Amanda

 

 

I know Chad knows about the staircase. They will be here soon. I help Drake along as we go to the far end of the cavernous room where the excavators had set up a base camp in a side corridor. “We have to keep moving,” I apologize as the fast clip jostles his ankle.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” he hisses, his voice tight with pain. “Just find us a good place to stash ourselves.”

 

“I’ve got one in mind. Chad was too scared to stay down here. I had to shoot it on my own. There are big brick chambers and a wine cellar lower down that the forensics team was using. I know the cellar has a locking door.” As crazy and spooky as it is, I’m in my element down here. I know the layout—and I’m the only one who does.

 

The old larders line a hallway that leads to the root cellar door, their doorways still covered in hanging tarp from the forensics team that was here so many years ago. I help Drake inside the cellar and then push the heavy door closed with all my strength, shoving a big crate in front of it. I grab a full water bottle from my bag and set the light against it, sending a softer glow all over the walls.

 

“Here. Lean on the wall a minute, I’ll give you a place to settle and then we can look at your leg.” I unsling my backpack and pull out my mummy-style sleeping bag, unrolling one of the tarps to lay it on. “Come on.”

 

I help him settle onto it and then sit beside him, grabbing my pen light to illuminate his leg. The bullet took a chunk out of his boot and leather trouser cuff, gouging down to the sock beneath—but the sock is dry, not a speck of blood to be seen.

 

“Yeah, looks like I was lucky,” he mutters. “Fucking Max and his love of guns. Damn it.” He leans back against the wall next to me. “I’ll have to reinforce the boot with something, but it’s better that I don’t remove it. If it’s a sprain or a bone bruise, pulling the boot off and limping around without its protection will just aggravate it.”

 

I nod, sitting back against the wall, trying to regain my bearings after our terrifying escape. “Okay. Well, if we’re not moving fast it’s better to wait here until they check the area and move on. There’s a back way up to the first floor.”

 

His arm goes around my shoulders and I lean against him, feeling the need for a serious distraction. “Then we had better wait it out. Can they get through that door?”

 

“No. Some of this area’s closed off for instability. Chad hasn’t even gone down this hallway. He thinks it’s a death trap.” I nestle my head against his shoulder, the unfamiliar warm and tingly feeling coming back, wearing away slowly at my fear.

 

“That’s lucky, then. So we hide out here, wait until they come by, give them some lead time to get off the floor and then....” He looks down at the FLIR still hanging from its strap and checks it. “Okay, it’s still functioning and has half a charge on its battery. If we can use this puppy to move around we should be able to get past them in the dark.”

 

I smile, relaxing a little against him. We don’t have weapons, but we definitely have all the brains and preparation in this fight.

 

“I can’t believe you haven’t punched me in the face yet,” he admits, and I laugh a little.

 

“I’ve...thought about it a few times. But you’re kinda paying me a million bucks not to. So as long as you keep up your end, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

 

He lets out a soft laugh...and his hand drifts gently over to my knee. “Actually, I would rather you didn’t keep them to yourself.”

 

He turns to me, taking my chin in hand, and leans over to feather a delicate little kiss onto my nose. A spark catches inside me and I tilt my head up, chasing his lips with mine. He kisses me firmly, then delicately, then firmly again, ebbing in and out while I whimper against his mouth.

 

This isn’t the time to be thinking about sex. We have people chasing us, trying to kill us. But as he pulls me against him, I know that this is exactly the kind of distraction that I need right now.

 

Besides, to be completely honest with myself, I might be dead soon. There’s a cheery thought—but it also means that being shy seems a particularly stupid waste right now.

 

His kiss is shivery and almost too gentle at first, as are his hands as he starts exploring my body. It’s as if he doesn’t trust his strength—or his eagerness. But as I strip off my vest and lay the pen light aside, I think, I won’t mind much if he gets a little rough.

 

There’s more to this than simple revenge on Chad or taking a chance with a hot guy when my life’s at risk. It’s more than raw animal attraction. There’s nobody hot enough to get me fumbling off my clothes in the depths of a haunted hospital while my life’s in danger just on looks alone.

 

It’s the soft sounds of delight he makes as I kiss him, as I unzip his jacket and run my hands up his chest and over the soft turtleneck under it. It’s that strange tenderness I keep getting glimpses of, which balances his strength so perfectly. Mostly...it’s just something about Drake himself.

 

His hands slide over my body and then up under the back of my shirt, his long fingers so hot they almost sting on my chilled skin. I gasp as his palms move up and down my spine, then grip my waist as he pulls me onto his thighs. I go willingly, careful of his ankle.

 

His arm snakes around me, supporting my back while the other hand starts exploring me again. His mouth gets rougher and hungrier on my skin, sucking and nibbling, offering pleasure edged with pain. My toes curl inside my boots and I gasp for air; the cold, stale chamber seeming to recede behind a little bubble of growing heat around us.

 

I run my hands over his chest and under his jacket to clutch at the bunched muscles of his back. He shudders, his eyes hooded in the dim light from my improvised lamp. I’m surprised; his body seems as hungry as mine.

 

Maybe he’s coming off a bad relationship too.

 

He shrugs out of the jacket and lays it aside, his chest heaving, then turns back to me and captures my mouth with his own. I can feel waves of tremors running through him, and the rough way his fingers grip me now and again when he loses control of his passions only spurs me on. It feels so damned good that I don’t care if he bruises me, as long as he doesn’t stop.

 

His nimble hand cups my breast, stroking my nipple through my bra. It’s so different from Chad’s impatient fumbling. Instead he's skilled and attentive, responding when a particular caress makes me gasp. Suddenly I don’t mind the setting so much—I can’t wait until we’re free and I’m safe to have him. Especially since I don’t know if we'll actually escape at all.

 

He opens the bra—thank God I wore a front-fastener—and gasps with delight as my breasts spring free. “Oh wow,” he murmurs reverently, and then kisses his way down my throat toward them. He buries his face in them, stroking, kissing, swirling his tongue over them, while I whimper and squirm on his lap.

 

He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth and I throw my head back, panting silently. This is so different from my experiences with Chad that it makes me feel like I've never been touched by a man before. Waves of tingling heat roll through me from the pull of his lips, and I loll my head back into his hand, completely under his control.

 

It takes everything in me to keep quiet while he pleasures me. I can feel my cunt starting to tighten, hungry for satisfaction in a way that’s too familiar—this is the point Chad would tease me up to and then never fulfill. “Keep going!” I gasp desperately, clutching his hair with one hand. “Don’t leave me like this...don’t stop…”

 

He rolls us over easily, wary of his injury, and pins me down, leaving me squirming and moaning under him. His hand cups my vulva through my jeans and kneads firmly, and I shimmy my hips, grinding against the heel of his hand in time with his insistent suckling. My back starts to arch, pleasure more intense than anything I have ever experienced gathering in my body.

 

He groans suddenly, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. “This is killing me. I’ve got to fuck you.” His voice is a growl, but with a desperate, pleading note in it. His words affect me as much as his hand, and I unbuckle my own belt and unzip my fly.

 

“Do it.”

 

He’s just starting to unzip when my flashlight suddenly turns off by itself.

 

We both freeze, and to my horror I hear footsteps approaching outside. He claps a hand over my mouth and moves to shield me from the door, holding me tight against him. Terror mixes with desire like a jet of cold water against my hot skin.

 

“What about down here?” Max’s voice echoes down the short hallway outside.

 

Oh fuck.

 

“You don’t wanna go down there,” Chad stammers. “A lot of these tarped off places have parts of the ceiling falling. On this level, that means bricks and stuff.” He doesn’t seem to realize that the people on corpse recovery detail used a lot of tarps too.

 

As if on cue, there is a thud outside. “Whoa, holy shit!” Oscar yells, and I hear the footsteps stumbling back.

 

“Okay, kid,” Max replies, sounding a touch shaky. “Given that a giant brick just nearly brained me, I’m gonna go with your judgment on this one. If your ex knows this place like you said, she’s not dumb enough to go down there.”

 

The footsteps move on, and Drake removes his hand from my mouth, relaxing with a huge huff of air. “Jesus, that was close,” he mutters. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah.” I’m trembling still, as much from frustrated desire as the adrenaline rush. But I’m also trembling because there’s something happening all around me that I can’t record.

 

Lights that turn off by themselves. A brick that falls on cue. I can’t shoot it. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to talk about it with anyone after this. I’m not even bringing it up with Drake yet—after all, I know better than to rely on this presence the same way you would physical backup.

 

But it gives me hope. I think some of my ghost friends might be looking out for me.

 

Hopefully they aren’t watching too closely, though, because Drake starts kissing my neck then, trying to distract me from what he thinks is strictly fear. I hesitate for a moment, wary of Max and company somehow deciding to come back, but then smile and let him.

 

It doesn’t take long before his kisses and caresses have me squirming under him again. He braces himself over me and I shuck my jeans—then moan as I feel him slide down over my body. He starts rubbing his fingers up and down my slit through my silk panties, then takes my other nipple in his mouth and starts sucking roughly.

 

My head falls back; I bury my fingers in his hair and then slide my nails down his back. He’s already unzipped his pants, and I grip them by the belt, sliding the leather off his ass. His cock springs free as I pull his pants down further, and I feel its thick round head slide up my thigh.

 

My thighs part further and I lift my hips invitingly as his hands slide down to grip the panties and tear them off of me. I feel the head of his cock push against me—and I’m so wet and hungry for it that I push back. He slides inside easily, like our bodies were made to fit each other.

 

“Ahhhh,” he gasps against my breast, and I wish I could see his face. But the dark is nice and private, letting my senses fill with his sleek, hard body pressing down on me as his cock sinks in deep. His fingers move between us again to stroke my clit; he holds himself still, grunting with pleasure as I squirm under him.

 

I lose track of time as he thrusts into me, suckling and stroking me in time with his movements. My breath rises and falls with his movements—totally under his control—each surge of pleasure making me gasp out my air until I’m sobbing and whimpering. I can’t even beg any more.

 

My head is full of confusion. What feels this good? How can anything be this intense? I want more...I need more...and then suddenly, my body takes over and I’m catapulted toward something I’ve never known.

 

He slams into me deep and his fingers stroke me quickly, and then his head comes up and I scream into his kiss. My pleasure detonates, my mind blacking out in long waves as every muscle in my body clenches until they can’t anymore.

 

I collapse under him, a floating sensation running through me—but he isn’t done.

 

Panting harshly in my ear, he pounds into me harder and faster, his hand gripping and kneading me right above his thrusting cock. My body starts to tighten around his again; I feel my pleasure mounting up amazingly fast, and cling to him as his movements grow almost violent.

 

Suddenly he stiffens, groaning through his teeth. His hips grind in slow, hard circles against me—and I feel my body take off, muffling my sobs of pleasure against the inside of my arm. His cock shudders inside of me as he trembles, and then it goes still and he sags onto me.

 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Holy shit. I’ve got to get your phone number when we get out of here.” He can’t seem to move yet, panting over me as we both shudder through the aftermath. “Promise me.”

 

I lay there, a warm glow running through me, my mind preoccupied with one thought—so that’s what it’s like. And I smile.

 

“Of course.”