As she walked over to the shirt, she began to discard her own, deciding to leave a trail of her articles of clothing in hopes to add to the environment she wanted to create. When Andie reached the shirt, she was naked, save for her black pumps. She threw the shirt on, only buttoning two buttons in the middle. Then she removed her hair from the elastic holding it up and raked her fingers through it a couple of times before positioning herself on the bed somewhat seductively. Now all that was left to do was wait…
Jack Phillip was probably more exhausted than Andie. When Beverly dropped him off at the manor at eight thirty, he told his aunt she was relieved from her duty that night. He figured Andie was probably already sleeping; she had been working so hard the past few months, and though his desires kept trying to get him to make love to her, he didn’t want to press her. He ran his fingers through his hair, still not used to the feeling of the buzzed chops that met his fingertips rather than locks of hair. However, his lips curled into a smirk as he thought about the way Andie’s eyes would darken into a forest green every time she looked at him. The edge of her teeth would graze her bottom lip and her left brow would rise just slightly. How he had wanted to be in her mind; how he had wanted to read every dirty thought that would never pass through those full lips of hers. He stifled a groan, realizing his body was reacting to his own thoughts, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, to kiss her lips, to make her moan his name.
There were far too many stairs for his taste as he all but dashed up them, leaving his briefcase at the top of the stairs. As he made his way to their bedroom, his fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. The door to their bedroom was slightly opened, he noticed, and light cascaded through. She must be in there, either reading or sleeping. However, when he pushed the door opened, he wasn’t expecting Andie to be doing… what she was doing. There she was, her hair tumbling down her shoulders and resting over her perky breasts. Her head was poised back, resting on the pillow behind her, exposing the long column of her throat. She was wearing one of his shirts; God, he loved it when she wore his clothing, especially if it was solely one article. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping fully. He assumed she was dozing as he let his shirt fall next to her own discarded pieces of clothing. The shirt was long enough to hide her most private of parts, but it left her legs quite exposed. They were positioned in a very welcoming way, her right leg bent over her left one. And black pumps were still on her feet. She was teasing him, he realized, as he slipped his white wife beater over his head, and God, did he love it.
Jack leaned on the bed and he watched for a long moment as she breathed in deeply, her breasts rising and falling in time. He never took his eyes off of her as his right hand wrapped around her left ankle and his lips kissed her leg.
Andie let out a sigh but her eyes had yet to be opened, though her lips curled into a grin. This only encouraged Jack, and he began to trail soft, wet kisses up her leg. His hands slid between her legs, parting them. Immediately, he could feel her heat, her arousal, causing his own eyes to darken and his own arousal to throb with impatience. A guttural growl erupted from his throat when he realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his eyes shot up into hers. She looked down at him, the same look in her eyes, and her eyebrow rose just slightly. She was biting her lip, almost expectantly, but instead of waiting, she said softly, “I’ve missed you.” She paused after that, not waiting because she needed him to say something in return, but because she realized everything she wanted to speak to him about could wait. “Touch me,” she said, her voice pleading.
That was all Jack needed, and he pushed himself up so he could capture her lips with his. The kiss was not soft, nor sweet, but was filled with a burning desire, almost a desperate need. They had not been with each other for a long while, at least it seemed that way to them, and they needed to get their fill. His tongue ran across Andie’s bottom lip, and she allowed him entrance to explore the mouth he already knew by heart. His right hand gripped her jaw gently as his left hand ran through her untamable hair, losing themselves in her soft tresses. He needed this, more than he realized.
Her hands placed themselves on Jack’s bare chest, loving the feel of his skin against her own. They trailed downward, her fingertips soft as they moved over his rock-hard abdomen, and she reveled in the fact that his torso twitched underneath her fingers. She loved being the cause of pleasure for him, and she loved knowing that out of all the women he had been with, only she had this effect on him. He knew it too, and his lips began plundering her throat as his hand pulled away from her hair and ran down her collarbone until it held her breast securely in its grasp.
Andie let out a low moan, Jack’s favorite sound, and he looked up at her, watching her head lean back as her body arched up naturally in response to his touch. His thumb began softly caressing her nipple until it was fully erect before capturing it with his lips. His right hand grabbed her free breast, and Jack made sure to inflict pleasure on both parts of her. Andie’s arm wrapped around him as her other hand clenched the back of his head, wanting him to be closer to her, if that was even possible.
Jack’s right hand left her breast after a long moment, trailing down the soft curves of her stomach masked only by the thin material until his fingers found the swell of her heat, buried beneath soft, kempt, curls. His sharp, jade green eyes watched as he teased her; he loved watching her facial expressions. Her full lips were parted slightly, and her green eyes were rolled back behind closed lids. Her breathing was heavy, and through it, sighs and moans could be heard. As his fingers began to dance almost wildly, her grip on him tightened, and he could tell by the way she pressed hardly down on her lip, she was getting close.
“Come for me, Andrea,” he murmured, just as breathless as she was. She didn’t have to do anything; just watching her got him hot and bothered.
Andie opened her eyes very slightly, meeting them with Jack’s. A small smile threatened to erupt onto her face, indicating she was very pleased with the use of her full name in such an intimate setting. Jack, of course, knew this. He knew her inside and out, both literally and figuratively, and yet he was still so consumed by her. He doubted he could ever tire of the way her body would quiver and shake underneath him, the way her soft curves complimented his hard body. He loved making love to her; he loved that he was the only person who would ever see her this way for the rest of her life. She had such a sweet demeanor about her when the two were in public, but he knew better. If people just looked into her eyes, there would be that dark, mischievous sparkle that said more than words could say.
When her sighs turned into whimpers, he knew she was close. He leaned forward and gently kissed her throat, down, down. One kiss here, another kiss on her collarbone, before capturing her nipple back between his lips. Her sharp intake of breath was a sign of releasing all her tension, and he watched with aroused awe as her body began twitching underneath his fingertips. The most beautiful smile eclipsed her face as a flush overtook her cheeks; it was a prize any man could hope to win from her, but it was his. She was his.
Andie leaned up, toward Jack kissing his lips softly. “Make love to me, Jack,” she whispered against them, and then tilted her head down so she could kiss his jaw line. “For hours…” Another kiss was placed on the pulse radically pounding against the inside of his throat. “And hours…” She took his earlobe between her lips as her hands slid down his defined arms before resting on his stomach, and she pressed down her lips firmly, causing Jack to moan. “And hours,” she concluded, her lips just near his ear.
He could feel her hot breath against him, her long fingers skillfully maneuvering his belt so that before he knew it, it clattered to the floor. She looked up at him expectantly, a coy smile resting on her lips, and he couldn’t help but lean down and take full advantage of the offer she had just given him.
As Jack thoroughly kissed her soon-to-be bruised lips, Andie’s fingers unbuttoned Jack’s pants, and slipped between the material
so she could feel his arousal in the palm of her hand.
Jack groaned against her lips, and he twitched underneath the soft skin that was currently touching him. “God,” he breathed raggedly, “you don’t know what you do to me.” Before he realized what he was doing, he quickly removed the white shirt from her body, thankfully not ripping it with impatience so the shirt ended up damaged (which he had done on previous occasions). She was completely naked before him, a sight he would never fully get used to. He had memorized every curve, every freckle, every inch of her skin, and still he wanted more. He could stare at her for hours, fully clothed or not.
Andie leaned forward once again, curling her fingers around the back of his neck, so she could whisper, “Take off your pants. I want to feel you inside of me.”
Jack stifled another groan, but did not need to be told twice. In a manner of minutes, he was completely naked. Andie let her eyes unabashedly scan every inch of him. Lord, she would never tire of his beauty, of his perfection. Just looking at him as he straddled her was enough to get her wet, and for the umpteenth time, she thanked her lucky stars that she was marrying him. Jack positioned himself over her, before slipping inside of her with ease. Her slick insides welcomed him, and both could not contain a sigh of content from escaping their lips if they tried. This is where they were supposed to be; this is where they belonged. He wasted no time, and proceeded to rock inside of her. His hand gripped down on her thigh, pulling it at an angle so he could dive deep inside of her. He wanted her to feel him; he wanted to feel every aspect of her.
“Look at me,” he demanded in a breathless voice. “I want to see you watch me.”
Andie’s eyes were nothing like Jack had ever seen before, and he reveled in the way they watched him make love to her. She did as he requested; they were nearly a very dark green. She stifled a moan, biting her lip and leaning her head back. Her body felt so natural against him, as though they were literally made for each other.
“God, yes,” she whispered, her eyes slitted but still capturing every angle in Jack’s face. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” Jack breathed as he felt his fiancée’s legs coil tightly around his lower back. Her heels were pressing into him, wanting him to get as close to her as possible. Her breasts were pushed up against his chest, and his hand released her thigh to grip her hip.
“Come with me,” she purred, a dazzling smile etched out onto her face. “I’m so close, baby.”
Jack furrowed his brow, ready to do any and everything she asked him. He was sure if she asked for the moon, he would manage to get it for her. Andie’s breathing hitched, and Jack felt her tightness squeeze against his member, letting him know that she was ready for release. He continued to pound inside of her, feeling bits of sweat accumulate against his brow. Suddenly, Andie’s eyes opened, locking themselves into Jack, and a smile littered her face. He could feel her release herself against him, and then he heard, very softly, his name escape from those lips. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, really, and before he knew it, he was following suit, releasing every ounce of him inside of her.
As he felt himself soften inside of her, he rested his head on her shoulder, not wanting to sacrifice the heat their bodies accumulated through the duration of their physical activity. He loved her with every inch of his being, and he loved showing her. He loved that she found him irresistible, and would show him. Never had he been so addicted to making love to one person before.
“I know you have to leave soon,” Andie said, breaking the comfortable silence. She was rather fond of listening to Jack breathe, actually; it told her that he was alive, that he was safe, at least for now. And for whatever reason, his heartbeat made her feel safer than ever before. “But,” she continued, “you had better get back soon so I can make love to you again.” She kissed his sharp cheek. “And again…” She tilted her head and kissed his pulse, which was trying to get control of its self. “And again.”
Jack chuckled against her, the vibrations going through the both of them. “I promise,” he told her, looking up to her and kissing her jaw. “God, I needed that more than you could possibly know.”
Andie grinned, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. “Trust me,” she murmured in his hair. “I know.”
Before either of them could say anything more, the doorbell rang.
Andie frowned. “Who’s that?” she asked.
Jack shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
2
Reese watched the arrow fly from her bow to the bullseye, a good few yards in front of her. She had been in the basement of Bacchus’s Brewery for a couple of hours at least, shooting her arrows and hitting her targets. Then she’d collect the arrows and repeat the cycle. Her grey eyes were still crisp and narrowed, her stance still firm and unwavering. Her focus had improved in the past few months, her determination to carry out her role as Seer–whatever that meant–just as pressing. She was an unrecognizable Reese, to be quite honest, but she was stronger.
Ever since her family died–were killed, more specifically, by some bitch named Daphne who thought Ollo was in love with Reese–her priorities had shifted. No longer did she need to be on the varsity soccer team. No longer was she a social butterfly. She went to school, did her homework, and maintained her good grades. But once the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, she hopped in her Mercedes Benz and drove back to the dingy one bedroom apartment she shared with Ollo, headed down to the basement, and practiced her archery.
It was a joke, really. The old Reese would have snorted in disbelief. She had buckets and buckets of money–she inherited everything, after all–and she continued to stay in an apartment in downtown Onyx with Apollo. The god. The man she was in love with.
He was safe andwas all she had, now. He was her everything and she couldn’t even do anything about it.
She had told him her feelings, of course. She had said she was in love with him, but that didn’t mean it was the right time to pursue it. She was his Seer, she was the Savior, and with Noir sacrificing himself for Keirah and being sent to Purgatory, a war had started. Crime was more prevalent than ever before: kids were going missing, girls and women were being harassed and raped, and boys and men were being assaulted and murdered; and Reese had no idea how to stop it. Not even Black Wing, Onyx’s own vigilante slash guardian angel, could keep everything in check the way he normally was able to. People were losing faith in him, they were losing faith in themselves and their city, and, to some degree, their God. Which meant Satan was getting exactly what he wanted.
He was winning the war.
And here she was, shooting arrows at stagnant paper targets, waiting to do something, but not quite sure what that was.
Some Savior she was.
“Don’t you think it’s time to call it a night, darl?”
That voice.
She hadn’t even heard him descend the staircase, she had been so wrapped up in her thoughts. He caught her off-guard, as he usually did, and just looking at him caused her heart to falter.
It was clear why she stopped and stared at him. Standing at six feet two and a half inches with broad shoulders and muscles as big as her face, Ollo was every inch a god and more. He had shoulder-length, dark blond hair left loose today, and his eyes were a weird combination of mud-brown and crystal-blue that had this boyish twinkle that permanently resided in the multi-colored irises. When he smiled, his dimple popped, just adding to his charm, and he had scruff that littered the lower half of his face. He was wearing a simple blue long-sleeved shirt–the jerk probably knew what it did for his eyes–and faded jeans that fit him just right.
“I don’t have any plans,” she forced herself to say with a hint of attitude. He already knew how she felt about him; there was no point feeding his astronomically large ego any further by being obvious with her stare. “Might as well perfect my shot.”
“I’m not sure how you mean to improve perfection.”
She hated when he flatt
ered her with that accent – a mixture of Scottish and Australian brogues that was smooth like chocolate caramel. Especially when his lips curled into a smirk as he spoke.
“So you’re saying you’re going to take me out?” Reese asked, raising her brow. His smirk deepened and she realized what her innocent words implied. “To investigate, obviously. How am I supposed to be a Savior if I don’t even know what or who to save?”
“I don’t think you’re ready yet,” he told her once he reached the last stair. He even had the audacity to shrug those incredibly broad shoulders of his.
“That’s what you’ve said every single night since this war has started,” she told him with start. “And yet you never do anything to get me ready except show up and make your smartass comments.”
“Maybe if you actually listened to what I’m saying, you’ll realize my words actually have merit, darl.” He smiled that stupid smile and she physically scoffed at the sight of it.
“I’m serious, darl,” he said, and for once, he actually did sound it. No more sparkle. No more smile. “You can’t just go out and expect to hit your targets. These are moving things, and most are adept to dodging attacks by manmade weapons. And all want to either see you dead or to convince you–and by convince, I mean have sex with you–to go to their side. You really think I’m just going to let you out there by yourself?”
Sacrifice: Book 3 of The Dark Paradise Trilogy Page 2