Day's End (10 page)

“Goddamn, I need you,” he growled in my ear. He started kissing and nibbling his way down my neck while his hands worked their own kind of magic on my aching breasts, while he pressed his body against mine, trapping me against the door in a way that made me feel vulnerable and needy all at once.

I knew he was waiting for me. He was giving me the chance to tell him to back off, to slow down.

I reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“You’re sure?” he whispered as he ran his hands up my back.

“Yes.”

He unclasped the back of my bra. We had one another undressed in what felt like an instant, and still, he kept my body pressed against the door.

He was warm, solid, hard against me.

I shoved at him a little, backing him toward my bedroom door. He went, walking backwards, his lips and hands still busy playing my body in a way I thought only existed in the imaginations of the authors of some of my favorite romance novels. His fingers plucked and rubbed my nipples while his mouth ravished mine. I kept walking him backward until his legs hit my mattress, and then I gently pushed him back. He settled himself on my bed, legs dangling off the end of the mattress, and looked up at me.

God, he was beautiful. Hard, flexing muscle, dark hair across his chest, another light trail of it leading from his navel down to what was a pretty damn impressive erection.

“I can honestly say I’ve never had anything that big in me before,” I told him, and he laughed.

“I bet you can handle it, though.”

“Oh, I’m going to handle it. Often,” I told him. I reached forward and took him in my hand, and he groaned. I moved my hand over him, and he put his hand over mine.

“Harder,” he told me through gritted teeth, and I held him firmer, massaged him more firmly. I was mesmerized by the feel of him, the sensation of his strong thighs under my legs as I settled myself onto him, the way his breath hitched and he cursed, low and hoarse, as I worked him in my hand.

“Jolene,” he growled, and the desperation in his voice was like an aphrodisiac. I’d been worried. Nervous. I’ve never let myself be this vulnerable with anyone, this naked, this unguarded. It was like he knew that I needed this. I needed control, just for a little while. It’s just the way I’m wired, to want to be in charge.

Except with him. I’m willing to share control with him. Mostly.

“I want you. Now,” I told him, and in the next instant he had me flipped onto my back and was pushing my thighs apart, settling his big body between my legs. I was pretty sure that the sensation of his weight on me was something I’d never get enough of. It takes a lot to make me feel vulnerable, but this did it, naked beneath him, my legs spread, every part of me visible to his hungry gaze. It was terrifying in the same way a roller coaster is. Thrilling, terrifying, addictive. Who knew one person could make another feel all of that?

The only thing better was the moment he entered me, the moment his body and mine joined, and it felt like something I’d been waiting for my whole life.

He murmured my name, and everything after that was a heavenly, sinful mix of hard, deep thrusts, roaming hands and mouths, and whispered, filthy promises that I knew he’d keep. He sent me over the edge again and again, taking me harder, thrusting into me with such wild, needy abandon that in the end, all I could do was cry his name over and over again until he finally followed me over the edge. There was no him and me, there was only us, and it was perfect.

Afterward, we lay in my bed, a tangle of limbs and twisted bedding, our bodies cooling as our heart rates tried to make their way back to normal. He ran his hand up and down my spine as I rested my head on his chest.

“You know when you’re impatient and someone says some shit like ‘the best things come to those that wait?’” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Usually, that’s bullshit. This is the only time in my life that’s ever been true. And not just this, but everything we’ve been to each other. Waiting for you to trust me, waiting for you to give us a chance, waiting for the time when it would be right to do what we did tonight… the waiting made me feel like I was losing my mind, but every second of it was worth it.”

I turned my head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his chest. “I am so glad you waited for me, Ryan.”

He rolled me onto my back and settled himself on top of me again, his gaze searching mine out in the dark room. “There was nothing else I wanted to do. If you’d never changed your mind about me, I’d still be waiting and hoping. You are everything I’ve ever wanted. And I keep waiting, expecting that I’ll eventually see something that makes you shine a little less brightly in my eyes, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Ryan.”

“Jolene,” he said, and I smiled.

“I just like saying your name sometimes,” I said. And then I laughed. “God, that is sappy.”

He laughed, too, and then lowered his lips to mine.

“Well, I very recently learned that I like it when you scream my name,” he murmured against my lips. “Let’s see if we can make that happen again.”

And we did.

Chapter Five

I was still giddy, glowing from everything Ryan and I had done the night before, as well as that morning before he’d left for patrol. I was dressed, ready to do my own patrol with Max in a few hours. In the meantime, I was going over my maps and lists and listening to the latest Detroit Unpowered stream. It was nice making it through an entire stream without hearing him ripping me apart. Of course, he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but a win is a win.

There was a soft knock on my door, and I hit pause on the video. I got up and opened the door to see Chance standing out in the corridor. She gave me a small wave.

“Do you have a second?” she asked me.

I nodded. “What’s up?”

She looked uncomfortable. She glanced away, then looked back up at me. “I need to talk to someone… this seems like something you’d understand, maybe. Personal stuff,” she added, chewing her lower lip.

I tried not to groan. Like I wanted to listen to anyone else’s goddamn personal problems. Sometimes living at Command was like living in the middle of a soap opera. Somebody was always sleeping with somebody or at least wanting to. So much gossip, so much backstabbing.

But it wasn’t like I had anything else going on until my patrol shift started. And I was trying to be nicer. Or something.

I nodded. “Want to come in?”

“Actually, can we take a little walk? You’re allowed to go in the courtyard and stuff, right?”

“Okay.”

I closed my door and followed Chance to the elevator. We rode down in silence. She mostly kept her eyes down, and I had to shove down a bit of irritation. If she was that uncomfortable talking to me, why the hell did she ask me?

Something I’d understand. Maybe she stole something. Or was involved in a shitty relationship. Or had Portia pissed at her. All of that, I could definitely relate to. I glanced over at her to see her watching me, and she quickly looked away.

“You keep looking at me like I’m gonna kick your ass or something,” I said.

She shook her head. “I’m just not good at this kind of crap,” she said quietly.

“Talking to people?”

She gave a small nod and glanced away again. The elevator stopped at the first floor and we got off. I waved to the two guards at the front entrance as Chance and I walked outside. She started heading to the left and I followed as she headed toward the far end of the courtyard, which was near the prison tower. There was a tall fence there with razor wire at the top. She leaned against the chainlink and crossed her arms. I stopped in front of her and held my hands up.

“Okay. Pretty sure nobody can hear us over here. What’s up?”

She took a breath. “Remember that time we all went out to that restaurant, and you all were sharing your secret identities?”

I nodded. “And you chose not to, and that’s fine.”

She let out a short, bitter-sounding laugh and shook her head. “Yeah. It was. But I really want you to know. You deserve to know.”

Something in her tone had my spine straightening, my fists clenching.

“Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “My name is Jamie Sciotto,” she said. And now, she met my eyes.

“Sciotto, huh?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“As in Jonathan Sciotto, maybe?” Jonathan Sciotto. Also known as Dr. Death. Also known as the miserable piece of shit who killed my mother on Killjoy’s orders. It hadn’t taken long, after he was gone and we had access to his empty apartment, for us to put an actual name with the alias. We hadn’t seen any sign of family, though.

“He was my father.”

“Look,” I blew out a breath. “I guess you’re telling me this because I’m experienced in the whole keeping secrets that people are going to hate me for thing, but seriously: you can tell Portia. She knows you well enough that—”

And then I heard a low laugh behind me, one that I would have recognized anywhere.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Killjoy said near my ear. Before I could react, there was a pinching sensation at the side of my neck, and I immediately slumped to the ground.

“Nah, Portia doesn’t need to know. I just wanted you to know who it was who finally sold you out. Bitch,” Chance hissed.

“Good girl. You’ll be hearing from me. Just keep it up a while longer.” My vision went fuzzy, and there was a weird ringing in my ears. I wanted to scream, to kick, to bite… anything, but I couldn’t even blink, let alone do anything else.

The next thing I knew, I felt us being transported away, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. My throat was raw, and when I tried to swallow, I tasted blood. I opened my eyes to see a white ceiling, a painfully bright light. I could hear a machine beeping to my left, and I tried to turn my head.

I couldn’t move. I tried again and realized, belatedly, that there was some kind of strap or band around my forehead keeping my head still. When I tested my arms, my legs, my hips, I found that, like my head, they were all secured flat as well.

“Ah, you’re up.” A moment later, a redheaded man came into my line of sight. Tall, broad, a scruff of dark red hair along his strong jawline. “How are you, my sweet girl?”

“I… who are you?”

The man smiled, a deep dimple showing on the left side of his mouth. “Connor, Jolene. It’s okay. It’ll take some time before you get over what those bastards did to you.”

I stared at him, trying to think. Everything was a haze. I knew his name, now that he’d said it. I knew that I knew him. I knew his smile, his icy blue eyes. Other than that, it felt like everything I knew was just out of reach.

“Who? What happened?” I asked. My voice was scratchy. The man, Connor, just smiled. “You’re about to go in for your next round of surgery. That’s why you’re all strapped down like this. Once you’re out and awake, you’ll remember, sweetheart. And you’ll feel a hell of a lot better, too.”

Sweetheart. Something about the phrase, maybe about this man saying it, felt familiar.

“What happened to me?” I repeated.

“They fucked you up. I’m gonna get you right. I promise.” He reached down and squeezed my hand, a gleam of something in his eyes. “We’ll talk again once you’re awake. Right?”

I blinked, the most I could do at the moment to answer him. I heard footsteps, and another man came into my line of vision. This one was tall, pale, with short white hair and light gray eyes. Not super old, but somehow, he looked ancient.

“Shall we put her under again, sir?”

I watched as Connor nodded. “We’re ready.” Then he looked back down at me. “Until next time, my sweet girl,” he said, and then there was a pinch to my arm, a mask placed over my nose and mouth, and then I knew nothing at all.

When I woke up again, I wanted to die. Consciousness was torture. Every sound, from the heat blowing through the vents in my room to the ticking of a clock nearby, was thunderous. Painful. The sheets against my skin felt like sandpaper. The slightly antiseptic smell I’d noted before nearly gagged me it was so strong, and, along with it, the overpowering scent of cologne, deodorant, cleaning supplies. Microwaved burrito, coffee, a trash can that needed to be emptied. My ears rang with far too many noises, so many of them, so loud that I could barely discern one from another. I wanted to cover my ears, but my hands were still strapped down.

I opened my eyes, then immediately closed them again. Everything was too bright, too sharp. I felt myself start breathing harder in panic, and every harsh breath was a torrent of ragged sound.

“Help,” I said, and it sounded like a scream. Footsteps thundered into the room, and I forced my eyes open again. The redheaded man, Connor, was back, smiling down at me.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“What’s wrong with me?” I whispered, grateful that he’d had the sense to try to speak quietly as well.

“We enhanced you. I will give you every advantage. It’ll take some time, but you’ll adjust.”

“Enhanced?”

“You already had super strength and flight. You remember that, yeah?”