CHAPTER NINETEEN
Becca’s blood work was almost normal, as in barely a trace of anything pointing to cancer. It was a miracle, but Becca didn’t celebrate. Kelly and Sterling seemed to understand she needed to set herself aside, including the threat Dorian represented, and focus on the big picture.
Six hours later, Becca punched a computer button to end a session with Kelly and turned away from the lab table to run smack into Sterling.
His hands settled quickly to her arms, steadying her. Heat curled in her stomach, and she had the most exasperating desire to push to her toes and run her fingers through his spiky blond hair.
“You’re hovering again,” she reprimanded.
“I was bringing your dose of ICE,” he said and then grinned. “But yeah, hovering too.”
“My mental shield is up,” she said. “I can feel it. I’m okay. I swear. You don’t have to stand over me and wait for Dorian to attack.”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry,” he said. “I’m staying close by your side. So just deal with it.” His hands slid away from her arms, leaving her cold and eager to have him touch her again. He held out the vial of ICE. “I don’t want you going into withdrawal.”
Reluctantly, she reached for it, but closed her hand around his instead, as she suddenly remembered something she’d learned while in his head. “This isn’t about me surviving this addiction,” she said, needing him to know that for some reason. “I know you’re worried about that, maybe even worried that I will have second thoughts about destroying ICE. But I wouldn’t have told you about Dorian if that were the case. I know you might think I’ll make decisions simply to keep myself alive, or maybe others around you will, but I won’t. This is bigger than me.”
He reached up and brushed hair from her eyes, gently, protectively. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep you alive.”
She wanted to melt into him at that moment, wanted to believe he could protect her, save her. But he couldn’t. Why pretend otherwise? She slipped the vial of ICE from his hand and turned away from him. Ashamed by such an addiction, she didn’t want him to see her take it.
Becca downed the ICE and set the vial on the lab table, the freezing sensation sending her hand to her throat. Suddenly, Sterling’s hands were on her shoulders, and he was turning her toward him. Before she knew his intention, his fingers laced through her hair, and he was kissing her, his mouth hot, demanding. His body—strong, warm—pressed close to her.
With only a moment of hesitation, Becca leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his back, moaned as his tongue slid along hers, caressed and teased, hungry. He tasted like apple pie, and if she hadn’t been so hot, she might have laughed at the fact that he’d been eating apple pie.
But she was hot, and for the first time since meeting Sterling, maybe for the first time ever, she kissed him—kissed a man—with complete, utter abandon. Kissed him like there might not be a tomorrow, like a woman who knew what she wanted, and what she wanted was him.
Long seconds later, Sterling tore his mouth from hers, staring down at her with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes that made her want to kiss him all over again. “I thought you had reasons not to touch me,” she challenged, hardly recognizing the gravelly, desire-laden words as her own.
“I’ve never done real well at doing what I’m supposed to do,” he said, his thumb caressing her cheek, the sensation somehow making her breasts heavy, her nipples tight and achy. Becca had never felt so ready to lose herself in a man. But then, she’d never been in a position where she had nothing to lose but herself. It was liberating in ways she was ready to embrace.
She drew a breath and willed away the flutters in her stomach, nerves that came from years of suppressing her desires. “I’ve always done exactly what’s expected of me,” she confessed. “I don’t want to this time. I don’t want you to either.”
He lowered his head, his breath warm as it caressed her skin. The promise of his kiss brought her to her toes when suddenly he drew back. “Once we do this,” he said, a deep, whiskey-rich quality to his voice, “we can’t undo it.”
He’d said something similar at her house, when he was about to tell her about the GTECHs. She didn’t shy away then, and she wasn’t going to now. And apparently neither was he, because despite his warning, he didn’t move away, didn’t put distance between them, and she could feel the thick ridge of his erection. Courage formed with those realizations. Becca flattened her hand on his chest, splayed her fingers, absorbed the feel of muscle flexing beneath her palm. She wanted to touch him, to feel him close, to forget everything else for just a little while.
“I don’t want to die never having known you, Sterling.”
Torment sliced through his expression. “Becca—”
She pressed her fingertips to his lips. “Don’t,” she said, easing her fingers away, letting them slide over his jaw. “Every day of our lives could be the last for every one of us. I’m simply living with that in mind. I regret not doing so my entire life.” She’d regretted a lot since finding out she had cancer, and regret was something she could do without. “I want you, Sterling.”
He stared down at her, and she’d never been looked at quite like that, with so much simmering heat. He really did look like he wanted to gobble her up as he’d once suggested, and thankfully, he apparently decided he would. He kissed her, more than kissed her. It was a claiming, a taking. A possessing. His lips pressed to hers, first soft then firm, his tongue pressing past her teeth, warm with demand, hungry…devouring her. And she wanted to be devoured, wanted to devour him right back. Wanted to do every wanton, sensual deed she’d ever dared to consider, ever dared to wonder about, and always allowed inhibitions to destroy.
Becca went to her toes, reaching for him, silently begging for more as she molded her body to his. Tugging his T-shirt free of his pants, she pressed her hands beneath. Warm skin greeted her, and she moaned into his mouth. She craved more of that skin next to her.
She shoved the shirt upward. “Take it off,” she panted into his mouth.
Instead, she found herself lifted onto the lab table, her legs spread wide, Sterling between them. And still he kissed her, softly, deeply, then wildly, trailing his lips over her jaw, near her ear, down her neck. He shoved aside her lab coat, strong hands skimming her rib cage and then caressing the curves of her breasts.
Feeling bold in her need, Becca’s hands were touching him anywhere she could, everywhere she could reach. When she finally managed to press her palm over the front of his crotch and trace the ridge of his erection, he moaned and pulled back.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky with desire. And that desire only served to make Becca hotter.
She caressed the hard length of him and found herself smiling. “Are you sure about this?”
He half-growled, half-moaned and kissed her again, long strokes of his tongue promising this was going to be the best sex of her life, and she was ready.
“Not here,” he whispered against her lips. “In bed.” He pulled back to look at her. “My bed. I want you in my bed.”
Something about the possessive caveman way he made that declaration had her darn near trembling with need. “Take me there,” she said, and almost laughed at the pun. He lifted her from the table and took her hand, leading her to the door when his cell phone rang. A soft curse slid past his lips as he fished it out of his pocket—a different phone than she’d seen him use in the past.
“I have to take this,” he said, leaning against the door and pulling her close as he answered, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of letting her go. She loved that feeling, and she curled into him, her hand on his chest…her lips on his neck.
Becca heard the muffled sound of a male voice before Sterling tensed. She leaned back, noting the instant strain etched in his face.
“What’s the address?” he asked, then a few seconds later, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
He snapped the phone shut and surprised her by pulling her close and kissing her. “That’s in case you decide you don’t want me to kiss you anymore when I get back.” He set her away from him and charged toward the cabinet, removing supplies.
Like that could happen. “Back from where? What’s happening?”
“That was the Vegas PD, or rather, my informant,” he said, grabbing an army backpack from the coatrack and filling it with the supplies.
“You have an informant in the Vegas PD?”
“Young guy with a sick mom to take care of,” he said. “I pay him. He helps me save the world. It works for us.” He shoved the bag over his shoulder. “We have another potential ICE fatality. We’re struggling with the government’s incomplete medical records. I’m going to do my best to bring back the body. At the very least get blood samples. But I have to move now. The military has alerts set up with emergency networks for anything that resembles an ICE reaction. It won’t take long for them to seize control of the patient.” He started toward the door.
Becca followed. “I’m going with you.”
He shook his head. “Oh no,” he said, his tone uncompromising. “You aren’t going. It’s too dangerous. Adam’s after you. You know this.”
“There are things I might notice about the patient that you won’t,” she argued. “We don’t have much time to figure out this puzzle, Sterling. I have to be there. I have to use this opportunity to figure out what we’re missing.”
“Even if I would consider it and I won’t, I have to wind-walk to get there before the military.”
Desperation rose in her. This could be important. Critical. Their only hope. “Can’t you transport me?”
“Transporting humans comes with the risk of death.”
Urgently, she made her case. “I’m not like all humans. I’m not even like all ICE users. We’ve proven that. We can’t risk missing something. You have to take me. I’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You don’t know I won’t. One life, my life, versus the country. You know there’s no choice here. I need to go with you. We’re wasting time debating.” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s go.” He hesitated and she added, “I’m going to die anyway. I get to choose how. And I choose to do it saving lives.”
He held his footing, cursed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I must be insane for considering this.”
That was as close to a yes as she was going to get, and Becca acted on it. She rushed to the cabinet and grabbed some extra supplies before hurrying back to Sterling and handing them to him. “Put those in your bag.”
He gave her a brooding stare. “I swear,” he grumbled, “I’ve never known a woman who pulled my strings the way you do.”
Thinking about what Caleb had said about his brother, she tilted her chin upward and repeated his words. “I take that as a compliment.”
Sterling took her hand and pulled her with him. A smile touched her lips at his resignation. She was about to wind-walk, and she was excited about it, not one bit scared. Seemed these days she was dying to live. Or maybe living to die. Either way—she was ready to get that sample.
Less than a minute later, invisible strands of wind slipped inside Neon as the steel security doors opened. Sterling pulled Becca close, struggling for several seconds over his decision to take her with him. He might not often do the expected, but he wasn’t one for doing the stupid either. Taking Becca with him was somewhere in the middle of those two things, probably leaning toward stupid. But he wasn’t exactly big on time for debate right now. This opportunity would come and go while he tied his shoe and kicked the sand, if he let it.
“I’ll be fine,” Becca said, touching his cheek, as if reading his hesitation, or maybe his thoughts. “Let’s just go before we lose this patient.”
Incredible. Un-freaking-believable, in fact. Becca didn’t seem the least bit scared. Didn’t seem to have the concept that wind-walking could be deadly to a human. Sometime between the cancer and this hell with Adam, she’d developed an unnatural tolerance to fear.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Sterling grabbed a hold of Becca and a little faith along with her—seemed he was reaching for that more and more lately. He hit the button to seal the doors, and then faded into the wind.