Dr. Isobel Madison crossed her legs and continued typing on the new computer, though all she wanted to do was pace the small office and peer outside like a child awaiting the tooth fairy. But she had work to do, and she’d keep her senses about her. After all this time, Greg really was alive. Her soldiers had discovered him after tracking the men trying to find her.
Truth be told, she’d forgotten all about the preteen. What a marvelous job she’d done with him. And to think that he’d somehow found the Lost boys for her.
She bit back a giggle. Life was very often on her side.
Her work would continue, but the procedure was bogging her down. While she had two men—Todd and Elton—doing her bidding, neither had the connections or drive she required to rebuild the program. The men she’d created and trained would help her. Maybe Elton would be a good partner in that. He was certainly driven.
The incentive for the creations from her past should arrive any moment…in the form of young Greg.
Her door opened, and Sheriff Elton Cobb strode in. “Is the dickhead back yet?” he asked.
Isobel forced a smile. “Not yet, and I’ve asked you to remain civil. We need Todd and his men a little longer.” Then the entire Protect group could fry in a volcano for all she cared.
“Do we?” Elton asked, obviously unimpressed with the self-taught soldiers. “Your four soldiers piloted the helicopters and took the boy. You didn’t need the extra Protect morons.”
“This time,” she said smoothly. “Think of Todd’s men as foot soldiers. We need them for strength and numbers right now, but when we restart my program, we may not need them. Or, more likely, we’ll just weed out Todd and his big believers, and use the rest as soldiers and guards.” That was an admirable plan.
“That’s fine, but I need to get back home and to work soon. I’m here because you required help, but at some point you’re coming to me,” Elton said.
She nodded. “That has always been my plan. After I no longer need Todd or his Protect soldiers.”
“If he gets any idea you intend to continue your work, he’ll try to kill you,” Elton said, his muscular hands planting on the desk.
She stood and moved around the desk to lean against him. “Then I expect you to defend me.”
“You know I will,” he said, his blue eyes darkening.
“Of course.”
“I hope you’ll remain with me this time,” he said slowly.
She nodded. He did have sadistic qualities she quite enjoyed. She stretched up onto her toes and pressed her mouth against his.
He bit her.
Pain lanced along her lips, but she allowed it. “You’re becoming predicable,” she murmured.
Wrong thing to say.
He clamped his hands on her arms and yanked her over the desk, turning her and shoving her facedown. A rough hand ripped up her skirt, and after a quick unzipping of his pants, he shoved inside her. “You’re lucky you’re not wearing underwear,” he breathed against her ear.
Pain filled her. She hadn’t been anywhere near ready for him. He gripped her shoulders with bruising fingers and hammered inside her, grunting into her neck. Her face rubbed against her stapler, and she tried to push it away with her chin.
He laughed and grabbed the stapler.
Her body seized.
“What in the world could we do with this?” he asked, embedded in her, not moving.
She shivered but knew not to speak.
He ran the cool metal down her back and over her butt. “Ever been stapled?”
She trembled.
He chuckled and slid it around her hip and over her clit. “You’re gonna come either now or with staples in you.” He pushed the device against her.
She pushed back, twisted, and exploded in an orgasm so hard, tears filled her eyes.
He dropped the stapler, grabbed her hips, and stroked inside her three times, shuddering as he came. Then he pulled out and flipped her around. “You are one sick fuck, you know that?” He leaned down and kissed her lips.
She kissed him back and pulled her clothes back into place. “Look who’s talking.” Then she leaned back, quite satisfied. The darkness in him drew her, and she should probably spend some time studying that fact. When she had time, of course.
He nipped her lip. “I like that you think you’re going to win this.”
She tilted her head and studied him. Sometimes she forgot he wasn’t just a country sheriff. While he certainly lacked her intelligence, sometimes evil held a brilliance of its own. She’d be a fool to underestimate him. “I was hoping we’d win together.”
“Hmm.” He leaned down and retrieved the stapler, opening it and sliding the slightly exposed staple along her knuckles and hand. She curled her fingers around the edge of the desk and tried to ignore the scratches. “Every once in a while, I feel like you’re playing me,” he said.
Of course she was. “Never. Everyone but you.” She held perfectly still.
He flattened his palm over the stapler.