She smiled up at him. “I did it for me. I felt self-conscious about those scars for my entire life. I’ve never worn a sleeveless dress in my life either.”
He kissed her nose, praying to God she was telling the truth. That the painful work was for her, not for him.
“And I didn’t do anything more than you can see. I figured if I did my shoulders, I would have one hundred times more confidence. Maybe some other time I’ll do more, but for now, I just wanted to do what people could readily see if I wore something sleeveless. It feels…so sexy to dress in spaghetti straps.”
Emotions welled up inside him. He loved that she felt better about herself. He settled his hands on her cheeks, lifted her face, and kissed her. Thoroughly.
She leaned into him, moaning into his mouth. And then she shocked him by climbing onto his lap, straddling him, and deepening the kiss.
They remained that way for a long time while he ran his hands up and down her back. She no longer flinched when he did so. She could even make love with the lights on. She rarely tried to hide herself from him. They’d even showered together a few times.
But, damn. If the tattoos made her feel better about herself, he was all for it. He’d do anything for her.
When he finally broke the kiss, he found a very sultry look in her eyes.
Her hands went to the button on his jeans, making him suck in a sharp breath. His cock was hard, but did she really intend to have sex right here? Outside? He glanced in the direction of the house.
“No one is going to bother us,” she whispered.
She’d thought of everything. He set his hands on her thighs and pushed the material of her dress upward, moaning when he realized she wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. “Bianca…”
“Mmm,” she responded as she lowered his zipper.
He lifted his hips enough to tug his jeans over his erection.
Her hands cupped his face as she settled her wet, warm center against his length. “You always take such good care of me. Let me take care of you for a change.”
He swallowed as he slid his hands up her back and grasped her bare shoulders. “I will never argue with a woman wearing nothing but a sundress.”
She lifted a brow. “Let’s not get carried away. Stick with just this one woman.”
He smiled as he smoothed one hand down, tugged her dress out of the way, and found her clit with his fingers.
She gasped, her eyes rolling back, her fingers digging into his biceps, her mouth falling open, her neck elongating. Yeah, he loved how she took care of him.
When she started rocking back and forth against his cock, he gritted his teeth. He was close to coming without entering her. That was often the case when they were together. The woman twisted him into knots just with her expressions.
Suddenly, she lifted herself up a few inches, lined her opening up with his erection, and drove down onto him. Her moan filled the air. Music.
He continued stroking her clit while holding her shoulder with his other palm.
When she lifted up and then thrust back down again, he was the one to groan. Damn, she felt good. And so full of surprises.
She arched her body, her head tipping back as she rode him.
He’d give anything to have her naked so he could watch her breasts bounce over him like this, but he wouldn’t take that chance with the farmhouse so close.
Again and again she rose and fell over his cock. He finally had to release her shoulder and grip her hip to keep her from moving anymore. He was in serious danger of coming before she reached her own peak. And that was not going to happen.
She moaned again. “Gray…” Her eyes met his. Her face was flushed.
He held her steady and circled her clit with a finger. When she licked her lips, he flanked the little bundle of nerves with two fingers and rapidly flicked it with the center one.
“Oh God,” she exclaimed. Her body started shaking.
Lord, she was gorgeous right before she came.
He flicked faster as he set his lips against hers. “Come for me, baby.”
Her breath hitched as her pussy gripped his length with her orgasm.
Before the orgasm subsided, she batted his hand away from her hip and started bouncing over him again. Fast, hard thrusts he knew would turn one orgasm into two for her.
So, he planted his hand behind him to keep his balance and let Bianca ride him to completion. His own vision swam as he tipped over the edge right alongside her.
Heaven.
Nothing would ever compare to the way he felt when he was with her.
For several moments he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, and then she started giggling.
“What’s so funny?” he murmured against her mouth.
“We just made love in broad daylight outside.”
He smiled. “Indeed we did. And I’d like nothing more than to get you back to the house so we can do it again in the comfort of our bed.”
She leaned back, grinning mischievously as she eased off his lap. Her face was flushed, and she didn’t meet his gaze as she opened the picnic basket. “We should eat. I made us a picnic.”
“Then can we go back to the farmhouse? I’d like to see this new ink better,” he teased.
She giggled again. “I’ll be happy to show you more of it. Later. In our room.”
“Can’t wait.” He leaned closer and started pulling out containers.
“It’ll cost a small fortune to do my entire back, but maybe someday I’ll be able to wear a bikini,” she suggested, smiling like she’d won the lottery.
He hesitated pulling out food and reached for her hand. “No amount of money is too much to make you happy, as long as you’re doing it for you. Not for me.”
She tipped her head to one side. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you’ll love me no matter what. Trust me, it’s for me.”
“Good. Because I do love you. It’s unconditional. And I don’t care what scars you have.” He grabbed her chin and kissed her again.
“I love you too. Now let’s eat so we can get back to the house spend some more time exploring that new position. I rather enjoyed it.” She winked at him. Winked.
Grayson grabbed her around the waist and tossed her onto her back. He lowered his lips and kissed her senseless. He certainly agreed about her riding him. It was hot. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He enjoyed any and every position with her. They really did need to stuff this food down so they could get back to the house. He wanted to be alone with her. As soon as possible.
And often.
For the rest of their lives.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this sixth book in the Project DEEP series. Please enjoy the following excerpt from Reviving Olivia, the last book in the series.
Damon jerked awake, confused for several seconds about where he was and what had woken him before he sat up straight and twisted toward Olivia.
She was staring at him with wide eyes, licking her lips.
“You’re awake.” He scrambled off the bed and rounded to her side before reaching for her wrist to check her pulse out of habit.
She jerked her hand out of his grip, surprising him with her strength. “Who are you? And where am I?” Her voice was weak, but stronger than any of the other many patients he’d been with when they first awoke.
“I’m Dr. Damon Bardsley. I’ve been taking care of you.”
She frowned. “Am I sick?”
Shit. He hadn’t really been able to figure out what he would say to her, mostly because he hadn’t been able to imagine what she might ask. He shook his head.
“Was I in an accident?” She glanced down at her body. “I don’t have any broken bones.” She tried to lift her head and gave up, dropping back to the bed. “Why am I so weak?”
“You’ve been in a coma.” It was the easiest first thing to tell her.
Her gaze jerked to his again. “Why?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, cringin
g. “It’s a long story.”
She tugged at his heartstrings unexpectedly. Her long thick brown hair was fanned out on the pillow from her effort to lift her head. But what really got to him was her eyes. A clear green that held his attention. So wide.
She nodded slowly. “It would seem I’ve got some time. I can’t even lift my head. Start talking.”
He swallowed. “You’ll only be able to stay awake a few minutes this first time. Next time you wake up, you’ll be more lucid.”
“My mind is perfectly clear now, and I’m not tired. How long was I in a coma?”
“A month.” It wasn’t a lie.
She gasped. “I’ve been asleep a month?”
He cringed inwardly, already knowing she was going to freak the fuck out. “How about you tell me what you last remember?” If he turned the tables so that she was the one doing the talking, it might help buy him time until she grew too tired to stay awake. Though she showed no signs of being weary.
She scrunched up her eyes as if to think. It was cute. He got the feeling her face would often look like that when she concentrated.
Why the hell are you thinking she’s cute?
“I’m a nurse. I work in a government bunker.” She opened her eyes abruptly again. “I’m Dr. Boyden’s nurse. Where is he?” She glanced around again. “Where am I?” she repeated.
“You’re in a studio apartment. Dr. Boyden is still at the bunker.” That was true, though Damon was digging a deeper hole for himself by the moment with all his half-truths.
“Why? Why am I not at the bunker or in a hospital?”
“Long story,” he said for the second time. Why didn’t she go back to sleep so he could have a few hours to figure out what to say? Or fuck, why hadn’t he planned this better?
She narrowed her gaze at him. “I’m starting to think you’ve kidnapped me.”
Damon smiled. “Hardly. You’ve been very boring for the last month. In my memoir, I’ll recommend that no one ever kidnap a coma patient. They aren’t very entertaining.”
She narrowed her gaze again. “Are you seriously trying to be funny right now?”
“Yeah?” Apparently it wasn’t a good choice however.
“Dr. Bardsley, is it?”
“Yes. But you should call me Damon. We’re sort of stuck here together. I’d rather be on a first name basis.”
“Fine. Damon. Please fill in a few holes before I start screaming for help.”
He straightened to his full height. That was the worst thing she could do. Finally, he shook his head. “Please don’t scream. We’re on the fourth floor of a poorly constructed apartment building. The last thing we need is for someone to call the police.”
“Then I suggest you start talking.” She pushed herself back a few inches with her hands, impressing him again with her strength. He’d assumed she would need the same kind of recuperation time as everyone else, but he hadn’t factored in that she hadn’t been sick when she was preserved. She hadn’t been in any sort of weakened state, nor had she required drugs during the last month to cure her of any disease. She was glaring at him now, her lips parting, reminding him she had threatened to scream.
He covered her mouth as gently as he could manage. “We’re hiding. And you’re going to have to trust me because you don’t have any other options right now. Something happened in that bunker, and I’m hoping you know more than I do because I have very few details to go on.”
She licked her lips as he removed his hand slowly, watching her closely.
Then he continued, opting to give her a broader picture of their predicament in order to keep her from freaking out. “There’s another government bunker in Colorado, larger than the one you worked at. Were you aware of that?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t know anything. Our bunker is like a fortress. Everything is a secret. I don’t have the clearance to do anything except care for Dr. Boyden, and that man isn’t going to live much longer. I’m surprised he lasted a month if that’s how long I’ve been in a coma.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
She glanced at the ceiling. “I’m not sure. It’s foggy. As if it were a long time ago. Maybe I have some sort of temporary amnesia or something? Is that possible?”
“Yes. But probably you’ll start to piece it together in the next few days.” He prayed that would be the case. “Anyway, the important thing for you to understand right now is that everyone who worked in those two bunkers is in danger.”
“Why?”
“No one is sure yet, but a team of people is working on it. Meanwhile, you and I need to lie low and keep from being found.” He had no idea if Blue Cell was interested in him, in particular. He hadn’t been on the original team. He hadn’t been one of the preserved.
But Olivia… There was no way to be sure Blue Cell wasn’t after her. Damon had no idea how she fit in to the puzzle, or if her reanimation would be something Blue Cell cared about.
“You can’t just hold me hostage in his apartment, Damon. Your story is hard to process.”
“I know, but please give me a chance. I promise you I have no ulterior motives.” He held out both hands. “I want out of here far worse than you do. I’ve been here alone for a month.” He rubbed his face. He hadn’t shaved often in that month and not for several days this time.
“Who is after us?” she asked wearily.
“A subversive government organization called Blue Cell.” There was no reason she shouldn’t be as informed as possible. One way or another, she was in this with him now. “We don’t know what they want or why they’re hunting us down, but they have a lot of manpower, and staying one step ahead of them is a full-time job.”
She gasped again. “Has anyone been killed?”
“Not yet. Not from either of our bunkers, at least.”
Finally her shoulders relaxed. “You better not be bullshitting me, Damon Bardsley. I may be small, but I’ve taken self-defense classes. I can take you,” she threatened.
It was impossible not to grin at her declaration. Did she not realize she wouldn’t be able to take on a toddler at this point? “Yes, ma’am,” he responded. “There is a lot I still need to tell you, but please trust me when I say you need to absorb this a bit at a time. You’re going to be confused and forgetful for a few days.”
She cocked her head to one side. “I really don’t feel confused.”
“I can see that, and it’s disconcerting. But, Olivia—” Before he could utter another syllable, something happened. Something that freaked Damon the fuck out.
Olivia’s face completely changed, slackening so that her features relaxed far too much. And her eyes glazed over before they began to focus on something across the room instead of Damon. But that wasn’t the weirdest part. What she said and the unusual tone of her voice made him feel like he’d stepped onto the set of Poltergeist. “Samara.” The pitch was nothing like she’d used so far. Deep, like a man’s.
“Olivia?”
She sank deeper into the strange trance. “Samara. Samara. Samara.”
He hadn’t read anything in her file about anyone named Samara, or even anyone at all in her life. “Who is Samara?”
Instead of answering him, her eyes rolled back into her head and then closed. She continued to mumble the name as she fell into a deep sleep. “Samara, Samara, Samara…”
Damon took a step back, rubbing his arms as she slumped into complete sleep. She even looked peaceful.
Damon stared at her for a long time, afraid she might bolt to sitting, and her head might spin around backward. It was that nerve-wracking.
Finally, he backed up, slowly, quietly, not wanting to disturb her. When he reached the coffee table, he snagged his burner phone off the surface and dialed one of two numbers he knew by heart.
Dade answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Damon said.
“How’s it going? Is she awake?”
“She was.” How the hell coul
d he possibly explain what had just happened? “And then something very strange happened and she got all crazy on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she’s not like anyone else I’ve watched come out of their coma. She’s far stronger and more lucid than any of you were. Probably because she wasn’t sick then, and she’s not sick now.”
“Makes sense. I just assumed ten years in a cryostat made us all rather weak.”
“Me too.”
“But she went back to sleep eventually?”
“Yes, but not before turning into some sort of alien.” Damon ran a hand through his hair, inching toward the far wall while he kept his gaze on Olivia. She hadn’t moved a single muscle since she fell back asleep. Still, he shuddered, not trusting her. It wouldn’t shock him if she rose off the bed and floated across the room at the moment.
“Damon? What are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure.” Had he imagined it? “One moment she was completely coherent and talking to me. The next moment she was in a kind of trance.” He jerked taller, an idea coming to him. “Maybe she was preserved for something mental, instead of a physical disease.”
That idea did not sit well with him. Damon had no experience with mental health at all. If Olivia had been vitrified for some psychological diagnosis, he would never be able to handle things on his own.
“I guess it’s possible. Tell me what she said.”
Damon pursed his lips, trying to recall the name she kept repeating. “She started mumbling some girl’s name over and over again. Does the name Samara ring a bell to you?”
There was a moment of silence, and then Dade started rambling off a string of numbers in a voice that sounded nothing like his own, a voice eerily similar to the one Oliva had used to repeatedly say Samara. “Eight, four, nine, six, two, eight, three, three.”
“What? Are you talking to someone else?” Damon shuddered.
Reviving Bianca Page 17