Leslie Parrish - Pitch Black

“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, plunging 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 release him, 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 eventually 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? God, what 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.

“Hey, baby, looks like you don’t need no more of that bottle. How ’bout sharin’?”

Strange voice, echoing. Every word repeated twice in her head.

“Mm-mm, girl, I think you had enough.” Another voice. Deeper. Laughing.

“Yeah, she looks wasted.”

How many were there?

“What’s that on her chest?”

Someone moved closer. “Help me,” she whispered, though her voice was so weak, she barely heard it herself.

A loud bark of laughter split her skull. “Check this out. Bitch wants to get it on!”

Movement. More voices. Hands reaching for her. Groping. Sliding up her bare leg. Where are my clothes?

“No need to beg. I’ll give it to you.”

“Hey, motherfucker, back off. I saw her first.”

“She got enough to share. Gonna slice me off a piece of that.”

Fingers digging into her thighs, pulling them apart. She struggled, managed to get her eyes open. Blinked to bring her vision into focus, saw she was outside, on the ground, men around her, beside her, above her.

“Wha…?”

“Shh,” the closest one said, leaning close so she could smell the reeking breath. “We’re gonna give you what you wanted.”

He reached for his pants. She tried to scream.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

Another man. Loud, strong-massive.

“Please… help me,” she whispered, staring up at him as he tossed the others out of the way. She stared into his dark brown eyes, kind eyes, despite the huge, beefy body, the gangsta clothes, the gold jewelry.

“Please.”

She felt hands on her. Moving her. Lifting her.

The light faded as she slipped into unconsciousness once more.

They located Tricia at a city hospital a little before dawn, after making frantic phone calls throughout the rest of the night. A woman of her description had been brought in a couple of hours earlier. Though nearly incoherent, she’d come around enough to say her first name.

For what seemed the dozenth time in a week, Alec found himself driving between the nation’s capital and Baltimore, a panicked Sam sitting beside him. Only now, she wasn’t just a witness, not just an attractive stranger. She was his lover, in every sense of the word. And she was on the verge of shattering into a million pieces.

His fault. Jesus, it was all his fault. If he had never shown up at her place, never knocked on her door, never gotten her involved, perhaps she wouldn’t have drawn the attention of a madman. A madman who now wanted to punish her by hurting those she loved.

Of course, if he’d never shown up at her door, they wouldn’t have shared the amazing hour in that hotel bed. But he’d trade it in a second to make her happy, safe, and whole again.

He had tried calling Wyatt, but had received no answer. Even after working for him for only a week, Alec already knew that was very unusual for the man. Leaving him a message, he’d then called the others, reaching everyone except Lily. They all sounded as exhausted as he felt, but every one of them said they’d be in Baltimore as soon as possible.

“What exactly did the police say?” Sam asked.

He’d told her twice but knew she needed to fill the time until they got there. “That she was found in an alley in a bad part of town, wearing next to nothing, holding a half-empty bottle of booze, with an obscene note pinned to her bra strap.”

It was a miracle the woman hadn’t been raped. Apparently Tricia had been at the center of a gang of young hoods when a bar owner had spotted them and put a stop to it. The bystander had brought her to the hospital.

“I guess Good Samaritans really do exist,” he murmured, feeling a quick stab of satisfaction that at least part of the Professor’s hateful plan hadn’t worked.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were escorted to Tricia’s room, finding a city police officer standing guard, as Alec had requested. He flashed his badge as Sam peered in, her bottom lip between her teeth. When she let out a cry of relief and flew through the door, he knew Tricia wasn’t quite as bad off as they’d feared.