She heard the shower go on and fought against the picture that wanted to form in her head of Damian stripping off his clothes, and stepping naked under the hot water.
“Cassandra?” he said from way too close.
She spun around to see him leaning around the corner, his broad shoulders and muscular chest enticingly exposed. That mental image of a naked Damian took on a new dimension.
“Cassandra?” he repeated, and she blinked, forcing her gaze to his face, which was more than enough to contribute to her daydreams.
“Damian?”
“No onions on the burgers, yeah?” He gave her a playful wink, and ducked out of sight. A heartbeat later, she heard the slide of the shower curtain followed by splashing water.
“Damn,” she whispered. She would have liked to believe nothing was going to happen between them tonight. But that would have been a lie.
Nonetheless, she did what she could to armor herself against seduction. She pulled on her rattiest, most comfortable sweatpants, and a slouchy sweater whose neck was so stretched out that it kept falling off her shoulder. After adding a pair of heavy socks to keep her feet warm, she was wearing the uniform of a woman who planned to stay home alone and watch old movies. This was definitely not what one wore when a warrior god was whistling in the shower only a few feet away. And, yes, he really was whistling.
Casting a scowl in his general direction, Casey put their room service order in, and then opened her laptop. She wanted to organize all of her facts before she called Lilia. She pulled up a map of the area, but didn’t really need it. She had travelled this part of the country enough times to know the major cities and highways. But looking at the map helped her think. When she’d considered all of the options and everything they knew, she picked up her phone.
Lilia was Nick’s personal assistant. At least, that was her official title. But she did a hell of a lot more than you’d normally find on a PA job description. As far as Casey could tell, the woman lived on Nick’s rather expensive Florida estate, and, yet, there wasn’t a hint of romance between them. Not that Casey had ever seen, anyway. Nick was a bit of a dog when it came to women, with a girl in every port. Lilia . . . well, she didn’t seem to have a life outside of her job. So despite the late hour, nearly ten o’clock in Florida, Casey knew the woman would still be at the office. Or if not in the actual office, then at least reachable . . . because she always was.
“Casey, my love,” Lilia answered, her words redolent of the deep South. Casey didn’t know if that’s where she came from, or if she just liked the way it sounded. “I hear you’ve recovered a long-sought-after treasure.”
Casey considered how to respond. Lilia knew that Casey was chasing the Talisman—she always knew the details of the hunts Nick sent them on—but she apparently didn’t know that it had been recovered, and then lost again.
“Not yet I haven’t,” she admitted. “I had it in my hands, but it slipped away.”
“Oh, my,” Lilia breathed, doing an excellent impression of a Southern belle from all the bad movies. “Was it . . . big?”
She frowned. “I guess. I mean you could probably wear it around your neck, but—”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Lilia asked, dropping the breathless accent.
“The Talisman,” Casey said, puzzled. “What are you—” On the other side of the wall, the shower turned off. Damian. Lilia was asking about Damian. “Lilia Wilson, get your mind out of the gutter!”
She laughed. “Oh, come on, Case, like you haven’t been lusting after the man. Nick says he’s gorgeous, and he knows his stuff when it comes to looks, male or female. ”
“Staring at yourself in the mirror doesn’t make you an expert on good looks,” Casey observed tartly.
Lilia just laughed. “So you’re saying this Damian person isn’t gorgeous?”
“Of course, he is but—” She paused long enough to listen carefully, wanting to be sure Damian wasn’t eavesdropping on her conversation. He was sneaky like that. “We’re working together, Lili. We’re partners. And he’s still adjusting to this new reality. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage—” She stopped, pretty sure Lilia wasn’t listening anymore, considering her hoots of amusement.
“Oh, God,” the other woman finally said, sniffing away her tears of laughter. “Thanks, I needed a good howl. So, you’re fucking him, right?”
“Lili!” she said in exasperation, then sighed. “It’s complicated, okay?”
“Only you would find that complicated,” Lilia said with a sigh. “But tell me, in a perfect world, would you like to fuck him?”
“Nick’s right,” she whispered. “He’s gorgeous, okay?”
“And you’re whispering,” Lilia said, whispering herself. “Are you sharing a room? Ooooh, my. You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
Casey started to agree, then realized she didn’t want to discuss the intimate details of Damian with anyone else. The memories of her time with him would be for her alone. But her silence spoke too loudly.
“Oh, Casey,” Lilia breathed. “You like him. Be careful, hon.”
“I know. I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. And not every man is a jerk like your idiot ex.”
“I know.” She sucked in a long breath. “But I didn’t call you to discuss my love life. I need a favor.”
“What can I do for you?” she asked, taking Casey’s cue and shifting to all business.
“I’m speculating here, but . . . I think they’re going to hit Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. You have that list of properties that we know belong to Sotiris, right?”
“Right. And you want me to see if any of them have suddenly gone active, anything that would suggest the bad guys are holing up there, waiting to strike. What timeframe?”
“Within the last week. The first whispers about the Talisman didn’t start until ten days ago, so they couldn’t have been planning it for much longer than that.”
“Unless they’ve known all along where the Talisman was, and just didn’t go after it until they were ready to use it.”
“Maybe. They clearly had safeguards set up in case anyone else tried to grab it. Like me. But if O’Hare’s their target, I still think they’ll have waited until the last minute to set up shop nearby. They know we’re after the device, and that we’ll try to stop whatever they’re planning. And they have to at least suspect that we can track their movements. So why advertise their presence?”
Lilia made a wordless sound of agreement. “I’ll dig into it and let you know what I find. Shall I get some of the other hunters moving in your direction? Terrell is already on his way back here; I could reroute him to you. And Carmen’s cooling her heels in New York, waiting on customs. She’d jump at the chance to get in on some real action.”
Casey thought about her fellow hunters and what they could bring to the game, but decided against it for now. “No,” she said. “I think this one’s going to require more stealth than firepower. Besides, if it comes to actual fighting, Damian’s all the army I need.”
“Is he?” Lilia purred.
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll meet him soon enough. Look, the weather is keeping us here tonight, but we’ll be on the road tomorrow. I’ll call Nick, but he never answers his phone. So if you talk to him first, let him know what’s up.”
“I will, but I don’t think he’ll need it. He’s following you pretty closely on this one. Damian’s important to him.”
“I know,” she said quietly, thinking to herself that Damian was important to more than just Nick. “See what you can find out about the safe houses, okay? And get back to me either way.”
“I’ll do that, darling. You take care.”
The dead air told Casey that her friend had disconnected, so she did the same, noting that her cell phone battery was d
own to less than fifty percent. She was bent over, digging out her charger when someone knocked on the door. Figuring it was room service, she started for the door, but Damian got there first. Dressed in nothing but a pair of the black boxer briefs she’d bought for him—she guessed he’d kept at least one pair—he stepped out of the dressing area near the bathroom and pulled the door open without even checking the peephole.
“Damian,” she cautioned, but it was too late. Frankly though, her warning wasn’t necessary, since the unmistakable scent of hamburger and fries hit her the minute the door opened.
“Well, hi there.” The voice was young and female, and plainly interested in a hell of a lot more than a good tip. Casey peered around Damian to find a young woman who looked no more than sixteen years old. But that didn’t stop her from gawking at a half-naked Damian. Casey stepped between him and the perky teenager. “I’ve got this,” she said, shooing him away from the door.
The young woman—really little more than a girl—shifted her reluctant attention to Casey. “Oh, hi,” she said, eyeing Casey’s shapeless outfit with an expression just short of a snicker. “You ordered food?” She gestured to the tray of covered dishes on a cart next to her.
“I’ll take that,” Damian said, pushing past Casey and lifting the heavy tray like it weighed nothing. And coincidentally flexing a few muscles, much to the delight of the delivery girl, whose eyes followed his every move.
Casey half-closed the door and stepped primly into the opening to block the girl’s view of Damian carrying the tray into the room. “You need me to sign something?”
“Yeah,” the teen said. “Or he could.”
Casey narrowed her eyes at the girl, and grabbed the check, signing it quickly and adding a generous tip, just to prove she wasn’t threatened by a ponytailed teenager. “Thanks,” she said, before all but slamming the door in her face. Because, really, the girl had just been rude the way she’d been eyeing Damian. He wasn’t some piece of meat. She turned around to find him grinning at her.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, and busied herself with finding her charger and plugging in her phone. But when she turned back, he was still smiling. “What?” she demanded.
His grin widened. “You’re jealous.”
“Hardly. Are you going to eat like that?”
“I’m comfortable,” he said, thankfully letting the jealousy issue drop. “Does it bother you if I wear this?”
“Not at all,” she lied, and started unloading their food onto the small table.
Without warning, his arms came around her, his heat plastered against her back. How did he keep doing that? Moving so quickly and so silently?
“Are you cold, Cassandra?” He slipped a hand under her sweatshirt and flattened his palm against her bare skin. She was suddenly sweating.
“I was,” she whispered. “Do you want—?” She sucked in a breath as his hand glided downward, past the loose waistband of her ratty sweats, his fingers barely skimming beneath the elastic band of the pink panties he’d picked out.
“Do I want?” he murmured. “Yes.”
Casey leaned against his powerful body, sucked into his heat, moving without conscious thought to get closer. She’d missed him, missed this. They’d been together for only two days, and apart for nearly that long, but he’d gotten beneath her skin somehow. She’d never cared much about any of the guys she’d dated, or, even less, hooked up with. They were convenient, nothing more. But not Damian. He was definitely more.
“Damian,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke the back of his neck, twisting her fingers in his long hair.
His arms surrounded her, his hands coming up to squeeze her breasts gently, weighing them in his big hands, the callused palms of a swordsman rough against her soft skin, rolling over her nipples until they were tight peaks of hunger, begging for attention. She arched her back, wanting more. Needing more. She felt sexual and feminine, powerful and needy at the same time. Damian flattened his hand against her belly, controlling her, holding her in place as he ground his cock against her ass. His long, hard, very aroused cock. She moaned at this evidence of his desire, proof that his hunger, his need matched her own.
Her sweats slipped off her hips, the worn elastic no match for the friction of Damian’s hard body rubbing against her. Straining against him, she turned her head, wanting his mouth. He kissed her briefly, a ravenous, biting kiss, his tongue stabbing in her mouth, in and out, teeth closing over her lip in a not-so-gentle bite. Strong fingers fisted in her hair, tugging her head back, as he trailed his tongue along the line of her jaw, closing his mouth over the vulnerable pulse point of her neck, sucking hard. She cried out, feeling every tug of his lips against her throat as if he was kissing her breasts, her belly, her clit. Her pussy clenched in sudden need and she sobbed his name. “Damian.”
“Let go, baby,” he murmured. “You can let go. I’ve got you.” Holding her tightly against his body, he turned to the tall, old-fashioned bed and bent her over until she was braced on the soft mattress, her ass high and crushed against his cock. He swore quietly and slipped a finger under the sodden silk of her panties, stroking her once before sliding his finger into her pussy. “Cassandra,” he murmured almost reverently. “You’re so wet. So fucking wet for me.”
She could only moan softly, her face buried in her arms as he fucked her with his rough finger, adding a second that stretched her tender tissues. She’d never liked this position with anyone else. She’d felt trapped, humiliated. But the only thing she felt right now was hotter, wetter, more excited than she’d ever been. Wanting more, she braced herself on one arm and reached for her panties with the other, tearing the delicate silk as she struggled to yank them over her hips.
But Damian was having none of it. He grabbed her hand and pressed it back to the bed over her head, holding it there as he growled, “Uh-uh, sweetheart. That pussy is mine.”
Casey growled in turn, wiggling her ass. “Then fuck me, damn it.”
Damian only laughed, the sound coming out in a hissed curse as he slowly, so fucking slowly, dragged her panties down her thighs and left them there, trapping her legs together. She felt the touch of soft cotton on her bare ass, the scrape of his hand as he pushed his briefs aside. The hot, silken rod of his cock brushed against her ass, and then he took hold of himself, dragging the tip of his penis through the creamy wetness of her pussy before pushing through her swollen folds, and entering her. There was no hesitation, no slow build-up, no gentleness. His hips flexed and he filled her in a single, forceful thrust, her inner tissues stretching around him, even as they welcomed the intrusion, caressing his hard length. He pulled back once, never leaving her body, and then he stilled, letting her adjust to his size. He made every inch of her feel wanted, claimed, cherished.
“Okay?” he murmured, then slipped a hand around her hips and between her thighs, teasing her clit, circling but never touching, building the hunger, the raw need until she thought she’d scream. Wanting more, wanting him to know she could take more, she lifted her hips higher, spreading her thighs as much as she could in lewd invitation. “Damn it, Cassandra,” he hissed and began fucking her, one thumb on her clit, the other hand gripping her hip, holding her in place as he pounded into her, making her body jolt with every thrust.
She moaned, her face buried in her arms, desperate for release, craving more—more of his touch, more of his cock driving into her liquid heat. He always made her feel like a raw virgin, as if she’d never fucked before, never felt the incredible sensation humming along her nerves, her pussy clenching around him over and over again. She writhed on the edge of climax, refusing to tip over, to surrender to the sensual feast of having his body against hers, inside hers.
Without warning, he pulled her upright, her back to his chest, as he surrounded her with his arms, caressing her, sparking so many sensations, emotions. The orgasm slamme
d into her without warning, taking her from a sweet swell of overwhelming pleasure to a crashing wave of passion that threatened to tear her apart. She thrashed in his arms, her nails digging in, blood trailing over his skin as he hissed his pleasure, fucking her through her climax, his grip almost punishing as he held her in place, his cock pounding into her from behind. And then it was Damian who was coming, a hot rush of liquid heat pouring into her body, his hips pumping, until finally with a soft grunt, he slowly stilled and wrapped his arms around her as they both collapsed onto the bed.
Casey closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable rejection, for him to realize what he’d done and walk away, leaving her cold, wet and alone. But it never happened. Tears leaked from beneath her eyelids as Damian curled his body around her, kissing her neck, tasting the sweat on her skin as he bit her jaw gently.
“Cassandra?” he said quietly, noticing her tears. She flushed with embarrassment.
“I didn’t think . . .” She sucked in a breath for courage. “I thought you’d never want me after . . . after what I said.”
“You were angry. We both were. Things were said—”
“It’s not easy for me,” she said in a rush, before she could change her mind. “None of this.”
“I’ll tell you a secret, sweetheart. It’s not easy for anyone.”
She nodded, embarrassed, but relieved at the same time. He wasn’t making a big deal out of it, wasn’t demanding she bare her soul to reveal the soft underbelly of who she was. She placed her arms over his where they circled her waist, frowning when her hands encountered the raw furrowed flesh she’d left there, the sticky blood.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, horrified at what she’d done. “Your poor arms!”
But he only chuckled, sounding more arrogant than wounded. “I’ll heal,” he assured her. “I like that I can drive you to such violence.”
The Stone Warriors: Damian Page 24