Dancing on the Wind (19 page)

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” she echoed, and turned to open the door.

Breslin was leaning with his hips against a desk at the front of the training room, his

arms folded and his face hard as stone. He tracked Keenan’s movement to a

comfortable chair but seemed to ignore Fallon’s taking a seat beside her. The Supervisor

was already seated and going over a thick file in his lap, apparently so engrossed with

the material he did not greet the new arrivals.

“Class starts at 0730 every day, Agent McCullough,” Breslin said. “You’re late.”

“I don’t remember you giving us a time to be here,” Keenan responded to his harsh

tone. “Do you, Misha?”

Her use of Fallon’s nickname made the Supervisor look up.

“If he did, I sure as shit didn’t hear him,” Fallon replied.

“0730 from now on,” Breslin snapped. “And not a minute after.”

“And fuck you too,” Fallon said in a pleasant voice as he thrust out his long legs,

crossed them at the ankles and braced his head in his hands.

“Watch your language, Agent Fallon,” the Supervisor warned in a low voice that

did not quite hide the hint of amusement.

“Since you’ve already wasted a half hour of my time…”

“And it’s such precious time too, isn’t it?” Fallon smirked.

“Let’s get to it,” Breslin said, ignoring the jibe. “Keenan, did you study the

information on Regis Cove last night?”

“She was with me last night,” Fallon said. “All night.”

Breslin squinted and a muscle worked in his cheek. “Sir, if you would ask Agent

Fallon to refrain from speaking until he has been asked to do so, I would appreciate it.”

“Just as I’d appreciate it if you’d drop dead, but since I doubt I’ll get what I want,

it’s not likely you’ll get what you want either,” Fallon told him.

“Fallon,” the Supervisor said, drawing the name out. He looked up. “Get on with it,

Breslin.”

“So you did not familiarize yourself with the material?” Breslin grumbled.

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“I read every word of it this morning, memorized it and filed it away for use later,”

Keenan said. “What do you want to know, Zack?”

Two hours later, Fallon was bored out of his mind, humming to himself and staring

at the ceiling. It was a relief when the Supervisor told him he could go. Not having to be

told a second time, he drew his long legs in and was out of the room in a flash.

Three hours after that, he caught up with Keenan in the cafeteria just as she was

about to join Matty for lunch.

“Oh shit. Here comes Attila the Hun,” he heard Matty complain.

“And a merry fucking afternoon to you too, quack,” Fallon said, and swung a long

leg over a chair and slid down into it. He leaned over to give Keenan a peck on the

cheek. “I see you survived Faith Healing 101.”

“You seem in a good mood,” she said, casting a quick look to Matty.

“I
am
in a good mood,” he said. He aimed his attention at Matty. “Benevolent

enough to overlook you consorting with the horny doctor.”

“Did you fall and hit your head, Fallon?” Matty inquired as he scored the pork chop

on his plate.

“You’re not a threat,” Fallon said then rapped his fingers on the edge of the table as

he looked around the room. “Where’s the asshole?”

“He and the Supervisor are having lunch together,” Keenan said. She stuffed a

forkful of salad—the only food she’d purchased—into her mouth. “I wasn’t invited.

Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Had a couple of burgers and fries before I came back,” was the response.

“What he means is he ate six quarter pound hamburgers, four cartons of fries and

swilled down the largest pop they had at the counter then topped it off with two fried

apple pies,” Matty said dryly.

“I don’t doubt it,” Keenan said. “I’ve seen his eating habits.”

“It was three fried apple pies, but who’s counting?” Fallon sniffed.

“You’d better watch his sugar intake, Keenan,” Matty warned.

Keenan smiled. “Tell me about the DNA cloning project you’re working on,” she

said.

Matty’s face lit. “We’re making real progress. Can you imagine the implications if

we succeed?”

“What do you mean?” she asked as she took the last bite of her salad.

“Think about it, Keenan,” Matty said. “People are dying every day for want of new

hearts, livers and kidneys. There just aren’t enough to go around and it’s become a big

thing on the black market. Poor people sell their organs to feed their families. You have

unscrupulous funeral home directors who clandestinely sell bone and tissue that is

diseased, infecting unsuspecting transplant patients who die needlessly from someone

else’s illness. If cloning becomes the norm, we’ll all have expendable molds from which

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to take the pieces-parts we need to live fifty years longer than the norm. I’m working up

a facial replica right now from blood and tissue samples I received a few days ago. Sort

of a living mask.” He grinned broadly. “Guess who the model is.”

“You’d better not,” Fallon warned, eyes narrowing, his good mood disappearing in

a flash.

“Who?” Keenan asked, looking from one man to the other when neither answered.

She repeated her question, taking up her napkin to wipe her lips.

“You,” Fallon growled.

“Me?” she gasped.

Matty waved his fork. “I’m just trying to duplicate your blood and tissue, Keenan.

It’s not like I’m attempting to clone you. That’s years away, but if I can genetically

generate a piece of living tissue, I’m more than halfway there to re-creating an entire

body. We can grow replacement ears on a mouse so why not replacement faces for burn

victims?”

Keenan felt chill bumps prickle her arm. “I don’t think I’d like to find out I had a

Stepford sister lying in a tank of embryonic fluid somewhere, Matty.”

“A long way off,” Matty said, scooping up a forkful of peas.

Fallon stared at the scientist-physician sitting across from him. Matty had some psi

powers of his own and had always been hard to read. At that moment, Fallon found the

man’s mind completely sealed off and that concerned him. He thought about the people

waiting for the monorail that morning—the unsmiling, single-minded worker bees,

who never spoke, never smiled, were never seen taking part in any of the activities at

the Exchange. He shuddered, hoping Matty wasn’t doing something they would all

regret.

“Leave her out of your experiments, Matty,” Fallon said. “I mean it.”

“All right,” Matty said, and continued to eat.

“What did you do while I was being bored stiff this morning?” Keenan asked,

finishing off her raspberry lemonade.

“I made good use of my time,” he said. “I also went by scheduling and signed us

out from 1800 Friday until 2100 Sunday.”

Matty looked up. “You two going somewhere?”

“We’re taking the weekend off,” Fallon said. “Thought I’d take her up to the Dells.”

“Man, I love the Dells,” Matty said. “Neat place.” His eyebrows drew together.

“Are you taking your bike?”

“We’ll be taking my car,” Keenan said. “No way am I riding all that way on the

back of a motorcycle.”

“Chicken,” Fallon accused.

“Responsible adult,” she countered then saw Breslin motioning for her. She sighed.

“Recess is over, guys.” She stood. “Are you coming back to the lecture?”

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Fallon shook his head. “Not on your life,
myneeast caillagh
.” He too stood. “I think

I’ll do some more research on Bolivar.”

“Then I’ll see you back at the dorm after sixth period,” she said with a grin.

“Unless teacher makes you stay for detention,” Matty chuckled.

“He’d best not,” Fallon stated.

Watching her walk away, Fallon felt a tiny squeeze to his heart. He knew he had

fallen hard for the woman and life without her would never be the same. His intense

feelings for her had blossomed so quickly, so thoroughly he still had trouble believing

it.

“She is one terrific lady,” Matty said.

Fallon looked around. “If you want to be friends with her, Matt, that’s okay by me,

but if you have something else in mind, I’d think again if I were you.”

Matty held his hands up. “I get it,” he said. “She’s yours. There’s no need to belabor

the point, Misha.”

Yet there was something in Matty’s gaze that belied the acceptance of the situation.

And that worried Fallon.

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“Oh my God!” Keenan said, walking around the low-slung sports car. She shot

Fallon an open-mouthed look of surprise. “This is what you were doing this morning?

Buying this?”

“Like it?”

She ran her hand over the sleek black metallic finish from front headlight to taillight

before she answered. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh God, yes!”

He dangled the keys on the tip of his index finger. “Wanna take her for a spin?”

Keenan snatched the keys. “Get in, lineman!”

Fallon laughed as she practically ran around to the driver’s side. “I hope you can

drive a stick.”

“Do Canada geese poop in flight?” she asked, sliding behind the wheel.

He got in and shut the door, smiling broadly as he watched her run the palms of

her hands up and down the outside of the braided leather steering wheel cover as

though it were a lover’s body.

Keenan took them off the Exchange and onto the highway that led to Marshalltown,

dropping the convertible roof so the wind could whip their hair. He settled back in the

luxurious leather seat as she put the car through its paces, getting it up to a hundred on

one flat stretch then letting it slow to the requisite fifty-five, cruising along as though

she owned the road.

“She handles like a dream,” she pronounced.

“Consider her yours any time you want to drive her,” he said. “Otherwise, she’ll

just sit in the garage alongside my bike.”

“And that would be a waste of a prime lady,” she said. She scowled as a car shot

past them as though they were standing still. For a moment Fallon thought she’d

retaliate, but then she sighed.

“There you go being a responsible adult again,” he teased.

“Are you going to take your bike down to Georgia?” she asked.

“It would fit the persona of a lone badass better than this piece of fluff,” he said.

“Fluff,” she said with a snort. “This beauty is so far above that description it ain’t

funny. This is pure evil on a stick shift, Fallon.”

“Even so, the bike will be better.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

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“How ’bout we eat supper up in Marshalltown tonight?” he asked. “I know this

really great little Mexican restaurant that serves the best fajitas this side of Acapulco

and their frozen margaritas are sinful.”

“Sure, but I need to get back fairly early. Breslin loaded me down with all kinds of

mountain-related stuff he wants me to learn.” She flicked him a glance. “You don’t have

to worry about setting up a persona. You’ve got the badass part down pat, lineman.”

He leaned toward her and cupped her between the legs with his right hand. “You

think?” He kneaded her, pressing his thumb over the spot in her pants where he knew

her clit was located.

“You’re as evil as your new car, Fallon,” she said, her breath quickening. She

glanced behind them then whipped the car into a nearly ninety degree turn as she took

it down a narrow gravel road. White dust flew behind them until she discovered a

grass-streaked farm lane and jerked the wheel—fishtailing the sports car—onto it. A

quarter of a mile down the potholed, almost non-existent path, the lane petered out.

Slamming on the brakes, the Porsche jolted to a stop and she turned off the engine and

popped open her seat belt.

Fallon dragged her over the console and onto his lap, his hands molding to her

breasts as their mouths clashed. Hard as stone beneath her shapely ass, he arched his

hips up, grinding against her.

“Umm,” she said into his mouth, and pushed herself up on her knees so she could

wedge a hand between them and free him from his black denim jeans. Tearing her

mouth free, she slid onto the floorboard and, before he could stop her, had her lips

around his cock, suckling him hard.

“Damn, baby,” he gasped, one hand slapped to the edge of the door and the other

grabbed hold of the stick shift as her mouth devoured him. His hips were flexing

upward with every draw of her lips.

Getting a blowjob was nothing new for Fallon, but one this intense, so
hungry
, both

baffled and made him proud as hell that he’d found a woman who enjoyed doing him.

From the way she moved her tongue under the head of his cock, this wasn’t her first

time at oral sex, but he intended to make sure he was the last man she pleasured in that

way. Just the thought of her doing this with another man brought a red haze to his

vision and he moved his hand from the stick shift to her hair to hold her head against

him. He saw her look up through her eyelashes at him then she squeezed him so tight

with her lips he nearly came. Grinding his teeth, he shoved his hands under her armpits

and pulled her off him.

“I want inside you,” he growled.

Keenan’s eyes glittered as he threw open the door. She scrambled off him and into