by Laura Kaye
He shook his head. “Should I?”
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
“What is?”
“You don’t get that one either, do you?”
He swallowed his last bite of strawberry ice cream, studying her in return. “I am failing some test right now, yes?”
She shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”
His body stirred at the idea. He settled his spoon in the empty bowl, crossed his arms over his chest, and met her inquisitive gaze. “I like the sound of that.”
A lovely pink arose on her cheeks. “Oh.” Her gaze flickered to his lips.
He gave in to a small smile, but it fell just as quickly as the conversation drifted in from the living room. Everyone else was in there, now debating how to heal Chrysander’s hypothermia.
His gut clenched. As if he weren’t indebted to his youngest brother enough for saving his life, Chrysander’s condition was his fault. He wanted to help, but because their winds and their natures were extreme opposites, he was the last god that could be of any use in improving his situation.
He loathed this feeling of uselessness, of helplessness.
But with every swallow of the ice cream, strength and power had returned to him. Thank the gods Zephyros had the ability to heal the kinds of wounds which had torn apart his body. It made the decision to return to Owen and Megan’s easy—a decision upon which Boreas had insisted in case Eurus decided to attack his son’s family. And it also gave them the ability to stick together, which Aeolus’s presence made possible—he had the ability to quell the storms that would’ve normally erupted when multiple Anemoi gathered in one place. Given Eurus’s madness, his apparent alliance with the Harpies, and Devlin’s treachery, they needed the strength in numbers.
Devlin. When Boreas had first emerged from Gibraltar, he’d seen him, standing on the edge of the cliff. The boy’s eyes flashed black, the same kind of deadness that inhabited his malevolent brother’s gaze, and watched as the Harpies swooped in and attacked from behind.
Zephyros’s instincts had apparently been right on the money where Eurus’s eldest son was concerned.
Had Devlin been playing Aeolus all along?
Who could say? It hardly mattered now. Even though Father still argued that the situation might not have been what it appeared, it was a risk they couldn’t take.
Which left them exactly nowhere.
Owen entered the kitchen, followed by a number of the others. “How are you?” he asked, his mismatched eyes serious.
“I will be fine. Worry not.”
He shrugged one big shoulder. “Can’t be helped.”
Boreas nodded. “Yes.” He looked at the group assembled around the room. Except for Zephyros, who had gone to collect his wife, and their shared subordinate Skiron, god of the Northwest Wind, almost all of the Anemoi were here—a highly unusual occurrence. “What is going on?”
“Chrys is still”—Owen glanced at Tabitha—“struggling to get warm. Laney’s now freezing, herself.”
Boreas’s gaze dropped to the table, to the empty bowl… Wait. “Something hot. Is he conscious enough to drink uh, uh…” He struggled to name an appropriate drink.
“Hot chocolate? Hot tea?” Tabitha offered.
“Yes, precisely.” He stared an extra moment at the woman he’d admired from afar all these long months. Trapped in the middle of an impossible situation, she’d kept her cool and helped his family. As if he needed more reasons to find her appealing. He gave her a smile.
Owen nodded. “It’s worth a try.”
Megan walked into the kitchen. “What is?”
His son turned to her. “Could you make Chrys something hot to drink? A lot of it?”
She squeezed his hand. “Of course.”
“Or—” Tabitha pressed her fingers to her lips. “I don’t want to interfere.”
“Not at all. What is it?” Boreas asked.
“If what he needs is a way to get really warm, really fast, I have a hot tub.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Ready to go?” Boreas asked, crouched at his side.
Chrys looked up at his oldest brother, more filled with relief at his survival than he could articulate. He gave a tight nod.
To his right, footsteps padded down the stairs. “What’s going on?”
Laney.
Chrys turned his head. She stood on the landing in a T-shirt and shorts, the dagger in her hand. Gods, she was so damn beautiful. His chest ached with it, with his desire for her. He wanted to wrap himself around her and never let her go.
The yearning was totally foreign, but that didn’t make it any less real. His brain was too fogged to know exactly what to make of it, though.
“Tabitha has a hot tub next door. We’re going to try using that to heat Chrys up,” Boreas said.
She nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“Would you like to come, Laney?” Boreas asked.
Chrys studied her, nearly holding his breath to see what she’d say.
“That’s okay. I don’t want to be in the way.”
Chrys frowned. She’d just risked herself for him. Again. No one had ever so frequently and selflessly been there for him the way she had these past couple weeks. He could never think of her as “in the way.” The idea revolted his soul.
Her lip quivered and she hugged herself with her free hand.
“You’re still cold,” he said, the realization releasing his protective instincts. “Come. You need the heat, too.”
When she didn’t respond, Boreas said, “He is right. Come down and hold out your hand.”
He looked to his brother. “Give her a minute to adjust. Her sight returns when she’s in the elements. It’s a little jarring.”
Boreas studied him a moment, his gaze too wise, too knowing for comfort. “Okay.”
Slowly, Laney descended to the bottom. She extended her left hand, palm down. “What do I do with this?” She raised the knife in her right.
Chrys pushed out from under the covers. “I’ll take it,” he said, accepting the dagger. “And move your necklace so it doesn’t touch your skin.”
She pulled it so it lay on top of her shirt.
“Ready?” Boreas asked. They both nodded. “Sorry I’m the only one here to do this, Chrysander. Father is busy holding off storms, and Zephyros has not yet returned.”
In his current condition, Boreas’s touch was likely to be uncomfortable, but he shook his head. He’d take an eternity of discomfort to know his brother was safe. “I’m glad you’re here, you dig?”
Boreas took their hands. His northern touch was a white-hot bite on Chrys’s still-icy skin. He gritted his teeth as they shifted into the elements. But the distance they traveled was short and the torment was over in an instant.
He crouched naked next to the in-ground tub, the water bubbling and throwing off the most fantastic steam. Except for a soft ring of lights underneath the water, darkness surrounded him. How long had he been out of it?
He looked to his right and left. Alone. “B, what are you doing?” Why hadn’t they—
His brother and Laney appeared beside him.
Laney’s expression was emotional, awed. “Thank you,” she whispered to Boreas.
For what?
Boreas nodded and turned to Chrys. “You need help in?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, ignoring the muscle fatigue and aching shivers he couldn’t control. “Get out of here before you melt.”
He arched an eyebrow. “We have this property surrounded now, too. Take as long as you want. Summon me if you need anything.” He disappeared.
Laney slipped her amulet back under her shirt.
“What did you thank him for?”
Her gaze lifted to his, a blush painting her cheeks. She licked her lips. “He held on to me…so I could look at you, so I could see you.”
The emotion in her voice wrapped around his heart. He thought of the night of the meeting, when he’d pulled
her into the elements so she could put faces to all the voices she was hearing. She’d seen them all, except him, beyond what her limited vision allowed. “No doubt I look like shit,” he said, struggling against the seriousness of the moment.
She shook her head. “You’re gorgeous. Although, I already knew that.”
He frowned, unsure how to respond to the yearning in her startlingly blue eyes, slipped into the tub, and groaned.
Hail to Zeus and all the Olympians. It was pure, glorious heaven. The heat was life-giving, restoring, and soothed his cold-ravaged body so thoroughly all he could do was feel. He let himself sink under completely, the rolling hot water providing the all-encompassing warmth the blankets had not.
Laney’s voice sounded as if from a distance. She splashed into the water. Her hand hit his arm and then she grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him up. “Chrys!”
He broke the surface and sucked in a gulp of air. Whirling, he searched out the source of her alarm. “What?”
“I thought—” She pressed her fist to her mouth.
What? He replayed the last few moments. He got in, went under— Oh. “You thought…I was drowning?” His gaze dragged over her T-shirt. Her nipples pushed enticingly against the wet material. She’d waded in with all her clothes on. Trying to protect him.
Laney nodded, her expression full of concern…and something else. Something he didn’t want to examine too closely. Because damn if it didn’t make him want a whole lot of things he really shouldn’t want, not if he was to do right by her.
“I’m fine.” Taking her hand, he guided her to one of the benches along the side. “Sit. The water will warm you.” He almost urged her to take her wet clothes off, but thought better of it. Already, the hot water was filling him with strength, restoring his power, sending delicious heat flowing through his veins. The steam carried her warm citrus scent. He breathed it in, wanting more of it, more of her. His cock came to life. Before he did something stupid and selfish, he turned, crossed to the opposite side, and sank onto his own bench.
A wet slap made him look up.
Oh, damn.
Laney had taken off her shorts and tossed them on the wooden planking. As he watched, she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her bare breasts underneath. Water beaded and ran down her skin as she reached to deposit the clothing behind her. The underwater lights cast an intriguing pattern of highlights and shadows over her body, one that made him want to explore all the dark parts with his fingers, and tongue.
Clearly, he felt more himself already.
“I’m glad I can see the light you give off. Between the dark, the glare of the spa lights, and the steam, I can’t see anything else.”
Can’t see? She’d charged sight unseen into the water after him? “How did you know I’d gone under?” he asked, trying to hold back the anger building in his chest. Why? Why did she keep risking herself for him?
“Your aura got dimmer for a moment. And then you didn’t respond when I said your name.” Her breath caught. “When you first got back to Megan and Owen’s, your aura was so faint I couldn’t find you.”
The compassion. The protectiveness toward him. The affection so plain on her face. It was all too much.
“Stop it, Laney. Just stop.” He hated the gruffness of his words, but couldn’t control it.
Her jaw dropped open. “What?”
“Stop…” He tugged his fingers through his wet hair. Tempting me to give in. Tormenting me with things I can never have but want so desperately I can’t breathe. Desire and regret lodged a knot in his throat.
A range of emotions played over her face. Hurt. Rejection. Anger.
Determination.
Laney pushed into the center of the pool. He sat up straight in his seat, his back coming hard against the tub’s side.
“What do you want me to stop doing, Chrysander? Huh?” She waded closer and stopped right in front of him. “Do you want me to stop caring? Do you want me to stop worrying about you when, for the third time since we’ve met, your brother has tried to kill you? And nearly succeeded? Do you want me to stop thinking about making love with you? About how good you felt inside me?”
“Stop,” he said again, bracing his hands against the walls to restrain the urges her words were letting loose, heartfelt urges that warred with every bit of his common sense.
She pushed closer, her legs skimming the insides of his spread thighs. “I can’t stop. I wouldn’t want to even if I could. I lo—”
He lunged for her and claimed her in a devouring, soul-stirring kiss. He knew what was about to come out of her mouth, because she was wearing the emotion on her face, in her eyes. He just couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t ready for it. He might never be ready for it because he wanted to hear the words so damn bad.
Laney moaned into the kiss. Cradling her face, he drew her in closer, plundered her mouth thoroughly and deeply with his tongue. He poured every bit of suppressed longing into the kiss until she was swaying, jostled by the flowing, bubbling water. She stumbled and threw her arms out for balance. But what she didn’t do was try to touch him.
As if he didn’t already care more than he should, at that moment he felt what only could be called love for Laney Summerlyn.
She pulled her lips free and gasped. “I want you. So much.”
Arousal, need, desire stormed through him until his body was strung tight, a battle between what was right and what he wanted raging within.
Gently, she removed his hands from her face. She brushed by him and he frowned. She was leaving. Her loss was like a sucker punch to the gut, but it was for the best. No matter that she was taking his whole world with her.
Laney climbed onto the bench. “You want me, too. I know you do. I don’t even have to see you to know it. I feel it.”
The words, so different from what he expected, sent his brain scrambling.
As he watched, Laney spread her knees on the bench and braced her hands against the tub’s edge. She looked over her shoulder. “Take what you want.”
Her body drew him like a magnet. And then finally, finally, he surrendered to what they both wanted.
Hunching himself around her, Chrys pressed his back to her front. His cock slid between her thighs, so very close to her incredible velvet heat. He covered her hands with his against the edge of the spa. “What are you doing to me, Laney?” he rasped.
She turned her face against his. “Loving you,” she whispered.
The words slayed him.
She loved him. This smart, brave, sexy-as-all-hell woman loved him.
He couldn’t wait another moment.
Pressing against her lower back, he forced her to arch and grind her rear into his groin. He tilted his hips, dragging the head of his cock against her heat, and drove home.
He filled her in one long stroke.
They both cried out. Chrys held her face and captured her lips, wanting to claim the sound of her pleasure, along with everything else. He broke free as his cock withdrew, then he slipped into an easy, languorous rhythm that allowed him to feel every inch of her tight channel. He used his hands to pin hers to the tub’s edge, forcing their upper bodies together as his hips tilted and thrust. It was pure, sensual torture to not drive hard and fast. But this one time, he felt himself wanting to cherish, needing to savor.
She moaned, a high-pitched sound so full of pleasure. Under his hands, hers gripped and flexed. “Oh, God. Faster. Move faster.”
He dragged his teeth down her neck, then softly bit the tendon that sloped into her shoulder. “No. Just feel this. Just feel me in you.”
“Unnh, do that again.”
He almost didn’t hear her plea over the roar of the jets. “Do what?”
“With your teeth.”
Aw, hell. Holding back his arousal had him gritting his teeth. “You want me to bite you, Laney?” She nodded. “Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“Yeah,” he whispered against the soft, wet skin of her neck. Still f
ucking her in excruciatingly good, slow strokes, he nibbled her there, biting her harder along that tendon, on her ear lobe, on the tendon behind her ear. Her approving moans shot right to his balls, making it harder and harder to take things slow.
“Can I ask you a question?” she rasped.
“Now?” He couldn’t help but smile. “Fire away.” Chrys caressed one hand over her front. Around the curves of her breasts, stroking over her nipples, drawing teasing circles lower and lower over her belly. She gasped and flinched. “You were saying?”
Laney let out a breathy chuckle. His fingers slipped between her legs, finding and circling the hard nub of her clit, and she moaned. “I want to make sure I do what you like.”
The sentiment was as sweet as it was sexy. “You already are.”
“No, I mean, if I wanted to, um, to go down on you, could I touch your…”
Holy fuck. Arousal kicked him in the back. He pounded into her harder, and swirled his fingers over her clit faster. “My what, Laney? Say it.”
“Cock. Could I touch your cock?”
“Jesus. You’ve been thinking about touching my cock?” Maybe, just maybe, he could be ready for her to try touching him everywhere. And his cock was sure as hell a good place to start.
She nodded and moaned. “And taking it in my mouth.”
“I would fucking love that, Laney. The touching and the sucking.” He dropped his forehead against her back and forced his hips to still. It was too good. He couldn’t make it last. But not before she found her pleasure. “You’re going to come for me. And while you’re doing it, you’re going to tell me what else you’ve been thinking about.” An idea in mind, he pushed her forward and a little to the left. “Spread your legs wider.”
She gasped. “Chrys!”
He grinned. “You’re going to spill everything that’s going on in that pretty head of yours while that jet pounds your clit with hot water. Fuck me while you get off on the jet, Laney.”
She ground her hips forward, thrusting her clit into the rush of water, then pressed back, impaling herself on his cock. She trembled and moaned and every bit of it was the most mind-blowing torture.
“Talk.”