Pitch Black (36 page)

“Ready?” he asked Sam, who had already gotten in the car.

“More than.”

Alec didn’t even consider the ramifications of his overnight assignment until after they were in the car, driving back to D.C. He had offered to spend the night with Samantha Dalton. In a hotel room. Not more than a few hours after he’d realized he had feelings for the woman.

Shit.
He was in for a long night.

Sam didn’t seem to share his concern. She was too busy being grateful her mother was okay and, apparently, safely in the arms of someone who had loved her for a long time. “My God, imagine if Nate hadn’t gone over there?” she said, not for the first time. She stared out the passenger window, shaking her head. “What if she’d gone to meet a murderer?”

“We don’t know that this Randolph Gertz guy is Darwin.”

“You said yourself his e-mails were way over the top. Like the ones he used on other victims.”

Yes, they were. He and Wyatt had read every one while Taggert and Mulrooney had gotten on the phone with Brandon to get tech advice on how to proceed. They were worded strangely, with some outrageous claims. Then again, this was online dating they were talking about, where fifty-year-old salesmen claimed to be twenty-nine-year-old bodybuilders.

“Okay, they were fishy. But I bet so are a lot of the other subscribers to that site.”

They fell silent for a while, and he knew she was sitting there playing the what-if game.

Finally, she whispered, “After tonight, I have never been so glad for life.”

Odd choice of words. “Glad for life?”

“Glad for hers.” She turned in the seat, tucking one bent leg beneath her. “And mine.”

“Ahh.”

“I haven’t been. Letting myself get so down and miserable for the past year—longer, really—was like turning my back on life.” Yawning, she added, “That’s over now.” She leaned her head to the side, resting it on the back of the seat. Within moments, her lids closed.

Alec kept his eyes on the road. That didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t glance over at her a few times, watching her sleep. Watching her dream. Hoping those dreams were good ones for a change. He hoped she had an entire night full of them.

In the next room. Far away from him.

Sam was being chased.
An evil, malevolent force kept up with her as she ran through shadowy streets. Every terrified gasp she made brought a low laugh. Each step seemed half the length of the monster’s following her.

The neighborhood was familiar—her mother’s. But all the houses were shuttered and unwelcoming, no friendly faces from her childhood in sight. Suddenly she reached a cliff, where there had never been a cliff, and her terror propelled her off it until she flew. Swimming through the air, which was so much heavier than water, she couldn’t go far. Not nearly far enough.

A scrape of claws across her ankle. She began to fall.

“No!”

Sam awoke from the nightmare, shooting straight up in the bed. She choked in a few deep, gasping breaths as her heart sprinted. The room was dark, the only light the glow of red from the bedside clock.

The color confused her. Red, not green?

Then she remembered. The hotel.

And she remembered something else. Her nightmare was merely a reflection of what her life had become. A monster really was out there in the night, stalking her.

“Sam?” The door pushed open a few inches. “Are you okay?”

“Not as okay as I’d like to be.”

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t supposed to have those tonight.”

“Tell my subconscious that.” Sam threw the covers back and got out of the bed, wanting one of the bottles of water in the small fridge. “I need a drink.”

Her eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness of the room, and she put a hand out, reaching for the edge of the door but connecting with firm male skin instead.

She froze, realizing her hand had landed on his broad chest. His broad,
bare
chest, judging by the ripples of muscle and the crisp hair brushing her fingers.

“Why don’t you let me turn on a light?” he said, sounding as though he was pulling the words out of a constricted throat.

“Please don’t.” She stepped closer, until they stood only inches apart. Warmth emanated from the man, such a contrast to her coldness. She had on a flimsy, silky negligee that she’d worn perhaps twice in her life—his friend Mulrooney’s idea of appropriate nightwear for a woman in a safe house—and had been freezing for the past two nights.

Suddenly, though, she found herself not minding her attire as much. Her eyes had begun to adjust, and there was no way she could miss the outright hunger in Alec’s as he visually consumed her, his attention locked on the lacy edge of the gown that barely covered her breasts.

He made a sound like a low growl and muttered, “You should go back to bed.”

Staring up at him, she replied, “I intend to.” Then she further stated her intentions by pressing the entire length of her body against his. Heat and silk, his glittering eyes, and the strength of the man, all combined to bring shivers of delight and full-on desire. Lifting her other hand, she made a thorough study of his broad chest, tangling her fingers in that spiky hair, tracing them across thick ropes of muscle.

His body was every inch hard. Utterly male.

Yet, still vulnerable. When her hand brushed over a small, rigid lump just below his left clavicle, Sam immediately knew what it was. She leaned close, covering the scar with her lips, kissing it and mentally cursing the woman who had caused it.

“Sam . . .”

“Shh.”

In the darkness, she kissed along his chest and up to his shoulder, finding another of those damned scars and treating it tenderly. Moving on, she tasted and nibbled her way up the side of his strong neck until she felt the rasp of his rough cheek against her own. “I’m so sorry you went through such pain, Alec,” she whispered as she flicked her tongue across his earlobe.

He said nothing, keeping still, his jaw flexing, his neck muscles strained, as if he was holding on to control with both fists.

That was admirable. But frankly, she’d had enough of it. Something had happened to her tonight. She had already realized she was ready to stop hibernating, to begin forward motion again. Now, she didn’t just want to step forward; she wanted to race into her future. Thinking she had lost someone she loved hammered home the need to go full throttle, to grasp happiness with greed and abandon. What an utter waste, throwing away a year on sadness, anger, and regret. She had completely cut herself off from human contact, emotional and physical.

Right now, she craved both.

“Alec, I know the timing’s not right. And if you really want me to back off, I will. But to tell you the truth, after what happened tonight, I’ve decided it’s time to start reaching out and taking life instead of letting it pass me by. To grab each minute and make it as spectacular as I can.” She pressed a warm, openmouthed kiss on the pulse point just below his ear. “I think we could be pretty spectacular.”

With a groan of surrender, he put his hands on her hips and tugged her harder against him until she felt the powerful erection pressing into her belly. Her mouth fell open on a soft, helpless sigh as her hips arched forward; she needed that heat, that strength.

Burying his face in her hair, breathing her in, he admitted, “I know we could be.”

There was no triumph at having seduced him, or having appealed to his innate sexual nature. They were both winners in this, both doing what they’d wanted to do since they’d met, and Sam could muster up no regret about it.

Especially not when his hands moved, those strong fingers caressing her hips before sliding around to curve over her backside. He kissed her earlobe, as she had his, pressed that warm mouth on her own neck, bending her back so he could sample the hollow of her throat.

“Alec,” she groaned, “I need—”

He cut her off by taking her mouth. His lips opened on hers, his tongue hot and demanding. Sam met the warm thrusts, glad for his strong grip on her as all her strength seemed to depart. She became one tall, quivering mass of desire, existing for nothing more than this man’s hands and his mouth. And, oh, God, the rest of him.

He didn’t even stop kissing her as he lifted her by the hips. Her legs parted instinctively.

She wrapped them around his lean hips, grinding against him as he carried her to the bed and tossed her onto it, immediately following her down.

Deep kiss followed deep kiss, his touch inflaming her wherever it went. He slid her gown up and off, tossing it away, then tasted his way down the entire front of her body. At the rasp of his tongue against her nipple, she arched up for more.

Twining her fingers in his hair, she cried, “Yes,” as he gave her what she wanted, sucking fast and hard. But only for a few seconds. Then he tortured her, moved away. Built the tension all over again before finally giving in to her demands and suckling again.

“You taste so good, Sam,” he murmured as he continued a downward journey, devouring her body, savoring her as if she was a banquet laid out before him.

She hissed when his lips reached the hollow just above her pelvic bone, and cried out when they moved even lower. He held her hips, keeping her in place when she wanted to roll and thrash and demand the chance to taste him as he was her. Not that she really minded. God, no. When he found her pulsing center and began caressing it with his tongue, her cries were definitely not ones of complaint.

She shook and thrust as an orgasm washed over her, the first she’d had with another person in a very long time. Alec pulled back to watch her, his eyes glittering with satisfaction as he beheld her helpless cries of pleasure.

Sam savored it, but not for long. She wanted more. So much more. Sitting up, she pushed Alec onto his back and reached for his pants. “You’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”

Easily remedied. He let her tug his pants off, then his boxer briefs. Afterward, she sat back on her heels, sighing and staring in avarice at his thick arousal. “I’ve wanted you so much,” she mumbled as she reached out to encircle him, amazed by his heat and his silky smoothness. “Since the minute you knocked on my door.”

“Ditto.”

She could drag this out, could taste him and suck him into madness, the way he had to her. But she was too impatient. It had been too long; she needed to be filled. She slid up his body, straddling his thighs, quivering at the delicious scrape of his rougher skin against her own.

“Sam, are you . . .”

She knew what he was asking and nodded, thankful as hell that she hadn’t gone to the doctor and had her IUD removed. “Covered. I want to do lots of things with you, Alec, but right now? I just have to take you.”

His lazy smile and the brush of his hand against her hip said,
So take
.

She did. Staring down at him, she moved over his erection, sighing a little in anticipation. Fully aroused and wet, she slid down an inch at a time, savoring the penetration after such a long period of going without. Down and down, until she’d taken all of him and he was touching the very core of her body.

He groaned. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he muttered, reaching up and burying his hands in her hair. Tangling his fingers in it, he pulled her down for a hungry kiss. Each thrust of his tongue was matched by one from his hips, and Sam could only whimper with pleasure.

Despite the position, she didn’t take control as their bodies began to dance in the most intimate sort of give and take. They shared it, matching each other’s rhythms, anticipating each stroke. At one point, Alec flipped her over, driving into her hard, both of them driven beyond thinking, beyond anything but sensation as he imprinted himself on her mind, body, and soul.

Finally, he groaned and she knew he was about to go over the edge. She let herself go, too, and cried out her own climax seconds after his. But she didn’t let him go, keeping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist for several long minutes as they both let themselves float back down to earth.

He finally left her, rolled onto his side, but stayed close, one arm draped across her waist. Pressing gentle kisses on her face, he murmured sweet, nearly unintelligible words about how beautiful she was and how much he wanted her.

She had never felt more cherished. Not once.

“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling happier than she had in forever, despite everything that had brought them to this moment.

He smiled, a picture of male confidence. “Hey, it was totally my pleasure.”

“I meant, thanks for knocking on my door,” she said with a low, husky laugh. “Though, thanks for the sex, too.”

“You’re doubly welcome.”

He nuzzled her neck, then ran a possessive hand all over the front of her, roaming and exploring, until he reached the juncture of her thighs and began to lazily stroke her back up to a fever pitch. “Be sure to tell your friend that your girl parts most definitely have not dried up and fallen off.”

Laughing as she remembered that first phone call, she began to utter a sultry reply about becoming wetter by the minute. But those words died in her throat.

“Oh, my God.”

A thought burst through her mind, sudden and completely unexpected. She hadn’t given her best friend a thought after she’d read that awful message on her blog post tonight. Her thoughts had gone in only one direction, toward her mother. For the second time in as many hours, she lunged straight up in the bed, gasping and terrified.

“What is it?”

“Tricia.” She stumbled out of the bed, wanting to get to her phone. “God, Alec, what if the target was Tricia?”

Quick impressions
 . . . Voices. Pain. And cold.

Tricia tried to open her eyes. Couldn’t. They were disconnected from her brain somehow.

Where am I? What the hell happened to me?

She didn’t know, could barely think. Something about a meeting. Showing a property, an old warehouse. Buyer had been on the hook for weeks. Was coming through town, wanted to meet. She’d unlocked the lockbox, stepped inside.

Then blackness.