Karma Girl Part 23

I knocked on the window, and Striker waved me in. I pushed open the door.

"Hey, I thought you had a business meeting tonight."

"It got moved to next week."

"Oh." I shifted from one foot to the other. "Care if I watch you? I need to unwind before I go to bed."

"Help yourself."

I settled on the padded floor in a corner of the room. Striker resumed his stance. He dodged and darted like a panther on the prowl, and his swords sliced through the air as he cut down enemy after enemy.

Suddenly, he turned and threw one of the swords behind him. It landed in the middle of a target. He made a strange motion with his wrist. The sword flew back out of the target and landed in his hand.

Striker went through another series of attacks before landing in a low crouch.

I clapped. Striker straightened and bowed to me.

"Very impressive. I think you killed everything in your way."

"Thanks. That's the plan." He wiped the glistening sweat from his forehead.

I glanced at the two swords dangling from his hands. "How do they work? I've always wondered."

"Get up, and I'll show you."

Striker put one of the swords on a nearby rack, then offered his hand to me. I took it, and he pulled me up. My body brushed against his, and his musky scent filled my nose. A warm sensation flooded my KarmaGirl.

veins, and my whole body tingled. I stepped back.

Striker held out a sword, and I took it. Although it was made out of some silver metal, the weapon was surprisingly lightweight. It curved a bit at the end, like a scimitar, and the simple, unadorned pommel fit nicely into my hand. I swung the sword back and forth a few times. It felt as light as a pencil.

Striker reached for the sword, and I gave it back to him. Our fingers touched for a brief moment. A jolt of electricity zinged through me. The air between us hummed and sparked and snapped. Striker cleared his throat and pointed to the pommel. He slid open a small compartment.

"The swords each contain a microchip in the hilt, along with a propulsion motor," he explained. "These microchips are linked to the one in the insignia on my costume." He pointed to the F5 shape st.i.tched across his leather-bound chest. "I control the swords with nerve impulses. In other words, I move my hand a certain way, and the swords automaticallycome back to me. It's something Henry and I dreamed up."

"Amazing," I said. "I always thought they were magical or something."

Striker put the sword away and laughed. The warm, husky sound made tingles shoot through my body.

"Not quite."

I stared at him, curious to know more about the s.e.xy superhero. "So, how did you get your powers? If you don't mind my asking."

"I don't mind. My father's construction company was erecting a building near the Bigtime Nuclear Power Plant. Travis and I decided to go down to the site one night and goof off, ride our skateboards and bikes around, things like that. We were thirteen." Striker's eyes grew dark and gray with memories.

"My father warned us not to get too close to the edge of the site that bordered the power plant. There were all kinds of pools of radioactive waste and other nasty things there. Of course, we did get too close.

I rode my bike down a hill, lost control, and fell into one of the pools. It looked like green sludge, only it glowed. I couldn't swim very well then. The sludge was thick and heavy, and I thought I was going to drown. Travis didn't hesitate. He dove in and pulled me out. We crawled back up the hill."

"I don't remember much after that, just lying there and feeling things happen in my body. I pa.s.sed out.

When I came to, my senses were heightened. Even though it was after midnight, I could see in the dark.

I could smell things better, hear better. Everything seemed amped up, magnified. I stumbled around in the dark for a few minutes, trying to get my bearings. I fell and cut my hand. I looked at it, and the skin began to . . . move. The wound sewed itself shut. Later, I realized I had the ability to regenerate or heal quickly."

"What about Travis?"

"He'd been affected by whatever was in that pool too. He eventually woke up. When he did, the wind picked up. It howled around us like a tornado. I was scared to death, but Travis never moved a muscle.

He seemed . . . comforted by the wind somehow."

"You know the rest of the story. He became Tornado, and I became Striker. Eventually, we hooked up with Fiera and Mr. Sage. Hermit joined the group later. The Fearless Five were born. But no more. Now, Tornado's gone. My best friend is gone. Forever." His voice ended with a whisper.

And it's all my fault. I put a hand on his arm, wanting to comfort the superhero. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Striker stared into my face. His eyes burned as bright as two silver stars. I moved closer to him, drawn by his hypnotic gaze.

"Carmen," he whispered.

KarmaGirl.

Striker leaned down and kissed me. A thousand things sprang to life inside me. Guilt, desire, heat, longing, more desire. I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him closer. Striker growled in response. This felt good-right somehow. For once, the voice inside my head didn't chatter at me to stop or keep my distance from the hunky superhero. Maybe I just couldn't hear it over the rapid thumping of my heart. Maybe I didn't want to hear it.

The kiss deepened. Our tongues dueled back and forth. Teasing. Tasting. Tempting. Striker picked me up as though I weighed nothing and pulled me closer. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his hard body flex beneath my own. Striker's hands moved to cup my bottom, and a low growl escaped his throat.

"I want you, Carmen. Heaven help me, but tonight, I need you."

I pulled back and stared into his eyes. Guilt, desire, longing. All those emotions and more swirled in the silvery depths. The same emotions reflected in my own eyes. The safe thing to do, the sane thing to do, would have been to stop. To walk away. To pretend like this never happened. To pretend like there was nothing between us.

But I'd never been one to play it safe. I didn't care about the past or the future or my own bad karma with men. All that mattered was the two of us and this moment, these feelings between us.

"Then take me to your room," I whispered. "Take me there. Now."

Striker didn't have to be told twice. We were outside the door to his suite before I knew exactly how we'd gotten there. I twisted the k.n.o.b open. Striker carried me inside and kicked the door shut with his heavy boot. He set me down in front of him, and I moved back into his arms. I drew his head down to mine, delving into the hot, moist depths of his welcoming mouth. Striker's hands roamed up and down my back, kneading, caressing, sculpting. His erection pressed into my thigh, letting me know he wanted me as much as I wanted him. It was nice to be wanted. Very, very nice.

He walked me backward until my legs. .h.i.t the edge of the bed. Striker leaned over me, and I let gravity do the rest. I sank onto the bed and pulled Striker down on top of me. The weight of his hard body on mine only fueled my desire.

Striker rained hungry kisses down my neck. Cold chills swept through my hot, aching body. I tangled my fingers in his thick, black hair. It felt smoother than satin. Striker moved back up to my mouth, and we exchanged another long, heated kiss that left me panting for breath. We broke apart for a moment.

Striker's eyes glowed like white-hot coals, contrasting with the black mask that covered his chiseled face.

I tugged off his mask and threw it aside. "I want Sam Sloane to make love to me tonight. Not Striker."

"You've got us both, Carmen. You've got us both," he whispered before capturing my mouth with his again.

We lay there on the bed kissing for a long time. Slow kisses, deep kisses, lingering kisses.

Sam sat up and pulled me onto his lap. "I want to taste you, Carmen. All of you."

He drew my T-shirt up over my head. I shivered as the cool air hit my bare skin. We kissed once more, and then he reached around my back and undid the clasp on my bra. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s spilled into his smooth, waiting hands. I gasped at his firm touch.

"You're so beautiful," Sam whispered.

He leaned down and took my nipple into his hot, wet mouth. I arched my back, letting out little moans of pleasure. His other hand moved down to the clasp of my jeans and farther on into my panties. I rose up on my knees and parted my legs. He plunged his fingers inside me. Sam stroked me, slow at first, KarmaGirl.

drawing lazy circles and figure eights with his nimble fingers. I whimpered. It was so pleasurable it was almost painful. I felt like a champagne cork about to pop from all the built-up pressure. Finally, I did.

"Sam!" I screamed and shuddered my release.

As I lay there, spent and euphoric, Sam continued on with his explorations. The rest of my clothes followed my T-shirt and bra and sailed to the floor. I gave myself over to Sam's masterful touch.

Kissing. Licking. Caressing. From head to toe, he explored my body as if I were some unknown continent he'd just discovered and was eager to conquer.

I happily surrendered.

But I burned for him, yearned to touch him the way he was touching me, longed to feel him inside me.

My fingers probed and prodded and plucked, but I couldn't quite find a way to get through the thick leather that covered his body.

"d.a.m.n superhero suit," I muttered.

Sam laughed. "Let me."

He stood up. Sam grabbed some sort of zipper or toggle and yanked off the top part of the suit, exposing his perfect chest. He shucked off his boots, peeled off his pants, and stood there, naked before me.

I eyed his sculpted chest, his rippling six-pack abs, his long, hard erection. My mouth went as dry as a cotton field in the summertime. The man was beautiful, perfect, gorgeous. A true Adonis come to life.

And he wanted me. I still couldn't believe it.

Sam came back to bed and reached for me. I pushed him onto his back, avoiding his seeking hands.

"Oh no," I said in a wicked voice. "It's my turn to play."

So I did. Teasing. Tasting. Tempting. Tormenting him just the way he had done to me. I ran my tongue down his chest, following the trail of dark hair that led southward. Sam smelled of musk and tasted of salty sweat. The combination was more intoxicating than any drug I'd ever had. I closed my hand around him, stroking his hard, swollen shaft.

"Carmen!" His fingers twisted the silken sheets beneath us.

"What?" I asked in a taunting tone. "Am I doing something wrong? Maybe you'd like it better if I did something like this." I ran my tongue up and down him.

He moaned in response. I continued my ministrations.

I loved the feel of him, the smell, the taste. He filled up my senses until there was nothing else.

"That's enough of that," he finally growled.

Sam reached over, yanked open the nightstand drawer, and drew out a condom. Superspeed must have been another one of his powers, because he had it on before I could blink or mention that I was on the pill.

Sam grabbed my hands. He pulled me up on top of him, flipped me over, and slid inside me all in one smooth motion. I gasped at the full length of him filling me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and Sam began to move over me. I met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust, moan for moan.

We moved faster, harder together. The bed rocked back and forth in time. We called out each other's names and rode that final wave of pa.s.sion to its ultimate destination.

Afterward, we lay there in silence, nestled in each other's arms.

"Wow," I said when I got my breath back. "That was certainly something."

"Yes, it was." Sam leaned up on his elbow. His silver eyes glowed in the semidarkness. "I don't know what it is about you, Carmen, but I just can't seem to control myself whenever you're around."

I laughed. "Ditto."

KarmaGirl.

I turned over to stare at him and felt him harden against my thigh. I arched an eyebrow. "No way. You can't be ready to do that again."

Sam grinned. His fingers trailed down my body and slid inside me, making slow and steady circles.

"Don't you know endurance is one of my superpowers?"

I shook my head, unable to breathe, unable to concentrate on anything else except the heat roaring through my body.

So Sam showed me exactly what he meant.

Five more fabulous times.

The next morning, I rolled over and b.u.mped into something warm and hard. My eyes popped open. Sam snuggled next to me, his face calm and smooth in sleep.

For a moment, I just looked at him. His face, his chest, his glorious body. My inner voice sang with happiness. Somehow, in the course of the past few weeks, Sam Sloane had come to mean a great deal to me. Somehow, he'd become my friend and my lover.

And what a lover he was. The s.e.x had been fantastic. Everything I'd ever dreamed of and then some.

But there was more to it than that. I cared about Sam. A lot. More than I wanted to admit to myself.

More than was wise, given my track record with men, especially superheroes.

I was falling in love with him.

And I didn't know what to do about it.

I thought about the puzzle, trying to make the pieces fit together in some sort of order. But the edges were too rough, too raw, too new. I couldn't make sense out of my feelings.

Since I didn't know the answer to my silent questions, I rolled over and eyed the clock on the nightstand.

After ten. I groaned. I hadn't meant to sleep so late. Then again, I hadn't planned on staying up most of the night making love to a superhero either. Funny how things never turned out the way you expected.

That was karma for you. I just wondered how I was going to end up paying for my glorious night with Sam. What cruel thing would fate throw my way?

I shoved that thought aside and focused on the present. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. Sam's silver eyes opened. They brightened at the sight of me.

"Hey, sleepyhead."