LustAfterDeath (6 page)

She wanted to lean into him, collapse with the force of her
relief, but Bane kept a few inches between them.

“So I was seeing inside your mind?”

He nodded, then placed his hands on her shoulders and gave
her a friendly squeeze. “Yes. And if it makes you feel any better, I was
networked like that too. It sucks. But Frank reprogrammed me, and he’ll do the
same for you.”

She bobbed her head in agreement.

Bane let his arms fall to the sides. He stepped back down
into the boat. “In the meantime…” His eyes sparkled up at her, apologetic and
playful all at once. “I’ll watch what I’m thinking.”

An image flashed in her mind—a picture of her sleeping in
the bow of the boat, and the hem of Bane’s t-shirt riding up her hip.

“Hey!” Her flash of anger was edged with a hint of joy.

Bane shot her a devastatingly handsome grin, then ducked
back inside.

* * * * *

The
thwap-thwap-thwap
of helicopter blades echoed
overhead. As the machine calculated its landing position, the data streamed
into 402’s brain. He relayed to headquarters the supplies they’d need to
maintain the doctor in stasis until they could get him to the re-animation
facility in Redmond.

402 marched into the clearing to meet the team.

Ana stepped off the helicopter. She stood only five feet
tall, and with her black pixie haircut looked more like a wild teenager than a
forty-year-old stein, but she exuded a cold and absolute power that demanded
obedience. Without conscious direction, 402 took a step back.

“I need you to stream me an update as soon as possible,” Ana
said by way of greeting. She wouldn’t have received his transmission to
headquarters, isolated as she was from the rest of the Synaviv mind.

“Of course.” He fell in step behind her as she trudged up
the pathway leading to the woods. Apparently she’d been briefed on the lab’s
location.

Several more team members dismounted and filed behind them,
far too many for a simple retrieval. “If I may ask…” Ana didn’t receive
uninvited telepathy from any part of the Synaviv mind. “Why did you bring so
many?”

She spoke directly forward, requiring 402 to hurry to her
side to hear her reply. “The data you’ve downloaded so far suggests he’d be
easier to re-animate on-site. He’s already chipped, but so far he’s only
networked to his home server.”

Ana’s hatred of prolonged interaction showed in the rigidity
of her stance, and the slamming of her steps in the soil. 402 slowed so as to
fall behind.

“It’s imperative we capture Connor as well. There aren’t
many assassin models still in operation.”

“Why don’t we give chase by boat? He’s still in the islands
somewhere.” He hurried to keep pace while keeping his distance.

When they reached the house, Ana refused to approach the
door and eyed him expectantly. It wasn’t locked, but Ana was known to avoid
touching things whenever possible. He opened the door then stood back to allow
her passage through.

“He’ll expect a frontal attack. We need to lure him to us
instead.”

402 pondered her meaning but didn’t have time to reply.

“So where is this Doctor Love?”

402 knew she was telling a joke but wasn’t sure whether to
smile in response. He’d seen firsthand Ana’s treatment of scientists and steins
who’d built themselves girlfriends and wives. They usually ended up half
machine and plugged into the mainframe.

She had issues.

“The creator is in the lab downstairs.”

“Wonderful. I haven’t had the opportunity to work with one
so fresh in a long time.”

402 recognized the vicious leer on her face. He’d seen it in
the men who created love dolls. When Synaviv had promoted him to Operative,
he’d been proud to eradicate such evil from the planet. But all idealism faded
if exposed to enough reality.

“Oh, and 402.” Ana turned on her way down the stairs. “I’m
going to switch you onto voice command for the remainder of this project.” That
smile again. “Now.”

Black tendrils wove into his mind from the edges. 402 tried
not to show his discomfort, or worse, his anger as headquarters stole his body
and mind. Through the grayish smoke in his vision, he saw Ana’s look of
triumph, right before all went black.

* * * * *

Drizzling rain filled the air as Josie clamored up the trail
after Bane. Her feet swam in the rain boots he’d given her and she considered
that he hadn’t really thought through this plan very well in not bringing her
clothes from Adam’s house. The path curved up a hill, through tall trees whose branches
overlapped and wide-spanning trunks that dropped leaves the size of her head.

He hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders and cinched
the waistband tighter on his hips. The move drew her attention to the way the
smooth and stretchy material of his trousers hung from his behind. Her fingers
tingled to reach out and pinch the bunched muscles of his buttocks.

That brief glimpse of his thoughts echoed in her mind.
Clearly he hadn’t meant to do her harm and now that the shock faded, she
observed it from a different angle. Josie wondered at the snippet, curious
about where it might have led.

She ran her hands through the brush that rose around her.
Each branch was filled with droplets. Spikes pricked on some plants, others
felt smooth. One felt soft and downy at first, then stung her curious fingers
and Josie pulled her hand to her chest. Her legs ached as they summited the
hilltop.

Bane led her a small ways down the other side and he pointed
to a small clearing. “It won’t be the softest night’s sleep. But I’m so dead on
my feet I won’t care.”

Josie cocked her head to the side and noticed the way his
body slumped forward and his feet dragged. “This’ll be fine.”

He bent at one side to lower the pack to the ground. “I can
defend this, but I’ll want to catch some Zs before nightfall.” He kicked a few
stones out of the way. Then he pulled a pile of cloth out of his bag and rolled
it out on the mossy ground. Josie watched him slide metal sticks from the same
nylon bag. He adjusted them back and forth ’til they became long, skinny poles,
which he fed through loops of plastic on fabric.

“What is that?” Josie marveled at Bane’s skill as he
swiveled the metal tubes and the interior of the contraption inflated, forming
an oblong box.

“It’s a tent.” He rifled through the pack again, pulling out
several machines, which Josie now knew to be guns, and then two sleeping bags.
“We may have to zip these together to stay warm.” He didn’t meet her eyes. “But
I won’t try anything.”

He tossed a few more items into the enclosure and crawled
inside. Josie could tell she’d be able to fit too, but it would be a tight
squeeze. The idea of being in such a small space so close to Bane’s body again
sent shivers of anticipation fluttering along her back and shoulders, even
while a small tremor of nerves jolted between her legs.

The tent stretched one way, then another, as Bane organized
things within it. Something about the increasingly long stretches between his
movements told her he was dragging it out. “Um, I’m done. But I need to sleep
for a while.” The tone of his voice sounded like a question.

Josie went to her knees at the mouth of the tent and stuck
her head inside. “What do you want me to do?” She searched his deep-set eyes
for direction.

Bane rested on his heels, his knees splayed wide. The top of
his blond head nearly brushed the roof of the tent and his broad shoulders
filled the close space. “I’m asking if it’s okay with you if I rest for a
while.”

As she’d never been asked such a question, Josie didn’t know
how to answer. “Yes, it’s fine…” When he didn’t move, she struggled to clarify.
“Do you want me to come inside, or stay out there?” She jerked her thumb back
in the direction of her hips, which still poked out the tent’s door.

“Whichever you want, babe.” He said it with a small chuckle,
but Josie noted the redness creeping up his neck to play under the stubble on
his jaw. She remembered the way his chin had scraped hers when they kissed. Her
hand rose to cool the abrasion.

“I want to stay here.” She crawled into the tent alongside
Bane and lay on her side on the sleeping bag he’d rolled for her. “I want to
know… I want to understand what you were thinking before.”

Nervousness danced in her belly, but Bane turned away from
her and lay down on his own sleeping bag, his back to her, his head resting on
a small pillow. “Forget about it. It won’t happen again, and in a few days
neither of us will even remember this.” He made a show of yawning, stretching
and settling his body.

Imitating him, Josie stretched her arms above her head and
struggled to find a comfortable position on the ground. Bane had spread some
thin, inflatable pads under the sleeping bags, but it was far less comfortable
than her bed at Adam’s house, or the mattress on the boat.

The thin cotton of his t-shirt strained across his shoulders
and upper back. Josie scooted closer, until she nestled against the length of
him. A little jolt of excitement shot through her to feel his firm backside
against her hips, and she angled her body until those mounds pressed into the cradle
of her groin. Of course, that necessitated her laying a hand on his upper arm
for balance, and her face pressed between his shoulder blades.

“What are you doing?” The pillow muffled his voice.

Josie stopped shuffling, realizing she’d been pawing him.
“Nothing, just getting comfortable.” Instinct told her to pull away and roll
back to her side of the tent. Bane’s muscles felt stiff under her fingers. But
she didn’t want to let go.

“I only have so much self-control, babe.” He began rolling
her direction, and Josie scooted back to avoid getting squashed. When his gaze
fell on hers, it looked darker, and infinitely more scary than usual. “If you
don’t want a repeat performance of earlier, you’ll keep some distance.” His
look dared her to argue, demanded she slink to her corner and cower.

Well, Josie had done enough of that with Adam. “If you just
explained to me what you were trying to do…” Her voice rose and she struggled
to find the right words, but Bane’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. He
dragged her hand to the juncture of his thighs and pressed her palm to the
ridge along his fly. Only this time she knew what lay beneath, and what he
meant to do with it.

Bane held her hand steady and rubbed his groin against it
with a hard look in his eyes, and Josie understood—he wanted what she’d
experienced. Her heart leapt in understanding, and at the idea that she could
give another being such sensation as she’d felt.

Yet the part in her hand was thick, long and so hard she
imagined it must be filled with bone. “Bane…” She spoke in a steady voice,
knowing he was about to break in some way. “I don’t know what to do.”

His eyes closed at the next forward thrust of his hips.
“That feels good.” She experimented by gripping a little tighter through his
pants, and his mouth opened. She lifted her head and placed her lips on his. He
tasted soft and sweet and when he groaned again, she joined him, her own senses
rising in time with his.

Her mind spun with how to make it better for him, and her
fingers walked up to the fastening of his pants. Bane hissed into her mouth and
drew his hips back when she struggled to unzip his fly. He reached to help her
and Josie gasped in surprise when a hot weight jerked into her fist. The skin
felt like silk stretched taut over stone. Josie trailed her eyes down Bane’s
body, past the lifted t-shirt revealing ridges of muscles and shiny scars,
along the path of brownish-blond hair on his belly, to the appendage jutting
from between his legs.

It was thick as her wrist and twined with bluish veins. Its
reddish cap seeped clear fluid, and she passed her thumb through the moisture.

“Fuck, babe.” Bane reached a hand down to cover hers. He
clamped down hard and stroked her fist up his shaft. “Any chance you’d go down
on me?”

At that moment she might do anything, if she could only
understand what he asked. “What do you want me to do?” Her voice came out soft,
husky. It didn’t surprise her when he moaned at the sound.

“Put it in your mouth.”

Josie observed the body part in her hand and wondered how it
would fit in her mouth. But a warring curiosity wondered what it would taste
like. Still passing her hand up and down his member, Josie gave him a little
smile and rolled her eyes. “Well, since you explained what you meant…”

Chapter Six

Bane focused his thoughts on the beatific expression on
Josie’s face as she observed his cock from her position between his legs. He’d
rolled to his back and she’d taken up residence between his thighs, still
jerking him between her small, white hands. When her lips stretched wide to
accommodate the cap, he nearly shot right in her mouth. But he blocked the
thought before she could see it.

“Am I doing this right?” she rasped wetly against his head.
The fingers of one hand feathered onto his scrotum.

“Um…” he yelped. Bane swallowed and brought down the pitch
of his voice. “You’re doing great.” He saw her smile in the crinkle of her
eyes. “You know, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to!” she happily slurped. “Does this feel good?” She
swept her fingers over his ball sac and to his taint and Bane’s back arched.
The movement lodged his cock deeper into the wetness of her mouth. Josie
clamped her fist down at his base to hold him steady. She licked her way up and
placed a kiss on his tip, before giving him a scolding look. “Don’t choke me.”

“Okay.” He fought to keep his hips on the ground and she
slid her hand in another teasing pass. He knew she didn’t mean it to be
teasing. Josie just didn’t know to do it hard enough to get him off. He twined
his fingers in her ebony hair, though he resisted the urge to press her head
lower.