Heart of Ice

by P. Jameson

  Because Vegas chose him. And there wasn’t a beast telling her to.

  Just instinct, telling her this man was important, and that he needed her the same way she needed him.

  Instinct.

  That bold feeling that she embraced when she decided to stand up to Bastian. It was with her now, telling her to open her heart.

  “What should I teach you first, snowflake?” Monster rasped.

  “How to believe this is real.”

  “I don’t know how to believe. I only know how to feel. I’ve always…” he swallowed hard, his gaze rolling down her neck to stop at her heaving chest “… always felt too much.”

  “Then teach me that. How to feel.”

  His eyes met hers again, digging deep before coming to a decision. He nodded a silent promise and then lowered his lips to hers once again, pressing in harder this time, desperate. And she met each thrust of his tongue with her own, relishing the feel of him invading this small part of her.

  She should want freedom in this too, but she didn’t. She wanted him to override her fear and trepidation. She wanted him to move her out of the safety zone she was stuck in.

  How had she gotten here? To a place where danger felt safe and safety made her scared?

  When it’s all you know… that’s what Marlee said.

  But Vegas was ready to change that.

  Monster’s mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, nuzzling softly there until her breathing calmed.

  How did he know to do that? To tame her like that?

  “You are very soft, female. I’ll need you to tell me if I’m too rough.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “One word, and I’ll stop. Understand. One word is all it will take.”

  Vegas nodded.

  Satisfied, his lips trailed across her jaw until he reached the spot below her ear. He hesitated, going still, and she held her breath waiting to see what he’d do. The suspense twisted her belly, made her shake and tremble until her teeth rattled.

  His hand went around the back of her neck, his touch gentle as he moved his fingers up her nape and into her hair. He curled his fist around the strands and her breath caught when his tongue darted out to lap the skin beneath her ear.

  A sigh rushed out of his chest. “You taste so good, woman. Smell good. Damn.”

  “I-I-I do?”

  He growled something that sounded like a yes.

  And then he did something that made her go limp.

  He latched onto her neck, sucking hard at that tender spot he’d just licked. Sound left her throat, but at the same time her feet left the ground and she found herself being lowered to the new rug that covered the floor. Her world spun, both inside and out, and she opened her mouth to tell him wait.

  But Monster pulled back on his own, hovering to stare down at her. His arms held him up, one on each side of her shoulders, and she couldn’t decide if it made her feel trapped or protected.

  Or both. Maybe both.

  He watched her for so long, she wondered if he was waiting for her to do something. But then he went to his knees.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  “Making you feel,” he said, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt.

  He lifted it over his head, revealing his broad, scarred chest again, with the newer wound Ratchet had given him. It was healing fast. Faster than it should. Firecat powers?

  He sat back on his knees and made no other move, except to watch her.

  Vegas let her eyes roam over his body. Knicks and cuts that had healed to thick gruesome scars were spattered about his shoulders and chest like confetti. Some were bigger, others smaller. But they had all caused pain.

  The idea of him in pain made her reach out to touch him.

  No one touches me.

  His words broke her heart.

  But before she made contact with his skin, his fingers shackled her wrist to stop her.

  “I need you to get used to the look of me.” His throat moved with a hard swallow. “So that when I touch you the way I want to, you won’t be disgusted.”

  Vegas frowned. “You don’t disgust me.”

  Monster straightened his shoulders. “I’ve been made to be ugly. I know that. I know what I am. You never need to lie to me.”

  Ugly? Of course, he looked different. But she didn’t see him as something ugly. She saw his damage as she saw her own. Something to be worn as a badge. Something that spoke of courage. Because only the strongest ones lived through the damage long enough to form a scar. Only the survivors and the fighters and the warriors.

  Was she one too? A warrior. She wanted to be, she decided. She wanted to be a warrior like Monster and Marlee. And like Skye and Janet and Nyla would be some day.

  “I won’t lie,” she promised. “Tell you if something is good, right? That’s what we do, so we know the difference between good and bad.”

  He nodded.

  Okay.

  “I like your scars.”

  Monster frowned so hard she wondered if he’d heard her wrong.

  “They tell me that you’ve been through things. Like I have. And they make me feel like you might understand me. I like them,” she repeated.

  His thumb brushed over her wrist absently, as if he didn’t even have to think about being soft with her. It was just natural.

  “I’m going to lay beside you.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I’m going to touch you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Until you feel good. Because I need that. And you need it too.”

  “Okay,” she breathed.

  “And that’s as far as we’re going tonight because…” His gaze fell to her wrist where he held it so carefully. “When I take you, when we… make love, I want you sure. I want you very sure. Because I don’t think there’s any taking it back. You understand?”

  Yes. That felt right. The instinct within her had the same feelings, that what she and Monster would do, had already done, couldn’t be undone.

  Go slow.

  No. Grab this piece of life you never thought you’d have.

  It’s dangerous.

  Was it? It didn’t feel dangerous.

  Bastian felt dangerous. The basement felt dangerous. The drugs she cooked up to sell to children felt dangerous. To the point her stomach twisted with familiar regret.

  But Monster? Her gentle terrible monster, he didn’t feel dangerous. He felt safe forever and ever.

  “Teach me,” she whispered, reminding him she’d agreed to this.

  Her choice.

  He moved his hand from her wrist, slipping it up to thread his fingers between hers. He stared at their hands together, and she watched his face. His eyes flickered with satisfaction so strong, she could almost feel it herself.

  Amazing.

  Monster pulled their hands to his mouth and dropped a soft kiss to each of her fingers. And Vegas didn’t think twice about her broken chipped nails and chafed skin. Because he made her forget.

  She wondered if she could do the same thing for him and his scars. Make him feel treasured enough that he just… forgot about them.

  She filed it away to think about later.

  Slowly, he pressed their linked hands to the floor above her head and lowered himself to the rug beside her.

  Her breath came faster. He was good at making her wonder and anticipate what was coming next. It was a delicious form of torture. Delicious. Torture. She hadn’t known the two could even go together.

  Finding her eyes, he watched her as his other hand moved down her throat and the center of her chest. Even over the fabric of her t-shirt, she could feel the fiery warmth of his touch and her eyes closed at the pleasure it conjured within her.

  His palm smoothed over one of her small breasts, forcing her eyes open again. But still he was there, watching her so intently.

  “Stop?” he asked.

  Vegas shook her head.

  He continued exploring her curves, pausing when her nip
ple pebbled under his touch. With his fingertips, he stroked the peak, never taking his eyes off her.

  “You respond to my touch,” he whispered low, like it was a secret he didn’t want to share.

  For the first time, his eyes left her face and went to where he touched her breast through her shirt, watching as he stroked over and over.

  “One day I’ll taste you here,” he murmured.

  That sounded wonderful. Going by the reaction she’d had when he sucked her neck… she might go numb all over. Fall out. Was that a thing? Did people faint from being licked?

  Monster’s touch traveled to her other breast, palming it gently before giving it a firm squeeze. Vegas gasped in surprise and he let his thumb rub over that nipple too.

  “Stop?”

  “No.” God, no. His touch was doing something wonderful to her. Creating a tornado of feeling that swirled inside, threatening to explode.

  It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  Good, bad. She couldn’t tell yet. But she wanted more.

  Monster’s hand trailed down her stomach, pausing to play at her ribs and dipping into her navel through the fabric of the shirt.

  “I’ll kiss here,” he murmured, and she couldn’t help feeling like he was taking notes. Studying her.

  She remembered what he’d said last night about watching her and knowing what made her cry. Monster had been studying her for a while, hadn’t he? Studying for when he got his chance to prove himself.

  And he wasn’t done.

  The idea made her heart swell into her throat.

  She’d always wanted someone to care about her this much. Now someone did. And it felt odd and wonderful and worrisome all at the same time.

  His gaze snapped to hers. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Why?”

  “It made your scent change.” He frowned, like he’d just noticed something, but then shrugged it off.

  “My scent?”

  Monster nodded. “My animal is growing stronger. It can sense your distress.”

  His animal. Firecat.

  Vegas swallowed hard. Why did the idea of his beast appeal to her so much? If Monster ever shifted to fire like Ratchet did, he’d be unstoppable. He’d be terrifying. He’d be too powerful to comprehend.

  Yet… she wanted to see it happen.

  She wanted to give him that power. Because he deserved it for how careful he was, how hard he tried. And how much he’d endured.

  “It’s not distress,” she explained. “It’s… something else.”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes and a miraculous little shift of his damaged lips made her stomach flutter. “You like what I’m doing, mate?”

  Mate.

  The word became stamped on her consciousness like a brand. Mate. It felt right.

  “Very much.”

  “The more time we spend together, the better I’ll get at learning the changes in your scent. It won’t take me long.”

  No doubt. Already, it was getting easier to understand him. Maybe their misunderstandings would be fewer from here on out.

  Or maybe it would take a lifetime to learn each other.

  Monster slipped his hand beneath her shirt and started the trek back upward. This time, skin against skin, and it felt glorious. His rough callouses dragging against her tender flesh. Hard against soft. Brutal against timid.

  Her breath had stalled by the time he cupped her breast again in his hot hand, and she let out a hard exhale as he gently twisted her hard nipple between two fingers, all the while locking his gaze with hers.

  “Stop?”

  Vegas shook her head hard and he lowered his lips to hers for another soft kiss.

  “Good girl.”

  “H-how do you know what feels good?”

  “I don’t. I watch your face. You tell me with your eyes.”

  Oh.

  Studying her.

  She wanted to study him too.

  But when she lifted her hand to run it along his chest, he stopped her. “No.”

  Her throat ached as she realized he didn’t want her touch like she wanted his.

  Vegas shriveled inside. In the space of one heartbeat.

  And Monster noticed.

  “If you touch me, snowflake, I’ll crumble. Do you understand? I want you so bad I’ll lose control. Take you too hard, before you’re ready. I won’t risk it. Won’t risk fucking this up. Your touch… goddamn it…” he growled the last part “… is like fire to me. I don’t know how to love you without burning us both up. But I’m learning.”

  Boldness came over her. From out of nowhere or… from a place deep within that she was only beginning to learn about.

  “Then I’ll burn.”

  She snapped her mouth shut because those words sounded like a damn solid commitment. Was she ready for that? It should scare her that she was willing to burn just to feel something with him, this man that was first her captor and then her savior. Except it didn’t.

  Monster moved his hand from her breast, dragging it over her stomach and hip, and finally tucking it beneath her waistband.

  “Not tonight you won’t.”

  And then he touched her. There. Between her legs where no one ever had.

  Vegas crushed his hand between her thighs in shock and breathed through her mouth, trying to still her violent reaction. Monster vibrated above her, so powerful, so restrained, waiting for permission that she knew he wasn’t used to asking for. Wanting to take, but willing to wait.

  And that was when she knew.

  He really did care for her like Marlee said. Enough to put her desires before his own. Enough to strangle himself back from the lust she saw in his eyes. Enough to care more about her than himself.

  That was the definition of love, wasn’t it?

  It made her want to return the feeling. It made her wonder if love could be contagious. If maybe you loved a person hard enough, it was possible for them to feel it back.

  Because… she was feeling something. Something important.

  “Stop?” Monster choked out, his hand still caught in the vice of her thighs.

  Seconds—minutes—ticked away while she tried to answer.

  “No.” The word came out silent, but her legs somehow opened for him, and he slicked through her wetness with a groan.

  “This… wait and see what I do to you here, female.”

  The sensation was almost more than she could take and she squeaked out a warning noise.

  “It’s okay, mate. Feel it. Feel me. Right here, with you.”

  He slipped through her folds again. And again, coming to a stop at the top of her cleft where her clit was throbbing. She gasped, pressing her head back to the floor as he circled it, slowly drawing out her pleasure.

  Still, he watched her. Eyes burning, he watched her. Never took his claiming gaze from her.

  “Monster…” Something was happening. She was about to tumble out of control, and cold fear slammed her hard.

  “Stop?” He growled the question, almost daring her to say no.

  “No.”

  If she stopped now, she’d regret it. That much she was sure of.

  So he circled and circled, wringing sensation from her she never knew existed. And inside, a storm raged. Instinct and fear and pleasure. Parts of her were awaking. Parts that had never opened their eyes before.

  Mine, mine, mine, her mind roared.

  Out loud there were only desperate whimpers.

  Two pieces. She was two pieces, and she had no idea how to get them to come together.

  Monster’s insistent hand kept moving, his fingers dipping into her while his thumb swirled at the top. With a growl, he kissed her, molding his mouth to hers and thrusting his tongue inside, mimicking what his fingers were doing down below.

  And Vegas came undone, rattling apart from the inside. Legs writhing, breath seizing, fists clenching, as her body experienced the greatest free
dom she’d ever known.

  Her first orgasm. Two firsts in one day, and hell, they were big ones.

  Monster’s touch slowed and he broke their kiss. But his labored breathing told her he was just as spun out as she was. His careful mouth grazed her jaw on its way to her ear.

  “Your moans taste like heat and honey, woman,” he husked. “I wonder how your pleasure tastes.”

  He went back to his knees and Vegas desperately tried to catch her breath. But he pulled his hand from her pants and did something so intimate it left her feeling exposed… even though she was still fully clothed.

  He brought his fingers, glistening with her wetness, to his mouth and licked. Licked them like he’d just eaten a decadent dessert and didn’t want to miss any of the remnants.

  Holy geezus.

  Vegas could feel her mouth open in surprise, but nothing came out.

  Monster closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, she thought she saw the hint of flames flickering in his deep green eyes. His eyes were the best part of him, she decided. They told her more about his intentions than he ever could. And they were hinting at a future with him. A future where she was free, and he would always be there to make sure of it.

  “Now, we sleep, mate,” he rumbled. “Tomorrow… more firsts.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dear Eddy,

  Mama Kitty can’t read us bedtime stories anymore. Father said. And I tried not to be sad about it. I didn’t cry until I was in bed and I was careful not to make a sound while I did. I don’t think he knows. I hope he doesn’t. We’ll see in the morning.

  Goodnight,

  Monster

  ***

  Monster pulled the garbage truck into the yard, parking it at the end of a long row of others. Smokes, his partner for the day, snuffed his cigarette out and jumped down from the cab. The cat was often quiet, but today he’d said almost nothing for their entire eight-hour shift.

  It made Monster’s instincts crawl. Something was going on with the man.

  Smokes’s boots ate gravel as he made his way for the warehouse door and Monster had to jog to keep up.

  “Hey.”

  “What?” He paused with one hand on the door and looked back.