She shook her head, her fingers combing through his hair. “Don’t stop.”
“Never.” He sucked firmly on one nipple and then the other, loving the way she twisted, increasing the pressure.
The scent of her arousal reached his nose, stirring the dark, primitive side of his nature. He released her nipple, leaving it wet and tightly peaked. Scooting down, he paused to enjoy the sight of her spread before him, arms raised, legs open, skin deeply flushed. She watched him through passion-muddled eyes, surrendered and waiting.
He caught the backs of her knees and pushed her legs wider. She gasped then caught her lower lip between her teeth. She obviously knew what he meant to do and had no objection. Bending slowly, he inhaled deeply then traced her slit with his tongue. She was already slick and soft, ready for their joining.
Needing to be inside her too badly to deny himself completely, he pushed his middle finger into her core. Hot, wet flesh tightened around him, dragging a moan from his throat. He watched her face as he slid his finger in and out, teasing himself as much as her.
“Please.” She squeezed him tightly. “I need more than a finger.”
He chuckled and eased a second finger in beside the first.
“No.” She caught his wrist, trapping his fingers deep inside her. “I need you, all of you, inside here.” She squeezed him again then released his wrist.
He should make her wait, lick her until she was screaming, but his desire was just as demanding as hers. Withdrawing his fingers, he bent for another taste, then thrust his aching cock into her body. She cried out, clutching him so tightly he felt himself start to come. Discipline alone allowed him to pull back from the brink.
This was not what he’d imagined when he kissed her awake. He rocked between her thighs, shuttling in and out of her snug passage. He threw his head back, reveling in the heat and motion. His skin felt electric and his blood seemed to race through his veins.
She cried out and trembled beneath him and sparks of her pleasure skittered across their connection. His hoarse cry echoed hers, but he miraculously held back his release. He would not allow this to end so quickly. He was stronger than that.
Pulling out was painful, but he wasn’t without her for long. He flipped her over and drew up her hips. Easily finding her entrance, he thrust back in and they groaned in unison. He pulled back his hips and slid in slowly, determined to prolong their enjoyment. Her energy surrounded his shaft, caressing him just as tangibly as her body. He shuddered, knowing he wouldn’t last long if he continued to move.
Instead he drew her up, pressing her back against his chest. She turned her head sharply, offering her mouth. The position thrust her breasts forward and he took full advantage of both offerings. He caressed her breasts with one hand as his tongue moved in and out of her mouth.
Soon caresses weren’t enough. He wanted to feel her come around his cock, know she needed him as desperately as he needed her. With their mouths still clinging, he held her close with one arm as his other hand moved between her thighs. He caressed her folds, accenting how tightly she stretched to accommodate his thickness.
She grew restless beneath his touch, but he didn’t release her. His middle finger found her clit and her entire body tensed. Come for me, gennari. He pushed the directive into her mind with a hint of his consuming need.
Her breasts quivered against his forearm and her core tightened on his shaft. His finger circled and stroked her clit until pleasure radiated across their link. He didn’t analyze the development, just accepted her momentary surrender. With his finger still covering her clit, he bent her forward, supporting her until she pressed her hands against the bed. Then he pulled back and drove deep, pairing each thrust with a pass of his finger.
She tossed back her hair and arched, taking him deeper into her body. Her energy swirled again, stealing his breath for a moment. He wasn’t sure if she was doing it intentionally and he really didn’t care. Nothing had ever felt more amazing than her essence caressing his cock.
Finally lost in the storm, he moved both hands to her hips and increased his speed. She went down to her elbows, creating a better angle for his forceful strokes. Hard and deep, he claimed her body, all the while aware that something was missing.
Her body couldn’t have been more perfect or the pleasure more intense. Still, he would always hunger for more than these physical sensations.
Looking down, he watched his wet cock moving in and out of her willing body. Lust surged, burning away regret. Energy gathered at the base of his spine, making his balls constrict in preparation for an explosive release. The pleasure was so overwhelming he nearly forgot that she wasn’t ready for his seed.
His fingers dug into her hips and he gritted his teeth as he forced himself to pull out. He squeezed his painfully engorged shaft then frantically stroked until his seed jetted onto her back.
She collapsed onto the bed with a frustrated hiss. “I hate it when you do that.”
Her voice was muffled by the covers, but he understood every word. “I’m protecting you.”
“I know.” She looked back at him, her gaze sad. “And I appreciate it.”
Unable to conceal his disappointment, he crawled off the bed and went to the bathroom for a washcloth. He couldn’t force this. She would open up when she was ready and not before.
Her arms wrapped around him and she pressed against his back. “Are you mad at me?”
He turned around and drew her tightly against him. “I’m not angry.” He wiped up the mess he’d left on her skin then tossed the washcloth into the sink. “This is hard for you. I understand that and I’m trying to be patient.”
She ran her hands up his chest and locked them behind his neck. “You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met and I’m so glad you’re in my life. My reluctance has nothing to do with you.”
He bent and kissed her as his fingers combed through her hair. “I’ll wait as long as you need and we’ll move forward as slowly as you like. Just don’t push me away.”
“It’s a deal.” She pushed up to the balls of her feet and kissed him with tender affection. “Now tell me what gennari really means.”
He chuckled as she nibbled at his earlobe. “It’s a declaration of intent.”
She pulled back, her expression quizzical. “You’re intent to do what?”
He laughed then lightly slapped her luscious behind. “I would think that was obvious.” She obviously needed to hear it and he needed to say it. “I feel a connection with you that I’ve never felt with anyone else. I want you as my mate.”
Much to his relief she didn’t tense nor did she pull away. “You’re much too tempting when you’re naked. This isn’t fair.” She pushed him toward the shower. “And we both smell like sex!”
* * * * *
Jillian raised the coffee mug toward her face and inhaled. The coffee shop might be new to her, but the rich aroma was soothingly familiar. “If we’re finished with the double, does that mean I can go home?”
“That’s not my call,” Elias told her. “You’ll have to ask your handler.” His smirk told her he knew just how well Odintar had “handled” her lately. It didn’t bother her. She’d handled Odintar just as thoroughly by the time they’d fallen into an exhausted sleep. And this morning had been even better, an overwhelming combination of intensity and tenderness.
I feel a connection with you that I’ve never felt with anyone else. I want you as my mate. As proposals went it was rather oddly worded. Still, the possibility of spending the rest of her life with Odintar was much more tempting than she expected it would be.
Distracted by the development, she’d lingered in the shower after they’d finished washing each other. She hadn’t come to a definitive conclusion, but she hadn’t talked herself out of it either.
When she finally emerged from her bedroom, she found Elias and Odintar at the kitchen table deep in conversation. Odintar made the introductions, explaining that Elias was part of the human taskforce that
was assisting the Mystic Militia. Elias seemed annoyed by the description, but he hadn’t argued the point. Instead he told her about a tattoo shop the Shadow Assassins had been patronizing on a regular basis. They needed her to apply for the receptionist position and gather as much intel as she could.
“Say I get the job. What happens if Nazerel strolls through the door?”
“You treat him like any other customer,” Odintar said. “The only way you would know he’s after you is if you’d had contact with us.”
“And the whole point of the double was to keep him from realizing where you’ve been,” Elias reminded.
“We’re not sending you in alone,” Odintar assured. “We’ll be with you every step of the way.”
So here she sat, waiting for her double to arrive. As soon as Elias’ men spotted Jillian’s car, Jillian would go into the bathroom. Her double would go into the bathroom as well and wait until Jillian was long gone before she snuck out through the back.
It was a simple plan, but there were still so many things that could go wrong. First and foremost, the shop’s owner might not want to hire an ex-showgirl with a bum leg. Even if the bum leg was being greatly exaggerated. She’d refused to wear the god-awful brace, but agreed to affect a limp, so they’d instructed her double to do likewise.
“The car just turned the corner.” Elias motioned toward the bathroom. “You’re on.”
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Jillian pushed to her feet and hobbled over to the bathroom. A strange sort of dread spread through her. If it hadn’t been for Odintar, this might well have been her life for the next few years. Surgeries and physical therapy, frustration and pain. She whispered a prayer, thanking whatever god had sent him into her life for their generosity.
She stood awkwardly in the bathroom and waited for her double to arrive. If the other woman hadn’t been dressed in an outfit identical to Jillian’s, she might not have realized who she was supposed to be. They were both tall and athletic, but her “double” was at least twenty years older than she was and much more…weathered. She couldn’t think of a less insulting adjective.
“Hi,” she greeted with an awkward wave.
“Hi, yourself.” She fished through her shoulder bag and found a cigarette. “Oh God how I missed these.” She lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, a blissful expression spreading across her face. “Loved your apartment. It’s way nicer than mine. But the confinement was getting to me. Glad it’s over. Keys are behind the visor. Cheers.” She walked into one of the stalls and closed the door, dismissing Jillian.
Jillian smiled at the odd exchange and rushed from the bathroom before the cloud of cigarette smoke found her clothes.
Elias was nowhere in sight when she returned to the small seating area. Odintar was here somewhere as well, but he’d warned her that the level of shielding needed to hide from the Shadow Assassins would make him undetectable to her as well.
Feeling a little abandoned, she headed for the door. This plan still seemed overly risky to her. Nazerel might not be the only Shadow Assassin who had looked through the notebook. What if one of the others chose her as their prospective mate? The thought was even more upsetting after the amazing night she’d just spent in Odintar’s arms.
She couldn’t think like that or the Shadow Assassins might sense her fear. They didn’t realize she knew about them. That was her main advantage. As long as they didn’t suspect she knew their secrets, and as long as they thought she was still physically impaired, she should be relatively safe. It was imperative that she seem intrigued and a little intimidated by them, but nothing more.
Her real goal was to see if she could get the employees gossiping about their unusual clientele. They might know more than they realized they knew. But first she had to earn their trust.
No. First you have to get the job. She accepted the reminder and smoothed down her hair before she opened the front door. The shop was in a newly renovated strip mall in one of the older parts of town. Not fancy by any means, but she’d seen far worse.
The door chimed as she pulled it open. The interior was light and open, arranged to maximize limited space.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right out,” someone called from the behind the curtain obscuring the back of the shop.
She moved to the couch situated perpendicular to the long case displaying jewelry and various forms of body art. Did they do piercings and implants or just tattoos? As tattoos became more mainstream, the popularity of body modification had begun to rise.
There were three photo albums on the coffee table directly in front of the couch. Each cover featured a name in bold, block letters. Tess, Roxie and Jett. The owner’s name was Roxie, so Jillian picked up Roxie’s book. From the first page on it was obvious that Roxie was a genuine talent. Her designs were original and distinct, bold, yet elegant.
“What do you think? And don’t tell me they’re nice.” An attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties skirted the display case and approached Jillian.
Jillian smiled. Apparently her interview had just begun. She didn’t know for sure that this was Roxie, but she suspected she was. With dark brown hair and pale blue eyes, her face was as stunning as her artwork. “You like to over complicate your designs, like you’re never sure when it’s finished.”
The young woman smiled, apparently pleased by the observation. “Go on.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time playing—or watching others play—video games. I see the influence of several well-known gaming studios.”
“Guilty. But what made you think I watched rather than played?”
So this was Roxie. “I can’t picture you setting down your sketch pad long enough to get good at a video game.”
“You’re very perceptive.” She crossed to the coffee table and held out her hand. “Roxie Latimer and please tell me you’re Jillian Taylor.”
Jillian set the photo album back on the coffee table and stood before she shook Roxie’s hand. “I am. It’s nice to meet you. I don’t want to misrepresent myself. I’m an art fan, but I’m not an artist. Do you only need a receptionist or were you hoping to recruit a fledgling artist?”
“The stations are full. We need a receptionist.” She motioned toward the couch as she rounded the table and sat as well.
Jillian pivoted toward her, carefully positioning her formerly wounded leg.
Roxie noticed the motion, but didn’t mention it. At least not directly. “So tell me about your work history. Are you currently employed?”
“I was a dancer until a recent accident forced me to reassess my career plans.” She didn’t need to fake the pang of sadness in her voice.
“Oh my God! I knew you looked familiar. You’re the Jillian Taylor. I saw Star-Crossed three times. Jett said you’d landed a headline gig. What are you doing here?”
“I’d performed sixteen shows when the accident happened.” She motioned toward her leg. “It’s damaged beyond repair. Dancing is no longer an option.”
Roxie reached over and squeezed her arm. “I am so sorry. You were brilliant in Star-Crossed.”
“Thanks.” Her throat felt tight and tears stung her eyes. Stubbornness alone held them back.
“I’m sorry. I’m being really insensitive. The job is yours if you want it. The pay sucks, but you can have all the free ink you want.”
“I’m not sure you want to make that offer. I’m still a virgin.”
“I’d be happy to help with that,” the smoky male voice drew her gaze to the opening leading to the back of the shop. A lanky young man stood there, his asymmetrical hair and heavily lined eyes broadcasting his profession. Not to mention the tattoos that covered both arms and one side of his neck.
“Jett, this is—”
“Jillian Taylor requires no introduction. Not in this town.”
It was torture. Every word they uttered shined a glaring light on the life she was leaving behind. She’d been a star. Well, more like an aspiring star, but she’d just started
to build momentum when it all came crashing down. Now she was a fallen star trying to redefine herself in a reality she didn’t quite understand.
“And I’m pretty sure she was referring to her lily-white skin not her sex life,” Roxie pointed out playfully.
“I’d love to take my needles to her almost as much as—”
“Only you would call it a needle,” a female pushed past him and smiled at Jillian. “At least he’s honest. Most men exaggerate, or worse, compensate.”
“That’s Tess,” Roxie told her.
Tess looked more like a librarian than a tattoo artist, but Jillian returned her smile. “Nice to meet you, Tess.”
“Likewise. And I specialize in tattoo virgins, so ignore him. Jett would be drooling all over you the entire time anyway.”
“What, you don’t think she’s gorgeous? You don’t have to like girls to appreciate a bod-face like hers.”
The slip had been so obvious all three females laughed.
“Yes, she’s gorgeous, face and body,” Tess volleyed, “but so is Roxie.”
“I’ve worn out all my fantasies about Roxie. I was about to start fantasizing about you.”
“Naughty nanny or hot for teacher?” Tess waved away both ideas. “You’re so predictable.”
“They never stop,” Roxie warned. “It’s better to just ignore them.”
The door chimed and everyone looked at the newcomer. Even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, the man looked intimidating. With sharp features and a dramatically sculpted physique, he was either a Shadow Assassin or a world-class body builder.
“Flynn,” Roxie greeted as she stood and walked out from behind the coffee table. “I don’t think you’re on my schedule. Are you taking someone else’s slot again?”
“Nazerel said you make time.” His accent was so heavy his words were hard to understand.
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