“Ohhh… Aww… yes, oh that feels good. So good.” Blaine fingers me after sliding some of my juices over my clit. All I want is to be filled up by them. I need to feel them inside of me.
The room door clicks, and a shot of panic hits me. We didn’t deadbolt the damn door. “Ohhh... shit.” I push them both back as Hutton stands frozen near the door. I make eye contact with him and his face transforms from blank to pained and back in the blink of an eye. Blaine doesn’t cover himself, but Matt throws the comforter over his bottom half. “You should knock,” he says in irritation.
Blaine smirks and addresses Hutton, “You’re welcome to join us. No spectators here.” He’s throwing a gauntlet down and I want to jump in to tell Hutton that I’m sorry, but I stop myself when I realize that I want to see how this plays out. He’s made no attempt to hide his interest in me. “Of course, you’re not going to let anyone touch you or touch anyone. But…” Without any regard to being naked, Blaine struts to his luggage where he pulls out a plastic package that he rips open. Then whips the contents across the room at Hutton. Hitting him in the forehead.
“What the hell?” I say.
At the same time Matt says, “Jesus Christ.” I look at the floor to see an eight-inch purple dildo laying at Hutton’s feet. He hasn’t reacted at all.
He bends and picks it up like it’s diseased. Holding it up to eye level, he sneers at Blaine. “What would you like me to do with this?”
Blaine looks over at me and smiles. “That’s for Eden’s pleasure. What do you think you do with it?” I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. What’s he going to do? I’m so wet right now, that I feel it on my thighs.
Matt’s still covered next to me and he looks as perplexed as I am at the showdown between Blaine and Hutton. Before I can open my mouth to say a word, Hutton drops the dildo and kicks it towards the door. “I wouldn’t need a hunk of plastic to make her feel good.” He turns back to me like he’s debating something. Then he grabs the fitted sheet of the bed with both his hands in fists, he pulls the sheet down along with myself and Matt who rolls to a standing position with the comforter covering his groin. I shriek in surprise. I can’t tell if he wants to break my neck or feel me.
Blaine steps towards us, like he thinks he needs to protect me. Matt grabs his arm and shakes his head. “He won’t hurt her.”
A vein has popped out in his neck and I can’t tell if he’s trying to fight an urge to murder me or if it’s something else. “Hu-Hutton?” I stand up in front of him, naked, and only a couple of inches from his well sculpted body.
I’m completely transfixed by him. The stunning light green eyes, the beautiful face, then the juxtaposition of the scar on his neck. He looks down at me like I’m a problem to solve. I just want to touch him. “Earlier it looked like you remembered…” His voice trails off. He leans in slightly and lowers his voice, “If you’re remembering anything keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone.” He steps back and turns away from me slightly. In a cold voice he says, “I’m not in the mood to watch one of your orgies tonight.” My heart cracks. Just one more crack to add to the others that over time have been killing pieces of me.
“Your loss,” Blaine says with disdain as he pulls me back against him. “Fuck off, then, Matt can come see you when we’re done.” Except, now I’m a heartbeat away from crying. Do I remember? Are those dreams I’ve been having, are they real? Because if they are… Hutton may have been my first love. The person that saved me from some unknown threat. And now he wants nothing to do with me.
“Hey.” Matt drops the comforter when Hutton leaves and comes to my side. “Hey… don’t let him get to you. His secrets have secrets. We can pick this back up later.” At least I don’t need to explain that the encounter with Hutton destroyed the mood I was in. “If I don’t catch him while he’s willing to talk to me, I could miss the opportunity.”
30. LUKE/MATT
My cellphone starts to ring as I walk to Hutton’s room located on the other side of the hotel. Prick made me find his room by calling the front desk. “Scholl.” I take a swallow of the hotel complimentary coffee and almost gag at the taste.
“Agent Scholl, this is Bureau Chief Barnes, we had training together a couple of years ago. The reason I’m reaching out is because one of my field agents, Mark Hoyt, gave me your number to call. He’s been working with someone you both know.” This oughta be good. I lean against the wall outside Hutton’s door.
“Yeah, I remember you, Dean. You do realize you’re calling me in the middle of the night, right?” Blowing out a deep breath, I try and prepare for this curve ball that’s sure to be coming. At every turn, since Camp Carroll, I’ve felt off kilter. I wonder if the missed calls from Celia, my ex-fiancée, are about whatever I’m going to find out. Because I’m not calling her back anytime soon. It could be a set-up.
“It’s urgent. That’s why I am currently outside your hotel to speak in person. Lawrence Hutton’s kid wants to meet with us. Has some information.” Well, here’s another surprise to digest.
“I’m at his room. Four nineteen. Just understand that he’s refused to talk to anyone up until tonight, so I’m going to insist a pat down on you. I’m aware that there’s a leak.”
Dean grunts, “It sounds like I have a few things to catch you up on. Be there in a few minutes.”
Hutton answers the door with the cat half wrapped around his neck. At least it appears clean now. “That was quick.” He smirks to himself.
“You killed the mood, what can I say.” Fucking ass. I give the furball with claws and Hutton wide berth when I enter the room. On the table in the room, he has a lockbox, a computer drive, and a laptop. “What type of dramatic interlude do you have planned now? Because it’s all a big game to you, isn’t it?” It rankles me to no end how tight lipped he’s been. He’s even been willing to assume blame for the massacre. I don’t understand why.
Another knock and Hutton lets Dean in. He’s in jeans, a t-shirt, and ballcap. I pat him down and nod. Once we’re both seated at the table and Hutton is leaning against the wall across the room, I finally press him. “It’s the middle of the fucking night, kid. What’s going on?”
Dean speaks up first, “Have you ever heard of the Adam and Eve project?”
“No. What’s that?” I lean back in the chair. Bracing myself, because I sense this is going to take a direction I’m not going to like. Not that I’ve been fond of anything linked to Camp Carroll.
“The FBI, along with some shadow groups started an initiative almost forty years ago. It was initially meant to be a scientific study into manipulating genes. Finding a way to stop gene mutations and discover a cure for cancer, and other terminal illnesses.” Now that he’s telling me about it, I’d heard whispers of gene studies at Quantico, but dismissed it as lunatic conspiracy theories.
I clear my throat. “Initially?” I love that word in conjunction to shady shit, it means that it morphed into nefarious things. I’m about to be very fucking unhappy.
“Yes,initiallythe purpose was one of advancing genetics, scientific research, and curing disease. But then, a benefit was seen by a select few within the FBI and some very powerful families with money and knowledge on the subject, to…” Dean takes a breath. “To start a laboratory, a research facility, dedicated to finding people with the right ‘markers’ in their genes to test.” Dean sucks his lips in. “Still follow me?”
Hutton sits on the side of the bed and pets the cat. I almost fall off my chair when I realize what I’m watching. He’s been touching the cat… he had him under his shirt… what the actual fuck? “Okay… what do you mean by ‘markers’?”
“A researcher with special interest in genetics isolated a marker on a very select few people’s DNA. Now… DNA testing and innovation at the time was limited… or so the public thought, but this marker was nicknamed the Adam gene. It withstood the mutation, and other tests showed it to degrade at a much slower rate, it withstood viruses and bacteria. It became very valuable information. The government immediately classified it.” Dean takes a breath and I sit forward with my forearms on my thighs. Hutton doesn’t even seem to be listening.
