JAKE SWUNG OPEN the door, prepared to shove whoever was outside away with an excuse that he and Tara were settling in, only to find Samuel waiting for him. Shit. Clearly, Owen was already suspicious of them, but Jake couldn’t see what they might have done differently if they hoped to gain any kind of traction in the investigation.
“Samuel,” he said with a nod. “How can I help you?”
“I just stopped by to be sure you didn’t find any hidden cameras in your new home.” A decided smirk crossed the man’s face as he stepped inside without invitation. His eyes went to the bathroom door. “What in the name of the Powers? Are you trying to turn this place into a sauna? That’s an inappropriate use of our resources!”
He stomped to the bathroom and pushed the door wide. Tara looked up at him from the floor. “Bea wasn’t feeling well,” she said calmly, and Jake felt a surge of completely unwarranted pride. God, she’s good. Strong, smart, beautiful.
“We thought the steam might help her feel better,” Kevin added.
“You’re sick, Bea?”
“Yes. No. I c-can still do what is needed of me.”
Samuel leaned in and shut off the shower. “Perhaps you ought to come to the infirmary and let Deborah have a look at you.”
“No! I mean, I’ll be fine. I just need to lie down.” Jake could see the panic in her eyes, and he felt an echo of it in himself. She knew who they were. If Deborah got hold of her and plied her with drugs, it was all over.
Tara, bless her, completely ignored Samuel. “Let’s get you into bed,” she said to Bea. She and Kevin helped the woman to her feet and hustled her out the opposite door.
“Perhaps Deborah could come here,” Jake suggested.
“I will ask her. Though her medicines are there.”
Where were they getting the damned medicines, anyway? It had bothered Jake from the moment Deborah had brought antibiotics in the unlabeled container for Tara. Was some doctor in town on the payroll? Or were they importing from Mexico, where prescriptions were unnecessary?
“Look, Bea’s just pregnant, for crying out loud. She probably doesn’t need any medicine anyway. You know how pregnant chicks are. I’m surprised she didn’t lose her lunch all over the bathroom.”
Samuel pursed his lips and cocked his head. He stared for a long moment before nodding slightly and turning to go.
The minute he was out the door, Jake grabbed Tara and, with a brief nod to Kevin and Elizabeth, pulled her back into their room where he could be sure they would not be overheard. “We’re going to need a plan,” he said, keeping his voice low. He wanted to pace, but then he’d have to talk louder, and he just wasn’t sure how deep Owen Stephenson’s paranoia ran.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We can’t trust Bea. Now that she knows the truth, all they’d have to do is threaten her or drug her and we’d be blown.”
He glanced down at Tara and saw that she’d wrapped her arms around her body and was shaking slightly. “Tara? Baby? What’s wrong?”
“It’s the tea.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Elizabeth was depressed, she didn’t eat or drink, and she got worse. Until they made her drink the tea, then she got better again.”
“Well, yeah, but not just because of the tea. Calories, attention, all that factored in I’m sure.”
“Listen to me, okay? People are allowed to leave, but when they do they get so depressed that they either come right back within a day or two or they kill themselves. No one survives out in the world.”
“But men don’t drink the tea.”
“Unless they’re leaving. The whole reason women aren’t allowed to drink coffee is that caffeine supposedly muddles the mind and women are too easily confused. Men can handle it. But when one of the Chosen wishes to leave, the assumption is that he or she is confused, so before they go—which no one stops them from doing—there is a ritual. For a full day, they fast and drink tea and discuss their reasons for dissatisfaction with the way of life here with the Leader. Only the following day are they permitted to leave, provided they’re still certain of their decision.”
“Fuck.” He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her against his chest, reassuring himself that she was there—solid, well—as his mind ticked through possibilities. “It fits with what Owen said about you never leaving. But what about the ones who come back? If the tea is a distribution method, and men come back, what do they do?”
“It must have something to do with the reintegration ceremony, the trip they take with Aaron in the desert.”
“So there’s an antidote, a way of losing the addiction, defying the withdrawal that causes the suicides. Has to be. But given that not everyone makes it back from that little ceremony, the antidote either doesn’t always work or it’s sometimes fatal.”
He slid his hands up Tara’s arms, over the taut tendons of her neck and into her hair. He tilted her head back so he could look directly into those bottomless blue eyes. “We’re going to find it. We’re going to get it. That’s our plan. We bring these assholes down and we get you and all the rest of the women here off the damn drug.”
“And if we can’t?”
“We will.”
“Jake . . . ”
He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he did the next best thing. He kissed her.
It was meant to be comfort, promise, assurance that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but the minute his lips touched hers all such altruism went out the window. Her mouth opened beneath his, hot and sweet, and all he could think was More, followed quickly by Mine. She wound her arms around his neck, and he felt the press of her small, firm breasts against his chest, the heat of her skin through her clothes.
He tugged the elastic off her braid and combed his fingers through the pale silk of her hair. He’d fantasized about that wavy blonde fall more often than he should have. Right from the moment they’d met, when it had been considerably shorter than it was now, he’d imagined it spread out across his pillow, wrapped around his hands, tickling his cock.
He slid his hands down her back—feeling her ribs moving erratically with each ragged breath, her passion driving his own even higher—and cupped her ass. She made a small sound and pressed impossibly closer, spearing the fingers of one hand through his hair and gripping the strands so tightly it might have hurt if the rest of his body hadn’t already been on fire.
And then she stepped back, drawing him with her, until they hit the bed. The movement gave his brain enough room for a single strand of coherent thought.
“Christ, sweetheart, tell me to stop.”
In answer, she sat on the edge of the bed, tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, and began to unbutton his fly.
“Oh, fuck, baby, you’re going to kill me.” He tipped her backwards, certain that if he remained standing with her head, her mouth, on level with his cock, he’d go off before he could get her naked. And that was unacceptable. He needed to see her, touch her, taste her everywhere.
• • •
WHEN JAKE FOLLOWED her down onto the bed and slipped his hands beneath her T-shirt, Tara almost crowed in triumph. For a moment, she’d thought he might balk, and her heart had dropped into her stomach. But from her position, his erection was unmistakable. He wanted her. Her. It was mind-boggling, and gave her the strength to push on when she might otherwise have chickened out. She’d heard her own death in Elizabeth’s words that afternoon, and she wasn’t going down without finding out what it was like to have Jake as a lover.
His long legs tangled with hers, frustrating her attempts to open his jeans.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he said when she tried to wedge her hand between them, “we have all night.”
“Only until the dinner horn.” And what time was it anyway? How long did they have?
“Fuck dinner.” Jake’s eyes went
storm-gray with desire. “The only thing on my menu tonight is you.”
A wave of pure heat shot through her, and she couldn’t prevent the little mew that escaped. The left side of his mouth kicked up in a ridiculously sexy grin.
“You like that idea, do you?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Excellent.” In a quick, smooth move, he divested her of her tee, leaving her exposed to his sight in her well-worn cotton bra. But if his low groan was anything to go by, he didn’t care about the state of her lingerie or even that her breasts only barely filled the B cups. He ran a reverent finger along the picot trim of the cotton, following almost immediately with his tongue. Her whole body trembled, and he lifted his head and stared down at her.
“You are so goddamned beautiful,” he whispered. “From the moment I saw you, I imagined you this way.”
“You did?” Was he still acting? They’d swept the room thoroughly for bugs.
“Lucy told me to stay the hell away, but I couldn’t. I can’t.”
The pain of that statement pierced the sensual fog surrounding her. “She knew I would be bad for you.” She’d tried to help Lucy, and Lucy had almost died. She’d tried to help Andrea, and Andrea had died. And now she’d pulled Jake into the cesspit of the Chosen. She was bad news. She just hadn’t realized that one of the few women she considered a friend knew it, too.
“You’re joking, right?” Jake propped himself up on his hands waited in silence until she met his eyes. “It wasn’t me she was worried about. She loves you and wanted to be sure I didn’t hurt you. I don’t have a good track record, and you deserved better than a one-night stand.” He lowered himself over her, biceps bunching, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You still do. So I promise you right now, we’re getting out of this place and we’re getting you well.”
Tara wasn’t going to argue. Not tonight. She reached up and pulled him down so his full weight rested on her, and he caught his lips with her own. He sank into the kiss, running his hands over her body, every touch setting fire to her skin.
His kisses stole her breath. Deft fingers unsnapped the front clasp of her bra, and the cooling air slid over her skin. He lifted her slightly to slide the garment off entirely, and Tara took the opportunity to grasp the hem of his tee and pull it over his head. Hot. The man was bone-melting, blood-boiling hot. Wide shoulders heavy with muscle, a broad chest sprinkled with crisp, golden hairs tapering to a narrow waist, not an ounce of fat anywhere. Just sleek, sinuous seduction, like a giant jungle cat. And she was his prey.
He didn’t give her much time to admire, however, as he ducked his head and swept a stubbled cheek across one of her nipples, sending a streak of pleasure and pain straight down to her core. The next moment his tongue soothed the same pathway. She gripped his hair in her fists, trying to pull him up to meet her mouth, but he pried her fingers loose and continued his exploration of her breasts. How had she never known they were so sensitive? Every caress of his fingers, swipe of his tongue, scrape of his teeth set her to squirming beneath him.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Jake . . . ”
“Off,” he said, rolling them over so she sat atop him, his fingers going to work on the fly of her jeans. She scrambled out of them, pulling off her soaked panties at the same time, but he made no move to remove his own, so she tugged at them.
“Your turn.”
“Baby, I can’t.”
“Can’t?”
He groaned. “No protection. Just let me—”
She laid a hand across his mouth. “Three little letters, Jake: I. U. D. And I’m healthy if you are.”
His eyes blazed hot and dark, pupils expanding so only a tiny rim of color remained, and he yanked her down onto the bed with him. Once again he reversed their positions, this time wedging a leg between her thighs as his hands swept over her, memorizing.
“Are you sure? Be sure, sweetheart.”
She slid her hands down the back of his jeans, pulling him harder against her, grinding her body against his. The rough denim against her tender skin had its own appeal, but she was done waiting, done with foreplay.
“Positive,” she said.
In a minute, he’d shucked jeans, underwear, and socks, and stood before her fully naked and perfect as any man she’d ever seen. Ever imagined. This time when he joined her on the bed, he lay beside her, propped up on an elbow, and ran a long finger down her body from the hollow of her collarbone to just below her bellybutton. Back and forth, back and forth, as if they had all the time in the world, in direct contrast to the urgency she felt, the urgency she saw mimicked in the thrust of his erection.
She reached for him, tried to pull him over her, but he held himself away.
“Just let me look for a minute, baby. I need . . . a bit of control . . . or things are going to be over way too soon.”
But she couldn’t resist touching him, leaning up to sweep her hands over that chest and feel the tiny, springy hairs and the smooth skin beneath. She pressed her mouth to one flat nipple, and he groaned.
His hand cupped her hip and his thumb slid into the crease of her thigh. Reflexively, her muscles tightened. He used the grip to flatten her once more onto her back while he bent to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss on her belly, then lower, teasing, tempting, brushing against the curls covering her core with the bristles of his chin.
And then his tongue found her center, where she was hot and wet and ready. She cried out before she remembered that they were not entirely alone in the cabin and pressed her lips together.
Jake grabbed her ankles and bent her knees so her feet rested flat on the bed and she was completely open, completely exposed to him. He tasted her again, light, repetitive strokes of his tongue like a cat licking cream, but it wasn’t enough and she squirmed beneath him, her body begging for more.
And he gave it to her, sliding first one finger, then two inside as he suckled her. His fingers curved up and slid across a spot she’d never found on her own, a spot that sent shivers of reaction out through her nerves and had her thrusting against his hand. And when his teeth scraped oh-so-gently over her throbbing clit, an orgasm like nothing she’d ever felt ripped through her, and she buried her face in the pillow beside her to muffle the scream she could not prevent.
She was mortified, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He licked and sucked his way up her body, stopping to pay full attention to each breast in turn before meeting her lips. She could taste herself on his tongue, the sour-sweetness undeniably erotic. It was not her first experience with oral sex, but it was the first time a man had brought her to climax with nothing more than his mouth and his hands.
“You doing okay?” he asked, grinning at her with that lopsided grin that was both boyishly endearing and dead sexy.
She reached down and slid her fingers over the smooth, velvety skin of his cock and watched the grin disappear. His mouth came back down on hers and in a single long glide, he was inside her.
“Oh God.” She locked her ankles behind his waist and shuddered helplessly against him.
“Hang on, sweetheart.” He sucked the lobe of her ear, blew on it gently. “This is going to be fast. I apologize for that.”
But he’d already been talking too long for her. She was ready, more than ready to fly again. She dug her heels into his back, urging him deeper, and he obliged. She could feel his tension mount, feel the throbbing of his cock deep inside her, the racing of her own heart. Each thrust drove her higher, higher, until she felt him stiffen and his thumb found her clit, and she bit down on his shoulder to stop from crying out as she went over the precipice.
He collapsed on top of her, his arms sliding around her back as he tipped them both to the side so he lay facing her.
“Holy hell,” he said after a minute.
A giggle bubbled up. She buried her head against his chest to keep it down, but it refused to b
e contained.
“Hey,” he protested. “Are you laughing at me? After you bit me and everything?”
“No, I’m just . . . ” Happy. And wasn’t that a ridiculous thing, given the situation? For just a few minutes, she’d forgotten everything but the sheer pleasure of being with Jake. The giggles disappeared, but the strange contentment did not. Jake stroked her hair without speaking, and her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Eventually, she fell asleep, still locked in his arms.
• • •
A TAPPING SOUND BROUGHT Jake out of the half sleep he’d fallen into. Easing Tara’s warm body away from his own, he slipped from the bed and opened the bathroom door to reveal Kevin.
“Walk?” the man mouthed, jerking his head outside. Jake held up his fingers, signifying that he would wait ten minutes after Kevin left to take off himself in case anyone was watching.
When he got outside, Kevin was shadowboxing in the cool night air.
“’Sup,” Jake asked for the listeners. “Heard you leave. Didn’t figure you for a nightwalker.”
“Bea is becoming difficult. Disobedient.”
“Really? She hardly seems the type.”
“A dog can’t serve two masters.” Jesus. The guy was pushing his abuser role hard. “I told her to stay home and sleep tonight, but she insisted that the Leader would not want her skipping dinner. If she’s gonna be mine, she’s gonna be mine.”
“Well, I hear that, but you knew when you signed on that everyone in here does what the Leader tells them to.”
“Well maybe I’m sick of it. Maybe it’s time to for me to take her and leave.”
Jake began to walk, a meandering path that took them away from likely spots for listening devices. “Do what you’ve go to, I guess. Hey, you want to pick up the pace for a bit? Sweat off some energy?”
“Sure.” They set off at a jog, out in the open, in the dark, shadowed spaces between the lamp poles, spaces where it would be difficult to install any kind of device. Jake filled in Kevin on what he and Tara had discovered. “So when you get out,” he said, “don’t do the exit ceremony. Pitch a fit and leave. And get Elizabeth to medical help ASAP.”
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