The Operator
Page 93
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“You’re the strongest person I have ever known,” he whispered in her ear. “Do you remember how we met?”
“I don’t want to do a recall,” she said petulantly, and he chuckled.
“You were with Allen at the time. Just friends, but it was obvious that anyone hanging with you had ulterior motives.”
“Allen?” Interested, she rolled back, wondering at the weird, pained smile on him.
“He’d hijacked a drone, and you were trying to fly it into Opti’s armory to get a look at the weapons you’d be up against in one of your finals. One of the stabilizers went out. It crashed into the med hall auditorium right during an exam. Knocked me a good one.” His smile became fond and he pushed back a lock of hair from his forehead. “Look, you can still see the scar.”
She touched it, finding it by feel. “How come I never wrote that down?”
“You vaulted through the broken window after it. Bold as brass, you picked up the drone, changed one of the answers on my test, and walked out.”
She chuckled, imagining it. “I’m surprised I didn’t get expelled.”
“You would have if you hadn’t been wearing smut to throw off the recognition software. You were new. No one recognized you. Yet.”
His fingers ran a delicious trace of sensation over her shoulder, following a line of muscle, and she shivered. “I ran into you a few days later, pissed because my entire exam was thrown out because of you. It was at Overdraft, actually. I recognized the limp you got by kicking the professor into a wall when he tried to detain you.”
“Huh.” Settled back in the pillows, she played with the hair about his ears. “That might explain one of my grades.”
Silas’s expression shifted abruptly. “I’m sorry you don’t remember, but I do.”
“Silas,” she protested.
“Just . . . shut up, will you?” he said, leaning over and soundly kissing her.
Her flash of startlement vanished in an inrush of air. His lips were warm and soft . . . familiar. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she wouldn’t let him pull away until a slip of his tongue surprised her and he drew back. The sound of their lips parting echoed through her memory, the scent of his skin against hers sparking flashes of vision.
Silas’s eyes were wary. “This isn’t—” he started, and she laced her hands behind his neck to keep him from pulling away.
“What?” she asked. “Smart? Not what you had planned on doing, coming in here wearing raggedy jeans and a Van Halen T-shirt?” Gently she pulled him back over her, her fingers aggressive as they raked through his hair and down his back. “You kissed me first.”
“I shouldn’t have. Peri, you’re feeling very vulnerable right now.”
She shoved him just enough to get the afghan between them free, and lifting it in invitation, she smiled when he looked. He hadn’t moved, and she flicked the blanket half over him. “That’s just the psychologist in you talking,” she said, pulling him back to her. She could tell the instant he gave up, and her lips left his to hop-skip down his neck as she slipped a leg between Silas’s. His skin held a hint of salt, and she tugged gently on the soft part of his throat. “I’m not feeing at all vulnerable. Trust me.”
He chuckled, and she shut him up with another long, soul-stealing kiss.
His weight shifted, covering her with a heavy security, and she sent her hands down his chest, fumbling for his zipper. The cold slipped under the afghan as he moved, and she shivered.
Silas’s hand was warm and rough as he slipped her shirt over her head, finding the small of her back and easing her deeper onto the bed with a sensation that was both domineering and gentle. His head lowered, and she buried her fingers in his hair, arching upward when he found her breast with his lips. She moaned, her grip tightening as he grew rougher, his hands at her waist keeping her pinned to the bed.
She gasped when he pinched too hard, and immediately he eased. “S’okay,” she whispered, wishing he’d do it again, fingers fumbling for his zipper.
But he didn’t, and she groaned when she finally got that damned zipper down and reached past it to find him. Again his touch became deliciously rough as she moved up and down his length, finding his neck with her lips, his ear with her teeth, his back with her nails—tracing a one-finger path up the center of his spine to feel him shiver and goad him into a more demanding touch. He wanted to leave with me. Forever.
Her breath came in with disappointment when he leaned out of her reach, but he was only wiggling out of his jeans, and then he was back, his gaze holding a questioning familiarity as he pinned her hands beside her ear. Their breath was fast, and his smile turned devilish when he saw the desire in her eyes and she lunged to find his mouth, imprisoned but not.
Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled him close. Maybe vanishing is a good idea.
Warmth overflowed as Silas bent close, holding her unmoving as he kissed her neck. She slipped one hand free to find him, caressing, guiding, arching up and teasing before falling back. Sensation plinked through her as they fell into a rhythm. Giving in to her own desires, she guided him in, exalting in the slow rise of how he felt both above and in her. Loved. Desired. And he was willing to give everything up to hide with her. Be with her.
Her breath caught as their rhythm shifted and he pressed deep, staying within her even as he found her breast. The twin sensations arced through her, almost unbearable. Wild with desire, she arched into him, demanding more, urging him, feeling the need quicken in him.
The slightest widening of rhythm warned her, and she gave herself to sensation, moaning as a wave of ecstasy rose, hesitated, and crashed over her. It hit Silas and he stiffened, groaning as he climaxed as well. Eyes shut, she lingered, afraid to move and end it. Their breathing twined together, the heavy sound of it finally pulling her eyes open as he shifted to get his weight off her.
“You’re not too heavy,” she whispered, and their eyes met.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she echoed, playing with the hair about his ears as he settled back. She could feel the sweat between them, the pleasant exhaustion. Forever? Maybe. It was worth struggling for. It finally felt as if she was doing something right, here in a drug lord’s playroom.
But he was still smiling down at her, and she arched her eyebrows at him when he took a breath to speak. “Think carefully about what is going to come out of your mouth,” she said, liking the way the dim light glistened on his skin to show the muscles underneath. “You didn’t take advantage of me, and it wasn’t the first time we’ve done this.” It wasn’t just that he knew exactly what button to push and when, but that there had been no awkwardness.
“I don’t want to do a recall,” she said petulantly, and he chuckled.
“You were with Allen at the time. Just friends, but it was obvious that anyone hanging with you had ulterior motives.”
“Allen?” Interested, she rolled back, wondering at the weird, pained smile on him.
“He’d hijacked a drone, and you were trying to fly it into Opti’s armory to get a look at the weapons you’d be up against in one of your finals. One of the stabilizers went out. It crashed into the med hall auditorium right during an exam. Knocked me a good one.” His smile became fond and he pushed back a lock of hair from his forehead. “Look, you can still see the scar.”
She touched it, finding it by feel. “How come I never wrote that down?”
“You vaulted through the broken window after it. Bold as brass, you picked up the drone, changed one of the answers on my test, and walked out.”
She chuckled, imagining it. “I’m surprised I didn’t get expelled.”
“You would have if you hadn’t been wearing smut to throw off the recognition software. You were new. No one recognized you. Yet.”
His fingers ran a delicious trace of sensation over her shoulder, following a line of muscle, and she shivered. “I ran into you a few days later, pissed because my entire exam was thrown out because of you. It was at Overdraft, actually. I recognized the limp you got by kicking the professor into a wall when he tried to detain you.”
“Huh.” Settled back in the pillows, she played with the hair about his ears. “That might explain one of my grades.”
Silas’s expression shifted abruptly. “I’m sorry you don’t remember, but I do.”
“Silas,” she protested.
“Just . . . shut up, will you?” he said, leaning over and soundly kissing her.
Her flash of startlement vanished in an inrush of air. His lips were warm and soft . . . familiar. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she wouldn’t let him pull away until a slip of his tongue surprised her and he drew back. The sound of their lips parting echoed through her memory, the scent of his skin against hers sparking flashes of vision.
Silas’s eyes were wary. “This isn’t—” he started, and she laced her hands behind his neck to keep him from pulling away.
“What?” she asked. “Smart? Not what you had planned on doing, coming in here wearing raggedy jeans and a Van Halen T-shirt?” Gently she pulled him back over her, her fingers aggressive as they raked through his hair and down his back. “You kissed me first.”
“I shouldn’t have. Peri, you’re feeling very vulnerable right now.”
She shoved him just enough to get the afghan between them free, and lifting it in invitation, she smiled when he looked. He hadn’t moved, and she flicked the blanket half over him. “That’s just the psychologist in you talking,” she said, pulling him back to her. She could tell the instant he gave up, and her lips left his to hop-skip down his neck as she slipped a leg between Silas’s. His skin held a hint of salt, and she tugged gently on the soft part of his throat. “I’m not feeing at all vulnerable. Trust me.”
He chuckled, and she shut him up with another long, soul-stealing kiss.
His weight shifted, covering her with a heavy security, and she sent her hands down his chest, fumbling for his zipper. The cold slipped under the afghan as he moved, and she shivered.
Silas’s hand was warm and rough as he slipped her shirt over her head, finding the small of her back and easing her deeper onto the bed with a sensation that was both domineering and gentle. His head lowered, and she buried her fingers in his hair, arching upward when he found her breast with his lips. She moaned, her grip tightening as he grew rougher, his hands at her waist keeping her pinned to the bed.
She gasped when he pinched too hard, and immediately he eased. “S’okay,” she whispered, wishing he’d do it again, fingers fumbling for his zipper.
But he didn’t, and she groaned when she finally got that damned zipper down and reached past it to find him. Again his touch became deliciously rough as she moved up and down his length, finding his neck with her lips, his ear with her teeth, his back with her nails—tracing a one-finger path up the center of his spine to feel him shiver and goad him into a more demanding touch. He wanted to leave with me. Forever.
Her breath came in with disappointment when he leaned out of her reach, but he was only wiggling out of his jeans, and then he was back, his gaze holding a questioning familiarity as he pinned her hands beside her ear. Their breath was fast, and his smile turned devilish when he saw the desire in her eyes and she lunged to find his mouth, imprisoned but not.
Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled him close. Maybe vanishing is a good idea.
Warmth overflowed as Silas bent close, holding her unmoving as he kissed her neck. She slipped one hand free to find him, caressing, guiding, arching up and teasing before falling back. Sensation plinked through her as they fell into a rhythm. Giving in to her own desires, she guided him in, exalting in the slow rise of how he felt both above and in her. Loved. Desired. And he was willing to give everything up to hide with her. Be with her.
Her breath caught as their rhythm shifted and he pressed deep, staying within her even as he found her breast. The twin sensations arced through her, almost unbearable. Wild with desire, she arched into him, demanding more, urging him, feeling the need quicken in him.
The slightest widening of rhythm warned her, and she gave herself to sensation, moaning as a wave of ecstasy rose, hesitated, and crashed over her. It hit Silas and he stiffened, groaning as he climaxed as well. Eyes shut, she lingered, afraid to move and end it. Their breathing twined together, the heavy sound of it finally pulling her eyes open as he shifted to get his weight off her.
“You’re not too heavy,” she whispered, and their eyes met.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she echoed, playing with the hair about his ears as he settled back. She could feel the sweat between them, the pleasant exhaustion. Forever? Maybe. It was worth struggling for. It finally felt as if she was doing something right, here in a drug lord’s playroom.
But he was still smiling down at her, and she arched her eyebrows at him when he took a breath to speak. “Think carefully about what is going to come out of your mouth,” she said, liking the way the dim light glistened on his skin to show the muscles underneath. “You didn’t take advantage of me, and it wasn’t the first time we’ve done this.” It wasn’t just that he knew exactly what button to push and when, but that there had been no awkwardness.
