The giant glanced at Houghton, who enjoyed a drug induced slumber, then back to Tyr. Blazing blue eyes promised a shit storm of wrath and fury.
“Today, you die.” A crushing grip choked him as he was lifted off the floor. The beast had one hand around his neck, the other holding his belt.
Tyr rolled his eyes in mach disgust. It was obvious this gargantuan thing in front of him could do serious damage. He wasn’t afraid. Fear was for the lesser. He drew his power from fear.
Words gargled up his trachea. “I can smell her all over you. She tastes exquisite, doesn’t she? Like a fine wine.”
Breathing was difficult but he feigned indifference. “Imagine what a team the three of us would make.”
The hand at his throat constricted.
“This is for Grayce.” The man with fierce blue eyes tensed his fingers with slow, torturous intent, and crushed his windpipe.
Tyr was no match for such physical strength. He would accept defeat, this time.
But never again.
When next they met, he’d be prepared. With the minuscule reserve of strength he had left, Tyr transported himself out of the death grip and into the safety of the tunnels. He was out cold the moment he hit the ground.
* * * *
Zander stood empty handed and dumbfounded.
What the fuck just happened?
Why didn’t he snap the bastard’s neck the second he entered the room? Why did he give the fucker a chance to speak?
He turned to the freak on the bed.
His fists clenched and unclenched, then clenched again. It was so unfair. He laid there, pumped full of drugs in peaceful slumber. Where was the justice in that?
Nikolas’ words reverberated through his skull. “Don’t do anything stupid.” God, he wanted to kill this man. Rip him to shreds for what he was putting Grayce through.
Withdrawals wreaked havoc on his body, so intense he struggled to focus. He needed to get this over with and get back to Grayce.
Could he take somebody’s life? Was that the man he wanted to be?
“Fuck!” Zander punched the wall and left a hole large enough to fit a basketball through. A gust of fresh air burst into the room.
With no concern for the man’s comfort, Zander ripped Houghton’s arms free of the cuffs. He didn’t bother to remove his catheter or IV’s. That was a kindness he didn’t deserve.
He threw the convict over his shoulder, bare ass hanging out. In a matter of seconds, he dropped Houghton face down in the center of the prison recreation yard, naked as a jaybird and passed out cold.
Let the other inmates take care of the pile of shit.
His conscience was clear.
* * * *
Each time the pain reached intolerable on the “how much can she take” scale, Grayce brought her fire to the surface of her skin, let it hover long enough to burn away the withdrawals, then drew it back in again. Stephen slept warm and peaceful at her side, unaware of the torment she suffered.
“Grayce.” Chelsea tiptoed into her line of sight.
“Holy shit.” Pillows flew and Stephen twitched. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Lost in thought?” Chelsea giggled and looked at the mess. “You two have fun?”
Grayce nodded and rubbed the lingering tears from her face. Not quick enough to hide the evidence from Chelsea.
“What happened? Is everything all right?”
Grayce slumped.
Nikolas trailed in behind his wife and scooped the sleeping boy into his arms. “I’ll take him to his room.” With a kiss and a wink to his wife, he headed down the hall.
“I’ll be there shortly, my love.” The smile she flashed her husband brought a blush to Grayce’s cheeks. Chelsea patted his firm ass when he passed, then replaced the vacant spot where Stephen had been curled up with her own rump. A loving arm wrapped Grayce’s shoulder.”You want to go first, or shall I?”
Laying a hand over Chelsea’s, Grayce released a drawn out sigh. “You go first.”
Chelsea proceeded to fill Grayce in on the happenings at the hospital. Listening with great difficulty, she tried to push the effects of her withdrawals to the back of her mind. She’d managed not to go insane yet, but if Zander didn’t return soon, she might have to jump off a tall building.
“So that’s it? You left and you don’t know what happened?”
Oh fuck. This was bad.
“He wouldn’t try to kill Tyr, would he?” Grayce wanted Tyr dead.
Duh.
But that burden shouldn’t fall on Zander’s shoulders. He represented what was good in this world. What would taking a human life do to him?
“I don’t know. His rage was palpable, Grayce. There was no talking to him.”
“Can you read him?” Grayce leaned her head into Chelsea’s, wondering if this is what her mother’s arms would have felt like, if she’d ever been able to offer comfort the way a mother should.
“No, he’s too far away. As fast as he travels, he’ll be here before I can read him anyway. He was a mess, from withdrawals I mean. I’m sure whatever he’s doing, it’s fast so he can get back to you.” Chelsea paused and kissed Grayce’s cheek. “Your turn.”
“Oh Chelsea, I don’t even know what to say.” Clapping her hands to her face, Grayce sunk deeper into the couch cushion that she’d occupied for most of the afternoon. “Can you just read me?”
“I already have, but sometimes it helps to say it out loud.” Chelsea snatched a pillow from the floor and fluffed it in her lap.
“He’s my little brother. I have a brother.”
“Nikolas tested his blood. We had our suspicions, but we didn’t want to say anything until we knew for sure.”
“What do we do? Do we tell him?”
“Let’s discuss this with the men after they get back. It might be better to wait until some of this blows over.”
“Chelsea, I still feel like I’m stuck in one big, crazy fever dream. I want to wake up.”
Warm solid flesh enveloped her. Hot air caressed her skin. Faster than her heart could palpitate, Grayce was transported to the bedroom and pinned against the wall.
Plush lips brushed the sensitive spot behind her left ear and worked their way up her chin to her mouth. Eager hands were hard at work unbuttoning her jean shorts. As they slid down her hips and fell to her feet, a fevered ache pounded between her legs.
Powerful fingers made their way under her shirt and hunted down her breasts. As he thumbed her hard nipples, soft spasms danced in her abdomen.
Shit. Two seconds with Zander’s hands on her and she was ready to come. The soft cotton of her baby-doll tank was no match for his determination to get her naked.
“That was my favorite shirt.” She pouted.
“You say that about everything you wear. Can I just apologize now, for all the future clothing I’ll shred? I need to be inside you.” His lips traveled to her breasts. His rough tongue flicked across her hard nipple. He pulled it into his mouth and sucked until it was a taut peak. Grayce’s knees buckled.
In a blink, she was sprawled across the bed. Zander stood to remove his shirt and for the first time, looked her in the eye.
“Firecracker. You’ve been crying. What happened? What’s wrong?” Climbing over her naked body, he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Tell me.”
“Did you kill him?” Her trembling hands pressed against his heated abdomen.
His head sagged on his shoulders. “No. I wanted to...but...wait, is that why you were crying? You thought I killed him?”
“No, fuck no.” The monster deserved to die. She’d never shed a tear for him.
“Why, then?” His worried eyes caught her gaze and reignited her desire.
“Can we talk about it after you make me come? At least twice?” Grayce faked a smile, hoping to ease his discomfort.
“You want to make love, baby?”
“No. I want you inside me, now. Fast. Hard. After that, do whatever the hell you want.”
It took Zander two-seconds to remove the rest of his clothing and drive his sex deep. After the day she’d had, hard and fast was precisely what she needed. It was obvious by the force in which he pounded, that he needed it too.
That’s exactly what he did, over and over, hard, deep, unrelenting. She came within minutes. So hard, her contractions drew him to the brink. He shuddered and froze, let her pull, squeeze and draw out every heated drop of his release.
As she relaxed, he pulled her close, rolled to his back and nestled her head between his pecs.
His heartbeat slowed, quieting her soul as it beat through her ear down to her heart. She’d take the soothing rise and fall of his chest over a rocking chair anytime. With the warmth of his skin, comfort of his chest and the lullaby of his heartbeat, Grayce drifted into dreamland.
Zander chuckled, then whispered. “Sleep, baby. There will be plenty of time for orgasm number two later.”
12
Blood pounded fierce and hard. With each throb, pain pierced his brain like a rail spike through the skull. A warm, sticky goo dripped from his chin as he lifted his face from the floor.
He’d never been in so much pain. Neck, throat, head. Felt like he’d been run over by a road roller. The darkness made it impossible to gauge his location. A ray of light peaked from under what he assumed was a door. Tyr waited patient and breathless for his vision to come into focus.
As his eyes adjusted, the table next to him took form.
The playroom. Perfect.
Standing took a considerable amount of concentration. Tyr grasped the wooden legs and struggled to gain his balance. The distance separating him from the light switch seemed insurmountable. His shoes stuck, then tore away from the mucky floor with nauseating resonance.
Tyr swayed and grabbed the wall to hold steady as he surveyed the room.
She was gone.
Impossible.
Blood dripped from the table, puddled on the floor and now seeped into the fibers of his Brioni suit. A trail of smeared footprints led out the door.
How did she get free? He’d left her on the fringe of death and tethered to the wall. He had thought he’d be coming back to a quick clean up and disposal job. With the amount of blood spilled, she couldn’t have made it far.
His hook hung bloodied and filthy at the end of the table. A tingle rippled across his scalp. Resourceful little nugget, wasn’t she? Must have ripped her skin to shreds trying to cut loose with that thing.
He’d underestimated his toy. Great little actress, that one, playing zombie like she did.
Fueled by adrenaline, Tyr stomped to the door and headed down the tunnel. The trail of spilt blood would make her easy to find. It was going to be fun punishing the bitch.
Punish her for the audacity at attempting escape.
Punish her for ruining his suit.
* * * *
Bones cracked and muscles protested as Grayce stretched under the weight of Zander’s arm. Wow, sore would be an understatement. Who knew sex was a better workout than going to the gym?
Zander slept like a baby and didn’t budge when she wiggled herself free.
A long steamy shower soothed her aches. She studied herself in the full length mirror as she toweled off.
Tracing the scars that zigzagged across her breasts, Grayce scrutinized her form. She’d never made a habit of looking at herself naked. In fact, that last time she’d done so was after her second visit to the emergency room. The stitches hadn’t been removed and Frankenstein’s Monster would have looked like Sophia Loren next to her. Grayce had made a vow never to look again.
Today, however, due to the afterglow of mind-blowing sex with a man too beautiful to be real, she found the courage to examine the body she’d spent so much time ignoring.
Breasts sat high and firm. Stomach tight, six pack tight. Arms and legs were lean and muscular, but still feminine. And her ass, holy shit it looked great. She’d never been partial to her backside. Until now.
Maybe, just maybe, there was something to this soul mates bullshit. Or perhaps she’d been hit by a car and was lying in a coma somewhere. Made more sense.
She grabbed the hairbrush from the shelf and pulled it through her hair. The tendrils fell in soft waves over her shoulders. It was pretty and the red highlights brightened her eyes. She’d never considered herself attractive before, especially not her hair.
Zander sauntered through the door naked and glorious. Planting a kiss on her head, he positioned himself behind her, took the brush from her hand and groomed her with long sleepy strokes.
Grayce froze. “Zander stop.”
“What?” Eyes heavy with exhaustion met hers through the mirror.
“He used to brush my hair. Please, let me do it.” It was an intimate act she wasn’t ready to share. Baby steps, right?
“I’m sorry, love.” He handed the brush back. “Can I watch?”
“Yes.”
Hurt burned behind his sleepy gaze.
“Please don’t take it personally.” Time for a subject change. She turned to place the brush on the counter. Her breast pressed against his arm as she reached around and liquid heat churned in her abdomen.
“Do I look different?” Turning to face the mirror, she rubbed her rear with strategic precision against his steel frame.
“What do you mean?” His breath caught and he grasped her hips. Purple flashed through his retinas.
“Why do your eyes do that?” She tried to face him, but he held her in place.
“Do what?”
“They change. Turn purple. It’s the second time that’s happened.”
He didn’t answer. Instead his fingers dug into her hips and pulled her against a swelling erection that tickled her backside as it rose. His left hand splayed across her abdomen, holding her close, while the other slid up her torso and cupped her left breast.
“You haven’t answered my question.” She met his gaze again in the mirror. Hot damn he was sexy towering behind her, framing her pale body with his golden mass of muscle and skin.
He nipped her shoulder then trailed kisses to her neck, sending pleasure shivers straight to her nipples. “No. I haven’t answered your question.” His dimples came out to play.
Moisture spread between her legs.
When he rolled a hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger, her thighs clenched to absorb the spasms that pumped a swell of heated blood to her womb.
“What was the question?” His tongue traced the outer edge of her ear.
Fuck. Who could remember? “My body is changing, isn’t it?”
“It’s a perk. We get stronger when we bond. Healthier.” His left hand slid lower and a finger-probed her moist folds. “Your stomach is tighter. Not that it wasn’t perfect before.”
She glared at his reflection. He was just trying to get laid now. Didn’t he know he could have her without kissing ass? “We need to talk about yesterday.”
“Now?” Warm, wet lips brushed against her cheek as he ground his hips against her backside.
“Yes,” Grayce commanded and attempted to pull away.
“Shit baby, you’re torturing me right now, you know that?” Shoulders slumped, he released her and let his arms drop to his sides.
With a huff, she stepped into the shower, turned on the double heads and side jets, and gestured for him to join her. Who cared if she’d showered already, they needed to do this.
His eyes twinkled with delight. “Are you going to wash me?”
“I’ll wash if you talk.” Standing at the shower door, she pointed for him to get in.
Craving skin to skin contact, she ditched the bath sponge and poured vanilla scented bath gel directly into her hands. Beginning with his chest, she massaged the heavenly scented soap into his perfect body.
“Talk.”
* * * *
Zander found it challenging to form a sentence while Grayce’s fingers worked their magic.
She covered every inch of his body
with her delicate hands. Every touch, stroke, soft brush of her fingers sent a new ripple of life-giving energy through his flesh.
Somehow, he managed to spit out a detailed account of what happened at the hospital. She deserved the whole truth. He gave it. Even the internal struggle he fought about killing the fuckers.
“Grayce. I was going to kill them both. I was. For you, I was going to kill them. If that bastard hadn’t vanished into thin air when he did, he’d be dead right now. If I hadn’t hesitated... I shouldn’t have hesitated—”
A soapy hand smacked his face and shocked him into silence. “Don’t fucking talk like that.” She doubled over and massaged her hand. “Ow. Will I ever learn?” Her red glow danced across her skin and spread through the shower stall.
“You slapped me.”
“Yes, dammit.” With a thrust and a grunt, she pushed at his chest. He didn’t budge, but it warmed his heart that she kept trying.
“You are not a murderer Zander. Do you hear me? You are not a fucking cold-blooded killer.” The burning fury in her eyes had his blood pumping hotter than humanly possible.
“Sit down.” Grayce pointed to the shower floor.
“Here? Right here?” Disappointed at the turn in her demeanor, he shook his head.
“Yes,” she snapped.
Bossy Grayce was kinda hot. He sat and leaned against the black slate.
“That’s better.” Her confidence seemed to grow tenfold now that she looked down at him rather than up. “You are the only good man I have ever known. If you kill somebody, even for me, it will change who you are forever. Guilt will eat you alive and then you won’t be a good man anymore. You will be exactly like those fucking sick pricks. You couldn’t live with it. I sure as hell couldn’t live with it.”
He tried to interrupt. “Grayce, listen. I—”
She was on a roll. Hell bent on releasing the words she needed to say. Determination gleamed in her fiery eyes. She held up a warning finger.
“You are a good man. I need you to stay good and sane and beautiful, because you’re the only person in my life that’s ever been that way. If you change, there’s no hope for me. Do you understand? I’m broken. I’m damaged. You can’t be. I need you to—” She threw her hands in the air. “Oh fuck it. Zander. I need you. Just you. Just the way you are.”
Aflame (Apotheosis) Page 18