Shadowdance(57)

Mary stayed. Transfixed. Yearning. I want to be the one doing that. She coalesced further, until she could feel her ghostly palms pressing against phantom skirts. It made no sense. He was horrid. She didn’t care. She wanted to fondle Jack Talent’s cock.

The soft slap of flesh working against flesh, and Talent’s light pants, filled the air. One arm came down to the basin, bracing, his muscles flexing. His expression was one of near agony, his lips parted.

His hips were working now, rocking and thrusting his cock into his clenched fist, and he grunted, small, helpless sounds. He undid her with his magnificence and the unfettered passion he let loose. It felt strangely intimate, as though she were locked in the battle with him, sharing the moment in some small way. Equally, she was utterly apart from him, watching without touching, spying without his knowledge. The divergence rattled her soul.

The massive muscles of his thighs twitched and bunched, and his heavy cods swayed with the force of each tug. The knuckles bracing him up turned white with strain. And that cock, so engorged now that the fat head was nearly purple. As if it were weeping for release, a gleaming drop of moisture welled from the tip and rolled down like a tear. Talent’s thumb swept over it, spreading it around, making the head gleam. Mary’s soul flared white-hot. Had she a mouth, she would be crying out, begging for mercy.

It was too much. And not enough, because she wanted to touch him. Her whole being strained closer, watching as his buttocks clenched and his calves lifted. A series of guttural, helpless groans broke from his lips, his fist positively slamming over his poor, abused cock. Then he came, all those glorious muscles bunching hard and tight. Her mind went blank.

A pregnant stillness settled over the room. Jack leaned forward, shaking and hunched over the basin as if his legs might give out. His chest heaved, his abdomen taut and quivering with each breath. And then his dark eyes, glittering in the reflection of the mirror, looked right at her. As if she were flesh.

Sheer terror, tinged with hot humiliation, prickled through her being as his husky voice lit over the room. “Was it good for you, too?”





Chapter Sixteen





Dread was an emotion well known to Mary. But not like this. It permeated her bones, made her movements lax. Every step she took was an exercise of will. Her gown weighed a ton, and the heavy fabric tangled about her limbs as if trying to hold her back. She appreciated the favor. Yet she walked on, aware of the very air about her and the fact that, with each step, she was closer to facing Jack Talent.

Like a rank coward, she’d stayed home far past the hour at which she was to meet him. Now it was going on luncheon time, and headquarters was all but deserted. Perhaps he wouldn’t be there. Perhaps he’d gone out on his own. She could report in and go out on her own as well. But she knew better than to hope. His presence changed the vibrations of the building. The strong souls could do that. And he was waiting.

Ye gods. Her face positively burned. Every moment of the night before was etched in her memory, as sharp as a blade. She did not have to close her eyes to see his molded torso, or the water trickling in glistening drops along that honed flesh. She could not stop the vivid, heat-inducing image of his cock, thick, hard, angry red at the tip.

Her step bobbled, her knees weakening. Mary fisted her skirt. She could not face him. Last night she’d fled so hard and fast that she’d slammed back into her body with enough force to make it buck.

The tendons straining at his neck, the sounds of his pants and the slap of flesh against flesh. Her breath grew agitated once more. Pressing a hand to a nearby wall, she stopped. Beneath her closed lids, illicit images played out before her. A strangled sound left her lips before she gathered her courage and pushed off the wall.

Her heels clicked along the marble corridor, and then she halted so abruptly that her skirts swayed forward. Talent leaned against the doorframe that led to the main offices. His big body appeared at ease, yet when his dark eyes homed in on her, they narrowed with tight focus, and his jaw tensed. Color flooded his face as his lips pressed together. He’d flushed when he reached completion as well.

Mary’s head swam, her lips going numb. Gods, she was going to swoon. Sucking in a breath, she turned and fled, but not before seeing Talent launch forward, his expression twisted with outrage.

“Chase!” His deep voice cracked out like a shot. “Get your arse back here and face me!”

She could not. Her steps quickened. And so did his, hard and loud behind her. She could all but feel him bearing down on her, a wildcat running her to ground. Her throat burned raw.

“Stop.” His voice was too close, a rumble laced with equal parts anger and annoyance. “Now. Or I’ll be forced to stop you.”