Read Online Illicit Intuitions: Sensory Ops, Book 3 by Nikki Duncan - Free Book Online Page A

with jarring force echoing through her skull.
    Channing handed him the contacts.  
    His hair had been shaved and electrodes were stuck to his head. Dana curled against his side.  
    Him putting the contacts in a safe.
    “What did you do, Dana?” H’s usually steady, now shaky voice pulled Ava from the images. He sounded exhausted. “Where’s Ava?”
    “What did I do?” The dominant snap was back in Dana’s tone coated with a healthy dose of abhorrence. “I didn’t do anything to your hussy girlfriend. What did she do to you?”
    “Stop it.” He sounded a little stronger as the bed creaked beneath his weight. “She didn’t do anything. Where is she?”
    “Are you kidding? You didn’t see you.”
    “It had to be done.”
    What had to be done? What had he done? Why did it feel like he was more in her head than before?
    “Not alone. Never alone.”
    “This was different, Dana.” He sounded stronger by the second. The controlled man from the day before was back. “Where is she?”
    “Over there. What’s she doing here and why is she in my suit?”  
    Ava imagined Dana was glaring hate-filled holes through the wall. The woman certainly seemed to detest her.  
    “She didn’t have her own.” He left the first question unanswered. Why?  
    Dana mumbled something Ava couldn’t make out. He spoke back, again too quietly for her to hear, and a minute later the door opened and closed. As soon as Dana left the room a little of the pressure in Ava’s head eased.  
    Weird.
    “Ava. Are you okay?”
    When had he taken to calling her Ava? When he’d done whatever he’d done to put his memories in her head? No, that wasn’t possible. She was imagining things.  
    “I’m here.” She pushed off the floor, careful not to move too quickly again. “I’m fine.” Maybe.
    “Come here.”
    Yeah, the bossy man in charge of the study was back in control. She moved forward on shaky legs. One trembling foot in front of the other, she walked around the wall to the futon.  
    He was sitting up. More color was in his cheeks, but the aura of vibrancy—of power—that had surrounded him had been damaged. A single gunshot outside and a tumble to the ground couldn’t have been so disastrous.
    “How’s the head?”
    Her hand fluttered up and brushed the knot. She winced. She needed to remember not to attempt touching it. “Hurts like maybe Pudge used it for batting practice.”
    His head popped back. “You know baseball?”
    “A little.” A lot. She shrugged. “I know Carlton Fisk through some family connections.”
    “I wouldn’t have thought it of you.”
    “Proof that appearances aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Besides, it’s not uncommon for athletes from different sports to migrate to one another.” She’d actually been at the party to celebrate Carlton’s Baseball Hall of Fame induction. A super cool night.  
    “No. They’re not.” His gaze locked with hers, as if he had a new and profound insight. He flattened his hand on the cushion beside him. “Come here.”
    Warning! Hazardous danger ahead. Maybe sex. She sat beside him, accepting the gauntlet.  
    His thigh brushed hers. His hair tickled her sandy skin and awakened her senses. Chills coursed across her skin, leaving bumps in their wake. Aware. Aroused.  
    She couldn’t think about that. She needed intel. She needed him away from her before she called in her team.
    “What happened to me? To you?”
    “What do you remember?”
    Aside from shit I shouldn’t have in my head? And memories of what feels like a wicked orgasm? “A gunshot and then you pulling me to the ground.”
    He ducked his head in an apologetic shrug. “Sorry about the head.”
    “It’ll heal.” Her dad had always said it was made of granite anyway. “What did I hit? A titanium boulder?”
    “Sorry to say just a regular rock. I took us down hard and fast.”
    “I guess you get points for having good reflexes.” She tried to recall more details. It only