Midnight Promises (15 page)

That was exactly the kind of statement dumb guys made just before opening themselves up to being slashed open by a sharp tongue.

She shook her head. “Me either. That was amazing.”

Metal nodded. “And it wasn’t even sex.”

She made a choked sound, like a laugh and a cough at the same time. “Well, it sure felt like sex. For me, at least. You didn’t, em…”

“I didn’t get off, no. But it was still amazing.” His eyes circled her face. “We’ll be having the real thing. Soon.”

Another choked sound. “Yeah.”

“You still have stitches and bandages.”

“What stitches? What bandages?”

This time he made the choked laugh sound. He touched the tip of his forefinger to her nose. “Okay. So I’m going to the bathroom for a shower and a shave.” And to jerk off. “And then I’ll help you wash. No shower for you yet, but soon. And then we go into ASI.”

“ASI?”

“My company. Jacko’s company. We’ve put in a request to have the airport footage and it might be arriving soon.”

She used her elbows and sat up against the pillows. “You put in a request?” she echoed blankly. “For the footage?”

“Yeah. We’ll see if we can get a visual on the guy and then—”

Felicity shook her head, amused. “You didn’t need to put in a request. I could get that footage for you in three minutes, Sean. Tops. I didn’t do it sooner because I didn’t think about it. I felt really awful and weak and I wasn’t thinking straight. But now I feel much better and I can get the footage from the airport from here. By the time you get out of the shower, in fact.”

Metal didn’t even try to argue with her. He knew his hackers and the distinction between legally and illegally obtaining data wasn’t one they easily grasped. He used the only argument he could. “We’re going to involve the Portland PD and if we catch the fucker there’s going to be a trial and he’s going to be put behind bars for a long long time. To do that we need to observe legal niceties otherwise any evidence will be thrown out long before we get to trial. So thanks for the thought but we’ll do this the official way.”

“Okay. But I’ll get that footage for you anyway so that we can start work on it. And then when the ‘official’ footage comes we’ll be ahead of the game. Hospital footage too.”

Metal nodded. He had no trouble whatsoever with getting the jump on the authorities. If they caught the guy they’d just catch him again on the footage provided by the airport. Which was still pissed at the fake bomb alert. He knew John had to tiptoe around that one. If the airport authorities figured out that Felicity was the one to pull the alarm she’d be in trouble. Even if she’d saved her own life.

Metal was not about to let that happen.

He bent down to kiss her and went to the bathroom for a shower and a shave and a little relief.

He tried really really hard not to hobble his way there because he had a true blue steeler, and it fricking hurt. For a second, just a second there, he’d been about to come in his pants, feeling her wet heat contract around his hand. Ah, God. Hand in her, tongue in her, he’d felt every second of her climax, felt the long rise and sharp fall. Something else he’d felt—her surprise. As if it was all new to her. Unexpected.

He wasn’t new to getting his rocks off but this was all unexpected for him, too, even if the getting-his-rocks-off part hadn’t happened. Didn’t matter.

She was wrong, he thought, as he shucked his clothes and dropped them to the bathroom tiles. He hadn’t come, but it had definitely been sex. He’d been with her every step of the way except for the very end when he pulled himself back from the brink because he didn’t want to come in his pants. Not cool.

Although everything else about it had been cool. Her tongue tangled with his, mouths eating at each other. Her hands clinging to his shoulders, keeping him close as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be, which was crazy. Her legs and sex completely open to him. He’d felt the trembling in her thighs just before she started coming…

He stepped into the shower and turned the water on. Cold. He didn’t need hot water. His body was generating all the heat he needed. He looked down at himself, stiff as a club, huge and almost inflamed-looking. Tip shiny with precome. He moved under the water and the cold stream did little to cool him down. It was suprising steam didn’t come off him.

He couldn’t stop the images in his head, that gold-and-ivory goddess in his bed, gasping into his mouth, pulling hard against his finger, so hard her hips lifted against his hand.

She hadn’t been able to stay still—writhing against him, lifting one leg to wrap around his hips, making herself even more open to him.

She’d been so hot and wet, arms tightening around him, mouth open under his. Every part of her warm and welcoming and so incredibly desireable.

Metal was as tall as the showerhead. He stepped right under the icy spray, bowing his head so he could fit, looking straight down at himself.

His hand wrapped around his dick. Usually the touch of his hand alone gave him a little relief because Pavlovian little devil that it was, his dick recognized that as a prelude to getting off. It didn’t work this time because his dick also recognized that this was going to be a piss-poor substitute for what it really wanted.

What it really really wanted was to slide into Felicity’s slick and welcoming sex, slide in really deep and really hard.

Everything he knew about women told him she would welcome him and not pushing in and fucking her was the bravest thing he’d ever done. His medals for operating under fire? Not fucking her had been just as hard.

But he’d been really worked up and he might have been rough and hurt her and that image—of Felicity crying out in pain and not pleasure—stopped him dead.

It hadn’t been easy controlling himself, though.

He gave an experimental slide down his dick and then back up. It wasn’t Felicity but it was better than nothing. He couldn’t go back out with his dick waving in her face, so it was going to have to be now and it was going to have to be with his hand.

Another experimental slide, then another. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine he was in her. He’d go in slow at first. She’d been wet but small, and he didn’t want to hurt her. So he’d slide in slowly…his fist followed his thoughts. Down, up, down.

He’d fit. He’d make sure of that. Moving in and out of her, he’d kiss her, kiss her neck, maybe take just a little nip. She’d jolted when he’d done that.

Oh yeah.

His hips were following his hand as he remembered how she’d jolted, then shook, then trembled and then came.

Man, that had been ace, feeling her come around his hand.

The same hand that was pumping his dick, faster and faster now until he got harder and bigger and then started coming, in long pulls that made his knees weak.

He shot his other hand out against the tiles to keep himself upright because the memory of Felicity coming, and his own climax, made his knees weak.

It finally ended and he sighed, letting the water cascade over him until finally it registered as cold. He looked down at himself. Even after coming he was still half-erect. But his dick would have to take a hike. And maybe it wasn’t possible to not be half-erect when Felicity was in the next room.

He’d gotten off, that would have to be enough. He couldn’t stay here forever under the cold shower while Felicity needed him. Nope.

He shut the water off, dried and got dressed, already looking forward to seeing her again.

*

Metal—Sean—came out from the bathroom bare-chested, shaved, in clean jeans and smelling of soap. Had he shampooed? He had a skull trim and Felicity had no idea how those worked. Certainly he didn’t need to blow-dry his hair.

He smiled at her and walked across the room, keeping his eyes on her the whole time, and oh my. She’d been lying in a puddle of pleasure, completely wiped out. But the sight of all that beefcake—tons of ripped muscles moving in perfect harmony as an alpha male moved straight to what it wanted—woke her tired body up and infused it with newfound energy.

Because what this alpha male wanted was her.

Where two seconds before she’d been a formless mass of sweat-soaked bliss all her muscles tightened as strode toward her. Her most reliable ally, her brain, had gone AWOL and all that was left was hormones and erogenous zones. Breasts, sex, mouth, belly…every inch of her that he’d kissed and touched roared to life.

He couldn’t possibly think she was ready for a second round, did he? Because she wasn’t. Absolutely not. Well
maybe
, she thought as she watched all those muscles moving. If he asked nicely.

He stopped by the bedside and looked down at her. She must be quite a sight. Hair spread out all over the pillow, lips swollen. Completely naked.

He held out an enormous hand. “Come on, honey. You’ll feel better after washing and putting on clean clothes.”

She blinked. “Feel
better
? This is one of the top ten moments of my life.”

He didn’t smile often but when he did it was spectacular.

He lifted her out of the bed and she stood awkwardly, very aware of her nudity. Covering her breasts and sex with an arm and a hand would be really stupid after what they had shared but she had to practically order her arms to stay down. She wasn’t used to nudity in front of other people. Her few sexual encounters had been firmly under the covers and she’d gotten dressed the instant she was out of the bed. This embarrassment was really dumb and she had to get over it.

She stared at the ground and there were his bare feet. His feet were absolutely
fascinating.
Very long but narrow and with high arches. Tendons and raised veins running over the top of the feet, a few blond hairs on the straight toes. They could have been the feet of a Greek marble statue only flesh-toned.

Sex had broken what little filter she had between brain and mouth. Head still down, she opened her mouth and “You have beautiful feet” came out.

And she blushed.

His head was down too. “You have beautiful feet too. Prettier than mine, that’s for sure.” He stepped forward and placed his big feet outside her much smaller feet. She had on pale pink toe polish. It was an interesting contrast.

“I have prettier nail polish too,” she mused.

He lifted his big foot, examined it. “Yep.”

They both laughed, lifted their heads. Their eyes met and her awkwardness was gone, just like that.

He tugged at her hand. “Let’s get you washed and dressed.”

Before, it had sounded so outlandish. She’d been washing and dressing herself forever. She didn’t need help. Helping her get washed and dressed made her sound like a child. And even as a child she’d been self-sufficient for as long as she could remember. Her mother had never helped her get dressed and ready for school, she’d always done it herself.

But Metal made it not awkward and infantalizing. And to her surprise, she did need help. She could probably have done it all herself but it would have taken forever and it would have been painful. With Metal’s help, it went smoothly and painlessly.

She stood like a doll as he smoothed a washcloth over her. When the washcloth cleaned her between her legs, a wave of heat pulsed through her, so strong she forgot to be embarrassed.

But beyond that, it was a gesture of caring. He’d fed her, loved her senseless and now was washing her. It was almost more intimate than the non-sex sex they’d had on the bed. Strangers can have sex without feelings. But you can’t gently wash someone without emotions being there. Sex was one thing. This level of caring was another.

She bent her head down curiously to watch as he gently peeled away the bandage. What had been a terrible slash was now a thin line with tiny black stitches. “Doesn’t look so bad,” she said.

Metal was very carefully washing it with an antiseptic solution and applying an antibiotic cream. “No, you’re healing really well.”

She met his eyes. “I had really good care.”

He nodded. “That you did.”

“About the clinic,” she said and Metal tensed. “I don’t remember the whole thing very clearly but I got the impression that it was an…unorthodox clinic. Am I right?”

“Hmm,” he said, body language wary.

“Well, I’m all for unorthodox particularly when it’s in a good cause. Do you think that later I could make a donation? I accepted a contract from a company that’s keeping the Midwest fat. Do you think your doctor friend would mind if I donated the proceeds of that contract to the clinic? I’d be grateful and it would make me feel a whole lot better.”

Sean relaxed. He applied fresh sterile gauze and was taping the edges. This strip of gauze was much smaller and she didn’t feel like The Mummy so much anymore.

“I think he’d really appreciate that. As a matter of fact—”

His cell, which he kept with him at all times and was on the bathroom counter, played the refrain of “Don’t Stop Believing
.
” “That’s HQ. Probably calling us in.”

Yes. Good timing too. Felicity felt worlds away from the wounded woman who’d stumbled into Lauren’s home, bleeding and exhausted. The wound was healing quickly. It didn’t hurt at all. She was rested and had eaten well. Better, actually, than when she was at home.

Just surviving had taken all her strength but now? Now she was ready to fight back. Go on the offensive. Darin DNA was courageous DNA. Her father had managed to escape from a totalitarian government. She was not going to play the victim.

She wasn’t a warrior like Metal. But she was smart.

“Yes,” she said. “Take the call and let’s go.”

Chapter Nine

Metal answered his cell with one hand while holding on to Felicity’s waist with the other.

“Metal.”
Midnight.

“Sir.”

“Come in to HQ. We have airport footage.” Metal felt a savage rush of pleasure course through his system. Footage. Footage meant a visual. A visual meant step one in catching the fucker who’d hurt Felicity.

“There in twenty, sir.”

“Wait.” He heard what sounded like a growl at the other end of the line. “It’s snowing, Metal. I want you and Ms. Ward there in one piece. There’s no ticking bomb on this. Drive like someone normal.”

“Normal?” Metal asked philosophically. “What’s normal? Psychologists say—” but he was talking to air. Midnight had hung up.

“So what’s up?” she asked, picking out an outfit from the clothes Lauren had brought over.

Metal watched with sorrow as Felicity dressed, covering up that lovely body. But they had to go out and she had to be dressed to do that. He observed her carefully as he helped her put on a turquoise sweater and black pants. Her movements were smooth and seemed pain-free.

Lauren had packed several changes of clothes in the suitcase. The two were more or less the same size, except Felicity was perhaps two inches taller. The clothes fit. She looked like a million dollars.

Even better, she dressed without wincing once.

“Okay, like I said, we’re going into my company’s headquarters. My bosses will be there and I think Jacko will be there too. We’ve got that footage from the airport—legally—and we’re hoping you can pick the guy out.”

“There will be hospital footage too,” she said, pulling all that long, lovely blond hair up in a ponytail. She looked like a college student just out of high school. Fresh and bright and shiny. And determined.

Miles away from the wounded, panicked woman who’d fallen through Lauren’s door three days ago.

She looked so beautiful. So smart and determined. This was a woman worth saving. Worth protecting. Nobody would ever hurt her again. He was a warrior and he worked for a company of warriors. Together with his team at ASI they were going to find this guy, figure out what he wanted and either waste him or hand him over to the cops.

Metal would rather just waste the fuck, but Bud might not approve.

“I don’t know if they’ve got the hospital footage yet. We’ll go with what we’ve got and start to track this fu—this guy down.”

She gave him a funny look then put on the coat Lauren had brought over. Her own coat was bloody and torn. Metal frowned. The coat was pretty but looked thin. And he didn’t have anything that wouldn’t float on her. “You going to be okay with that coat? Doesn’t look to warm to me. It’s snowing outside.”

She smiled. “I’m 100 percent Russian. Snow is my natural habitat. I’d die in Texas or Florida.”

Well, maybe. But Metal reached into the hall closet and pulled out a long black scarf, sniffing it surreptitiously. It passed the sniff test so he wrapped it around her neck about ten times then tied the ends together. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and kissed her on the nose. “You look fabulous.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She scrunched her nose up at him. “I’m not sure I can move. I feel like Iron Man in his suit.”

Metal frowned at her. Something was missing. “Gloves! God, I hope Lauren included gloves in her care package.” He rummaged around and found a pair of cashmere-lined black leather gloves. Bless Lauren. “None of my gloves would even remotely fit you.”

He put them on Felicity himself and it pleased him on some deep and complicated level that he was making sure she would be warm and comfortable on their way to finding and wasting the fuckhead who’d attacked her.

But she needed to be not just warm and comfortable—she needed to be unrecognizable.

He dressed for the outdoors then grabbed her by the shoulders. She realized this was serious by the expression on his face. “Metal?”

“This is the way it’s going to work.” He pulled a fold of the scarf up over her mouth and nose and pulled on a black wool watch cap, completely covering her hair and pulling it down to her eyebrows. He grunted with satisfaction. Only her eyes showed. Then he put a pair of his winter goggles on her. Nothing of her face or body was identifiable. Even a full face photograph wouldn’t help anyone in identifying her. “From the moment you step outside my house until we’re inside my headquarters, you’re going to have the scarf around your lower face, the watch cap pulled down over your forehead and you’re going to wear those goggles. It’s going to be uncomfortable in my SUV. Are you okay with that?”

Her gaze was steady. “Of course.”

His heart swelled. His scarf was itchy and though it passed the sniff test it sure didn’t smell like roses. Ditto the watch cap. She was going to be uncomfortable the entire way but she wasn’t complaining in any way. Good girl.

“Jacko’s more paranoid than I am. He’s got this film he found on the internet and he coated the windows of his vehicle with it. It’s perfectly transparent to the naked eye from inside the vehicle. From the outside looking in, you look a little indistinct. But the great thing is that the windows are impenetrable to cameras. I have no idea how it works but I do know it works.”

“Probably the film induces pixilation,” Felicity said. “Pretty neat.”

“Well, that film is going onto the windows of my SUV and the house as soon as I can manage it. In the meantime—” he pointed his finger at his scarf and the cap, “¾you’re going to have to make with the improvised burka. Sorry.”

“It’s in a good cause.” She took his hand and his heart swelled again. She shouldered her laptop backpack and turned to the door. “Let’s go.”

*

Felicity had no idea what to expect on reaching Alpha Security International, where Metal and Jacko worked. She knew it was a security company, of course. The Security in the title was clear. They declared up-front exactly what they were. Totally unlike most IT companies that made a point of hiding what they did in the title. They had fun muddying the waters, calling their company Xanadoo or Purple Hat or EonWonk.

She had an idea of what a security company did, of course. God knows she’d been around enough U.S. Marshals and FBI agents.

Security companies provided security and the people who worked there were no-nonsense people and she imagined they worked in no-nonsense surroundings.

Boy, was she wrong about ASI.

When Metal drove them through gates set in eight-foot concrete walls in what looked like a rough part of town she was expecting industrial flooring and the smell of sweat and leather. Not that different from a start-up IT company. Maybe without the lollipops in big glass jars, skateboards and Foosball. These would be serious adults, after all.

Metal himself had undergone a metamorphosis from really nice super sexy teddy bear to badass Captain America the instant they walked out his door. Some kind of switch in his head had flipped and he was like a robot that had three hundred sixty degree situational awareness and was absolutely ready for anything. She’d watched without saying anything while he put on a shoulder holster under his parka. Driving, he constantly checked rearview mirror, sideview mirrors and out both windows in a regular pattern. It would have been absolutely impossible for anyone to take them by surprise. He was silent as they drove, which didn’t surprise her. It was snowing and if she drove in this kind of weather while watching out for bad guys she’d be in a nervous sweat.

Metal relaxed marginally once they were inside what turned out to be a compound.

As soon as the gates rolled back together behind them, and Metal helped her down from his vehicle which wouldn’t have been out of place patrolling in Iraq during the war, they entered coolly elegant and perfumed premises, about a billion miles from what she’d been expecting.

They entered a long corridor with terracotta tiling and terracotta sconces, lined with huge enameled planters full of thriving ferns interspersed with lemon trees. As someone with a black thumb, Felicity appreciated what it took to keep plants alive. A lot.

There were several doors along the corridor but Metal went straight for the central door on the left-hand side.

A discreet brass plaque was to the right with ASI in black italics. Metal didn’t knock or do anything. The door slid open of its own accord as soon as they were close, which was pretty neat. Had they simply been following the video cameras from inside or was it a facial recognition program?

She was running through what kind of software would be necessary for a facial recognition program for a company that had a wide clientele when she stepped through and barely stopped from gasping.

The lobby looked like a movie set for a sci-fi film,
Minority Report
maybe. Deep earth tones with neutral accents, dark wood and brass, a smooth flow to the furniture, so that it took a moment to realize this was business premises. The actual reception area was such an integral part of the look that she started when someone behind a space-age desk stood. It was a young guy, very fit, friendly looking.

“Hey, Metal,” he said, “both bosses are waiting in the main office.” He nodded at her. “Ma’am.”

“Great, thanks, Ron.” Metal had his hand at her back and escorted her through three sets of glass doors then stood for an instant in front of a big smooth wooden door with no insignia until it, too, slid open.

The main office was vast and that amazing decor continued here, too, though the look had been melded with utility. High-end monitors everywhere and the familiar ozoney smell of electronics. The room was colder than the rest of the building. Of course. There must have been at least three hundred thousand dollars worth of electronics in that room and they had to be kept cool.

“Felicity!” Lauren jumped up from a chair in the immense room, ran to her and hugged her. “I’m so glad you see you looking so well! So I guess Metal’s been taking good care of you, huh?”

The tone was warm, caring, absolutely not suggestive but Felicity lit up like a stoplight at the memory of Metal’s tender loving care. Lauren held her shoulders and stepped back, eyes widening at Felicity’s megablush.

“Oh.” Lauren blinked. “Oh!” Her eyes rounded and her jaw dropped. She whirled to Jacko but he was busy conferring with two older guys. They both had “boss” stamped on their foreheads in invisible ink.

One handsome, one ugly, both scary-looking. Definitely guys you wanted on your side. Felicity hoped with all her heart that they
were
on her side. Jacko was on her side because of Lauren and Metal was definitely on her side because…well.

But these two?

Her heart was beating a little faster. These guys could help or not. She’d called in a bomb alert in a major airport and she’d stolen an ambulance. Who knew how they’d react to that?

Well, maybe she could soften them up with her thank-you gift.

“Honey.” Metal bent low and murmured in her ear, exerting a little pressure to the small of her back with his huge hand. He hadn’t stopped touching her since their arrival through the back entrance of his work premises. Even now, he stood so close behind her she could feel his body heat. Living reassurance.

Felicity would have thought that he would want to keep things discreet, for professional reasons, and was perfectly prepared to have him treat her like a stranger. But no. His entire body language proclaimed that they were a couple.

The two scary guys behind the two huge desks stood up and walked around to her. “John Huntington,” the good-looking scary guy said and shook her hand gently.

“Douglas Kowalski,” the ugly, scarred scary guy said and, alarmingly, held out his hand. Felicity looked at it for a second. It was huge, scarred like his face, raised veins on the back. She needed her hands for keyboarding. If he squeezed her hand it would take a month to get the hand back to normal.

But he, too, held her hand in a gentle grip for a few seconds then gave it back to her.

“Nice to meet you,” she said to both. They were really hard to read, not that she was an expert in male psychology. Or even female psychology, for that matter.

Still, most people either wore their emotions on their face or it was clear they were hiding something. Not Huntington and Kowalski. Their faces simply gave absolutely nothing away.

There was a silence that would have been awkward if anyone showed awkwardness, but no one did. Except for her. She was cringing inside.

“So, um.” She fidgeted, met Lauren’s eyes. Lauren gave her a sweet smile. Okay. “I, um, I understand that you have footage for me to go over. More than that, I, um, I understand, or rather Metal told me that, um, you guys are willing to help me.” Her voice went up, as if it was a question, even though Metal had made it clear that this wasn’t in doubt. The entire resources of his company, and apparently they were considerable, were going to be used to help her figure out why she’d been attacked and above all, to track the man down and bring him to justice. And it was all free of charge. She was a hacker and she often worked free, like all hackers, but more for the thrill of a new problem than anything else. This wasn’t a new problem, this was the oldest problem on earth. A woman in trouble.

“That’s right, Ms. Ward,” the ugly one—Douglas—said. “We’re here to help and we’re going to be Skyping with a close friend who works at the Portland PD. So why don’t you sit down and we can get started.”

She hoped with all her heart that the Portland PD guy didn’t want to slap handcuffs on her.

“I’d say I don’t know how to thank you—” She held up her hand when both John and Douglas opened their mouths. “But actually I do.”

Felicity handed John the thumb drive she pulled out of her pocket. He took it, looked it over curiously, handed it over to Douglas, who looked it over carefully too.

Felicity pointed to the drive. “That’s a little program I wrote.” Actually, it was a
great
program and worth a lot of money if she wanted to monetize it, which she didn’t. “Do you guys have an IT tech you trust? One who is really good?”

John nodded. “We outsource our IT. We use Rajiv Anand of XTY.”

That lobe in her head where geekhood reigned lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh great! He is really,
really
good. So…I just gave you a security program. Tell him I’ll buy him a vintage 1977 Pac-Man machine in pristine condition if he can break into it. If he can’t, then that program is yours. And your in-house computer security will be completely impenetrable.”