it!”
Jed kept walking. He hadn’t planned on Elena getting up so soon. She was supposed to be resting. Usually, it took quiet time for the subconscious to absorb a hypnotic suggestion. Had he failed? It sometimes took a few sessions to embed successfully, but he’d thought he’d managed to lead Elena along to the right point.
He frowned. For selfish reasons he hadn’t exercised his usual patience with her. And that odd sensation which had told him when she was near—what was that? His frown deepened. He’d felt it earlier while on the ship too, but she wasn’t anywhere near that location.
He ignored the open curiosity from the others in the office area at the sight of them. No doubt the swelling on his face had something to do with it. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Elena packed quite a punch in her swing.
“I’m getting tired of going after you. Are you such a fucking coward,” she demanded, as she fell into step beside him, “that you won’t face me and answer my questions?”
His lips quirked. But he did want her to chase him around. He’d wanted her to keep thinking about him. “I thought we had an appointment, which you missed,” he reminded her. He had other things in mind besides talking, of course. “Now I have two more meetings today.”
“That was before...before what you did.” She grabbed his arm hard, then deliberately stepped in front of him, halting his progress toward the elevator. “I want to talk now.”
Her words told him a lot. First, that she knew and comprehended what had happened besides their sexual encounter. He wasn’t surprised she’d caught on because she was a strong woman mentally—one of the strongest he’d met, actually—and had continually resisted him.
It wasn’t until the breakthrough with the brain entrainment machine, when she’d somehow entered his dreams, that he’d found a chink in her armor. He would use that subconscious desire to seek him out even in her sleep against her. It was new territory for a jaded operative like him. Seduction had never been this intriguing. Now, he wondered whether he’d possibly not pushed hard enough. Sexual imprinting, after all, meant sexually bonding with a target repeatedly, and he had just started.
He almost smiled again. Not hard enough? The growing constriction in his pants reminded him how hard she’d gotten, and was now making, him.Without even trying.Damn, but he wanted her.
He moved to the side. She countered, blocking his path again.
He considered the idea of pushing her through one of the adjoining doors in the hallway and showing her exactly what he had in mind. Talk wasn’t the top priority. His session with her had left him hard and wanting, needing the real touch of her instead of all that virtual shit floating in his head. But his job had to come first.
Even now, standing inches away from him, the faint scent of her fragrance teased him with thoughts of using his tongue to find its source. He hadn’t been so easily aroused in a long time.
He studied her angry eyes. Some things one couldn’t find out in virtual reality—her eyes changed to a muted green when she was emotional. Would they change color when he was buried inside her?
That thought made him even more aroused. This sexual need for her. Maybe he’d mistakenly imprinted himself instead. His lips finally quirked with suppressed humor.
“It’s not funny!”
Her other hand reached up to shove him. At that moment the elevator door opened. Jed neatly caught the free hand, twisted his body sideways and pulled her along with him into the empty carriage. He pressed the floor he wanted and the doors slid shut. Noting that she wasn’t putting up much of a fight, he typed the code onto the pad, deactivating the micro-eye. He supposed he could test whether hishardwork paid off.
Her eyes widened when he moved her captured hand down to the bulge in front of his pants.
“Five minutes,” he said, then pressed forward, pushing her against the wall, holding her hand tightly as she reflexively cupped him. She gasped as he bit her neck. “Starting now. I’ll just show you your answers.”
He had to be quick, knock her off her feet before she realized what was happening. Her free hand slammed up against his chest in warning.
“What the hell are you—”
He easily unzipped her pants. He liked this latest style of low-riding hip huggers. Made access easy. Especially when the woman hadn’t bothered with panties.
He buried his face in her neck, ignoring the slight discomfort of his bruised face, and used his weight to trap her. He was counting on her still having that strange sexual sensitivity she’d somehow gotten from the use of the serum. Two years’ worth of imbalance for him to take advantage of.
“Stop it,” she whispered, the tone of her voice hushed and urgent.
“Make me,” he challenged.
But she was already wet and ready, her body limp and willing, allowing him to easily knee her legs further apart. His fingers fit tightly inside those hip huggers. He slid them downward. Then up. She let out a familiar throaty sound. There. Found the right spot.
“Wherever I want. However I please,” he whispered. She gasped, her hand no longer pushing him away. That was a good sign. “Isn’t this what you’re after?”
“No...!”
“So why aren’t you stopping me? Admit it. You want this more than you want to beat me up.”
“I want to see the real Hades. Then I’ll beat you up.”
