Strangers of the Night: Touched by Passion / Passion in Disguise / Unexpected Passion. Megan Hart
Gaze focused. A flush had spread up her throat to paint her cheeks. With her back still to the camera, shielding him, she pulled the small cup of meds from her uniform pocket and made a show of dispensing them.
“Take your vitamins,” Samantha said.
They weren’t vitamins, but at least they weren’t hallucinogens or sedatives. He swallowed them with the bottled water she gave him from the small fridge next to the desk. By the time he had, he’d also managed to will his erection back down.
“Careful, you’ve spilled,” she said calmly without looking away from his eyes, not so much as a glance at the small wet patch on the front of his pants.
Still watching out for him, he thought. Doing what she could. His balls ached, but he didn’t dare even to shift in the chair.
They shared a look, lingering as long as they dared. At least he imagined they did, but when she cut her gaze from his, Jed had to admit that perhaps all of this was in his head. Surely Samantha didn’t have any romantic feelings for him. How could she? He shouldn’t mistake kindness and a sense of duty for anything like affection. In fact, he should be ashamed of using his talent to inflict his lust on her.
“Do you need anything?” she asked him.
He needed lots of things, none of which she could give him. “No, thanks. Is it almost time for my session with Dr. Ransom?”
“Yes. I...think so.” Again, her cheeks colored as she checked her watch. “Wow, yes it is. I lost track of time.”
“The exam took longer today,” Jed said, watching her.
Again, Samantha snagged his gaze with hers and didn’t look away. She smiled. “Yes. A little longer.”
Behind her, the green light over the door clicked to red. She didn’t turn to look at it, but noticed him staring. She straightened, tucking the empty tin back into her pocket and patting it. She smoothed the fine tendrils of pale hair that had fallen over her forehead and cheeks. She cleared her throat and took another step back.
“Everything’s fine, though,” she said.
Jed smiled without much humor. “Isn’t it always?”
“No,” Samantha said even as her mouth formed the word yes, adding, “Don’t forget to buzz if you need me.”
I need you. I always need you. His answer, unspoken, could not possibly have reached her. His talents didn’t extend to projecting thoughts.
Still, she nodded as though she’d heard him, but that was his own foolishness. His own desire. Without another word exchanged, Samantha left the room and the door locked behind her, and Jed forced himself to get out of the chair so nobody would think something was wrong.
Leaving her shift in the light of day meant Samantha would be going home to blackout shades and a white-noise machine—but there’d be no easy sleep for her this morning. Not after that interminable five minutes in Jed’s room. Not with the memory of his touch lingering.
A cold shower didn’t help. She tried it, of course, running the water as frigid as she could stand it until her teeth chattered and her nipples peaked to near-painful tightness—but getting out, drying off, every stroke of the towel’s soft fabric against her had Samantha’s nerves tingling. Now she lay naked in her bed, the covers tossed off to expose her to the chilly autumn air, her window open to let in the breeze, because after a night’s work in Wyrmwood she couldn’t bear to be closed in, not even inside her own apartment.
Stretching, letting her naked skin shift on the sheets, she tried not to touch herself but gave up after a few minutes of halfhearted resistance. She’d been on fire since giving Jed his exam—the same one she gave him every shift. A quick check of his temperature, his pulse, his glands, the clarity of his eyes and little more than that. It was required, but useless, since the likelihood of anything being wrong with him that nobody hadn’t already noticed was so slim.
It was not the first time she’d murmured to him about the world outside, completely in defiance of the rules. Nor the first time she’d lingered over the exam, if only because of the way he’d pushed himself into her touch the way a cat would, purring, butting at her hand for the barest scrap of affection. Nobody touched him unless they were examining him. She knew that much, not from anything she’d ever been told as a staff member, but from the reports she’d studied, provided by Vadim and the vast reference and research sources of the Crew.
Nobody touched Jed to comfort him, not since childhood. Certainly never to arouse him, though she’d noticed about six months into her stint there that he’d begun reacting to her in that way. She’d never made a fuss about it, at first because she didn’t want to risk them pulling her off duty taking care of him, for fear there was any kind of connection between them. Later, to keep him from being embarrassed. Now, she noticed but never acknowledged it because she couldn’t admit to anyone, not even herself, how knowing that the simplest touch of her against him got him hard. How he looked at her, hungrier for that ten minutes they shared than he ever was for the trays of bland food they brought him.
Tonight was the first time, though, she’d ever had a similar reaction.
Her hand slid between her legs to cup herself. Fingers slipping inside. She was still slick. Her clit, still sensitive enough that the slight flick of it from her thumb forced a sigh out of her.
He’d almost made her come while barely touching her.
With a low groan of frustration, she stopped. This was no good. She didn’t want to admit that she thought of Jed in that way. Jed, the man she was supposed to protect. Not lust after.
Still, the job with Wyrmwood had made it impossible for her to have much of a social life, which left nothing but the touch of her own hand. It had been about a week since the last time she’d pleasured herself, and she was surprised she’d made it this long without taking the time to get herself off. No wonder he’d been able to bring her so close, Samantha thought with a sigh as she rubbed her clit in a slow, steady circle. She was definitely in need of an orgasm.
The scent of lavender. It teased and tickled her nostrils. Memory, she was sure, but caught up in the eroticism of her own touch, she didn’t think much about it beyond that. She let the smells wash over her, urging her toward release.
Sometimes she used toys, but tonight the touch of only her fingers was getting her there. That and the memory of standing next to Jed, her fingertips on his wrist and feeling the suddenly swift throb of his heartbeat. His erection, conspicuously thick in his scrubs. The small wet spot of his precome that had stained it...all that from doing nothing but sitting near her. The thought of it was intoxicating and had her slipping over the edge into a hard, brief orgasm that left her breathless and sated...for now.
She gave herself a few minutes to luxuriate in the afterglow, which was nowhere near as nice as it would’ve been if she had been with someone else, but it would have to do. She’d already filed her daily report for the Crew, but now she rolled out of bed and slung on a silk kimono to sit at her desk and flip open her laptop. She typed in the web address of the secure reporting site and scrolled back through all the information she had on Wyrmwood. On Jed. Her notes were complete and thorough and said very little because there wasn’t very much to say. She went in. She did her job. She came home. She waited for word on when it was time to get him out of there.
And sometimes, she thought with a small pang of guilt, she made herself come when thinking about him.
She wasn’t surprised when her computer rang. Surely they monitored when she logged in, and what she looked at. “Vadim.”
He smiled at her from the small video chat window on her screen. “Samantha. What’s going on?”
She did not want to tell her boss about the sexual encounter today. It was an embarrassing lack of self-control on her part. It might get her pulled from the