High Seduction (7 page)

He could wait, be patient, but in the meantime he was hard and aching, and hell if he was going to stay that way. Having the strength to follow Erin's deliberately slow lead would be impossible if he didn't take the edge off.

Tim turned off the hall lights and entered his bedroom, the slightly rumpled edge of the quilt catching his eye. Another jolt of lust hit at the realization that Erin had noticed the bed was more than it appeared.

Had she paused and remembered? Were the images and memories that flooded him as clear for her? Tim sat on the mattress and leaned back on the heavy post, pressing against his cock with a hand.

They'd been so young, so eager to try new things. Sexual pleasures of all kinds, tested one by one.

She'd enjoyed it when their experimentation had turned to ropes.

Intricate designs woven over her skin, soft white cotton contrasting with her darker skin tone and making beautiful patterns that came alive as sensual art.

Hands secured behind her back as he'd held her in place, pressing her head lower to the mattress so he could ease his cock into her sex from behind. His hardness slipping into soft, wet heat again and again until they were both ready to scream.

Or ropes to control her, to give the illusion of being subdued. Like the current setup with this bed—places to secure her limbs so she'd be completely at his mercy. Not so he could take his pleasure, but so he could give to her.

It was always about giving.

Except now, at this moment. Now his body demanded that he take. The memories taunted him, and Tim stripped off his clothes. Slowly. Once again meticulous and deliberate, no matter how tight his balls had drawn, or how heavy his cock felt as he released it from his briefs.

He paused to picture her, spread-eagle on his bed. Her dark hair loose on his pillow, her arms stretched overhead, wrists secured to the headboard. He could see her exquisite body laid out before him, and he wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled languidly. Prolonging the pleasure. Easing over his fullness, rubbing the escaping moisture over the sensitive head.

He'd done this before while she'd watched. Taken himself in hand and stood beside her to let her enjoy every move, his own pleasure rising because of her responsiveness. Her eyes huge as her tongue snuck out to moisten full pouting lips. As if fascinated by the pressure he used, the speed of the strokes. She'd stared, mesmerized, her body a lush banquet before him. Innately sensual, moving from one position to the next with her bold beauty on display.

His urgent need for release increased.

They'd teased, touching themselves while trying to force the other to the breaking point first. Dirty talk, sexual images. Tim increased the tightness of his grip, increased his speed slightly until pleasure raced up his spine.

Erin would smile, mischief breaking over her face as he'd draw closer to the end. Her fingers stroking her clit, dipping between her soft folds into her core and coming back glistening with her sweet juices.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, attempting to hold off for one more second, to cling to the images of the past for one more moment, but it was too much to ask. Not when he could as good as taste her skin, smell the passion in the room. The desire. Her need and his all wrapped up together. Release exploded from him as sticky wetness poured over his fingers. He gasped, semen jerking from him on every pull as he used his other hand as a cover to contain the mess.

His heart pounded, his breathing uneven. They'd been apart for years, yet he could picture being with her as if it were yesterday. Another shudder rocked him, and he groaned, letting the final bits of tension wash away.

Tim collapsed on the mattress, the edge taken off, his body moderately satisfied, but his mind and soul still longing for her. For the real connection of being with Erin again.

Whatever it took, he would make that a reality.

CHAPTER
7

Tim entered Lifeline headquarters with a spring in his step, excitement and pleasure there as Marcus stood to greet him.

“You're prompt.” Marcus held out his hand and Tim shook it firmly. “Let's go through a few things before the others get here.”

“Love to.” Being offered a trial run with Lifeline that morning had been the next step in what needed to happen. “Glad to know my references checked out.”

Marcus laughed. “After I'd talked to the first three I wondered if you'd given me a list of hired actors to contact. The glowing reports were a touch overwhelming. Luckily for you my conversation with reference number four was more realistic.”

Tim joined Marcus in the boardroom, settling into one of the oversized chairs. “They didn't sing my praises?”

“Oh, he still said you were good.” Marcus pushed over paperwork for Tim to sign. “But he mentioned you have troubles with authority, that you're a great team player until you think you know better, and that if he never had to see you again it would be too soon.”

“I have an idea who that was,” Tim drawled.

“So not everyone thinks you're the golden boy, but they agree you shine in your area of fieldwork.” Marcus leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “I want both. Your SAR skills, and your ability to work with others. While you're on my team I expect you to check your ego and put it on the line for the others. Going solo doesn't work—not with the situations we get called into.”

Tim nodded slowly. “I won't blindly follow where there's a clear danger,” he cautioned, “nor will I allow another team member to make a mistake that will cost them or the people we're rescuing.”

“I understand. I'm the same way, but this is where trust comes in. Lifeline works together, which means there are times that sharing solutions needs to end. The best person takes charge at the right time. Occasionally more than one option could work, and whoever is leading the mission makes the decision. Second-guessing is dangerous because it takes time, and that's a situation we want to avoid.”

“Agreed.” Tim passed back the contracts. “I'll focus on providing medical attention first and foremost, which means I expect to be given preference when it comes to saving lives. I don't make suggestions casually.”

“That's how it's always worked with the team.” Marcus handed over a set of keys and a card with a handwritten five-digit number. “Door is coded for a silent alarm—the entire building actually. If it goes off, the RCMP and I get a call, and someone will be here in under ten minutes. There's an extra key there for the supply locker. Go through and familiarize yourself with our layout. If you need to change things up, be sure you do a session with Tripp so there's no hesitation when it comes to heading out on a call.”

“Narcotics stored here at headquarters?” Tim asked.

“Some. We've had a few break-ins with people looking for drugs, so we keep a minimal supply on hand and double-lock them.” Marcus pointed to the second key. “I'll show you where we keep the contact numbers for the hospital when you need refills. Also . . .”

He handed Tim a metal whiskey flask.

Tim raised a brow, unscrewing the lid and sniffing. Marcus's expression didn't give anything away, so Tim took a small shot, sucking for breath as the high-test alcohol cruised past his tonsils.

Marcus grinned. “Medicinal purposes only, of course.”

“Now, you'll be one of me best-ever bosses, I'd be thinking.” Tim passed over the hooch, drawling out his brogue. “'Tis a sweet dram.”

“You know it.” Marcus tipped back a hit, coughing momentarily as he returned the flask. “Keep it, it's yours. Welcome to the team—if you make it through probation.”

Tim chuckled as he tucked the container into his pocket. “The presents usually come after I've finished hell week.”

Marcus rose to his feet, gesturing toward the door. “You might need that whiskey to make it through, but I have a feeling about you, Tim. I think you'll do fine.”

Just outside the boardroom doors, Tim jerked to a stop. The entire team stood before him, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, expressions set into unreadable neutrality.

“They're your team now.” Marcus spoke from behind him, the words quiet but clear. “Everything hangs in the balance depending on how well you work together. Do you trust them?”

Tim examined each member one at a time, from the tall and muscular Tripp to the petite blonde Alisha, who seemed too delicate for the task of rescuing.

Appearances were deceiving. This group had proven themselves many times over the years—he was the unknown, the one who had to fit into the puzzle.

It looked as if that started right now. A test of some sort.

“I trust them with my life,” Tim answered.

Anders nodded.

Something about the way they stood gave it away. Tim's smile grew as he spotted the items carelessly discarded on the floor by their feet. It appeared he was in for an adventure.

“Training games?” Tim asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“It seemed a good way to get to know us better,” Devon smirked. “You ready?”

There was no time to answer. A flash of anticipation lit Erin's eyes a split second before darkness blocked her from view. Tim jolted, every muscle tightening as the fabric bag Marcus dropped over his head left him blind.

“Be gentle with me,” Tim teased, his voice echoing into the silence of the room. “I've never done this before.”

A broad shoulder pressed into his stomach, and he was lifted into the air. Tripp, he assumed, or Anders perhaps. No voices, no noise. No hints of where he was being taken. A blanket or something heavy settled on him, but the cold air snuck under the edges as he was carried outside.

Tim relaxed, allowing his rescuer to support him more fully. He maintained enough tension to stop from being a dead weight, but not struggling or making things more difficult.

With nothing to see, Tim relied on his other senses more. The cold sharp feel of the wintry air, the dryer-sheet scent clinging to the blanket.

Ahead of them a van door slid open.

Just because the rest of them were staying silent didn't mean he had to, but for some reason it seemed right to wait. To let them take the lead in this strange initiation. Tim settled into the seat where he was placed and waited for the ride to be over.

When they arrived, it was a place with solid concrete underfoot as he was led from the van and guided up a short flight of stairs.

A gymnasium. There was the unmistakable scent plus the hollow echolike sounds as they entered. Tim was placed in position, his hands pressed to the back of a chair.

“If you expect a lap dance, I'm afraid I'm not very good.”

That pulled a snort of laughter from someone in the room.

Small noises tickled his curiosity, but he held back from removing the blindfold. He would play the game all the way to the end.

Anders finally broke the silence. “We're happy to have you join us, but we thought it would be good to run a short training session together. The team follows four guidelines, Tim. You saw them up on the wall at HQ?”

He listed them quickly. “Have patience, move decisively. Trust your team. Give one hundred ten percent.”

That earned him a hum of approval. “You're observant. That's part of what we need from you. We hope you're also creative and innovative.”

“And at least somewhat amusing,” Tripp added, his voice coming from a long distance away. “A sense of humour is key when we're stuck slogging through some mess for hours on end.”

Tim grinned. “I'm not good at stand-up comedy, but I've been told I can turn a tale or two.”

“Right now you get to show your talents in a different way.” All traces of teasing vanished as Anders snapped out the order. “You've got ten minutes to assemble the team, beginning now. Take off your blindfold.”

Damn. Okay, they'd managed to surprise him—this wasn't at all what he'd expected. Tim slipped off the head covering and glanced around the room.

Given that he had a deadline, his first impulse was to instantly head toward the first team member he spotted. The mention of the team rules reminded him to pause. Assessing the situation was always the first step. He had to take the time to judge the situation and not simply fly into it blindly.

He'd been right about the location. It was a gymnasium, probably at a local school. The floor was covered with equipment of all sorts. Gymnastics, climbing frames. Old lockers.

The other members of the team were scattered around the room. Alisha was the easiest to spot where she hung suspended on the wall near the ceiling. Her eyes were covered with a thick swatch of dark material—even though she was safely roped in, she'd have to be directed to the floor.

In the farthest corner Tripp was also blindfolded, an absolute tangle of ropes and clutter standing between him and a clear section of floor in the middle of the room.

That was where Devon was found. He sat on the top of a gymnastics pommel horse. He waved at Tim, in the process showing off that his hands were tied together in front of him, extra lengths of rope leading downward and vanishing down around either side of the heavy structure he sat on.

“Jeez, you guys have a wicked sense of humour yourselves,” Tim noted, turning to face Anders, who stood only a few feet behind him. Nothing tied up, nothing holding him back. Had to be something simple and yet terrible. Anders was the heaviest team member, probably two hundred pounds of sheer muscle. “Let me guess. You're not going to walk beside me, are you?”

Anders grinned evilly and batted his lashes. “Afraid not.”

Tim took another quick glance but had no luck in spotting the final member of the crew. “Where's Erin?”

No answer. Bloody hell. He had no time to waste.

“Okay, big guy.” Tim reached for Anders's hand. “Time to go for a ride.”

He pulled Anders forward while bending at the waist, reaching between the other man's legs, and with one smooth motion Anders was draped over his back in a fireman's carry.

Anders chuckled. “Nicely done.”

Tim ignored him, twirling toward the wall where Alisha hung and carefully working his way through the obstacles. “Devon, I need you to talk Tripp through the maze. Got it?”

“No problem.” Devon twisted, and his clear voice rang out. “You'll need to do some ducking and crawling, Tripp. Quarter turn to your left to start.”

Tim eased his burden a little before lifting them both over a bench blocking the way. “Anders, look around for Erin. Do you see her anywhere?”

“Nothing visible, but I'll keep checking.”

Devon continued to drone directions in the background. Tim's burden was heavy enough that his legs were shaking slightly by the time he made it to the wall below where Alisha waited.

“I'm lowering you,” he warned Anders.

A second after settling the man on the ground, Tim had the belay rope wrapped around himself, a backup loop around his leg. “Alisha, you ready to come down?”

She adjusted her stance and securely grabbed the rope. “Lower.”

Hallelujah, he didn't have to talk her down. “Lowering. Walk slowly, you've got a clear path.”

He kept one eye on her, glancing momentarily to the side to see how Devon was coming along with “rescuing” Tripp from the maze. The two of them were nearly together.

“Once I've got Alisha down, we're going to head over to Devon,” he informed Anders.

“Still no sign of Erin,” Anders warned, glancing at his watch.

How long had it been? At least five minutes, maybe more. “You're touching down in three, two, one . . . now.”

Alisha bent her knees to absorb the landing as Tim slowed her to a stop. “Nice ride,” she complimented him.

He was already working her rope loop free from her climbing belt. “You'll be walking in front of me toward our target. Listen to my vocal cues, and I'll guide you over the debris.”

“Got it.”

His heart was pounding, but he took a deep breath and did it again. Picked up Anders, put Alisha in front of him, and stepped slowly toward his penultimate target.

Ahead of them one more challenge was nearly accomplished. “Nice going, Devon.”

Tripp stepped through the final tangle and into the clear. “Am I there?”

Devon laughed. “Almost. Three paces, toward eleven o'clock, and you'll hit my station.”

They met at the same time. Tim lowered Anders to the floor again. Tripp waited expectantly, Alisha as well, both of them with their eyes still covered. “Give me a second, and I'll fill you guys in,” Tim offered.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Tripp muttered.

Tim eyed the platform Devon sat on in disgust. “Your rope is too short for you to come and help us lift the anchor rope free.”

“Sorry.” Devon shrugged. “Two-minute warning.”