Read Online Black On Black (Quentin Black Mystery #3) by JC Andrijeski - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: JC Andrijeski
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when he was awake. He still claimed he was just doing a time-limited contract. Six months, then he was out.
But, like the voice said in the back of my mind, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
I knew they had no intention of really letting him go.
Black? My jaw firmed.
I didn’t want to distract him. I knew I could be putting him in danger, given what I’d just seen, but like Black himself, I had my doubts Ian would be coming. Lucky sent him on a snipe hunt––probably just because he could, to keep Black tired and over-stressed.
I also knew this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Black? Are you there? I prodded him a bit with my mind, sharper. Hey, I need to talk to you. You there? BLACK.
I felt his presence filter around me slowly, wrapping around me, enveloping me in heat and light and affection. I also felt the caution there, and the fact that his mind remained split, still halfway focused on the floor of the cathedral below the barrel of his tranquilizer rifle.
More than that, I felt him pretending he’d been asleep, that I’d woken him up.
He did it to reassure me, I knew. He also did it to keep me from asking questions.
It didn’t reassure me though. Not even a little.
Hey baby, he sent, his thoughts sleepy-sounding. What’s up?
Warmth swam through me, liquid affection.
Gods, I’m hard already. He said it teasingly, pulling on me, but I felt a flicker of truth in his words. When I didn’t answer, his thoughts sharpened. What is it? What’s wrong, Miriam?
I fought back my reaction to feeling so much of him.
I also fought back my reaction to his blatant lie.
Shaking my head without really answering him, I stared up at the darkened ceiling, only faintly lit by the moon. I was high enough here, in his penthouse apartment, that no other buildings leaked light into where I was.
Are you at my place? he sent.
That heat on him intensified, coiling around my body.
As I closed my eyes, letting him in, his presence turned more pulling, that longing shifting from less of a means of distracting me and more into the real thing. That warmer affection morphed into an aching kind of pain, what Black called “separation pain.”
He told me seers experienced that pain when they wanted sex.
He said sometimes it wasn’t really about sex though––it could be about affection too, or simply a desire for a more intense connection with someone, sexual or not. Kids who got separated from their parents too young got it. Siblings who lost siblings could get it, too. Close friends could get it as well, along with lovers and family.
He said it could also be a more general wanting of affection and connection and physical contact. He said sometimes it could also be very specific to a particular person.
With him and me, he admitted, it was both.
I was almost used to the sensation now.
Unlike regular physical pain, it felt more like a confused mix of pain and desire and even loneliness. Sometimes it got so bad I couldn’t eat. I remembered feeling like this when Zoe died. I remembered learning to stifle it when my parents died, too.
Whatever it was, it was getting worse lately. For me, at least.
Gods, Miri, he sent, as if hearing me. You have no idea how fucking badly I want to be there right now...
His words brought it back, the memory of what I’d seen, just minutes before.
Is it daytime where you are? I asked.
Yes... I saw him glance at his watch. Eleven-thirty. Coming on noon... I watched him yawn behind my eyes, knowing that was put on too, although he did feel tired, more tired than he was admitting to me. I had a late night. Surveillance. Why?
I noted the information, even as I glanced at my own clock.
He’d never been that careless before. He really was tired.
Are you at home, in the apartment? That place with the fireplace?
Yes. His thoughts grew wary. I felt him going over what he’d told me already, what I’d asked. His mind grew warier still. Why?
I sighed, fingering the pendant around
But, like the voice said in the back of my mind, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
I knew they had no intention of really letting him go.
Black? My jaw firmed.
I didn’t want to distract him. I knew I could be putting him in danger, given what I’d just seen, but like Black himself, I had my doubts Ian would be coming. Lucky sent him on a snipe hunt––probably just because he could, to keep Black tired and over-stressed.
I also knew this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Black? Are you there? I prodded him a bit with my mind, sharper. Hey, I need to talk to you. You there? BLACK.
I felt his presence filter around me slowly, wrapping around me, enveloping me in heat and light and affection. I also felt the caution there, and the fact that his mind remained split, still halfway focused on the floor of the cathedral below the barrel of his tranquilizer rifle.
More than that, I felt him pretending he’d been asleep, that I’d woken him up.
He did it to reassure me, I knew. He also did it to keep me from asking questions.
It didn’t reassure me though. Not even a little.
Hey baby, he sent, his thoughts sleepy-sounding. What’s up?
Warmth swam through me, liquid affection.
Gods, I’m hard already. He said it teasingly, pulling on me, but I felt a flicker of truth in his words. When I didn’t answer, his thoughts sharpened. What is it? What’s wrong, Miriam?
I fought back my reaction to feeling so much of him.
I also fought back my reaction to his blatant lie.
Shaking my head without really answering him, I stared up at the darkened ceiling, only faintly lit by the moon. I was high enough here, in his penthouse apartment, that no other buildings leaked light into where I was.
Are you at my place? he sent.
That heat on him intensified, coiling around my body.
As I closed my eyes, letting him in, his presence turned more pulling, that longing shifting from less of a means of distracting me and more into the real thing. That warmer affection morphed into an aching kind of pain, what Black called “separation pain.”
He told me seers experienced that pain when they wanted sex.
He said sometimes it wasn’t really about sex though––it could be about affection too, or simply a desire for a more intense connection with someone, sexual or not. Kids who got separated from their parents too young got it. Siblings who lost siblings could get it, too. Close friends could get it as well, along with lovers and family.
He said it could also be a more general wanting of affection and connection and physical contact. He said sometimes it could also be very specific to a particular person.
With him and me, he admitted, it was both.
I was almost used to the sensation now.
Unlike regular physical pain, it felt more like a confused mix of pain and desire and even loneliness. Sometimes it got so bad I couldn’t eat. I remembered feeling like this when Zoe died. I remembered learning to stifle it when my parents died, too.
Whatever it was, it was getting worse lately. For me, at least.
Gods, Miri, he sent, as if hearing me. You have no idea how fucking badly I want to be there right now...
His words brought it back, the memory of what I’d seen, just minutes before.
Is it daytime where you are? I asked.
Yes... I saw him glance at his watch. Eleven-thirty. Coming on noon... I watched him yawn behind my eyes, knowing that was put on too, although he did feel tired, more tired than he was admitting to me. I had a late night. Surveillance. Why?
I noted the information, even as I glanced at my own clock.
He’d never been that careless before. He really was tired.
Are you at home, in the apartment? That place with the fireplace?
Yes. His thoughts grew wary. I felt him going over what he’d told me already, what I’d asked. His mind grew warier still. Why?
I sighed, fingering the pendant around
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