by Richard Amos
“Bloody hell, Karla!”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Greg joined in.
“Do not be fools. We have to take precautions. I do believe she will keep her silence, but I am done taking risks.”
The whole episode with Lilisian on the beach had seriously rocked her—as had my failure to kill the Supreme beast. I mean, that explained the chilliness, but it still didn’t sit right with me. Karla wasn’t one to be broken.
Maybe that was a ridiculous thing to think. Of course she could be broken under her steely resolve, just like anyone else.
“I get it,” Dean replied, “but I’m not fucking with her head. Can’t anyway.”
“Let us focus on this beast for now. We will worry about Fiona if she becomes a problem.”
I gnawed my bottom lip. All that kindness she’d offered to the nurse, yet there had been a sting in the tail.
Damn.
Our mute beast prisoner was fully awake, no longer bleeding. He stood with his hands in his pockets, still looking completely knackered.
“Beast,” Karla addressed him. “Is there no way of you being able to speak?”
He shook his head in reply.
“And you cannot write.” That wasn’t a question. “Interesting. Let me hazard a guess and say this was done to you deliberately?”
He nodded.
“You came here to tell us something.”
He pointed at me.
“This may take some time,” Karla announced. “Curses can be tedious to break.”
I see …
I actually gasped at the sound of Hecate’s voice.
You see what? I asked her.
I see … light … light in him.
Light?
Yes … no.
No?
Not in him … on him. Light on him, a trace of it, from somewhere else.
I didn’t push, didn’t say anything to her. Letting her roll on was always best.
He is not the light … he is not the light. He bathes in light, but is not the light. My dear boy, I cannot see truly yet. There is too much darkness still.
It’ll come … I hope, I answered. We’ll figure out how to help him communicate with us.
Yes …
“Jake?” My eyes followed Dean’s voice to his face. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Hecate says he is … hope. But she can’t see fully, has no answer yet.”
“Blessed be her name,” Karla praised. “We must strive to aid Hecate in her seeing. I will make preparations. Come morning, Naomi and I shall be ready to cast some spells to try and get to the root of this.”
“Cool.”
“We’ve got this,” Nay said.
“You will be provided with food while you remain in the cube,” Karla told the beast. “Mr. Douglas here will bring you blankets and some books. Unless you cannot read?”
“He’s not reacting,” I whispered.
“He can still have the books.”
“Right.”
“Come, Naomi. We have work to do.”
With that, she turned and left, not needing eyes to find her way back to the mansion. Nay followed her.
“I will make a cottage pie,” Mr. Douglas said to the beast. “It is hearty and warming.”
The beast nodded.
Before Mr. Douglas could depart for his kitchen, I was already striding across the snow. I wanted as much distance between me and the beast right now. If something went wrong and history repeated itself, I’d have a mental breakdown.
Chapter Five
I’d had some cottage pie with my friends, pondered all the new stuff that had come up, even texted the white eye guy demanding where he was hiding himself. He’d sent me two kisses in reply.
Bastard.
So, I was now in my room, sitting on my bed, my mind working overtime about all the latest events, as well as the Hercules thing. I was still processing that particular revelation. Me and the mythological hero shared blood—he was my ancestor. Just like me, Hecate had made him into a weapon. Though he’d gone up against the Titans, not beasts.
The urge to chew on my nails was strong, but I put up a good fight and settled for thumb twiddling instead.
Greg and Nay were watching a movie. I really hadn’t fancied it. Dean had left for his room after dinner, and I’d let him be. He probably wanted some space. It was Valentine’s Day. All that mushy crap would so not be his style. My guess was he was gonna sleep through it and wake me up with sex just before dawn.
A guy could only hope.
A knock at my door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Dean’s face appeared in the gap.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“No, been busy.”
“Doing what? You can come in.”
“Want to see something?”
“Sure.” I slid off the bed. “What is it?”
He pushed the door open wider. “Just come.”
I followed him all the way to his bedroom next door. It was hardly like following him to a city of gold.
“I’ve seen your bedroom.”
He frowned at me, a smirk on his face at the same time. “Cynical, much?”
“It’s true. And it looks exactly like my room.”
He rolled his eyes. The action was all kinds of cute. “Just get in here.”
I was so pleased he wasn’t tucked in for the night.
The image before me nearly had me fainting to the carpet.
Candles, so many candles, rose petals scattered across the floor and the bed. It was cliché and wonderful and my jaw was hanging open.
“Dean? What the bloody hell?”
“Like it?”
“I’ve stepped onto the set of a romance movie.”
“Is that a no?”
“No … no. I’m just … what’re you doing?”
He closed the door behind us. “Being festive.”
I chuckled. “I’d never peg you as a man who’d do anything like this.”
“Why not just kick me in the balls?”
“No offense.”
His slightly wounded expression, lit by candlelight, was so sexy.
“I love it, Dean.”
My hand started to tremble. Blimey. Romance … a romantic gesture. This wasn’t hot sex; it was on another level. Romance. Was I ready for romance? Weren’t sex and romance intertwined? If so, was what we were doing up until now called fucking? Had we just upgraded our current status from shagging to making love?
I dry-swallowed. Crap! I needed to not overthink this. There was a smile on my face, a cheesy grin actually. I loved the cliché of roses and candles. It was well-used for a reason—it made me feel fucking awesome. This man wanted to do this for me, to make me feel special and good and it was … Valentine’s Day.
Every day I was being swept away further along the stream of newness.
Love?
No, it was newness—a new experience after being broken. My heart was still in pieces, but I was claiming a slice of enjoyment in this new life.
I kissed him, deep and full of lust—like almost every kiss between us. Man, it was so good to taste him again. The last time I had was only this morning, but I craved those lips and hands all over me like they’d been lost to me for weeks.
“Is that a yes?” he said into my mouth.
I pushed him onto the bed, merging my body with his. A Valentine’s make out session.
I stopped and sat up, straddling him. His excitement was pressing up against me through his jeans. I scooped up some rose petals into my palm and blew them. They fell onto his face, and he laughed.
“I really love it, Dean.”
Desire was taking me over. I peeled off my T-shirt and wiggled my eyebrows at him. “Oh, look what happened.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and he pulled himself up, burying his face in my chest, exploring my skin with his lips and tongue. I giggled as he nibbled a nipple. His spicy masculine scent was driv
ing me wild, and I quivered under his touch. He knew just how to unleash my wildest desires.
I pulled off his top, then rolled off him, clawing at my jeans. Bloody denim always got in the way. Once off, the boxers went with them. I rolled back on top of him, his jeans and underwear halfway down his legs.
He laughed as we got back to the kissing, his hard cock resting against my belly. I could feel it still in … the piercing. Greg had noticed that I was interested in it from our little chat—not that I’d be discussing it with him anymore. I wanted to … know, to really feel it as a part of Dean. And it was a part of him, had been an aspect of my introduction to his penis before it had become an instrument of pleasure for me—I’d head-butted it in an incident involving underwear on his bedroom floor.
I laughed.
“What?” he whispered as the kiss paused.
“Nothing.”
There was a restlessness to me tonight. I rolled off him again, not giving him a chance to fully remove his jeans.
He gasped as I took him into my mouth. “Jake …”
The metal ring tickled my palate. I licked it with a curious tongue.
“Wait, Jake …”
I stopped. “Why?”
“Let me take it out.”
“Leave it in.” I kissed the ring.
“Seriously?”
I looked up at him. He was propped up on his elbows, a rose petal stuck to his right cheek. “Yeah.”
“But …”
“But what?”
“I never thought you’d go for it.”
“You what? Why would you say that?”
“I just … I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare you with it.”
“Why would it scare me?” I gave the ring a little bite.
“Kinky.”
“Maybe.”
“Interesting.”
“If it scared me, I’d just head-butt it again.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, please don’t.”
“Never. I love it too much.”
Love it … not him …
Shut up!
Love your dick! And I love …
Shut up!
“You okay?”
I snapped out of my little wander. Stupid inner voice pulling me out of the moment. With a quick mental backhander, I dove straight back in, devouring him.
My wild heart wouldn’t stop, the sounds of his pleasure driving me crazy. I stopped giving him head and grabbed the lube and condoms from his bedside drawers.
“You’re really on one tonight.” He was breathless, a big grin on his face.
Without another word, I was back on the bed. I offered him the condom.
He hesitated.
“Unless you want me to do it?” I wondered.
“Not that …”
“What?”
“We don’t need it.”
“We don’t?”
“I’m fae. We don’t carry disease at all. Not possible.”
“Really?”
“I promise you. And you can’t get pregnant, so—”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I just … didn’t want to bring it up. What we have is special, and I don’t want to … spoil it.”
I ran my fingers down his chest. “Why would you spoil it?”
“I don’t wanna scare you off.”
I leaned in and kissed him. “You won’t.” I straddled him once more, flinging the gold foil packet across the room.
My need was off the charts now. Enough talk, I wanted him in all his glory. Our skin locked in a new way. I slicked us both up, I climbed on board before he could move.
He gasped as he entered me, and so did I. Holy shit! That metal ring struck my sweet spot in such a way my eyes were about to roll back. My world had been opened up to new pleasures.
“Jake …”
I wanted more of the hit, of the exquisite delight inside me over and over again. He was watching me, dark eyes boring into me with obsidian lust. This was my ship to drive. I moved my hips and rode us both to mind-blowing ecstasy.
With one leg wrapped around Dean, my head on his chest, I giggled.
“What?” he asked.
We were done, locked together in post-bang snuggles. “I can’t believe you think I’d worry about a cock piercing.”
“Part of me did think you’d been traumatized a little by it. How wrong I was. You were a wild man tonight.”
I blushed a little. “Yeah … I was.”
He ran his hands through my hair. “No complaints here.”
“Good to hear.”
“Fancy a shower?”
“Sure.”
“It’ll be nice to finally get out of my jeans.”
I laughed at the denim still halfway down his legs. “Kind of sexy.”
“I’ll show you sexy.”
I rolled off him, and he spanked my arse. Slowly, I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “You want more, you gotta come and get it.”
And I was off, running into the bathroom. This was all that silly shit that I’d, well, missed and lost and was loving every minute of.
I clicked on the shower and stood under the hot water, waiting.
Dean strode into the bathroom, naked, holding his jeans up like dead prey. The room was steaming up fast, and I lost sight of his face through the glass. His form was still there, though, just … standing there.
“Tease.”
He still didn’t make a move.
“You scared, Tseng? Have I worn you out?”
Nothing, not a word.
“Come on, Dean. The water will get cold.”
Silence, no sign of movement.
What the hell?
I opened the cubicle door and he was just … standing there, staring at me. The look on his face was empty, so damn empty. My veins flooded with ice.
“D-Dean?”
He wasn’t even blinking.
I couldn’t … just couldn’t. My mind screamed, my inner demons suddenly clawing their way back to life.
He didn’t want me, this was all a dream I’d wake from soon, drenched in sweat, needing a line of cocaine, ravaged with guilt and pining for my dead husband. Soon this would all be ripped away. Who was I kidding to think this was real, that I could be anything other than broken and lonely and destined for destruction?
“Jake?”
His voice snapped me out of it, let me catch my breath.
Dean’s handsome face was full of concern, not empty, and I was still in the bathroom with him—both of us naked in the steam-filled room.
“What the hell?” I gasped.
“You okay?”
I rushed him, grabbing his face, inspecting every inch of it. He was blinking, and he wasn’t still anymore, his hands on me.
“What’s the matter, Jake?”
“I, er …” What was I gonna say? Oh, I just had a little bit of a panic attack.
Maybe that was it—anxiety coming along to remind me that I was still a work in progress.
I hugged him tight. “Sorry.”
“What for?”
“I … don’t know. For being a freak.”
“Don’t be daft. Well, you were a freak in bed.”
I chucked into his chest.
He spanked me gently. “Get in the shower. It’s my turn.”
We’d had sex again, up against the glass of the shower cubicle. I’d been so friggin’ loud—remembering the way I’d cried out as I now sat up in Dean’s bed, watching a film on his laptop.
I tried not to think about it. Maybe no one heard. Greg and Nay had rooms on the floor above, and the mansion had thick walls. Yeah, not thinking about it …
The film was a sci-fi drama. Pretty good, what I could make out. I was too busy making sure I could feel him beside me, hear his breathing, revel in his warmth.
That little episode in the bathroom was niggling at me. I know my head can be a mess at times, but really? I didn’t imagine it. He was … empty.
Fuck! I couldn’t do this. He was here and warm and full of … Dean. It must have been me. It had to be.
It was real …
I reached for the popcorn bowl nestled between his legs at the same time he did. Our hands knocked, and my heart fluttered. What was the protocol for popcorn-dip clash? I’d never encountered it before.
Man, did I know how to overthink everything.
I went to pull away, letting him grab his handful first. But he took my hand in his, interlocking his fingers with mine. I stared at our linked hands, not knowing how to move next.
Why was my mouth so bloody dry?
An alien creature was snogging a human on the laptop screen. Heat rushed through me, a combination of happy heat and the kind that made my brow perspire.
It was one thing to be sleeping with Dean, but this was something else entirely. How bloody ridiculous! I had no problem with going down on him, but he holds my hand and I get all weird.
Something else …
We snuggle!
Joining of hands …
Intimate and …
What?
Romantic …
“This film is weird,” Dean said.
I turned to look into his eyes, gnawing my bottom lip, wanting to be chewing on my nails. That was one bad habit that refused to die.
Lamplight glimmered in those onyx depths.
Damn.
“It is a bit,” I agreed.
Neither of us were watching the alien make out session.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jake.”
That heat went to my cheeks. Oh, shit!
“And, er, to you.”
“It’s been a nice evening. Really nice.”
Our hands were still locked together. “It has.”
“You okay? You look like you’re burning up.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s the hand-holding, right? I can—”
“Don’t let go.” I licked my dry lips. The thought of his hand being taken away didn’t sit right. “I … like it.”
He smiled in that gorgeous way that lit up his whole face. Dean Tseng was all about the dark, brooding looks, but when a smile came into the mix, it was spectacular.
My nerves stopped sparking, bullshit subsiding. I just had to go with it, not think too much. It wasn’t like he was on one knee or anything.
I booted that thought right out into the atmosphere, as far away from me as it could go.