Then the sirens came.
Wendell gritted his teeth, not wanting to risk opening his mouth and laughing hysterically before succumbing to tears. Emma was going to kill him, if Henry didn’t first.
Chapter Seventeen
A few days later
Emma took a deep breath and exhaled. Don’t yell at him, don’t yell at him, don’t yell at him. Setting the phone to speaker, she returned the receiver to its cradle. She left her desk to shut the door to her office and give herself some privacy.
“Goddamnit, Wendell,” Emma moaned. At least she hadn’t yelled.
“I know. I messed up,” he said, voice deadened.
“I told you go up on the mountain. Commune with nature. How the hell did you end up naked and drunk in a poor old woman’s backyard?” she cried.
“I told you the therapy was a bad idea,” he snapped.
Emma whistled low. “Oh no, don’t you dare blame this on anyone but yourself. You have to stop.”
Tension coursed through her, so she shimmied up her pencil skirt and did some walking lunges around her office. One of the perks of private conference calls. It was also more productive than throwing a leather-bound casebook against the wall.
“Are you going to handle it or not?” he demanded, sounding more like the werewolf she’d encountered on her first day.
She stopped the lunges. This time she wasn’t cowed, just disappointed.
Her tone softened. “Of course I am. I just hate seeing you do this to yourself.”
Emma was starting to understand what Henry meant about having one of those clients you would keep seeing, no matter what. Wendell didn’t feel like a father figure, exactly, because he would be a horrible one. But definitely a fucked-up older uncle figure she truly wanted to see do better for himself. This was the first time he didn’t sound contrite. Instead it seemed like he was accepting his fate.
She wasn’t sure if Henry had just given her the brush-off on Friday night when she brought up her concerns about the supernats, but she sure as hell was going to bring it up again today.
Wendell broke the silence. “Tell me what happens and if I need to come in.”
The line went dead.
Emma let out a frustrated growl and resumed her lunges. Was she too much of a bleeding heart? Henry was wrong. Some people couldn’t simply will themselves into reforming. They needed help, compassion, and consequences, if necessary. More supernats were finally trusting her to handle her cases on her own, but that was all under the presumption that she could wave a wand and they could keep doing what they were doing.
Riiip. Her stomach tightened and dropped. Her tights. Oh damn, her tights. She waddled over to her desk to check the time. Ugh. She had a motion in limine hearing in twenty minutes. Tights were the absolute worst. Too bad garters belts left things a little too breezy for her comfort in court.
Looking like an awkward crab, she checked the damage. A sizable but not disastrous hole was just left of center of the crotch area where the seams all met. She sighed. It would be annoying as hell, but with today’s schedule, she wouldn’t have time to buy a new pair until the afternoon. Her mouth set into a grim line, she pulled her tights up, shoved her skirt back down, and smoothed everything into place. A fine way start to the week.
***
“Boss, I think your brain is gone,” Rick said, breaking Henry’s thoughts.
He blinked at his computer screen and focused back on his assistant.
“Maybe,” he admitted.
He and Rick had been working on a brief for the better part of the afternoon. The document was becoming long-winded, but a new fairy who still didn’t have solid control over her wings was facing jail time. She’d broken into a blood bank and caused thousands of dollars of damage for her vampire boyfriend, who was equally young and hadn’t mastered mind control yet. The kid hadn’t even known about the supernat blood CSA.
Abernathy’s hands were tied because the blood bank wanted to press charges, and the video evidence was piled high. He might have to ask Daphne to work with the fairy to teach her to hide her wings in case this all went to hell.
Emma’s arguments from Bat Night resurfaced in his brain, but he shoved them away. You couldn’t create a government from thin air. How the hell would anything be enforced? Or funded? It was a hare-brained scheme from a well-meaning but idealistic young woman. All they could do was help their clients to the best of their abilities.
“You want to resume this party tomorrow?” Rick asked, checking his watch.
Henry glanced at the clock on his computer—well after five—and nodded. He and Emma had started the day early, and he was exhausted. He rubbed his eyes with the edge of his palms. When he opened them, Rick was grabbing his empty coffee mug and notepad.
“Good work today. Really appreciate the help,” Henry added.
Rick fixed narrowed eyes on him. “What did you say to me?”
Henry stared at a bookshelf self-consciously. “What? I was just thanking you for the help.”
To Henry’s horror, Rick started cackling. “You’re never nice to me.”
Embarrassment flushed his cheeks. Was he that much of a curmudgeon?
“I’m nice to you!”
“No, sir. You’re nice in your own way. I’ve long since figured out that a simple ‘good, thanks’ usually means ‘you’re the absolute best for staying late again.’ A disparaging ‘yeah, okay’ with an eye roll means ‘you totally saved my ass but please don’t rub it in.’ You letting me practice a magic trick means ‘I couldn’t possibly do any of this without your help.’ You do not express your gratitude outright.”
Henry stretched his jaw, refusing to confirm or deny the accusation. It was ridiculous.
“Sorry if I’ve been bad at thanking you for your efforts, but you’re reading too much into this.”
Rick gasped. “She’s making you nice!” He jabbed a finger at him. “And now you’re communicating your feelings. Who are you?” he hissed.
Henry raised his hands defensively. “If it bothers you, I won’t do it again…?”
“Is the sky green?” Rick asked himself and stumbled out of the room.
“Okay then…see you tomorrow? Have a good night!” Henry called.
Rick let out a strangled yell. “Wishing me good night! Are you some sort of monster?”
The door slammed. Henry laughed and shook his head. The guy was overanalyzing a simple “thank you.” He thought the end of the day would be a good opening to ask Rick exactly what pursuing a career as a magician—or wizard—exactly entailed, but he saw now that Rick likely would’ve imploded from shock.
He slipped his phone from his pocket to call Grant. His friend had never called him yesterday to hang out, and he needed someone to confirm that Rick was imagining things. Sighing when it went straight to voicemail, he hung up. It wasn’t quite sunset, so maybe it was a little early for a vampire to be up. He still hated texting but made the effort if it was the only way Grant would ever respond to him.
Henry: Working tonight? We can grab breakfast/dinner somewhere
Nothing. He would try again in a while.
A moment later, the front door opened, and Henry heard the click of heels across the floor. He jumped to his feet but forced himself to maintain an even, steady pace. He didn’t need to run to Emma like an anxious dog the moment she got home.
Henry ambled over to her office with his hands in his pockets to find her depositing files on her desk. Standing in the doorway, he let his gaze bore into her. Emma froze and slowly looked up at him. To his satisfaction, he heard her pulse kick up.
“Hi,” he said with a rakish grin.
“Hello…” She gave him a pleased but bemused smile. “Did you say something weird to Rick? I caught him in the parking lot. He wouldn’t stop laughing at me and kept saying, ‘You’ve gone and done it now!’”
A blush stained her cheeks when he laughed, the sound a quiet, confident rumble. “Don’t worry about it.” He sauntere
d into the room to stand in front of her. “Long day?”
He hated that she looked as tired as he felt, but he had some ideas for stress relief. She swallowed, and her eyes dilated in the dim light. Blood started to rush downward to build a low, insistent pressure in his slacks.
“Very,” she said, her voice gone husky.
Emma rushed forward into his arms to place teasing kisses on his neck. He started to feel lightheaded. When he reached for his tie, she pulled away and took a step back.
“Wait.”
Henry canted his head at her. “Problem?”
Her smile was serene. “No, I just want to be able to enjoy this now that I don’t have to pretend not to notice it.”
Brow furrowed, he asked, “Notice what?”
“Your sexy tie-tug!” She clapped her hands excitedly.
Henry tried to keep his composure, but his shoulders shook with laughter. “My what?”
Emma bit her lip, her gaze flicking briefly to the ceiling in delight. “When you loosen your tie, looking disheveled but confident and in a suit…ugh.” Her eyes darkened with hunger. “Makes me wet every time.”
He exhaled a long breath as his cock pulsed impatiently. “Only going to do this once. You ready?”
She nodded, lips parted. Henry didn’t get it, but she was Emma, so he obliged her. He pinned her with his gaze before reaching up to grab the knot of his tie. Slowly, he pulled at it, tugging it back and forth until the knot slipped free.
Tossing it to the ground, he lifted his chin at her. “That what you wanted?”
Emma rushed forward and began pulling desperately at his clothes. “Everything and more.”
Grabbing her ass, he pulled her hips forward to mold against him. His shaft pushed against her lower abdomen, impatient to be inside her. Emma’s eyes fluttered shut as she moaned.
As he pressed heated kisses to the column of her neck, he gently rubbed the sensitive area with his five o’clock shadow. A shudder ran down the length of her spine as he kissed her earlobe. He reached for the zipper at the back of her skirt and shoved it down until the garment slipped down her legs in one fluid movement. They both looked down. For some reason, her tights were ripped at the crotch. It revealed enough of her cheerful pink panties that the hole looked like a bull’s-eye. When he tried to meet her gaze, she was staring casually at the ceiling.
Henry smirked. “Did you have a mishap today?”
She lifted her nose up and said archly, “What of it?”
“I’m not complaining. Makes my job easier.”
“Color me intrigued,” she said, her embarrassment deserting her.
Henry stripped her until she was left in nothing but her underwear and ripped tights. He brought her body against his and kissed her hard. She drove him out of his mind in the best way possible.
***
Emma shoved her dumpster fire of a day at the courthouse out of her head. She wanted him close. Wanted him hard. Feeling this way with Henry was all she needed. He guided them to the couch and pushed down on her shoulders until she sat. The outline of his shaft showed in sharp relief against his dark slacks. She leaned forward to unbuckle his belt, but it disappeared.
To her surprise, he spread her legs open and knelt on the floor in front of her. Her breath caught as he dipped his head down. She felt his warm breath on her thighs and then jumped a little when he used his fangs to rip the nylon and widen the hole further. As far as embarrassing wardrobe mishaps to have, this one was turning out to be exquisite. Henry tugged her panties to the side, and she couldn’t help but push her hips toward him.
In response, his hand clamped down on her hips to keep her still. But before she could cry out in frustration, he pressed his lips to her aching core. The muscles in her arms, back, chest, legs—everywhere—tensed.
Her breath died on her lips. His tongue explored her with the laziness of a summer day. The slow, torturous care he took with her whenever he did this was…sweet. It made her feel too-tender things she wasn’t ready for. Emma felt him suck her clit, and the air whooshed back into her lungs.
She clenched her muscles out of reflex and grabbed his hair to pull him closer. Henry’s strokes became bolder, and she relished every touch. His eagerness to get her off only made her wetter. She knew she was close, but she wanted to savor the warmth washing over her.
Emma took a deep, steadying breath and gently pushed him away. He lifted his head and stared at her with heated, hungry eyes. His mouth and chin glistened with her arousal. Her heart started to slip away from her while her pussy tensed, aching for him. Never breaking his gaze from her, he discarded the rest of the suit that clung to his body. Stepping from his pile of clothes, he prowled toward her, his erection stiff and flushed. He took a seat on the couch next to her but pulled at her shoulders until she got the idea and straddled him. Kneeling above him, she widened her thighs and smiled at him unabashedly.
Henry leaned forward and ran his hands through her hair and tugged hard enough to apply delicious pressure without hurting her. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“What are you smirking at?” he whispered in her ear, not unkindly.
She felt his cock rubbing against her impatiently.
“Because I know something good is coming.”
Instead of replying, he slid one hand between them to pull her panties to the side again. She sank onto him in one smooth, swift movement. A cry of abandon escaped her. Their bodies intertwined, joined—it drove all thought from her mind. She felt addicted to the sensation, simultaneously wanting it to end in explosive orgasm and last forever.
Sometimes a lady just needed a good, hard fucking. Sometimes a gentleman needed the same. They accommodated these wishes, their bodies rising and falling to meet each other. She widened her straddle, taking him deeper. Her silky black tights slid against his bare skin. She bit her lip as she felt the delicious rip of the tights as he completely destroyed them. She squeezed the length of him, ripples of pleasure rushing through her. Her desire to hold out forever lost. Emma snaked a hand between their bodies, and she rubbed her clit while he thrust into her.
Henry nipped her ear and muttered, “That’s right, I want to hear you scream.”
She nodded stupidly, only half processing his words. Her eyes glazed over, and the world grew fuzzy. She turned her head to the side, her hair falling away and exposing her neck. She angled it closer to his lips, an invitation. What in the hell was she doing? But letting him bite her seemed like the sanest idea in the world.
“Emma?” was all he asked.
Yes, it could hurt, but she wanted him to feel as good as she did. Part of her urged her to take her orgasm and let that be the end of it. But a stupid, soft weak part of her wanted him to feel more than amazing, like she did.
“I’m so fucking close. Bite me.” She panted. “Please.”
She couldn’t wait for him to decide. Her eyes slid shut as she forgot how to think and let herself absorb every feeling. True to his word, she screamed as she circled her clit again, falling over the edge.
His sharp fangs sank into her neck, and once again, she lost her breath.
***
Henry was all sensation. As wave after wave of pleasure wracked Emma’s body, his groan reverberated against her neck. It was wet with the blood he sucked into his mouth. He reveled in the smooth, coppery taste of her. His cock pulsed as he came inside her. The world around them felt minuscule, then gargantuan. A foreign sensation slipped over him—exaltation.
Their chests heaved from the intensity of the moment. Not wanting to take too much from her, he slipped his fangs from her. He winced as she sucked in a sharp breath at the movement. He nicked his forefinger and pressed his blood against the wound. Hopefully the pain would fade to a dull ache shortly.
When they were sufficiently recovered, Emma murmured, “Is your blood another party trick?”
He looked up at her and smiled. Her lips were swollen, hair mussed, eyes dazed. Blood was smeared against the s
ide of her neck. Gorgeous.
“Party trick is a good descriptor. Good for covering your tracks after feeding, but it can’t heal anything much more extensive than that.”
“Cool.” She gave him a sloppy smile. “That was good.”
“Damn right.” Henry ran his fingers through her hair, loving how she looked straddling him. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“Right back at you. That kind of connection is…overpowering.” She squeezed his shoulder.
There it was—that feeling of exaltation again. Taking one of her hands in his, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Good, maybe we can have a repeat later.”
“That’s a nice idea.” She captured his mouth in a brief kiss before climbing off him. He chuckled softly when she stumbled slightly before regaining her balance.
She raised a forefinger. “Gonna clean up. Back in a sec,” she said. He admired the view as he watched her disappear from the room.
When she returned, Emma wore one of his t-shirts and her cheerful pink underwear. She held out his bathrobe to him. It took him a moment to register the worry marring her features. What had happened in the few minutes she’d been gone?
“We probably shouldn’t be naked for this conversation.”
Wary, Henry wrapped the robe around himself before reclaiming his seat on the couch. “What’s wrong?”
She started to wander around the room, arms crossed over her chest. “I need you to explain exactly why and how you and Abernathy struck up this deal to help the supernats.”
His chest tightened. “Tell me why.”
She paused. Then threw the brick at his stomach: “Abernathy is pulling the plug, and we need to convince her otherwise.”
***
Emma knew she was a coward. After running into Abernathy at the courthouse, she’d come to the office, fully prepared to break the news to Henry. But he’d looked so charming and at ease that she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it yet. She needed to be close to him before it became real. Because seriously—what were they going to do?
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