by Lisa Medley
The house was quiet, the only sound was the crackling of the dying fire in the fireplace as they walked past. Garrett and Rosemary were still at the bonfire. She hadn’t had sex as a teenager, but she imagined this was how it would have felt like to sneak into her boyfriend’s room past his parents.
Maybe that was part of the allure of Nate. His whole family values vibe was something she hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Her extended family had scattered to the ends of the earth after the death of her brother. Her own parents had retired, passing on soon after the incident, while she was still away from home, trying to forget about what had happened. Reaper families tended to dissolve quickly even under the best circumstances. That was one of the reasons the Authority compound setup had seemed so odd to her. They’d made their own family there. Maybe a family of your own choosing was better anyway.
She was thinking too much. If she kept this up, she’d bail out. Maybe she was trying to talk herself out of it.
Hell.
Nate flipped the light on at the top of the stairs and pulled her in after him.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nate couldn’t believe Maeve was still agreeing to this. He wanted her.
Bad.
Their kisses today had only fueled his desire for her. The more he touched her, the more he craved her, but he also feared at any moment she would change her mind.
His mind was a jumble of emotions. On the one hand he was sure he should go slow with her, but on the other, there was no telling how many tomorrows there might be. He wasn’t going to waste another day with indecision.
Nate turned on the bedside lamp and switched off the overhead lights. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at her.
“Come here.”
Maeve crossed the short distance and stood before him. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her to him, burying his head against her stomach. Her hands combed through his hair and he marveled at what a difference thirty-six hours could make.
Pulling his hair, she tilted his face upward. Her eyes searched his, full of questions that weren’t going to be answered tonight. Leaning into him, she pressed her lips to his. He tugged her down onto the bed and rolled her against the wall, pressing her into the mattress with his body as he took her mouth with his.
When their energy began to build, he tamped his down with effort, not wanting it to release a new reel of images through them. Not now. All he wanted to experience in this moment was Maeve, pure and simple.
Her hands slid under his shirt and across his back before returning to grasp at the hem. Withdrawing from her mouth, he let her tug his shirt up and over his head.
Slow, his head reminded him.
Faster, his heart rebutted.
When he pulled her shirt off, she moved to unclasp her bra.
“No. Let me undress you.” He undid the clasp and watched in awe as her perfect, pert breasts sprang free. Sliding his hands beneath them, he spanned her ribs with his spread hands until they both rested perfectly in his palms. He brushed his thumbs across her nipples and then bent to taste her, taking her breast in his mouth.
Maeve arched beneath him and moaned, so he drew his tongue under the perfect curve of her breast and down her stomach, trailing his palms over every available inch of her exposed skin.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
He fumbled at the button of her jeans before relenting and allowing her to undo them. Tugging them down, she shimmied out of them, scissoring her legs to help him along. Her pale, porcelain skin was glorious in the warm light of the lamp. Soft and warm, he closed his mouth against her hipbone and felt goosebumps spring up across her thighs in response.
“Are you cold?”
“No. Don’t stop.”
“I don’t think I could.”
Slipping his hands beneath her, he cupped her globed ass in his palms and squeezed, raising her hips off the bed and presenting her exquisite sex level with his mouth. A whimper escaped her as he seized her, plunging his tongue inside her entrance.
Maeve bucked on the bed, pressing into him as he continued to pleasure her. Nipping and licking along her labia, he circled her hard nub with his tongue, flicking it again and again, following with a long, slow lick through her opening. Tasting her sweet essence was the undoing of his control.
Slow was no longer an option.
Unleashed, Nate devoured her, relentlessly sucking and pulling at her swollen sex as she endured his shameless torment. Her hands twisted in his hair and she surged her hips against him, begging with her body for penetration.
“Nate.”
Ignoring her pleas, he continued, increasing his assault until she trembled beneath him, on the brink. A ripple of energy leaked from him and coursed into her, driving her over the edge. Maeve’s hands clutched the bedding and her body twitched and shook beneath him. Nate rested his check against her thigh and exhaled against her mound, the sensation eliciting a round of soft curses from her.
He crawled up the bed to lie beside her and pulled her spent body against his. Flushed and hot, her skin was as toasty as a campfire in the chilly room. He pressed his hardness against her naked bottom and she reached back between them to grip him through his jeans, forcing out a moan of his own.
“Fuck.”
“About time.” Maeve turned in his arms and reached to unbutton his jeans.
Happy to comply, he rolled over and off the bed to shuck his remaining clothing. Maeve rolled over to the edge and grasped the back of his thighs, pulling him close to the edge of the mattress.
Tilting her head to the side coyly, she nodded appreciatively at his nakedness. “Well, you are a nice surprise, Nate.”
Without touching him, she blew her hot breath along his shaft, then licked her lips and slid her tongue under his length from base to tip and back again. When she closed her lips around his tip, he threw his head back and pushed into her mouth. Maeve set the pace, gripping his ass hard, pushing and pulling him to and from her.
Knowing he’d never last against her agonizing assault, he backed away from her.
“Problem?” she asked, full of fake, doe-eyed innocence.
“Not if you stop now.”
“Payback is a bitch, isn’t it?”
“We’ll see.”
Pushing her back, he slid his hands beneath her knees and pushed them up roughly, opening her sex to him.
“Do we need to…?”
“No. I don’t even cycle.”
“But Ruth—”
“Was barely a reaper when she conceived. Trust me. It’s not going to happen.”
Nate conceded, trusting Maeve to know her body and its limitations,
He let her knees fall back to the bed and leaned down to kiss her. Brushing his lips against hers, he nipped at her lip, pressing his forehead to hers. She softened under him and he parted her legs with his knee, slowly pushing against her entrance with his shaft.
The tip slid in, and his arms trembled as he tried to hold his weight off her. When she wrapped her legs around his back and raised her hips off the bed to meet him, he broke. Sliding his hands under her head, he wrapped them around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he thrust into her in one long motion, filling her core completely.
He held still for a moment, savoring the feel of her slick heat around him. When he pulled back, Maeve gasped and he plunged in again, stroke after stroke. He buried his head against her neck as he pumped into her, whispering appreciations into her ear.
Maeve’s nails bit into his ass and her core clenched around him on his back stroke, initiating the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life as he spilled into her with a strained grunt. His neck muscles tightened, threatening to snap as he rode wave after wave of aftershock tremors, the pleasure so exquisite it bordered on pain.
“Easy there, cowboy. You’re going throw an aneurysm if you aren’t careful.”
“You say the most romantic things.�
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“I’m a romantic type of girl. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
Nate rolled off her, fumbling for his discarded T-shirt and offering it to her so she could clean up. The blankets had somehow made it to the floor as well, and he tugged them over them both. Pulling her against the length of his body, he luxuriated in the sensation of her bare skin against his, which was so much better than being separated by wool and fleece.
“I’ve noticed everything about you.”
She traced her finger along the edges of his bandaged arm. “Does this hurt?”
“No, I think it’s already healed. All this energy exchange. See, sex is good for us.”
“I’m sorry about hurting you.”
“Shhh.”
Maeve wrapped herself around him, burrowing her head against his chest. She was silent for a while before he realized she’d fallen asleep. Careful not to wake her, he reached to turn off the lamp. His jeans caught his eye on the floor and he remembered the ashes. He rolled out of bed as quietly as he could and retrieved them from his pocket, still wrapped tight in the bandana. Since they were sharing a pillow, he slid the packet underneath, figuring they could both use some advice for their future together.
Assuming they had one.
Pain fisted around Nate’s heart. So many things could go wrong. What if she had regrets in the morning? Could he go back to being nothing more than partners with her? Hell, they hadn’t even really established a relationship as partners before her possession. Being assigned to someone didn’t automatically inspire trust and warm fuzzies. Still, he’d known she was the one for him since the first moment he looked at her after their energy exchange in the hospital.
Somehow, he’d have to make sure she knew it, too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Camael stood on the balcony of his palatial home in Hell, looking down at the Sea of the Dead. Tonight he inhabited his own familiar pre-fall angel form. Minus the wings, of course. He sometimes found private comfort in it. His leopard form was metaphysically easier to maintain than any other form, and the resident demons, imps and such found his animal shell especially intimidating, which gave him some small joy, but tonight, he needed to drink and to take his comfort where he could.
It had been so long since he’d donned this visage. None of the beings of Hell had witnessed his true form. Only Lucifer, who had known him before the fall, would recognize it. The transformation sent a barrage of memories and emotions through him that would be better off buried. It didn’t take long for him to remember why he’d chosen not to wear it for so long.
The demons had brought him several host bodies in offering, each one weaker than the last, but he’d refused them all. After spending time in the reaper’s body, he mourned the loss of her strength and resilience.
How the witch had managed to drive him out was still a mystery, one of the many surprises he’d encountered during his extended time in Meridian. Killing Maeve was currently at the top of his To-Do list, even higher than opening the final portal. There was no telling what she’d gleaned from her time with him, and it was vital for him to ensure that she didn’t pass along any details to her fellow reapers.
He was fairly confident that he had effectively scrambled her faculties upon his exit, but he wanted to be sure. Without her soul, there was no way she would be lucid enough to communicate with the others, but he’d been surprised one too many times to take that chance.
Camael wandered inside and poured a glass full of red wine and tipped it to his lips, letting the warm fluid fill his mouth, savoring its sweetness and sharp bite. Catching his reflection in the mirror, the slightest twinge pinched at his cold heart, reminding him that he did indeed still have one—a heart—however twisted and ruined.
After shaking his head at the image, he walked into his bedroom and removed an iron safe from beneath his bed. He worked the tumbler until the door clicked open, and then removed a clear glass urn from its hiding place inside the padded silk cell. The urn was shaped like an hourglass and constructed of one solid piece of glass. Bluish-gray smoke undulated inside, stretching through the thin neck and filling the top globe before sliding through it again to fill the bottom. He watched it float through the glass, mesmerized by its elegant drift.
The smoke gathered near his hand where he held the urn and pulsated where his skin touched the glass, drawn to his heat and energy. Even now, there was a connection. He rarely brought out the urn after all these years, but tonight he found himself feeling oddly sentimental. He longed, still, for the one thing he could never have—the one thing that had driven him to forsake his very identity and eternal life in Heaven, because without her, his eternal life was far worse than torture.
Swirling, the soul began to glow with iridescence as he held it in his hand. If he were to set it beside his bed, it would light up the room like a lava lamp by morning. Her soul was that pure. Even in Hell, it had remained untarnished, but without the body to put it into, it was nothing more than a sad memento of his short life on Earth.
Why did he torment himself? Especially now? Misery bred misery.
Unbidden, her face filled his mind. Her curly, black hair lifting in the wind and spreading out behind her like the mane of a proud racehorse. He stroked his thumb across the upper globe and her soul followed its path.
Elaina.
He should dash the urn against the wall and quit punishing himself and her. What was done was done. Choices had been made and consequences paid. Instead, he placed the urn on the nightstand beside his bed with care. Ashamed, he realized he needed the light. It was the only thing to keep the crushing darkness from filling him.
What was done couldn’t be undone.
Broken, he willed himself into his leopard form and stalked out his door…into the depths of Hell.
***
Maeve woke screaming.
Sitting up abruptly, she tried to get her bearings in the dark room. Where was she? What day was it? Nothing made sense. Nate was already up and out of bed, searching the room for an assailant he wasn’t going to find.
He returned to bed and took her into his arms as her heart pounded in her chest and blood rushed in the same hard tempo in her ears. She tried to slow her breathing and make sense of what she’d dreamed, wondering if she’d ever be whole again. Nate kissed the top of her head and held her close, their night coming back to her in sharp, vivid color.
She felt a blush creep over her face and was thankful for the spare light in the room. The window allowed only a soft glow of the morning sun to peek through.
“Shhh, you’re okay.”
He rubbed her back in slow circles, and she was embarrassed to admit it was comforting. Nate made her forget to be hard. He was a wonderful surprise. He’d taken her with such abandon last night and God help her, but she’d let him. Never had she let herself go so completely with a man…a reaper…whatever the hell Nate was. He was amazing.
Lying back down, she stretched and slid her hand under the pillow. Feeling something there, she grasped hold of it and pulled it out, trying to figure out what it was in the dim light.
“Ashes?” Maeve asked.
“Yes. Did you dream of guidance?”
“If there was any truth to my nightmare, we’re screwed.”
“Why were you screaming?”
“It was a memory from my time with Camael—ripped out souls, a sea of dead bodies, same old nonsense.”
“Nothing else?”
Maeve hesitated. “Yes. It was probably because of your drawings. My imagination just got carried away.”
“You dreamed about my drawings? Which one?”
“All of them. They battled out in my head like the deleted scenes on a DVD.”
“And which drawing was the last?”
“You woke me before it was over. I guess I get to experience another year of surprising chaos.”
Nate grinned beside her. “That sounds perfect.”
“You say that now. And what about you? Any ins
ights into the year ahead?” Maeve asked.
“Only dreams involving food and you. Not necessarily in that order.” Nate smiled.
She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly skeptical. “Hmm.”
Breakfast smells made their way through the air ducts and Maeve’s stomach growled.
“You need to fuel up.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“No. You won’t. I don’t have the medical means to attend to a reaper coma here. You need food…and energy.”
“I don’t know, Nate—about taking your energy, not the food. I’m down with breakfast, no problem.”
“After last night, I think sharing my energy is the least of your worries.”
She shivered. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I might have to fill you with more than just my blue mojo.” Nate slid his hand down her still naked thigh and slung it over the top of his own, slipping his thigh between her legs and against her slick sex.
“Shit. If you start that, we’ll never get to eat.”
“Then maybe I’ll give you an appetizer.” Nate kissed Maeve until her toes curled, letting the energy build between them unhindered. Turquoise sparks traveled across her skin as he trailed his hand down her stomach, placing his palm flat against her mound. She squirmed, urging him to slide those oh-so-close fingers into her. Instead he pushed his Reiki light into her mouth.
Maeve felt her throat chakra fill with his light, which then radiated through the rest of her body. As her crown chakra filled, her head started to throb. Her vision blurred with fuzzy black and white spots, and she felt the shift before she realized what was happening.
Her reel was back on track.
Her memories snapped into place and began to roll past her in reverse order, beginning with last night with Nate all the way back to Camael in St. Mary’s Hospital chapel.