by May Dawson
He began to pump harder and faster into me, and one of my hands roamed down to explore his hard and narrow hipbones, the muscular curve of his ass. Everything about him felt so good. Then my orgasm started to build in waves of heat and pleasure, my face growing hot, the sensation so strong that even though it was good, I could hardly bear it. I hung onto his shoulders, buried my face against his smooth and hard pecs, and let myself come in waves in that intimate position. He stopped, shuddering with his own orgasm, his face against my neck and hair.
He turned his head and kissed my cheek, a sweet little kiss that seemed in complete contrast to the rough way he’d just taken me. His lips quirked up as if he were going to say something, but he didn’t.
I turned onto my side, drawing him against me, feeling his cock against my thighs as I drew his arm over my shoulders. “I require cuddling,” I told him loftily.
And I knew with Levi I would always get what I needed, and probably what I wanted. He settled in behind me, drawing me against his powerful body. Whatever he’d been close to saying might have been lost, but he didn’t need words to tell me that I was safe and loved.
8
“You ready?” Jacob said gruffly, leaning against the kitchen island.
I held a finger up, still drinking steadily from my mug. I needed a full cup of coffee before I talked to Jacob. Especially after my late night. I was still bleary-headed with sleep.
But I hadn’t wanted to be late. It was 8:55. I was ready for my date, just like I was supposed to be.
“You better bring a jacket. It might be chilly where we’re going.”
Okay, maybe I wasn’t ready.
I would have to run upstairs to where the pile of new clothes was still piled up by Levi’s door. I’d grabbed a few sweaters at H&M. That morning, I’d taken a quick shower to shake off sleep and then pulled on brand new jeans and a red knit top, grateful to have some clothes that I had picked out myself. I would have told Levi that, but he rolled over and went back to sleep. I’d been a little jealous of him.
“Your jacket’s hanging up in the closet. Ryker put it away for you.” There was that faint tartness in his voice, like usual, telling me how much of an incompetent slob I was. As if I even knew where the coat closet was in this house. “Want me to grab it for you?”
“Sure,” I said flatly. Well, this was going to go well.
He came back carrying the tan leather jacket that I’d inherited from Wendy. He held it out like a gentleman, even though he glanced away like he was embarrassed by the gesture.
I quickly slipped my arms in and shrugged it on, taking a step away from him as soon as it slid over my shoulders. God, I wished things could just be comfortable between us; maybe I should have taken him up on his offer to start over. But I knew I’d never forget what he’d said to me, when he told me that he loved me in a voice like he hated me. “Thanks. It’s, you know, June. And I don’t know where we’re going that it’s going to be so cold. But okay. Maybe Hell is freezing over and you’re going to be nice to me and that will be fun right before we die of hypothermia.”
He stared at me as if the way my mind worked weirded him out. “It’s a surprise.”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t so sure about surprises when it came to Jacob. Levi’s surprise had been a night away from the madness of our lives; Ryker’s surprise had been a night of cliff-jumping. I was a little bit afraid that Jacob intended to top Ryker’s date.
“Is everyone else still asleep?” I asked, trying not to yawn. I could feel it starting to get the better of me, though, a faint ache at the back of my throat.
“Yeah,” he said. “Bunch of dossers.”
I snapped my lips shut, holding back my yawn.
“Let’s go,” he said, heading for the door to the garage. His dark curls brushed against his broad shoulders, which were dramatically broader than the sweep down the V of his back to his tapered waist. It was a shame all that pretty came wrapped around so much attitude.
I slid into the seat in the Jeep next to him. I twisted in my seat to clip my seatbelt in, and that was why I saw the picnic basket in the backseat.
“I take it no bologna in there?” I teased.
Jacob shook his head. “Ryker loves the world’s worst foods. Bologna. Mac and cheese. Bacon everything. He’s got the most American palate.”
I also had an American palate. “Who doesn’t like bacon?”
“It has its place,” he said, starting up the Jeep. He twisted in his seat, putting an arm over my headrest, to back out of the garage. “But it doesn’t need to be in everything. Bacon doughnuts? You people should be embarrassed.”
“I can’t wait to judge your country of origin based on the lunch you packed us,” I said, resisting the temptation to stick my tongue out at him. Really mature, Ellis. He did bring out my most bratty side.
His eyes flickered over to me. “I am American,” he said flatly.
“Of course.” My stomach bottomed out. God, I’d hurt his feelings. Again. “I know. It’s just the accent throws me. And the general disdain—”
“It’s all right,” he cut me off. “It’s true, I didn’t grow up here. I have a different perspective. You don’t need to apologize.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize,” I said tartly. I knew I should stop, but I didn’t. The conversation I’d overheard played again in my head. “You never apologize. Why should I apologize?”
“I apologize,” he said. “When I owe someone an apology.”
I crossed my arm over my chest.
“No,” he said, just as I parted my lips to point out that he owed someone in this Jeep an apology.
It was quiet except for the sound of the wheels turning over gravel as we steered out towards the main road, but instead of turning onto the paved road that led towards town, Jacob turned us down a dirt track that led deeper into the forest around their house.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please don’t let this plan involve heights. It was one thing to do something that felt risky and terrifying with Ryker, who both challenged me and adored me. I didn’t need one more opportunity to embarrass myself in front of Jacob.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Can I just surprise you?”
“Is it a surprise I’m going to like?” I asked. “You don’t have a vampire in a box or something like that?”
“Well, you do make me want to find a geist to stab,” he said.
I pursed my lips at him. Like Ryker had said, slaying was cheaper than therapy.
“But no,” he went on. “I actually did try to plan a date that you’re going to like. Though why, I don’t know.”
“Me either,” I said. “Ryker and Levi and I have a good reason to bond. But you’re going to be out of here soon.”
“We all have to survive the Far first.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, perplexed as usual by Jacob, and then began to pull my hair back into a ponytail. He wanted to be free from us, but sometimes it seemed like he didn’t want to leave, either.
“Where are you going to go, anyway?”
“Why does it matter to you?” He pulled to a stop. We were in a small clearing, and there was a metal lean-to in front of us.
“What’s this?” I asked. Besides a likely location to spring a vampire-in-a-box on a girl.
“I keep our helicopter out here.” He climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.
We were going on a helicopter ride? I’d never been, and I felt a surge of excitement. It was funny, but heights didn’t bother me as long as I was in a plane or safely behind glass. It was my own clumsiness I was most scared of. I was just the kind of person who fell off the monkey bars or slipped on wet rocks. Whatever angel hand-picked me for this destiny gig had an awful sense of humor.
I scrambled to get out of the car myself. “I thought you had to ditch it when you rescued us.”
He rested a forearm on the side of the Jeep, looking self-satisfied. “When you rescued us. Man
, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
“Yep,” I said. “We already established you’re a nice guy deep down, didn’t we? That you want to be nice to me. You just can’t help yourself.”
“You would know,” he said. “Your mouth’s always running off with you.”
For some reason, staring across the car at him, at the little smirk on his kissable lips and those golden eyes that seemed hypnotic, I thought about him kissing me. To shut me up, of course. That was what he’d say. Maybe I should kiss him first. He certainly needed to be shut up sometimes.
He stared back at me, his eyes smoldering, as if he were thinking of things that were just as inappropriate. What was wrong with me? Why was I drawn to him even when he was an ass?
He was the one who broke off his gaze, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Ha; I’d won that round. Maybe. I turned myself, heading for the lean-to.
“Different helicopter,” he said. “I stole that one because I knew I’d have to ditch it. This one, I built.”
I stopped with my hand on the door. “I’m not so sure about this.”
“I’ve taken Ryker and Levi up plenty of times,” he said impatiently. He was suddenly right behind me, reaching past me to open the door; his big, scarred hand wrapped around the doorknob, and then he slid past me. His denim-covered thighs slid against my ass, just for a second, and I took a step forward, willing my heart to stop racing.
In the dim of the building, he crossed under the blades and ran his hand over the glossy white front of a small white helicopter. He looked more fond of that thing than I’d seen him look at any human being.
“How did you learn to fly?”
He glanced towards me, then pulled up a roll-up garage door. His arms worked above his head, his shirt riding up to expose his chiseled lower abs above his low-slung jeans on his narrow hips, as he pushed the old-fashioned door along its tracks. “You’re always so curious, aren’t you?”
“That’s what a date’s for, you know. Getting to know each other.”
“I’m not that interesting, Princess,” he told me, turning away. He set his shoulder against the back of the helicopter and leaned into it, pushing it across the floor and down the ramp.
I joined him on the other side of the helicopter’s tail. The glossy white paint felt cool against my palms, and I planted my feet on the concrete pad to help push.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said shortly.
“I don’t want you to bitch at me.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a very romantic date if I made you help. Or, I suppose, if I bitched at you.”
I grinned. Jacob being romantic seemed more preposterous than Jacob being nice.
Then the helicopter was out in the sunshine. I stood back, dusting my hands off, feeling a familiar ache in my shoulders. I was always sore these days.
“Come on.” Jacob seemed genuinely enthused for once as he clapped me on the shoulder. He slipped ahead of me to swing open the door and held it open, gesturing me n.
To the pilot’s seat.
I quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I can handle the helicopter controls from my side. I just thought you might like to learn to fly.”
“Well, yeah,” I said.
“I’ll take her up and then I’ll let you have the controls,” he said as he climbed in beside me. He reached over me, his shoulder brushing mine, and took the headset off a hook hanging above the door. Leaning in close to me, he settled the headset over my ears, the look on his face intent and business-like.
Except that I was completely capable of putting headphones on myself. I felt the faintest smirk, nerves and attraction all at once, come to my lips, and I tried hard to fight it back. No smirking. I hated that these boys smirked all the time. Maybe it was contagious.
He slipped his own headset on, and then started the helicopter up. It shook and vibrated beneath us, and I looked for something to hold onto. Beside the stick-shaped control between my knees, because clearly if I touched the controls, I would send us to fiery doom. There was nothing to hold onto.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, toying with his mic. His voice sounded muffled through the headset.
I nodded.
“Say something,” he said impatiently. “So I know if I can hear you.”
“You’re a jackass.”
“Great.” He reached over and gathered my hands together in my lap. I frowned at him, confused about why he was holding my hand. Did he really intend to fly a spinny-death-machine with just one hand? It was not the right time for romantic hand-holding. And Jacob was not the right guy for romantic hand-holding. And I probably wasn’t the girl for it, either.
“Hands in your lap, I’ll tell you when you can touch things,” he said to me. “Let’s go.”
The feel of the helicopter lifting into the air was pure exhilaration. The world fell away from us, until it spread below in a pattern of greens and blues and gray rock. The forest beneath us was bisected by roads, and to the west I could see neat tracts of farmland. Everything looked tidier, cleaner, from the air. It was hard to believe the world down there was full of human treachery and resentful spirits.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
He reached out and tapped the top of the stick between my knees. “Take the cyclic.”
I side-eyed him. The man who didn’t trust me for one damn thing really wanted me to take the controls? He nodded, and I took it in my hand the same way he had held the stick when he was lifting off. But… lightly. My fingers barely rested around the black plastic grip, afraid that I would accidentally nudge the helicopter into a death spiral.
“It’s not fragile,” he said impatiently. “Don’t worry, Princess—I won’t let you kill us.”
“Comforting,” I muttered. But I gripped the controller a little more tightly.
“This is the cyclic,” he said. “If you push it forward, our rotator blades tilt forward, and we go that way.” He pointed forward out the window. “Go ahead and try it.”
I pushed it forward, and the helicopter moved forward.
“Same in every direction,” he said. “Try pushing it to the left.”
I did, and the helicopter continued to face forward, but hovered towards the left. The feeling of floating above the Earth was incredible, and I found myself grinning.
I turned to look at Jacob, and he grinned back at me, like my joy lit him up too.
“Easier than I thought,” I said.
“To really fly this thing,” he said, “you need to know the four controls. Besides the cyclic, there’s the anti-torque, the collective pitch control, and of course, the throttle.”
“Of course the throttle,” I repeated.
And just like wielding magic, it turned out that flying a helicopter was a whole lot of work.
When he’d run through it all, he pointed forward. “Go ahead and follow the river.”
I was nervous I’d do something wrong. But Jacob was right beside me, the slightly-impatient teacher as usual, with his quick, confident hands on the controls, talking me through it all. As we followed the gleaming silver thread of the river through the forest and fields, hovering high above tin-can cars and toy-sized cows, flying became a heady feeling.
“You’re a quick learner,” he said. “I’m going to take over now. Landing’s really counterintuitive—you really have to force the helicopter down, it doesn’t want to land again.”
“Me either,” I said. I cocked my head to one side, trying to commit those words to memory. Who knew when Jacob would say something nice to me again?
Maybe he’d practiced that. Maybe say something nice had been a note he’d made to himself when he was studying up on humans and Dating 101.
“I’ll take you up again,” he promised. “Teach you to fly for yourself.”
“Even the landing part?” I teased.
“If you promise you won’t steal my helo and run away,” he said.
As he cut the engine, I p
ulled my own headset off. I bit down on my lower lip, waiting for the drone of the blades to fade as they revolved slower and slower. The blades dipped down towards earth.
I’d felt close to Jacob for a few minutes up there. But that glow of warmth was almost always followed by some kind of sting. As we pushed the helicopter back into its hangar, I thought that maybe we should end our date on a high note.
But Jacob grabbed the picnic basket out of the back of the Jeep and nodded towards a narrow trail that led from the clearing.
“We’ve got about a hundred acres here,” he said, going ahead of me under the twisting, intertwined branches. “When I came out here, Ryker and Levi helped me build the shed so I’d have a space to work on my chopper. It’s out here, hidden, in case we ever need an escape.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
He stepped out into a sunny clearing, looking out over a long hill interspersed with rocks and small, twisted trees.
“I needed a place to myself,” he admitted. “It was weird—I remembered the house from when I was a kid, but I remembered everything different.”
“How old were you when you left?” I realized, too late, that when you left might be the wrong way to phrase it. He hadn’t wanted to go.
“I was eight,” he said. He threw out a blanket on the side of the hill, its red fringed ends fluttering briefly in the breeze before it settled to the grass, and then threw the picnic blanket down on top of it. “What else do you want to know, Ellis?”
I didn’t know what to ask, so I knelt on the edge of the blanket, curling my legs behind me. It had been cool up in the air, but now I was sun-warmed and tired, and I slipped my jacket off, folding it over once before I set it next to me.
“I guess I want to know what you want to tell me,” I said. I didn’t want to keep pushing him.
He nodded. “Well, the short version of the whole British thing is that since I’m a Nephilim, everyone and their brother wanted their hands on me. The angels wanted to kill me—half-angels are a travesty—and the demons wanted to torture me and then kill me. Wendy thought she could keep me safe. When she found she couldn’t, she packed me off to an English hunting family. A pack of assholes, unfortunately. But they kept me safe.”