by Harley James
“Ah, my initial impression was correct then. You’re an angel in a world of demons.” His eyes seemed to pulse with warmth, sincerity, and…something else.
Jessie smiled, feeling warm in an entirely nice way. She pushed her sweatshirt sleeves up and pet Scourge slowly, a delicious contentment seeping through her. “I hesitate to correct your assumption, but the only angels in my family are my grandparents, Tilly and Walt. They share a love like you’ve never seen.”
His eyes narrowed the slightest bit. “You must take after them, though. You mentioned while I was cooking that they all but raised you.”
“Yes, fortunately for me, otherwise my mother—” Her gaze dropped to where Scourge snored on her lap. The wine was making her tongue loose. Most people ended up finding out about her notorious mother eventually, but right now Jessie wasn’t ready for over-sharing.
“Your mum?” Nate’s question came out soft, his eyes clear and focused. It would be so easy to spill her family’s dirty laundry.
He wasn’t the only one who could be evasive, however. “Have you ever wondered how a child could turn out so differently from his or her family?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact—”
She would have loved to hear what he’d been about to say, but the wall banging re-commenced next door. Nate tilted his head back and belly laughed so deeply she couldn’t help but giggle, too.
“No wonder you got so distracted, Angel,” he said.
Before Nate, no one had ever called her an angel. Not even as a child. It was nice. Especially the way he spoke the endearment, slowly, meaningfully, like he was savoring each letter on his tongue.
Moments later, his insinuation dawned on her. She glanced around the kitchen, remembering her ‘mess-interrupted’ and cringed. “They didn’t distract me with their…uh, their…”
“Fucking?”
The illicit word from his lips made her whole body tingle. “No!”
“Oh, but I think they did. And they are.” His gaze was filled with heat. And he was smirking, the beast.
“That’s not what I…You…I wasn’t leaving because I had to get away from that.”
He shook his head. “You are a horrible liar. Apropos for an angel.”
“Well, give me a break, that sexual marathon isn’t normal.” Scourge yipped and growled on her lap, irritated by her agitation.
“On the contrary. It appears no one has ever showed you how much of a journey lovemaking can be.” He paused, his eyes once again tracking slowly from her lips to her breasts, lower, down to her bare toes. Her breath caught and held, frozen while her heart pumped hard in her chest. His eyes smoldered when his gaze returned to hers. “I’d be delighted to initiate you.”
Outrageous!
But…she liked it.
Almost as much as she liked the way his lips slid past his teeth on that infernally slow smile. “You are curiously depraved,” she whispered.
He stood, lifted Scourge out of her lap, placing him on the couch. “Quite. Put it on a t-shirt for me?”
“No t-shirt big enough to fit your vainglorious ego.”
“Be careful, big words turn me on. But tell me, since when does having an ego equate with depravity?” He leaned down to place his hands on the chair arm rests, boxing her in.
She cleared her throat. “Since when does a metrosexual know how to cook?” Or have a brain? This guy was more trouble than a wired eighteen-year-old in a strip club.
“I didn’t figure you for the judgmental type. Stereotypes can be dangerous.”
“More like early warning systems for modern women.”
“What are you worried about?”
She blew out a breath, but it didn’t help one damn bit. “You.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m here because I like you.”
But why? Why do you like me? “I know nothing about you other than you drive a beat-to-hell pickup, you’re exceedingly permissive with your friends, and by the smell of it, you know how to make a mouthwatering quiche. That’s it.”
Next door, the man’s groans merged with the woman’s growing crescendo of staccato cries. Jessie shifted in her seat, her body achy and warm. The sounds were getting to Nate, too. She could see it in his eyes. The way his gaze kept drifting to her breasts. He straightened, his hands sliding down his pants like his palms were sweaty.
“What else would you like to know?” His voice was gravelly.
The woman next door had to be dying by now from the cadence of those moans. “How can anyone go on for so long?”
“Oh, Jessie, that sounds like a challenge I can’t refuse.” He pulled her up into his arms, and her skin ignited.
Chapter 2
Nate Temple hummed deep in his throat. Jessie’s tongue was raw sugar in his mouth. Two months ago, he never thought he’d find someone who resurrected his muted senses the way she did. He’d heard about the phenomenon, especially with bonded Guardian pairs, but he hadn’t cared, figuring his enhanced abilities—super-human speed, strength, and hearing—made his other numbed senses a fair trade.
She’d even broken through his apathy.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing out on until that day he’d first seen Jessie in the grocery store, the wild pink streak in her light brown, corkscrew hair a show of defiance that he longed to touch. Her outfit that day suggested she’d returned from a jaunt to the gym, as did the provocative flush on her cheeks.
A flush that he would pay a fortune to experience resurrected in the throes of passion.
Somehow she’d brought his world back to living color, taste, and scent since his death during a Zeppelin bombing raid on London’s East End in 1915.
Right now, he had to feel her entire weight in his arms. Grabbing the back of her legs, he pulled her thighs up and apart to wrap around his hips. He went in for another taste of her mouth but found layers of her scarf instead. “Stuff these bloody accessories! Why do women wear such buggery things?”
He turned and went down on one knee to settle her on the sofa. She pulled off the offensive scarf, then grasped the bottom edge of her sweatshirt. A strangled sound erupted from his throat at her sudden bold moves after such alluring hints of shyness. And…
Daaaamn.
He rubbed his hands down his pant legs and inhaled forcefully. There were those soft mocha breasts he’d dreamt about. He spared a moment to take her in. Had he ever seen more magnificent breasts? He tried to speak to tell her how perfect they were, but his mouth couldn’t wait. His palms slid up her midsection to cup the heavy weight. She shuddered, her fingers threading through his hair when his tongue planted broad strokes against her tight nipples.
The messy bun atop her head failed to constrain the curly, light-capturing strands of brown, gold, and hot pink next to an entirely suckable ear. “I fancy your cheeky hair,” he whispered.
“I fancy your breath on my skin,” she sighed back.
One by one, he took the pins out of her hair until it sprung down to hover about her shoulders. He pushed her knees wide and laid flush against her, pressing her into the sofa, breathing in her beachy coconut and berries scent as he took one velvety earlobe between his teeth. Her arms came around him, pulling him closer to her pillowy breasts.
How had he ever been attracted to the willowy type? Comparing all those women to curvy Jessica was like putting a stack of granola bars next to a hot fudge sundae.
No comparison.
“You feel, smell, and mmm…taste so good.” He slid his fingers under the waistband of her booty-hugging pants. “I really love your ass in these trousers, but I think it’s time they come off.” His hands lifted her bottom and pulled the black yoga pants down her legs to pool around her ankles. Lacy knickers rode low on her hips. “Damn, you’re lush.” He wanted to lick her all over. She squirmed under his perusal, clamped her legs together, and pulled a throw blanket against her belly.
He tried to slide it away. “No, I must see you.”
“You can
see me,” she insisted.
“Not all of you.”
“Turn off the lights.”
“Bloody hell, no. I’ve been dying for this moment. I’m not missing anything.”
Her cheeks were flush, she wasn’t looking at him, and this was all wrong suddenly. He tried to dispel the hard grip of lust that had him wound up tight. “Do you want to stop?”
“No. I’d like…I would feel better if the lights were off. At least most of them.” She spoke to the floor.
What? Self-conscious? “Woman, you’re hourglass personified. A walking wet dream.” He ran his hands up her thighs under the blanket to caress her lace thong. His thumbs dipped to press at her warm, wet center, and her head settled back against the cushions. She shifted to stretch her legs a little. Still, she didn’t release her death grip on the blanket. “Who’s the duffer who made you feel like you need to cover yourself?”
Her eyes snapped open as she scooted up. “No one. I can see for myself what my gut looks like. Geez. If I thought this was going to turn into a therapy session, I would’ve put on a pot of coffee first.” The blanket came up to cover her breasts now, too.
This was not the way he’d envisioned this going down. He repressed a sigh, sat beside her, and hauled her into his lap.
“Wait!” she squeaked.
“Oh no. I was content to worship your ripe body, but since you’re the one who started in on the lights business, we’re going to suss it out so we can shoot it down and get on with the fun stuff. Right?” Her ass was so warm and full on his lap he was going to have to concentrate on dead puppies or, hell, intestine-shredded demons to prevent coming in his jeans right now. “Blast, Jessie. Don’t. Move. Like that.” Sweat broke out on his brow. It was the closest he’d come to prematurely blowing his junk since he’d been a human teenager.
“I’m not talking about my body issues right now. Ugh, just let me go, okay? Sorry, this is a mistake.”
He held her fast, hugging her and kissing her temple. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. You have the most beautiful body I have ever seen, Angel. But if you want the lights off, your wish is my command.” He stood with her in his arms and strode into her dark bedroom. “You want me to stay?” Goddammit say yes.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Thank fuck.”
As she laughed, he plunked her down on the bed so abruptly her breasts bounced, and—glory hallelujah!—he’d never been so happy to have Guardian-enhanced night vision.
He yanked the blanket off her, his body taking its place in a heartbeat. His lips found her neck, one forearm next to her head, as his free hand couldn’t seem to cover enough of her satin landscape. “It’s dark. Feel better now?”
“I do.” She arched her head back into the mattress, wriggled her legs apart, and gasped as his bulge made contact with her thong.
This woman bled passion, and he was too far gone to bother with the psychology behind her sex-with-the-lights-off dysfunction. That was not okay, but he was too much of an asshole to take the high road and fix it right now.
But he would. The challenge both rattled and exhilarated him. A sick mix of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Her hands swiveled low on his abdomen. His gut muscles recoiled from her touch as she yanked on the edges of his shirt, unsnapping the bottom buttons. He leaned up to let her finish the job, unable to take his gaze from her face, knowing she couldn’t see him and that she assumed the same of him. He’d never seen such a look of raw hunger on any woman’s face.
He slid down her body, teeth nipping, tongue sampling the softness of her skin all the way down to her legs. When his knees came off the bed, he pulled her ass to the edge of the mattress and dispensed with her knickers. “You want this, Jessica?”
“I do—”
His mouth was on her before she even finished her utterance. Her erotic vocalizations were driving him wild. He pushed her legs wider and —
“Nate, I need you at Rapture immediately.”
Nate groaned to hear Alexios—another member of Unholy Inc, a world-wide network of Guardian nightclub hubs for demon-hunting—speak in his head. Alexios also happened to be the first created Guardian—which meant he was bloody ancient.
“Go away, you Spartan sod. I’m busy,” Nate pushed telepathically back at him, massaging Jessie, reaching up to palm her breast with his other hand. He could feel her body drawing tighter, pulling her up into a mass of sensations that he could metaphysically translate when he closed his eyes. Her passion manifested in a complex blast of jewel-toned colors that exploded behind his eyelids like a kaleidoscope with a hundred mirrors.
Amazing.
He’d gladly die a hundred deaths to wallow in these rich colors and patterns with her.
“Ooo.”
“Yes, Jessie. Come for me, Angel.”
“Jinx returned from recon. Based on her intel, something’s going down on Mirage’s opening night.”
No way should he respond to Alexios. Didn’t matter if his earlier conversation with the Guardian leader had left him uneasy. Right now, as he drank from Jessie, tasted her, her thighs were shaking, her hips bucking, and he’d never felt so overwhelmingly alive since the moment of his death more than a hundred years ago. And wasn’t that something? It was intriguing, addicting, and…
Alarming.
“If you aren’t at Rapture in fifteen minutes, I’m going to put you on Incubus duty for two fortnights.”
Nate gave Jessie one more broad tongue stroke, and she careened off the cliff. She reached for him as her body calmed so he crawled onto the bed to lie beside her. She turned toward him, her hands moving toward his button fly. “Thank you for that,” she whispered. “It’s been a long time.”
“Mankind’s loss.” His, too, because he had to leave before gorging himself on the Jessie buffet. She scooted down to press kisses against his chest where his heart beat a rapid rhythm. Fuck, he didn’t want to put her to sleep. Alexios, you’ll pay for this.
Deep echoes of the Guardian’s laughter only reinforced Nate’s desire for petty revenge.
“You’re beautiful, Jessica.”
“So are you, Nate.”
He blinked at her for a moment, his name on her lips affecting him more strongly than he could have imagined. If he would have found someone like Jessie when he’d been human, he maybe wouldn’t have turned out to be such a bastard. Everything he’d learned about her in the last forty eight days had demonstrated she was goodness personified.
She deserved better than the likes of him. Master manipulator—an accusation he’d heard many times and in many creative iterations. He’d always worn the badge with pride because it’s how he’d managed to survive those harsh years as a child on the streets of early twentieth century London.
Looking down at Jessie now, however…he wondered if it was possible for a tiger to change its stripes.
His body pulsed, hungry for release as he grasped both of her lovely, wandering hands, pulled them over her head, and rolled on top of her. The kiss he’d meant as a claiming, turned out to be much softer. So much more intimate. When they were both breathless, he pulled back to caress her face, his heart heavy with an unfamiliar disquiet. His time was running out if he wanted to avoid a month’s worth of hunting fallen angels who seduced people in their sleep.
Alexios was for damn sure going to pay for this interruption.
He ran a hand down Jessie’s hip. “I promise I’ll be back. Until then…Somnus.”
Jessie’s eyes drifted shut, her mind instantly asleep at his command. Have the best sleep of your life, Angel. He eased her under the covers, brushing brown and pink curls away from her face, unable to resist kissing her one more time. After slipping on his shirt, he removed the quiche and turned the oven off. Then he stepped into the hallway, locked the door, and added wards to repel not only the Incubi, but also the Rephaim and Nephilim, three classes of fallen angels who could control lesser demons—spirits who’d gone to hell and required a hu
man host if they found a way back to Earth.
Fallen angels took their own forms so they didn’t need a host, using glamor to walk undetected among the humans. And then there were the archdemons. As Lucifer’s children, they were at the top of Hell’s food chain, able to control even the fallen angels.
That was Demonology 101. Nate knew it well, though he had yet to cross paths with an archdemon.
Demons—in all their toxic manifestations—were all too real, although most mortals couldn’t see them. Protecting humanity was a pain in the ass, but it was the Guardians’ form of Purgatory because of the despicable choices they’d made while human. The only time he’d ever been honorable was his final decision to sacrifice his life for that of a stranger’s.
One noble moment in a life built in homage to selfishness. It was true of all Guardians, except Alexios.
It would’ve been swell if the Guardians received some sort of “play-nice” pill to help ease their post-human journey. But no. They were stuck with the same shitty vices they’d possessed their first go-round and resisting those flaws was usually harder than throwing down with the demons who managed to worm their way to Earth and inhabit a human host. And unfortunately, it would remain that way until the Apocalypse rolled around.
Nate went down the stairs and stepped out the front door of the building, grateful for the brisk autumn air on his heated skin. He wasn’t afraid of demons, but he was unsettled about Jessie. The senses she’d awakened indicated that she was important to him in a way that he couldn’t put his finger on.
She couldn’t be a potential soul mate because she was human. Yet there was something compelling about her. He’d have to ask another Unholy Inc partner, Jinx, if she’d ever heard of this type of connection between a Guardian and a human.