Skullduggery within skullduggery. Used to keeping secrets, he still found the situation with Ms. Shannigan amusing. Like most others within SIA, he depended on Dorky for her vast knowledge of the natural and the supernatural. Ian wished there had been someone like her when his unit in the army faced similar threats.
As he stepped into the room, the pocket door closed with a secure hiss. His glance came to the sideboard of fruit and pastries, coffee, soda and water. Notepads and pens lay on the table. Tonight he ignored the food and intended to proceed right to business. The team of men and women kept these meetings straight to the point. He’d set a friendly tone for the weekly summits, and he wanted to keep it that way. He hoped his arguments tonight wouldn’t change the mood.
Ian took the chair at the head of the table. “Welcome everyone. Tonight’s emergency meeting will be short.”
“You just want the pastries.” Rebecca Darnley, a seventy-year-old member of the board, grinned at him across the table, then licked frosting off her fingers.
“How did you guess?” he asked.
Gentle laughter filled the room as everyone finished grabbing their food from the sideboard, then settled into their chairs.
Mason Hingle, a balding and slightly pinch-faced, world-class computer genius, said, “I hear you’re wearing an interesting costume to the party Halloween night.”
Okay, so they didn’t want to start off too seriously, apparently. “I don’t know if it’s that interesting. It’s the first costume I’ve worn since I was ten years old, so this is kind of new to me.”
Larina Farrah, a woman of about forty, swept her long black hair out of her eyes. Her liquid voice flowed over the room. “The last head of SIA wore a court jester outfit.”
“I picked a very boring and easy-to-recognize outfit. I’m wearing my old battle dress uniform,” Ian said.
“Poop green or Ode de Desert?” Oliver Greenbush, a former Navy officer, liked to tease Ian good-naturedly about the army.
“Desert. It’s the last BDUs I wore. By the way, you planning on wearing the bubble head outfit?”
Oliver grimaced at the old moniker for submariners. “No way. I left the navy behind ten years ago.”
Ian chuckled. “Guess I’m still prying the military background out my system.” He shrugged. “Of course, I could always wear that medieval costume someone suggested.”
Dorky’s mellow, sexy voice came over the intercom. “Oh, I think you should wear it rather than the uniform. Mess your hair up a little, grow a beard the next two days, and you might make a good Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.”
“Right,” Ian said with a sardonic grin.
“Well, you do sort of look like him,” Dorky said. “Minus the dark hair, of course.”
“Women are always drooling all over that character. You might as well take advantage of it,” Oliver said with hint of disgust.
Rebecca leaned over the table, enthusiasm for the subject spilling over her wrinkled features and into her words. “Good heavens, that’s an excellent idea. You could keep that converter sword with you and no one would be wiser. Not even the other agents.”
“Good point,” Ian said.
An electrical converter sword would be an excellent weapon in case things went to shit at the party and Tyler did something stupid.
Like touching one hair on Synna’s head.
Ian gulped. Damn it, he had it bad. Really bad.
Which costume would draw Synna’s attention?
Ah shit. He really, really had to stop thinking of her like this. Every time he did, his cock ached.
He launched into serious business. “You all know why I called this meeting. I never thought I’d say this, but I thought I’d seen everything when I was in Alpha Unit. We dealt with plenty of creepy stuff, but what we’re facing on Halloween this year is extremely dangerous. At our last meeting, you all proposed we get Synna MacDell involved because the subject has a crush on her. I’m here to tell you that we shouldn’t.”
Everyone in the room, even those munching on food, paused at his words.
“What exactly is your objection?” Darrell MacGraw asked from across the room.
“My objection is the same as it was at the last meeting. She’s not a trained agent, and the subject alone is enough to freak out most anyone.”
A few seconds later debate erupted, pros and cons tossed across the room.
He scribbled notes and waited for the dust to settle before putting forth his argument one more time. “Synna is leaving the SIA in a couple of weeks. We can’t put her in danger.”
“Every member of SIA is in jeopardy at any time from outside forces,” Larina said. “Plus, she hasn’t left the agency yet. She shouldn’t be excluded from duty until she leaves.”
“If she says no, you think I should order her to take on this assignment?” Ian asked.
One by one, every head nodded, and Dorky’s soft voice chimed in at the end. “Yes.”
Disappointment made him frown, but he couldn’t say he was surprised by their stance. “I do this under protest, but I will insist that one thing must happen. She isn’t going anywhere or seeing anyone without me keeping tabs on her. I’m sticking to her like spandex.”
They agreed, and once the meeting ended, the social chatter lasted a few more minutes. After everyone left the room, he recalled that no one had called him the carpet. No one had given him a dirty look over a stolen kiss.
Then he realized Dorky left her intercom open. “Dorky?”
“Yes, Mr. Frasier.”
“You think the Aragorn costume, eh?”
Her seductive laugh filtered over the air. “Oh, most definitely. She’ll like it.”
“Who?”
Her smooth voice continued. “Why, Synna, of course.”
Shit. She must have seen the kiss. “I know you have access to the cameras in her area. I know you have access to all the security cameras. Did you happen to see—?”
“I saw the kiss. Don’t worry. I cleaned up the tape. Wasn’t that a little dangerous kissing her? I mean, Tyler kissed her and then you kissed Synna. Weren’t you worried about transference? If she’s tainted by Tyler’s kiss, couldn’t you be tainted by mouth-to-mouth contact with her? Did you—”
“No tongue.” He laughed.
“Uh-huh. That’s no guarantee.”
“It’s a pretty good one.” Sure. You just couldn’t keep from kissing her, despite the danger.
He heard material shifting, then a chair squeaking. “Are you planning on ratting me out to Level Ten?”
“Your secret is safe with me. Humans can and should fall in love in the workplace. The head can’t always rule the heart.”
Humans? The way she said that word made him wonder what she meant.
Before he could ask, she said, “I’m back to work now. Talk with you tomorrow.”
The intercom disconnected and left him with traitorous thoughts of Synna and her intoxicating taste remaining on his lips.
Ian didn’t want the raging sexual energy he’d felt between them to disappear from his life. Yet, he couldn’t ask her to have a relationship with him while still an employee of the SIA. Being around her, protecting her from Tyler, would take all his energy and concentration. If he wanted to develop his connection with her, he would need to do it without jeopardizing his career or her good name.
* * * * *
Heat seared Ian as he wrestled with a dream that wouldn’t let go.
Synna wore nothing but a lustful gleam in her eye. She stood by his bed, skin gleaming golden under firelight as it danced in the grate. His eyes adjusted to the dimness as he absorbed her beauty. She wandered toward the bed where he laid spread-eagle and awaited her first touch. His cock ached with need, dying to find the tightness between her legs. He could smell her musky arousal, could almost taste it on his tongue. God, how he’d like to spread her long legs and lick her clit. He knew her taste would be creamy and delicious, a sweet heaven he must experience. He licked his lips
and groaned. Nothing would please him more.
Heat rose from the fireplace and the red glow shimmered behind her as she stepped to the side of the bed, then climbed on to straddle him. As she nestled her warm, wet pussy against the side of his cock, Ian gasped. Searing sensations tingled through his body, yearning building as she slid her pussy against him and leaned forward. Her naked breasts pressed against his chest. Hard nipples brushed over his pecs, and he moaned as he reached up to cup the sides of her breasts. Her beguiling smile tortured him as much as the press of her lithe body. She leaned forward and pressed a sizzling kiss to his mouth, and he responded instantly, wanting her taste. Minty and fresh, her mouth brushed over his again and again. He shivered, unable to hide his reaction. He lifted his hips, wanting to slide his heat high and tight into her depths.
“Please, baby,” he murmured against her mouth. “Take me. I’ve got to have you.”
She laughed, the sound gentle as her hands drifting up to cup his face. As his touch found her hips, she lifted and slid down over his cock until her heat encompassed his rock-hard erection.
He groaned and writhed beneath her, shifting his hips upward and starting a pumping motion. Liquid heat moved up and down upon him, tight and silky. His motion quickened as she rode him. He heard her soft moans, the little whimpers in her throat that signaled her enjoyment and it set him off.
He wanted her in this moment and forever.
Ian broke out of the dream with a start. In the dim light from a night light in the bathroom, he half expected to see Synna walking toward him. His cock stood hard and angry. Fuck it. He needed release.
His hand wrapped around his cock, and he hissed in a breath. Oh yeah. That was better. Not as hot and silky like Synna’s depths would feel when he got into her. He closed his eyes and imagined the scenario in his dream in full detail. With slow, steady strokes, he satisfied his need. He used the pre-cum from the tip of his cock to moisten his glide. He fisted his grip tighter around the rigid flesh.
She’d be so hot, so incredible, so tight. Her breasts would feel soft and round against his chest, her nipples aroused and begging for his touch. As her hips moved, she’d lowered her breasts over his mouth. He tongued them, first one and then the other. She would moan as he suckled her nipples without mercy.
From dream to the fantasy, he fell straight into another world. His cock grew harder by the second, his fist moving up and down until the pleasure tightening his loins demanded fulfillment. He moaned continuously until he roared out a bone-melting climax. His cock jerked as long streams of cum spurted from him. Ian panted through his mouth as his heartbeat slowed from a frantic pace.
“Shit, Frasier, you haven’t done that in a long time.”
At least, not until he met Synna MacDell. Now he swore he could jack off every night and it wouldn’t eliminate the longing that invaded his body and his mind.
Chapter Three
Synna arrived at the parking garage by six-thirty the next morning and sat in her car for another five minutes trying to resurrect her nerve. Since her encounter last night with Ian, self-conscious obsessions had assaulted her. At one time, lack of confidence held her back from life, but she’d conquered that long ago. Old insecurities threatened to roar back to life.
Ian’s kiss had sent her world into a tailspin. She hadn’t slept well last night. She replayed the kiss inside her head to the point of nauseating tedium.
“You are insane,” she whispered.
She should be more concerned about this strange meeting with Ian and with what happened with Tyler yesterday. She took several deep, steadying breaths to clear her head.
As she looked around the parking structure, she felt a creepy sense that someone watched her. Hairs all over her body prickled with awareness. Danger seemed to lurk in every innocent corner. Like a phobic, she let the panic take her to wild places in her mind to horrific scenarios.
“Snap out of it,” she said aloud. “This isn’t like you.”
She took another deep breath to steady overactive nerves and left her car for Division Two. She stopped by her cubicle to dump off her trench coat and her small black organizer handbag. Thank God, no one else seemed insane enough arrive at work in her section this early. She quickened her pace and headed for the elevator.
Anxiety made her hesitate as she headed for the elevator. She’d taken an extra fifteen minutes this morning standing in her walk-in closet trying to decide what to wear. Pants? A suit? She’d settled on a comfortable ensemble she didn’t have the guts to wear until this morning. The outfit included a form-fitting ruby red top with a scoop neck, three-quarter sleeves, and a calf-length black skirt that arrowed close to her body. Stretchy material slicked along her curves in a way that said sexy without screaming slut. Black hose and modest-heeled black pumps completed the picture. She’d taken time with her makeup and hair, leaving the flowing waves streaming over her shoulders. A set of orb-shaped plain onyx earrings and matching necklace almost completed the picture. She also wore her signature rings, a large amethyst on her right hand and a swirling pinky ring of white, pink, and yellow gold on her left hand.
She felt like a million and a half bucks, but as she stepped into the elevator she wondered what possessed her. Why had she gone to so much more effort than before? Sure, she dressed professionally for work every day, but today she’d dressed like she’d planned a date with Ian.
Heat flushed her face as she pushed the button for his floor. Oh boy. She’d done it. She wanted to please a man, and she hadn’t done that in so long she couldn’t recall the last time.
You’ve lost your mind, Synna.
Ian Frasier found her attractive or he wouldn’t have kissed her, but he also seemed to truly like women on the whole. One kiss didn’t mean he wanted her to have his babies.
Sexual stirrings coiled tightly in her stomach at the thought. The idea of having a man’s baby had never stirred sexual feelings inside her before, until now.
Oh God. I have it bad.
All her senses heightened, working toward a fiery meltdown of anticipation.
Aroused.
Dying for his kiss.
When the elevator door dinged, she started. Several people tried piling on the elevator before she could exit, and two of the men in the group gave her a blatant once-over. Now she knew her clothes could attract a man’s attention. What would it do to Ian? She pushed passed the people crowding into the elevator and into the hallway.
As she hurried toward his office, she wondered why he couldn’t have asked her opinion when he came to her cubicle last night? What could be so important?
She arrived at the large mahogany double doors on the first floor that held his offices. As she entered, she noted the reception desk where his secretary normally sat was empty. The door to his office stood open, and she heard the faint tones of smooth jazz. She started to call out when he walked through the door and they collided.
Synna would have bounced off him, but he caught her upper arms in a gentle grip. Plastered chest to thigh against Ian, she felt the heat and hardness in his big frame. Her breath caught in her throat, pleasure rousing inside her at his closeness.
Flustered, she said, “Oh, I’m s-sorry.”
“No problem.” His smile, a little cocky and teasing, curved his gorgeous mouth. “I was about to start a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”
She shook her head. “None for me, thanks. I’ve had too much already.”
“Maybe I’ll skip it for now, too. You’re early.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Story of my life. I’m chronically early.”
“Sounds like a great habit to me.”
His hands slid up to her shoulders, and the hot imprint of his touch through her top made her feel vulnerable. His eyes burned into hers, and for a moment, her pulse fluttered and she couldn’t get her breath.
He hadn’t shaved, and the shadow along his jawline, along with his hair hanging loose around his shoulders, gave him an untamed edge
that screamed sexy. His subtle scent made all her desires arise and take notice. He smelled so delicious. His gaze did an almost imperceptible sweep down to her breasts, and yet the intensity of his attention felt like a brand. Male appreciation flashed through the ocean depths in his eyes, then flickered out.
He let her go, and she didn’t know whether to rejoice or wish he still touched her. “How is your knee?”
“It’s fine. There isn’t much of a bruise.”
She lifted the hemline of her skirt to show him. The darker bruise showed through the sheer black hose. Heat sluiced through her as his attention traveled down her body to reach her knee instead of skipping right to the injured area.
Then his interest changed as his lips tightened. “That’s not a little bruise.”
She shrugged. “It’ll be fine in a few days.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look too pleased. “Please come in.”
She wandered into his office after him, and tried not to ogle his ass like a lovesick teenager. This morning he wore a deep copper sweater that skimmed along his muscled torso enough to reveal serious development of biceps and forearms. Along his rib cage, the sweater hugged his torso down to his flat stomach. Black pants made his legs look even longer. She felt tiny against his undeniable brawn. He made her feel feminine down to her shoes.
His large office had no windows, but he’d left on a lamp near a loveseat at one end of the room, and another small green banker’s lamp glowed on his desk. Recessed lighting in the ceiling also warmed the room. He’d changed a few things from the last administrator to hold this post. He’d furnished the area with light wood furniture, Swedish influence and Mission design in a combination eclectic but exquisite. Though modern, the décor held warmth she wouldn’t have expected.
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