Psychic Visions 08-Now You See Her... (29 page)

She glanced down at her clothes and winced. She didn’t own much in the way of clothes. Had the little bit she owned come with her? And would it matter if she was in a robe for a few hours while laundry was happening? She rinsed her clothes in the sink and laid them out to dry over the heater. She wanted to feel clean for now.

Making a fast decision, she turned to the marble shower. She didn’t think she’d ever been in anything so fancy. Water jetted from the top as she turned it on. She stepped under the hot spray and closed her eyes in joy.

Water had never felt so good. She didn’t know how long she stood there but finally realized that if she didn’t get moving Dean would come and check up on her. And she didn’t want that. Well she did but not because he was worried about her. Sigh. She was an idiot.

She loved having him around, but she wanted him there because he wanted to be there and not because she was a helpless female in distress. She hadn’t been that in a long time, and yet, she hadn’t seemed to step out of that role since she’d met him.

As she shampooed her hair for the second time she remembered the attack and green light at Dean’s house. What the hell had happened? An intruder obviously, and some kind of alarm system. Stefan’s. A knock sounded on the door. “Tia, breakfast is here.”

She shut off the water, suddenly famished. Hell, she was always hungry and today it was even worse. Had whatever healing that had been going on burned up more calories? Was that even possible? She barely kept flesh on her hipbones as it was. Too nervy and on the run. She wondered what her mother and grandmother looked like. Was this frame genetic or was she abnormally thin for her maternal line?

She didn’t want to dress in wet clothes so grabbed the robe behind the door and walked out.

And came face to face with Dean.

Her nostrils flared. The smell of him. The sight of him.

All she could do was stare. She watched him from under lowered lashes, knowing what was going to happen next unless she stopped it. She was so damn tired of running.

And he offered something she was desperate to have.

Solace. Comfort. Love. Even if only for a few moments.

Something to smile about later when she was alone again.

He’d been so good to her, she couldn’t stay. He had family. He didn’t need trouble. And all she’d ever had was trouble.

His hands were gentle but firm, he drew her up against his chest. “Did you enjoy your shower?”

The strong scent of male hit her nostrils. Those strong hands gripped her waist, long fingers grasped her flesh. Her gaze locked on his, she nodded. The heat in his eyes lit fires between her legs. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, her eyelids closed as he lowered his head.

Giving in to the urge, she wrapped her arms around his neck and accepted the soft kiss he pressed on her lips. Their mouths moved in synchronization. Her fingers curled into his thick dark mane. Her body softened in his arms and turned compliant.

He guided her down to the bed, their bodies never leaving each other’s. Dean grabbed the edges of her bathrobe, tugging it open to spread across the sheets. She shuddered as a cool gust of wind breathed across her heated flesh. Her belly muscles clenched and unclenched from excitement, nervousness and anxiety. Need.

A jolt shot down her body as she lay open to his gaze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful.”

He stood up, his gaze hot on her heated flesh. Clothes were quickly cast aside until he stood in front of her as nude as she was. More, in fact. She sat up, letting the bathrobe drop from her shoulders. Pressure built up in the pit of her stomach, butterflies emerged and flapped their wings as Dean regarded her.

Multiple tiny scars covered her body. Long healed but still visible in a crisscross network as evidence of what she’d been through. He gently traced several across her belly and her ribs.

She caught her breath, afraid he’d be turned off. She searched his eyes. Love filling her as she saw his eyes were hooded, filled with desire.

With a gentle moan she opened her arms and reached up for him. Her hand closed around him, so big. So hard. She loved the way the breath caught in the back of his throat. The groan that escaped before he could hold it back. She stroked a finger across the tip, her finger sliding through the drop of moisture. He growled and pulled back.

He slid his arms around her, his hands sliding down her ribs to her waist and her buttocks. And he came down on top of her. There was no time to adjust to the feel of his body, so hot and heavy on hers, because he captured her lips and took possession of them in a way she’d never known.

Lord had she’d missed out.

When he finally lifted his head, she lay there still gasping as sensation after sensation rolled through her. Then he slid down her body, dropping tiny kisses…everywhere. On the plump curve to her breast. The gentle hills and valleys of her ribs. Across the dip of her belly, his tongue swirling around inside her belly button. His hands stroked from her ankle to her hip and back again. She tried to reach for him, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she went to tug him upward, he pulled free and slid his hand down to the heart of her and slid one finger deep inside.

Her hips arched up and she moaned.

So he withdrew and did it again.

The second time she cried out. By the time he lowered his head and swirled his tongue over and around the tiny nub she was weeping and chanting his name.

He shifted and moved upward. Growling, he moved until he was positioned right at her tight opening. His gaze locked on hers as he drove deep within.

She cried out, her hips surging upward as he drove deeper. Her mouth parted in a silent moan as her inner muscles expanded to accommodate him.

They groaned simultaneously. He never gave her the chance for her body to get used to him before he was driving more. Her mouth found his, their tongues dueling and tasting one another.

As they started to move in synchronization, Tia found herself unable to look away. Their gazes were trapped as their bodies moved to the oldest song in the world. Accenting their pleasure. She broke away from his intense regard and closed her eyes, her hips rising to meet his strong thrusts. His breath raspy, harder, heavier. Pressure built. She tossed her head from side to side, her hands grasping his arms. She dug her nails into his flesh.

“Ah,” he cried, made a quick adjustment to his position then drove down again.

She cried out, her world on fire as the climax ripped through her.

Grinding his hips against hers, he arched his back, a guttural moan ripping from deep in his chest.

And he collapsed down beside her.

Moisture in the corner of her eyes didn’t surprise her. It had been so much more emotional than she’d expected. And now that lovemaking was over she felt shy. Insecure. Foolish, considering he was still seated in her body.

Then she remembered. “You said breakfast was here!” she cried, trying to push herself up on her elbows to survey the room.

He gave a shout of laughter and rolled over. “One appetite appeased and another awaits?”

“Damn right.”

Within minutes, Dean had a cart sitting beside the table at the window. “There you are. Perfect. Come eat.”

She smiled, now dressed in her robe again, and walked closer. Pancakes and sausages and eggs. And with any luck – still warm. “This is great. What are you having?”

He laughed and said, “Whatever you’re not apparently. Not to worry, I can always get more if we need to.”

“Good,” she mumbled with a full mouth. “We just might.”

He shot her a disbelieving look and served himself a full plate. “I ordered these all as side dishes instead of ordering two plates.”

“Good idea,” she said. Then she fell to serious eating. She powered through her pancakes topped in maple syrup and butter then fell into the eggs and sausage. When she was done, she looked up to see him watching her carefully.

“What’s the matter?” She reached for her coffee cup to see he’d poured thick cream into it. She gave him a fat smile and lifted her cup in a salute. “Thanks for this.” She took a sip. Closing her eyes, she realized if nothing else had told her she was in a high-end establishment the coffee would. Rich, dark, mysterious and full bodied. She almost wanted to cry.

“So good,” she murmured, cradling the cup in her hand.

“Glad to hear that. So are you feeling better now that you’ve filled up again?”

She nodded and studied the remaining food on the cart. “Maybe I could manage a little bit extra.”

He scooped the leftover eggs and sausage onto her plate. “There, is that better?”

She nodded. “I’m not sure why I’m so hungry.”

“Because you slept the night and the day away. It’s not Saturday or Sunday. It’s Monday.”

*

He wondered how
she’d take the news. In fact, she looked like she was still processing. She held onto her cup of coffee again and stared out the window, an odd look on her face.

“You know when I escaped from that damn place, I worried I’d missed out on so much. I swore I never would let that happen again. I wanted to experience everything. Now apparently I missed the last day and a half.” She groaned. “And of course there was the month and a half before that too when I was comatose in the hospital.”

“After you fell asleep, Stefan said the guy was on his way back with the right tools to fight through the alarm system. It wasn’t intended to do more than let us know there was an intruder. Given that and your condition, Stefan offered this place, and I packed up, carried you out and brought you here.”

“Thank you.”

He searched her gaze but not seeing anything untoward nodded his head and said, “You’re welcome.”

“What do we do now?” she said, her gaze unwilling to let his go. He could understand that. He’d completely changed her life and now she likely didn’t know where she stood.

“I’m waiting to hear from my partner. He’s been chasing down the names from the file we found. Hoping to find someone still alive.”

As if he’d heard them talking about him, Dean’s cell phone went off showing a picture of Jones. “There he is now,” Dean said.

He answered his phone, pushing his chair back slightly. “Any news, Jones?” He put the phone on speaker.

“We tracked down two grad students who came into the program later. One had been fired and the other quit. The one who’d been fired said he’d been trying to make the living conditions more bearable for the people in the institution. He was quite aggravated and upset during the conversation. Said it was horrible. The other guy said he couldn’t do it. The place was horribly run, and it was obvious that the doctor wasn’t all there anymore. He was obsessed with paranormal abilities.”

Dean interrupted him. “Did he think the doctor had any abilities of his own?”

“No, I don’t believe so, but he was looking to use iron and steel in some of his experiments but would never explain why or how. Particularly small balls.”

“But there were still others there at the time. According to Tia, she was the last one left.”

“That’s the thing, he was there almost to the end and said there was a lot of hush hush discussion going on – figured that’s actually why he’d been fired as he’d overhead something he shouldn’t have. They’d told him they were in the process of moving to a new location. Only he didn’t know where it was.”

Dean’s heart slammed against his ribs. “They moved everyone somewhere else?”

“According to the one guy. The other one knew nothing about it.”

“Maybe he wasn’t there at the same time?”

“No, he was a couple of months earlier.” His tone changed. “I did check on some of the parents of the dead kids.”

Ah, here was something. Dean straightened. “And.”

“I got a hold of Calendar’s mom and she was a pistol. Said it was a Godsend that the boy died. According to Wilhelm he was in terrible pain at the end and his passing was easy.”

“What?” Dean looked across at Tia who’d been eyeing the last two pancakes on the trolley. But at Jones’s words, she sat up. He asked her, “Did you know Billy to be ill?”

Her face twisted in a frown as she thought for a moment then she shook her head. “The last time I remember seeing him, he was laughing and joking.” She stared out the window. “No, that’s not quite true. The last time I spoke to him he was like that. But the last time I saw him I was in the observation room, and they were wheeling him down the hallway. He didn’t look so good then.”

“Any physical injuries?”

She shrugged. “Not that I could see but his skin had a gray cast. I remember thinking he needed a doctor because he was sick.”

“According to his mother, he had a terminal illness and Wilhelm said his death was a kindness at the end.”

Dean watched her slump back in her seat and play with her fork. It had to be tough to have all these memories not match up with the current information.

Jones continued to speak. “We spoke to a couple of other parents. One wouldn’t talk to us, said his boy was deceased and there was nothing to be gained by talking to us about his condition. And another–”

“Condition? What condition?”