Rebel Obsession (All the King's Men)

by Donya Lynne

  The hair stood up on the back of Bain’s neck. Miriam had spent the night and day with Io—in his home, no less. And despite the fact that Io had, indeed, saved Miriam’s life as Gregos said, he still didn’t like the idea of his daughter being anywhere near him. The male had a reputation as a chauvinistic womanizer. A real Casanova. The fact that he had been a former cobalt addict didn’t score him any Brownie points.

  However, Donovan and his security team had come back claiming innocence of what they had found in Io’s home. They all said the same thing: that Miriam had slept in the bed, perfectly chaste, while Io dozed in a nearby chair so he could monitor her condition.

  Bain sighed. Perhaps Gregos’s solution was worth a try. He needed to keep Miriam’s…problem…out of the public eye, but he also needed to make it go away. He couldn’t very well put her into a public treatment program, because then everyone would find out about the blemish on his family. Bain wanted to keep his family’s affairs private, which was becoming harder to do with Miriam’s antics growing worse and more unpredictable each day. Putting Miriam under Io’s care would make keeping their dirty secret private much easier.

  “How would this work?” he asked, eyeing Gregos.

  “Your daughter would stay with Io. Tristan will give him leave from patrol so he can monitor Miriam. Io would oversee her recovery from her…ailment, and then treat her through, um, withdrawal. Then we could work out an aftercare arrangement.”

  “And how long do you think this will take?” He didn’t like the idea of Miriam living with Io, but Io certainly couldn’t come here. No one but his liaisons and consultants were allowed inside the royal home.

  “Given the state of your daughter’s ailment, as well as normal treatment times, I would say we’re looking forward to at least three to four weeks for the initial treatment. Then her aftercare would begin and, depending on how well she re-assimilates, that could last a few months or up to a year. But she would return here after the initial treatment and only see Io for follow-up or as needed.”

  “As needed?”

  Gregos nodded. “Yes, if she…relapses, for example. He is a qualified counselor and program sponsor at AKM.”

  “I see.” Bain considered what Gregos had told him, and despite his reservations about Io personally, he had to admit the male did sound qualified to handle Miriam’s care and recovery. “The treatment is rather long, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Sire. But it’s highly successful. All the data support the program is working very well.”

  King Bain took a moment to think it over.

  “What is your opinion, Gregos?”

  Gregos tipped his head respectfully. “I believe this is your best choice, Sire. Io comes with high commendations, despite his misgivings in other matters, and Tristan speaks well of him. The best part is that this solution does keep the affair private.”

  Throughout the conversation, Bain felt himself swaying in the same direction Gregos recommended. Sure, Io was a hedonist and a lecher, but he sounded qualified to handle Miriam’s problem. Damn, but Bain just wanted this aggravation to go away. Whatever it took, he wanted Miriam well again.

  King Bain sat forward, the decision made. “Arrange it. But, I want a key to the residence, and he will be subject to inspection any time I see fit. He is not to touch her except to treat her, and he is to speak to her only in a manner fit for the princess. Make this clear. If he defies my rules, he will be punished. This is not a vacation for my daughter. She is to be treated, taken seriously, and will return home after she is no longer ill.”

  Gregos stood and bowed. “Yes, Sire.”

  “Put together the proper paperwork. I want her treatment to start as soon as possible. Tonight. Make it happen, Gregos.”

  “Yes, it will be done.” Gregos hurried out of the room. He had a lot to do during daylight hours.

  Rising from his chair, Bain strode from the large conference room and headed for the stairs that led to the wing of the home where Miriam’s room was.

  When he reached her door, he knocked. “Miriam?”

  “What?” Her obstinate tone bit back at him. When had she grown to hate him so much? All they did was fight now. She had been much more enjoyable when she was younger. If only she was still that way, young and impressionable, gazing upon him as if he were her hero.

  He opened the door and found her lying on her bed, the canopy drawn around her. He glanced around the room, frowning at the décor as if the mish-mash of styles and colors hurt his eyes. A half-full bottle of water caught his eye on her dresser.

  “What’s this?” He picked up the bottle.

  She huffed. “Io gave me that. It’s medicine for my addiction. It helps with withdrawal.” She spoke as if trying to hurt him.

  He winced at the mention of addiction. She was not an addict. She was merely sick. That’s all. But he didn’t want to fight with her. Not now when she would be leaving him to get better. He set the bottle back down.

  “You are leaving for treatment tonight,” he said with unceremonious fanfare.

  She sat up and pushed the canopy aside to look at him. She appeared confused. “What?”

  “For your ailment. You will return to Io’s home, the one who treated you yesterday.” He frowned as what looked like excitement crossed her face.

  The brief flash of emotion made him uncomfortable. She was attracted to Io, which was unsettling, but he wanted her well. He would have to lay down the law and make it clear to her what this was about. Her foray was not a vacation or a jaunt to be taken lightly.

  “This is not to be fun and games, Miriam. You are to follow his orders strictly, and when you return home, I expect no more of this stupidity from you. This problem goes away now. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. She was suddenly much too accommodating and less argumentative. “You are not to behave inappropriately with him, either. He is not to touch you, and you are forbidden from touching him.” He wanted her clear on this point. “Is that understood?”

  She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Fine. As always, your orders are understood, Father.”

  He huffed in frustration. He had been ready for an argument from her, not this blithe acceptance. “Get packed and rest. You depart at nightfall.” He shut her door and headed back to the stairs leading to the main hall. Something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was just his discomfort over this whole nasty situation. He just wanted the cobalt out of his house and out of his family. So much so that he was willing to risk putting Miriam in the home of a reputed playboy with hopes that fear of what would happen to Io if he broke propriety with his daughter would keep the male from doing anything regrettable.

  Unfortunately for the king, he remained unaware of just how far Io had already gone with Miriam.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Miriam leaped out of bed and rushed to her closet for her luggage. What should she take? Hell, she wanted to pack up her whole life and leave and never return. This wasn’t her home anymore, anyway. Her home was with Io. Wherever he was, that’s where she needed to be from now on.

  She was going back to her mate. She was going to see Io in a little over twelve hours.

  She grabbed her phone and dialed his number.

  He picked up almost immediately. “Miriam? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She was whispering, but she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like her room was monitored, which actually surprised her.

  “I miss you,” he said. “I miss you so much.”

  “Well, you’ll be seeing me soon.”

  His voice rose with hope. “What do you mean?”

  “My father has agreed to whatever plan you and your boss came up with. I’m supposed to be packing right now. I’ll be at your place tonight.”

  “Tonight?” He sounded relieved. “I need to see you. I’m going crazy without you.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. I
can’t sleep.”

  “I can’t, either.” Her body heated in all the right places hearing him speak of how much he missed and needed her. She had never hoped to hear a man say such things to her for fear she never would, but now she had found the one she was meant to be with forever. And he spoke with such desire for her. It made her feel purely feminine and utterly wanton.

  “I want to kiss you, Miriam. I need to feel you.”

  Her knees went weak and she had to sit down to keep from collapsing to the floor. “I keep replaying our day together in my mind.”

  “So do I. I’m supposed to be working on a case, but I keep drifting off as I remember how you looked and felt against me. You’re so beautiful.”

  “Stop that. You’re making me—”

  “What?” he said. “What am I making you?”

  She heard the smile in his voice and bit her lip. “You’re making me warm.”

  “Warm is a good thing.” He paused and she got the sense he was leaning back as she heard a rustling noise. “Tell me where I make you warm, Miriam.”

  She lay back on her bed just as the clock struck 6:00 a.m. “You make me warm everywhere.”

  “Between your legs? Are you warm there?”

  She grinned. Definitely. She was definitely warm between her legs. “Yes.”

  “Mmm.”

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  He paused then said, “I’m touching myself.”

  “You are?”

  “Uh-huh.” He moaned quietly.

  “You’re hard?”

  “Yes.” His voice cracked on the single syllable. “Very hard.”

  Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach and she felt moisture slick her core. “My voice did that to you?” The thought that just her voice and the thought of her could excite him filled her with a sense of power.

  “Your voice does all kinds of things to me, Miri.”

  She ran her palm down her stomach and over the apex of her legs as she parted her thighs. “Yours does things to me, too.”

  “Mmm, are you touching yourself?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Is that okay?”

  “Oh God, yes baby.” He groaned long and low.

  So, yeah, her touching herself was okay. She performed a one-handed unsnap and unzip of her jeans and took a deep breath before sliding her hand inside her satin panties. She had very little hair down there, and what hair she did have was short and downy soft.

  “Are you wet?” he said. He purred into the phone. He was heavily aroused.

  “Yes.” She purred back as her middle finger dipped between her lips and found her hardened clit. Was she really doing this? But it was too good to stop.

  “Stroke yourself for me, baby. Imagine it’s my hand and my fingers on you. Imagine it’s my tongue licking you.”

  His tongue? The mental image of his head between her legs alone was enough to make her shudder as she sucked in her breath and exhaled on a moan.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he said.

  “Yes.” The word sounded more like a breath than a word.

  “Then I’ll have to show you how good my tongue can make you feel once I have you here. Would you like that?”

  Oh God, she was going to come. “Yes.” She trembled and her breath shuddered out from her parted lips.

  “You’re going to come, aren’t you? Thinking of my tongue teasing your clit and licking you is going to make you come. Mmm, Miri. I can’t wait to taste you. I can’t wait until you come against my tongue and wrap those long legs around my head and hold me against you while your pussy quivers against my mouth.”

  “Oh God, oh God!” Her fingers swirled over her hard nub as it swelled and suddenly everything exploded. She whimpered and moaned through her orgasm, whispering his name on a breathy exhale.

  “That’s my girl. Umph. Yeah. Just…fuck…just like that. Fuck!” He growled and cried out, clearly reaching his own climax as he listened to her breathe and gasp through the tail end of hers.

  Nothing was said for a minute. The only sounds involved catching their breath alongside the occasional purr as their bodies slowly came back down from their orgasms.

  “Is it nightfall, yet?” Io said, his voice wistful.

  She glanced at the clock. If only she could speed up time. “No, but I wish it were.”

  “I think I might lose my mind before I see you.”

  “I can help you find it again.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you could.” He blew out a heavy breath. “How is the elixir holding up?”

  “Okay. I’m nursing it. I’ve got about a quarter of the bottle left.”

  “That should last until you get here. You might get a little fidgety, but you can hold out, baby.”

  She loved when he called her baby. It was informal and unlike anything else anyone called her.

  “Knowing I’ll be seeing you is enough to make me know I’ll be okay, Io.”

  He paused. “I want to keep you on the phone all day.”

  “I know, but I have to pack.”

  “And I have to work.”

  She finally pulled her hand out of her panties. “But I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, and I can’t wait.”

  “Go on now,” she said. “Go work.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  “Bye, Io.”

  “Bye.”

  She laughed. “Hang up.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to.”

  He groaned in frustration. “You hang up.”

  “I can’t.” She laughed again.

  “See, it’s not easy, is it?”

  They laughed at each other.

  “On the count of three?” she said.

  “Okay.”

  “One, two…” She paused.

  “Two-and-a-half…”

  He cracked her up. “Three.” She waited.

  Nothing.

  “Are you still there?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  She broke into laughter again, and he joined her.

  “Just hang up,” she said.

  He growled. “I don’t want to.”

  “Be strong.”

  “Fine. On three.”

  “One, two…three.” She hit the end call button before she could stop herself.

  Instantly, she wished she hadn’t, but they would have only kept on, and she really needed to pack.

  She got up and took a sip of the elixir mixture—yuck, but it was getting easier to tolerate the taste—then opened the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed a neatly folded stack of matching lingerie to put in her suitcase. She had a feeling that would come in handy.

  * * *

  “Miriam?” Io sat silently and listened. “Miri?”

  Damn, she had hung up. She was stronger than he was. He set down his phone and looked at the mess he had made on his stomach then grabbed a tissue from the box beside him and wiped himself off.

  With a sigh, he tossed the tissue in the trash and zipped up his pants. He was making excellent progress on his search for Gina. Finding where she had gone had been easier than he thought, but Gina would have to wait a bit longer. He needed a shower and one more round with his hand before he could focus on the last leg of his search.

  And he had a feeling Tristan would be calling him any minute with the good news. He would have to act surprised. No sense in letting the cat out of the bag that he already knew Miriam would be with him tonight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Apostle was back in Chicago, having arrived only a few hours ago.

  This sucks.

  He hated being back here. It was cold, and that just made him itch even more from the residual scorpion venom. And the last thing he wanted was for whoever had wiped out his entire team and his twin in such spectacular fashion to find out he was still alive.

  Oh, yeah. I’m sure that welcome committee would love to get their hands on me.

  His new human form was still much too puny
, only because his dreck body was still so emaciated. He couldn’t build a house without a foundation, which meant he needed to pack in the calories.

  He parked in front of his favorite Italian joint, RoSal’s. The place had a mafia family vibe, with white tablecloth service, and as far as Apostle was concerned, the food couldn’t be beat.

  After being seated and ordering an appetizer of their Famous Fried Ravioli, stuffed mushrooms, and a plate of Tortellini Alfredo, he sat back and looked around at the other patrons. All humans. Of course, the sun hadn’t set, yet. Once it did, the vampires would come out to play.

  Apostle checked his watch. His friends were late. He needed to learn what had happened while he had been locked away in his brother’s home.

  “You look good for a dead guy.” Apostle looked up to see Jarek take the seat across from him.

  Chezmu, who simply went by Chez, took one of the other seats. Both were drecks.

  “What can I say?” Apostle shrugged. “I wear death well.”

  Chez and Jarek chuckled before Jarek tapped his index finger on the cloth-covered table then leaned back. “Seriously, man. What happened? I heard the scene was pretty gruesome at your house.”

  Apostle sipped his wine. “They got the wrong guy.”

  When the two only gave him inquisitive looks, he added, “Whoever was after me killed my brother. They got Deacon, not me.”

  “Whoa!” Chez’s eyebrows popped as he exchanged glances with Jarek. “I bet Bishop was pissed.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Apostle shook his head.

  Apostle couldn’t get any respect, not even from those he considered friends. Well, maybe not friends, but at least close associates.

  “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that—”

  “Forget about it.” Apostle wasn’t in to their sentimental bullshit. “Everyone knows Bishop favored Deacon over me, but I’m not here to talk about Deacon.”

  Jarek and Chez nodded warily, as if they knew Apostle had already been through hell and back and could blow a fuse any second.

  “Tell me what you’ve heard about who did it.” Apostle leaned back as the server brought his appetizers.

  Jarek waited until the server left then leaned in so he could keep his voice down. “Word is there’s a bad-ass mixed-blood working at AKM. Seems the guy can mass compel or some shit, and he has some wicked abilities. My bet is he did it, but if he did, he’s not talking about it. Officially, the murders remain unsolved.”