Fine. If she had to unplug everything in the apartment, that was what she’d do. She didn’t bother with the remote and went right for the outlet with the big extension port to accommodate all her electronics and unplugged the whole thing. This also turned off the main light and she was plunged into darkness save for the soft blue glow of her laptop.
“Is that all you got?” she said into the darkness, not caring whether she looked like an idiot. She wasn’t going to let some fucking poltergeist or whatever come into her home and try to scare—
The pain in her neck was sudden and her windpipe was compressed under a crushing force. She was yanked back, losing her footing, and put all of her weight against whatever was strangling her.
Her free hand clawed at the pressure in her neck, trying to rip through it with her nails, but the firm, rubbery cord wasn’t budging. So she went nuclear and aimed the gun behind her before she fired. But the pressure didn’t lessen even a fraction. She elbowed behind her, but her arm didn’t connect with anything. It was air, but not any air. Cold and thick, almost like a fog. It was there and not there at the same time….
As she ran out of options to fight back and the need for oxygen grew, she became desperate. She kicked and clawed, but nothing helped. And right as she could feel unconsciousness swirling around the edges, she shot at the entity behind her again, pulling the trigger over and over, willing something to happen.
And then it did. The door to her apartment exploded open and just like that, she was dropped, collapsing on the floor in a heap. She didn’t look at who had rescued her, instead trying to see what had attacked.
But there was nothing there. Just cold, empty air.
“I’m coming over. No, you were attacked. I’m coming over right now and—”
Sam studied Derek, really wishing she knew what else had gone wrong. She had seen that it was Parker calling, and whatever she had said had Derek jumping up and running for the door.
She felt as though the walls were closing in on her. It was more claustrophobic in his apartment than crawling around in those air vents had been.
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to come here.” That had her attention. Sam leaned in closer to Derek as he said, “I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow. I’m going to text you an address. Are you sure you don’t want me to come out? We can look for prints or— Okay. Keep your phone close.” He hung up and Sam could finally pounce on the questions she had.
“What happened? Is Parker okay? Was my mother involved? Was my grandmother involved?” At this point, who knew which of her family members was wreaking havoc on her friends?
Derek ran a hand over his face and shook his head, though she wasn’t sure which question he was saying no to. “Parker was attacked by… something. She said it was like a ghost.” He met Sam’s eyes. “Anything I should know about ghosts?”
Sam shrugged. “They don’t exist?”
“Then the invisible, non-corporeal man broke into Parker’s place and tried to strangle her with an extension cord.”
Shit. “Are we going over there?”
“I tried to, but she was pretty insistent there was no point. She said no body, no evidence.”
He paused for a second and she could tell there was more he wasn’t saying. “What?”
“I… I get the idea she didn’t want to go back.”
Sam tried to reconcile the strong, confident woman she’d met with someone afraid to go back to their apartment. “You told her not to come here.”
“If Abigail or Garrett pays us a visit, I don’t want Parker to be here.” He started to run his fingers over the screen of his phone. “I’m going to have Claire and the punk check it out.”
She raised a brow at that. “The punk has a name.”
“He has green hair. He’s a punk. Besides, Parker saved his life so I think she’ll feel comfortable around him, and we all know Claire can take care of herself. Parker will be safer with the two of them than us right now anyway.”
He was right but Sam wasn’t happy about it. After a few minutes and a flurry of text messages, Derek finally set the phone down and collapsed into one of the mismatched chairs in his messy kitchen. “Fuck, Sam.”
“I’m sorry.” She sat in the other chair.
He ran both of his hands through his hair all the way back until he reached the nape of his neck and then forward, leaving the short black strands disheveled and somehow making him look even more handsome. “Why are you sorry?”
She stared at him as if he were slow. “Because my family tried to kill you. Again.”
He shrugged, as though it were no big deal. “I went into that house with you,” he pointed out. “And we already knew it could be a bad idea. Which it was. A remarkably bad idea.”
“Thank God you had the pepper spray.” Even though his eyes were still red from it after a thorough scrubbing of his hands and face, she knew that distraction was the only thing that had allowed them time to run. Otherwise, Sam knew she would be one of those zombies, just like Garrett. She held out a hand to Derek. “Come on.”
He eyed her hand for a second. “Come where?” he asked skeptically.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “To shower. You were just in a disgusting air vent,” she pointed out.
“You dragged me there,” he said as he put his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him to the bathroom.
“I remember seeing the construction of the house. Mom tried to get me to move back in hundreds of times and kept on pointing out all the fire protection measures she’d put in. I kept thinking how convenient those vents would’ve been for when I was too young to attend the parties. I’d always tried to spy on what all the grownups were doing. Those vents would be the perfect spot. I guess they finally paid themselves off.”
They reached the bathroom and she turned on the water, giving it plenty of time to heat up as she turned to Derek.
It was a small bathroom to begin with, but with him in it, the room seemed microscopic. She was worried he’d think she was strange for being horny so soon after their life-or-death encounter earlier, but from the way his eyes had darkened, she knew he was on the same page.
He was quiet as she started to undo the buttons on his shirt, but he didn’t help her either. He watched her every move intently. When she finished with the buttons, she pushed the shirt and shoulder holster off his shoulders, leaving him in a thick undershirt and pants. His arms were big and she ran her fingers over his defined biceps and his forearms dusted with dark hair. Damn, she could look at him forever.
And it wasn’t just because he was attractive. In her world, attractive men were a dime a dozen. It wasn’t just that he was big, or strong, or symmetrical. But when she was alone with him, she was alone with him. He had such a masculine presence. Even when they were in a room full of people, she was in tune with his every movement. As though they were connected on some strange level.
Which made the memories she knew she was missing all the more painful. She didn’t want to forget anything about this man. This man who was willing to put up with all of her drama and danger. This man who looked at her the exact same way she looked at him: as if nothing else mattered as long as they were together.
Because if she was going to be obsessed with someone, it might as well be someone who was obsessed with her too.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, not able to say enough how bad she felt for everything she’d brought to his doorstep.
He finally moved, reaching up to cup her face and angle her until she met his hot gaze. “Your magic doesn’t work on me.”
“I’m aware.”
“And if I wanted to walk out the door”—he frowned, as though remembering they were at his place—“if I wanted to kick you out, you couldn’t stop me.”
“I know.”
“So the only thing you should be apologizing for is the fact that we’re not naked yet.”
She bit her lip at the promise of what was to come and reached for h
is belt. No matter what he said, she wasn’t going to feel good about the risky situations she was putting him in any time soon. But she could get him naked, so that was what she was going to focus on.
It only took a few seconds for her to undo his belt, and he pulled the undershirt off. It was less than a second later that Derek got to work on her. He slid his hands under the hem of her shirt. His fingertips grazed over the curve of her spine, taking a second to appreciate the feel of her skin and send goose bumps over her arms before he tugged at her shirt. She obligingly lifted her arms, and a moment later, the shirt was over her head and falling on the sink.
The second the shirt was off, the chill of the apartment got to her and she was in a much bigger rush to get under the warm water. She tugged off her boots, and as she bent over, Derek’s hand ran over the curve of her ass. When she stood, he pulled her back against him and suddenly she wasn’t cold anymore. She sucked in a breath as she felt the heat of his chest seep into her back and the hard bulge of his erection pressed against the thin material of her leggings. “Still not naked,” he whispered into her ear as his hand snaked around her and flattened against her stomach, pushing her against him.
Her eyes drifted shut as she let herself become enveloped in Derek. “I’m working on it,” she breathed, not even sure he could hear her. But as his hand moved lower, she guessed he didn’t care. His long fingers slipped under the waistband of her pants and into her panties.
She bit at her lip as he bent closer, his breath brushing her ear before his lips pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder.
And then his fingers slid into her wet folds just far enough to hit that little bundle of nerves that had her rubbing back against him. The friction must’ve gotten to him, because he groaned into her ear as he gave her shoulder a little nip and went to work in earnest. He seemed to play her body, looking for the ways to make her moan and jump and writhe against him. And when he moved his hand, pressing some fingers deep inside, all she could do was wish he was pushing into her with something else.
But then he was pressing the palm of his hand against her clit while his fingers were still inside and the orgasm hit her. She tensed up and she grabbed at his forearm, her nails biting into him as she held on tight, letting her head fall back against him.
She stayed there motionless for a moment before he pressed another kiss to her shoulder and said, “Let’s get in the shower.”
Shower? She almost forgot what they were doing there. She was still in an erotic trance as she slid her pants and panties down in one smooth motion and followed Derek into the bathtub shower combination. He immediately put his head under the spray and rinsed out his eyes.
Sam was forced to come down to earth a bit and realized what just happened. “Don’t tell me you just did that while you’re still hurting.” She didn’t want to sound naggy when she still wanted to get laid, but Derek really needed a better sense of self-preservation.
He turned around so he faced her and the spray bounced off the back of his head. “I knew what I was doing.” He winked. “Trust me, I have my priorities in order.”
She pushed at his chest, hard enough to know that she didn’t see the humor in the situation, but light enough so he wouldn’t fall over. But as soon as she touched that hard chest, his hand shot out and caught her wrist. Before she could pull it away, he tugged her against him while turning so he could press her against the cold tile wall. She sucked in a breath at the shock, but then Derek’s entire length leaned against her, her breasts against his chest and his cock against her stomach. Cold? What cold?
“Getting to touch you is always going to be my number-one priority,” he growled before he captured her mouth with his.
Well, what was a girl supposed to say to that? So she didn’t say anything. Her arms went around his shoulders and she held him as tightly as possible as he devoured her. His tongue pressed against hers even as his cock rubbed against her stomach, each making it obvious what he wanted to be doing to her.
She raised a leg and wrapped it around his waist. She didn’t want to wait anymore. She was ready and wet in more ways than one, and she wanted him inside her now.
He gripped the back of her thighs, and in one smooth motion, he lifted her up and pinned her against the wall with his body at the perfect height for his cock to press right at her entrance.
The logical part of her mind was terrified that they would slip, considering the precarious position they were in. But then he pushed inside and logical thoughts didn’t exist anymore.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and met him thrust for thrust as the warm water cocooned them. Right when she was about to go over the edge again, Derek kissed her, taking her body and soul in that moment, and the entire world seemed to fracture as she came.
At the same time, he nipped at her bottom lip before his own orgasm hit, and he groaned against her as he gripped her impossibly tighter.
It was only in the quiet moment as they both caught their breath that Sam remembered that they couldn’t just go to sleep and lose themselves in each other. It was nice to have this distraction, but tonight had proved that despite what they thought, the darkness was closer than ever.
Sam squeezed her eyes shut and ran her hands up and down Derek’s back. Maybe she could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist for a few minutes longer.
Claire tossed the blanket in the air and watched it gracefully fall back onto the bed, almost completely smooth except for one frustrating crease in the center. Damn it. There had to be a magical way to get this looking perfect.
But before she could fix it, there was a knock on the door and she ran out of the back bedroom of Dante’s apartment to the door.
He was already there and pulling it open. Detective Parker stood there and Claire had to hide her shock. She’d known Angela was coming over and she’d gotten the quick rundown of what had happened, but seeing the officer who had seemed so self-composed and capable standing there in her shorts, tank top, and an over-the-shoulder bag hit her.
Because Claire had run away from home once too, she knew why Parker was dressed so badly for the cool night. She’d been too afraid to change her clothes in her apartment.
“Come on in.” Dante stepped aside.
“Thanks.” Angela came inside just a few feet before she stopped again. Every muscle in her body was tense, and Claire was sure being in the strange apartment wasn’t helping. She tried to think of what she could say or do to make the other woman feel at home, but hosting houseguests wasn’t really her specialty.
Luckily, she was dating a man a thousand times more charming than she was. “Let me show you around.” Dante led the way farther into the apartment. Dante was a man of style, so his penthouse apartment was a thing of beauty. To afford the rent, he shared it with two other women, Lacey and Lindsey, but when they found out Angela would be coming over, Dante asked the roommates to leave for their own safety.
When Derek had texted Dante, Claire had been a bit insulted. Why would he be the first person on speed dial? Claire was the strongest one. Hell, according to everything she’d learned, she might be the most dangerous witch alive at the moment.
But then she realized why Dante was the number-one choice. Angela Parker had very little experience with witches. And between Dante and Claire, Angela had saved Dante and seen Claire kill someone. So Derek must’ve thought that Angela wouldn’t feel safe around Claire.
Which meant that not only did witches fear her, but now the cops were afraid of her too.
She tried to not be completely self-centered and focus on the fact that Angela had been attacked.
“We set you up in this room.” Dante led Angela to the room that Claire had been tidying up. “Claire and I are going to be right on the other side of this wall, so if anything followed you here, we’ll know.”
Angela shuddered and ran her hands over her arms. “Do you really think it could’ve followed me here?”
“No,” said Claire quickly, giving Derek
a little chiding look for scaring her. “But we want to be better safe than sorry.”
Angela didn’t look comforted at all as she set her bag down on the bed. It was obviously a woman’s room. The walls were a soft gray and there were pink accents in the comforter and the silky curtains. Her eyes bounced around the room, neither approving nor disapproving. Claire wondered whether cops saw everything in the world different from normal people.
Though she supposed in no way, shape, or form could she be considered a normal person.
“Have you talked to Derek?” she asked suddenly.
“He texted us that you were coming,” said Claire slowly, wondering whether Angela hurt her head in the struggle.
Angela rolled her eyes, obviously not amused. “No, I mean on the phone. He seemed weird when I talked to him. And I’m very happy that you are helping me, but I kind of expected to be at his place tonight.” She glanced around the room once more. “Though I’m thinking this is a step up….”
Dante smiled at the compliment, but Claire was caught up by what Angela said. She had a point. Derek wasn’t the type to delegate possibly dangerous tasks. Not if he could avoid it or if he thought there was something more dangerous that they didn’t know about. “I’m sure everything is fine,” she lied.
“You’re probably right,” said Angela, obviously not believing a word. But neither woman knew anything for sure, so they said quick goodnights before Claire and Dante retreated to give the woman some time alone.
“What do you think?” asked Claire softly when she and Dante reached his bedroom.
Dante’s room was more masculine by far. It was all-black furniture and green accents. She figured the green could be a bit much for people, but she kind of liked it. It was very Dante. She had to fight off the sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair. Even though he was her boyfriend and she could kind of touch him whenever she wanted, she was still trying to come off as a relatively normal person. Not that it was really possible at this point….
A Little Wicked (The Bewitching Hour Book 4) Page 5