Ava Gray - Skin Tight

She nodded, a vision of angelic determination. “Certainly.”

It was beyond him to leave without some tangible display of his ardor. “Gillie, may I kiss you?”

Delicate color stained her cheeks. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to ask that question.”

Tacit permission, then. Of course she was too demure to be more demanding in her desires. He adored that about her.

Like a child, she closed her eyes and puckered her mouth. He found the pose incredibly erotic. Later he would taste her tongue and her seductive shock at his carnal daring. For now he could content himself with a taste of her sweet, virginal mouth.

When Gillie pressed her lips to his, he nearly came in his pants. Rowan took a deep breath and stepped back, lest he frighten her. “Thank you, my dear. You are the soul of refinement. Now, I’m afraid I have business to take care of. It’s not more important than you,” he hastened to add, “but it is paramount to the execution of our plans.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

Rowan hurried out before his base lust frightened her. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he had business. The meeting would take place before he went to sleep for the day. Like a vampire, he’d often thought with a touch of amusement.

He couldn’t wait to add Frost to his collection of test subjects. At this rate, the idiot they’d hired might even receive that bonus he wanted. Rowan laughed softly-well, probably not. He had his needles ready to dispose of the man. It just wouldn’t do to have contractors running around with too much knowledge about the facility. Though he was leaving the company, Rowan wouldn’t relax his standards while he was still on the job.

Leaving ate up precious minutes. The silo was pure genius, he thought. Who would ever search a grain storage unit on an apparently functioning farm for access to a secret underground facility? Nobody had ever found it, no matter how hard they looked or what they suspected. And then Micor silenced them for good.

Once again, the farmhouse was quiet. Though it was highly unusual, he found himself too aroused to focus on business. There was no help for it. He would have to take matters in hand, or he would horrify his sweet Gillie by coming to her like a beast.

Inside, the plainness of his home pleased him. No pictures on the walls, no knickknacks to gather dust. His penis rubbed uncomfortably against his pants as he went upstairs, but no tawdry, hasty moments in the bathroom would tarnish his angel’s worth.

Instead, he went into the bedroom, where the shades were already drawn against the morning light, his bed meticulously made. Rowan wished he had more time, but relief was vital. So he lay down and unfastened his pants, exhaling softly at the pleasure.

He brought his erection through the slit in his boxers and checked the side table. Yes, he had tissues. Good. It was time to begin.

Rowan closed his eyes and constructed Gillie’s face and then focused on the delicious innocence of her lips. His hand worked up and down as he relived that kiss. He had to take care of this, so he didn’t frighten her. Since he often sublimated his sex drive in his work, it didn’t take long.

He cleaned up the evidence, washed up, and zipped up. Endorphins left him buzzing pleasantly as he got into the car. There was one final detail to consider before he could begin his new life.

Open twenty-four hours, Janice’s Diner remained the perfect place for a meeting. He didn’t think Smith was stupid enough to drag a hostage inside; surely, he’d use the trunk of his car. Still, it paid to be prepared for anything. If he smelled trouble inside, he’d drive on, and collect Frost another time.

The parking lot was nearly deserted, a good sign. He didn’t recognize the cars, but if Smith was smart, he didn’t always drive the same one. The man hadn’t struck him as having two spare brain cells to rub together, but sometimes appearances could be deceiving. Rowan parked and stepped in through the front door.

He scanned the place and spotted his quarry near the back, as he’d expected. The man hunched like a Neanderthal. Stifling a sigh at having to see Smith again, despite the imminent reward, he made his way toward the back.

“Morning, Boss.” The nasal tones threatened to give him a headache.

“I trust you have the package in your vehicle.”

“Safe and sound.”

“We’ll have coffee and then go out together. You will precede me every step of the way. You have not forgotten that I am armed?”

“No, Boss.” Smith was more of an uncommunicative lump than usual today.

No matter. He pantomimed drinking the coffee-no telling what parasites might be in it. These yokels probably brewed from the tap. And then he signaled Smith to move.

The big man did, placidly enough. Doubtless he remembered the threat of the needle. Good-fear always made people more malleable.

Smith walked up to a battered Toyota. His big body blocked the trunk as he popped it. “Take a look. He’s not dead. I don’t think. Can you die of carbon monoxofide poisoning in a trunk? This is kind of an old car.”

“Imbecile,” Rowan bit out. “If you have killed him, you’re not getting paid.” He pushed his way forward and saw-

A spare tire.

Before he could frame an angry question, the man slammed his head against the open trunk and pushed him inside in a movement so quick his eyes barely tracked it. Dazed and in pain, Rowan fumbled for his needles, but it was too late. Through a red haze, he saw a face superimposed on a face, as if Smith stood inside a vengeful ghost.

The trunk slammed, taking all the light, and then the air seemed to follow. Head blazing with agony, Rowan fell into the dark.

“It’s time,” Gillie whispered.

Taye pulled himself off the floor. His bruises looked a lot better, and he seemed to have the control he needed to make this work. If he didn’t, they were going to die slowly, along with everyone else in this place.

It was a miracle they hadn’t been discovered. When Rowan showed up unexpectedly the day before, it was all Gillie could do to keep from panicking. She’d been sure he knew she was hiding Taye, and that Silas was conspiring with them. Instead, he’d behaved like a deranged Victorian suitor. After he finally left, she’d brushed her teeth for five minutes.

In accordance with their plan, Silas had stopped giving Taye his injections altogether. With nothing damping his abilities, he could light this place up like a summer storm. But he had to be careful, too. Fire was extremely dangerous underground. If the lift shut down, they were done for. So the situation called for a certain amount of finesse.

“I’m ready,” he said in answer to her unspoken question. “I’ll sound the alarms at the far end of the complex and fry all the diagnostic equipment. Maybe put a short in some of the lights.”

“Can you open the cell doors?”

“I can,” he said. “But do you really think it’s a good idea?”

Gillie thought about the woman who had pressed her hand to the glass. “Yes. I want anyone who has the will and the desire to be able to leave when we do. What happens past that point is up to them.”

“They might do an amazing amount of damage up top.” She regarded him steadily. “So could you.”

“Good point.”

Taye’s brow furrowed, and a soft blue glow surrounded him. She’d never seen him completely unfettered before. His dark curls lifted as if in the wind, but she knew it was electrical current. Voltage crackled from his fingertips, and the lights in her apartment dimmed. Then a siren went off, just as he’d promised. Gillie heard the sound of running feet-techs and orderlies running to check out the problem.