by Dana Archer
“Lovers?” I lower my head, snatching Lyla’s attention “Are you lovers? Or have you been together? Is that why you know so much about him?”
Lyla’s probing stare burns me, as if her look alone can pull secrets from my soul the same way Ezra can lift them from my mind without me realizing he’s rifled through my thoughts. “You have a way about you, Uri. As if you can compel those around you to divulge everything.”
“I’m a Royal.” I speak the truth quietly, as if revealing my own secret, though in this case, it’s merely a fact. “My strength is its own entity, a force I can’t always keep locked down.”
“Especially when you’re suffering under the weight of jealousy.”
Denying Lyla’s words would be a lie. I can’t bring myself to do so. “Bryon and I have a history.”
“Do you?” Lyla’s brow rises. “What kind? He hasn’t left this city in a very long time, and you admitted to avoiding this place.”
“Apparently, you don’t know as much about Bryon as you thought.” Of course, if she did, she’d likely fear him. Even his own kind does. Then again, Lyla has proven she doesn’t let fear stop her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone to that pub alone. Or braved an ice storm to find Bryon.
“And I know even less about you.”
“Then you’d be smart to give me what I want.” I skim my knuckles over her jaw. The slight touch sensitizes my skin, and the tingles are the kind that compels a man to seek more. “Answer me.”
“My previous lovers shouldn’t matter to you. I’m clean. That’s the only thing you need to know.”
Lyla’s healthy. My cats shared the fact with me the moment they scented her. Disease leaves its taint on a person. “I need to know if I have to watch my back around Bryon.”
Lyla draws my head to hers and presses her lips to my ear. “If you were concerned about Bryon, don’t you think you should’ve asked about my past with him before you made me your beloved human?”
“You didn’t stop me, baby.” I settle my hand over Lyla’s ass, and the memory of feeling her soft skin under my fingertips amps my craving for more of the tingling sensation touching Lyla brings. “If Bryon meant something to you, it wouldn’t have been my name on your lips when you were begging me to send you over.”
“I didn’t know you licking my cuts would seal my fate.”
Because I didn’t tell her. I took the choice out of her hands. Again. “Apparently, I’m a bastard.”
“Who wants to protect me.”
“Yes.” I drag my palm across Lyla’s ass to her hip, holding her in place, and step back. “And you said being out here is drawing too much attention to you.”
“True.” Lyla stands on her tiptoes and pulls the beanie off my head, then clasps my hand and walks down a side alley that’s not even wide enough for a car. Fire escapes and doorways lit by different-colored lights dot the length of the otherwise empty alley. The few couples walking down here earlier no longer linger among the shadows between those lit doorways.
Once the lights from the main road fade, leaving our section in relative darkness, Lyla gathers her hair and tucks the spun-gold locks under the beanie. That done, she turns her jacket inside out, hiding the tweed design and exposing the black interior.
With a smile, she spreads her arms out to the side. “There! I’m incognito.”
My laugh catches me off guard. That sound coming out of my mouth is one I’ve rarely heard. So is the smile tugging at my lips. “I hate to break it to you, but that disguise won’t fool anyone.”
“At first glance, it will.” Lyla captures my hands and steps back, drawing me in front of her. “People in these parts see what they expect to see unless something glaringly different catches their attention.”
“Like the golden girl who used to pickpocket them.”
“Exactly.” Lyla drops her head against the brick wall at her back and focuses on me in that way she has, as if nothing can sway her attention from me. “And if we want to blend in, we have to play the roles they expect.”
“Considering I tower over most men in this town, I’m not sure what role I should play besides linebacker or maybe a bouncer, and neither of those are roles I have any experience with.”
She licks her lips and drags her heated perusal down the length of my body. There’s nothing for her to see. My trench coat hides my aroused state, but the way she focuses on my groin tightens my balls. I spread my legs, the stance giving my aching shaft room in the tight confines of my jeans.
A lazy smile spreads across Lyla’s face. “Those roles won’t work. There are only two reasons a guy like you would be down in this section of the city.”
“And those are?”
Lyla curls her fingers around the collar of my jacket and draws me closer while she undoes the buttons keeping it closed. “You’re either here to arrest a girl, or you’re here to buy one.”
The shame of paying for a hooker and not even getting off presses down on me. “Solicit a prostitute, you mean?”
“And lucky for you”—Lyla unzips my jeans—“I’m cheap. I’ll even take an IOU for servicing you. A few beers before you take me home tonight is payment enough. With you, of course. Share a couple of beers with me, and we’ll call it even.”
“You are not a hooker.” The harshness of my voice betrays my anger and my lust. I shouldn’t want Lyla’s touch like this. But I do.
“I could’ve been one.” Lyla pulls me closer. I smack a palm against the wall at her back to save her from being crushed by me, and she smiles, obviously pleased with her ability to catch me off guard. “I could’ve been pleasuring men all night, every night, just like Izzy.”
“It didn’t happen. You chose a different path.”
“Or your goddess chose one for me.” Lyla touches more of me, slowly stroking her hands over my body, as if testing me. “Either way, it brought me here.”
I should push her hand off. That would be the proper reaction. Instead I focus on the glide of her soft skin over my body. “In a dirty alley where you’re offering to service me.”
“Not offering. The offer is off the table.”
“Yeah?” Spreading my legs more to steady my body, I cradle Lyla’s face between my hands and tilt her head back. “Then why are you still touching me?”
“Because all this talk about sex has excited me.” Lyla wets her lips, leaving a tempting shimmer on them. “And left me curious. I’ve never been with a man like you.”
My jealousy eases with Lyla’s statement. She’s never been intimate with a Royal. Never slept with Bryon.
“It’d be safer if you don’t find out. You might trigger instincts you want no part of.”
“What kind of instincts?”
On a groan, I turn my head, bringing my lips to Lyla’s ear. “Dark ones that whisper in my mind at night. They don’t fit in your world. They’d leave you disgusted. Shocked. You’d want to run from me, but it’d be too late. Once you release them, there’s no running. No escaping. I wouldn’t let you go.”
“You already won’t let me go.” Lyla draws me closer. “You told me that. I’m your beloved human.”
I settle my hands on her hips. “You’re my beloved human because you triggered my need to protect you. That’s not the instincts I’m talking about.”
“You’re talking about darker ones.”
“Ownership, Lyla. True ownership, not the possessiveness that comes from a deep-rooted need to protect you. The kind that gives me the right to take you anytime and anywhere I want.”
She grasps my wrists but doesn’t tug my hands off her. “Release me, Uri. Please.”
The huskiness in Lyla’s voice, the way she makes my name sound as if she was making an erotic promise, directs me. I move my hands to the wall by her head.
And Lyla drops to her knees.
No. Goddesses no. I’ll never be able to keep my promise to Lyla or anyone if this goes any further. What I confessed is the truth. The urges in my head are the primal kind that hav
e no place in Lyla’s world.
“You’re making a mistake.” I back up until the opposite side of the alley stops my retreat, putting a respectable distance between us and saving Lyla from the instincts gripping me. “It’s my scent in your body that’s making you want me. It’s messing with you just as it messed with me yesterday.”
“You warned me. Told me I might not like the instincts I trigger.” Lyla stands and walks toward me, her hips swaying with each step. Once in front of me, she unhooks the button of my jeans and boldly yanks the zipper down. I don’t stop her. I can’t. Her gaze on mine locks my muscles. Hunger, possession, and determination burn in her honey-brown depths. There’s no mistaking what she is in this moment: a predator.
And I’m her prey.
Lyla skims her knuckles over my stomach, before shoving at my jeans, pushing them off my ass. Only my spread legs keep them from falling down completely. “So I have no one to blame for what happens. My actions. My consequences. Right? If I know the risks, you’re not to blame for anything that happens between us. It’s all on me.”
She doesn’t give me the chance to answer. She drops to her knees, and her mouth is on me before I pull her to her feet. Her groan reaches me, a mumbled sound of surrender.
Another muted sound escapes Lyla. Satisfaction. That’s what it sounds like. That’s what her rapturous expression as she pleasures me, looks like.
She’s a temptation I want to give in to. With the way she works my body, I will.
Then this will be over.
I drag in a breath of sweetness. Honey, life…Lyla. More memories of touching her at the tavern tease my mind. She smelled of something incredibly sweet and tasted of life. Delicious…she’d tasted delicious.
But today, I need more.
Instincts I’ve never embraced rise from the depths of my soul. Dark ones, just as I warned Lyla about. There’s no stopping them. No stopping this. She knew what teasing me could bring. I told her. Warned her. She dropped to her knees anyway. Put her mouth on me.
My breaths come deeper. My muscles tighten. An anticipation settles over me. There’s no stopping this.
“Warned you.” I jerk back and yank Lyla to her feet with my hand wrapped around her throat.
Switching our positions, I turn us, putting her back to the brick wall.
“Like this, Lyla.” I touch her, showing her without words how I will love her.
“Please, Uri.”
The way Lyla moans my name breaks something inside me. The tether keeping my baser side chained? Or the part of me that cares about human expectations? I don’t know exactly. It no longer matters. This has gone too far.
With Lyla’s face between my hands, I kiss her, love her. Lyla’s mine. No other male will ever touch her again. She’s mine to use, mine to pleasure, mine to possess.
And it’s her fault.
She awakened these instincts. Now she can deal with them.
“Lyla.” I groan her name between kisses, trying to express the magnitude of this moment. There’s no turning back from it. “Mine. You’re mine. Every part of you.”
The dance lovers have embraced for millennia seizes me. No need for me to know how this works. My body understands how to get what it needs, but before I can experience what only Lyla can give me, my felines rise from the depths of my psyche with warning.
We’re not alone.
I freeze with our bodies joined and my tongue twined with Lyla’s. The familiar sensation dancing over my psyche is unmistakable. A pride mate is close.
On a curse, I turn my head, ending this kiss with Lyla, and glance down the narrow lane. The woman standing in the opening could’ve been one of any number of females in this city. Her brown hair isn’t unusual. Neither are her dark eyes. She’s slightly taller than the average human, but overall, she’s plain, as if blending in was a skill she’s cultivated.
The aura surrounding her is far from ordinary, however.
“Izzy.” I ease from Lyla’s body. “That’s Izzy, isn’t it?”
Lyla glances at the woman standing there and sucks in a sharp breath. “Yes.”
Izzy meets Lyla’s gaze, then turns and hurries out of sight.
Cursing, I jerk up my pants before pulling up Lyla’s jeans.
Her dazed expression tempts me to finish this. I want to lose myself inside her, luxuriating in her softness and the warmth of her need for me. Too bad reality chose now to screw with us.
Our witness—my cousin—just took off. Letting her escape isn’t an option. My alpha would have my head if his niece disappeared. Kade’s been searching for his younger sister Nina’s babies for years.
With Lyla’s hand in mine, I tug her forward. “Time to work, Agent Bradford.”
Thirteen
Lyla
With each step, I regain control over my body. By the time Uri and I round the corner, my legs aren’t shaking, and I don’t feel as though I’m going to crumple to the ground. The emptiness and the sense of loss chilling my body aren’t so easily walked off, however.
Sex is a physical act. Two people coming together for pleasure. Sex with Uri, however, is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Holding him inside me completed me in a way that went beyond the way we fit together, and coming at his hands took me to a place I’ve never visited, as if the stars were close enough to touch.
Tightening my hold on Uri and trusting in him not to let me run into anything, I block out my surroundings. The nagging sensation that my life just changed with the sex Uri and I shared doesn’t fade, though. Instead, the ache in my chest, right over my heart, spreads outward, threatening to swallow me whole. Only Uri can chase back the emptiness. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, but if anyone asked me to explain my theory, I’d come up blank. I can’t explain it. I just know it.
Uri squeezes my hand. “Are you okay, baby?”
Baby. The term of endearment melts my heart and soothes the ache in my chest. I cut a quick glance at Uri, but he’s not looking at me. He’s scanning the street, obviously searching for Izzy among the late-night activity. With the bars, nightclubs, and restaurants in this section, there’s plenty of people around. It’s why the street girls hang out around the blocks surrounding this area.
Once we reach the corner, Uri stops and turns me toward him. He skims his free hand over my arm. The inside-out tweed jacket and my shirt prevent me from experiencing his caress, but the sentiment is the same as reflected in his eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.” I step into Uri’s embrace, taking this brief moment to fill my lungs with his scent. “I’m fine. Better than fine. Just a little disappointed.”
Uri’s features harden as if I’d slapped him. He drops his hand and untangles our twined fingers, then motions me forward. “Izzy’s circling back to where she found us earlier. Not sure why. She’s got to know we’re following her. Maybe she’s giving up the chase.”
Uri crosses the intersection diagonally, dodging an oncoming car and leaving me behind. He’s not looking back to see if I’m coming either.
Because I hurt him.
He’s shutting down on me, distancing himself from me just like he did last night when he left me alone in the pool room. Things went then from intimacy to all business in an instant. Just as they did now. Except I didn’t mean anything disparaging toward him or his skills, only the circumstances that stopped me from experiencing Uri’s orgasm. It would’ve been explosive, bringing heaven down to me a second time. I don’t doubt his climax would’ve brought mine. Being with him felt that good.
Fisting the hand Uri released, I chase after him. A car lays on its horn. I maneuver around the stopped vehicle, tapping on the hood and waving my thanks to the pissed-off driver, then run, weaving around the people in front of me until Uri comes into view. Finally reaching him, I fall into a jog to keep up with Uri’s long strides. “We didn’t get to finish. That’s why I’m disappointed. That’s the only reason I’m disappointed. I wanted all ni
ght with you, not just a few minutes, and I didn’t get it. That’s disappointing. Not you.”
“I can’t give you all night. I have responsibilities at home that don’t involve you.” Uri glances at me. “I thought I made that clear.”
Ouch. If I hadn’t seen Uri’s concern moments ago, that comment might’ve hurt. Okay, who am I kidding? It does hurt. It won’t stop me, though. “True, you do, but you also have a responsibility to me. I am your beloved. You need to keep me safe, even from myself. Right? Isn’t that how this relationship between us works? You’re my guardian angel.”
“Beloved human.” The correction is sharp.
“Well, we’re all human. No need to specify that.” I flash him a smile to soften my chastisement. Whereas when I used the full term earlier, we’re not exactly alone, and Uri’s not speaking softly. “But with or without the qualifier, you have a responsibility to protect me, and leaving me back there alone is not protecting me. I almost got hit by a car trying to catch up to you.”
“I didn’t hear you scream. Figured you could catch up without getting yourself killed.” Uri swings an arm out, stopping me before I can answer, and turns me into his embrace. He smooths his hand down my back to my bottom and presses his lips to my ear. “That was wrong. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m sorry, baby. But it’s probably a good thing this happened. Now you have proof. I’m not a hero. I act on instinct and don’t consider how my actions affect those around me. It’s why I don’t deserve you. Not even for a night.”
Yep. I was right. Uri’s complicated, a product of his screwed-up past. Then again, so am I. Whoever said normal was better, anyway? Those of us who qualify as damaged goods carry a well of passion. We need it. The high of life keeps us among the living. Now’s not the time to broach Uri’s issues, though. Another is more pressing.
I fist Uri’s waistband. If he takes off again, he’s dragging me with him. “Where did Izzy go? Did we lose her?”
Uri glances between our bodies to where my fingers grip his jeans. He covers my hand with his and raises his gaze to mine. Energy sizzles between us, racing from where our skin touches, to settle low in my belly. The instant punch of desire weakens my knees and steals my breath. I lean into Uri, bracing myself with my free hand splayed on his firm stomach.