by Ines Johnson
His large hand cupped the back of my head. I was only able to take a short gasp of breath before his fingers bunched into a fist, and he gave my tresses a firm yank. I groaned as my head was jerked back and the column of my neck exposed.
“There’s my good girl,” Baros crooned.
I wanted to rail. I wanted to yank out of his grasp and launch a protest. I was not his. I was not a girl anymore. But damn, it was good.
And so I let him run his teeth along the sensitive spot at the pulse point beneath my jaw. I let him yank open my shirt, the buttons spilling to the floor. I let him toss me onto the bed like I was a rag doll and pull off my pants. I let him tear off his own pants and listened intently as he detailed all the naughty and depraved things he was about to do to me.
But I didn’t let him mount me. I did have some pride, after all. The moment he tried to straddle me, I flipped him over onto his back, reversing our positions like a cowgirl would hop into her saddle. Then I held him down and rode him like we were on borrowed time and running from the law.
Chapter Eighteen
Ah man, was I sore. My cramps and twinges and knots were greater in number and spread wider over my body than when Baros and I had faced off in the ring. But we’d used more weapons than swords in the bed. There had been hands and mouths and teeth and even feet.
I’d worn him like a pair of shoes that had to be returned before the stroke of midnight. In return, he’d cracked my back. You know what I mean when I say cracked my back, right? When it’s so good your spine jackknifes off the bed and bends backward like that girl in The Exorcist.
Oh, yeah. The aftershocks were still rumbling in my core. My pinkie toes still hadn’t uncurled. My lower back wasn’t quite touching the mattress yet.
Baros lay next to me, propped up on his elbow, looking down and admiring his handiwork. With his forefinger, he traced the bite marks he’d made on my breasts. His finger played a game of Connect the Dots as he went on down to the handprints he’d left on my hips. That particular mark was a masterpiece; the palm print of his hand was on my hipbone. The mark ended with the indents of his fingerprints on my ass.
I squirmed, getting hot and bothered again just thinking about the things we’d been doing for hours. Yes, hours. Because a Spartan warrior could go all night and into the dawn.
It wasn’t dawn yet. I knew that because I still had a few bars of service on my cell phone even though we were deep underground and away from satellites and cell towers. But hey, there was also a dragon and fairies running around down here, so who was I to question that the world above could hear me now if I made a call.
Anyway, I took a deep breath and snuggled into the bedding. I tried urging my lower back farther down into the mattress, but it was still arched with pleasure. Baros could tell. I saw it in his smug grin. I doubted I could go another round with him without passing out or breaking some tender part of my body. Besides, I was vulnerable enough already, and I was certain our time together was just about up.
Baros loved sex, but he didn’t like to sleep in the same bed with his lovers. He was gentlemanly enough to cuddle after. In the past, he’d usually waited until I’d fallen asleep to make his getaway. He didn’t know it was worse when I woke up in an empty bed. I’d much rather he walked out while I was still awake. He looked comfortable lying in my bed as he traced my skin like he was in no hurry to leave.
“Dame Galahad?” he said.
“What of it?” I said.
“Those knights let you near their treasures?”
“Actually, no.” I picked at an imaginary piece of lint on the pillow between us. “I’m still on a bit of a probationary status due to some … misunderstandings.”
Baros laughed. At one point in my life, it had been my sole mission to make this man laugh. His chuckle was a deep, rolling baritone that I felt in the pit of my belly. With my stomach exposed to him now, I felt it lower, and I had to press my thighs together.
“Misunderstandings? What did you do?”
I shrugged. “I may have rushed blindly into a battle, caused an invasion of Camelot, and nearly gotten an innocent killed. You know, the normal bit.”
“That’s my girl.”
I tensed. My thighs loosened their squeezing and, instead, I crossed my legs at the knees. My toes finally uncurled as numbness settled in. The small of my back landed with an anticlimactic thud on the mattress.
I wasn’t his girl. I was working here. This little interlude was just a perk of the job. I felt no shame. Men played women all the time in spy movies. Now, I was turning the tables. Equal rights. Right?
“I missed you, Lolo.”
My fingers, which had been picking at the pillow fabric, went slack. I looked away from him, careful to avoid those lusterless eyes whose depths were so easy to get caught in. I blinked a couple of times, trying to regain my Bond-like focus and stick to the mission at hand. But my quivering lady parts still held the mic.
“If that were true, you would’ve come found me after Greece.”
Baros shook his head. “You were with your new friend, Dr. Rivers. She would’ve turned me over to the Olympians.”
He had a point. Nia would’ve handed his ass over to the Olympians and held him still while he paid for his crime against her friend, Socrates. Did he think I would’ve stood by her while that happened? At the time, I was pissed enough that he would’ve been right. But now …?
I turned over, facing him, but not looking him in the eye. I focused on his broad chest, planting a trail of kisses there to distract him from his prior line of thinking. I nearly got off track myself. That man’s body was a wonderland of planes and ridges and bulges.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “Double-cross everyone and get the ring for ourselves?”
He chuckled and, now that my legs were no longer pressed together, the deep rumble hit me right between the thighs. He tilted my head up and captured my lips. I let him. It was such hard work, my job.
“Only one person can hold the ring,” he said when he let me up for air.
As he spoke, he rotated the ring on his finger. I remembered that ring. He hadn’t worn it when I’d known him before. But when we were reunited back in Budapest, he’d had it. Nia had noticed it too. Both my bestie and I had grabby hands when it came to ancient artifacts. She’d been focused on the ring, while my attention had been on its bearer. All that I knew about the ring was that it was as old as Baros, likely from his time.
“If you want to hold the Ring of Gyges,” Baros continued, “it will exact a hefty price. It will take what you hold dear to give you what you dream.”
“You’re holding me a little dearly right now,” I said.
His gaze broke from his hand and focused on me. That had been a miscalculation on my part. I gulped as he caught me with those pale eyes.
“You won’t take possession of the ring,” he said. “You have no need for it.”
“You have no idea what I dream of.”
“Yes,” he nodded, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I do. You already have it.”
Cocky bastard.
“Once I have my freedom from the Olympians, there will be no reason we can’t be together.”
My head tilted as though the heavy doubt would pop my top off. I cocked my head away from him, but I didn’t get far. He leaned in, preparing to capture my lips. I had no escape. I’d have to take the onslaught of his affection.
But at the last second, he pulled away. “Unless there’s someone else? A knight perhaps?”
“Who?” I asked half dazed, half confused. “Geraint? No. I am so not his type. He doesn’t even like me—yet. Well, he does like me. He’s just fighting our budding bromance.”
“Then there’s nothing standing in our way.”
When I didn’t answer him immediately, Baros’s empty gaze narrowed. “Unless you want to remain at the Round Table?”
“It does have its perks,” I admitted. “Three square meals a day for one. But I’ll nev
er get fat with the knight’s daily training program. And there’s plenty of leisure time during the evenings to visit with others.”
“You just described a daily prison routine,” said Baros.
I shoved away from him. It wasn’t a prison. It was the family I’d lost and found. They always stuck by each other. They never crawled out of bed before sunlight.
Baros chuckled again. I pressed my thighs together just in time. Still, the sound waves of his laugh got under my skin. It put me off balance, and Baros pulled me closer. He reached down and grabbed the comforter, wrapping it around both of our naked bodies. He placed a tender kiss on my temple, which rocked me. Baros didn’t do tender, at least not with me. Unless he wanted something.
“Are you ready for another round?” I asked.
“No, woman. You’ve worn me out. But definitely in the morning.”
“You mean when you come back in the morning? After you go to your bed to sleep?”
“Why would I leave a warm, sated woman?” He snuggled down into the mattress and tucked his head between my neck and shoulder.
My tongue-tied. I couldn’t figure out a response to that one. It didn’t matter. By the time I inhaled to gather words, he was snoring softly. It didn’t look like he was about to go anywhere anytime soon.
Chapter Nineteen
It wasn’t the knock on my door that jolted me awake. It was the strong arms that held me locked down in the bed. It was the warm front that was pressed into my back that shook me.
What the hell? Who the hell? He was still here?
I reached out to the bed stand and tapped the face of my phone. It was eight in the morning. The movement of my body placed an inch of air between us. Baros gave a tug and pulled my torso back to him in what felt like a protective gesture.
The person on the other side of the door knocked again. This time it was more of a pound, like the way the police would knock when they had a warrant. Baros raised his head. His entire body tensed. I felt his sword hand itch as it gripped my hip.
“Loren,” called Geraint. “Get up. This isn’t a vacation. We have work to do.”
So, it was the authorities after all. But that particular branch of authority was here for me and not Baros. I made to move but then realized that one, there was a tether to my body, and two, my body was naked. I couldn’t answer the door to my brother-at-arms while naked with a fugitive latched onto my hip.
The pounding on the door stopped. But then the door handle rattled. Thank God it was locked. Otherwise, Geraint would’ve gotten an eyeful of a Baros and Loren pretzel, the salty variety after all the sweat from our amorous activities. That would not look good on my job performance report. God, what if he actually was going to do a performance report?
“Just a minute,” I croaked, rolling out of bed.
“Hurry up,” said Geraint. There was a thunk on the door, which I assumed was his big body leaning into the frame.
Baros growled at the door. I was so stunned my voice stuck in my throat. Yeah, me. The girl who was never at a loss for words. Baros had never done that before. He’d never appeared to care when another man showed interest in me. Not that Geraint was showing interest in me. But Baros didn’t know that.
“Loren?” Geraint packed so much into the two syllables of my name. There was suspicion and disappointment and inevitability.
Well, it didn’t look like I’d be able to slip out of the door without Geraint getting a look inside. Or that I’d be able to shove Baros in the closet so that Geraint wouldn’t see him. It looked like these two men were about to come face-to-face.
It was time to put on my big girl panties. Wait? Where exactly were my panties?
I searched around on the floor, but only found my pants. I dove for them. While I was putting in the second leg I noticed that the Baros-shape that had been in the bed had vanished. I blinked, looking left and then right. To my horror, I saw him making his way to the closed door. I had just enough time to pull up my pants. It would be a commando kinda day. I didn’t have time to pull on my bra. I’d just managed to get my head in my shirt when Baros yanked the door opened.
The light from the hall illuminated the room, my half-dressed state, and Baros’s full frontal nudity. I have never let a man fight my battles, but damn if Baros’s possessive swagger as he blocked Geraint’s path wasn’t sexy. Unfortunately, I had to cut short my admiration. I yanked down my shirt to cover my hipbone, but not before giving Geraint a glance at my bare who-ha first.
“You’re the knight.” Baros looked Geraint up and down.
“You’re the Spartan.” Geraint looked Baros up, but as his eyes drifted down, he groaned and looked away as though he’d been blinded. His gaze landed on me.
“Hey, Gee.” I waved. “What up, bruh?”
“My lady,” said Geraint. His eyebrow working overtime as he took in me, the room, and the bed.
“She’s not your lady,” growled Baros. “Bruh.”
Geraint’s brow crinkled with distaste. “I’m not your bruh, but her—” He gave the door a shove and Baros lost his hold, making way for Geraint to enter. “She’s a sworn knight of the Round Table, and a witch, which makes her family.
“Aw, Gee,” I said. But was immediately silenced by his unwavering brow of disapproval. He looked down at my groin area. I followed his gaze to see that I was still unbuttoned. I turned around and handled my business.
“Family?” said Baros as he let the door close with a snick, but he still didn’t bother to reach for any clothing. “You don’t have the porcelain features of a Saxon. Where are your people from?”
Geraint looked between the two of us before answering. “My mother was Saxon. My father was from Al-Maghreb. That’s present-day Morocco.”
“You’re not Persian?”
“I’m a Moor.”
Baros relaxed now that he knew that Geraint wasn’t Persian. He swaggered over to me, still naked as the day he was born and completely unconcerned about his junk hanging out. He came to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me from the back.
I stiffened in his embrace. He never showed PDA. Like ever.
“Um, Lenny? Do you mind if I talk to my brother here alone?”
Baros looked from me to Geraint, then back to me. Without warning, he dipped my head back and planted a possessive kiss on my lips. His hand on my neck screamed ownership. His tongue in my mouth marked me as his territory.
“I’ll see you in the arena,” he whispered, his pale eyes locked on mine in conspiracy. “For the win.”
He straightened my spine and let me go. In all honesty, I wobbled when I was left to my own two feet. I watched, stunned, as he pulled on his clothes and then headed for the door. But he paused again in front of Geraint.
“May you reach the limits of virtue before you cross the border of death.”
“Um…?” Geraint looked to me for some direction, but I had none. He turned back to Baros. “All men make mistakes, but a good man yields when he knows his course is wrong and repairs the evil.”
Baros grinned. “That was from Sophocles.”
Geraint nodded.
“I knew the man. He was a bastard.”
And with that, Baros winked at me and then left out the door.
“You know seduction isn’t a part of the job description,” said Geraint once the door was closed.
“That was closure.” I waved his concern away even as the thumping of my heart betrayed me. But Geraint couldn’t hear that. “Now, I’m back on the clock.”
“I’ve known guys like him. Gawain used to be him. It took a date with death to get him to clean up his act. Baros’s intentions with you are not honorable.”
So what? It wasn’t like my intentions were honorable with him. I had just been using him. Even though I didn’t actually get anything out of him. Except for a couple of mind-blowing orgasms and a cramp in my leg.
“I meant what I said, Loren. You can call yourself a witch or a knight or a woman. Whichever you choose, y
ou are family, and I won’t allow someone to dally with you.”
Oh, great. Now I was gonna get the overprotective treatment that Morgan hated. It was going to be tedious having these men watch my every move into and out of bedrooms.
I ran into Geraint’s chest and wrapped my arms around his stiff torso. He gave a huge and hefty sigh. Slowly, the stiffness seeped out of his spine. Then he patted me on my back, awkwardly.
Just weeks ago, this man had turned his nose up at me. Look at us now. It made a girl think; maybe people could actually change.
“I think maybe he’s changed,” I said into Geraint’s chest. I knew I didn’t need to clarify the who I was talking about.
“Loren,” Geraint sighed. “You are not that girl.”
I pulled out of his embrace with a huff. “You’re just jelly I got some last night. Meanwhile, you were pulling thorns out of your ass.”
“Loren.”
I actually stomped my foot and balled my fists. “He’s different.”
Geraint shook his head. “That’s you. You’re different. You’re seeing him differently.”
“I kinda like what I see.”
“Only kinda?” asked Geraint. “Let me guess, what you’re feeling, you don’t trust it completely. You don’t trust that this new attitude of his will stick.”
“No,” I admitted grudgingly. “But I like it.”
“You deserve a guy who will stick.”
“I could make a sticky fingers joke here because, you know, former thief and bad girl.”
Geraint shook his head again. “You were born a noble lady. It’s just that no one told you. When you found out who you were, you stepped up to your destiny.”
I flopped down on the bed and my underwear popped out from under the pillow Baros had been laying on. “Why are you giving me the locker room pep talk, coach? You don’t even like me.”
“You’ve worn me down.” Geraint huffed, looking truly exhausted. Then he looked at me with those dark eyes that I was certain saw more than he let on. “He’s going to hurt you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed.