Envy fa-3

by J. R. Ward

  Devina seemed momentarily nonplussed. But it didn’t last. “Paralyzed by grief, Adrian?”

  An eternity passed.

  And sometime in those infinite heartbeats between her taunts and his nonreaction, he started to grow cold: His emotions ceased to run to any kind of extreme, as if they had burned out—and like a star that collapsed in on itself, he felt a turning tide that retracted him out of Devina’s reach.

  She would have been better off to just leave him alone and let him stew in his anger. But now that she’d pushed him into this arctic clarity, for the first time, he could respond solely with his mind and not his heart.

  He released his grip on Jim and stepped away from the savior. As he separated them, Jim’s head ripped around as if he were about to intercede, but Adrian just stood next the guy and faced the enemy.

  “Did you want something, Devina?” Adrian said in a dark voice. “Or is this just a social call.”

  Cue another round of silence. This time, however, Devina started to fidget with her long hair, her short skirt, her gold bangles.

  And for Ad, there was no satisfaction at ruining the demon’s fun. There was just a deadly quiet in his chest, a resonate power that for all his ferocious warrior instincts, he had never gotten close to before.

  It was as if he’d been reborn. And he’d be damned if he ever went back to who he had been.

  Literally.

  As Jim looked over at the other angel, he thought, Okay, who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Adrian Vogel.

  The male beside him wasn’t anything close to the guy he’d met and worked with for the last two rounds in the war. This was a robot who looked like Ad: utterly identical, but completely rewired from the original.

  There was no emotion in his face, his body, his vibe.

  Nothing.

  And something told Jim the shift was permanent, like the guy’s motherboard had been blown out and replaced. Hard to know if it was good news or bad, though. The lightning-quick temper was gone. The passion was gone. The heat was gone. In its place? Icy calculation—which made him untouchable in a way.

  And that was a sword that cut both ways, didn’t it. But whatever, there was time to worry about repercussions later.

  Jim turned his head back to Devina. “So what’s it going to be. Social? Or business.”

  Devina swept her brunette hair up and out, the waves bouncing with health like she was in a shampoo commercial. “I’m very busy.”

  “Then why are you standing here talking.” Jim took out his Marlboros and shook for a cig. “If you’re such a busy little girl.”

  “Oh, you have no idea how much I’m working on.” Her nasty smile was the kind of thing horror movies tried to pull off and couldn’t get anywhere near. “I’m all about the game changers. And I’m looking forward to this round being over.”

  “Because you like the taste of losing?” He took out his Bic and lit up. “Strange appetite you have there, sweetheart.”

  “I like the taste of you.” She ran her hand down her body. “And I’m going to gorge myself soon enough.”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Have you forgotten our agreement?”

  “Oh, I remember it.”

  “And I haven’t lied.”

  “You must be so proud.”

  When Jim said nothing further, she played with her hair a little more . . . and that was it. She just stood there in front of them, all girlie-girlie, going-nowhere. Hell, maybe she thought she was being admired. Maybe she was dumb-blonding it, even though she didn’t really have hair. Maybe she was . . .

  Holy shit, she was having a girlfriend moment, wasn’t she. Sulking because she hadn’t been able to find him. That was the “why,” wasn’t it.

  Fucked up. This was too fucked up.

  Date from hell was right.

  And even though he didn’t know why she couldn’t find him, sometimes luck was with you.

  Abruptly, her gaze shifted over to the house. In the back window, in the kitchen, Veck and Reilly made an appearance. They were both looking disheveled, and it was clear a whole lot of somethin’-somethin’ had just happened somewhere : They were both in the glow-zone, happy and satisfied, to the point where Jim was pretty damn sure if the lights were to go out, they’d be glowing in the dark.

  “I fucking hate them,” Devina said, crossing her arms over her breasts.

  Bet you do, he thought. Because those were two people in love right there.

  And the envy was killing her, her face screwing down tight, eyes lighting up with hatred. She wanted that with him.

  Ha, ha.

  “So did you need something,” he asked in a low, deep voice.

  Her head snapped around. “Do you.”

  To keep her going, the answer, of course, was not to be nice. And gee fuckin’ whiz, that was so not hard.

  “Not from you.” Jim assumed a bored expression as he took a drag and exhaled. “Never from you.”

  The fury on her face made him happy. Until she growled, “Because of that fucking Sissy.”

  Wrong turn, he thought. Waaaaay wrong turn on that one.

  “Sissy who.”

  “Don’t toy with me.”

  “I’m not. At least, not at the moment.” He let his lids go half-mast. “When I play with you, you’ll know it.”

  Even though the words sickened him, it got her off the scent: Abruptly, she flushed as if she were remembering them together, and then she smiled, big and slow.

  “Promise?” she said huskily.

  “Promise.”

  At that, she did a little twirl of joy.

  Great. Like his stomach wasn’t already nauseous.

  “Then again, maybe I’m a liar,” he drawled. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Guess so.” Her eyes went up and down his body. “And I can’t wait.”

  Frankly, the shit made Jim shrivel, but he blocked that from her. And he wasn’t taking for granted that he had total control over the demon. Even infatuated, she was a deadly piece of work, and he couldn’t be sure this weapon of his was going to last forever.

  For however long he could, though, and at whatever cost to himself it required, he was going to try to keep this connection cultivated.

  “Well, I think it’s time to bring this round to a close, Jim.” Devina did another pirouette. “I have to go back to work, but I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “If Veck’s in this house, why do you need to be anywhere else.”

  “Like I said, I’m a busy girl, as you’ll find out.” She blew him a kiss. “Bye for now. And Adrian, call me if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

  On that note, she was off into the night, fogging up, fogging out.

  Shit. If she wasn’t here with Veck, he had to assume the fight was somewhere else.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, ready to hit something.

  “No,” Adrian said. “We stay here. We stay with Veck.”

  Jim looked over. Old Adrian? Would have been the one seething to cut loose and follow her. New Adrian? The icy motherfucker was tight as hell, his cold, dispassionate eyes shifting over to Jim’s.

  “She’s not going to crack us,” Ad announced. “We’re going to stay focused and right here. Smoke and mirrors ain’t going to move me.”

  Now, that’s what I’m talking about, Jim thought, with respect.

  At that moment, the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house broke through the night. Flashing out to the street with Adrian, Jim unsheathed his dagger—except then he saw the little Domino’s sign glowing on the sedan’s roof.

  Oh, maaaaaaan. Pizza . . . and sex. Maybe Devina had a point.

  Hard not to be envious.

  The deliveryman got out of his beater and hoofed it up the walkway. Veck answered the door, paid cash, disappeared back inside. Car drove off.

  In the moments that followed, Jim itched to go after Devina; he could sense her presence elsewhere in the city . . . but maybe that was what she wanted
?

  You could never trust her.

  New Adrian was right: They stayed here and hung tough.

  “Thanks, man,” Jim said without looking away from the closed and locked front door of the house.

  “No problem,” was the terse answer.

  CHAPTER 33

  Veck didn’t track what the pizza tasted like. For all he knew, the thing could have been topped with rubber tires and chunks of plaster.

  He couldn’t stop thinking of Reilly up on that bathroom counter, her legs spread, her hand brushing against her core.

  Sitting next to her at the kitchen table, he was pretty sure she was thinking along similar lines, because there was a whole lot of efficiency in the way she ate. Nothing messy or unladylike—just neat and quick.

  He was the same. Except less neat.

  When they’d polished off everything but the last slice, he stretched back in his chair and looked to the ceiling.

  “So where’s your bathtub?” he asked, shooting for casual.

  Cue that side smile of hers. The one that made him want to kiss her all over. “I’ll show you. Are you going to finish that piece?”

  “No.” Hell, if it hadn’t been for her empty stomach grumbling, he never would have slowed down longer than it took to send off the delivery guy. But he’d wanted to make sure she ate. “You?”

  “I’m full.”

  And I’m ready to fill you up, he thought.

  Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to her. “Lead the way.”

  She did just that, taking him up the stairs and into a room that was nothing like the barren box he slept in. Her private space had nice curtains made to fit the three windows, a bed with lots of pillows, and a duvet that looked thick enough to serve as a trampoline.

  Perfect place to make love.

  “The bathroom’s through there,” she murmured, pointing across the way.

  He walked over, stepped into the darkness, and patted the wall for the switch. When he hit the thing, he nearly dropped to his knees with a prayer of thanks.

  Claw-footed. Deep as a pond. Wide as that bed out there.

  And what did you know, the faucet had enough pressure to power a fire hose.

  As the hot water rushed out and the level began to rise, he pivoted around to call for—

  “Holy . . . fuck . . .” he breathed.

  Reilly had lost her clothes and was standing naked in the doorway.

  Way to short a man’s brain out: All he saw was beautiful skin, and perfect breasts, and the swell of those hips he was dying to lock onto.

  As he tried to form a response that didn’t involve more curses, or worse, actual drooling, she pulled the tie out of her hair and shook the gloriously red lengths free . . . which made those breasts of hers sway ever so slightly.

  “Come here,” he said in a rough voice.

  She approached him with her head up and her eyes down . . . on the hard cock that was killing him to get to her.

  Stepping into his body, Reilly eased up to nip on his earlobe. “Is the water warm enough yet?”

  “You get in there”—he gripped her pelvic bones and squeezed—“and it’s going to boil.”

  He kissed her, bending down and putting their mouths together. His clothes lasted another . . . oh, minute and a half.

  And then, like the gentleman he wasn’t feeling even close to, but was damn well determined to be, he picked her up and carried her into the tub with care, settling them so they faced each other. The steam rising up between their bodies smelled like that scent he associated with her, suggesting she did this frequently, maybe with some kind of bath mix thing.

  More kissing and hands going everywhere through the currents of warm water. Except as soon as she found his erection, he jacked up and splashed a few hundred gallons onto the floor.

  “Oh, shit . . . sorry—”

  She came with him, pushing him back against the curved wall of the tub. “I’m not worried about the water.”

  As her hand locked on his cock and started stroking, he muttered through gritted teeth, “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  Well, good. Because the sight of her slick, buoyant breasts and that erotic look in her eyes was enough to make him come on their own. Add the friction? He was waaaay past his threshold.

  His hips found a rhythm to counter her own and he let his head go loose until it fell back against the tub’s curled edge. Which gave him a hell of a vantage point. The level of the water was recovering from the spill, and the rising, waving action lapped over her hard pink nipples and disappeared, only to lap back, and recede again. . . .

  Leaving her glossy. So glossy. As if he’d been licking at her himself.

  That was ultimately what kicked him off the ledge. His molars locked and he let out a loud groan as his arousal jerked and bucked against her palm, his body torquing hard.

  In response, her smile was precious, the kind you put into your mental backpack and carried with you forever.

  And for some reason . . . even though it was a mood killer . . . all he could think about was her sitting in that chair downstairs, no doubt armed, waiting for someone to come and get her.

  They were safe here together tonight, but that was not going to last. Sooner or later, he would have to go home, and she was going to be alone again. Christ, both of them getting stalked? It was time to take control of this situation and keep this incredible woman and her heartbreaking smile safe.

  Next time that Heron character showed up, he was going to take the bastard into custody. Even if it killed them both.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, clearly sensing the shift in him.

  “Oh, yeah. Very all right.”

  He dragged his head off the lip of the tub and stretched his leg out, turning the faucet off with his foot. Then he pulled her on top of him, unwilling to waste this opportunity to enjoy her.

  “I liked that a lot,” he said against her mouth. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be even better.”

  They stayed long enough for the water to take an edge from the chill, kissing, touching. Not that he needed the recovery time. He’d been ready to go right after the orgasm she gave him.

  He wanted her that much.

  “Take me to your bed?” he said.

  When she nodded, he offered her a steadying hand as she stood up and delicately stepped over the tub’s high walls onto the tile.

  “Watch it,” he warned. “It’s got to be wet.”

  “It is.” She looked down. “I’ll get some towels.”

  “And I’ll pay if we ruined your ceiling downstairs.”

  She glanced back at him, her torso twisting gracefully. “It was so worth it.”

  “And you are so beautiful,” he said softly, as he watched the light catch her curves.

  With red cheeks, she turned away to the stack of towels on the counter and began throwing them on the floor around the tub’s base.

  Even though he was more than content to watch the show, he rose up from the water and got out. The mirror over the sink made him nervous, but he forced himself to look into it. Nothing but his reflection. No shadows. Nothing that moved other than his ribs from his breathing.

  Relieved, he approached her from behind. Stepping against her warm, wet body, he bent down and kissed her shoulder.

  “I’m not . . . used to this.” She patted the last towel of that stack, as if impatient with herself. “I’m just . . . I don’t know how to handle this.”

  “You handled me just fine.” He ran his forefinger down her spine. “Better than anyone has.”

  She laughed in a little tense burst. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “Don’t. You’re something else.”

  He put his hands on her neck and caressed her back all the way to her hips. Then his lips followed the trail he’d blazed, kissing and nipping down her torso . . . and going even lower.

  Getting on his knees, Veck ran his lips up
her thighs, gradually moving closer to that juncture he’d been keeping in mind the whole time. At his gentle urging, she bent over the counter, exposing that slit of flesh that drove him insane—

  With a sudden surge, he nuzzled into her, and then sucked her into his mouth.

  Sweet . . . and hot . . . and slick against his tongue. And she loved it, too, her arms bowing out to keep her balance against the marble, her breath falling into a sharp panting rhythm.

  Using his hands, he spread her feet further to give him more room to work, and then he swept his palms up the front of her legs to grip her and keep her tight to his face.

  Fast flicking. Deep sucking. Penetration with his tongue.

  He took his time, because there was so much to explore, and he kept her on the brink until he couldn’t stand the suspense anymore. Snaking his hand up, he eased the pad of his thumb into the top of her sex at the same time he extended his tongue inside of her. Quick circles in the right place sent her flying, and he loved the way she clenched internally and kicked against him.

  When she was finished, he eased back. Through her trembling legs, he got one fuck of a view of her breasts, the two of them hanging down, the tips brushing against the marble as they swung back and forth from her breathing.

  Veck squeezed his eyes shut and needed to take a minute.

  The next time he came, it was going to be where his tongue had just been.

  Orgasm. Of. Her. Life.

  As Reilly struggled to remain upright, her body was still cruising at full speed ahead—except there was nowhere to go, however, so all the muscles of her thighs did was twitch in place. And that wasn’t the half of it. Her mind was blown, to the pot where she wasn’t exactly sure where she was.

  Turning her head, she got a faceful of toothpaste and brushes.

  Bathroom. Well, she guessed there were two locales in her house she would never look at in the same way—wait. Three. The downstairs loo as well as the kitchen.

  As the world tilted and spun, she realized that Veck had picked her up. Good plan. She didn’t think she could walk—and what a way to air-dry.

  In her bedroom, he laid her out on her duvet and covered her with half of it. “I’ll be right back.”