Dark Web (DARC Ops Book 2) (20 page)

“My head isn’t in a good place right now.”

“It will be, when it’s together with mine.” He held himself back, trying hard not to put any more weight into that sentence.

“Yeah,” Carly replied. “Maybe I’ll think better after a shower and some fresh laundry.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. “I’ll show you how to work the machine.”

* * *

S
he was
in better spirits after a shower and two beers, and after wearing fresh clothes. Tansy’s clothes. She was in even better spirits when they took their planning session outside, emerging from the Cold War sarcophagus to the humane shabbiness of the ranch house’s back deck. She sat reclined in an old rickety beach chair, relaxed, content, her bare legs crossed just under the hem of Tansy’s old marine silkies. Her fashion choice, and a good one, Tansy loved the way the shiny, silky green material looked against her creamy thighs. With her sight still blurred, Tansy could have picked any old pair for her. Instead, he’d let her rummage through his luggage bag, her hands stopping at the smooth material. “Oooh,” she’d said. “This feels good.” Her hands had run over the tiny shorts.

Good God. . . .

His own shorts, the ones he was currently wearing, needed adjusting after that.

His dick had a similar reaction while they were sitting out on the deck. He watched the way her thighs moved against the material when she uncrossed and crossed her legs again. No panties. Just thigh, all the way up.

“You don’t mind?” she’d said when she’d chosen them an hour earlier.

What a question. . . .

When they finally got on to planning, she still carried that sexy lightness about her, easing them back into familiar territory, back into comfort. Thank goodness. During the last two days—at least—she’d been put through the wringer. Now, exhausted and empty, and perhaps half drunk, her mind finally seemed freed and flexible enough for laying the groundwork that might finally get them out of this mess.

And she was ready to start it up. But under one condition.

“I need you to be my eyes,” she said.

“Haven’t I been doing that already?”

“I mean, for the work. There’s a lot of work to do.”

“I’ll type for you.” He smiled. “If you have a plan.”

She smiled back and looked away, her mind clearly working. Good. It freed Tansy back up to admire her finely sculpted legs. The soft mounds of her breasts under his t-shirt, a faded memento from the 2013 Marine Corps Marathon.

“I figured that I owed it to you,” she said, caressing her wrist. “A plan.”

“You owe me a lot more than that.” Would she catch him, read between the lines?

“I know.”

His hard-on emboldened, Tansy shifted in his chair, trying to place it just so without having to. . . . But would she even notice his hand if he adjusted his boxers? Would she see him sneak his hand inside for just a quick touch? A squeeze, wrapping his hand around the swollen head of his cock. They could talk strategy. No big deal.

He felt flushed and dizzy. And hot.

Too hot to talk strategy.

“We should go for a little walk.”

She breathed out a little laugh. “You think I’m in any condition for a walk?”

“I’ll help you. I thought you wanted me to be your eyes.”

“I don’t know, Tansy.” She finished her beer and placed it on the deck with a quiet thud. “I think you should just say it.”

“Say what?”

She smiled. “Say you want to hold my hand.”

“You should tell me the real reason for going quiet on me back then,” he said, watching her smile quickly fade. “You had a boyfriend.”

“That’s right. I had a boyfriend.”

“So you couldn’t talk to me.”

“That’s right.” She rubbed her eyes, most likely in vain.

There was no need to take it any further. Tansy’s concern now was his reaction to her answer. Was it pathetic that it excited him? That it gave him . . . hope?

Yep, he was definitely pathetic, as was his apathy—and even pleasure—in all the little ways she’d made him pathetic over the years. He forgot it all in a moment when she smiled. No woman had ever touched him like that. But what the hell did that mean?

“Don’t you want to hear about my plan?” she asked.

Did it mean that he should stay away from her?

“Tansy?”

“Yes,” he said. “Tell me about your plan.”

“We’ll do what they want, crack some codes for whatever security system they want deactivated. But it’ll only be a temporary fix, just long enough for us to get the hard drive.”

“Won’t they be expecting that?”

“In case they are, you and your boys can follow me.”

It sounded too dangerous. Too risky. Especially for Carly.

“You can put one of those tracking devices on me, right?”

He forced himself to ponder the validity of her plan, to forget that the idea of her walking into any sort of danger was close to giving him a heart attack. But before he could offer a criticism, she interrupted him with her own caveat, that it was an admittedly crazy and desperate idea. But an idea nonetheless.

“That it is,” said Tansy. “An idea.”

“Maybe even a good one,” she added.

“We’ll see.” He stood and took a step toward Carly. He needed a walk. He needed
something
. He tapped her arm. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”

C
arly walked slowly
through her view of semi-darkness, more pronounced now that the sun had set. But she had that little glimmering spot, the moon. And Tansy, with that thick arm of his to grab on to. She slid her hand up to his elbow, tucking it between his forearm and his bicep. She felt him up, just a little. Shamelessly. She was wearing borrowed flip-flops a size or two too big, and when her foot stumbled over some protruding object on the hard dirt path, she slid her arm up to wrap around his, their bodies moving closer, touching, their hips grazing every few steps into the dark.

It reminded her of how they used to work together when they lived on opposite sides of the country, how Tansy would guide her through some hacking solution or another. He would be voiceless, faceless. Just a comforting presence through distance and darkness.

“Where are we going?” Carly asked. The sounds of trickling water gave her an idea.

“You’ll see.”

“But I can’t see. Remember?”

“Then you’ll feel.”

Indeed. She had been feeling something since meeting her shadowy rescuer. It was a slow buildup, a warming that came as slowly as sand warming under the Nevada sun. But unlike the sand, which, after nightfall, had began to cool under their feet, Carly’s warmth remained. The sun might have disappeared. But Tansy hadn’t. He’d been the source of many things, including—after her rescue—second chances.

She suddenly felt a new warmth, her foot stepping into the still water of a hot spring. Tansy had guided her over a small rock wall and then down into the warm water. It felt like she had stepped into a freshly drawn bath, the water and its heated sensation rising up to her knee.

“You okay?” Tansy asked.

“Yeah. It’s just hotter than I was expecting.”

“Come over here,” he said, still holding her hand. “It’s deeper, but there’s a little ledge where we can sit.”

They waded slowly through the now waist-high waters of the hot spring, over the smooth, slippery rocks that wobbled underfoot. Carly held her other hand out in front of her, dipping low into the water and sloshing around until she felt an underwater rock ledge. Everything felt smooth and warm, including the wet muscles along Tansy’s arm as he held her in place as she sat.

“There you go,” he said. “Pretty comfortable, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Yep, it was very comfortable. The hot water surrounded her body, clinging Tansy’s heavy shirt tightly against her. The air above the water had begun to cool in the dark. There was even a breeze kicking up Carly’s hair in occasional waves of coolness. She dipped lower into the water, letting its warmth slide up to her neck, just under her chin. It was hot, but only at first.

“Don’t put your head under,” Tansy said.

“Why not?”

“I’ve read too many stories about parasites in the water, in places like these, going up people’s noses. Brain-eating amoebas.”

“Gross.” Okay, now she felt considerably less comfortable in the water. Since they could travel up nostrils, she began to wonder what other orifices. . . .

“Nah, I’m just kidding,” he chuckled. “Still, though. Better to not risk it.”

“Then you’re not just kidding.”

“No, I am. But you just never know.”

She felt Tansy’s fingers, in the form of an invading amoeba, crawling quickly across her thigh. It was obviously him, but still, she yelped playfully and jumped away. It was a nice distraction, to be scared not by certain death, but by something of Tansy’s safe and boyish creation. Even when he wasn’t joking, when he touched her again, it was definitely a nice distraction. Maybe it was Carly’s lack of visual stimulation that made her crave other forms, so that when the amoeba returned—this time crawling softly and slowly along her back—she accepted the invasion.

“I’ve been thinking about your idea,” he said. “My main concern is your eyesight. How’s that going, by the way?”

“It’s too dark to tell.” She moved her hands lazily back and forth in the water in front of her, seeing the shadowy waves they created. “But it’s been improving throughout the day.”

“It would be a huge help to us,” said Tansy, “if you could get back to work. Whether or not we send you out as the sacrificial lamb.”

“Work, like hacking?”

“Yes.”

“You seem to have everything under control.”

“Still, I think we have different, complementary strengths.”

“Like what? My bass playing? Blending into a mediocre existence in a punk band while you . . . I don’t know . . . save the world from cyber terrorists?”

“You actually play really well.”

“Thanks,” she barked out a small, dry laugh.

“You’re welcome, but I meant it. You can also out-hack me, head-to-head. As we’ve seen. I can’t seem to forget that.”

“But what’s our different, complementary strengths?”

Tansy chuckled under his breath. “It’s like a beauty and the beast type of thing.”

“Who’s who?”

“I think you know.”

“How? I still don’t know what you look like. Not properly.”

“I thought you saw me at the bar.”

“Hardly.” She thought back to her set at the Dolphin Club. It seemed like so long ago now. Like a whole different life. “And you were disguised.”

His hand grabbed hers and she relaxed, letting him raise it up out of the water toward him. At first it was to the sharp, close stubble on his chin. And then up onto his smoother cheek. Carly giggled at the silliness of it all. That caused his own reaction, his face tightening into a smile under her fingertips.

“You’ve got a nice smile,” she said.

“Thanks.” His deep voice vibrated softly through her hand. “What else? What color are my eyes?”

Carly’s hand roamed up the side of his face, over the crest of a strong cheekbone, and then past the outside edge of his eye. His eyelashes brushed lightly against the side of her pinky finger, one caress and then gone, his eye closing and holding shut as if inviting her to travel inward. And she did, brushing her fingertips as gently as possible over the soft skin of his closed eyelid.

“Green eyes,” she said, although she had no idea. All she knew was that his eyes were deep-set. Above that was a strong brow lined with a trace of soft hair. She moved her fingers over his smooth forehead, and down the middle along the bridge of his nose. She felt a bump.

“Broken nose?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Boxing.”

“Boxing or fighting?”

“Fighting.”

Her fingertips fell from the tip of his nose to his lips. They were full and soft. She giggled again, her nerves rising again, building a warm fluttering inside her.

“What’s so funny?” he asked against her hand, his hot breath passing through her fingers.

“Nothing.” Her laugh went quiet. “You must be a good kisser.” She immediately regretted it, the way it came out. The way he’d made her sound. Before she could cover it up with another laugh or some brainless comment, she felt his hand pulling hers away, down from his face. The sound of his body moving in the water, then the warmth of his face close to hers. And then his lips were on hers, a warm and wet kiss that made her spine go limp. She collapsed forward into him, breathing him in deeply and then kissing him in return, devouring Tansy’s mouth hungrily. His hands were already down at her sides—underwater—slipping up inside the heavy, wet t-shirt, circling around her back and holding her in tightly.

She’d seen him like a blind person, interpreting his beauty through her hand, feeling his racing heartbeat through her chest. His lust mouthed into hers. His heat. She’d seen enough to know him—both now and how he’d treated her since the rescue—knowing she knew all that was needed for something so impulsive and absurd to feel so perfect. And now, so mutual.

This wasn’t some reward for being a nice guy and saving her life. It wasn’t a gift. No, she was
taking
now. She wanted his mouth. She wanted him. And unlike the first time in her bed in the bunker, he didn’t pull away. He didn’t need to ask for permission. They both needed this.

Tansy’s lips moved to her neck, sucking gently below her ear and Carly’s mouth was free to gasp deeply, flooding a rush of oxygen to her brain and into her blood. It was almost too much, the heat of the water and the heat of him. Somewhere between his kisses along her neck, she remembered a vague news story about people losing consciousness in hot tubs from a sudden drop in blood pressure. But that wouldn’t happen here. She was thankful she had Tansy to keep her blood pumping, her heart kicking and thudding against her ribcage like a trapped animal. Tansy’s inner animal, meanwhile, had already escaped. It was preying, not like some wimpy amoeba, but like a bloodthirsty mammal. A wolf, his whiskers grazing her chin as his sharp teeth closed on her earlobe, and then biting harder, and pulling, while his hand traveled further under her shirt. Carly leaned back, just a little bit, giving that hand enough room to slip around her waist and then up along her stomach. Her muscles quivered and tightened under his touch as he moved higher, separating the wet shirt from her body, making room, inching higher and then climbing over her breasts.

These were the hands that had been grasping in the darkness for her, reaching out even before her vision loss, reaching in dreams or through a collection of wires and networks all across the continent. These were the fingers that had typed to her. Previously, in her old life, she had done everything she could to deny them, even halfway convincing herself that they didn’t exist. But their existence now couldn’t be doubted, and their need couldn’t be refused. Carly’s breaths came faster as he cupped her breast delicately in his rough and calloused hand. Why were his hands rough? She wondered briefly what Tansy got up to away from the keyboard before all thoughts were lost as his fingers ran lightly over her nipple. He squeezed harder when Carly turned her head to seek out his mouth, returning it to hers, her tongue racing in to taste him. She kissed him deep while he toyed with her nipple in the warm spring water, his thumb moving back and forth, slowly, teasing. Her legs spread almost unconsciously in the water, in this natural spring, a magical place with healing properties. It was better than any relaxation spa she’d ever fantasized about, better than the best massage therapy in any exotic location. His every touch, his body, was both stress-relieving and blood-pumping all at once.

Her hands were guided by Tansy, pressing them flat against his chest in the water. His pecs were hard and smooth, like the rock surface below them. The water around them fell off her body in tiny waves before landing against his chest with a quiet, wet lapping sound. Waves moved against a rock wall, his chest heaving with another deep breath of air as her hands moved lower, cupping over the sexy bumps of Tansy’s ab muscles. They jumped alive at her touch, flexing hard with an electricity that had already begun to make her feel shaky, a half nervous, half hungry vibration that moved through her entire body.

“Are you okay?” he whispered into her ear, breaking away from her mouth.

She was shaky. Very shaky. But very okay.

She moved back to his mouth, sucking him. Silencing him.

Fuck, she was so fucking okay. So fucking achy for him. His tongue in her mouth wasn’t enough. As if he could tell, his hand dropped from her breast and slid out from under her shirt. Maybe he could feel how her knees had opened wide, asking for his touch. He answered promptly, just as in tune with her needs as he’d always been, for everything, his hand now inching over the silky shorts. The material was loose and floating in the water, but his hand pushed it back against her body, up close and tight. He knew she wore nothing underneath. He could probably feel it. Yes, he
could
feel it, the side of his hand knowing exactly where to slide up snug between her folds. And now he knew how hot she was for him.

Carly squirmed under his touch and breathed a moan against his neck as she collapsed into him. He worked harder over the shorts, his hand rubbing quickly back and forth. Her hands moved to his lap, to the erection that awaited her, standing up straight and tall like the good and dutiful soldier Tansy was. He’d stood up for his country, and now he’d reenacted that same resolute duty for her and her alone. Only this time, his mission was not about destruction, but creation.

But Carly knew, the second she felt his hard cock, that there would be at least some destruction. She pressed her hands on either side of him, accentuating his bulge, running her hands along his full length. Destruction indeed. But she was ready for it. She wanted to be destroyed. And Tansy was preparing her, his hand now sliding up inside the shorts, gliding along her thigh all the way up and then opening out her folds with his finger. She moaned into him as he explored her, slowly, softly, his fingertips rubbing small circles around her clit until the world disappeared.

After what seemed like the longest moment hanging in bliss, Carly recovered from the tidal wave of ecstasy, waiting for her brain to function again, even for just a slight second in time. It functioned just long enough for her hands to grip the elastic waistband of Tansy’s swimming shorts and pull them down. He responded quickly, lifting himself off the rock ledge just enough for his shorts to slide down over his knees, drifting down to rest on the bottom of the pool. She closed her eyes, imagined him now, completely naked, his shorts probably floating away from their little corner of pleasure in the hot spring. He didn’t need them anymore. He might not need them around her ever again. Neither did they need the excuse of a hot spring to show some skin, nor the idyllic and almost laughably romantic setting to compel their skin to touch. Carly didn’t need nightfall and the exoticism of Nevada, or the adventure of their story, or the mystery, for she had become so utterly consumed with hunger. A hunger that would have driven her to him even if they’d been back inside the sterile, utilitarian hacking compound. Or anywhere—maybe even in public—for there was no outside world beyond his bare skin and the waves of pleasure that stirred again through her. For that moment, she was perfectly fine with blindness. Her sense of touch, if she got to run her hands over Tansy’s body, was plenty good enough.