Dying Dreams (Book 1 of Dying Dreams Trilogy) (26 page)

“I’m going to my daily torture, I mean training session. There’s no reason for you to go. Don’t you have work to do?”

“You’re my partner now, I go where you go.”

“Hey, Simmons, you’re out of training. You work with Rice and Fulsom now, full-time.” Reynolds called after them. “Rice you make sure she knows how to shoot, and train her on procedure in the off hours.”

Sloane and Liza turned back toward Reynolds, but she’d already disappeared into her office. “She owns my free time now, too?”

Sloane grinned at her, and her knees went a bit weak. “No, sugar, I own your free time.”

Liza got over her swooning and considered smacking the smile off his face, but he was already walking away. She followed him, because the stupid bond wanted her to.

*SLOANE*

Sloane could hear Liza stomping along behind him and his smile faded. He knew he had pissed her off, and he knew he deserved her anger. Smart-ass comments were his defense mechanism and right now he needed to defend himself, because all he could think about doing was pressing her against the wall, sliding her skirt up over her hips, and wrapping those very fine, perfectly shaped legs around him. He had always liked sex, but around Liza it was all he could think about. The bond was happy having her near, but it would be happier with him inside her. God, he couldn’t take it. His eyes had connected with hers in Reynolds’ office and he’d gotten hard. He couldn’t imagine partnering with her and not being able to look at her too closely for fear of inappropriate bodily reactions.

He stopped in the narrow hall and she ran into his back and growled at him. That little growl sent tremors of desire through his body. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the men’s room around the corner. “Hey—” she said as some guy, pissing into a urinal said, “What the hell?”

“Don’t mind us,” Sloane said. He led Liza into a stall and locked the door behind them.

“What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” She looked disgusted and confused, and her nose was crinkled in the cutest way. He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

“I want you,” he said.

Her expression softened, and he knew everything would be okay. “And this was the best place you could find for this?”

“I’ll make it up to you, later.”

“God, I hope this bond gives us a break, soon. I can’t live like this.”

“If it doesn’t, we may have to run away together and find a deserted island where we can walk around naked all day and f—”

She kissed him, he suspected as much to shut him up as because she was overcome with passion and desire for him. She would probably claim the former, but he was betting it was mostly the latter. The bathroom stall wasn’t the most comfortable or the most romantic of spots for a tryst, but when Liza wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled on his hair while she kissed him, he forgot where they were. He spun them around so that Liza’s back was to the stall door and lifted her up until their bodies aligned in the necessary ways. She was so small he held her up easily, but there was nothing delicate or fragile about her, as she reminded him when the nibble she’d been giving his ear turned into a gentle bite.

That bite sent a surge of adrenaline and desire straight through him and took his breath for a moment. Liza smiled, and something in him loosened and eased. He couldn’t get over how lucky he was to have bonded with Liza, who was so strong and smart and sexy, and willing to have sex in a bathroom stall just because he asked. He just stared at her for a moment, until the heat in her eyes blazed and became a bit pleading, and he realized there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

He set her down on her feet long enough to slip off her panties and put them in his pocket, they didn’t need to lay on the dirty bathroom floor. He teased her for a moment with his hand, she was so wet and ready for him that he moaned aloud while she reached for his pants. From one breath to the next, she was back in his arms, pressed between him and the stall door as he slid into her.

It felt so damn good to thrust into her, that he moved slow and pulled out inch by inch before he pushed hard back into her again. Liza groaned. “You feel so good,” she said. “I wish we could just do this all day, every day.”

He nodded his agreement, too overcome to talk. He moved slowly until neither of them could stand it anymore, and Liza was begging. He quickened his pace and they came together in a glorious explosion so intense, a rainbow of colors blinded Sloane. Liza lay on his chest for a moment, coming down slowly. He squeezed her tight against him and promised himself he would never do anything to push her away from him again. She kissed him gently under his ear and he almost started making promises and declarations. He knew Liza wasn’t ready for any of that, though, so he set her gently on her feet and helped her look like she hadn’t just had sex in a bathroom stall.

When they emerged from the bathroom, Sloane held onto Liza’s hand and she let him. There was no sense trying to hide their relationship. Reynolds knew about it and so did anyone within hearing distance of the men’s room. Liza glared at him and dropped his hand when he got a high five from Dougie in accounting. She pulled him into the nearest empty cubicle and pushed him against the wall. Her hands on his chest made his whole body thrum with desire, but the expression on her face told him she wasn’t looking for round two.

“Look,” she said. “Before you go getting any ideas, I’ve accepted that we can’t undo the bond and I’ll need to keep having sex with you, but I don’t even know you. We aren’t a couple, understand? We’re two people who need to have sex every few hours to keep from going crazy, but if you want anything more than that, you’re going to have to work for it. I expect to be wooed and I want to get to know you, and even then there are no guarantees.”

She looked so serious, but all he could focus on was her lips and how badly he wanted to lick and bite them, still puffy from being kissed by him.

“Are you laughing at me?”

He quickly swallowed the smile that had turned his mouth up without him realizing it and shook his head.

“Good, because don’t think for one second I won’t drop you and deal with the insanity the bond causes if you get out of line. And if you ever take advantage of the bond or use it to manipulate me, we will be done and there will be no coming back from that, understand?”

He nodded and used every ounce of strength he possessed not to kiss her. “Would you like to come over to my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner and we can watch a movie.”

She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay. Yes, I can do that.” Then she walked away from him and he followed her, sure that he’d follow her anywhere, bond or no bond. He couldn’t even hate himself for that unquestioning devotion, because it felt so good being around her.

*LIZA*

Liza stomped down the hall, fueled by fear of her desire for Sloane and by the need to get away from him before she kissed him, or worse, in that cubicle. She made it about twenty steps before she remembered she had no idea where she was going and stopped to wait for him. She wanted to be near him, but she also wanted to be as far from him as possible, because she needed to think and it was so hard to think when he was close.

When she’d told Reynolds about her dream she’d remembered something she’d forgotten and that something felt important, but she couldn’t figure out why. She needed to figure it out, but when Sloane was near, all she could think about was how good he looked with his shirt off, how his touch sent tingles all over her body, how his mouth belonged on hers all the time. “Damn it,” she hissed at him. “I still can’t think straight. How are we going to survive?”

“Sex,” Sloane whispered back, his grin cocky. “Lots and lots of sex.”

And she hated him a little bit, because it all seemed so easy for him, and because he was right. The sex in the bathroom did help clear her head a little bit, and if she could just sit somewhere quiet and think, she could figure out what was bothering her about the dream.

Sloane took her to a cubicle and she recognized Fulsom at one of the three desks. He grinned and waved at her. “Sounds like you two have been having fun this morning.”

She felt her cheeks heat, but she’d never been easy to embarrass and her need for sex was practically a medical condition at this point, so she just smiled with her teeth bared. “Which desk is mine?”

Fulsom pointed and she sat down, dropping her bag at her feet and looking around for a pen. She thought writing down the dream might jog her memory. Unfortunately, there was no pen or pad on her desk. She turned to ask the men for help and saw them both staring at her. “What?”

“You working on some case we don’t know about? Or are you just planning to ignore us all morning?” Fulsom asked.

She supposed, in retrospect, her entrance had been a little rude. “I’m sorry. There’s something about my dream and I just can’t… I thought if I wrote it down, maybe…”

“Or you could talk it out with us,” Sloane said. He stood, leaning against his desk, one ankle over the other, his huge arms crossed over his chest, and she knew she’d hurt him somehow. Could have been lecturing him after sex, or stomping down the hall, or ignoring him. She wasn’t usually like this. She really wasn’t. “Yeah, okay, that might help,” she said, trying to be normal. Trying to treat Sloane like some really hot, smart, sweet guy who wanted her and would probably, maybe, want her even without the bond. She pushed down her fear and recounted her dream yet again.

There were tears in her eyes when she was done. “It was the voice. The voice sounded so familiar… And the shoes. Maybe someone I’ve waited on at the restaurant?”

Sloane pulled her in for a hug and she felt comforted despite herself. “It’ll come to you.”

She pushed him away. “I’ve got some information about the drill.” She filled them in on what she’d learned, and Sloane put in some calls to try to track down who might have taken or bought materials from the Vandyke manufacturing plant. Apparently, it had to be someone with money or power or both, since those materials were kept under lock and key.

“It will take most of the afternoon for us to hear back about the drill,” Sloane said. “Want to go over to the range and work on your shooting?”

Liza could think of other things she’d like to do with Sloane, but she pushed them out of her mind and followed him out to the range. She didn’t tell him she’d been going to the shooting range with her father since she was six. She didn’t tell him that she could shoot a fly off an apple from fifty paces back. She’d let him figure it out for himself.

When they got back to the office, the information they’d been waiting on had arrived, but it was after five and Fulsom and most of the other agents had gone home for the evening. “Didn’t expect people here to keep bankers’ hours,” Liza said.

“Hmm, yeah,” Sloane said, his attention on the papers in front of him. “Wait, what did you say?”

“Why isn’t any one here?”

He shrugged. “Slow day, I guess. Agents are either out on cases or they went home to enjoy their lives while they have the chance.”

“What did the report say?”

“The guy who bought the drill parts is your friend, Arty.”

“But he’s fae.”

Sloane shrugged. “Want to go talk to him tonight or leave it until tomorrow?”

Liza was having trouble focusing on anything but thoughts of heading back to Sloane’s place and ripping his clothes off, and that was exactly why she knew she needed to suck it up and get herself together. She couldn’t let the bond rule her or her decisions.

“We should go talk to him, but maybe before we do…” She stepped close to Sloane and kissed his neck. “If there’s really no one here…”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. His hands woke her body to a hunger bordering on desperation and gave her the pleasure she needed to keep functioning long enough to go talk to Arty.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Liza,” Arty said. He looked like an elderly satyr, seated behind the same desk he’d sat at when Liza had visited him at home before. “Can’t say I wouldn’t be happier to see you without your boyfriend, but I’m glad you’ve accepted the bond.”

“He’s not—” Liza started to say Sloane wasn’t her boyfriend. It was just a reflex. She might be having sex with him every chance she got, but that was because of the freaky bond, not because she’d chosen him as a boyfriend.

Sloane cleared his throat to interrupt and glared at her. Liza pursed her lips and looked at Arty, who was watching them, his mouth quivering like he wanted to laugh. “Ah, so maybe accepted is too strong a word,” Arty said. “I’m always here, sweet Liza, if you get bored with this one.”

Liza felt Sloane tense next to her even without touching him, and she could feel his anger like heat. “We’re here to talk to you about an ocean drill,” she said. “Our records indicate you purchased it.”

Arty’s smile vanished. He stood and walked to a shelf that held several liquor bottles and glasses. “Drink?” he asked over his shoulder.

Both Sloane and Liza declined.

Arty sat down and took a swallow of a dark liquid. He leaned back and sighed. “Fae bourbon. The only stuff that gets me buzzed any more. I’ve got the last sixty bottles of it. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink?”

Liza was a bit shaky for more reasons than she could count, but she figured alcohol would only make it worse. “What did you buy the drill for, Arty?”

“It was my understanding that your boss, Reynolds is it? I thought Reynolds told you to drop this case.”

“We didn’t listen,” Sloane said. “Call me crazy, but I wasn’t too happy to just ignore dead mermaids.”

Arty nodded and took another drink. “It’s a pity you’ve decided to oppose me. We could have been great friends.”

Sloane growled and Liza put a hand on his arm to calm him. “I don’t know what you’re doing, so how can I oppose you?”

“You oppose me by sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ll give you a chance, though. You can take my word for it that you’re in way over your heads, and we can pretend you never saw the drill.”