Phoenix Rising I (12 page)

Read Phoenix Rising I Online

Authors: Morgana de Winter,Marie Harte,Michelle M. Pillow,Sherrill Quinn,Alicia Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

BOOK: Phoenix Rising I
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By the time he could catch his breath, both he and Summer were naked from the waist up. Her skin was as he’d imagined, both soft and hard, her breasts so succulent they made his mouth water. Bending her back, he took the tip of one in his mouth, closing his eyes as he suckled and nipped, licking her into moans of need.

“Drake, oh, God. More.”

He continued to caress her, kneading one breast while sucking at the other. Every shift, every movement made his cock that much harder. He could feel himself nearing the edge, the moisture seeping from his tip preparing for the explosive orgasm he could feel coming.

“The bedroom,” he growled, following her breathy directions. Carrying her limp form with him, he dropped her to the bed and stepped out of his clothes in record time. Stripping her was as much pleasure as torture. White lace thong panties covered the small forest of curls guarding her pussy, and it was all he could do not to rip them off and plunge inside her like an animal.

“Drake,” she urged, pulling at him to cover her. “I need you, now. Right now.”

“Fuck, yes,” he said, too needy to be flowery. Pulling the thong off her, he paused before mounting her. Leaning over her thighs, he spread them wide, then nudged her folds apart to stare at her perfectly wet clit. “Oh, baby,” he murmured before closing his mouth over her.

She arched into his tongue and cried his name, her orgasm slamming into her with such force it nearly took him as well. Emotions and energy swirled between them, and then Drake was covering her, surging inside and thrusting. The moment, the now, beckoned him onward, and he took and took as she clenched around him.

“Ah, ah Summer,” he groaned as he neared the edge. Thrusting one hard, final time, he shot inside her, his climax obliterating everything but Summer Michaels from his mind. The sheer pleasure had him locked in place, unable to do more than sear her with his cum.

When he could at last breathe again, he felt her stroking his back and looked down into her contented face.

“I can’t believe how incredible that is.”

“Oh?” He leaned over her on his elbows, grazing her breasts with his chest and grinning at the hardening of her nipples. Just as he leaned down to take one in his mouth, he noted the color of her bedspread. Denim blue. And her sheets, they were white with blue checks. Seeing them brought a vague memory to focus.

“Drake?”

“How do I know what your sheets look like? How did I know how good you would taste?” He stared at her as a vague suspicion took hold. “We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”

She watched him, her beautiful gaze both satisfied yet sad. And the accusations he’d been drawing died on his lips. Hunger for Summer blazed in him again, and he began kissing his way down her throat to her breasts.

Summer sighed. Lorie had as good as told her today that if Drake couldn’t remember their time together on his own, he would never be able to overcome her nature. Oh, he could help her sustain her hungers without damage to himself, but he’d never be able to join her in a healthy, meaningful relationship, not if they were to continue having sex.

She hadn’t meant to make love to him again, but he’d come to her door, uninvited. And, well, she was only human, albeit a sexually enhanced human. She could no more turn Drake away than she could stop her heart from beating.

His mouth reached her naval and she inhaled sharply. How he could still make her want after satisfying her so thoroughly mystified her. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think Drake had her tendencies. Before she allowed the heat to build again, she drew him to her side and lazily stroked his chest, making eye contact, as Lorie had instructed.

“Drake,” she said huskily. “I want you to answer a few questions for me.”

His eyes darkened and he smiled, his invitation clear. “Sure, Summer. What do you want to know?” He caressed her fingers, stroking her palm, and she did her best to quell the sudden heat he ignited.

“Have you ever been involved in a serious relationship?”

He paused. “Once, a long time ago before I joined the academy. But she wasn’t meant to be a cop’s wife, and a cop is all I ever wanted to be.”

“But have you ever thought about having a family of your own?” Like maybe with me?

“Yes and no. I’d like to marry and have kids some day, I guess. But I’m so focused on work right now I don’t have time for much else.” He made love to her with his eyes and murmured, “Except when it comes to you.”

She wanted to ask him more, but his mouth found hers and she quickly lost track of all but the need building within her. Just as intense as the first time they’d made love, their intimacy now soothed as much as satisfied her cravings.

After an hour of twisting positions and sweaty fulfillment, she smiled and looked into Drake’s face, only to see him falling asleep. Sighing, she brushed the hair off his forehead and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

“If only you were truly mine,” she whispered in his ear . Hours later, she watched him dress and leave with regret. After showering , she set her alarm and slid under the covers, wondering how she would face him having knowingly taken advantage of the man.

Just another day in the life of a succubi. She hiccupped around a tear. Lorie would love that line. * * * *

Summer spent the next three days in purgatory, loving Drake at night until neither one could move, watching him leave her house with a blank look on his face, and seeing him the following day as her professional superior, Lt. Nichols. Thankfully, he’d been so busy with the new surveillance on targeted Illuso dealers and the case’s accompanying detail that he’d been absent for much of the days.

But the nights.

Ay madre. She wanted to scream. The sex was incredible, so much because it was more than sex. Summer had been making love to her fantasy man, the gruff but tender Drake Nichols. Handsome, well-muscled and extraordinarily skilled in the art of love-making. Dangerous yet tender, he made her heart stop when he looked at her before thrusting inside her. It was as if he could see inside her very soul--

“Michaels, wake the hell up." Lt. Nichols had returned in full force. "You and Tannon are in plain clothes tonight. I want you to check out that new bar on Fourth and Levy. Rumor has it the place is a wholesaler just waiting for the right

dealers to join the mix.”

She scowled. So much for fantasies.

“Michaels?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes hard. “Problem?” A spark flickered in his eyes, one that made hers widen.

“No, no problem.” Hell, yes, there was a problem. I’m addicted to your loving, and the minute you realize I screwed with your memories, I’m out of a job, and no doubt out of your life.

As she scurried to find Lorie, she wished she knew how to break the tension that now existed between her and Drake. Loving him night after night was getting to her, and apparently it was influencing him, as well. She hadn’t missed those sidelong glances he gave her when he thought she wasn’t looking. But dammit, did that mean he found her attractive, or that he remembered? And if he remembered, would he do anything about it? Would he act all holier-thanthou and cut off the relationship so as not to interfere with their professional association? Or would he be so angry she’d influenced his thoughts--a definite no-no, particularly for a member of Spec Squad--that he’d fire her for unethical conduct?

She flushed. What she’d done was unethical. No matter that he wanted her just as much. The man’s mind couldn’t hold both the Calling and her sexuality. What a crappy heritage.

“Yo, Summer. I’ve been standing here for like a minute. What’s up?” Lorie narrowed her eyes and dragged her into the bathroom.

After checking under the stalls to make sure they were alone, she shook her head. “You have to let him go. Please tell me you aren’t still seeing him?”

“It’s not my fault.”

Lorie smacked herself on the forehead and cursed.

“He keeps visiting me at night, wanting to know why he’s got these memories of me, ah, dressed in practically nothing. And I can’t help it. He’s so hot I just forget everything but him.” It sounded lame even to her ears. But Lorie looked at her curiously.

“He’s the one instigating your meetings, not you?”

She nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. It’s hard enough to be around him at work, but I’m dealing. But at night, he’s hounding me! And of course I can’t say no. You’ve seen him. Imagine him naked.”

Lorie rolled her eyes. “Give me a heart attack why don’t you? Look, Summer. Your situation with Hotbod goes way beyond anything I’ve ever heard. When one of us meets a guy we like, he either remembers us, in which case sister and lover may decide to live happily-ever-after, or he can’t recall his name, in which case sister uses and loses him.” At Summer’s shudder, she amended, “Sorry, that sounded harsh.”

“But true.”

“But true.” Lorie agreed. “You’re unique.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s psychically gifted and it’s messing with your abilities. Whatever the case, you’ve got to focus on the here and now at work.”

Summer flushed. “I know.” She could only be thankful the past few days had been slow, with more computer and investigative work than operationally driven labor. “I promise to forget about him during the day.”

Lorie huffed in disbelief.

“Okay, I’ll try to forget about him. But Hotbod just gave us an assignment. We have to scope out Godzi’s on Levy.”

Lorie brightened. “I’ve been meaning to check that place out.”

“For Illuso?”

Lorie’s smile dropped. “Shit. Are we going as pro’s or civvies looking for a good time?”

“What do you want to do?”

Lorie grinned, a mischievous look that made Summer groan.

“Hell. I’ll tell Stella we need access to the Pro Locker.”

* * * *

Several hours later, Summer did her best to ignore the jibes and wolf

whistles from her Y-chromosomed coworkers as she finished dressing in the Spec locker room. She’d donned the intimate articles in the women’s changing room, but the boots she’d left in her locker. Scotson whistled as she donned the boots and offered her a twenty, and she pleasantly told him to kiss her ass. Chuckling, he tipped a non-existent hat at her.

Sexual harassment was an alien concept in Spec and a woman who couldn’t handle these nimrods didn’t belong in the elite squad. Much as she hated parading around in such garb, she knew Thomas or Deklin would get as much crap when they went undercover.

Personally, she liked when Richards played bouncer. His arms and chest made for some hot if harmless fantasies. And Deklin as a bum was so in keeping with his character. The door opened as their obnoxious coworkers exited and a few more entered, preparing to go off-shift.

Great. Speak of the devil ….

“Nice ass, Tannon.” Deklin leered. “Maybe you wanna check out O’Leary’s instead?” His partner and Richards chuckled. O’Leary’s was an infamous strip club known for its busty dancers.

“Not a bad idea,” Lorie said, cocking her hip with a grin. “I hear that’s where you spend all your time now that your wife kicked you to the curb. I could stand to make some real money.”

His buddies ribbed him, Richards especially as he gave Lorie a thorough once-over.

“Very funny,” Deklin mumbled. For all that he and Lorie constantly sparred, Deklin wasn’t a bad guy. He needed to be put in his place for some of his antiquated ideas about women, though. “Summer Michaels,” he said with a growing smile. “If you aren’t a wet dream come to life, I don’t know--” He stuttered and turned to fiddle with his locker, hanging up his sport coat.

“What’s the matter, Deklin? Did your brain finally kick into gear?” Summer asked wryly and finished adjusting the tight bustier around her ribs.

“I should hope so,” Drake said quietly from behind her.

She spun around and met his angry stare. Eyeing her and Lorie, he didn’t spare her coworkers a second glance.

“Deklin, Thomas, Richards, have a good night. And get out.”

The three left with a smirk in her direction, not letting the door hit them as they hightailed it out of the room.

“Who authorized this?” he wanted to know.

Lorie shrugged. “It’s not out of procedure to work undercover, L.T. I decided--”

“--We decided.” Like she’d let Lorie take the blame for this stupid idea.

“We decided,” Lorie continued with a subtle grin, “to look more authentic.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the lockers. His gaze slowly catalogued Lorie’s getup with clinical detachment. But when his eyes locked on Summer’s costume, if one could call it that, they fairly sizzled.

Ever so slowly he ran his gaze from her neck to the deep ‘v’ of her scarlet bustier, down past the tanned skin of her exposed belly and lower, to the hip-hugging black leather micro-skirt and thigh-high boots.

“I won’t ask where you stashed your weapons.” His voice was thick, his silver eyes gleaming with obvious lust. Barely banking it behind a cough, he ran his hand through his hair and exhaled heavily. “We need this surveillance to go smoothly, and without a doubt those … clothes … will get you through the door. Just don’t fuck it up,” he murmured, unable to tear his stare from Summer’s cleavage. “And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Christ, that’s all we’ll need tonight. To have you two busted for solicitation.” He shook his head and casually realigned his stance.

Lorie chuckled. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I info’d Vice we’re going undercover, and Narc is well-aware of what both Summer and I look like. We’ll handle this like pro’s.”

He rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Tannon. Get the hell out of here before I change my mind.” He glanced at Summer again, his eyes promising what his body already knew.

They left using a back stairway and had a fellow officer drop them off a few blocks from Godzi’s in an unmarked car. Harry sped off at Lorie’s signal, and they walked slowly down the strip, two high-priced hookers looking for a good time in a better-than-average neighborhood.

“I cannot believe Hotbod was sporting a major hard-on for you in the locker room,” Lorie murmured, strutting in heels as if she’d been born to them

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