Her mate had kept her nightmares at bay and she’d gotten a ton of sleep. But now she was restless, edgy. Again.
A whole day of wandering the cabin did not make for a happy X. She was tired of reading and it felt like the walls were closing in on her. But it was better than heading out the door and running into anyone. She just didn’t want to deal with that shit right now.
Rhys stormed into the cabin, his face clouded, looking like he’d had a shitty day at work. The door slammed behind him. They both stared at each other, their primal need for each other flared strong. She found an outlet for her restless energy, and her only source of comfort was in his arms.
Without saying a word, she floated over to him. He watched her advance, letting her set the pace.
When she reached him, she snaked her arms around his neck. His smoldering hazel eyes lit with more green than brown, gaining intensity as the scent of desire increased.
She let her fangs drop and nipped at his lip, liking his groan as she lapped at the drop of blood that the sharp point drew.
He tried to hold back, but she felt his resistance crumble as he bent his head down and captured her mouth, pulling her tightly against him. The steel length of him pressed into her belly and she enjoyed the delicious feeling of his solid body and warm, hot mouth.
It was her first real kiss.
She’d used her mouth for a lot of things over the years, but kissing passionately had never been one of them. Before life with Sigma, her teenage years included only a few chaste pecks with the gangly boy who took her to homecoming.
This was hot, it was intoxicating, and the intimacy was almost too much to bear.
As if sensing she was about to freeze up, he drew his mouth down her neck, laying sweltering kisses on her sensitized skin. He lifted her shirt to get his hands onto her bare skin while she worked his shirt up above his shoulders. He broke away from her only to shrug out of his shirt and toss it to the side.
She loved the way his muscles bulged and flexed as he leaned down to cup her bottom and lift her. X wrapped her jean-clad legs around him, wondering how decadent it would feel to have no clothing separating them. Burying her face into his neck, she clung to him, deftly licking the skin she planned to bite.
“Fuck, yes,” he rasped.
Turning her until her back hit the wall, he pressed into her and she ground into him. She struck, her fangs sinking in to find his sweet vein. He hissed, but it was far from agony. His rigid length pulsed against her abdomen.
She only took a few mouthfuls before she was overwhelmed, the power more than she could handle. The scent of his arousal, the heat blazing through her body, the pulse between her legs—she needed more.
Sensually licking over the puncture wounds, she gave them a little kiss. He groaned and undulated his hips into her, seeking some release to the pressure building inside him.
X lifted her head, looking up at him through her lashes. His face was tight with desire, his breathing heavy. Beneath her touch, muscles quivered from holding himself back.
“I want more,” she whispered.
His eyes flared, but instead of rushing to strip them both down, he proceeded with care, giving her plenty of time to call a time-out.
Lifting her shirt higher, he pulled it off and dropped it beside them; his stare ate up the view. She wore a standard black bra, nothing fancy, but the way his gaze burned made it seem like it was the most expensive scrap of lace.
With deliberate slowness, he slid his hand behind her. She arched her back for him, pressing her breasts into his chest. He unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor, next to the shirt. She pressed against the wall and he leaned back, seeking an unburdened view of her assets.
“They’re perfect.” His hands cupped each breast, his thumbs brushing her nipples. A shiver traveled down her spine.
“They’re big.” She arched into him, his hands were so warm and doing the most wonderful things.
“I know. Perfect.”
Rhys bent his head, licking his way down to one nipple, then pulling it into his mouth. X ran her fingers through his short, russet hair, a moan escaping her when his teeth gently tugged at her tender flesh.
He turned his attention to the other breast and she used the opportunity to stroke his muscles. He was a male in his prime, a warrior, and he had the scars to prove it. His skin was hot and solid, like steel lined his bones. How long had she admired his broad, muscular shoulders? Now she could touch them to her heart’s desire.
Her body needed even more, his blood ignited every nerve ending in it. Unwrapping her legs from his waist, she placed her feet on the floor and gently pushed at him until he lifted his face to her. His eyes were hooded, dangerous in their smoldering intensity.
X ran her hands down his chest, enjoying every inch of rippled flesh along the way, until her hands ran over a pale rigid scar that crossed his right side.
He froze. Her fingers played over the ridge. It was a knife wound, one that ran deep, with scarring that could only be caused by silver.
“I didn’t mean to cut so deeply,” she admitted.
It had been their first meeting, their first fight. She and E were more than a little concerned facing Guardians, so when the ripple of awareness that the mighty male she faced-off with was her destined mate…well, her reflexes took over and she shanked him. With a silver-lined blade, no less. She was only barely able to pull back so she didn’t completely puncture his liver, causing him to bleed out before healing could begin.
“I wear my scars from you with pride.”
His said it so openly, so completely honest. She knew exactly what he meant. Her scars were minimal, any silver-made wounds not scarring as badly thanks to her vampire half, but she earned every one. Each one she earned from a Guardian, especially Rhys, was one that hadn’t killed her.
Her fingers played over the twisted flesh.
“Does it cause you pain?” she asked.
There was a hitch in his breathing, and she knew the answer.
Again, he was honest. “Sometimes it makes itself known.”
“I’ll have to make up for that.”
Leaning down, she ran her tongue down the length of the pale scar. He drew in a sharp breath and dug his hands into her hair.
Not stopping at the end of the long scar, she kneeled as she ran her tongue down to the waistband of his black cargo pants.
She grinned wickedly up at him, undoing the buttons. “Remember the last time I was like this?”
“Fuck. Yes. The image of you, down on your knees, your mouth around me, was going to keep me sane for centuries.”
His eyes darkened as he watched her shove his pants down around his knees and take his massive length in her hand. Idly running her hand from base to tip, she enjoyed his reaction.
“You like this?” She ran her tongue along the same path her hand had just taken.
“Yes,” he grunted, his hands tightening in her hair.
“How about this?” She ran one fang along an engorged vein that lined his shaft.
“Especially that,” he rasped.
Using the sharp tip of that fang, she nicked the vein just enough for a drop to leak out.
Rhys jerked, his breath leaving in a rush. “Do it again.”
She complied and he jerked a second time. Then she licked the wounds closed and took him as far as she could into her mouth.
Rhys groaned and let his head drop back. “That mouth of yours is heaven.”
She tried not to smile as she sucked up and down his length, swirling her tongue along the way.
When his hips thrust with her motion, she knew he was close. Increasing the pressure and speed, she worked him into an explosion.
With a roar, Rhys went rigid, only his hips wrenching back and forth as he spilled into her mouth. She kept up her ministrations until he was well spent, his taste just as addicting as his blood.
Before she thought he had recovered, he was drawing her to her feet.
“My turn to taste you,” he growled, kicking his pants off the rest of the way. His mouth captured hers and he ripped her pants apart as he devoured her lips.
He lifted her and carried her to into the kitchen. Setting her butt down on the table, he snagged a chair behind him with his foot and broke off the kiss to sit down.
She waited for Rhys to make the first move. It was much more erotic to give up that little bit of control.
He looked deep into her eyes as he spread her knees apart. Then his eyes dropped to her center.
“Perfect.” He licked his lips and lifted her feet to his shoulders. Meeting her eyes one last time, giving her a chance to put a stop to his actions, he brought his attention back to her throbbing core.
Blowing softly as he leaned down, X almost collapsed back. It was just air, but she was on fire and the cooling breath was damn near orgasmic.
At least she thought so until his tongue delved in, licking her from core to clit. X did collapse back, but only onto her elbows. She wanted to watch everything the male was doing to her, wanted to see the titillating view of his head buried between her legs.
She was spread out on his table, the main course, as he tasted and licked. She even surprised herself when she cried out as he nibbled on her sensitive nub. He didn’t use his hands, keeping them wrapped tightly around her thighs. Only his tongue touched her center, licking, rolling and flicking over her clitoris until she arched up, shoving herself against him, her head flung back. She cried his name over and over again, hollering a “yes” in between each time. Her legs quivered, but he was relentless, didn’t let up until she reached her climax and went hurtling over the edge. He continued on, wringing every drop of pleasure out of her.
The world went blank even though X’s eyes were wide open. Usually, she retreated to a dark corner in her mind, letting her body do what nature had cursed it with, but not this time. No, she was present, she wanted it, she wanted the male who was settled between her thighs. She wanted him to keep going. She had never wanted and she wanted everything now.
Another orgasm quickly approached. Rhys shifted his head, the new angle launching her into another explosive release.
She couldn’t even call his name, only scream her pleasure, the sound bouncing off the walls.
Abruptly, Rhys stood, her legs slipping off his shoulders, only for him to catch them and wrap them around his waist as he pulled her up against him. X was damn near boneless, but she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hung on as he lifted and carried her through the cabin into his bedroom.
The thought of soon feeling this male inside of her stoked the furnace raging within. After two of the most powerful orgasms in history, she should be spent. But she would never get enough of Rhys Fitzsimmons.
He climbed up onto the bed and held her to him as he laid her down and stretched out over her.
Even in her dizzying state, his heavy body on top of her shorted out her common sense and images of her first two years at Sigma shot through her head.
X gasped, her head jerking back against the mattress, her body going stiff.
Rhys rose to his elbows, nothing but concern on his face. When he saw her panicked expression, he untangled her legs and pushed off to the side, but didn’t leave the bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately.
X’s chest heaved as she managed to get her breathing under control. Why the fuck would she have a panic attack now? She was with someone she respected deeply, had the hots for, and she wanted to be with him, in every sense of the word. She had never lost her head over what happened to her.
“No, it’s not you.” She drew her hands down her face, then gave up and threw an arm over her eyes. She shouldn’t feel humiliated but she did. “I don’t get it. I’ve never had that reaction.”
“Is it because I’m special?” She heard the subtle teasing in his voice, trying to lighten the mood.
“After my conditioning,” bitterness dripped off that last word, “I made sure it was always just about fucking, and I was always in control, even when I mentally checked out. I guess the feel of a male pinning me down surfaced a lot of memories.” X lifted her arm and rolled to her side, facing him. “Are you bitter? That I was with others, but I can’t deal being with you right now?”
“No,” he said emphatically. “Sigma ruined the act of sex for you, made it into a tool, a weapon.”
So. True. “I used that weapon a lot,” she admitted quietly.
“Alex, you’re only thirty years old. I’ve been around a few centuries. It’s safe to say my bed count is higher than yours. Do you hold that against me?” When she shook her head, he continued, “Your history only matters to me because it’s your history. I hold no blame toward you, only toward those who hurt you.”
“You’re a good guy, you know that?” Tracing his face with a finger, they lay there for several minutes facing each other. Out of the blue, her stomach rumbled.
His lips quirked. “Want to help me make supper?”
*****
X flowed gracefully to her feet to not disturb the sleeping male. After they had made supper and eaten, engaging in forced small talk, he curled up with her in bed, ready to protect her sleep. In a role reversal, Rhys had fallen asleep while she lay awake thinking. She had figured out what she needed.
Stooping down to grab her shirt, she noiselessly dressed. Then she grabbed the bag the Guardians had packed for her that she had never unpacked. When she was done with something, she had always returned it back to the bag. A giant clue she wasn’t ready to settle in. She made it to the door of the bedroom when she stopped.
Come on. I’ve never been chicken shit in my life.
Turning back, she faced the large male passed out on the bed.
“Rhys.”
His eyes opened straight on her, and he sat up, his expression circumspect.
“I’ve gotta go.” Good one. Way to explain the shit going on in your head.
His brows drew down, waiting for her to continue.
“I was just so young, you know?” She adjusted the duffel to fling it over her shoulder. “I need to be alone with myself for a while. Learn what this hot mess is all about. The last twelve years were about survival. I can’t go straight from being Agent X to being your mate. I need some time.”
Rhys exhaled slowly, his powerful shoulders slumping. “You know I’ll give you all the time you need.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “You’re the most amazing male, like, ever. I need to learn how to be Alex King before I can be E’s friend, or Sarah and Ron’s aunt, or…your mate.”
“I understand.”
“And…I need you to stay out of my dreams. I can’t repay you for your years of protection, but I need to face them now.”
He leveled his gaze on her. “I’ll stay away.”
She paused again. “Thanks.” Fuck, that sounded lame.
He lifted his chin toward the hook by the door. “Take my car. There’s some cash in the glove box if you need it.”
“I have a stash, too. I was going to hoof it, but,” she snagged the keys off the wall, “a drive sounds nice.” A radio sounded even nicer.
She gave him a small smile, mostly as an apology, before she left to find the car. He didn’t have to tell her how to get to it. She could find the garage and get the car, or she’d just boost one of the other ones instead.
Swiftly making her way down to the lodge and into the garage, she didn’t run across anyone. There was a plethora of nondescript dark sedans to choose from, so she hit the unlock button and found the one that was his.
Climbing in, she groaned. It smelled like Rhys; all piney and virile male. His scent was comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. Ignoring the hurt in her chest, she jammed the keys in and started the car.
She made it out to the main road with no interference. The other Guardians wouldn’t be pleased when they realized she had left. Mercury and Bennett didn’t really trust her and wouldn’t want her roaming
freely.
Then there was the council. What would happen when they found out about her? She should stay and face them, make her presence known to all shifter and vampire kind. So if she “mysteriously” died, everyone would know one of the councils was behind it.
While Madame G may have been cruel and evil, X was sure she wasn’t as underhanded and devious as the Lycan Council could be. The Vampire Council, too, but they were busy with Demetrius’ revolt.
Aiming the car away from West Creek, X drove into the darkness.
Chapter Eight
X didn’t have to consult a map. She had known the way by heart. This was her first real stop after leaving Rhys behind. She maneuvered on the winding, desolate road, until she neared the area.
Pulling off the side of the road, memories assaulted her. Oh, the nightmares she’d have once she fell asleep after this. She got out of the car after killing the engine, and eyed the barren stretch of road that meandered its way down the side of a mountain. It plugged up so badly in the winter that once the mine went dry no one was interested in battling the elements to settle anywhere on the stretch of mountain that the road served.
It had been a favorite area for her parents to go at dusk. Once the sun settled deep below the horizon, her mom would hop out, and X and her dad would shift. They’d just run and be free.
Fog drifted away from her mouth with each exhale. The temperature was chilly in town, but it was even colder on the mountain. It smelled like it might snow.
With resignation, X trekked down the steep side of the road where the Agents had shoved her parent’s car after burning the bodies within.
It was precipitous, the land rugged. She even put her boots on for the trek. It wasn’t long before she smelled the rusted metal where the mangled car had struck a tree and stopped in its forever resting place. The accident wouldn’t have been visible from any stretch of the road. The Agents had chosen their attack position well.
Off to the right of the hunk of metal were three mounds where the earth had been disturbed, three makeshift graves. She presumed her brother, after searching for his family, found the horrific scene and laid them to rest.
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