortable.

  “Yes?”

  “I was wondering if you’re positive you can find nothing on this new threat?”

  You stupid bitch.

  She blinked at Marrow, then glanced at Marcus, who was shooting daggers at him.

  That wasn’t Marcus. That was John Marrow.

  “No. I do think this has more to do with outright terrorism. A statement or, say, a declaration against the Federation.”

  Images of a meeting, of money being exchanged, and something about logistics of an attack shot through her thoughts. Again, a tug on her brain alerted her that someone was trying to gain access to her thoughts.

  “I think Ms. Adams made that clear yesterday,” Marcus said, his voice lethal as he leveled John Marrow with a narrow-eyed gaze.

  “Ms. Adams, I think that will be all.”

  She nodded and hurried out of the room and to her desk. She gathered her things and then headed to the VO to get her hovervehicle. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Marrow hadn’t closed off his thoughts to her. Unless he had no idea of her gift. Why would she hear his thoughts? Since the lapse the day before, she’d only heard Marcus’ thoughts. Maybe it had something to do with the intense feelings behind them. She just wasn’t sure.

  As she sped home, she decided to do a little checking into John Marrow’s past. The fact another para, apparently another telepath, at that, had been hired by Marcus and trusted with some of the most top-secret information about the Federation, left a cold ball of fear in her stomach. Why the hell had he attached himself to Marcus in college? Everyone knew Marrow rode on Marcus’ coattails, first through college and now with his second-in-command position. She was sure her assumption was correct. That John Marrow, Marcus’ best friend and right-hand man, had sold him out.

  And just how the hell was she supposed to tell Marcus?

  Chapter 9

  Shana’s nerves were shot by the time she reached Marcus’ apartment that evening. She’d spent a few hours researching Marrow and his family connections. It had taken her awhile to find the information that explained why he’d used Marcus the way he had. After an extensive search in personnel files at the department yielded little info, Shana searched the Internet for links to Marrow. She’d figured there hadn’t been a deep search on him because he’d helped Marcus start his company. Finally, she hacked into his grandmother’s personal records, and what she found left her blood cold. Samantha Farrow had been Samantha Johnson before she’d changed her maiden name.

  He was Ripley Johnson’s second cousin. Just thinking it unsettled her stomach. There was not one doubt in her mind that he had singled out Marcus in college, befriended him, and planned to use him to exact what he saw as revenge. Everyone knew Johnson had died from the wounds he received after Fredrick Carlyle tipped off the newly formed Federation. Johnson had almost destroyed the Federation in its early years.

  Why wait until now? Why wait all these years to get back at the Federation? And just who is Marrow conspiring with? That question really bothered her. And even after a few hours, she couldn’t find anything to reveal the identity of the enemy who was bankrolling the operation. The knowledge that John Marrow was plotting with an unknown enemy for an attack next week was pushing her over the edge. How was she to tell Marcus? She couldn’t lie and say she found evidence against Marrow. She’d have to prove it, and it’d have to stand up in the Federation’s court system.

  There had to be some way to tell Marcus. She knew it would be the hardest thing she’d ever done. To tell the man she loved that his best friend was plotting against him, and that his lover and employee was a para. And she did love him. Shana was sure that over the last eighteen months, she’d been falling in love with him. She didn’t believe in workplace affairs, especially with the boss. Besides that, she’d known of his hatred of paras, so she’d ignored the tingling she felt each time he said her name. Her heart ached at the thought of him turning her over to the authorities. She would have to contact her brother, tell him to make himself scarce and protect their parents.

  As she walked down the carpeted hallway to Marcus’ apartment, the flashes of Marrow’s thoughts simmered in her mind. She shivered as she remembered the lash of menace in his thoughts. Before she reached Marcus’ door, it slid open. Marcus leaned against the doorjamb.

  Her heart skipped a beat and her body warmed. He had rid himself of his jacket and was dressed in only his red silk shirt and black trousers. He’d rolled up the sleeves of the shirt, revealing his muscular forearms.

  “I didn’t think you’d make it.” Playfulness threaded his voice.

  She swallowed and tried to smile. “Hit some traffic on the way over.”

  He reached for her hand and pulled her through the doorway. He locked it by voice command. The dim lighting in the spacious living area and the sensuous Cirian music playing in the background did nothing to calm her nerves. Instead, it heightened them. Her worry and need for Marcus merged.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She turned to look at him. His eyes had darkened with desire and everything else faded away. All the problems at work, her worry about telling him about John Marrow, dissolved into the back recesses of her mind. For just a few hours, she wanted this. She wanted to feel his body next to hers, be warmed by his heat. It would be the last time she’d get the chance for this, and she planned on reaching out with both hands and taking all she could get.

  “Yes, I’m hungry.”

  His smile faded. She tried not to laugh.

  “But not for food.”

  His smiled returned. “I’ll make you pay for that one, Shana.”

  He pulled her down the hall to his bedroom. “I plan on taking all night to bring you to justice.”

  * * * *

  Marcus swallowed his panic. The look on Shana’s face when she first showed up at his apartment had sent every nerve ending in his body on alert. She’d looked so sad, so resigned. As if she’d decided to break off their affair.

  Nothing had ever scared him as much as the thought of never getting to touch her again. Even when he used to fly through firefights, he’d never faced anything as petrifying as living without touching her body, tasting her lips, her sweet juices.

  She stood by the edge of his bed, the same sad, resigned look on her face. Oh, she thought she was hiding the fact that something was wrong, but he knew better. A sliver of ice chilled his stomach. He just couldn’t think of losing her. His need for her had increased tenfold. Before she could say anything, or tell him it was over, he had to prove to her that he was the one for her.

  His heart stopped. That almost sounded as if he wanted a lifetime with her. A lifetime. Usually such thoughts would have him running for the exit. The only thing he wanted now was to wrap his body around hers and not let go.

  He stepped forward and pulled off her gray pullover and tossed it on the floor behind him. His breath caught in his throat. Jesus, the woman never wore undergarments.

  The dim light created shadows against her breasts. The nipples were drawn into tight, rosy buds. He licked his lips, and reached out and brushed his fingers against one puckered tip.

  Shana drew in a shuddering breath that caused her breasts to quiver. His balls drew tighter as his cock pressed against the front of his trousers. Anticipation clawed at his stomach. He wanted her now. He wanted to slide himself inside her wet, warm body and lose himself in her. It was like this every time. Not only a need to conquer but to be conquered. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes.

  He dropped to his knees in front of her and rested his
head against her stomach. The musky scent of her arousal filled his senses, deepening the rising tide of wild passion threatening his control.

  No. No, he had to make this right. He had to prove to Shana this was no ordinary fling. After only one night with her in his bed, he knew he wanted her there, needed her there. It wasn’t a feeling he was comfortable with. He’d resisted the urge to touch her, to seduce her, for so long. Now that he had, he’d become the one who was seduced. Fear twisted into his arousal, urging him to take her, to make her understand the unquenchable need coursing through him.

  He leaned back, unbuttoned her trousers, and helped her out of them. He placed a hand on one of her legs, just above the knee, then slid it up over her thigh. When he reached her sex, her juices drenched his fingers. The anticipation of taking her, of sinking into her tight, wet pussy, raced through him, pushing his control to the very edge.

  He slid a finger into her. Her inner muscles clasped tight around it. Christ. He pulled out and then added another finger. He continued to thrust his fingers as he leaned forward and licked her clitoris. As she moaned her approval, the taste of her exploded in his mouth. The feel of her pussy sent a wave of heat across his senses. He pulled the hardened nub into his mouth, sucking on it, reveling in her response to his touch.

  She speared her hands through his hair, molding her fingers to his head. Her moans grew in volume as her muscles tightened, liquid dripping down his fingers. He slid his other hand around to her ass, skating his fingers down the cleft separating it. She shivered, then her muscles tightened.

  “Marcus.” Convulsions wracked her body as he continued to suck her through her orgasm. The musky scent of her surrounded him as she screamed his name again.

  He looked up as the last of her climax lanced through her. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, with her head thrown back, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Shana when she came.

  He rose to his feet, with his blood pumping through him at hyperspeed, his heart smacking against his ribs, and his cock about to explode.