protection her skinsuit offered between his fingers and her flesh.
“Stop that,” she said, her voice breathy.
His hands froze. “What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t be touching me. Like that,” she added, feeling like a prude.
“I’m sorry,” he said, removing his hands. “I didn’t mean anything improper. Runners are trained in massage.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“I just thought I’d help. You’re hurt.”
Worse than that, she was horny. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, like I said. Just tension.”
A long pause, filled with strained silence. Then Bruce stepped around her. “I’m sorry,” he said again, not looking at her. “If you want to register a complaint with Ops, I understand.”
She sighed. As much as she should make an official complaint, she didn’t want to see him reprimanded. The Academy would dock his pay, strip him of his privileges for two weeks. He didn’t deserve that. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” she said. “It’s just been a long day. I need to unwind.”
He stole a glance at her, like a schoolboy with a crush, then he drew the kitchen chair back and motioned to the seat. “Please?”
She smiled, feeling tired and stupid and wishing she could start the evening over. “Thank you.”
As she sat, he moved her chair in, smooth as any server at a top-notch restaurant. Then he stood by her side, waiting. She unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Thank you,” she said again, looking up at him.
He smiled—nothing wicked or sexy about it now; just a pleased smile of someone who’s happy to have been complimented. “You’re welcome. I meant what I said before. I’m a huge fan, and it’s a true honor to be your Runner.”
“You’re very sweet.” Her mouth felt dry, and her breath caught in her throat. He was more than sweet. He was so damn sexy that she could barely think.
His eyes darkened, and in a very soft, very low voice, he said, “If I may say … it’s really nice seeing your face for a change.”
What … oh, right. She still wasn’t wearing her optiframes.Or her cowl. Looking up into his blue, blue eyes, she said, “That’s nice of you to say.”
He offered her the wineglass. As she took it, her hand brushed his. Once again, she felt shocks jumping from his skin to hers, tingling through the sensitive pads of her fingers. She almost thought it felt too controlled, too precise, and just as she wondered if maybe he wasn’t a normal after all, those shocks worked their way to the core of her body, and her mind whited out in a moment of utter pleasure.
“Jet?”
She wetted her lips with her tongue.
“Jet?” He leaned down, peered into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she murmured, thinking about kissing him. “Just fine.”
She tilted her head up, and he leaned down more—
—and that was when her vidphone chimed.
Jet let out a startled breath. What in the Light had she been thinking?
Bruce straightened up, started to move toward the vidphone.
“Excuse me,” Jet stammered, “I have to get that.” She flew to the phone, nearly bowling Bruce over in the process, and silently berated herself for almost doing something unforgivable. Heroes didn’t take advantage of their Runners. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Worse, it was just wrong.
But that hadn’t mattered; she’d wanted to kiss him. To be kissed by him. Among other things.
Freaking great. Now she’d have to tell Ops to get her a new Runner.
Jet spat out a “Hello” when she answered the call, angrily punching the VISUAL button.
And then she paled when she saw who was on the other end of the connection.
CHAPTER 16
IRIDIUM
When walking the streets of New Chicago, give the sewers a wide berth. It’s the city’s worst-kept secret that the sewers are part of what the locals refer to as the Rat Network … and it’s said that gang-related activity occurs in those tunnels on a daily (and nightly) basis.
The Street-Smart
“Stop that,” she said, her voice breathy.
His hands froze. “What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t be touching me. Like that,” she added, feeling like a prude.
“I’m sorry,” he said, removing his hands. “I didn’t mean anything improper. Runners are trained in massage.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“I just thought I’d help. You’re hurt.”
Worse than that, she was horny. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, like I said. Just tension.”
A long pause, filled with strained silence. Then Bruce stepped around her. “I’m sorry,” he said again, not looking at her. “If you want to register a complaint with Ops, I understand.”
She sighed. As much as she should make an official complaint, she didn’t want to see him reprimanded. The Academy would dock his pay, strip him of his privileges for two weeks. He didn’t deserve that. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” she said. “It’s just been a long day. I need to unwind.”
He stole a glance at her, like a schoolboy with a crush, then he drew the kitchen chair back and motioned to the seat. “Please?”
She smiled, feeling tired and stupid and wishing she could start the evening over. “Thank you.”
As she sat, he moved her chair in, smooth as any server at a top-notch restaurant. Then he stood by her side, waiting. She unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Thank you,” she said again, looking up at him.
He smiled—nothing wicked or sexy about it now; just a pleased smile of someone who’s happy to have been complimented. “You’re welcome. I meant what I said before. I’m a huge fan, and it’s a true honor to be your Runner.”
“You’re very sweet.” Her mouth felt dry, and her breath caught in her throat. He was more than sweet. He was so damn sexy that she could barely think.
His eyes darkened, and in a very soft, very low voice, he said, “If I may say … it’s really nice seeing your face for a change.”
What … oh, right. She still wasn’t wearing her optiframes.Or her cowl. Looking up into his blue, blue eyes, she said, “That’s nice of you to say.”
He offered her the wineglass. As she took it, her hand brushed his. Once again, she felt shocks jumping from his skin to hers, tingling through the sensitive pads of her fingers. She almost thought it felt too controlled, too precise, and just as she wondered if maybe he wasn’t a normal after all, those shocks worked their way to the core of her body, and her mind whited out in a moment of utter pleasure.
“Jet?”
She wetted her lips with her tongue.
“Jet?” He leaned down, peered into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she murmured, thinking about kissing him. “Just fine.”
She tilted her head up, and he leaned down more—
—and that was when her vidphone chimed.
Jet let out a startled breath. What in the Light had she been thinking?
Bruce straightened up, started to move toward the vidphone.
“Excuse me,” Jet stammered, “I have to get that.” She flew to the phone, nearly bowling Bruce over in the process, and silently berated herself for almost doing something unforgivable. Heroes didn’t take advantage of their Runners. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Worse, it was just wrong.
But that hadn’t mattered; she’d wanted to kiss him. To be kissed by him. Among other things.
Freaking great. Now she’d have to tell Ops to get her a new Runner.
Jet spat out a “Hello” when she answered the call, angrily punching the VISUAL button.
And then she paled when she saw who was on the other end of the connection.
CHAPTER 16
IRIDIUM
When walking the streets of New Chicago, give the sewers a wide berth. It’s the city’s worst-kept secret that the sewers are part of what the locals refer to as the Rat Network … and it’s said that gang-related activity occurs in those tunnels on a daily (and nightly) basis.
The Street-Smart
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