No Control - Page 31/48

Lana pressed her palms to his bare chest and leaned down to kiss him. He didn’t move. Didn’t reach for her, didn’t urge her on in any way. His lips were firm and hot beneath hers, and she ran her tongue along the seam, asking him wordlessly to open for her. When he finaly did, Lana sucked his lower lip into her mouth.

Caleb finaly responded. He took hold of her head, angled it slightly, and swept his tongue into her mouth. Lana’s recently sated body flared back to life and returned the kiss with open abandon.

This was what she wanted, what she needed—this human connection that drove away everything but the quest for pleasure. He drove away the darkness and set her body ablaze, leaving no room for worry or doubt or fear. Her whole world colapsed down to the space between them, the brush of his hair over her nipples, the slick warmth of his mouth, the rough caress of his calused fingers over her skin. Nothing else mattered.

Her fingers grazed his shoulders, moving down, kneading the thick slabs of muscle over his chest. Caleb made deep, rough sounds that could only be taken as masculine satisfaction, but Lana wasn’t done with him yet. Not even close.

She lifted her body and wrapped her fingers around his erection, just like she had before. And just like before, Caleb let out a slow hiss of pleasure that made her feel like a goddess. Her touch had done that. She’d made him feel good. And she was about to make him feel much better.

Lana positioned him and pressed her body down against the tip of his erection. The blunt thickness sent zingers of electricity racing along her nerves until they ended right where they’d begun. He was big, but she was wet and ready for him. Man, was she ready.

His hands wrapped around her hips, and his fingers opened and closed almost involuntarily, pressing into her flesh. She managed to sink down a couple inches, feeling her body stretching to take him. It didn’t hurt, but it was . . . intense. He took her breath away.

She moved back up, descended again, this time farther than before. Caleb’s hands tightened, and Lana felt her body spiraling upward toward another climax. He wasn’t even fuly inside her yet and she was already fighting off the need to come.

A few more slow, torturous movements of her hips and she had taken as much of him as she could. She was filed up, stretched, her body vibrating with pleasure.

Caleb gave her a fierce smile. “I wasn’t sure I’d fit inside that tight little body of yours,” he told her.

“Perfect fit.”

Caleb did something that made his erection twitch inside her and Lana felt her world tilt.

“If you don’t move, I’m going to have to move you,” he said.

Lana braced her hands on his ribs and lifted her body, then slid right back down. Moving was nearly more than she could stand, and it left her feeling weak and boneless.

Caleb came to her rescue and lifted her up with a strong grip of his hands on her hips.

He slid out of her only to fil her again. Lana was dying. The pressure inside her was too much so soon after he’d given her the best orgasms of her life. But Caleb didn’t relent. He lifted and lowered her over and over while his strong hips worked beneath her. She heard his breathing speed, felt the way his skin heated and his hands were hot against her hips. Lana steadied herself, kept her balance, but that was al she could manage. He’d driven the strength right out of her, and she was just along for the ride. And ride she did, until her head was spinning and her body was vibrating so hard she thought she’d shatter.

She leaned forward, and the angle caused his penis to press against something magical inside her. Raw feeling expanded through her body, radiating out from where his erection filed her. Her mind shut down, and she let the pleasure wash over her, giving in to the need to cry out. She didn’t care if anyone heard—al she cared about was living inside that shimmering pleasure as long as she could, surrendering to it with shameless abandon.

The jolts of feeling subsided after endless moments, and just outside her orgasmic haze, she heard Caleb let loose a raw cry of his own. She felt him swel and throb inside her, stretching her farther as he came. It was perfection, feeling his pleasure inside her. Sweet, potent perfection.

Lana toppled down onto his chest, enjoying the remnants of her orgasm, the faint buzz of her limbs, and the internal spasms that lingered. Caleb’s arms wrapped around her and his wide hands stroked down her back. His hands were shaking.

She pressed her cheek over his heart and let his deep breathing lul and calm her. He didn’t bother with pilow talk, and she was grateful for the silence. Words would only make reality intrude and ruin what had been the best sex of her life. His hands kept stroking and his heartbeat evened out. Lana closed her eyes and let herself drift.

For the first time in eighteen months, she slept without dreams.

Caleb smiled up at the ceiling. He could have ripped apart mountains with his bare hands if she’d asked him to. He felt like some sort of ancient god, powerful and immortal.

Lana had done that to him. He held her, reveling in the feeling. It had been more than just sex, at least for him. It was proof of her forgiveness, proof of her trust.

He wasn’t going to let her down.

He wasn’t above using sex as a tool to pry her secrets from her, but not because he was under orders. He didn’t give a damn about his orders compared to Lana. But he knew that as long as she held back, as long as she kept her problems secret from him, she’d be in danger. He couldn’t stand to let that continue. He’d find a way to get her to trust him enough to share her burden. And then he’d kil it. Whatever it was.

He stroked his fingers lightly over her back, just barely touching her. He stil couldn’t get over the way it felt like he was stroking sunshine. He figured he’d never get over it.

Caleb puled in a deep breath and let it out. Lana’s weight lifted atop him, but she didn’t move, and he wasn’t going to encourage her to. He liked her right there, al soft and replete, warm and satisfied. She was perfect just where she was.

Denny waited as long as he could for the older couple to leave. Didn’t they have jobs to go to? Grandkids to see? Something—anything—to make them leave before it was too late?

He checked his watch again. He only had fifteen minutes left before the job had to be done. The stench of gasoline was making him sick, not to mention the thought of roasting Grandma and Grandpa alive.

Why the hel didn’t they leave?

The air in the garage was suffocating him. Not that there was much of it. The place was packed floor to ceiling with junk, which was why he’d chosen it to start the fire.

A pile of lumber. An old couch. Too many cans of paint. This place was going to go up like a torch.

Denny eyed the exit again, ten feet away. Al he had to do was light a match, drop it, and run. His car was a couple of blocks away—a short dash through overgrown back yards. No one would see him.

It would al be over soon.

Sour sweat slid into his eyes. He wiped it away with a shaking hand.

They were stil in the house, puttering around. He could hear the TV. The morning news was blaring.

Denny checked his watch again. Time was up. For al of them.

He sucked in a deep breath that burned his lungs, lit the match, and let it fal into the gasoline-soaked lumber. Flames roared up as they burned off the fumes in the air, then settled down to a nice hot glow.

Denny watched from the door just long enough to see he’d done his job, then took off at a dead run.

CHAPTER TWENTY

By the time Caleb and Lana puled into the First Light Foundation office, the four men Caleb had caled in to help were already waiting for them. He was glad to have the distraction from the thoughtful silence Lana had been giving him al morning.

She hadn’t been cold toward him, but neither had she thrown herself at him this morning when she’d woken up to find him stil in her bed. She’d blushed and headed for the shower, leaving him wishing he’d offered to soap her up and see where it took them. Like he didn’t know just what would happen if he got her back under that hot spray of water. He’d give a repeat performance of the first time, only this time he’d keep going until they were both too tired to stand.

Instead, he shoved his morning erection into an uncomfortable pair of jeans and pretended like she hadn’t spun his world off its axis last night. He’d give her time to digest what had passed between them and pray she didn’t think it had al been a mistake. He wasn’t sure he’d survive knowing he’d never get the chance to make her come again while he was so deep inside her he could feel her heartbeat.

With that thought in mind, he got out of the car and gave the man who had guarded Lana’s office last night the signal to go get some rest.

“Who are they?” asked Lana.

“Friends. Guys I’ve worked with before and know I can trust. Let’s go inside and I’l introduce you.”

Lana slung her backpack over one shoulder and eyed the men warily while Caleb clasped hands and gave his thanks to each man for coming.

They filed inside with the cheerful chime of bels tinkling in their wake. Al four of these men had worked with Caleb at one time or another, and besides being good in a bad situation, they had volunteered to take some time and help out with the carnival. He couldn’t have asked for a better group.

“Lana, I’d like you to meet my friends,” he told her, motioning to the first man. “This is Brent Colins.”

Brent was the youngest of the group and had a baby face that had fooled more than one bad guy. He looked like someone’s kid brother, with messy brown hair and a few freckles. He had a slim build that was a hel of a lot stronger than it looked, but it was his almost unnatural technical ability that had earned him a place in Delta Force.

“Good to meet you, Lana.” Brent shook her hand, giving her that boyish smile that Caleb knew would put her at ease.

“This is Jack Langston,” said Caleb, introducing the next in line. Jack was the kind of man you wouldn’t look at twice. He blended in wherever he went, as long as he was wearing dark glasses or contacts. He had the palest blue eyes Caleb had ever seen—almost silver—which caused him to keep his eyelids down as if to hide them. The effect was that he looked sleepy, which was a dangerous assumption to have about a man as deadly as Jack.

Jack said nothing, just nodded in acknowledgment, keeping his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wal.

Next in line was Riley. He stuck out his hand and gave Lana’s hand a warm shake—the kind presidential candidates use to win votes, with both hands—and a wide smile ful of straight white teeth. “Riley Seaton, ma’am. So glad we could come help you and the kids.”

Riley could have been a professional model had the urge struck him. He was drop-dead handsome, and Caleb felt himself tense as he waited for Lana to swoon or fal al over him like the women Riley met usualy did. Instead she just smiled, released his hand, and took a step back to Caleb’s side.

He felt a thril of satisfaction and pride at the simple action. He loved how she could do that—make him feel like he was invincible, the luckiest man on earth.

“And this is Madison Parker,” said Caleb. “We cal him Mad for short, ’cause it makes him so happy.”