Ocean Kills (Ocean Breeze) (25 page)

Before I could worry, Callan dropped me. I sailed through the air and hissed as my back connected with his sofa. Ow, that hurt. But I liked that he was so far gone he forgot to be gentle with me. Forgot I was injured and handled me with rough lust. It fanned the flames of need, subduing my pain. He pressed on top of me.

Fingers, in their rush, ripped my delicate knickers, and they hung on my hip in tatters. He smiled against my mouth. “Oops.”

“I'll buy another pair with the money you owe me,” I panted. After I paid Clark—I always paid my debts.

He chuckled, then growled as one long finger disappeared in my heat. “God, you're wet.”

Just hearing him say that almost made me lose it. My back arched; all reasoning shot out of my head. Holy sex on fire, his finger felt amazing. Slow and firm, curving and stroking. He pushed another finger deep. I bit his shoulder, my hands scrabbling at his back.

I had to have him. Now.

I reached and squeezed his erection. With my other hand, I pushed his boxers down his butt, enjoying how he clenched under my touch. He didn't stop touching or kissing me, so I had no way of getting the boxers down further than his thighs. It was enough.

“Now,” I demanded.

“I don't have anything—” he panted in my ear. His fingers thrusting into me were so distracting I struggled to understand.

“Anything?”
What is he waiting for?

“Protection, condom. I don't have anything. I wasn't prepared for—” He laughed, shaking his frame, causing unique sensations with his fingers inside me. “I wasn't expecting to come home and find you sulking in my apartment.”

My mind raced. I couldn't get pregnant. I'd been on the pill since my period began at fourteen. I had no intention of being knocked up, and I knew I was clean. I was paranoid in that respect.

“Are you safe?” My skin blazed as he kissed my neck. He cupped my core to grind the heel of his palm into me. Shit.

“Yes. I don't sleep around.”

That was enough. I could deal with the consequences later. If a friend did this, I’d tell her she was nuts and to stop immediately, but I wanted him. And by God, I'd have him.

“Take me then.”

His eyes grew wide, a mixture of disbelief and animal lust on his face. “You sure? Um, what about—? I—I think we should…”

“I’m on the pill. You can’t stop. I need you.” I pumped his erection, working him so his eyes snapped closed. He shuddered in my grasp.

While he was distracted, I wiggled so I was directly below him. Guiding him with my hand, I pushed his tip into me.

His eyes flew open and he cursed, “Fuck!” He pushed with one sharp thrust into my heat.

I cried out. My skin enveloped him, sucking him deeper till there was no space between us.

Callan froze as I moved my hips. He felt so
good.
So thick, so long, so mind-shatteringly good. My entire being was full, every nerve ending sparking. Frustration built. I needed a release. Why wasn't he moving?

I scratched his back, bit his ear, and yet he stayed frozen. His biceps defined as he clutched the cushion behind my head.

I leaned up and raked my nails down his chest, nipping at his neck. “Move, Officer Bliss.”

He gave a half-chuckle, half-choke. “I told you not to call me that. And I can't. I'm on the edge as it is.” His hand stilled my hips, stopping me.

My core screamed for release. This wasn't fair. He promised me something he couldn't deliver. I wanted to cry with frustration.

With a frown, his eyes tightly closed, Callan pressed his hips into me. Once. Twice. My vision glazed over.
Yes.
Something built incredibly fast—hard and needy in my belly.
Yes.

He stopped, groaning.

No, don't do this to me
. “Don't stop.” I bit his ear, grabbing his butt, sinking my nails into his flesh.

He cursed and lost control. He thrust into me, pressing me deep into the sofa. The building grew hot, assaulted me, teased me. With each stroke, I panted faster and faster. I was so focused on where we joined, his lips on my neck, hands on my breasts.

The release began with a pleasure-pain I never experienced before. Building, building. Seeping energy from my cells and centering them in one part of me that screamed with feeling.

Callan grunted, increasing his rhythm. Skin slapped against skin.

That was it.

I screamed and shattered around him. I was delirious with sharp spasms, swept away by passion and didn't notice the splitting headache and nausea before it was too late.

I teleported just as Callan came.

Chapter Twenty-three: Callan

F
uck, she was amazing. Liquid heat around me, her wild scent intoxicating. Ocean rode me as wild as I could've ever fantasized. My eyes snapped shut as my orgasm ripped through me, more demanding and fiercer than ever before. My entire body froze with exquisite sensation, quivering with convulsions.

Then, a rush of wind and a tug in my stomach, as if gravity wanted to dump me off the couch. Next thing I knew I was grinding into a cushion. Ocean disappeared from beneath me, leaving nothing but my heavy breathing and total disbelief that she'd gone.

She left!

What the fuck?

She took her pleasure and left. Leaving me to jerk off like a hormone-raged teenager into a pillow. And I had unprotected sex with her! All my common sense was in the garbage. What was I thinking? She was too delectable, too tempting for me to stop. 

Panting hard, I swung my legs around and sat up, wrenching my boxers back into position. What happened? Where did she go?

My heart raced—the rush of being with her roared in my blood. Her scent was in my nose, her taste in my mouth. Her heat rapidly dissolved from around my cock.

Shit. Shit.
Shit!

Groaning, I swiped hair from my sweaty forehead. My eyes snapped open as horror replaced my anger. She disappeared while naked, her back bleeding. Surely it wasn't good to teleport with no clothes and while injured? I didn't know the rules, but that couldn't be normal practice. Was it her orgasm that shot her from my arms and into oblivion?
Shit!

I'd had her here. Writhing beneath me, hotter and wilder than any dream I could've conjured, and now I was alone again. Left with only a memory—a thirst for something I tasted for a brief moment.

I was wretched. Utterly addicted to the violent passion of Ocean Breeze.

Flashbacks of kissing her in my kitchen made me bolt from the sofa and pace. Her back was in shreds, but those strange marks freaked me out. Maurice’s emails mentioned black blemishes. Were those what he spoke of? It looked as if someone had splashed her with dirty motor oil—shiny, irregular. Ocean lied. They weren’t tattoos. I knew because I had a tattoo on my left shin—an image of my broken femur when I was a kid. It looked as if my leg was an x-ray of splintered bone, and the ink didn’t look anything like Ocean’s. 

Christ, she was going to kill me. Bloody woman. How could I find her?

Pacing furiously, I glared at my laptop. There was no program I could use to track her. No magical code to bring her back. She was gone.

The entry buzzer shattered my thoughts. I looked at the microwave; the flashing digits showed it was almost 11:00 p.m. Could it be her?

I skidded to a stop in front of the intercom. “Yes?” My heart raced a million beats per minute.

“Delivery for Callan Bliss, apartment 8D.”

It took a moment for me to realize it was a guy on the other end, not Ocean. Where the hell was she? It didn’t occur to me that it was a weird time for a delivery. Unprotected sex with a woman who disappeared from under me, ran on repeat in my thoughts.  

“That's me. Come on up.” I pressed the button and ran hands through my hair.
Crap, I’m in my boxers.
Dashing into the kitchen, I wrenched on my jeans. Seconds later, there was a knock on my door.

I opened it to find a man with a trolley holding a tower of items. “Sign here, please.” He passed me an electronic pad. I scribbled something illegible. “Where do ya want them?”

 He had four large boxes stacked on top of one another. I didn't need to guess who they were from.

“Um, just put them there.” I moved out of the way, letting the guy transfer the parcels from his trolley to my floor. “Cheers.”

The instant the door was closed, the buzzer went again. Crap, it was business central tonight. “Yes?”

“Delivery for Callan Bliss. Special order.”

“Bring it up.” I opened my door in preparation. A scrawny guy appeared with a locked briefcase under his arm.

He grinned. “I’m super jealous of you, mate. I’d sell my mother to get my hands on this sucker.”

I didn’t have a clue what he was on about. I signed for the package. “Thanks.” The guy lingered. “Um, anything else?”

“Can I watch you open it?”

My eyes went wide. What the hell was in the briefcase? “Sure, I guess.” I opened the door wider and moved to the kitchen. The delivery man followed.

“The code on the case is 0000. You’ll need to change it,” the guy said, eyes glued to the parcel.

I nodded, opening the lid. Inside, snuggled in molded plastic, was a gun. It was a mighty fine gun, too.

“It’s top of the line. A
Walther P99.”
The guy couldn’t help himself. “
It’s a
 
short recoil
-operated locked breech
 
semi-automatic pistol
. Wh
oever sent this had it modified for additional add-ons such as laser-sight, silencer, and gyroscope.”

“Do you drop off dangerous things like this often?” My fingers trailed over the glossy gun and shiny bullets wedged in plastic. Crap, this thing looked lethal, and ten times hotter than my standard Glock from the Sydney police.

“Nope. We’re an ask-no-questions type of delivery service. But I saw what was in there with our x-ray machine.” He slapped me on the back and headed for the door. “Really appreciate you letting me see it. See ya.”

The door shut and I eyed up my new weapon. The KCIA sure knew how to arm their agents. After re-locking the case, I grabbed a kitchen knife and hacked through the tape on the four boxes.

Inside were two large computer screens, a modem, a top-of-the-line-processor, a sleek laptop, and a wireless decoder.

I picked up the laptop. On the bottom of the keyboard was a glass panel with tiny words:
SCAN HERE.

I frowned at the wound on the underside of my forearm. The thing Kim injected into me should activate the server and allow me to access their information. Invasive but effective. If someone wanted to hack the KCIA, they’d either have to kidnap me or butcher my arm for the chip. Bloody awesome.

On top of the processor was another red file. I reached for it, only to have my mobile ring.

Did Ocean have my cell number? I should've given it to her. How else could she tell me where she went? I ignored the thought that she vanished on purpose. That hurt too much.

“Callan speaking.”

“You get Christmas early. You like?” Mr. Kim's signature chuckle came down the line. Tension knotted my shoulders. I wanted to enjoy this, to be excited what my future held, but all I could do was worry about Ocean.

“Callan?”

“Yes, sorry. The computers and gun are awesome. Thanks very much.”

“No thank me. You part of company now. You need best of best equipment.” Mr. Kim paused; a loud beeping noise sounded in the background. “I have secret question for you.”

The way he said it made my hackles shoot skyward. “What secret question?”

“You with lady just now, yes?”

What the fuck?
“You have cameras in my apartment?”

Kim rushed, “No. Not camera. Body heat technology. I only see you as red blob. There were two red blobs, then—”

Every muscle in my body wanted to attack something. They had fucking heat sensors hidden in my apartment! That was not cool. Completely over the line. “Remove whatever crap you've hidden or I'm through. I refuse to be spied on, got it?”

“Yes. Yes. We remove. But I ask secret question first?”

What did he see? Ocean was there—then she wasn't. I could blame it on faulty technology. “What is it? Hurry up.”

“The sensor saw burst of heat—radioactive almost, and then bye, bye. Disappear. Where the lady go?”

Shit
. “That's none of your business, Kim.”

More beeping in the background. Kim replied, “I think you find it is my business. She not the only one.”

Chapter Twenty-four: Ocean