SILVER: Acheron (A River of Pain) (The SILVER Series) (20 page)

Luka smirks. “It’s not premium grade, I’ll give you that.”

“Oh, no, it could be, if you market it as an exfoliating tool.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Whip out your sensitive fleshy bits, and you tell me.”

Luka doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, he gets up off the couch and peels off his Police Division shirt.

Whoa.

Silver hasn’t seen him shirtless since they were kids, and the difference in his appearance renders her speechless. The skinny little boy she grew up with has developed a physique capable of making even the most rugged of Hunters jealous.

Silver struggles to get her tongue untied. “I was joking …”

Still smirking, and secretly bolstered by the reaction Silver so hopelessly failed to conceal, Luka holds the shirt out to her.

“Here, put this on.”

Her heart suddenly pounding, Silver feels her cheeks flush as she steps within arm’s reach of him and sheds the towel in favor of his offering. Keeping his eyes most carefully pinned to hers, Luka helps her on with the shirt and nothing more. He settles back down onto the couch, messing with something on his PDA.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him. He was nice to look at, and she’d always thought so. His sandy hair and those bright, green eyes had made him an instant favorite among the girls in the Academy. Consequently, he never had to chase any tail very far before he brought it to its knees with his endless charm and that cheeky, boyish grin.

In that way, he’d always been the complete opposite of Alex.

Alex remained largely oblivious to his own popularity with the opposite sex. A rather unassuming slice of muffin, he’d never been entirely sure how to deal with that type of attention. Never one to yo-yo between flames, Alex had always desired commitment and fidelity, and that had pulled Silver in toward him like the Earth’s eternal draw on the moon.

Finding it hard to shake off the self-esteem complex he’d acquired as a child, Alex had always been irrationally jealous of Luka. He feared Luka’s crush was much more than that, while, in the back of Silver’s mind, she wondered if the only reason Luka ever showed an interest in her in the first place was because hers was the only vagina that eluded him.

In any case, that was decades ago. Luka is all grown up now, though the reputation that still precedes him makes it difficult for him to meet the type of woman he really desires. Fun is only fun until you want something more, and he’s learning that the hard way.

Tired of pretending to text, and running out of ways to keep himself distracted, he pockets the PDA and reaches for a book on the coffee table. If he notices that Silver’s staring at him, he’s either too polite to say anything or he’s at a loss for precisely the right kind of sharp witted remark that’s usually already primed on the very tip of his tongue.

Pitifully lonely, and aching to feel something good again, Silver’s anatomy begins to tingle with arousal for the first time since she was abducted from her lover’s arms.

Trying to shake it off, she averts her eyes from his sculpted frame, and plants herself down on the cushion next to him. No gadgets to deflect the tension between them, she fidgets with her inner left wrist. With over a month of healing on her side, her skin is pink and fresh and smooth.

“Is it supposed to still be this itchy?”

Luka doesn’t even look up from the book. “I think you’re anemic. You’re not healing like you used to.”

“You’ve been keeping track?”

“I notice, that’s all. A vitamin deficiency might be slowing down your rate of cellular repair. That’d explain why your shoulder’s still bugging you.”

That catches Silver off guard. She can’t recall having told him about the dislocation; she didn’t want him to worry. It’d happened almost a month ago, courtesy of one of her bounties. Thankfully, Alice was with her and had strength enough to help pop it back in.

Freaky strength, for such a small woman.

“It’s fine.” Silver shrugs. “It’s been weeks.”

Proving a point, Luka reaches out and places his hand upon her shoulder. He presses his thumb hard, just below her collar bone, and squeezes her shoulder tight.

Silver squeals so loud any vermin within a hundred yards could hear her, and she punches his arm away. “Sadist!”

“Being so tense all the time isn’t helping either, just so you know.” Finally, he closes the book and gives her his full attention.         “Look, I know I shouldn’t, but I can hook you up with some prescription strength muscle relaxants. It’ll help you sleep, and they’re non-narcotic.”

Hmm.

His offer is tempting, but Silver shakes her head. “There’s better stuff for that.”

“I know. I found it in the pocket of your jeans.”

Silence.

Shit.

Silver had long since traded the Dodger’s crack for an assault rifle, but the barbiturates … well, she’d held on to those, just in case.

She doesn’t volunteer anything, so Luka pushes her.

“What’ve you been taking?”

“They’re painkillers.”

“Bullshit, it’s Phenobarbital.”

“Do you have any idea how much I hate it when you ask a question you already know the answer to?”   

“Do you have any idea how stupid you’d have to be to start taking that shit?”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it, Silver. ‘Casual’ isn’t in your vocabulary, remember?”

“If I told you I hadn’t taken any, would you believe me?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“If you’re not taking it, why do you have it? Sentimentality?”

For that last comment, he expects the reaction he gets: a swift open palm slap to the face, hard enough to leave her handprint behind.

He takes the hit in his stride and doesn’t back down. It’s not the first altercation they’ve ever had, and knowing Silver the way he does, he has no reason to believe it will be the last. Restraining her gently, he holds out for an answer to his question.

At last, all she gives him is: “Preparedness.”

“You’re a boy scout now?”

“Don’t piss me off, Luka. Else I’ll be out of here so fast you’ll—”

She never gets to finish that sentence.

Both her wrists held firmly in his grasp, he has complete control and he launches a kiss at her. He half expects her to try and free herself, but instead she takes him by surprise and kisses him back with just as much force.

If that’s not a symptom of desire, Luka doesn’t know what is.

Spreading her legs, he pushes her down onto her back on the couch and maneuvers himself in between, while she quickly recalibrates her logic. Perhaps she’s been too hard on herself, and maybe intimacy can be a lot like drinking whiskey: the first shot shocks your senses, but it gets easier with repetition.

So, the first time with another man will be an emotionally charged, painful debacle, but numbness might develop over time. Besides, it’s only sex. Men separate sex from feelings all the time, Silver rationalizes, and they don’t seem to be any the worse for it.

Quite apart from anything else, Alex would never know …

Fuck it, let’s try.

Cupping his face in her hands, she coaxes more kisses from his lips. Convinced by her sudden enthusiasm, he starts to rock his hips against her. Wearing only cotton underwear, there’s very little between her skin and his, and she can feel
every
thing …

But it’s not enough.

Sliding a hand down over his chest, she releases the zipper on his pants and slips her hand inside. Of course, he’s going commando. She’d expect nothing less of him, and this time his arousal doesn’t make her in the least bit nauseas.

Fumbling with the buttons of his own shirt on her, apparently incapable of controlling his own motor functions worth a damn, Luka makes one crucial mistake.

In his haste, groping her breasts over top of her bra, his thumb catches on those lethal dog tags.

Oops.

The soft clank of metal against metal sets a delicately balanced stack of dominoes tumbling in Silver’s brain.

Sex.

Love.

Alex.

…

…

…

Hurt.

Betrayal …

And that’s where the dominoes stop.

Betrayal.

Feeling Luka explore the region between her legs, her heart drops into the pit of her stomach. Her whole body tenses and she grabs his wrist, preventing his hand’s entry into her clothing. 

“Wait, stop. We can’t do this.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry.” Silver pushes herself away from him. “This isn’t right.”

Right on cue, the dryer signals the end of its cycle and Silver makes a dash for it. Pausing to tuck himself back into his clothing, Luka is a few seconds behind her, and she’s already half dressed by the time he walks in on her.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I think we should stop seeing each other, Luka.”

Deadly words.

He would disagree, but he says nothing. He only watches, helpless, while Silver laces up her boots.

Rubbing a tear from her eye, “I can’t do this.”

Misunderstanding the problem, Luka tries to remedy her mood. “If this is too fast, it’s okay. We can slow it down.”

“That’s not the problem, Luka, and you know it.”

“You just need time, that’s all.”

“I’m betraying him.”

Luka has no patience for that. “He thinks you’re dead, El.”

Silence.

More tears.

Suppressed.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says at last. “It doesn’t change how I feel.”

“Fine, then let’s just pretend this never happened.”

Silver scoffs at that. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m your official liaison with the Police Division. If you won’t see me, how am I supposed to get you supplies?”

“Maydevine can see to it.”

“And the rest?”

“Rest?”

“Companionship, Silver. I’m a lot more to you than just a loaf of bread and a tube of toothpaste. Admit it.”

“I want another Agent assigned to me.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“I don’t have a choice, Luka.”

“You’re overreacting.”

Silver finishes dressing, collects her weapons, and heads for the door. “You know I’m right.”

“All I know is, a moment ago, you were all over me, and now you’re freaking out. You shouldn’t be taking barbiturates, you should be taking mood stabilizers.”