Sounds to Die By: Sensory Ops, Book 1 Read online

  He tilted his head and laughed, low and seductive. In a flash, he grabbed her ankles, yanked her down to a supine position, and straddled her with his knees by her hips and his hands by her head. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs. Aggression darkened his gaze. It excited her to know that he was tightly wound. It gave her power and made her feel in control. She’d pushed him here. Even submitting, letting him be the driver, she aroused him as much as he aroused her.

  She sighed and sank deeper into the bed. “You can’t scare me.”

  “Who said I wanted to scare you?” He bent his elbows, lowered until his mouth was just at her ear. “I only want to enjoy you. To see you enjoy yourself.”

  “I’m not complaining so far.”

  He slid the tip of his tongue around the rim of her ear. Shivers skittered down her spine faster than when she listened to the lead singer of Nickelback crooning about his dreams and missing the woman he loved.

  “Ah, but you still need to relax.” He nipped her ear, lowered his hips and rubbed his cock against her. “Let go of that control you’re so determined to hold tight to.”

  He couldn’t know about her need for control. Lucky guess.

  She popped her hips off the bed, keeping the contact when he would have pulled away. “Why don’t you give up control?”

  He rubbed his smoothly shaved face along her neck. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  She didn’t like hairy men or the abrasion of an unshaved face, but damn if she didn’t want to feel his five o’clock shadow. How perverse.

  Fun indeed. She lifted her hands from the bed and eased them along his chest. She rolled his nipples between her fingers, wanting them to harden. Stand on end.

  Ian sat up and mirrored her move. He alternately pinched and rolled her nipples between his remarkably smooth fingers. His pinches sent slight pain tripping through her, kindling the fires of hunger deep in her belly. Her nipples saluted him. His saluted her.

  He shifted so his knees were between hers. She immediately lifted her hips, rubbed herself up and down the length of his thick cock. There was so much of him. “Ian, come on already.”

  “Soon.” He leaned over her and reached for the nightstand drawer. He grabbed a condom and tossed it on the bed beside her hip.

  She grabbed the foil wrapper and ripped it open. She’d always wanted to roll a condom on a man using her mouth, but she’d never been with a lover that made her feel bold enough. Ian did, but now, this time, she more desperately wanted to feel him inside her.

  Slipping her hand between them, taking his pulsing erection in her hand, she grinned. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. “Very soon.”

  She sheathed him, but rather than pull back or quickly position him for a quick thrust, which she craved, she held him and absorbed his warmth. Squeezing gently, she glided her hand along his length to the tip and then back to the base. Tension coiled in him. His pupils dilated. His nostrils flared.

  Digging her head into the pillow, electrified by the leashed power in her palm, she slid up and down him again. He cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed. A guttural moan rumbled up from his throat. “Kieralyn.”

  “You’re so big.” Her inner walls pulsed. Her pussy swelled painfully. Tension gripped the base of her spine. Her head buzzed. She needed relief. A release that only Ian could give her. “Powerful.”

  She positioned him at her aching entrance and grabbed his head to guide his mouth to hers. He was kissing her before she’d finished her maneuver.

  He plunged his tongue into her mouth in the same instant he thrust into her throbbing core. She dug her head into the pillows, writhed beneath him in an attempt to minimize the sensations assaulting her.

  He pulled back, almost completely withdrawing before driving home again. His tongue mimicked the action. She couldn’t catch a breath. Euphoria wrapped around her, heating her blood to boiling. He was going to cause her to combust.

  He repeatedly drew back and thrust home. Slow, then fast. Fast, then slow. The ridges and bulging veins of his erection teased her. His coarse hair tickled her clit and drove her higher and closer to orgasm.

  He worshiped her body with his hands while expertly tormenting her with his confounding control. Every second, every thrust and every withdrawal built her arousal.

  Ravenous, she sucked his tongue into her mouth and latched her feet tight around his back. She curled her hips up and forward and impaled herself on him, unwilling to let him withdraw again.

  Ian groaned and pushed deeper than she’d thought he could possibly go. Her inner walls convulsed, grasped at him. She jerked against him in tiny thrusts. Stars danced at the edges of her suddenly blurred vision.

  Battling for breath and coated in sweat, they indulged in the raging need for completion. Greedy, she milked every second of the orgasm until he collapsed against her.

  She bit her bottom lip and steadied her breathing. “That was better than B.O.B.”

  “Excuse me?” Ian pushed up on his elbows and moved slightly away from her. “You’re comparing me to a Bob? Do you have a checklist for each man you have sex with?”

  “You’re jealous.” She grinned.

  “Apparently I have nothing to be jealous of.” He dropped to the bed beside her and pulled her against him. “But no more talk of Bob in my bed.”

  “Fine. Keep up the good work and I won’t need to recharge my batteries for awhile.”

  Ian busted out laughing and hugged her close. “Oh. B.O.B.”

  Her chest constricted. She’d screwed up. Not on the case, but with Ian. He’d gotten too close and damn it, his pleasure pleased her. He made her want to please him in and out of bed on a regular basis.

  Shit. She’d forgotten for a moment that he was off limits.

  Kieralyn woke in darkness that was relieved only by the pale moonlight slanting through the wooden blinds. Ian’s considerable weight pinned her to the firm mattress. He’d draped his arm and leg over her. His hand cupped her breast. His dick, semi-hard even in sleep, pressed against her hip. A garter snap dug into her thigh beneath his.

  Looking for the clock, she turned her head and nearly brushed her nose against his. Sliding to the opposite side of the pillow, she raised up to check the time.

  Four a.m. Ugh.

  Intimacy surrounded her. The lingering scent of their sex. The press of his body cradling hers. The flow of his breath sweeping across her neck and face. Sex she did. Not often enough if her reactions to Ian’s touches were any indication, but she wasn’t a stranger to it. Falling asleep in a man’s bed was something she never did. It opened her up to vulnerability. Vulnerability robbed her of control. Much like Ian had with sex.

  Damn it. I should never have gotten involved with him. I can’t deal with a relationship right now. No matter how amazing the man is.

  Kieralyn slid her legs to the edge of the bed, easing out from under his. With a sigh of relief that she didn’t wake him, she lifted his arm and rolled away to stand beside the bed. She watched him closely, judging his breathing while holding her own breath.

  Don’t wake up. Please, please don’t wake up.

  He squirmed, settling his head deeper into the pillow. His breathing remained slow and steady. The air conditioner kicked on. A blast of cold air hit her skin. Wrapping her arms around herself, she edged to the end of the bed where she knelt and felt around for something to wear. She found his shirt and slipped it on.

  Clutching the shirt closed at her breasts, the soft fabric whispering across her legs almost to her knees, she headed toward the doorway. She smelled him on the shirt. The image of his olive-skinned, meticulously toned body peeking at her as she’d parted the gray material jumped to the forefront of her mind with the rest of the night flying in behind it.

  She kicked the heel of her shoe with a stocking-clad toe and stumbled. Stifling a curse, she tried to remember when she’d taken the shoes off, but clear recall was lost in the haze of killer sex.

  A few steps away, she stopped
and turned back toward the bed. Ian sprawled across the mattress and tangled sheets. The slightly puckered skin rimming his eyes and along his jaw made her think of life’s ugliness. She’d dealt with plenty that had left her messed up inside. He’d apparently dealt with more physical traumas, but somehow he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed stronger for it.

  His face, softened in sleep, reminded her of his generous spirit. The way he’d helped her and how he’d made her pleasure his primary focus. The sight of his lips, plump and pressed together, reawaked her desire.

  He was as commanding in sleep as he was awake. As captivating. Alluring.

  Pain gripped her chest. Her lungs constricted, robbing her of air. Tremors shook her body.

  Dangerously alluring. Chewing her lip, she left the room.

  Space. She needed space to think. To breathe. To forget how alive she’d felt in his arms.

  Stepping into the hallway, she almost slipped on the tile floor. Regaining her footing, she headed through the kitchen and went into the garage. She kept a bag in her car with exercise clothes and a spare work outfit for emergencies. Ian’s shirt was comfortable, but walking around his home with it and her stockings on crossed an intimacy line she wasn’t ready for.

  Using the car’s interior light, Kieralyn changed her stockings and garter for yoga pants and Ian’s shirt for a sports top. The control she’d given over shifted back to her.

  Looking between the car and the open kitchen door, she considered collecting her stuff and leaving. She didn’t typically stick around for the morning after. Doing so with Ian somehow felt monumental—uncomfortably so. But he’d put her on the path of the jazz club. He had an inside track to El Dogo, even if it was insight into who the man had once been. He’d listened to her when no one else would. She headed back into the kitchen.

  The twinkling stars shining in through the glass door caught her attention. Living in the heart of the city, she missed seeing the stars at their full power. She sat her stuff on the table, walked past a snoring Maximum and eased open the door. The humidity of the night air, though slightly oppressive, was a welcome change to the cool interior of the house. She loved fresh air.

  Sitting in one of the padded patio chairs and staring up to the sky, she recalled with clarity the sensations her body had felt beneath Ian’s touch. With tender precision he’d overwhelmed her emotions, aroused every sense and awakened a long dormant desire to belong to a single person. The reverence in his attention awoke fantasies of intimacy and dragged them to the surface.

  Ian was nothing like past lovers and boyfriends. His touch was filled with light and admiration rather than darkness and hatred. Still, he made her lose control. She needed her control.

  Intimacy was unacceptable. Intimacy on an emotional level led to pain and disappointment. Promises made were always broken. No one ever cared as deeply as they claimed.

  She couldn’t belong to anyone. Wouldn’t. However great Ian seemed now, as soon as things moved to a serious level, he would change.

  She stood. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “It’s a good enough place for us.” An unfamiliar voice came from just behind her.

  She spun around and found herself facing two men wearing plastic masks. Her heart pounded. Her instincts and training kicked into gear.

  Her gun was in her bag on Ian’s kitchen table, but at least she’d put on clothes that allowed her the freedom to move.

  “Good enough for what?” How had they gotten so close without her sensing them? Right, her mind had been caught up on Ian. Another reason to avoid him.

  She sized up the men.

  “To take you with us.”

  Man A. Alpha. Physical. Shaved head. Six foot. Two hundred and twenty pounds, give or take a few. A stiff set to his shoulders and popping knuckles working in and out of fists identified him as the more violent of the two.

  “To have some fun.”

  Man B. Beta. Weaker, though not wimpy. Six foot two. Hundred and eighty pounds tops. Brown hair fell loosely over the top edge of the mask. The easier of the two to take down.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” She edged around the table, putting some distance between them.

  Alpha stepped forward. Menace pulsed in the surrounding air. She scanned the area, calculated where the men stood and their sizes and considered her options. A closed door, furniture and approximately fifty feet stood between her and her weapon. She was good at hand-to-hand, but she had yet to win a sparring match with her partners when they teamed up on her.

  She could turn and run, hoping like hell she managed to outrun them while barefoot. Not that she had anyplace to run to. Or she could scream like a banshee, which should wake Ian. He could set Maximum on them or call the cops. Damn it, no. She was a trained FBI agent. She knew how to protect herself, and screaming for help from a man who would only get hurt was no way to prove herself. This was up to her to solve. No one was coming to her rescue. She didn’t need them to. She would just have to take the men out one at a time.

  “What could you want with me?”

  “Answers. Silence. Whichever comes first.”

  “Who sent you here? What are you going to do to me?”

  “Who is not your concern.” Alpha stepped closer. “Unless you’re telling us who you are and what you’re up to.”

  “Don’t worry.” Beta stayed still, looking ready to dive over the table to get her. “You’ll have company in your new hell.”

  “You know, I’ve visited Hell. It’s not a place I care to see again.” She gripped the edge of the table. The wrought iron dug into her palms. “You, on the other hand, can tell me if it’s changed any.”

  Kieralyn shoved the table at Beta. He went down with a grunt beneath the force of the clanking iron. Alpha advanced. She stood her ground, ready to deliver an upward jab to his nose as soon as he was close enough. Two more steps and she could make her move. One more. She narrowed her eyes and pushed her arm out from her side.

  Inches from connection, Alpha grabbed her wrist. He yanked her to him, spinning her at the last second so her back was pressed to him. His right arm wrapped around her throat. His left hand held her right fist near her face.

  She panted and fought against him. How had she misjudged the distance? Shit.

  “Bitch.” Beta shoved the table off him with a clang and got up. “You will pay for that.”

  Shit. Shit.

  “Two men against one woman doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” Ian! “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

  She struggled harder against Alpha’s hold. Making use of his hold on her, she curled her knees toward her chest, lifting her feet off the ground. She had to take them down before Ian got hurt. She kicked out with all the power she had. Alpha held firm.

  Damn it! Regardless of how easily Ian had seemed to move through the earlier crowds, he didn’t stand a chance in a fight against two men. Hell, even Beta could take him.

  Alpha turned toward the house, affording Kieralyn a view of Ian. Two steps onto the patio, dressed in only his boxer briefs with his hands hanging loosely by his sides, she thought she might just have been wrong.

  Electrical pulses of energy vibrated around him. His eyes pointed toward the ground. He cocked his head to the side like he had in the lab when focusing on sounds. Could he process the scene well enough to help?

  “Stop him,” Alpha snapped at Beta. Beta moved in on Ian.

  Kieralyn fought against Alpha. If they were closer, she could raise her legs again and kick Beta now that he’d moved positions. That would help Ian, but they were still just out of reach.

  Ian stood stock still. Waiting. Beta closed the remaining distance. He swung his fist toward Ian’s face. Ian raised his hand, blocking the hit. He closed his hand over Beta’s fist, and squeezed until Beta’s knuckles cracked.

  Beta cried out. Ian released his hand. Bending his arm, Ian swung his arm in front of him. His elbow slammed into Beta’s face. More bone cracked. Blood gushed fro
m his nose.

  Ian stepped back from Beta. “You want more?”

  Alpha’s grip loosened.

  Kieralyn grabbed on to his arm, leaned back into him, and then flung her body forward. Alpha flew over her. His head slammed into the tile of the patio. He didn’t move.

  Beta turned to run.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Ian leapt forward and grabbed his shirt in a left-handed grip.

  Beta spun around, with his fist primed to strike. Ian raised his right fist and delivered a solid uppercut to the underside of Beta’s jaw. Teeth clacked against teeth. Beta slumped into unconsciousness. Ian released his grip and let him fall to the ground like a lump of potatoes.

  He turned to her, his head cocked again. He had to hear the pounding of her heart. Hell, she could hear it. How had he managed to fight off an attacker so easily? He hadn’t stumbled or misjudged a single punch.

  She had.

  Ian stepped around the men sprawled on the ground and advanced on her. The moonlight hit his eyes, lighting them as eerily as the control panel in his lab had. Rather than strike fear in her, it aroused her. Comforted her.

  Confidence and power oozed from him with each step closer. The term “animal magnetism” took on a whole new definition when applied to Ian.

  “Are you all right?” He framed her face and ran his hands over her body.

  Her nipples hardened. Her skin heated. This was why she’d needed space. He distracted her, and she couldn’t afford distractions. She wanted to indulge in him. Here. Now. Despite the two men who’d been sent after her lying on the ground.

  “I’m fine.” She grabbed his hands to stop his exploration of her body. “We need to call my unit. Have these assholes picked up and questioned.”

  “What if we didn’t call your team just yet?”

  “Excuse me?” She pulled back and stared at him, searching his face for any hints to his thoughts. He was asking her not to call her team to pick up the men responsible for Lana’s disappearance. At the very least they were knowledgeable. If she called in her team they would have to give her credit and see the validity in her theory. “These bastards planned to take me to wherever the other women are being held.”