Heat of the Night(18)
Author: Sylvia Day

"Connor!" Her head thrashed in near delirium, unable to bear the depth and leisurely pace of his f**king. It was unbelievably good. Impossibly good. A few more strokes like that and she was going to have the orgasm of her life. "Yes… um, yes…"

He pulled free and slipped off the bed.

Stacey struggled up onto her elbows and gaped at him. "Where are you going?"

He looked over his shoulder and blinked innocently. "I’m going to get you some pie. You said you wanted some."

"Y-you… w-what… now … ?"

"I wouldn’t want to force you into sex or anything."

"Get back here!"

He grinned and paused at the door, lounging insolently into the jamb. Buck-assed nak*d with a full raging hard-on, he made a stunning picture.

"Nympho," he teased.

"Come on!" she cajoled impatiently. "Please."

"Was that begging?"

Her gaze narrowed. "Get. Over. Here. Now."

He crossed his arms and studied her intently.

"What will you do when I’m gone and you’re horny?"

"Play with myself," she said easily. "But that’s not nearly as much fun as playing with you and you’re here."

"Do it," he urged, his hot gaze dropping to her lewdly spread legs. "I want to watch."

She considered that a long moment, watching him watching her. The way his lips parted and his breathing sped up told her the idea of witnessing her masturbating turned him on.

"Will you jack off to this memory when you’re away?" she asked, pushing her splayed fingers through the damp curls of her sex.

Connor licked his lips and took himself in hand.

"I’m ready to jack off to it now."

The pads of her fingers rested over her engorged cl*t and she rubbed in languid circles, shivering from both the lack of his body heat and her building arousal. She’d need a faster pace to reach orgasm, but that wasn’t the point of the exercise.

The point was to get Connor in a rut, so he’d come back and finish what he started. She moaned and his entire body jerked.

"Fuck," he rasped, straightening.

"Oh!" Her neck arched back, thrusting her br**sts into the air. She rubbed harder and a little faster, reaching lower to gather the slickness at the slit of her p**sy, then rising up to lubricate her motions.

Then his fingers were there, pushing inside her, thrusting. Fucking. She was panting, twisting and he was standing there next to her. His gorgeous face flushed, his jaw taut, his irises swallowed by dilated pupils. His attention was between her legs, where he was fingering her expertly, where she was fondling herself frantically. His c*ck was hard as stone, the tip an angry red and glistening with the sem*n that leaked from the tiny hole.

"Let me suck you," she begged, her mouth watering at the thought.

With a rough, edgy sound Connor returned to the bed, lying lengthwise, his c*ck by her mouth, her p**sy at his chest. They rolled until they faced one another, their heights so disparate, but perfect for this.

Stacey gripped his magnificent c*ck with two hands and angled it down to her waiting mouth.

Her tongue touched the hot tip and he cursed viciously but didn’t lose the rhythm of his fingers.

He added his callused thumb to the mix, manipulating her cl*t with just the right pressure to set her off.

She cli**xed with a muffled cry, her mouth full, her tongue fluttering rapidly over the sensitive spot just beneath the crown of his cock. He roared her name, coming hard, h*ps bucking in his orgasmic frenzy. Stacey took it all, every drop, sucking deeply with hollowing cheeks, drinking him down with open-throated delight.

"No more, sweetheart," he murmured huskily.

"You’re killing me."

Stacey released him only when he pushed her head weakly away. He curled around and joined her, wrapping her in his arms and tossing a leg over both of hers.

Feeling cherished, she set her cheek next to his madly racing heart and fell asleep.

Chapter 11

It took a moment for Connor to realize what woke him. He was fully alert and sliding away from Stacey’s warm body when it registered—footsteps approaching the front door. The window behind the scrolled wrought iron headboard overlooked the far end of the porch, and he pushed aside the sheer black curtain and peeked between the shutters.

Aidan and Lyssa were ascending the short stairs.

Cursing under his breath, he turned around and reached for his pants.

"Who is it?" Stacey asked in a sleep-husky rasp.

"Mom and Dad," he muttered.

"Huh? Oh… Ugh." She sat up, looking tousled and well f**ked—kiss-swollen lips, pink cheeks, rosy skin. "Do you think telling them to mind their own business will work?"

"It damn well better." He zipped up and held out a hand to her. Tugging her from the bed, he ran a quick admiring glance down the length of her body, cupped a swaying breast, and kissed her passionately. "You get dressed. I’ll get the door."

He turned away and she swatted him on the ass.

"Yes, sir."

Tossing a mock glare over his shoulder, Connor left the bedroom, traversed the hall, and unlocked the front door.

Aidan took one look at his bare chest and feet, and scowled. "Asshole."

"Shithead," Connor retorted.

"I take no responsibility for him," Aidan said to Lyssa. "He f**ks up, it’s not my fault."

She patted his arm. "Calm down, honey."

Connor smiled at Lyssa. "Hi."

Her returning smile was just as sweet as she was.

"Hi. I smell apple pie."

Laughing, Connor stepped back, pulling the door open wide. It was late afternoon, the hour when the sky was more orange than blue and the hottest part of the day was behind them. "I’m sure Stacey will be slicing it up soon. She’s been talking about that pie all day."

"Have you moved in now?" Aidan snapped.

"Dude." Connor shook his head. "You need to get laid or take vitamins or something."

"He doesn’t need to get laid," Lyssa assured, grinning.

"Yes, I do," Aidan argued, "and if you blow it for me, Bruce, I’m kicking your ass."

"Wow." Both of Connor’s brows rose. "You must really have it going on, Lyssa. He’s awfully anxious about pissing you off."

She offered a saucy shrug. "What can I say?"

"Hey, Doc." Stacey entered the living room from the hallway. "Want some apple pie?"

"Told ya," Connor said.

"Can we talk, Bruce?" Aidan said tightly, gesturing toward the front door.

"I don’t know. Can we?" Connor set his hands on his hips. "You don’t look capable of talking.

You look like you want to bitch."

Aidan stood there for a moment, still and tense.

Then a faint hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Please."

"Aw, alright."

"Want me to cut you a slice?" Stacey called after him.

"Hell, yeah." He winked at her. "I want to try some of that pie-that’s-better-than-sex."

"I didn’t say that!" she protested, blushing.

"You must really not have it going on," Aidan ribbed.

"Stace’s

pie

is

good,

but

it’s

not that good."

"Watch it."

Aidan’s laughter followed Connor out the screen door and onto the porch. Moving to stand at the railing, Connor said, "Before you get started, my sex life is none of your damn business."

"We’ll debate that later. Right now I gotta tell you about what happened when I woke up."

There was excitement in Aidan’s voice, which caught and held Connor’s attention. "Yeah?"

"I found a letter I wrote to myself."

Connor blinked. "O-kay…"

"While I was sleeping."

"Wager." Admiration filled Connor at the thought.

The lieutenant was wily and resourceful, two traits that any officer would appreciate finding in the soldiers under his command.

"Yes. I always liked him. Smart kid."

Wager was a few centuries beyond being a "kid,"

but Connor got the idea.

Aidan ran a hand through his hair. In the Twilight, he’d always kept it short. The inky locks were longer now than Connor could ever remember seeing them. The look softened the captain’s features and blended with the glow of happiness visible whenever he looked at Lyssa. He was a changed man, a previously hopeless man who now had hope.

"What did it say?" Connor asked.

"He found traces of a bug inside the files you downloaded from the temple." Aidan walked over to the swinging bench and sat.

Turning, Connor rested his hip against the railing.

"A bug?"

"Yes, a virus or Trojan program that’s been monitoring everything the Elders have been doing."

"Eavesdropping? "

Aidan looked at him grimly. "Yeah."

"So everything we know, someone else also knows?"

"Looks that way."

Gripping the wooden slats behind him, Connor looked across the side-lawn to the neighbor’s yard. He exhaled harshly. "Any idea how long the bug has been there?"

"The letter didn’t say. Wager is tracing it, but cautions us against holding our breaths. He says it’ll take some time and there is no guarantee of success."

"Well, someone else out there doesn’t trust the Elders either. Maybe that’s a good thing for us."

"Or maybe not."

"True."

"The letter also mentioned that your dreams with Sheron could be true. Wager found a file on a program called ‘dream incursion.’ Something about enhancing dreams with information that would become memorable. He’s working on that lead, too."

"Poor guy," Connor muttered. "How in hell did he end up with the Elite? His brain has got to be bored with all the chest thumping."

Aidan laughed. "He’s too hotheaded for a desk assignment. I asked him once why he joined the Elite. He said it was his first love and the rest was just a hobby."

"Some hobby."

The low rumble of a car’s engine drew both of their gazes to the road. Just beyond the chain link fence that marked Stacey’s property, a black sedan with dark tinted windows cruised slowly along then turned into the driveway.

The screen door opened and the girls exited the house backwards, balancing small desert plates atop each hand. Both men spared only fleeting glances in their direction.

"Who is that?" Stacey asked, noting how both Connor and Aidan seemed unduly interested in the approaching vehicle.

Aidan stood and glanced at her, frowning. "You don’t recognize the car?"

She shook her head.

"Get in the house," Connor ordered, moving to stand between her and the visitor.

For a moment, Stacey contemplated the effectiveness of pointing out that she wasn’t one to be ordered around. In the end, she stepped around Connor and set the two slices of pie she was carrying on top of the two-by-four railing.

"It’s my house," she pointed out. "Whoever it is wants to see me. Or they’re lost. Most likely lost, because—"

"I’ve got this, Cross," Connor interjected darkly.

"You take care of Lyssa."

Stacey fell silent as Aidan leaped to his feet and pushed Lyssa roughly into the house.

Connor caught her arm and tugged her back behind him as the car rolled to a stop and the rear driver’s side door opened. Stacey swatted at him, loving that he was overprotective but also finding it annoying. Too much of anything was too much and…

Her mouth fell open as a woman beautiful enough to put Angelina Jolie out of a job unfolded from the backseat. The gall had black hair and green eyes like Stacey, but unlike Stacey, she was tall and willowy with the defined muscles of a body builder. She was also drop-dead gorgeous—

blessed with perfectly symmetrical facial features and softly tanned skin. Dressed in gray sleeveless tunic and loose-legged pants, her garments reminded Stacey of the ones Connor had been wearing when he arrived on Lyssa’s doorstep.

"I have no idea who that is," Stacey said.

"Captain Bruce," the woman called out in greeting, smiling in a way that made Stacey’s skin crawl. She had the same accent that Connor and Aidan had, which only increased Stacey’s unease.

"You know her?" Stacey asked, heart sinking. No way could she compete with a woman who looked like that.

"Rachel," Connor rejoined.

The grim tone of Connor’s voice didn’t help settle Stacey, like she would have thought. Yeah, she was glad he wasn’t happy to see Rachel, but on the other hand, drama scenes were not her cuppa tea.

"Look how sweetly you protect your human lover," Rachel drawled, resting her arm elegantly along the top of the open car door. "I always said the need for sex was a weakness unique to male members of the Elite."

"What the f**k is she talking about?" Stacey muttered. "Who is that?" Her eyes widened. "Oh my god! You’re not married are you?"

"What?" Connor barked, glaring at her. "To her?

Are you nuts?"

"To anyone?"

"No!"

Rachel cleared her throat. "Excuse me. Can you argue after I conclude my business? I have a long drive ahead of me and I would like to ‘hit the road’ as they say."

Aidan came back. He handed something to Connor, then looked at Stacey. "You need to come inside, Stace."

Stacey glanced down at the object in Connor’s hand and comprehension dawned.

"Oh, I get it!" She grinned sheepishly. "This is about the sword!"

"Sweetheart," Connor bit out between clenched teeth. "Go inside the damn house. Now."

"Bossy, aren’t they?" Rachel said, laughing. "You can come with me, sweetheart. I have some…

friends … who would love to meet you."

"You’ll have to kill me, Rachel," Connor challenged, "to get to her."

Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. "I know! Isn’t that delicious? As impatient as I was for the Key to be found, getting you and Cross in the bargain makes it all worth it."