Bent (The Gifted Series) (10 page)

    *     *     *     *

              Carter was seconds from spilling, desperate for that damn tank top.  Joss’ lithe body clung to him with an intensity he’d never felt from a woman.  Her entire body trembled and flexed against him. Man, if there was ever a time for that bright-ass fluorescent light to come on, now was the time, shining over ever muscle of her naked frame as she convulsed over and over.

              He continued to lightly stroke her swollen, dripping folds, and sweet Jesus, her hips continued their subtle grind.  
Fucking phenomenal
!  Her whimpers against his neck blew his mind with their raspy depths.  He couldn’t help but imagine the noise she would make if in a different setting.  He dug chics who got vocal, and no doubt, this one would.

              Although her hand still held a death grip around his cock, she had ceased her stroking in the midst of an orgasm that astounded him.  His hand slowly left the warmth of her center, and she gave a subtle start, no doubt coming back to earth.  Her hand began stroking as if realizing it had a job to do.

              His head fell back at the pleasure of her rhythmic strokes.  It had been a long while since a woman jerked him off; he preferred woman for oral entertainment before diving into fuck-time, and always handled the hand jobs alone, but this woman seemed consumed with having to pleasure him.  Hell, she even moaned, dropping her mouth to his nipple and dragging a wet tongue around in languid circles before nipping.

              “Fuck,” he hissed.  He could feel his release creeping up.  She gave another soft bite to his nipple and then to his utter shock, she mumbled a juicy curse and descended upon him.

              “I’ve got ta taste ya,” she muttered breathlessly before her mouth wrapped around his cock and slowly sucked him in.

              He frowned into the darkness. Did her voice of desperation really say
I’ve got ta taste ya
?

              “Christ,” he hissed, unable to control his hip thrust. He was in momentary shock, which instantly switched to freaking paradise as she took him to the back of her throat and began repeating the motion.  Her hands followed her mouth and added just the right amount of pressure. And if this wasn’t a dude’s perma-dream, she then added soft moans as if she was the one on the receiving end of this tongue party.  “Ah …sweet thing” was all he could mutter as his hand thrust into the silkiness of her hair.

              She continued her tormenting pace, driving him to madness then edging off to a delectable tease.  His need to blow built, tensing every muscle in his body, and then she halted so deep that he had to fist his mouth to hold back a grunt that would wake the dead.  As she pulled back up, her tongue did this un-fucking-believable swirl around his cock and that did it, sent him over the edge.

              “Pull out,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

              With her mouth around the tip of his cock, she muttered, “Never.”

              With that, she descended upon him just as he exploded into her mouth. He fought back a primal roar of ecstasy while she sucked and drank him down, cupping and caressing his balls as she greedily took every drop.

              Seconds later two words surfaced from Carter’s sexual haze. “Fucking Nirvana.”

    *     *     *     *

              Leah watched as Declan winced, pulling the pay phone receiver away from his ear.  He then brought it closer, brows furrowing, and she could see him mouthing, “Hello?  Hello?”  She turned her attention toward Bowen, who sat in the driver’s seat. 

              He chuckled gruff and low.  “I suspect Declan just got bawled out and cut off.” 

              Leah only grunted in agreement.  This was the first contact they’d made in four days, and like a couple of sissies, she and Declan had roshambo’d to see who had to make the daunting call.  Bowen couldn’t have cared less if they made contact at all.  He suggested they wait until they had sound proof of Joss’ and Carter’s whereabouts and then call the camp for back up, but both Declan and Leah agreed that contact was necessary.  Yes, they’d left a brief note, but Leah couldn’t sleep another night without Gracen knowing she was truly okay.

              When they took off, they’d taken only cash, weapons, and purchased disposable phones along the way.  Bowen proved an expert at disappearing, highjacking vehicles daily, and keeping them in remote accommodations that certainly didn’t cut the AAA mustered. 

              They’d now been in the Medford area for two days, spending the first two driving scenic routes along the Oregon coast and inland—Bo feared that they may have missed clues the first time he’d searched.

              Since their arrival, Declan and Leah had sensed unusual activity, high clusters of auras in certain areas, which didn’t match the agency’s numbers of registered gifted for the region. 

              “Doesn’t look happy,” grumbled Bowen toward Leah, his eyes on Declan as he walked back toward the car.

              Declan climbed into the backseat, grumbling as well. “Gettin’ kicked in the nads would have been more enjoyable than that.”

              “Who’d you talk to?” Leah asked, wheeling around to face him.

              He gave her a cantankerous grin. “I started off with a lovely arse-chewing by Mattis.  Then, T ripped the phone from his grip and an arse-chewing turned into a very loud and thorough description of where T planned to implant his foot upon seeing my ‘leprechaun mug’ again.” Declan huffed. “Homeland it is.  You and I are definitely buzzing off to Ireland after this.”

              She cringed. “Did he ask to speak to me?”

              “What do you think?” Declan scowled.  “Of course he did.”

              “What did you tell him?”

              This brought an about face—Declan lit in a jovial smile. “I went for honesty and told him you were a scared chicken-shit”

              “Thanks,” she sulked, turning back around with a defeated plop.  

              Declan then stated toward Bowen, “Oh, and I overheard Reagan hollering in the background … something about you needin’ to run and hide for dragging Leah on yer escapade.”

              Bowen pulled out into traffic, chuckling with amusement.  “Ray was always a firecracker, popping off with threats.  Gotta lover her, eh?”  He glanced toward Leah, who sat lost in thought.  “Hey, Leah, you knew what you were getting into, so stop sulking.”

              She wielded sharply. “I’m not sulking!  But forgive me if I spend a moment hoping that I don’t return to a failed relationship.”

              Bowen placed both his hands over the top of the steering wheel and turned them palms up. “Hope in one hand.” He raised his left. “Or shit in the other.” He then raised his right. “And which one gets filled first?”

              Declan muffled a laugh, but muttered something about Bowen being cold.

              Leah gave Bowen a piercing glare and barked, “I can see why your such a loner.  Most assholes are.”

              Bowen only snorted with mirth. “Looks like I got another McGafferty firecracker on my hands.” Her glare forced him to lay off and get serious. “Back to business.  We’re heading northeast.”             

              Leah glanced at the map, muttering, “We’re on Crater Lake Highway.  Why this direction?”

              “We’ll be turning off and heading east on the 140.”

              “Lake”—Leah read off the map—“of the Woods Highway?”

              Declan asked, “Is it familiar?”

              “Yeah.” Bo nodded. “It is, but I have yet to place why.  Plus, you both felt a stronger presence the farther north we drove yesterday.”

              “True,” Leah agreed, “and it’s remote enough.”  Although they hadn’t had any opportunity to drive in this direction yet, they had felt a strong presence.

              They took the exit and continued east bound.  Leah tapped into her feelers, noting emotional vibes of those around them and randomly reading people in vehicles that passed by. The farther they drove the more wide spread the homes became and Leah strained to read those around her.  The road began to curve and the elevation rose. 

              “Stop,” Declan barked.

              “You got something?” Bo asked, veering off into a slight turnout.  “This is a horrible spot to pull over, so make this quick?”

              Leah rubbed her chest.  “I feel it too, hostility and …desolation.”

              “Keep going.” Declan flagged him onward. “Find a better pullout.  We’ve got to scope this out.”  Bowen drove around another blind corner and they noted two gravel roads on either side of the road. The one on the right descended into a secluded gulch and the one on the left ascended into the hillside.  Both were infuriatingly secluded.  On the righthand side sat a row of mailboxes, maybe six or seven, indicating multiple residences.

              Bowen looked up the highway and nodded. “There’s a turnout above.  Let’s park there, if we’re lucky we’ll spot someone coming and going.”  With that they pulled up, Bowen pulling the vehicle as close to a cluster of pines as he possibly could. 

              Declan jumped out. “Bo, give us ten minutes, I’ll head south and sense what I can.  Leah head north, but stay in the shadows.” This barked with authority.

              Leah huffed, closing the car door. “Okay,
Dad
.  Geesh, I’m not a complete moron.” She then hustled across the two-lanes and surged up the embankment into the dense coverage. 

              Leah half jogged, leaping over down logs and ducking low branches, appreciating the thick ponderosa pines and birch.  She only saw one residence so far, tucked one hundred yards directly east. She checked her watch noting that five minutes had passed.  The desolation she’d initially felt hadn’t left but hadn’t strengthened either. Damn, she needed to turn back; they’d have to return later in the evening.  Just as she wielded around, she heard a car approaching and was hit with a stomach-gripping surge of …emptiness but backed by fury.  Maybe they were transporting one of their hostages.

              Crouching down, she hid behind a ponderosa and barely glanced around the tree.  She saw a silver SUV approaching.  She zoomed in long enough to see the Toyota Highlander emblem on the front.  Jerking her head back, she cursed, unable to get the plate number.  Once the Toyota passed, she surged forward, sprinting toward the highway.  They had to follow this vehicle. 

              As she sprinted the final stretch, leaping over another fallen tree and trying not to break an ankle, she saw Bo easing onto the road—Declan in the passenger’s seat. 

              Panting, she practically dove into the backseat.  “Follow … the …”

              “Highlander,” Declan answered.  “We know.  We’re about a minute behind.”

              “Could you tap him?” Leah asked Bowen.

              “Didn’t need to,” Bo growled.  “I know him up close and personal.”

              “One of Patrice’s?” This said more as a statement.

              Bo glanced back at her through the rearview. “Yes.  A guy named Samuel Harding. He’s in tight with Patrice.”

              “So what’s the plan for him?”

              “We nab him and beat the information out of him.”

              Leah frowned.  “Is he a strong reader or does he have an impenetrable shield like Dec?  I mean why not tranqu him, get what we need, and be done with it?  Time constraints, men—the sooner we get the info, the closer we are to freeing Carter and Joss.”

              Bowen sneered. “I understand the urgency of finding Carter and Joss, but revenge weighs heavy, and I will seek it.  I’m goin’ old school on Samuel.”

              Declan added, “I want in on that.  The knacker’s loyal to the Landons and wronged my kin.”

              In that moment, Leah thought of her mother, Caroline, who’d been ruthlessly murdered by Marcus Landon.  It appeared that all Landons, and those associated with them, were an arrogant menace. 

              Going old school on Samuel suddenly sounded like a beautiful day in neighborhood.

Chapter 8

Bright light intruded his dark solitude.  Carter placed his arm over his eyes, clamping them shut.  Mentally, he smiled.  You wouldn’t think it possible considering his circumstances but images of the previous night’s escapades—the previous week’s for that matter—drifted through.

              He and Joss had begun a nightly ritual of unbelievable foreplay, but no sex.  They hadn’t breached that boundary line.  He knew she longed for it as much as he did, yet they seemed to have an unspoken agreement to hold back. And it wasn’t because of birth control.  Apparently, Joss received a shot by Patrice’s doctors.  Carter was determined not to stew on the reasons why she needed birth control.  The fury that would rise would do nothing for their cause, and besides, he was angry enough with his suspicions of what had already been done to her.  He’d only asked once if Joss had been sexually assaulted, to which she generalized with, “Bad things happen to all those in captivity by the Landons.  I’m no exception.”

              He didn’t bring it up again and neither did she. Maybe that’s why he cherished the foreplay the two engaged in.  Knowing in his heart that she’d been assaulted, yet she still longed for his touch and for him to bring her to the ultimate release, even if it was only with his hand or mouth. 

              He also had to admit that the idea of sex with Joss felt too personal—too significant.  And sadly, this conscience-growing
biz
was a new attribute that he wasn’t sure he wanted.  He’d never once felt wary of having sex because of the possible mental retaliation is would cause him. 

              He wondered if Joss felt the same but refrained from asking.  Again, it seemed too personal, and she closed down immediately if the boundaries of ‘too personal’ were reached.  He understood; it made sense.  I mean, here they were, two strangers, captured and forced together, and what exactly were they doing with their time?  Falling in serious lust, or was it—big gulp—
love
?  It was to much to process at the moment.  Maybe once freed Carter would acknowledge these feelings because that was undeniably what it felt like, but until then, he’d continue to savor their sweet late-night playtime together.