Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(92)

Noah joined her, in a few swift strides. “I didn’t see the phone,” he said.

“Hidden pocket,” she said.

“Turn it off,” Noah said. “Your sig just went nuts. What happened?”

“Gareth. My boss at Bounce.” She struggled to catch her breath. “Mark’s guys found him. Roughed him up. Gareth gave them my address. That was how they found me. He called to warn me. Left a voicemail.”

He held out his hand for the phone. “Let me hear it.”

His eyes were fiercely thoughtful as he listened to the message. Beard stubble shadowed his jaw, his chin.

“It’s happening again,” Caro said. “Tim, then Bea, now Gareth. You and your family are next. I thought Gareth would be safe. I walked into his agency right off the street and asked him for a job. He had no past connection to me. He never knew my real name. No one but you knows my name! How the hell did they connect him to me?”

Noah pried open her phone, pulled out the battery and tossed it onto the table. “Did you do artwork for Gareth? At Bounce?”

“Of course,” she said. “But not as a designer. Nothing that I took credit for. Not even using a fake name. Let alone my legal name.”

“But you did do design work for him,” he said. “Credited or not.”

“Well, yeah. It was a costume shop. I built costumes, made masks.”

“Were those featured online?”

“Of course. Theater or dance productions are all over social media.”

He shrugged. “So he saw your stuff online.”

“But I never got credited. I made sure of that. I’m not stupid!”

“Mark would recognize your style if he’d seen your work even once,” Noah said. “So would I.”

She bit her lip. “Gareth took a chance on me. Now he’s paying for it.”

“He’ll be OK,” Noah said. “They have no reason to hurt him now. According to the message, he gave them what they wanted. Now those men are dead, and Mark has me to think about. He won’t bother Gareth.” He stroked Caro’s hair. “But I didn’t want for us to discuss this now. You need rest.”

“Rest,” she repeated. “Right, Noah. A soul-sucking psycho maniac is searching high and low for everyone my life has ever touched so that he can punish the whole world with an army of lethal mutant freaks, and I’m supposed to rest.”

Noah shrugged. “Well, for what it’s worth, we’re lethal mutant freaks, too. The good kind.” His arm went around her shoulders, squeezing gently. “We’ll work on this after you’ve had twelve hours of sleep.” He turned back toward the dining room. “Everyone else, clear out of here,” he called.

“Except for me, to stand guard and man the monitors,” Sisko called back. “Right. Lucky me.”

Caro headed up the stairs. Noah followed her. Inside the bedroom, he flicked on a light just like those in his house. Dim lighting, as soft as firelight.

He pulled a lens case out of his pocket, removed his lenses, and turned that gorgeous, unearthly flash of amber in his eyes directly upon her.

The probing sensation was unbearable. “Quit it, Noah.”

“I’m just looking at your sig,” he said. “You’re so f*cking beautiful without those damn lenses. It’s wild.”

Wild. That word anchored her. After a moment, she could breathe deeply again and gaze right back at that uncanny luminosity. Wildness. It spoke of full moons, huge spaces, sweeping winds. A timber wolf running through snow.

And power. Strength, from deep within.

He made her feel it. It grounded her, straightened her back up, sent a rush of energy through her whole body.

Noah sensed the shift in her, and heat crackled and leaped between them instantly. His raw sexual sorcery was so potent. She couldn’t get enough.

She kicked off the shoes, the socks. Peeled the tight sweater off her head, and tossed her hair back. Shimmied out of the jeans and stood there in only bra and panties.

“Come here,” she said.

He came closer. “I’m yours for the taking,” he said. “Anytime, anywhere.”

“Good,” she whispered as he approached. “Right now, then. Right here.”

“Nice lingerie,” he said. “Take it off.”

“You do it.”

Her words were cut off by his hungry kiss.

They only stopped long enough for him to rip off his sweatshirt. He pressed her against him, unclasping the bra, tossing it away, clearly enjoying the way the tips of her breasts rubbed against his broad, scarred chest. He hooked his thumbs into her panties, nudging her back until she ran into the bed and sat down on it, bouncing.

He crouched by the bed to peel the panties off her ankles, then knelt between her knees and pressed hot, demanding kisses against her inner thigh, caressing her knees with his warm hands. The contact left a shimmering glow that spread out, everywhere.

“I want to go down on you.” He stroked the seam of her labia, just a slow, tender swipe with his thumb, up and down. That teasing contact and the aching hum of tension between them made silky wetness pool inside her. Her body’s instinctive demand.

Noah’s fingers slipped inside her and emerged gleaming, slick and hot. He made a low growling sound of pure satisfaction and sucked on them hungrily.