Shadow Game (GhostWalkers) Page 10

  She kissed him, deliberately rubbed her body along his, her breasts pushing hungrily into his chest, her hands exploring the muscles of his back. “We don’t need a bed, we don’t have time for a bed. I don’t have a single stitch on underneath this skirt.” It didn’t matter, it was a dream. She could go with erotic, she could be totally without inhibitions. She didn’t want reality, she wanted Ryland.

  His breath slammed out of his lungs. “Are you wet, Lily, hot and wet waiting for me? Because I’m as hard as a rock.”

  “I never would have guessed.”

  She was laughing at him, teasing him. The world would be bleak and cold without Ryland. It would be empty and the knowledge of betrayal would come creeping in to push a knife through her heart. “They have security cameras,” she reminded, determined to stay with him within the framework they had set.

  He dragged her to the relative privacy of a small enclosure housing three rare paintings by some artist he couldn’t name. “We’re in a dream so it doesn’t matter, now does it?”

  His mouth was hot and wild, deliberately dominating, demanding her response. She opened for him like a blossom, heat for heat, her tongue as demanding as his own. Breathing hard, he sat on the small bench, stretching out his legs to ease the bulge in his jeans as much to pull her between his thighs.

  “What are you doing now?” Her breath caught in her throat, her entire body shivering in anticipation as his fingers circled her ankle and he began to slowly raise her skirt. Instantly she was hot and moist, her muscles clenching and throbbing. Hungry for him, hungry for him to fill her emptiness. The temperature of the room seemed to go up a hundred degrees. She waited, her body still, every nerve ending aware of his hand circling her bare ankle like an anklet.

  Slowly he began to slide his palm up the contour of her leg, caressing the back of her knee, stroking her thighs. His legs urged her to a wider stance, exposing her more fully to him.

  The slow revealing of her expanse of skin nearly caused an explosion in his gut. It was like unveiling a masterpiece. Exquisite. Beautiful. For him alone. Moisture glistened in the dark curls of her triangle. He bent his head to taste her unique flavor. His tongue caressed her lightly, just a taste. Her body clenched, jumped. He took his time, his fingers stroking, memorizing every secret place. When she caught his shoulder in a tight grip, in a silent plea, he pushed two fingers into her tight sheath, in a long stroke that had her crying out.

  He knew what they were doing was dangerous. They could be caught in a dream, lost forever together, but he couldn’t have stopped if his life depended upon it and maybe it did. Ryland didn’t know all that much about walking in dreams. The excitement, the sheer pleasure washed over him in such intense waves it was difficult to remember it wasn’t wholly real. She was so beautiful wanting him. He loved the cloudy, sultry look on her face, the heat of her body as her muscles clenched tightly around his fingers. He loved the way she trusted him so completely even if she thought it only an erotic dream.

  He pushed deep, insistently, long strokes so that she moved with him. Her body tightened, a hot, moist sheath for his fingers. He felt it coming, the beginnings of hard release, and he pulled his fingers away, dragged her to him and buried his tongue deep. Her climax was wild and he shared it, the rippling explosion, the hot liquid, the intensity of pleasure exploding in her body, in her mind.

  Lily’s legs were rubbery, shaking, fine tremors seizing her. She opened her eyes to look at him. His face was so perfect to her she brushed a caress over his scarred jaw. She could see the lines of strain. It wasn’t difficult to see why. The bulge in his jeans was huge, as hard as a rock. She simply reached down and unzipped him so that he sprang free, erect, thick, engorged with need.

  “Lily.” It was a protest. A plea for mercy. “It’s too risky. We can’t, baby, not here.” But it was already too late, she simply lifted her skirt and straddled him, right there on the bench while the eyes from the portraits stared at them with shock. Or maybe indulgence. “I’ll never hold the bridge, never, not when you’re distracting me,” he told her, his hands at her waist to lift her away.

  She settled over him slowly. It was torture. She was so hot, so wet, so tight he had to push his way into her velvet folds. A growl escaped him, a throaty note of pleasure/pain he couldn’t stifle. Her muscles, still rippling from her orgasm, gripped and milked him as she began to move.

  “Let them come, Ryland,” she whispered wickedly, her blue eyes staring straight into his. “I don’t care if they find us locked together. Do you know what it feels like to have you so deep inside me?”

  Her words nearly shattered him. He knew what it was like to fill her, to stretch her. He knew what it was like to have her ride him, slick with hot heat, and he knew what it was like to thrust almost helplessly, violently into her, spearing her deeply. Over and over, hard and fast, uncaring that they might be locked forever in this dream. Nothing mattered at that moment except the sheer indulgence of each other’s hunger.

  The roaring started in his head. The fire flamed in his belly. Her muscles spiraled around him, her sheath so tight she milked him into an explosion so intense he couldn’t muffle the yell torn from his throat. For a moment colors seemed to burst around him. He clung to her, breathing deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control. They clung together tightly, holding each other while their hearts tried to slow down, while their lungs tried to find air.

  The low murmur of voices drifted to them. Late-night visitors to the museum. Intruders into their dreamworld. Lily reluctantly slipped off of him, felt his seed trickle down the inside of her thigh. How had visitors managed to invade their dream? She looked around, saw the sudden flashing light of the alarms. Blazing lights spilling around them, pointing an accusing finger at them. Two freaks of nature who no longer belonged in the world with others.

  Ryland wanted to cling to her, hold her to him, sensing her grief rising as she began to slip away from him. His mouth was hard on hers, demanding. His hands moved over her body with loving caresses, with greedy eagerness, with trembling need. At the melding of their mouths, fireworks erupted around them, orange and red and white.

  Lily could feel his muscles beneath her fingers, hear his heart slamming hard against her breast. The fireworks burst once more around her, into her, flashing red and white. The light was distracting, pulling her away from her erotic world of lovers and comfort and back to reality where the sand had shifted out from under her feet for all time. No matter how hard she clung to her dream, the light buzzed a warning insistently in her head, determinedly pulling her out of Ryland’s arms and into the cold reality of the dormitory.

  Lily looked around, slightly disoriented, with unfocused sight, blinking repeatedly to clear her vision. Red light was strobing into the room. Bursts of it coming and going as if shouting an alarm. She pushed herself up off the bed, shocked that her body was throbbing and burning, fully aroused, craving Ryland’s possession. She did crave him, needed him. There was no point in lying to herself, but the intensity was shattering. She had felt his touch on her bare skin, felt his hand on her body, caressing her. She heard his soft cry of protest fading as she stumbled away from the bed. Away from the dream.

  The red light was hurting her eyes and pushing needles into the walls of her mind. Bold red stripes of pain like the lash of a whip. She pushed into the outer room and hurried to find the controls for the cameras she knew would have been installed. Pressing a button instantly turned on the screen over her head. She saw her father’s darkened office, saw the door was ajar despite the fact that she’d locked it. A shadowy figure moved through the room, opened and rifled through drawers at her father’s desk.

  The intruder was dressed in black and wore a mask over his face, hiding everything but his eyes which she couldn’t see clearly in the darkness. Her heart in her throat, she watched as he examined the grandfather clock, then turned away from it to run his penlight over the titles of the books on the shelves. She watched the way he moved, n
o wasted motion, clearly a professional. He had entirely ignored the computer, as if he knew already it was useless to him. He completely ignored her father’s day planner, still sitting neatly beside the computer.

  He pulled a few books at random, rifling through the pages, then neatly returning each to the exact spot where he had pulled it. It made no sense to her that he would go through her father’s office without really searching. What was he doing?

  The intruder glanced at his watch and left the room, looking back once to make certain everything was in place. He closed the door softly and the empty room was all that was on the screen.

  Lily felt her wrist, realized her communicator, the one Arly insisted she wear for emergencies, was on the nightstand by her bed where she’d dropped it in utter annoyance. For obvious reasons, there was no phone in her father’s hidden laboratory so she hurried back up the stairs, wound the hand of the clock etched into the ceiling around nine times, leaving it pointing toward the Roman numeral IX and watched the trapdoor swing open.

  The intruder had to have planted surveillance equipment and she had to find it before he got it online. She would need entry to the lab to study the documents. She couldn’t have anyone looking over her shoulder all the time. Picking up the phone, she stabbed the button to ring Arly’s room.

  “I’m already on it, sweetie pie. He triggered a silent alarm when he went through the door of your father’s office,” Arly said without preamble. “Stay in your room while we round him up.”

  “I’m in my father’s office and he’s planted little bugs everywhere. So much for your extra men, Arly,” Lily pointed out.

  “Don’t you move, Lily,” he snapped, fear for her creeping into his voice. “Why the hell aren’t you hiding under your bed like a normal woman would be?”

  “Ask yourself how he got in when you have this place locked down, you chauvinistic smart aleck. And how did he manage to get through my father’s locked office door? He would need prints, Arly. My father’s prints. He got through three security systems and didn’t know about the safeguard, but he knew about the others.”

  “You listen to me, Lily, lock that door and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll come for you when I know you’re safe.”

  “I’m not exactly worried, Arly. You and Dad made certain I could protect myself. They may have gotten my father, but they won’t find me such an easy target.”

  Arly swore at her before slamming down the phone. Lily didn’t care. He was the security expert. He had access to enough money to install all the latest toys to stay ahead of everyone else, but still, someone had gained entrance to the house and had bypassed the security to the office she had activated when she’d locked the door.

  She was shaking with fury. She absolutely refused to be intimidated by an intruder to her home. She would not let them shake her up or hide under her bed. She didn’t know who was the enemy or who was a friend, but she was going to find out and make her home safe again.

  Lily began searching for the bugs she knew the intruder had dropped casually in her father’s office. The drawers, the coffee table. She retraced his steps, finding the books easily. Her brain had recorded the pattern, random to him, but seen as a precise configuration to her. There was an order to randomness she could see clearly where others could not. She destroyed every bug as she found it. Arly could make a sweep of the room later, but she was certain she had found all of them.

  She wanted the intruder caught and questioned. She wanted the name of the traitor in her home. She wanted the name of the conspirators in the Donovans Corporation and the military. Lily’s soft mouth firmed and she lined the remains of the expensive surveillance bugs across her father’s desk.

  Tell me, Lily. Talk to me. Open your mind to me.

  You’re too distracting. She didn’t want to talk to him. She couldn’t talk to him. She was trying to cope with too many things. When Ryland was in her mind or near her body, guilt and white-hot heat were predominant, not cool logic. My mind is open enough for you to contact me whether I want it or not. She was shocked at how far away Ryland seemed, as if his powers had faded.

  I find you crying, swamping me with grief, now something else is very wrong. Damn it, I’m locked up like an animal in a cage and I can’t get to you. I used too much holding the bridge between us. My head…

  Her heart jumped at the pain in his voice. She could hear the note of sheer frustration. There was a raw edge to his voice, a harsh implacable note that warned her he was becoming dangerous. She weighed her options. The last thing she wanted was for Ryland Miller to try to reach her and overload. Their shared erotic dream had drained him and pushing beyond his limit was dangerous. Lily sat heavily in her father’s chair.

  It’s nothing. An intruder. This place has security measures to rival Donovans yet a man got into the house.

  There was a small silence while she felt some of the tension drain out of him. You should have contacted me immediately.

  The reprimand irritated her as much as it frightened her. She did not want him getting the wrong idea about her, thinking she needed protection. Most of all she knew he needed rest. If he continued pushing their communication, he could easily overload. I realize I’ve been broadcasting extreme emotion, but I hope you realize with my father’s murder and the knowledge of the experiments he conducted and the sudden distressing and very uncomfortable physical attraction to you, I’ve been under duress. You are broadcasting anger and on the edge of control yet I know from being in your head you’re a man with extreme control. Make certain you know that I’m a capable woman and very much able to take care of myself. I would hope you don’t have the wrong idea about me.

  There was a long silence. Lily absently played with the small electronic pieces on the desk, turning them over and over, creating patterns while she waited. She found she was holding her breath waiting for his answer. Waiting for something she needed from him. The silence stretched for an eternity.

  Distressing and uncomfortable physical attraction? Damn you for saying that, Lily. I am very aware you’re way out of my class. You’re smart and beautiful and so damn sexy I can’t breathe when you’re in the same room with me. I’m sorry if my needing to protect you bothers you in some way, but that’s part of my personality. I’m rough around the edges, and I’m nothing to look at, but damn it all, I have a brain. I can see exactly what you are.

  The knock on the door had Lily jumping out of the chair, her heart accelerating before she could prevent it. I like the way you look, Ryland. I like just about everything about you. Unfortunately that was the truth. She admired him and his need to protect those around him. She sighed. They didn’t have time for a heart-to-heart. Arly’s here.

  Lily shouldn’t have admitted it to him, but she loved the way he looked. Everything about him appealed to her and she didn’t trust it. She didn’t want the intensity of their chemistry, so explosive they could barely control themselves. It was utterly foreign to her nature. Had her father done something besides the despicable experiments he had conducted on young children and then on grown men? Had he decided to meddle with her life even more? Had he found a way to enhance physical attraction between two people?

  No! Lily, I don’t know what you found that was so devastating but whatever is between us is real.

  You weren’t born adept. You were enhanced.

  The knock was louder this time, accompanied by muffled shouting. Lily sighed and moved toward the door. She was tired. Bone weary. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep forever. Dream forever but even that was lost to her if what she suspected was true.

  But it’s real now, Lily, I can’t turn it off. I’ll never be able to turn it off. If your father made you part of an experiment and it involves us both, we aren’t going to be able to turn it off any more than I can stop the information flooding my brain.

  I have to be sure, Ryland. My world has turned upside down. She coded the door and opened it for Arly. He was looking frantic, but recovered quickly, even
scowling at her when she stood arching her eyebrow coolly at him in inquiry.

  “We didn’t get him.” He held up his hand to prevent her protest. “He was good, Lily, I’m talking a major professional. I’d like to know how he knew the codes and what kind of systems we have. He was busy planting bugs and a camera or two in your private office.”

  She let her breath out slowly. “He knew the way to my office in a house with eighty rooms in it? Nobody knows where all the rooms are, not even me. How would a complete stranger have that information, Arly? He came straight to my father’s office, planted bugs, and he does the same to my office. What does that tell us?” She tilted her head at him in challenge.

  “That I’m not on top of the security and that you’re in more danger than I suspected.” Arly balled his fist and smacked his palm. “Damn it, Lily, someone has to be feeding them information. He knew the layout of the house and he was out of here like a damned ghost.”

  Lily stiffened. Could Ryland break through the security of her home? He was trained to walk in enemy camps unseen. Were there other GhostWalkers? Men she didn’t know about, men working with her enemy? Is that possible? Are there others?

  “I’m sorry, Lily, I thought the house was impenetrable.”

  “We have to look closely at the day staff, go over their backgrounds with a fine-tooth comb.” Is it possible, Ryland? Are there others?

  Arly shook his head. “Day staff wouldn’t have the information on our security systems. They might be able to give the location of your office or Dr. Whitney’s office, but they would never have the codes. And they wouldn’t have Dr. Whitney’s prints. That’s a pro all the way, Lily, with big money behind him.”

  There could have been others. There were a few men they said they phased out, men who didn’t meet the exact criteria. They could have been taken somewhere else.

  Do you think they were?