Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
“Are you mad at me?”
The question, asked so softly that Blade was sure if he didn't have enhanced hearing, he would have struggled to catch it, made his heart ache.
He wasn't used to feeling so much. Whitney had explained to all of them that there was nothing wrong with their conscience or their ability to feel emotion, both were still intact, but the drug had affected the way the brain processed both, dulling them but not eliminating them.
Despite that, he’d spent a decade believing he’d been turned into a monster, you didn't just get over that overnight. In the intervening years, he’d learned not to put much stock into his emotions. Other than anger, everything else felt so distant that it wasn't worth paying any attention to.
Being around Whitney changed that.
It was like his emotions had gone into overdrive, and he was having a hard time keeping up with them.
“No,” he assured her. “I'm not mad at you.”
Instead of pushing further, Whitney merely nodded and then shifted in her seat so she was staring out the window instead of looking at him.
Although she was doing her best to fight through her own insecurities, he knew she was struggling.
Just like for the last decade, he’d believed himself to be a monster, she’d learned to acquiesce and not fight back, accept her situation and not hope for more.
But now she was hoping for more.
Actively working toward it.
Unable to have this conversation in the car with the rest of his team listening in, Blade reached around Whitney, opened the car door, then unsnapped her seatbelt, scooped her into his arms, and climbed out with her.
They still had almost two hours before Whitney was supposed to meet up with the cop they believed to be dirty and on Dr. Gardner’s payroll, so he doubted anyone was set up watching the meeting point yet.
They’d waited to call in the tip to the cops until they were already there and in position, wanting to maintain the upper hand.
Now he took advantage of that and carried his girl through the park and into a thick forested area.
This was the very same park where Whitney had lain in wait for Cassandra to approach her as the other woman went for her nightly run.
They’d chosen it because it was a public area, making it harder for the dirty cop to try anything, and giving them some coverage if they had to act quickly.
It also offered him privacy, and he needed it for what he had planned.
“You are mad,” Whitney said when he had her alone and set her down on her feet. “You’ve been mad ever since I suggested doing this.”
“Scared,” he corrected. His ego took a dent saying the word aloud, given the enhancements to his body, his endurance, his skills, all his training and experience, and his dulled emotions, he shouldn’t be afraid of anything.
But he was. And what good was an ego when the woman he had fallen hard and fast for was preparing to go into battle for him?
“I'm scared, too, Blade. Terrified. I know this is the right thing to do, and I want to do it so badly. But it doesn’t mean I'm not drowning in fear. You know the only thing keeping me afloat?”
“What?” he asked as he brushed a stray lock of silky, soft blonde hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear, and then letting his fingers trail down her neck, settling over her pulse point.
“You.”
“I'm making things worse. Stressing you out,” he reminded her. “You think I'm angry with you.”
“Yet you're here anyway. I do think you're angry with me, but I know that it comes from a place of fear. But you didn't leave me in the woods, and you're not leaving me now. You're here, and you're supporting me and this plan, even though it’s the last thing you want to do.”
“If I thought I could get away with it, I'd have you locked in my room at the mansion. I'd keep you there where I know you're safe and nothing and no one can touch you forever. But.” Blade sighed because it pained him to admit this. “I know if I did that, you'd hate me.”
“You'd be just another person to cage me.
I never got to grow my wings, but now I want to.
I want to be a grown-up instead of being perpetually stuck in the baby genius persona.
I want to work on my drug the way it was always supposed to be.
I want to learn to be assertive, to stand up for what I want, state clearly what I'm thinking, not always be afraid, trying to be quiet, small, so no one sees me.”
“And what happens when you grow your wings, darlin’?
Are you going to fly away and leave me behind?
Am I just a steppingstone along the way to you finding yourself?
Am I good enough to be with you, or are you going to leave me in the dust?
” Blade hated to sound like he was whining, and insecurity wasn't something he was used to. As a kid, he’d always been confident in his looks and his personality, knowing he was a catch.
Maybe he’d been a little arrogant back then, but it had never occurred to him that he might not be good enough for someone.
That they might not like him, sure, but not that he was lacking in some way.
“I thought you said I was yours? Are you throwing me away already?” Whitney asked instead of answering any of his questions.
Hating hearing those words coming out of her mouth, instead of answering, Blade spun her around, then yanked her back against his body, pinning her in place with a hand around her throat.
His other hand dipped inside her jeans and panties, cupping her core with a finger poised just at her entrance without slipping inside her.
“Throwing you away, darlin’? Do you know that if I could, I would stay permanently inside you so I never have to be away from you.”
Sinking two fingers into her, when Whitney cried out, he shifted his hand from her neck and placed it over her mouth. The last thing he needed was anyone, passerby or crooked cop, to find them.
“Shh, darlin’. You make a sound, I stop. Got it?”
Only when she gave a shaky nod did he start to pump his fingers in and out of her tight, wet heat.
With each thrust, he brushed his fingertips over her bud, before plunging them back in again and grazing that spot inside her that soon had her body squirming, and her breathing growing ragged, although she did her best to keep it quiet.
“Always mine,” he growled in her ear as he picked up his pace. “Never throwing you away.”
“Not flying away, not a steppingstone, too good for me,” Whitney whispered, her hips rocking against him as he continued to work her body.
“Never,” he snarled, angry at hearing her put herself down.
“You're too good for me. You're perfect, and I want to watch every second of you finding your wings and flying high. Come now, darlin’, want to feel you clench around my fingers, want to know I'm the only one who’s ever brought you pleasure.”
Like his words held power, Whitney combusted, coming with a scream, she did her best to mute it.
But he didn't give her time to float down from her high.
Just shoved her jeans down her hips, unzipped himself, and slammed into her in a single thrust, causing her to cry out, forgetting to mute herself this time.
“Told you not to make a sound, didn't I, darlin’?” he asked as he pulled his knife out, stroking the tip backward and forward across her neck. “You won't make that mistake again, will you?”
Frantic shaking of her head made him chuckle.
“That’s right, my girl is a fast learner. You like me filling you up, don’t you, darlin’?”
“Yes,” she whispered, the word barely more than a breath of air.
“And you want me to move, don’t you, darlin’? Make you come all over me?”
“Yes.”
“Then be a good girl for me and let me remind you how ludicrous the idea of me ever growing tired of you is.”
Not bothering to keep his thrusts gentle, Blade slammed into her over and over again. As he did, he circled one of her wrists, lifted her hand, then with a single slice cut open her palm. Her cry of pain quickly morphed into one of pleasure as he pulled all the way out then slammed back home.
Touching soothing kisses to the slender column of her neck, Blade released his hold on her wrist, then sliced along his own palm. Tucking his knife away, he reclaimed his hold on Whitney and pressed their bloody palms together.
“Bound by blood now, darlin’,” he whispered against her soft skin.
Closing his lips over the hollow in her neck where her pulse was fluttering wildly, Blade sucked lightly at first and then harder, as he moved their joined hands to her bundle of nerves, pressing Whitney’s palm against her bud as his covered hers, and moved them both.
“You’ll never doubt me again, will you, darlin?” he demanded.
Tilting her head so she could look over her shoulder at him, she met his question with one of her own. “And you’ll never doubt me again, either, right?”
“Right,” he said on a chuckle, and she nodded.
“No doubts. This is crazy, what's happening between us, so fast, and so unexpected, but it’s our crazy.”
“Our crazy,” he agreed as he banded an arm around her waist and slammed into her again and again, until he felt her internal muscles quiver, and then she bit her lip to keep her scream in as she clamped around him, her hips undulating as her orgasm tore through her.
Allowing his own release to crash down upon him, he held onto his girl, an anchor in all the storms of life, the good ones and the bad, Blade tried to accept the fact that in just a matter of minutes, he had to pull out of her and then let her walk off alone to fight their enemy without him by her side.
January 15th
1:21 P.M.
She was really doing this.
Timid, scared, always hiding and doing whatever wouldn't get her in trouble, Whitney Daley was taking the biggest risk of her life.
Setting up a secret new identity had been a risk.
Going to Cassandra with a warning for Delta Team had been a risk.