His hand settled on her bare hip, then moved down her thigh. His chuckle was rough and strained. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “Do we have to stop?”
“That’s up to you.”
“I want to try again,” she decided. “But no blindfold.”
He looked uncertain.
“Please,” she added. “I want to experiment and see if I have a talent too.” His hand was still on her thigh, sending a subtle vibration through her. She flexed her hips and he groaned, moving both of his hands to the table and pressing them flat. She clung to him for balance.
“Audrey.”
She looked up. Sparks flew from his eyes and landed on her cheeks like pixie dust. She reached up to touch them. “Audrey,” he ground out again. “Please get off my lap and get back on the table.”
“Oh! Sorry.” She slid to the floor and he stood up, taking several quick steps away from her. Was it bad form to be happy she had such an extreme effect on him? She crawled up on the table again, this time even more aware of the sexy sway of her ass and breasts, hoping he was watching her. She heard him cursing under his breath and she grinned.
This time, when he strapped her legs to the table, he placed them far apart.
“What’s your safeword?” he asked.
“Red.”
“And how do you feel now?’
“Green.”
She heard a whirring sound and lifted her head. The monitors, right. All normal. She admired his tattoo again as he walked across the room. It made her think of his gunpowder scent and the sparks in his eyes. He pulled a length of silver wire from a drawer and she watched it spool from his hand. She lowered her head into the padded rest and closed her eyes, waiting for the whip.
When it came, she wasn’t ready. His first blow cracked across her shoulders, more sound than pain. She jumped, a ripple of tense muscle. If she hadn’t been strapped down, reaction would have knocked her off the table. Her back buzzed with hundreds of racing impulses. She waited for the next strike. It didn’t come.
“Green,” she said impatiently, anxious for the swarm of angry dragonflies to land. He hit her again. She felt her skin coming to life, singing and crying for more intense vibrations. He gave them to her, working the whip down the length of her back, over her butt and thighs. There was music in this, a pattern of blows, the crack of the whip, and underneath it, the steady rumble of thunder. Light flashed on her eyelids. She felt a drumbeat in her sternum, pressed against the table. Could he hear it too? He must be able to hear it, to feel it. He was the one creating it.
She flowed with the beat, letting the music take her up and down. If she could have moved, she would have swayed to the irresistible rhythm that begged her to follow it. A teasing buzz between her legs sent her dancing over the edge. Another beat caught her attention as she felt fingers slide in and out of her body, sending her flying toward a second crescendo. She couldn’t move, and yet she was spinning, flying out of control over peak after peak. Her body pulsed in time with the orgasms that shook her inner flesh in an endless symphony of sensation.
Abruptly, the music stopped.
She cried out, reaching for more with immobile arms, running with legs held fast. A spasm racked her body, thwarted from reaching its goal. “Shh, wait,” she heard, and realized she was whimpering, sobbing, begging.
The table shifted beneath her. She felt air swirl between her legs. She tried to remember the sequence of events he had laid out for her. A beating, fingers…tongue, yes.
She no longer felt music, but her body was still singing. Her vibrator at home could not compare to the warm, wet buzz moving through her core, commanding her attention, claiming her entire being. He suckled gently at her clit and she wished she could see what his mouth looked like against her. He moved faster and she was no longer able to shape a thought except more, more, which he gave her until the sound of her screams eclipsed the hum of her body and she came hard against his mouth, so violently that it felt like her clenching muscles would vibrate hard and fast forever.
Cool air again. She sensed him moving away from her. A shudder shook her, pinned as she was to the table. She felt as if she were coming out of REM sleep, shuddering with involuntary reaction as aftershocks of energy coursed through her body. She had no control; she was locked in the moment.
Something pressed against her inner thighs. Then the head of him entered her body. She greeted the music with a scream of rapture.
He pulled away. “Safeword?”
What was her safeword? How could she get him to do that again? And again? With profound relief, she remembered.
The word was muffled, but she’d said green. A good thing. He was dead level steady after pouring an ungodly amount of electricity into her accommodating body, but he was dying to get inside her. The heart monitor had graphed normal rhythms and the EEG patterns were normal, too, so he’d carried on long past the point he usually stopped with other subs. His whip strikes on her back had started out as a grid, but then he’d filled it in with diagonal lines. The pattern had begun to tessellate and he’d gotten caught up in the ecstasy of her near-constant climaxes until he’d run out of room on her back.
He pulled his gloves onto his hands. He was pretty certain he was only feeling the natural arousal of a male for a woman, not the unnatural wired-up need to discharge energy, but he still wasn’t taking any chances. He kept his pants between their thighs and only entered her as far as the edge of the condom allowed. He gripped her ass with his gloved hands and worked his cock in and out of her body.
Again, no dangerous activity on the monitors. She was unbelievable. He settled his feet flat on the floor and surrendered to the white-hot flash of energy barreling up and outward, keeping one eye on the monitors until his vision blurred, blued. He saw sparks and heard thunder. The acrid smell of ozone smoke drifted through the air. His world caught fire, and he let it burn, excruciating. Electric. He was aware, even as his climax exploded through him, that it had never been like this.
When he could move again, he locked his knees to keep from falling forward onto her body. He took a halting step back and shucked the condom into the trash can. He fastened his pants. Weaving a bit, he grabbed another leather coat from his rack and shrugged into it before he approached the table and stripped the restraints from her body. She moaned. Her eyes were shut.
Gently, he rolled her over and gathered her into his arms. He carried her to the couch and sat down with her on his lap. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
She opened one eye. “If you have to ask, you’re doing it wrong.”
He chuckled and hugged her, careful to keep leather between them.
Both of her eyes opened. “You don’t scare me, you know.” She grabbed his head and pulled it down. He twisted out of her grasp. Hurt flashed in her dark eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he protested. “I’ve never kissed a girl before. You terrify me.”
She looked appeased. “I let you strap me to a table and tickle me with a wire—don’t tell me I scare you.”
“Tickle? Did you just say tickle? I zapped you with enough energy to run the house for a week—don’t tell me it didn’t hurt you.”
She shook her head. “Didn’t hurt.”
“You might change your mind when you see your back.”
She craned her neck to look over her shoulder. His gaze dropped to her breast, now thrust in his face. He licked her nipple. She gasped and scrambled out of his lap. “How come you can touch me but I can’t touch you?”
“Because I’m paying attention when I touch you. I keep the current controlled. You do not want to surprise me.” She stood in front of him, which put her pussy at eye level. He looked, naturally, then laughed as she dashed across the room for her clothes. “A little late for modesty, don’t you think?”
“Easy for you to say. I haven’t seen you naked yet.”
He watched her dress with the same surgical
precision with which she had stripped an hour ago. He took her hand and tugged her toward the stairs.
“You promised to show me the lab,” she protested.
“After dinner. I’m starving. Text your brother while I check out what’s in the fridge.”
She doubled back to grab her purse. “What did you see on the heart monitors?” she asked as she sent the text.
“Normally, the levels stay pretty low for a first session with a new sub. Progressive sessions build electricity in the muscles, almost like stored energy. It’s the basis for my bioelectrical enhancer research, but it’s damn hard on my sex life. I can’t work with a sub more than a half dozen times before it gets dangerous. I always have to find someone new.” Best to get that out there. He didn’t want her to form an attachment to him. “Your levels stayed within normal limits.”
“Normal or normal limits with a new sub?”
“Normal,” he said. “But I don’t know what that means. You haven’t manifested any kind of power?”
She shook her head.
“Have you tried?”
She snorted. “I’ve tried everything I could think of. I jumped off the shed to see if I could fly. I burned my arm playing with fire. I nearly drowned myself in the bathtub trying to breathe underwater, which was bad enough, but then Jake beat the hell out of me for being so stupid. The only thing remotely unusual about me is that Jake can’t make me do things.”
“And Sam can’t mess with your head.”
“Nope.”
“And my electrons don’t hurt you.”
“Definitely not.”
The sly grin on her face made him hard again, but he refused to be distracted. “Do you think you’re a neutral? Maybe other talents don’t affect you?”
“What kind of a lame power is that? That’s like an anti-talent, worse than having no talent at all.” She frowned, picking up her abandoned water glass on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.
“Oh, I don’t know. It works out well for me.” Cal opened the fridge to hide his own scowl. Of course she was disappointed. She wasn’t in this for the kink. It had been an experiment, a failed experiment from her perspective, a potentially life-changing event from his perspective. He stared into the crisper without focusing on a single vegetable.
“Do you know any other talents? Can I experiment with them?” She was moving on already. Ironically, that was usually his role.
“We can talk to my friend Truman. He knows when people are lying.”
She snorted. “Truman can sense a liar? How did his parents know about his talent in time to give him such an apropos name?”
“He never knew them. In fact, he doesn’t remember much about his childhood. He literally grew up on the streets of Hudson. I’ve never asked him about his name, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked it himself.” Since Truman had scoped her out in the bar, that meant he could read her. Cal said nothing—she already seemed disappointed enough. He didn’t want to twist the knife. “Let me know the next time you get a boo-boo. I’ll call the Doc,” he offered. “We’ll see if she can fix you up.”
“Thanks.”
“Eggs okay?” he asked.
She nodded, and he began assembling the ingredients for a breakfast burrito. He had an excellent zucchini and tomato gratin and a couple of baked potatoes left over from last night. He shook off his disappointment. It was hypocritical to warn her that he didn’t form relationships and then get all heartbroken when she left him in the dust.
“Can I do anything to help?” she asked.
“No, I’ve got it. I’m just going to scramble some eggs and wrap them up with the zucchini. Fry some potatoes. Sound good?”
She nodded, still looking glum.
“It didn’t hurt at all?” he asked, brushing a hand down her back.
“Nope.”
“I’ll have to try harder next time. Like I said, the effects are cumulative. I think we should continue our study of your response.” Electrons leapt inside him, as if they were as eager to play with her again as he was.
“Tonight?” Audrey tried to look cool. He had made her think there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter what he said about being a science geek, the man was hot and a sex god to boot. She had too much pride to chase after him if he was giving her the brush-off, but if he still wanted to experiment, she certainly wouldn’t turn him down. Maybe further experiments would produce more data, because this one had been a total bust. Why did that make her want to cry? She’d lived without talent her whole life. She should be used to it.
Cal scraped scrambled eggs onto tortillas. “Any time you are willing. Although I think you should get some rest first. I find I have endless energy for you.” He gave her that stunning smile again before he turned his attention back to their midnight snack.
She realized she was still staring at him a few minutes later when he presented her with a burrito, crunchy fried potatoes and fruit salad.
“Wow,” she said, pretending she was talking about the food. “This looks wonderful.”
“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked.
She nodded. “Except for a lunch date.”
“Would you like to get together after lunch, then?”
“Possibly. Can I call you? I don’t know how long I’ll be.” She speared a strawberry, hoping he wouldn’t think she was blowing him off.
“Of course. I’ll give you my card.” His self-deprecating smile told her he also thought it was a funny thing to say after what they had just done together. “It will be interesting to see how you respond to higher voltages, other metals, maybe a few probes.” His eyes danced with sparks and desire stirred inside her, making her wonder exactly how much of his energy she could handle. If she heard music when he was in control, what would she feel if he let go? A full-body orchestra?
She swallowed. “Do not turn me on and kill my appetite for this beautiful meal.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”
“Definitely not.”
They finished the meal in charged silence. Afterward, he waved away her offer to help with the dishes and walked her to the door, dimming the lights as they reached the hall.
“Are you up for a quick experiment?” he asked.
“Always.”
He had shed the leather coat while he was cooking. Now he reached into the hall closet and pulled a long-sleeved turtleneck over his head. “I want to kiss you goodnight, but you have to promise not to touch me.”
Her heart slammed in her chest. She nodded, stood waiting, dying.
His mouth pressed briefly against hers, as if he were testing their connection. His lips were soft and his breath faintly smoky. She flattened her palms against the door. “Can I kiss you back?” she whispered against his lips.
He nodded and she took the lead, opening her mouth. Her tongue sought his. Pure lust crackled through her, making her head buzz and her ears ring. Blue fire flashed behind her closed lids and she opened her eyes. She held his gaze, so close, transfixed by his brilliant blue eyes.
His hands slammed into the door on either side of her head, holding his body away from her as his mouth moved roughly over hers. Energy swelled between them, a tangible force. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the melody.
Abruptly, the music cut off.
He pushed away from her, taking a few stumbling steps backward, and grabbed the banister for support.
“Um, hmm.” She blinked at him, pressing her fingers to her tingling lips. “That was…something.” She waved a vague hand at the space between them, which still seemed to vibrate with potential energy, hoping he would infer her question from the charged air between them.
He licked his lips and she moved toward him, wanting more. “For a woman who claims to have no interest in kink, you submit beautifully.”
She stopped. Was that what she had been doing? Submitting? She forced the logical part of her brain to start working again. Under normal circumstances, would she allow herself to b
e so easily overpowered? Would she walk toward fire while the air turned blue and smoke rose in the air? Hell no—she’d run the other way.
He cleared his throat. “It’s only natural that you would feel some residual effects from our session.”
Residual effects? She would have thrown herself at him and let him incinerate her. “Is this what BDSM is like? Is that why people do it?”
“Sometimes,” he said, walking toward her again.
She took a step back toward the door, determined to show some self-preservation, but when his finger traced a tingling line down her cheek, a soft sigh huffed out of her throat and she leaned into his touch.
“But it isn’t always this intense,” he admitted.
He pressed a card into her palm. “Text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe. And don’t forget to let your brother know you made it out of Bluebeard’s cave alive.”
He opened the door and she stepped outside, not surprised when a porch light flickered on above her head. When she reached her car, more lights lit the driveway and fairy lights twinkled in the trees as she drove away. In the darkness of her car, she felt a stupid grin spread across her face. She sighed.
Calvin Davis was dangerous, all right—just not in the way he thought.
Chapter Seven
Cal awoke Sunday morning and stared at the ceiling.
Audrey’s touch, her kiss, had been stunning. Phenomenal. It had been all he could do to keep from taking her against the door, God help him. He hadn’t wanted to let her go.
Like hell she was vanilla. Life couldn’t be that cruel. He’d attributed the intensity between them to BDSM, but what else was he going to say? I think you might be the only woman I can touch. Are you the love of my life? No, that wouldn’t be weird at all.
She had to have talent. There was no way a normal human could have withstood the current he’d pumped into her last night. His monitors would have picked up on the slightest degree of physical or mental distress, and the readout had been dead-level normal. He had to find out if she was a neutral, but he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation that would give him more information.
Power Trip: Double Helix, Book 1 Page 5