Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III)

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Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III) Page 5

by Stewart, Lauren


  “It’s nothing.”

  Even though his experience with actually caring about anyone was limited, Mitch knew a couple of things. And one of those things was that there are a few situations in which a man has every right in the world to call ‘bullshit’ on what his woman says.

  ‘I’m fat.’ Definitely high up on the list.

  ‘You don’t have to get me anything.’ Equally high, regardless of the holiday.

  But the big daddy of them all, the one sentence that’s a guaranteed lie and, if the man wants to keep her, he must ignore:

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  And there it was. Coming from a woman who didn’t lie. From his woman. Who’d told him every awful thing Hyde said to her the first night she saw him. Who knew what it felt like to be lied to, how raw it left you, how filled with distrust and doubt.

  So whatever happened in the last eight days had to be beyond what he could imagine. And it was his fault.

  “What did he do to you?” He pulled back, ashamed of what he’d allowed Hyde to do, whatever it had been. Everything was a blur behind Hyde’s walls, and Mitch didn’t know what was real, what was fantasy, or how much of the message coming in was skewed by evil’s perceptions.

  Tears brimmed. “It’s not what he did to me.”

  The emphasis was subtle, and if he hadn’t been straining so hard to pay attention to every move she made, every word she uttered, afraid he wouldn’t be there to see them for too much longer, he wouldn’t have noticed. But he did.

  ‘He’ and ‘me’. Two little words changed the temperature of the room, the density of the air. A thought bloomed in his mind, an unpleasant I-don’t-want-to-believe-it thought.

  “I won’t blame you if you beat the shit out of him. Repeatedly.” He knew there was desperation in his voice, hope that she’d simply tortured the bastard. That’d be okay.

  “I didn’t.”

  With another two words, the air was drawn from his lungs, leaving him unable to take in more.

  “What did you do to him?” He knew. He’d been told by the little voice in his head that pumped out paranoia and enjoyed his anguish. He’d been told, but he needed her to tell him. Because she was the only thing he trusted, beyond the little voice, beyond himself.

  He trusted her. Funny, that. Ironic.

  She looked away, a blush coating her cheeks and chest, a quiver in her jaw.

  He shouldn’t blame her. He shouldn’t. There were a handful of people he could blame for the last fifteen years of his pathetic life. His name was at the very top of the pile. Hers was nowhere near it.

  He’d been gone, probably never to return. She’d been confused, maybe looking for comfort. Not that he’d ever imagine her going to Hyde for comfort, but in a sick sort of way, it made sense. He and Hyde shared the same body—was it so terrible to share the same woman?

  Yes. Yes, it was. Because Mitch didn’t share well. And he would never, ever share her.

  “Tell me what you did.” He stepped back, needing the space for all of his rage. Because it was just about to burst out of his chest.

  “It was nothing.”

  Thankfully, he flinched backwards because if he hadn’t, he’d have even more to regret. His ass hit the wall, stopping his retreat. “Ooooh, babe.” He whistled through clenched teeth. “You’ve got about zero chance of me believing that.”

  “It was something. Something I regret.” Her voice was frail, as if one misplaced word would break her. “But I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “Okay, no sleeping.” He took a deep breath, knowing he had no right to feel wronged—after all, he was supposed to be dead. But he was unable to stop feeling it, quaking from it. “What did you do?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Really? Well, that’s too bad ‘cause I do and we will.” Anger clawed at him, frustration close at its heels. He needed to know. Everything. So he could start thinking clearly. Stop imagining her head tilted back in ecstasy. Get rid of the high-resolution picture in his mind of her face as she came. As Hyde made her come.

  Goddamn it, he wanted it gone. He ran his hands through his hair, yanking as if he could pull the images out by their roots.

  “Do you really need to know?” She looked at him. “Really need to hear about it? Can’t you just believe me? I didn’t have sex with him.”

  Could he? He paused, determined to say the right thing so she would understand without having the shit scared out of her. “Okay, you didn’t have sex with him. But since there are so many other things leading up to that, I need to know more. From your mouth.” He was chewing on his lip so hard again, he tasted metal—like an iron bar was holding him back.

  “The thing is…even if I believe you, part of my mind is a bit of a trickster and thinks it’s funny to mess with me. It sets up little doubts to nibble on my ear and put unfunny thoughts in my head about all the things you don’t say. And if those doubts have a chance to take root, no amount of trust will loosen them.

  “So you tell me exactly what happened,” he continued. “Everything. And then we can move on.” He bit his upper lip so it didn’t lift into a snarl.

  Jealousy was new to him. Probably because he’d never cared about anything that could be taken away. But now he did. And it bit the big one. All the times he told people to suck it up and deal with it, to not care, were instantly bullshit. Because jealousy had reared its ugly head and was enjoying the view from Mitch’s shoulder. And unless she started talking, its mouth would be the only one smiling.

  “Fine,” she said. “I thought he would give me information about you, so I teased him.”

  Teasing isn’t too bad. He could deal with teasing. “He was strapped down, I hope.”

  She nodded.

  So his ability to touch her was limited. But not impossible. “How did you tease him?”

  She shrugged.

  “How did you tease him?” he snapped. He hated having to ask, to drag it out of her. Because it made him think she was holding back, only answering the questions he asked and offering nothing more. And if he asked the wrong question, she would leave something out. And it would start to rot. It would stay between them and grow until it reached them both. And then it would eat away at them, at their love, until there was nothing left for it to consume.

  She squirmed under his stare. “I took off my clothes…and I touched him.”

  Mitch’s stomach flipped, his mind imagining her stripping for Hyde, for anyone. “Show me.” That way he’d know. He’d know exactly what she did and not have paranoid delusions dancing through his mind.

  Her head popped up, her brow furrowed. “No. It’s not like I did it for fun.”

  But she did it. Why? “Did you kiss him?”

  “No. I didn’t want to do any of it.”

  It was like a nightmare set on repeat—she didn’t want to, but Hyde was strapped down. She had a choice, but she did it anyway.

  She touched him, teased him, traded her body in. For what?

  “Why? Why would you give yourself away like that?” He wasn’t screaming, but she scooted farther back on the counter as if he were.

  “Because I needed to know if you were still inside of him. And being with him was the only way I could find out.”

  No fucking way.

  Chapter V

  Impossible. She’d traded herself in for him. Exactly what Mitch didn’t want to happen, why he should be dead right now. But he wasn’t. Right now he was standing in front of the only person the world had ever given him to love, and all he could think about was someone else taking her.

  The need to claim her, erase Hyde’s touch, take his darkness off her skin was overwhelming. When Mitch took a step towards her, she jerked back, her head smacking the mirror behind her.

  “Mitch?”

  He moved in quickly, scooping her up into his arms, and carried her out of the bathroom. He headed straight for the closest room and threw her onto the futon, grabbing her ankles before she could scrambl
e away.

  “Mitch, stop!”

  He couldn’t. There was no way to stop it. No way to undo what had been done.

  Blinded by the idea, he needed to know exactly what she’d done with Hyde, so that he could do the same thing. And then more. So that he could take her in a way no one else ever could. Wipe away the stain and the scars the bastard had left her with. Make everything she’d done with him disappear, leaving only Mitch’s touch, his scent, his lips behind.

  “Mitch!” She looked confused as she kicked her legs, but he held them firmly.

  She could be as confused as she wanted to. Right now, he didn’t give a shit. Until his heart stopped beating, she was his. Only his. That’s what she needed to learn and what he had to prove to her.

  He ran his hands up her legs, pulling her pants down and tearing her panties off with them. Anger flashed in her eyes before being overrun by heat.

  Did she wear the same look when she was with Hyde?

  No. Please, no. “Did you want him? Even a little bit?”

  “No,” she spat. “I only did it because I needed to know if you were still inside him. Why can’t you believe me?”

  His towel came off as he climbed on the futon and dug his fingers into her thighs, forcing them apart. He leaned over her until his hips held her legs open, but no further.

  “Then you touched him.” He brushed his fingers against her core, first lightly, then with more pressure, feeling how ready she was. When she arched her hips up, he wondered if she even noticed she’d done it. He could see she was fighting herself. Just like he was but for different reasons.

  He kept his cock away from her. He would have her when he was ready to have her. Not before. Not when she wanted him. Not until he knew everything there was to know.

  “Did you touch his cock?”

  Her brow tightened with the memory. “Just for a second. But it was too weird. Too…wrong.”

  “Because he wasn’t me.”

  “Yes.” Her breath was quick, her breasts lifting towards him. He yanked her shirt over her head and pulled the cups of her bra down.

  “Did he do this?” He ran his teeth across her collarbone, tasting her, imagining other lips doing the same.

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” She gasped when he took her nipple into his mouth, not playfully or seductively. Hard. He stopped as soon as he heard her moan, felt her arch her back in need, her hands in his hair. He slipped his fingers between hers and pinned both her hands to the bed. She writhed underneath him, bending her knees, and curling her hips towards his.

  Not yet. “Did he put his mouth on you? Any part of you?” Then he kissed her. With everything he was.

  “Never,” she groaned as their lips separated briefly. “Because he’s not you.”

  “Promise me, Eden,” he begged. “Promise me that’s all. And that it’s the truth.”

  “I promise. I swear. I stopped because I knew it was wrong. I couldn’t go through with it. I’m sorry I couldn’t…for you.”

  He covered her mouth with his fingers to stop her lips from trembling. “No.” He traced her lip with his thumb. “You can’t be sorry. I don’t want you to trade yourself in for me. Not to him, not to anyone. Understand?” He shouldn’t have left her. He should’ve been strong enough to find a way back.

  “All I wanted was for you to come back to me.”

  “I’m here.” His doubt erased, his desire for her multiplied, his guilt almost more than he could bear, he forced himself away from her. It was their first time together post-hell and he was acting like he had a right to this. To her.

  What the fuck was he thinking? “I have no right to take—”

  “Yes. Whatever it is. Yes. Take it.”

  “I need to be inside of you.”

  “Yes.” She wrapped her legs around him and pulled the tip of his cock into her incredible warmth.

  “Wai—”

  He groaned, she moaned, and noooobody moved. One breath. Then another. Then her legs tightened around him.

  “Stop. Eden, stop. Now.” He reached over to the box of condoms that was still on the nightstand from the last time they were here. But in doing so, he slid a fraction more into her. Motherfucker. She felt amazing, and it took everything he had not to drive himself all the way in.

  If there were no condoms in that box, he was going to hurt someone. Badly. Thank-whoever-was-listening that there were a few left. Maybe not enough, but he’d worry about it later.

  Pulling out of her was impossibly hard because he was impossibly hard. But even his cock knew protection was non-negotiable.

  “Mitch, you don’t need—”

  “Believe me, I need. Badly. So unless you really mean it, don’t tell me to stop and don’t tell me to slow down. Because that time is gone.” As soon as his bases were covered, he lowered himself onto her, covering her body with his.

  Damn it, he wanted in. But not yet. “Look at me, Eden.” He was impatient the whole two seconds it took her to do it. “You need to be clear on something. No one else touches you and you don’t touch anyone else. Do you understand me? As long as I am breathing—in whatever form—it doesn’t happen.” He paused. “Do you understand me?”

  Her nod was immediate. “I understand.”

  “Ever.” And then, in one fluid motion, he was inside her—his tongue, his cock, his heart. All inside of her. Where no other man or beast would ever be. Knowing he’d die a second time to make sure no one would ever touch her again.

  §§§

  There was no chance Eden could hold her emotions back. With him, she felt everything. She handed herself over to him—to scorn or to accept. To hate or care for. He was the only one who could take away the chill that seemed to always surround her, an arctic wind that she could never escape.

  But Mitch kept her warm, inside and out. She trusted him with her everything. Everything. No one else. She’d do anything to keep him. But she would keep her promise. So that both of them could live. Do more than just breathe or hate or drown in anger and betrayal.

  An hour ago, the strand of hope she so desperately clung to was so thin, she’d felt herself lose her grip. But it strengthened and was made thicker every moment he was inside her. Ever deeper, ever more powerful.

  She’d missed him so much. She’d missed this so much. Even thinking about being with someone else was wrong. Because no one fit her as well as Mitch did. No one could possibly make her feel this close to perfection, give her so much of himself, even when he was angry. Even when he had every right to be angry.

  He held her down—pinning her hands to the bed and pressing her deep into the mattress with every thrust. And she’d never felt more free.

  “You feel incredible. I don’t…” Giving up on what he was about to say, he took her mouth again. He was unrelenting, demanding she open herself up to him. She would. She’d give him anything she had, no matter how he asked or what he demanded.

  Her heart pounded to the rhythm set by his hips. Each stroke bringing a spike of pleasure, almost painful in its intensity. But she wanted more, needed more. And he gave. Until the sensations overwhelmed her and she couldn’t control it anymore. As she came, she cried out, his name tucked in between less important words.

  He slowed down and wiped the hair out of her eyes, kissed her forehead. The tenderness of the movement caught her off-guard and she laughed. Just like she’d planned to. Because he was back. And he was hers.

  “Wanna tell me what’s funny before I get a complex?” he asked breathlessly.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist tighter. “Don’t stop.”

  “Oh, I have no intention of stopping.” He slammed into her. “I just wanted to know what the laugh was about.”

  Her body was already gearing up for the next round, tightening each time he pushed inside her. She swallowed, trying to focus on speech and not sensation. How was he doing it? “I’m happy. I’m really, really happy.”

  �
��Let’s keep you that way, shall we?” He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her again. Sliding his other arm under her back, her lifted them both up, changing the angle of their bodies, thrusting deeper, proving how much pleasure he could give her, how much she needed him.

  “Come with me, Eden.” His voice and those words were enough to topple her. A bolt of electricity went through her and then hit him. She dug her fingers into the sheets, his ass, whatever she could reach.

  Because she had to hold on. So she would never lose him again.

  Chapter VI

  “I can’t risk losing my job, man,” Joe said. “Maybe if you spoke to the Chief directly.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” After a quick thanks-and-see-ya, Landon walked away from the meeting with nothing new except a cup of overpriced, bitter coffee. So once again, one of his hands was empty and the other had something useless in it. He dumped the coffee.

  Joe had to look out for his family, and the Chief was threatening to fire anyone he even suspected of leaking anything. So Landon couldn’t blame the guy—if he had a family, he’d be careful too.

  As it stood, the only people relying on him were a half-human, totally obstinate woman and the monster who’d finally turned back into his best friend. Were they family? Yeah, they were.

  He pictured the Christmas card they could send out this year. He and Eden standing in front of the cage smiling uncomfortably, with Hyde growling at the camera through the bars. Nice. Unless he could figure out a way to make sure Turner stayed Turner. Then the Christmas pic could be of the two of them, their arms wrapped tightly around each other with him two feet away, his arms wrapped around nothing.

  Equally as nice.

  Equally as painful.

  It wasn’t that Landon resented their happiness. He was thrilled to have the asshole back and would do almost anything to make sure he and Eden had a chance to be happy. But seeing them together was bittersweet, leaving him with the dull ache of envy. A reminder of what he didn’t have. Not since his ability to love died when his love did.

 

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