Lucidity (10 page)

So there was no reason that, without stirring or turning to look, she could suddenly feel the presence of someone in the bedroom. Someone furtive, purposeful, moving with the stealth of a creeping shadow.

Trying to still her racing heart, she made a fist against her flattened pillow. It couldn’t be Parker. He never came at her this way. He knew she was on edge and always waited patiently for her to wake up, or roused her with a shout and a shake if there was danger.

Maybe a member of the Temple had finally caught up to her, just when she’d be needed most.

The wooden floor creaked beneath the bulk of the intruder, became louder as he drew closer, then stopped. Whoever it was stood between her and the door. She’d never make a successful run for it. Her pounding heart pumped fear into her veins with every pulse, keeping her frozen as she was. She could scream for her bodyguard, but a dry sliver of fear seemed to have lodged in her throat, silent and suffocating.

When the edge of the mattress sank beneath his weight, the same fear that paralyzed her galvanized her limbs into life. Gulping air in one huge breath, Carly cried out and pushed against the bed, twisting and putting all of her body’s weight into the hard angle of her elbow against his face. She was rewarded with the sound of the sharp blow and his bark of pain—just before the bare chest of the intruder loomed over her, his massive body and strong hands pinning her back against the sheet.

“Nice shot. Next time aim for the nose or the temple. You’ll get better results.”

Relief made her limbs go weak as fury now fired her heart. “Dammit, Munroe!”

“You were expecting Uncle Vic?”

“I wasn’t expecting… I mean, no, of course not! I was thinking the soup and sandwiches at Violet’s were nice but didn’t amount to much. And I was silly enough to think I’d make up for the mess of yesterday by dreaming up something you’d really enjoy. Like, maybe, steak and potatoes smothered in butter, and I was all set to do the visualizations when you bust in here—”

“Hungry?”

Not at all. At the moment, food was the last thing on her mind.

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. He stretched to his full length on top of her, holding both of her wrists above her head in an iron grasp, his suggestive smile bare inches away. His heart drummed hard against hers, the soft mat of hair on solid muscle exciting her breasts to aching awareness.

This was totally unlike the Munroe she knew, the guy always on guard, prepared for anything. She’d fantasized about him like this, wondered how it would feel, but the reality was beyond even her imagination. She swallowed the urge to mew beneath the warmth of his weight, trying to focus on the bizarre situation. He was completely, devastatingly naked. “W-what are you doing here? Is anything wrong?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.” He nibbled at her lips, bit the bottom one sharply, then soothed it with his tongue. “It’s never been easy, imagining you all warm and silky in bed, just a few yards away. Thought I’d come see for myself. I’ve been thinking about you all night long.”

“Have you?” Carly squirmed, a pulsing heat beginning between her thighs as hungry lips blazed a path down her throat.

“Being around Violet and Sam got me thinking. Wishing. Wondering if we could possibly share more than the work. But, I wanted to be sure I gave you time to do your job, y’know?” His free fingers tugged the hem of the cool satin gown up to her waist as he shifted his powerful legs to settle between hers. “Did you manage to connect with your rock? Finish your little fantasy, Carly?”

“Yes.” Her hoarse whisper became little more than a moan as his wandering hand traced the curve of her buttock, tilting her hips and drawing her hard against his throbbing cock. “Oh
yes
.”

“Then you won’t mind if we work on one of mine.”

Parker held her arms fast, adjusting his body, his solid heat seeking her soft, moist warmth. She raised her legs in response, wrapping them around his waist as she had imagined, dear God, so many times, her hips already moving urgently against him. Foreplay could wait for some other time when she didn’t want him so desperately. She didn’t need teasing or coaxing. She’d wanted him from the first.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breathed. “You have no idea how often I’ve fantasized about this.” He cupped her breast, inhaled when she gasped, and rolled the nipple lightly between thumb and forefinger. A starburst of white-hot lust slammed into her belly at his touch, and he smiled when she lurched beneath him. “Open wider for me, Carlotta.
Wider
. I need to have all of you.”

She breathlessly obliged, purring with the rhythm of his tongue against her nipple. He held on tight, lightly suckling, groaning in satisfaction at her body’s urgent response.

He was driving her insane. Oh, she could screw this man to death. Oh yes, she could. “Let me go,” she whispered. “Please. I need to touch you.”

“Not now. Can’t. It’s been too long. I don’t want to lose control too soon. I’ve been waiting for this since…since nightgown number three, the little off-the-shoulder white number that became transparent when we had to run through the rain. Three o’ five a.m., in the parking lot of that Best Western motel. I wanted to throw you down on the ground and take you right there, duty be damned.”

Carly struggled, desperate to free her hands. She needed to draw him closer, get him inside her. Why was he hesitating? Why was he taking so long? There wasn’t time for this.
No time
.

“
Shhh
,” he murmured softly. “A woman who mercilessly teases a man until he’s half-mad with wanting her deserves the full treatment. I want to enjoy every minute, every second of this. I want you slowly, deeply, Carly. I want it to be something we remember when everything else is gone.” One searching finger slipped between her thighs, lightly brushing the tender bud of her clit and sending hammering waves of heat through her body. “That’s it. Let me have you, babe. Let me…”

Parker smothered her moan with a hard kiss, his mouth taking hers with a feral hunger. His weight rested on steely arms, and his cock, weeping and swollen, was poised at her entrance. “Now, Carly. Now.”

The sound of something like a distant blast shivered around them, over them, and the bed whipped violently across the room to slam into the opposite wall. The noise became louder, a thundering rumble, followed by the ear-splitting crack of what could only be the earth breaking open beneath them. Parker fell to her side, then slid back over her as the earth heaved the old floorboards up, and shattered glass blew in like rain from the window.

Carly screamed, holding on to him for dear life as he tried to protect her body with his. This couldn’t be happening. It was too soon, too cruel. They’d never had a chance…

And then her scream went silent, his dead weight crushing her, her mouth and nose filling with sand-fine particles of dirt and ash that replaced the air in the room, in the crypt, until everything surrounding her was dark and cold and—

“
God!
”

Carly sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath, her wide eyes searching the darkness for some sign of life.

A dream. An
uncontrolled
dream. An old fashioned scare-the-shit-out-of-you nightmare.
God
.

Her trembling hand reached out, barely managing the switch on the lamp. She needed light, and then regretted it as the glare of the cheap yellow bulb seared her teary eyes.

This was reality, at least for now. She’d had to remind herself of that more and more often lately.

They’d been warned of the danger in being able to visualize so vividly. They might actually lose themselves in their own virtual dreamscapes. There was a rumor that one or two of the One Hundred’s first initiates had done just that, never to know sanity again. They’d been secured in private sanitariums, at least until the crisis was resolved. Word was that they’d relinquished all touch with reality, victims of their own fictions.

Apparently, that risk included the night terrors that lurked, waiting for a chance to take root and ravage a too-fertile mind.

She had to get a grip. To allow such a dream to shake her faith in their power could be disastrous. There could be no room in her psyche for fear right now. Panting for breath, she dashed the overflowing tears from her face a split second before a gentle knock pattered against her door.

“Carly? You okay?”

She’d been right. The man never slept, at least not soundly. “Fine.” She choked on the word, could’ve sworn she still tasted the terror. Pushing her disheveled hair back, she cleared her throat. “Just fine, Munroe. Sorry. Bad dream.”

“
You
have
nightmares?
”

Carly could hear the smile in his voice. How nice that she could be entertaining for him. Bastard. Falling back against the pillow, she sighed. A
very
realistic dream. Damn if she wasn’t still hot and wet for him. “I always knew that, if we ever happened, the earth would move.”

“What?”

Things didn’t have to be like this between them. She could invite him in. Toss her pride, have a taste of heaven before all hell broke loose. She could open the door, toss off her damp, wrinkled gown and bluntly tell him she wanted to ride him until she was raw.

Yes, she wanted him to come in. She wanted him to come inside
her
. She could make that a reality. He might be tough, but he wasn’t immune to temptation. She’d seen more than one military salute in those civilian jeans of his.

Carly rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms, still breathing hard. Who was she kidding? No way. Yes, the fireworks between them in the dream had been as explosive as she’d imagined they would be. But lest she’d forgotten what could happen if her attention was diverted, that lucid experience of the planet disintegrating was certainly terror enough. There was no way she’d manage any sort of intimacy after that horror. The nightmare had left her scared and uncertain. About him, herself, her ability and what was to come.

Some heroine she was. Sure, she was going to help save the world. She couldn’t even control her own boogeymen. “I said steak and potatoes. I was dreaming of conjuring up steak and potatoes for you. You know, with that silly magic stuff you don’t believe in.”

“Ah, well, Vic only does eggs. You can forget about that coming true, at least until we move on.” She could hear his boots shuffling restlessly outside. It didn’t take much to picture that big, finely honed body in perfect detail, pacing just beyond her door, ready to protect her from the rest of the world, if need be. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the image away.

“You sound funny. Need anything?”

He sounded odd too. A little nervous and, somehow, a distance away now.

“Carly? Sure you don’t want me to come in?”

No. She couldn’t let him in. She couldn’t afford these distractions, when so many more important things were at stake. Good Lord, the man was haunting her dreams. And as badly as she wanted him, she simply had to maintain her focus.

“Yeah. I’m sure. Thanks anyway, but there’s nothing I need.” Beyond an ice-cold shower, and that would be a bit obvious. “Don’t sweat it. I’m fine, Munroe.” She extinguished the lamp and pulled the blankets over her head. Yes, she would work on that meal for him. She had to be good for something, after all. “Go back to your dreams, big guy. Hold ’em close. I hope they’re a damn sight better than mine.”

Parker settled onto his mattress with a grunt, viciously kicking the comforter off the bottom of the bed.

Tonight was the end of it. As soon as it was feasible, he’d get her to a standard safe house and call in a request for transfer.

It wasn’t enough that he’d made a fool of himself in the drugstore. Not enough that the slightest sound from her room was enough to send him running. He’d actually stood outside her door for a full hour after she’d settled down, listening like some candy-assed moonstruck kid—without his gun.

Dammit all to hell, what if they’d been under attack? He’d been so anxious to get to her, he’d forgotten his weapons, left them in the common room. Which meant he’d officially lost what little mind he had left.

Of course, he could always beat an intruder to death with his dick. It had certainly been hard enough.

The faint edges of daylight feathered the horizon, and he doubted he’d get much shut-eye. Tossing restlessly on the bed, he realized his need was so strong he actually felt feverish. And he’d had every intention of taking Sam’s advice. He wasn’t much for the Cro-Magnon stuff, but he wanted to break into that bedroom, mount her and ask all the bullshit questions later. To thrust as far into her as humanly possible and pour out all the weeks of sexual frustration he’d endured. He could’ve helped her feel better too, kept her so aroused she’d forget about dreams.
All
of them.

The noise from her bedroom had brought on this current testosterone attack. Just before his cautious interruption, he’d heard the moaning, the telltale movements on the bed and the climactic cry to her maker. Unless he missed his guess, something seriously sexy was going on behind that closed door. Had she been masturbating in there?

She’d probably been touching and pleasuring that firm, full body, and he would’ve given anything to see it—even more to make it unnecessary. A woman like that shouldn’t need to do herself. She should have men standing in line, waiting for the privilege—and one idiot on retainer who didn’t have the right to ask.