She needed to focus. She had this theory about what happened—
But the memory of the feel of his mouth on her breasts kept intruding. It was like tunnel vision, every part of her zeroing in on how it’d felt as his tongue tortured her nipples, his teeth nibbling the soft flesh around them. It’d been incredibly erotic to just lie there in the dark, unable to fight the waves of pleasure that pulsed through her, unable to see the face of her lover, as his hands and mouth explored her, giving her what her body was craving.
Helen could hear her own breathing becoming agitated. She shook her head, uselessly attempting to shut the images out, but it was difficult when her body appeared to be responding to the stimulus. Her eyes widened at the sight of her nipples straining against her shirt. Touching them with a fingertip, she gasped at their sensitivity. Pebble-hard.
She took in a long breath. Her cotton shirt scraped her skin gently as she exhaled loudly. Just as before, the more she fought, the more her body and mind demanded release. And becausehe’dplanted that sexual trigger in her head, of course her brain was using thoughts of him to feed what her body was craving.
Sexual trigger. Chemistry. That and what happened at the stairwell. These were all somehow linked. If only she could stop getting distracted and overwhelmed by all these feelings...
Abruptly, she leaned forward and tapped at the keyboard, hooking into the COMCEN database and opening the program that had created the virtual reality avatar. She pulled up the original model she’d worked on, the one that became the avatar, and stared athimin all his naked glory.
So obvious. He’d guessed correctly that she would put in a fantasy man. Easier to bond with, right? With their brainwaves in sync and the controls at his end, her mind was ready for his stimulation. How thehell did she miss that happening to her? She’d been trained to catch these little things and he’d outwitted her. He’d even called himself Hades, the ultimate seducer to the dark side, and had played the part to her captive Persephone to perfection.
“It’s always the obvious.” Helen scowled, wagging her finger at the image of the blond man on the screen. She wanted to yell at someone right now but her damn trainer was a digital avatar, a naked male with the sculpted and perfect body, the kind she made up in her fantasies. Her scowl deepened. “I haven’t had a serious relationship while I’ve been training. Two freaking years. No time. What did I do? Created a fantasy man and gave him the vehicle to seduce me. Brilliant move, Helen, just brilliant.”
She’d thought it was hilarious fun to walk around in virtual reality with a deliciously sexy naked man. Why not? What could be more ridiculous than her remote viewing with a man resembling a Greek god?
She sighed, resting her chin on her hand as she kept staring at the perfect body in the screen. “Well, they don’t call me Hell for nothing. Of course I have to up the ridiculous factor,” she murmured. “I now get horny when my avatar wants me to.”
If she weren’t so pissed, she would laugh at the analysis. Something had happened to her during the mission. The serum she’d taken had an unexpected side effect. She needed to go over what happened as objectively as possible.
“From insensitive to pain to super-sensitive to touch,” she muttered. Try super-super-super sensitive. She had avoided contact with anyone, managing to fall asleep finally, but somehow, in her sleep, connected to his brainwaves, she had invaded Hades’ dream or vice-versa.
She shook her head. Didn’t matter now. Whatever happened, he’d woken up knowing exactly what she was going through and had come for her. Super-super-super sensitive became super-super-super sensual. Helen shook her head harder. Objectivity-smojectivity.
“It’s just sex,” she told herself.
Yeah. With her avatar, her fantasy man. Only he’d come in human form that night, finally appearing to her in darkness. And boy, he didn’t diminish her fantasy one bit with his sexual repertoire. The man knew how to touch a woman.
She reached out for the computer mouse. There was something wrong with her fantasy avatar. She just knew the reality looked nothing like this blond god she’d created. Her mind wandered idly as she clicked her mouse, moving the cursor around. Dark hair. Eyes? Dark? Black? Leaner body?
His hands. She didn’t want to think of his hands, but that was what connected her to him physically. She could remember his touch—every intimate detail. He had very powerful hands; he’d shifted her body on her bed effortlessly. And talented lips and tongue. She remembered those too well.
He’d explored her in the darkness, using first his hands, then his mouth. While rubbing some kind of lotion on her injury, he’d wickedly lavished it elsewhere, using it to arouse her even more. She had almost died from pleasure when he’d settled his mouth into her heat, leisurely licking her aching need for what seemed like hours, while he massaged and caressed her body. Sensitized beyond reason, she’d finally given in to his silent persuasion, responding eagerly to his touch.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she’d panted out repeatedly, needing and wanting, uncaring about her loss of control. He’d been quite obliging in addressing her demands. Several times.
Helen licked her lips, feeling flushed again. That edgy feeling inside was growing exponentially. She shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She closed her eyes. She desperately wanted his hands on her again, virtual or not, but he was on a mission, on a ship heading toward Russia...
“Hades,” she whispered.
Water. She smelled the sea, felt the swaying motion under her. Her jaw dropped as realization dawned. She was remote viewing. How was it possible when she hadn’t modulated her brainwaves yet? She didn’t even feel her phantom form shoot through the ether, like she usually did while pinpointing the location.
She turned, taking in the odd-shaped walls and low ceiling. The smell of the ocean. She had a nasty suspicion about her location. There were sounds coming from the other side of the wall. Her heart thudded with anticipation as she moved toward the noise. Fighting. She cocked her head. Very intense fighting. She peered around the corner and immediately felt ridiculous. No one could see her while she was remote viewing; there was no need to be sneaky about looking.
But instinct told her there was danger for her here and she wasn’t going to ignore it, especially when she’d traversed unexpectedly, without preparation. She had somehow sent herself to this place and she’d a feeling that something else was going to happen.
She saw a man lying on the floor. Dying. She felt the air thickening even as she looked harder, trying to make out the man’s face. A gurgle of pain escaped from him and then...nothing. She wanted to turn away from death, but felt compelled to keep looking. Where was the other fighter? She couldn’t see him.
The atmosphere felt oddly smoky, although she couldn’t smell any smoke. She could make out the outline of a man as he turned towardher. Even her vision got cloudy, and she blinked hard, trying to focus. Must. Try. To. See. She took a step forward. Hard to breathe, as if the air was very thick here.
All of a sudden, her heart started to beat erratically. Something was definitely wrong. But she so wanted to get closer, to see this man...
Okay, calm down, Hell. Step back. Step away.
At the last second, Helen turned and ran. She felt herself sinking, falling into oblivion, but not before she caught a glimpse of the other man.
Silver eyes. Blue jeans.
