Tia
I was awake.
Lying in the bed, I tried to figure out what had woken me. Eyes closed, I listened. Everything was utterly still and silent. As always. I started to close my eyes, then stopped, pushing upright. Valkyrie’s bed was empty. I snapped my fingers but didn’t hear the familiar click, click, click of her nails. I tugged the scarf from my head out of habit as I slid from the bed.
It was a little past midnight.
Absently, I glanced down the hall toward the backyard.
I froze.
It was too dark.
The bright light that illuminated the backyard wasn’t on. An odd sensation settled in the center of my chest and I tried to swallow, but there was a knot in my throat, so big and massive, I could hardly breathe.
I heard a faint whine, a familiar sound, one I’d come to recognize over the past few weeks.
“Valkyrie...” I whispered.
The low, eager whine came again, followed by a yip.
Heart knocking hard against my ribs, blood roaring in my ears, I eased out of my bedroom and down the hall, ignoring the darkness of the backyard for the warm pool of light that beckoned from deeper in the house.
The kitchen was empty and beyond that lay the formal dining room that I never used. That room was empty, too, but there was light shining in from the living room and when a floorboard creaked under me, Valkyrie yipped and came running toward me, her long, fluffy tail wagging madly. Her eyes, black in the dim light, glinted at me, as if she were saying, Hurry up!
She looked back over her shoulder then darted toward me, coming up behind me to nudge me in the butt with her nose. Clearly, I wasn’t moving fast enough for her.
Part of me wanted to run into the next room.
The other part wanted to tear back up the stairs, because if it wasn’t him...
I practically collapsed against the frame of the wide, open arched doorframe, staring at the man sitting in a pool of shadows, despite the light that shone from the lamp he’d turned on.
I gripped the frame, squeezing so hard my fingers cramped.
Valkyrie nudged me again, then moved to sit at my side, her tail making a swish, swish, swish sound as she continued to wag it. All the while, she looked up at me eagerly as if to say, Look! Look who it is!
Curling my fingers in her soft fur, I held on tight.
“Let me guess,” I said, my voice huskier than I’d like, but not shaking. That was a plus, right? “You were just in the neighborhood?”
Casper rose from the fat, overstuffed armchair and paced toward me.
He looked...different.
It had been close to two months since I’d seen him—months that felt like a lifetime. But that wasn’t that long, was it?
Yet he looked...different. Still beautiful. Still deadly. And he still felt like...mine.
Short pale hair had grown in in the time since I’d seen him, proving that I’d been right—he was a blond. A scruffy beard didn’t quite manage to hide those beautiful cheekbones or take away from the hard, sensual cruelty of his mouth. My hands shook with the need to touch him and I shoved them into the loose pockets of my pajama pants so I wouldn’t reach out to do just that.
Touch had never been a need for me until he came along. When he left, the inability to touch him had caused an almost visceral ache.
His eyes glittered in the dim light, but he hadn’t said a single word.
The penetrating look on his face left me feeling adrift and I tried to figure out which part of him I was dealing with—Spectre, the man who’d first appeared in my house, or Casper, the man who’d walked away from me.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” Clenching my hands into fists, I forced the words out. “Or am I just supposed to—ummmm...”
The rest of the words, whatever they would have been, faded as his mouth came down on mine.
He boosted me up, big hands grasping my butt and holding me snugly against him. Through the layers of clothing, I felt him, thick and heavy and hard. I could have cried, I needed him so bad.
The room spun around me in dizzying fashion as he carried me through the house, stopping every few feet to brace me against something hard so he could run his hands over me, or hold me steady so he could rub against me. Shuddering and aching, I caught his head in my hands. his short hair like silk against my palms.
“Don’t make me wait,” I begged as he went to pull away again.
“Bed, Tia,” he muttered, his mouth fastening on my neck, teeth sinking into the sensitive curve.
“Fuck the bed. Right here. Don’t make me wait...”
Here turned out to be the hallway, almost the exact position I’d been in the first time I’d seen him, although I didn’t realize it at the time.
Neither did he.
He lowered my feet to the ground, yanked my pajama pants down, then boosted me back up.
The rasping sound his zipper made seemed horribly loud.
I shoved my hand between us, closing my fingers around his cock. As I squeezed him, he shuddered, muttering words in a language I didn’t know. But then he wrenched my hand away with a force that might have frightened me if I hadn’t been just as desperate.
He boosted me up and I wrapped my legs around him once more, whimpering as I felt the head of his cock nudging me.
He pressed against me. I buried my face in his neck, felt his big, strong body trembling. Pain burned as he went to push inside—as much as I needed him, I wasn’t ready and he realized it almost instantly.
“I’m hurting you.”
“I don’t care...” I clung to him.
“I do.” He pulled away, untwining from my arms and legs, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my chin, my neck—a hot, seductive path until he was kneeling in front of me. He brought one knee up over his shoulder and I gasped as he found me with his tongue, unerringly seeking my clit and teasing it to throbbing readiness.
My supporting leg trembled and I clutched at him. “I’m going to fall.”
“I won’t let you.” He grabbed my other leg and moved in. Before I realized what he was doing, he had my legs draped over his shoulders while he gripped my ass in his hands, face buried between my thighs. “Come for me, Tia...show me you still want me.”
Still want you... I might have laughed, but he’d already stolen the oxygen from my lungs. It was all I could do not to scream. But then he slid one hand down and plunged two fingers into my pussy, screwing them deep—once, twice, three times...and I started to come, crying out his name while rocking against him and clutching his face to my pussy as I begged for more.
“You’re ready now,” he whispered against the slick wet folds, sliding my legs down. He rose in a fluid, rapid movement, caught me around the waist, and while I was still trembling from the orgasm, he lifted me, filled me.
The harsh keening that escaped sounded too animalistic to be me, but I knew it was because he was muttering in my ear, saying my name and other things in that unknown language while he thrust deep, then withdrew, only to fill me again, with slow, purposeful thrusts that stretched and filled me.
The second climax was almost as brutal as the first and I whimpered as he pulled out, still hard.
Dazed, I looked at him, watching as he hitched his jeans up and zipped them.
“What are you...”
He swept me up into his arms. “Making up for lost time.”
“DON’T.” EYES OPENED only to slits, I flapped a hand at him when he came out of the bathroom, his body, finally naked, was beautifully gilded by the silver moonlight shining in. “I can’t handle any more.”
He crawled onto the foot of the bed and pressed a kiss to my ankle, my calf, the back of my knee, working his way slowly up.
By the time his tongue circled my nipple, the pulsing between my thighs had grown strong enough to prove me a liar.
But he lay in front of me, eyes heavy-lidded, his short hair mussed from all the times I’d spent grabb
ing his head or clutching him closer as he kissed me.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I whispered, the words husky. Excessive shouting and moaning could be hard on the throat, apparently. Tears rushed to my eyes immediately after I said it and I wiggled forward, burying my face against his chest so I wouldn’t blurt out what I’d just let myself think.
But he wasn’t one to let me hide from my thoughts...or reality. In the short time since I’d known him, he’d never been anything less than brutally honest and unflinchingly direct. It was something I appreciated about him. But right now, that directness terrified me.
“Look at me, Tia.”
“I don’t want to,” I said and as soon as I did, I wanted to kick myself. Wait five seconds and think before you speak.
His fingers curved around the back of my neck—strong, warm, impossibly gentle. “Why not?”
“Because if you’re going to tell me you’re leaving or more bullshit like that, I’d rather you just did it and not talk about it or make me watch. It was too hard last time.” Last time. I’d dealt with it then, because as much as I’d hated it, I’d expected it, really. And I’d known he wasn’t coming back.
But he had. He’s here.
He’s here, right here in bed with me. My emotions swung swiftly to anger and I jerked back, going to my knees so fast, it left my head spinning. “Fine.” My voice came out clipped, but at least I wasn’t yelling. “I’m looking at you. Just...just say it, okay? Whatever it is you came to say, say it and get out so I can cry about you all over again.”
I crashed into his chest, hard. He speared a hand into my hair and his fingers snagged on the curls. He started to smooth his way through, but I yanked back.
“Be still,” he said.
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
For emphasis, I shoved against his chest.
“Why not? It’s what you’ve been doing to me.” He rolled then, pinning me under him.
Hurt and fury and fear tangled inside and I shoved at his shoulders, glaring. He caught my hands and dragged them over my head and my breath stuttered out of me as the shift caused him to press against me...intimately. I swallowed back the moan, refusing to let it out.
“I’m not leaving,” he said quietly, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Not unless you tell me that’s what you want.”
He kissed my cheek next, my earlobe, then began to trace a path along my neck until he found the mad flutter of my pulse.
“I...what?”
He came back to my mouth and murmured those very same words. “I’m not leaving.”
The light, hopeful feeling in my chest tried to break free of the chains I’d slapped around it, but I didn’t dare let it happens. In fact, I added more chains, because there was nothing worse than dashed and smashed hope.
He kissed me, gentle and soft, and I lay there, clenching my hands into fists and struggling to figure out where the problem was...before the heat of his body, the persuasion of his kisses made thought utterly impossible.
He’d said something important...not leaving...I had to think about that and it wouldn’t be possible if I didn’t stop him soon.
He moved lower, mouth sliding along my collarbone and I groaned. “Casper...stop.”
He nuzzled my neck and drew in a breath. I had the weird sensation he did it just to breathe in the scent of me and the idea left me feeling sort of giddy. “If you say so.”
Pulling away, hands gliding over my skin as if he loathed breaking contact, he levered away from me and sat on the bed cross-legged with loose, boneless grace. Immodest grace. My mouth went dry as I raked him with a look, eyes lingering on the still-erect length of his cock.
“Unless you want me back on top of you, you shouldn’t look at me like that.”
The rasp in his voice had me looking up at him. “Like what?”
He shifted on the bed, settling with his back against the elaborately carved wooden headboard. Eyes sultry and full of sensual promise, he stretched out one leg, while bringing the other up, knee bent. He slid one hand down and closed it around his cock, stroking lazily.
“Like you can’t wait to put your mouth on me again.” His voice dropped even lower. “And the way you just licked your lips makes me think that’s exactly what’s going through your mind.”
“Of course it is, now that you went and talked about it.” Grumbling, I wiggled away and grabbed blankets at random, burying myself in them so I didn’t leap for him. When I looked back at him, my heart stopped and my mouth fell open.
He cocked a brow at me. “What?”
“You... Wow! You just smiled. Like...really smiled. Not just that little half-grin you do sometimes. But a real smile.”
The smile had already faded but the memory shone crystal-bright in my mind and my fingers itched for my charcoals and paper. “You’re serious, aren’t you? About staying?”
His lashes drooped lower but he didn’t look away.
“If you’ll have me,” he said in a rough voice.
“If I’ll have you...” A half-wild laugh escaped me, but it stopped abruptly, all but choking me as it lodged in my throat when he rose and circled the bed. I watched, still huddled under the blankets, as he dragged on his jeans.
“I was asked to give you this,” he said.
I shivered because it wasn’t Casper’s voice he spoke with now and when he looked at me, the cool, empty expression on his face was too much like Spectre’s, the man who’d scared me shitless those first few hours. In his hand, he held out a piece of paper, folded into a square and worn.
Confused, I took it and opened it. I hadn’t read more than two words before I jerked my head back up, already pissed off.
I hadn’t heard him leave. But he was no longer in the room.
Swallowing, I looked back down at the note my brother had written.
Tia
Apparently, this guy is what you want.
I can’t say I’m happy about it but from what I’ve uncovered, he’s not the sick son-of-a-bitch I wanted him to be, although he is going to have to turn over a new leaf if you two are going to make this work.
I only want what’s best for you...and what will make you happy.
So, if that bastard hurts you, I’ll be doing some vigilante justice myself.
Love you, sis.
Mac
Not quite sure what was going on, I slid from the bed and headed for the door. I didn’t even think about being naked until I was halfway down the hall. Frustrated, I hurried back to my room and grabbed the first thing I saw—his shirt, lying on the floor. Dragging it on gave me a petty sense of satisfaction because he couldn’t leave without a shirt, right?
I started into the kitchen but stopped when I saw the backyard light was on again. Veering in that direction, I paused when I saw him sitting on the porch, Valkyrie lying next to him with her head on his lap. She didn’t look up, but her tail thumped when I opened the door and moved outside.
“When did you see Mac?” I asked warily.
“Which time?”
I blinked.
“You’ve seen him more than once?”
Broadly muscled shoulders rose and fell as he sighed.
Edging around him, I moved down the wide stairs so I could stand in front of him. I wanted to see him when he answered and I knew he wasn’t going to turn to look at me.
The bright porchlight backlit him now, casting him into shadow so that I could only make out the dark glitter of his eyes, not their color, but I knew they’d be hot and intense, the green almost jewel-like in its intensity.
“Three times,” he said in a remote voice.
“I...” The word squeaked out of me and I cleared my voice. “What do you mean, three times?”
Casper cocked his head. “Just that. I saw him three times. The first time was nine days after I left you in Colorado. I saw him again six weeks after that, when he texted me and told—”
“Hold up.” I lifted a hand, index fi
nger extended while I drew in a breath. “Just how did my brother the cop know how to text you...but I didn’t?”
“Because after I left him in Boston—”
“After you left him in Boston?” I spun away from him and paced a few steps, yelping when my bare feet came in contact with the cold, wet grass.
Casper had his arm around me in a second. “What’s wrong?”
“The grass is cold.” I jabbed my elbow into his side and ducked out of his embrace and turned back to the porch. I wasn’t ready to go back inside so I veered to the deck chairs and turned on the linear gas firepit with its high, deep walls—deep enough that it could act as a table, provided you didn’t turn the heat up too high. Grabbing a blanket from the sealed outdoor storage unit, I wrapped it around my shoulders.
Mind whirling at what he’d revealed, I turned to Casper. “You went to Boston. To see Mac.”
“No.” He inclined his head. “I went to Boston for something else altogether. But Mac was there. I thought we should...talk.”
“Talk. Yeah. Right. I bet Mac took that real well. How long did it take him...” I stopped as the realization hit, dropping down on me with the force of an anvil smashing into my head. Dazed, I sank onto the love seat, the cold damp not even penetrating this time. “You broke his arm, didn’t you?”
A muscle pulsed in his cheek. “Yes.”
“Did he pull a gun on you?”
After a brief pause, he nodded.
“Why on earth did you go talk to him? Especially without me? He could have killed you!”
“There wasn’t a high risk of that happening,” Casper said. “But it was one I was willing to take.”
Pushing up off the padded cushion, I stalked across the porch and shoved him. “Why?”
“Because of you.” He caught my shoulders, grip firm, but not cruel. His eyes held more emotion than I’d ever seen.
Heart racing, I grasped his wrists, but I didn’t know if I wanted to peel his hands off or cling tightly.
“You told me to make it work, Tia. And that wasn’t going to happen with your brother standing in the way. There was only one option—see if he loved you enough to give me a chance.”
Spectre Page 27