Page 76 of Under Pressure

“You’re bringing me out of the dark,” he whispered down on her, knowing his day of reckoning had come.

He slowly dialed the number, holding the phone to his ear. She pressed her eyes shut, but before she sunk into his chest, he swore he saw a little smile on her lips.

“9-1-1 emergency,” a voice came through the other side of the line. “Police, fire, ambulance?”

“Police,” he answered.

Chapter Thirty

Sometime before the sun rose, Kendra woke up nearly naked in bed, wearing nothing more than a thin black tank top and matching black panties. How the hell did I get here? Frantic, she reached up and held her throat, feeling the bruising from where that psycho had gripped her, threatening to choke her out at the lab.

But, then…she calmed herself down. She was okay. She was safe. She was home.

And…I’m alone.

Her house was silent.

In the shadows of her bedroom, she touched the back of her head. Surprisingly, she felt a lot better than she’d thought she would. No headache and no blood was a good sign. Some scabbing on the back of her skull seemed to be all that was left of her injury. Delta had really saved her that time, though she didn’t fully remember how. Things had gotten really fuzzy after she’d hit her head, and she only had scraps of memories.

Reaching to her bedside table, she grabbed her phone to check her notifications. Lily had texted her. Someone had called the cops. It had been all over the news. Hunter had been arrested to answer to it all—the murders, the tests. The scientists were going to get a lot of questions. But, despite the fact that the cases were solved, she still felt a weight on her. As she finished reading the messages Lily had sent her, Kendra noted that there was one thing absent from her notifications…

There was no word from the one person she really needed to hear from.

He wasn’t there. He’d left without a word. Par for the course.

She turned in bed, hugging her blanket tight. All she could think about was the past few weeks. Delta…? Well, he’d crushed her heart, again. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she realized just how run-down she was. She’d been chasing a ghost. And with him, she’d always be chasing.

It was laughable that she thought she’d learned her lesson with him. They’d been down that road before. He’d once been all charm, all temptation. She’d given in, given herself to him. It hadn’t ended well. But here she was with her eyes closed, curled into her bed, thinking about how it felt when he’d held her—when he’d saved her.

It all pointed back to something that she desperately wanted to disappear. She wanted to bleach her memories and forget him—forget that he’d ever made her feel that way, forget how crazy she was about him and the real reason why she’d never been with anyone since she’d met him. No one could compare.

“Matteo,” Kendra whispered to herself, pressing her eyes shut, “what have you done to me?”

It was a question she was finally ready to answer. The smack to her head had made her ten times more honest with herself, and she was unable to repress it anymore. He had her number in such a way. She had it so bad. The sweet memories she had replayed like a black and white movie, lulled her into a light sleep.

Slowly falling, she dreamed she was with him, lying in his bed.

He rescued me.

The hazy, sensual dream promised her things. Beside her, in between his sheets, his dark eyes melted her armor as he caressed his rough hand up her arm. He whispered the things she’d always wanted to hear. He’d shown up. He’d proven to her that she wouldn’t be crazy to have faith in him.

Even in the sleepy fantasy, she felt his touch as though it were real. Goosebumps ran up her body and her eyes rolled back. God, it was crazy how much she still wanted him. It was all so fucked up. Her pussy started aching just at the sight of his mouth hovering over hers. She was reminded how amazing it was to taste him, to feel the bristle of his unshaven jaw against her chin.

She fantasized about him slipping his strong hand down the sheets, finding her throbbing clit between her wet lower lips. Gently touching herself and drawing circles around her wetness, she let the sinful dream wash over her, pretending he was right there on top of her.

He kissed her like the first kiss—on the beach. It made her feverish. Pressure and pleasure drew to the tip of her clit, threatening to burst. She was already getting so close to the edge and having the memory of him all around her was intoxicating. She never wanted to wake up. She wanted that dream to go on forever, feeling so damn aroused.

“Matteo,” she moaned as he intensified the kiss.

She bit her lip, arching her back and grinding into the sheets. God, he made her so hot. So needy. All she could do was relish every raunchy night of sex they’d had. The memory of his thick cock when he’d fucked her was the one she needed to let out a deeper moan. She opened her legs wider and felt him drive his fingers inside her hot, aching core. She needed it. She needed him. It wasn’t the first time she’d dreamed of him—and wouldn’t be the last. Secretly, she knew she’d fantasize about him forever.

She let out a wilder cry, the feeling of his touch so real, conjured by the need to feel close to a man who wasn’t there and was never going to be. She was gasping for breath when she felt an orgasm coming, and just as she released, she was startled awake by a loud noise.

Eyes flashing open, she realized it was the noise of her bedroom door crashing open with a real-live Delta standing in the frame, a deeply concerned look on his face. In the early morning rays, his disheveled head crooked left and right, clearly ready to fight someone. Then he focused on her, seeming to realize what was happening and why she’d let out a cry.

Unable to contain her dreamy orgasm, she came right in front of him, showcasing pushed-aside panties and a very wet, aching pussy.

“Shit,” Delta grunted, pacing back yet unable to look away.

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