Misled(9)

His thumbs drifted along the impossibly long length of her lashes, brushing away the tears that clung there. “What are you afraid of, baby?”

“I’m not afraid.” She sat up. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head upon his chest. “But this can’t keep happening. It has to stop.”

“Why?” He pulled back to search her face. The sadness in her eyes arrested his gaze. He’d felt it during their mental connection and was frustrated by the wall she’d erected in her mind. She only let him see a tiny portion of who she was, keeping the greater part of herself tucked away.

What wasn’t she sharing with him?

“There’s more than lust going on here, Sable. I know you feel it too. You wouldn’t be crying otherwise.”

“There are things you don’t know about me.”

“I don’t care what they are.” He was startled to realize he spoke the truth. He was a curious man, which made him good at his job. “I can wait until you’re ready to tell me. All I care about is us—you and me and the way I feel when I’m inside you. The way you make me feel when you look at me like you’re doing right now.”

Sable glanced away and he gripped her chin, pulling her gaze back to his.

“Don’t turn away from me, baby.”

“Don’t push, Derek. Okay?”

Derek released her and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent six hundred years looking for this. I’m not about to let it go now that I’ve found it.”

“Do you love me?” she asked bluntly, her sapphire gaze probing, invasive.

He choked at her directness and the questions it made him ask of himself.

“I thought so,” she murmured without inflection. She shoved him backward, forcing his semi-erect cock from the shelter of her pussy, leaving him feeling bereft and rejected. She smoothed her short skirt over her thighs and slid off the table, pausing a moment to retrieve her thong. The wall between them was a tangible thing and it frightened him. And pissed him off.

“Damn it!” Derek tugged on his uniform, glaring at her. “Give me a chance to think.”

“Forget it.” Sable flew to the door before he could move. She paused on the threshold, her mouth thinned with determination. “Stay out of my life, Atkinson. Find another way to pass the time.”

* * * * *

Sable sat in the cockpit of her Starwing and reminded herself that she was a strong woman who could handle anything. Rubbing her eyes, she leaned back in the captain’s chair and wished she had roots somewhere, something that was hers, a place to call home. She’d taken possession of the highly desired ship compliments of a smuggler who’d been caught by Interstellar Customs. Almost everything she owned was confiscated goods from the impounds of half a dozen different law enforcement agencies. She had to have the best of everything to maintain the appearance of a money-hungry bounty hunter. Unfortunately, it also meant that Sable Taylor had nothing of her own.

She looked out the cockpit window at the half dozen ships docked around her. They branched out on spokes from the slowly spinning center that was the Task Force field office for this part of the universe. Derek’s ship was easy to spot. He drove a Starwing not much older than her own, but his ship was definitely more luxuriously outfitted.

Derek Atkinson had money—lots of it. Judicious investments made over several centuries would make anyone rich beyond measure. It was a testimony to Derek’s character that he chose to work for the STF rather than spend his days idly, surrounded by willing women. His imperviousness to bribery made him the least likely of her suspects. She was certain that no amount of money could entice Derek to whore himself to the Federation.

So who was the traitor?

She’d pondered that question a hundred times over. Starting the engines, she glanced down at the readout on the console. Jeffrey Leroy was next on her list of agents to investigate. He was in the Delta Sector tracking down a smuggler, so that was her next destination. Disengaging from the docking bay, Sable pulled the required distance away from the field office before programming the jump to lightspeed. Then she stood, stretching muscles made deliciously languid from two fabulous orgasms.

Taking a quick shower, she tried not to think about what had happened at headquarters and failed miserably. How could she not think about it? She’d ignored every protocol of her job by getting involved with an agent. And she was definitely involved, no doubt about that. It would be so much easier to blame it on loneliness eased by physical pleasure, but that wouldn’t be true and she had to be honest with herself. Otherwise, she’d do something stupid, like fuck him some more, which was exactly what had gotten her in this mess to begin with.

Sable shut off the spray and toweled her skin dry.

And what the hell had gotten into Derek? He’d almost made it sound like what they had was more than just sex for him too, but she knew better than that. His terrified expression when she’d said the word “love” had proven that point. Yeah, the sex was great, fabulous even, but it wasn’t a good thing when one partner was coming undone and the other one just wanted to come.

With a weary sigh, she threw herself on her bed and glared at the ceiling.

She’d been a fool to fall for Derek Atkinson—a full Master vampire with a sensual call that turned every woman into a mewling sex slave. She would bet a million credits he’d never been in love in his life. He’d lived centuries as a bachelor and seemed to enjoy it immensely, if rumors held true. He left broken hearts in his wake.

Just like hers.

She closed her eyes and without even trying, she could smell him, the scent of his skin infinitely alluring. Her breasts grew taut and heavy as she pictured his hot gaze and luscious mouth. Reaching up, she squeezed the swollen flesh to ease the ache and wished she weren’t alone.

“I miss you, Derek,” she whispered into the still air.