My Book Page 5

  “Evans.”

  The voice she’d spoken with earlier came on the line. “Mr. Evans. It’s Orla Karlsen.”

  The second of silence that followed had her praying she’d find the words to convince him to talk to her.

  “Well, I’ve stalked people before, but it’s the first time a lovely lady has stalked me. Care to tell me where you got this number?”

  Orla wasn’t going to reveal her source and avoided the question. “Our conversation was interrupted earlier.”

  “You’re a tenacious woman, I’ll give you that, but I’m a bit busy right now.”

  “And I’m busy finding the people who’ll be responsible for killing a shitload of innocents in our city.” There was a hesitation on the other end of the line, and Orla was damned if it was good or bad. “Come on, Evans. I just want to know who contacted you, how it went down, names. Anything that can help me.”

  She was met with silence, and she wondered if he’d ended the call. He was waiting for something, and she wasn’t ready to give it to him—the offer of a favor if he needed one. It was a dangerous promise and one she rarely bestowed as it could impact her life and job in the worst possible way.

  She was scrambling for another argument when the man finally spoke. “I’m not a morning person, but I fancy breakfast tomorrow. Bongo Room, Andersonville. Eight a.m.”

  He disconnected, and she didn’t know if she should curse or jump for joy at the small victory. She was grasping at straws, and Evans knew it. But if he’d invited her for breakfast, that meant he was willing to talk.

  It took more time than she expected to walk to where there was a constant flow of traffic. It was time to call an Uber or find a cab. Her luck held when she spotted two cabbies talking to each other near a 24-hour restaurant close to an intersection.

  It took some convincing for one of them to drive her home as they were both about to end their shifts, but some begging, and a promise that she’d pay them once they got her home, finally convinced one of the drivers to help her. The night had been crazy, and as her adrenaline faded, her system desperately needed to shut down.

  When the cab dropped her off in front of her building, Orla tipped him extra as a thank you.

  When she keyed herself into the secured lobby of her building, it was automatic to stop and check her mail. She pulled out the bunched-up pile of envelopes and leaflets, and something fell and hit the ceramic floor, landing with a metallic sound.

  She bent and picked up the keyring featuring a 50s-inspired pin-up girl with insane breasts. Shoving her bundle of mail back in the box, she frowned. It was a car key, and it definitely wasn’t hers. Had someone put it in her box by mistake?

  She could have left it for the concierge to take a look in the morning, but curiosity overtook her fatigue and common sense. The side door beside the elevators led to the parking lot downstairs. Orla wasn’t scared as the camera system had a clear view of every inch of the place, and the alarm was one of the best around. Calling for help if this was a prank would be easy.

  The place was partially lit with wavering neon lights and silence surrounded her. Somewhat reassured, she wandered around, trying to find the car that matched the key, but had no luck until she reached her parking spot. There was a car there, and as it wasn’t hers, it stopped her in her tracks. It was a stocky, outdated black car that had definitely seen better days with a tad less rust than hers had. What was all this about?

  “I thought you’d need a ride as good as your previous car. As it’s been blown to smithereens, I mean.”

  Orla jumped at the modulated voice and turned to see her car’s license plate thrown at her feet. Twisted and partly burnt, it was clear the explosion she’d heard had been her old heap. The electronically modified voice caused her heart to flip, and he appeared before her, leaning against one of the concrete pillars.

  The vigilante had changed from his black combat gear and was now sporting dark wash jeans and boots, with a dark blue hoodie over his head. His hood mostly kept his head in the shadows, but she could see something covering the upper part of his face, which left his jaw and mouth uncovered. He was a little more than twelve feet away, but she could see some golden whiskers on his chin, and his lips hinted at a smile.

  “How is your voice still changed without the mask covering your mouth?”

  He shrugged slightly. “Technology stuff. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

  “You bought me a car?”

  “It didn’t cost much, and as I’m responsible for destroying your car, I felt obligated to find you a replacement. The registration papers are in your name and are in the glove compartment. You’re good to go.

  She couldn’t decide how to react. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t buy herself a new car, especially an older car like this. “How were you able to do this so quickly? It’s been only a few hours.”

  “It’s not as if I’m giving you a Ferrari. That might have required a bit more time. And I’m sure you’d prefer to have a car for your breakfast date with Evans tomorrow morning instead of taking a cab. You seem to be the kind of woman who likes to be in control.”

  It was tempting to pull her hair in frustration at his words, but she took a deep breath. “You have to stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  His changed voice irritated her even more. “Spying on me, hacking into my phone, following me around, buying me a car. What are you trying to do?”

  He pushed himself away from the column, and she noticed once more how tall and built he was. And dangerous. He took a few steps in her direction, and seeing the black neoprene gloves on his hands, she shivered in fright. He looked ready to attack and strangle her before shoving her dead carcass into the trunk of her new car. Standing her ground had never been tougher.

  “I don’t think so. You’re making headway, and I want to be there all the way. It’s not a partnership, think of it more as close protection for you and fact gathering for me.” He took two more steps and stopped a foot from her. It was impossible not to take a step back. She couldn’t see his eyes, only a deep black space. She was a tall woman, but he was even taller, more imposing, and the energy coming from him was overwhelming. He smelled of gasoline, leather, and man. It was the same scent she had detected outside of Freckles’ place and later at the back of the building. He’d been there many times, lurking like a ghost.

  “You want to use me to kill whoever distributes the drug. I’m telling you now, I won’t be an accomplice to murder. I’m working with the police on this so they can arrest them. You think killing the manufactures will stop this insanity?”

  He took a step, then another as she retreated. It looked like a dance until her back hit a concrete column. Her body reacted, and she retrieved the blade she had hidden, but the vigilante didn’t hesitate. He moved closer until his chest pressed against the tip of the blade. “Dead bodies will make a statement to whoever is trying to sully this city. I won’t stand by and wait for the police to screw it up.”

  Slowly, his gloved hand rose and circled her wrist. At first, she thought he’d force her to release her weapon, but he only pushed her hand down a few inches. “If you use that blade on someone, make sure your strike counts. Unless it’s with force, the blade must slide under the breastplate and up, so you can reach the heart.”

  Orla knew she didn’t have it in her to kill the man who didn’t appear to be an immediate threat, and she lowered her blade. “You’re giving me lessons on how to kill?”

  Now she could clearly see his gorgeous smile. Enticing lips, bright teeth. When he leaned forward even more, her stomach clenched, a flare of arousal taking her by surprise. She was out of her mind lusting after a masked killer who concealed his identity and voice. It was crazy, but something buzzed in the air between them.

  “It’s a lesson in survival. Sometimes, you have to kill to keep breathing, and sometimes, a few must die for the greater good. You were a war reporter, haven’t you seen it? Desired it? One bullet to make i
t stop, so innocent people stop suffering?”

  Now her body wanted to lean forward as her mind debated the century-long question. “You’re twisting what’s right and wrong.”

  He was close now, his face level with hers. As it was impossible to lock eyes with his, hers went to his mouth. “Our world doesn’t have a definitive line dividing good and bad. I’m not a knight in shining armor or a hero. I’m not playing by the rules, and that includes you and your privacy, especially if it means keeping you and others safe.”

  It was her turn to lean forward. Partly to provoke him, and partly to satisfy her sudden need to get closer. “Keeping me safe until I’m no more use to you?”

  Having the upper hand on the stranger, even for a single second, was exhilarating, Orla didn’t realize her body had blindsided her until her lips crashed onto the stranger’s and she was caught in the most dangerous kiss of her life.

  Chapter Six

  How this situation had turned around so quickly, Sam had no fucking idea. His original intention was to tease and taunt, but not indulge, not even when his cock twitched each time she swayed her hips or drew closer.

  Now he was in overdrive as Orla kissed him. Although kiss was too tame a word for the raw and electrifying connection that exploded between them.

  Far from sex-starved, Sam wondered for a brief moment why this simple kiss had turned him into a horny teenager. What was happening between them was the worst idea ever, but instead of stepping back, Sam pushed her against the pillar, pressing his body against hers, and groaned. Without his combat gear, all the soft flesh and curves he’d imagined while having her on the back of his bike now aroused his body and hunger clawed at him.

  When her hands slid under his hoodie and t-shirt to reach his stomach, his control almost snapped. What kept him for losing it was his knowledge that Devin was watching the video feeds. If this turned into full-blown porn, Sam knew he’d get hell from the hacker. The rest of the team as well, if he opened his big mouth.

  That thought disappeared when Orla nipped at his bottom lip before sliding her tongue out to dance with his. He had to push her away against his desire and need.

  The overhead lights flickered once before turning off. Darkness now surrounded them, and they pulled apart. Sam searched the darkness for the threat until Devon’s irritated voice sounded in his ear.

  “I'm the one who shut off the lights. Cameras are down and I’m off to bleach my eyes, motherfucker.”

  “What’s going on?” Orla hadn’t moved, but he could see the sudden lack of light made her apprehensive. On the other hand, Sam still saw clearly. His mask had paper-thin electronic lenses that blended with the fabric and allowed him to see, whatever the light intensity.

  “The opportunity for you to leave, or to tell me to go, because if I stay, I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking you on the hood of your car.”

  Sam knew she couldn’t see him and was unaware he could discern her expression with his high-tech night vision. Breathless, Orla seemed to hesitate, but her answer made him gasp.

  The woman fell to her knees, working to unbutton his jeans then pulling them and his underwear down. No woman had ever been that wanton in sucking him off. Not before a good quantity of hard liquor and some heavy petting at least.

  In the pitch-black environment where he was the only one that could see, Sam saw her bite her lips before swirling the tip of her tongue over his engorged head. Her hand had a firm grip on him as she enjoyed him like an ice cream cone. When her mouth closed around him lightly sucking, he had to hold back a snarl. He didn’t have to endure her teasing for long when her mouth formed a perfect O, and she swallowed his entire length.

  His eyesight blurred when she started with a slow and steady suction from root to tip and back down again. Blood roared in his ears, and he couldn’t keep his gaze off her, she looked amazing in the shadows. Her eyes darted up a few times, but he knew she couldn’t see through the blackness that surrounded them. Still, she kept going, one of her hands caressing his thigh, making its way between his legs to cup his heavy sack.

  That touch elicited a groan and mixed with the voice modifier was a reminder of what and who he was. He’d never envisioned doing something like this while acting as the vigilante. It was both exhilarating and a reminder that it was a one-off and couldn’t happen again. And as that was the case, he’d thoroughly enjoy it.

  “Push your pants down; I want you to finger yourself while you’re sucking me.”

  Lust filled his voice, and he could hear his tone was deeper, more commanding thanks to the overlay of the modifier. He saw Orla shiver. She released him and continued to stroke him with one hand, as she followed his order and unbuttoned her pants, awkwardly pushing them to her knees, bringing her panties down with them. Still looking up even though she couldn’t see anything, she took his erection between her lips again, but Sam was focused on the hand that disappeared between her creamy thighs.

  A fiery tingle threatened to make him unload way too soon, but with clenched teeth, he rallied every single ounce of self-control he had until he got his impending release under control. Her mouth was magic, but what turned him on even more, was how her hand moved, and her hips responded as she masturbated. She moaned around his cock and Sam knew he fought a losing battle. Her hand sped up, and her eyes were now closed, he could tell she was lost in her own pleasure.

  Something inside him snapped when he realized he wanted to be the one to control her pleasure. That for a brief moment, all she’d be able to focus on was what he was doing to her.

  Without thinking, Sam pulled away, leaving her mouth empty, and hooked his hands under her arms to pull her up. He indulged in a kiss and slid a hand down to cup her ass. He cursed at his neoprene gloves and quickly pulled them off.

  Kneading her plump ass as they fought in a kiss, he felt Orla slide a hand between them and close her fingers around his cock, sliding it up and down his length. Sam was content to indulge a little more until he touched her and felt wetness sliding down the inside of her legs. That realization spurred him into action.

  He turned her, so her back was against his chest. He would have preferred to take her face to face, but with both their pants around their legs, it wasn’t possible. “Lean forward until your hands are against the column. And stay there.”

  He watched her hesitate and search the air in front of her until she felt the concrete against her fingers. Sam took the opportunity to reach into his pocket and retrieve the condom he carried—part wishful thinking and part order from Lance to never leave a physical trace on anyone. His cock was near to exploding, but he be damned if he’d leave any trace of himself on the nosy reporter, great ass or not.

  In this position, she was lying flat with her pert behind at his mercy, and he regretted not having the time to strip her completely naked and offer up to his wildest fantasies.

  His hands cupped her ass, and she jumped in surprise, which made him smile. Despite his need to impale her until they both screamed, he decided to explore the bounty before him. His palms caressed her lower back, and he raked his fingers down her backside and thighs, making her shiver. Her head was back like she was looking at him, although there was no possibility of her doing so. Maybe she was listening to what he was doing or might do? With a smile, Sam slapped her ass, hard. Her sudden yelp echoed the throbbing of his cock. Orla opened her mouth and Sam suspected she was about to curse him, but before she could utter a syllable, his fingers dipped into the wet warmth inside her sex. Instead of curse words, a moan passed her lips.

  Sam repeated his unexpected round of torture, the sting of a slap on her rump or lower on her thigh followed by the more languorous touch of his fingers on her delicate folds. Time and time again, he explored her quivering sheath, circling her wetness around her clit before halting the pleasure with another hard slap. He couldn’t see exact colors behind his mask, but he could feel the heated skin under his palm where he’d slapped her.

  Now, his blond god
dess was moving her hips in an unending dance, anticipating the slap, and impatient for what followed. He knew he was stroking the flame inside her, his cock pulsing on the brink of pain at being denied for so long.

  As breathless as she was, Sam took the opportunity for one last round of teasing to sheath himself. Once more slap and rub, and as Orla pushed back, her sex opening for his fingers, it was his thick cock that replaced them and slid into the oversaturated flesh until he was balls deep inside her.

  It was a bit clichéd to say the world stopped at that moment, but Sam became hyperaware of where he was. The morning was on its way, he was cock deep in the reporter in an underground garage where they could be interrupted at any moment, in his undercover persona, and he didn’t give a fricking fuck.

  There was no time for thinking, and he moved his hips; the moans of this woman were the only music he wanted to hear. That and the sound of slapping flesh echoing through the hollow cavern of concrete, the feel of her tightening around him, hot and slick. It was heaven.

  The time for teasing was over, and he ploughed inside her, changing his angle until the intensity of her moans turned into barely contained screams, and babbled requests for him to go harder.

  There was no way in hell he’d be able to keep this up much longer. He wouldn’t stop until she was a complete mess of twitching muscles though, with pleasure short-circuiting her nervous system, and her juices dampening the length of her gorgeous legs.

  The smell of her arousal overpowered those of tires and oil, and Sam reveled in her passion. Orla gyrated her hips, a signal she needed more to stumble over the edge, but with her arms maintaining her balance, it was impossible to do it herself. Sam took pity on her and circled her waist until he cupped her flowering sex in his hand and squeezed. Immediately, her core retaliated by tightening even more. Sam was on the verge of losing his mind and everything else.