I pulled him closer to me, wrapping my legs around his until his hard body dug into my own. Isaiah’s hands were in my hair, his mouth on mine. He moved his hips slightly, bringing his cock right where I knew I wanted it. I moaned at the movement, and he must have liked that because he smiled against my mouth.
He stopped kissing my lips but only to move his mouth until it was on my chin, the side of my face, and finally my neck. Oh yes, I really liked that. Shivers ran up and down my body.
Isaiah lifted his head. “Good goosebumps?”
He must have felt them. I nodded fast. “Really good.”
“Awesome.”
I giggled. He had the funniest way of putting things. As his gaze roamed over my body, I kept my mind in the present. He wanted to be here as much as I did. That much was clear.
He sat back a little. “I’m scarred. I just want to warn you. It was really not a pretty sight before you came and rocked my world. Still not great. Better.”
I shook my head. Was he worried I wasn’t going to like what I saw on him? “Isaiah, you’ve been through hell and come out the other side. You’re a beautiful man. Who cares about scars?”
“If only you knew how many people would care. You don’t see your own heart. I think that’s what amazes me about you the most. Well, I mean other than your breasts. I’m pretty fond of them right now. They might be surpassing your heart.”
I hit him on the shoulder, giggles moving through me. He was scarred but it wasn’t anything he had to worry about. I lifted my mouth until I could kiss one of the longer scratches down his chest.
He sucked in his breath.
“What happened here?” I asked.
“Some of it I remember…” His eyes closed and his head fell forward, strands of hair tickling my cheeks. “What was I saying?”
I laughed and the movement brought me back into contact with his body. Instinctively, I arched into him.
“We’re going to take this really slowly,” Isaiah whispered in my ear, and I shivered. The promise in his voice had heat dumping into my core, and I twisted on the bed. He reached between my legs, fingers playing with my folds as he searched my face. “This okay?” he asked.
It was more than okay. Without conscious thought, my legs fell open. I’d been wrapped around him, but now I wanted him to have total access to my body. His gaze drifted down my chest, and he moved back to my breasts. His hands were firm as they cupped me, massaging gently. Everything about Isaiah was careful and gentle. One finger prodded my entrance and as if to distract me, he latched his lips around my nipple, sucking hard. At the same time, he inserted his digit and swirled it inside me.
The motion made me come off the bed. It was like some other being controlled my body; Isaiah’s actions made me respond in ways I wouldn’t expect. I’d thought I’d be shy and self-conscious, but the moment he touched me, I forgot that.
Inside me, his finger curled and circled me. The palm of his hand pressed against my mound and the movement of his fingers thrust it against me.
“Have you ever made yourself come before?” he asked me. He didn’t look up, but studied my breast, licking the nipple.
Oh, holy hell. I cursed being a redhead but thanked God he wasn’t looking at me. I was on fire and not necessarily in a good way. My cheeks felt like I had been standing in front of a bonfire and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple. I lifted a hand to quickly wipe it away.
His movement stilled, and I glanced down at him. Lifting his eyebrows, he studied me. “Hey,” he whispered, moving until we were nose to nose. “Don’t be embarrassed.” The words only made me more embarrassed. But then he kissed me. He found my hand and guided it between my legs. “Show me then.”
This was easier.
Eyes closed, I brought his hand up to my clit. With his fingers on mine, I showed him what to do.
He took direction really well, but when I tried to move my hand, he stopped me. Fingers linked, Isaiah circled the bundle of nerves until my hips were rolling against his. I was on a precipice, my toes over the edge, and he hurled me into space.
A tremor moved through me, tightening every muscle and then releasing it all at once so I was a puddle in the middle of the bed. I hadn’t let out a breath before Isaiah had pushed a finger inside me and then a second. I’d never felt so full. This wasn’t a way I could come, so the sensation was strange at first. But he stretched me while he twisted his fingers inside me.
This was different than anything I’d ever felt before. He began to thrust into me, and my hips chased his hand. With each pump, he ground against me. His lips were on my neck and on my lips, tongue pushing past my lips to mimic the action of his fingers.
I was building toward something, but Isaiah pulled his fingers out of me.
“What are you doing?” My tone was breathy and desperate, nothing like I sounded.
“Wait,” he said, and then I felt him poised at my entrance. The smooth, mushroomed head breached my opening. I thought for sure it would hurt, but it didn’t. Whatever he’d done to my body made me primed for him. Rolling his hips, he slid inside me.
I’d thought I felt full before. That was nothing to this. He was deep inside of me. That was a yeah, Whitney, no kidding moment and yet there was something that was seriously surreal about the whole thing. Isaiah was deep inside of me. We were linked body to body.
“Whit, you are so tight. This is… wow.”
I loved that he seemed so moved by the experience. I had wanted my first time to matter.
I breathed him in, holding onto the back of his neck while he pressed in me and pulled out. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, and he moaned. Yes, he must like that. I wasn’t experienced but this felt amazing, and the more I calmed and participated, the better it got. I leaned forward, kissing his chest, his neck, I bit down on his shoulder.
His whole body jerked, and he grinned down at me. “You are so hot. So fucking hot.”
He adjusted how he entered me. Each pass in touched my clit. I cried out, gripping onto the bed. The times I’d touched myself hadn’t prepared me for what it would feel like to have his cock inside me. Soon, I vibrated with pleasure. My body jerked beneath him. I was close, so close to something.
I exploded. I’d never understood the term before but that was what happened. I shattered under him, coming so hard I couldn’t have controlled it if I’d wanted to. I cried out his name. Colors passed over my eyes and a surge of energy hit me hard.
For one second, I could have fueled the universe with electricity, that was how hyped up I was. Isaiah practically glowed. We stared at each other, just breathing. I touched him—half expecting my hand to pass through him like he was some kind of electrical ghost. But he was solid man, and he was all mine.
He wrapped me up against him, pulling me until I lay on top of his body. He pressed his nose into my hair.
“The glowing thing and the jolt of electricity? That’s not usual.”
I laughed. “I know.” Lifting my head, I stared at him. “That’s never happened with any of my other boyfriends.”
For a second, he just stared at me, wide-eyed, and then he threw his head back and laughed. “You had me so confused for a second.”
I kissed his chest. “Sorry. I make bad jokes when I’m emotional.”
“Are you?” he asked me, smoothing my hair back from my face.
I nodded, my chin digging into the top of my hand where I rested it. I wasn’t going to be one of those girls who cried, but I was overwhelmed with happiness. Isaiah stared at me, watching as I got myself back under control. I literally willed my body to suck up any tears that tried to escape from my eyes. Mind over matter was a real thing, because with a combination of rapid blinking and deep breathing, I kept it together.
“That was a close one, wasn’t it?” he asked. “You realize there’s nothing scarier than girl tears.”
I narrowed my eyes. “It’s the end of the world and you used to be a zombie, but you’re afraid I’m going to cr
y.”
“Yes,” he answered. “And we prefer, cardiac challenged, not zombie. Seriously, Whitney—I’m offended.”
“I’m so sorry.” I widened my eyes, making sure to infuse my voice with honestly.
“Shit, Whitney.” He got serious fast. “I was joking.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I’m messing with you.”
He moved fast, flipping me onto my back so he leaned over me. His fingers went to my stomach, and he tickled me. I cried out, wiggling and kicking to get away from him. “Stop it!”
Glancing up, he smiled wickedly, and suddenly, his fingers went much lower. I gasped, but asking him to stop was the furthest thing from my mind. He played with my folds, circling my swollen clit. I didn’t think I could come again, but his light, playful touch had my eyes closing and my head falling back.
“I think I love you, Whitney.” He kissed my stomach and spoke against my skin.
The words were like a jolt. I sat up fast, and he shifted onto his knees.
“What?” I asked.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he repeated. Then he looked over at the window and the waning light and nodded his head. “No. I’m positive. I’m in love with you.”
“Despite everything. Despite the horrible choice I made that resulted in—”
He touched my lips with one finger. “That wasn’t your fault. I thought we covered this.” He sighed and moved so he was against the headboard. Dragging me into his arms, he settled us. “Now, I’m going to say some things, and I want you to listen and really hear me.”
I nodded, opening my mouth to reply but that long finger touched my lips again.
“Hear me.”
I got what he meant. He didn’t want me arguing. He wanted me to take in whatever he said and roll it around in my head. If I was going to just come up with a counter-argument to everything, then I wasn’t really listening.
So I nodded.
“No one knew John better than I did,” he said solemnly. “And no one loved him and fought with him the way I did. He claimed not to be down with this—” His hand waved between the two of us. “But he was. He just didn’t feel like he should be.” Isaiah touched beneath my chin, angling my face toward him. “You see—John used to worry a lot about what people thought. It was how we survived, really. John could read people, and he could tell how people were going to react before they did. It was because of his dad.”
“His dad was like mine,” I whispered. I wouldn’t wish my father on anyone.
“I think you do have that in common, yes. And to an extent, because he was my stepfather I know just a touch of what you two lived with. I could have a certain distance from it as I always knew I didn’t have the genetic tie to that lunatic. But yes, both you and John know how to pretend really well that everything is okay on the outside. The difference is that he died before he got to be as brave as you.” He traced his finger over my lip. “He’d have come around. I’m sorry he didn’t get the chance. I will mourn that he didn’t. But we’re going to free him and then he can make his way Uncontrolled in whatever direction he wants. Even though it won’t be with us.”
I wished I could be as sure as he was. Still, when it came to John, Isaiah did know him best. “Okay. I’ll believe you. That helps. It does. I… I tend to take on responsibility as my own even when it isn’t. That’s how I’m built.”
“Really?” His eyes sparkled. “I had no idea. Like taking on six, how did you put it, zombies as your own to save their lives? Had no idea you were this person at all.”
I bit down on his shoulder. “I love you, too, Isaiah. I feel like I know you from the inside out.”
He pulled me against him, and I snuggled down. Maybe I could sleep. I must have because I woke up only slightly when the bed sagged. Isaiah scooted my form farther toward him as someone crawled in next to me.
It didn’t take me long to realize it was Brandon. It was as though I could feel their different energies in my brain. Day by day, I was getting better at this.
“All well?” Isaiah whispered to Brandon over me.
“Yes. Helped Dante with a few things. Talk about it tomorrow. Okay if I crash with you two?”
Isaiah must have nodded because Brandon didn’t move. Instead, he slipped an arm around my waist next to where Isaiah held me on the other side.
“Whitney,” John called out to me, and I ran toward him.
He spun around, rain pounding on his head. The world was in color, but John was in dark grays, as though he was from an image in a photograph, fading away.
I reached for him, but he slipped through my fingers. “John,” I yelled back.
Over and over. He kept calling my name. I couldn’t reach him.
No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I made the attempt.
He was gone. I woke up with a giant hole in my heart. And I knew just what it was. The part John was supposed to have in our group. The stabbing emptiness would never go away. I might learn to live with it, but I’d never fill it again.
32
John
This wasn’t right. Voices crowded around me, everyone speaking, everyone crying. This had to be a nightmare, because I couldn’t open my eyes.
Run.
Something hit me in the face, raking across my skin. It didn’t matter what it was because the voice was in my head, urging me faster. Get her.
Get who? And why couldn’t I make my feet stop moving. I had no control over my body. I had a body, didn’t I?
Forcing myself to focus, I stared down at my body. My sight returned slowly.
I wore one shoe.
Run.
As much as I wanted to keep my body still, I was helpless against the suggestion. I had to run. I wanted to run. My feet faded out of view, and I caught the dappled sunlit leaves.
It was—
MOVE!
I did.
33
Carson
As Dante finished telling me about his past, I leaned back in the deep chair.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked. Dante’s past gave John and Isaiah’s a run for its money. Of everyone, it seemed Nick and I had lucked out.
My childhood was uneventful, my parents supportive and loving. My young adulthood followed a normal trajectory—college, law school, law clerk. Everything was as it should have been until the world ended and I died.
Dante dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know.” His hands muffled his voice. I’d never seen my friend struggle like this. “I was afraid you’d all hate me.” He lifted my head and pinned me with his dark brown eyes. “You’re the only family I’ve ever had.”
Nick came into the living room. In his hands, he held a pile of clothes, and he dumped them onto the couch. “Whoever lived here before had a fucking insane collection of concert tees.” He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Leaning over, he read each shirt. He glanced up at me and smiled before flinging a shirt at my head. “Your favorite band.”
I unfolded it and shook it out. “The Strokes.” I smiled. “Awesome.” I shrugged out of my jacket and then ripped my shirt over my head. “Holy shit.” Skimming my hand down my chest, I studied my body. “How did—”A day ago, I’d still had an open wound on my chest from a fight with an Uncontrolled. Now the skin was pink and healthy, with no sign whatsoever of the injury.
Nick turned, revealing his lower back. “What do you see?”
I knew why he asked. Nick had needed a graft on his lower back when he had fallen on a tree branch and taken a chunk out of his skin. Dante had used the same sort of graft on Nick as he had on Brandon. It wasn’t flesh.
Now, however, the patch was missing completely and what was there was a section of red, healing skin.
Human skin.
Nick’s skin.
I jumped to my feet and lifted my own sleeve. I never looked at my left arm because of just how disgustingly it had been torn up. Sure enough, the skin was smooth and entirely mine. “
Whitney is magic.”
Dante lifted his head. “She is that.”
Isaiah strode into the room, and for a second I did a double take. We were all looking better, there was no doubt about that, but he was really fixed. I might even have thought he was alive if I didn’t know better. He could pass for living right now.
When I’d gotten back last night, it had been clear that Isaiah and Whit were… ah… enjoying themselves in the bedroom. I’d actually been glad for them. Strange not having any jealousy about this. Must have been part of this whole thing we were doing. Hell, there were bigger problems than who Whit shared her time with and when. I didn’t have any doubt about how she felt about me.
None at all.
“You look really good, Isaiah.”
He side-eyed me. “I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I know. And it’s… yeah.”
Dante got to his feet. “How does she seem this morning?”
“Sad.” Isaiah’s face fell.
Nick snorted. “Then you did it wrong.”
Isaiah ignored him. “Brandon’s talking to her, but I think she’s physically feeling John’s absence, and I don’t know that there is anything we can do about that. If we’re a circuit, she’s missing a fuse.”
“The system is still working, but yes, every time she cycles through the energy process she’s going to notice the gap.” Dante sighed. “We’re all going to miss him.”
I couldn’t leave this alone. “Dante, you act like you really understand this and we’re all just figuring it out as we go. Unless you set something up like this before. And you said you were responsible for the infection. We never got to that part. I think you’ve got more to tell us.”
He nodded. “I do. Let’s wait for Whitlee and I’ll finish the whole thing. I might as well get it all out there. I’m tired of carrying this around.”
Lightning Strikes: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Storm Book 1) Page 18