Wicked Ride

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Kellach,” she moaned, the warmth from his skin heating hers. His mouth, his hands, his chest . . . all warmed impossibly with the fingers controlling fire inside her.

  He removed his fingers and covered her, his cock shoving inside her with one merciless stroke.

  Pain and pleasure melded into a sensation beyond both. She expelled a ragged gasp of raw need, any semblance of sanity shattering.

  “Alexandra.” Both heated hands cupped her face, his fingers threading through her hair. He gave no quarter, gripping her scalp, holding her in place.

  Vibrations shook her thighs as they quaked around his hips. His muscles bunched and knotted along his shoulders, and she dug in her fingers, flames dancing between them. There was no way to counter this.

  He slid out, all heat and sparks, and powered back into her. With a fierce growl, he twisted one hand to hold her in place and reached down to grab her ass with the other, brushing her brand on the way.

  Electricity zinged from the touch, and she moaned.

  He lifted her, pounding into her, thrusting hard enough to shake her breasts. The slap of flesh against flesh filled the air, and tension expanded inside her, uncoiling along the way. She blinked, trying to focus. Flames morphed down his back, lighting the hallway. Carnal and savage, his expression hardened into something so masculine and beautiful, he stole her breath.

  He pummeled so hard inside her, so far, flames licking the way, she truly lost where she ended and he began. Then there was nothing but climbing, so high and fast, so dangerously free.

  A hard thrust, scalding her clit, threw her spiraling over the edge. She cried out, flattening her palms against his chest, riding the waves of fire. They consumed her, wringing every ounce of pleasure from her.

  Finally, her legs went boneless and her mind quieted. He stiffened against her, held tight, and came with a hard shudder.

  The only sound he made was the hoarse whisper of her name against her neck. “Alexandra.” And one more word. “Mine.”

  Chapter 28

  Kellach grasped two cups of coffee, his bare feet padding the floor toward the bedroom. Dawn streaked outside in pretty patterns of pink and gold. He’d yanked on an old pair of jeans just in case Simone reappeared.

  His woman slept soundlessly in his big bed, her face in a pillow, her arm flung across the mattress. She looked fragile in one of his T-shirts. The blankets had been shoved down, revealing the top of her exquisite ass. If he moved just right, he could make out the Celtic Knot on her hip. His brand.

  Satisfaction rumbled through him.

  Even so, unease had him drawing in a deep breath. The sex, along with their fire, had been fucking amazing, but they hadn’t solved a damn thing. “Alexandra.”

  She turned around, her eyes already open. “Why do you always use my full name?” Her gaze landed on the coffee cups, and he could swear, she purred. She pushed herself up to sit.

  He handed her a cup, enjoying her soft murmur of appreciation when she scented the brew. A pretty pink climbed into her face from the steam. “I like you on my tongue. All of you.”

  She blinked and then took a big swallow. “The things you say.”

  “All true.” She took another drink and then stopped cold, her eyes widening. “Oh, God. Did I do that?”

  He glanced down at the perfect burn marks of her hands on his chest. “Aye.”

  She gasped. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry. Fire takes time to learn to control, and it’s amazing you can create so much already.” Her hangdog expression hit him hard, so he quickly sent healing cells to the burns. “I liked wearing your mark, but I’ll heal the skin.”

  She sat back and watched, her eyes widening as the burns slowly disappeared. “That’s quite a talent.”

  “You’ll have it at some point.” But there was no need to rush fire. “While I enjoyed teaching you about fire”—and as to his strength—“we failed to reach an agreement last night.”

  She sipped her coffee, watching over the rim. “Well, I do concede that perhaps I don’t have the control over fire that you do. That other witches may have.”

  He loved, fucking loved, her sense of fairness.

  Why the hell hadn’t he taken that approach with her? Oh yeah. He’d been pissed off about her attitude and hurting Simone’s feelings. He had to admit, the little lesson in fire had been well worth the anger.

  He raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I can deal with the human scumbags, and you can handle the immortal scumbags.”

  He smiled, the pressure in his chest finally releasing.

  “That is, until I’m immortal. Then all scumbags are free game.” She took another drink of coffee.

  He didn’t exactly agree, but since he had time to deal with that situation, he took the out and nodded. “For now, let’s just keep to our own species. Once you’re immortal, we’ll fight about it.” Well, it was fair to give her warning.

  She grinned, all imp. “I do like how you fight.”

  He shook his head. “Fire can keep you from orgasm as easily as licking you to it.”

  Her eyelids flipped all the way open. “Oh, you wouldn’t.”

  “I certainly would.” He set a knee on the bed and sat. “Fair warning.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “At some point, I’ll be able to control fire as well as you do. So fair warning right back.”

  Perhaps. Perhaps not. “I’m sure you’ll give it your best shot.” As she did everything else. Pride filled him, and he let her see it. “I’m pleased with you, Alexandra.”

  She sipped again. “Does that mean you like me, like me?” Her grin was all sauce.

  “Yes.” He leaned over and tasted the coffee off her lips. Much better than from his cup. “And you?”

  She inhaled, her eyes darkening in a vulnerability that compressed his lungs. “I like you, too.” She blew out air. “I trust you, Kellach Dunne.” Then she wiggled, a frown marring her perfect lips.

  Her trust, probably never given before, cut right into his chest and burrowed deep. “I’m keeping you.” The other words, the ones she wasn’t quite ready to hear, those would come later. For now, all he could do was show her trust and love . . . and she’d learn to accept both.

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced around the room. A quick search found it beneath some socks on the dresser, and he answered the call. “Simone.”

  Alexandra winced.

  Simone cleared her throat over the line. “I’d come talk to you in person, but you sent out enough vibrations last night, I fear your apartment is one big scorched disaster.”

  He chuckled. “I think the apartment is fine. You may come over.”

  “No thanks. I’ve been researching all night, and I think your mate may be on to something.”

  His mate. Just the words, the acknowledgment of Alexandra as his, shot a masculine satisfaction through him. “Simone, forget about Demidov. The guy was a jackass, and he’s dead. Gone and buried.”

  “He had so many women through the years, the fucking prick, and I think one bore him a kid.”

  Kell frowned. “He wasn’t mated.”

  “No, but . . . although rare in witches . . . there have been children created without the mating bond.” Simone clacked keys in the background. “I’ve found records from the turn of the century. There may be a child out there.”

  Kell lifted his head, his thoughts swimming. “If the kid was close to Demidov, he may want revenge for his father’s death. Especially against the Nine.”

  “He or she. Could be a woman.” Simone sighed. “Women like revenge just as much as you men, if not more.”

  “Good point. Keep working that angle and report to Daire.” Kell kept his eyes on his mate, wondering if there was a way to get to her father in prison for some more answers.

  Simone huffed. “I don’t work or take orders from you, Kellach Gideon Dunne.” She ended the call.

  Alexandra scrunch
ed her nose. “Gideon?”

  He sighed. Damn Simone and her loud voice. “My middle name. My cousins all use it when they’re irritated with me.” Unfortunately, that happened far more than he liked.

  “Your cousin is, rather, tough.”

  Kell smiled. “You remind me of each other.”

  Alexandra took another sip of her coffee. “Really?”

  “Yes. Strong and somewhat sassy with deep loyalty and hidden sweetness.” Life had created them both as survivors, but they’d die for those they loved.

  “If you say so.” Alexandra set her cup on the end table and slid from the bed. “I need to get ready for work.”

  “What’s on the agenda today?” Kell asked, wondering if there was time for some fun in the shower.

  She swallowed. “My father’s parole hearing is today, and I am scheduled to testify.” Standing in her bare feet with only one of his big T-shirts covering her, she appeared young and fragile.

  Kell fought the urge to put her back in the luxurious sheets. “What’s your testimony?”

  She sighed. “He said if I help him get parole, he’ll give me all the info on Apollo from the top down.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “No.” Regret shimmered in her eyes, and she twisted the hem of Kell’s shirt near her thighs. “I don’t want him out or anywhere near my mother.”

  “I’ll keep your mother safe.” The promise escaped Kell before he could find a gentler way to make the vow.

  Alexandra studied him. “If anything ever happens to me, will you promise to protect her as well as my sister?”

  He nodded, touched way out of proportion to the request. “You have my word.”

  “Thank you.”

  He cleared his throat. “Did your father ever hurt you or your sister?”

  She shrugged. “No. He didn’t much care for us, but he didn’t hit us. Although he was mean as hell to my mother.” Alexandra frowned. “How did you know about him?”

  “His name came up as a known associate of Spike Evertol, and we investigated him,” Kell said.

  “Oh.”

  “Speaking of your life.” Kell strode over to the other end table and opened the drawer to tug out the manila envelope. He tossed it to Alexandra.

  She caught it, her hands slapping together. “What’s this?”

  “Background on you. Considering the king gave it to me, it’s probably everything.” Kell glanced around for his watch.

  “It’s not opened.”

  His gaze landed on her. “No. I figured I’d rather learn everything you want me to hear from you and not the king. The envelope is yours.”

  She eyed him, a small smile playing with her lips. “That’s sweet.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “Nobody has ever called me sweet.”

  “Then they don’t know you.” She skirted the bed, all long legs and smooth skin, and stretched up on her toes to kiss his chin. “Thank you.”

  Denying his curiosity had been fucking worth it to feel that one touch. “You’re welcome.” He allowed himself a moment of peace to enjoy her nearness before turning back to business. “Is there any way I can accompany you to the parole hearing today?”

  Hope flared in her eyes only to be quickly squelched. “No. As long as you’re undercover, we can’t be seen together, or I’ll lose my job. Plus, you need Titans of Fire to believe you’re one of them, right?”

  “Right.” He rubbed his eyes. “So far, we haven’t gotten Pyro to admit his connection to Apollo. I don’t think he’s high enough on the food chain to know the manufacturer, but he can get us a lot closer.”

  “What’ll make him trust you?” she mused.

  “Giving him guns, probably.” Kellach held up a hand. “That was the deal. We’d supply guns, and he’d supply Apollo. The trade is supposed to happen tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. “Tell me you don’t have guns.”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “Kellach.” She slapped her forehead. “You’re kidding me.”

  “We have the guns, and if we trade, we’ll get them back.” He shrugged. “We’ll do what is necessary to trace the drug to its manufacturer. You know that.”

  She stretched her neck. “I have to follow rules and the law.”

  “As do I. They’re just different rules and different laws.” Someday, she’d see the vastness of the world and realize that humans were only one species with specific laws. The immortal ones had lasted much longer. “For now, you follow yours and I’ll follow mine.”

  She pressed her hands against her hips. “If our laws collide?”

  He grinned. “We’ll duke it out again.”

  “Whatever.” She stomped toward the shower. “I need to stop by my place for more clothes.”

  He shoved open a walk-in closet. “I had Simone purchase a full wardrobe for you, considering I keep burning up your clothing.”

  Alexandra peeked into the spacious room with the abundance of clothes and accessories. “You can’t buy me clothing.”

  “I just did.”

  She turned, her gaze thoughtful. “Simone seriously went shopping for me?”

  Kell snorted. “Well, she had one of her personal shoppers go shopping for you. Take what you want and give the rest to charity.” Yeah, he liked providing for Alexandra.

  She fingered a teal silk shirt almost with longing. “I’ll pay you back.”

  He tapped her chin. “How about I just burn them off you later?”

  A flush covered her pale skin, but she kept glancing around. “So you’re loaded, huh?”

  “Aye.” Most women would be pleased by that fact, but he’d bet his last quid Alexandra wouldn’t react like most women.

  “Humph.”

  He tugged her from the closet and toward the shower. “You do no’ like money?”

  “I do no’ like what people will do to keep money.” She mimicked his brogue perfectly.

  Hmmm. He’d have to change her mind about money because he planned to spend a pile of it on her, cherishing her in a way her father had failed to do for so many years.

  For now, he needed to get her into the shower to start the day off right.

  Chapter 29

  Lex sat on the hard metal chair and tried not to shiver in the freezing environment. She was alone in the waiting room at the prison, waiting to testify at the parole hearing. A guard behind a bulletproof glass window paid her no heed.

  The outside door opened, and her heart warmed as her younger sister marched in. “Tori.”

  Her sister hustled toward her, clipping high-heeled boots across the concrete, and tugged her from the chair for a floral scented hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  Lex hugged back, grateful beyond words that her sister had come. “I thought you were going to tour Oregon after California.” She leaned back to study her wild child of a sister. Long, curly blond hair streaked with purple cascaded down Tori’s back. Her makeup shimmered, and her clothes, a green T-shirt and ripped jeans, somehow sparkled.

  Her eyes were a darker blue than Lex’s. “We finished the tour, and I knew I needed to be here.” Bangles, tons and tons of them, clanged on her left wrist. “You look different.”

  Yeah. She’d mated a witch, was becoming immortal, and had enjoyed unbelievable sex recently. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Damn straight.” Tori rubbed one of Lex’s shirtsleeves. “Is this real silk?”

  From the corner of her mouth, Lex said, “Later,” once more.

  Tori nodded and glanced around the dingy room. “Are you ready for this?”

  “No. You?”

  “Never.” Tori sighed. “I stopped by to see Mom before coming here. She wants the bastard to come home.”

  “I know.” Lex shook her head. “It’s so sad.”

  Tori tucked an arm through Lex’s. “How’s the money holding up?”

  “Great,” Lex said.

  “I’d call you a liar except for that shirt and those amazing boots. You on the take,
sis?” Tori chortled.

  “No. They were a gift.” Lex kept her gaze on the guy behind the glass.

  “From whom?” Tori reached down to rub the butter-soft leather. “A man?”

  Lex smacked her hand. “What part of later don’t you understand? For now, the money is fine.” Her sister had sold her car and sent most of her last couple paychecks to help out, and unfortunately, she didn’t make much.

  “Can I stay with you?” Tori asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. It’s either that or credit, and I’m running low.” she sighed.

  Lex nodded. “Amen, sister.”

  A buzz sounded, and the guard gestured them toward the door and ensuing metal detector. Lex led the way, her boots clipping, her shoulders back, her badge perched at her waist.

  She walked into the hearing room where five parole officers sat behind a wide wooden table. Their father sat over at a far box, his hands cuffed to the table in front of him.

  “There are my girls,” he said, smiling as if truly proud to see them.

  Tori tripped and Lex slipped an arm through her sister’s to help balance her. Trembles quivered through Tori’s entire body, and Lex tightened her hold, trying to give her sister strength.

  “Come sit down,” Lex said, leading Tori to the seats on the other side of the table. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered.

  Tori didn’t answer but sat down, her vibrancy dimming.

  The head of the board, Miles Stanton, made some announcements and called for testimony. First, their father testified as to how he’d messed up but had found himself in prison and had changed. He stated he wanted nothing more than to get to know his girls again, and he would spend the rest of his life making things up to them.

  Miles Stanton, about fifty with graying hair and a bushy beard, nodded at Tori. “The prisoner’s daughter, Tori Monzelle, will speak first.”

  Tori cleared her throat. “I, ah, think parole is a bad idea,” she whispered.

  Their father clanked his chains. “Tori, baby. Please—”

  Stanton shushed him. “Continue, Miss Monzelle.”