Super Bad (a Superlovin' novella) (14 page)

“I’m not a virgin, if
that’s what you’re wondering. Haven’t been for years, okay? Judging by the fact
that your safe house keeps a stock of condoms in the bedside table, I’m
guessing you aren’t either. We’re good to go. So suit up and let’s get going.”

She wasn’t acting like
she was traumatized by her sexual past, but what the fuck did he know about how
victims acted? “Mirage, I don’t know if I can give you what you need.”

She arched a brow, a
wicked smile curving her lips. “I can feel that isn’t true.” She writhed her
hips until her core came into searing contact with his hard-on. He shuddered,
resting his forehead on top of their linked fingers, which brought him in range
of her mouth. She nipped his ear, then flicked the sting away with her tongue. “I
want this. You can hear I’m not lying.” The truth of her words had a direct
line to his dick, which grew impossibly harder. Her voice was a low, seductive
purr, rasping against his senses. “Just sex, Justice. It doesn’t have to mean
anything.”

That time he heard her
lie. Or maybe it was his own self-deception he heard. It wouldn’t be just sex. It
would never be just sex with Mirage. This wasn’t just simple chemistry,
scratching an itch. But he didn’t call her on the deceit. For once he made
himself believe the lie. He wanted her more than he wanted the truth.

* * * * * * * * * *

Mirage felt his capitulation
in the subtle relaxation of his shoulders a fraction of a second before his
mouth came down on hers. Before, he had accepted her kiss, played along, but
now he was in command, demanding every ounce of her soul as he poured himself
into each caress.

He was in complete
control and
damn
if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever. Clothing
vanished. She was aware of breaking the kiss just long enough for him to yank
her nightshirt over her head and canting her hips up so he could slide her
panties down, but as far as she was concerned, his pants might as well have
disappeared by teleportation. She couldn’t spare a thought for logistics as his
mouth went straight for her breasts. He tongued the hard point of her nipple,
rolling between his lips and then sucking hard enough that pleasure bowed her
back off the bed. One of his hands palmed her mound and then his fingers were
slipping wetly through her folds, tweaking her clit with a playful flick before
piercing her with a single firm digit. He didn’t need to hold her down anymore.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel her arms and legs. Couldn’t feel anything but
him
.
That hard invasion, working her over, sliding in and out, driving her up fast
and sweet, until her body was coiled and tight and ready to go. His thumb
rolled against her clit. Her breath caught.
Here it comes
…

His hand stilled
suddenly, thumb pressed against her clit like he was marking his place, holding
her immobile when all she needed was a tiny movement to send her flying. His
mouth lifted from her breast, his hand retreating from between her legs and
Mirage nearly screamed her frustration. Her eyes popped open in time to catch a
wicked gleam in his before he bent, positioning his wide chest between her
legs. He guided her knees up and over his shoulders, his touch on the backs of
her knees too gentle for her dear-god-almost-there-please-now state of mind. She
squirmed, her hips twisting, lifting, and he laid a flat palm against her
abdomen, pinning her down. She moaned his name—or some unintelligible
collection of syllables—but he must have understood what she needed because in
the next second his mouth came down on her, his tongue flicked her clit and the
sensation knocked her into orbit. She came screaming, her body convulsing as he
kept working his tongue against her to push her higher and make the orgasm
stretch on and on. Then he slid two fingers inside her, curving them just so
until he hit something
oh-god-yes-there
good and Mirage hit a new level
of bliss.

Just as she was
cresting, just as that insane, orgasmic high started to recede, she felt him
move. Distantly, she heard a condom wrapper tear and then he was hard against
her, lifting her like she weighed nothing, and to him she probably didn’t. She
felt the carved wood of the headboard at her back then he was sliding high
inside her in one smooth, eye-rolling thrust. He gripped the headboard behind
her and pulsed into her, just a flex of his hips at first, then harder, longer,
gaining tempo and force until the friction twisted something hard inside her
and she was coming again, clinging to him, screaming. His jaw locked with the
strain of holding back his own release. She moaned, “
Julian
,” on a
jagged gasp and he withdrew suddenly, flipping her so she faced the bed. He
plunged into her, arms wrapped around her hips to hold her in place as he
pumped into her, mindless and hard, until he spent with a rough shout.

They were both sheened
in sweat, sprawled bonelessly together on the bed when Mirage finally came down
from her last climax, still shivering with aftershocks. She was on her stomach,
Julian on his side, as he traced a lazy path down her spine.

“I didn’t have you
pegged for a screamer.” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been shouting across a
battlefield all day. Damn if that wasn’t hot.

“I’m not,” she mumbled
into the mattress. “At least I didn’t used to be.” She turned her head so she
could see his face. Blue eyes, blond hair flopped over his forehead, the jaw of
an action hero, he was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. “I think I
lied.”

His eyebrows popped up,
but other than that, he stayed immobile, screwed into near paralysis. “Hmm?”

“When I said I wasn’t a
virgin. Total bullshit. Because if
that
was sex, I’ve never had that before.
Damn
…”

Julian snorted, half
laughter, half smug male, and wrapped an arm around her waist to drag her
against him. Mirage went willingly, draping herself across him, and promptly
fell asleep.

He was so screwed.

This wasn’t just sex. He’d
known that, but he’d done it anyway and now…

Now what? What was
their future together? What was his end game? Sure, Mirage was doing better,
amazingly better, but she still had flashbacks, nightmares, and moments when
the echoes of compulsions overtook her. Julian didn’t know enough about Mind
Bender victims to know if that would ever change. He needed to speak to
Eisenmann. Why the hell hadn’t the doctor called him back?

Eisenmann had given him
the phone. He had to have the number. But what if he’d misplaced it? Could he
have been trying to reach them all week? Julian hadn’t turned on his own cell. What
if?

He slid out of bed,
managing to escape this time without waking Mirage. He tucked a sheet around
her bare shoulders and stepped into his pants, after tracking them down where
they’d landed halfway behind the dresser. His cell phone was still in the
pocket of the jeans he’d worn the first day they’d come here. He padded to the
other bedroom, dug it out, plugged in the charger, and fired it up. After it
flashed and cycled through the start-up sequence, the voicemail notification
pinged and a message popped up on the screen.

14 New Messages
.
Shit. Hopefully none of them were urgent. The first two were from Kim,
following up after the debacle at the bank, touching base to make sure he was
all right. There were a few from various men who identified themselves as
police, asking him to call back with any information about the whereabouts of
one Mirabelle Wroth. Then there was a
what-the-fuck-is-going-on
message
from a friend at the Justice Department and a series of increasingly more
demanding messages from the cops, insisting he turn Mirage over to their
custody.

But it wasn’t until the
eleventh message that the shit hit the fan.

It was Kim again, an
edge of panic to her voice now. She’d heard rumors that he was missing. Sources
told her he’d last been seen in the company of a known Mind Bender who’d been
involved in the Apocalyptum conspiracy a few months ago. She begged him to call
her back.

As the message ended
and the automated voice rattled off the date and time of the next one, Juilan
experienced a tiny frisson of guilt. He’d barely spared Kim a thought. In his
head, she’d been gone already. Off in the capital, nailing shady politicians to
the wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she would worry. He’d wiped clean
the portion of his life where her name was written.

The next message began
and he realized what a mistake that had been.

“Julian, it’s me
again,” Kim began, sounding more frazzled than he’d ever heard her. “I’m trying
not to panic, but my sources in the super task force are saying you’ve been
kidnapped and are being held under mind control and there’s nothing they can do
about it. I know you probably won’t get this message, but just in case you’re
still out there, call me back
right now
, okay? You’ve saved me more
times than I can count and now that it’s my turn to save you, I don’t know what
to do.” Her voice cracked and there was a pause as she pulled it together. “You
use the weapons you have, right? So I’m going live with the story tomorrow. If
I tell the world what this Mind Bender bitch is doing to you, maybe we can get
enough public outcry going that Super SWAT will get off their asses and find
you. The public loves you, Julian. And I… You know how I feel. Please call. If
you can.”

Holy shit
.
Kim thought he was being held hostage and was going to break the story. Eisenmann
had pulled a fucking vanishing act, Darla and Lucien were halfway around the
world doing their do-gooder part, and that left no one to speak for Mirage. No
one to tell the cops that this was all just a big misunderstanding. They had a
hard enough road ahead of them convincing the police that Mirage was harmless
without Kim adding pitchforks and tar and feathers to the mix.

He hurriedly dialed her
number, praying he was in time to stop the story. The message had been from the
night before. Maybe they hadn’t gone to press yet…

She picked up on the
first ring. “Justice? Is that you?”

The guilt was back,
sharper now at the frantic edge to Kim’s voice. “It’s me. And I’m fine. No one
is holding me hostage, Kim. I swear.”

“Oh, thank God. But…”

“What?”

“Well, if you were
being manipulated by a Mind Bender, isn’t that exactly what you would say?”

“Don’t run the story,
Kim. I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry,” she said,
not sounding even remotely apologetic. “It’s too late. It’s already up on the
online edition and it’s the front page of tomorrow’s Metro.”

“You can pull it. Print
a retraction. Take out a full page ad saying she’s innocent, if you have to.”

“Is she?” Kim asked
sharply. “You may not think you’re being held hostage, but she’s done something
to you.”

“I’m immune to Mind
Benders, Kim. You know that.”

“I thought you were,
but what if she’s the exception? Would you even know that your natural defenses
had failed?”

Anger spiked at the
idea that what he felt for Mirage could be an elaborate illusion—immediately
followed by a queasy wash of doubt. He hadn’t exactly been acting like himself
lately. What if Kim was on to something?

“Just hear me out,” she
urged. “I’ve seen the pictures that were taken the night she broke into First
Federal. She looks homicidal, but the way you’re looking at her… it seriously
freaked me out, Julian. Even before I began wondering if she was mind-fucking
you.”

Julian thought back to
that first night. He remembered the feel of her mind pressing hard against his,
mercilessly trying to roll him. He’d know she wasn’t herself, but what if he
hadn’t been himself either? What if everything since then had been a
corruption?

“There are a thousand
pictures of you rescuing me,” Kim continued. “And you never once looked at me
the way you looked at her that night.”

Because I never felt
about you what I feel for her.
The thought froze in
his brain, paralyzing him.

“You looked at her as
if saving her was your whole world, Julian. As if you would die if you failed. That
isn’t you. You’re aloof. Independent. Confident.”

Had he never loved Kim?
Had she just been a girl to save, neatly filling the damsel in distress role in
his life but never getting close to him? Never meaning so much that he couldn’t
bear to lose her?

“That kind of rawness… it
scared me.”

It would. She’d never
wanted more from him. Never wanted real intimacy. Real trust.

“Julian?”

“I’m here.”

“I… God, listen to me. I’m
never tongue-tied.” She paused, clearly expecting him to fill the void, but he
was still reeling. When he didn’t ease the silence, she went on. “I always
thought you were invincible, you know? You were always there and I figured you
always would be. I know it sucks, but you were…you were my back-up guy, you
know? My fallback position. And that wasn’t fair to you.” She cleared her
throat awkwardly. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I think I made a huge
mistake...walking away from you.”