Her head rested on my shoulder, as if my story had lulled her near sleep. Her hand rested over my hand, my arm still wrapped around her waist, drawing her against me. It was an intimate pose for how little we knew each other, but I had just given her my sweetest memory. It was something I could never tell someone in words—it was more a picture, a feeling, than a story—and it wasn’t something I’d ever tried to share before.
I didn’t know why I’d just shown all that to her. It made me want to pull away, but there was nowhere to go; the wall pressed against my back, and her lithe, curvy body pressed against my chest and hips.
Heels clicked down the stairs. She stiffened in my arms. I shook my head slightly, feeling my jaw brush across her hair. She nodded, as if she understood what I was trying to say, but I could still feel her heart speeding up, out of her control.
I ran my hand gently up and down her hip, trying to soothe her. She leaned back into my touch. Her stiff shoulders sank just slightly.
The heels clicked across the room. Through the slats, I glimpsed a woman in heels and a dress, her soft blond hair falling in waves across the shoulders of her blazer. She looked around the lab and then headed back up the stairs. She must have realized something was wrong, but she didn’t know what it was exactly.
She didn’t look terrifying, but I could feel Fiona’s heart hammering.
The door at the top of the stairs clicked shut. We had to wait until it was clear, but it felt like Fiona was on the verge of losing it.
I caressed her hip, making slow circles, hoping to calm her down. I would have rubbed her shoulders, but we were pinned in here so tightly. Her fingers fell against my forearm, and for a second, I thought she was trying to stop me. I froze, pulling my hand away from her.
She pressed my hand against her short black skirt.
Oh.
Well, I’d never deny a lady. Especially not this one, who intrigued me with the way she was so sweet and so brazen all at once, so tough and determined and so vulnerable. I’d give Hayes and Case shit all day for how ridiculous they were, talking about her like they loved her when they haven’t seen her in nine years. Yet I had to admit, there was something about her that pulled me in, too.
I stroked my hand down her skirt until my fingertips brushed bare skin. Her back arched, barely; I might not have noticed if our bodies weren’t locked together. Her shoulders pressing into my chest told me that I read her intent right.
I brushed my fingertips over her thigh, up underneath her skirt, and felt the soft give of her breath.
When we’d had this moment, would she still lie to me that her name was Melody?
Did I even give a fuck right now?
6
Fiona
Nicolai’s touch on my thigh was firm and sure. He was driving me crazy with his hand on my hip, caressing me gently in a way that felt like it shouldn’t be sexual at all, like he was just trying to be a nice guy and comfort me. His thumb kept brushing over my hip bone, low enough to remind my clit of how recently it had been left throbbing and wet.
I couldn’t see him in the darkness, although I could smell his cologne or aftershave—something dark and masculine—and the faintest scent of clean, white bar soap, too. With his broad shoulders, powerful biceps, and the beard, he had seemed intimidating when I saw him in the bar. The kind of guy that turned you on while you simultaneously hoped you wouldn’t meet him in a dark alley. Or a dark closet. And yet, when he showed me his father’s tender side, he showed me his own tender side, too.
When his fingers stroked up my thigh, sparks flew. His fingers grazed between my thighs. I bit down on my lower lip as his fingers drifted back down my leg. That hard-muscled forearm tightened across my abs as my hips pushed up, longing for his fingers to return. His touch teased me, and as I reached down and took his hand in mine, pulling it back to the pushed-up hem of my dress. His breath caught in his chest. He wanted this, too.
I relaxed in his arms, nuzzling his beard with my lips. He smelled delicious up close, a faint scent of sandalwood clinging to his groomed beard. I traced the line between his smooth cheek and beard with my lips on my way to his ear. I wasn’t brushing my lips against his ear because I wanted to tell him my secrets though. Not yet. Maybe someday. Instead, I ran my tongue along the line of his ear. When my teeth sank into his earlobe, I felt him grin.
In retaliation, he drew the skirt of my dress all the way up. His thumb brushed over my mound, and even that made my shoulders arch against his chest. As he slid into my panties, I picked my head up in need and then let it fall against the crisp, cool dress shirt he wore.
His powerful fingers found my clit. As his fingers worked in rhythmic circles, I sank into him and let him bear my weight. His fingers circled my core, and I held back a moan, longing for more. His thumb glided over my clit, and as his first two fingers pulsed into me, his thumb stroked my clit over and over until it felt swollen with heat and desire. Every time he pumped into me, he seemed to find my g-spot.
My knees went weak and my legs locked. I felt him lean back slightly, welcoming my weight as my legs shook. As my abs trembled with the power of my growing orgasm, he didn’t stop. His fingers pulsed again, hitting that spot, and his thumb worked. The heat grew to a crescendo that was painful and welcome all at once. I turned my face into his neck as the orgasm reached its shattering climax, and because I couldn’t cry out, I sank my teeth into his neck to silence myself instead. I heard him make a low noise, and I couldn’t tell if it was pain or desire or both.
I came back to my senses, with his skin folded between my teeth and his strong arms still bearing me up, silently and stoically. I reached up and patted his other cheek apologetically, releasing his throat and pressing a quick kiss to the spot I’d just bruised. Kisses made everything better, right?
He whispered into my ear, “I think it’s safe to go.”
“I think it was safe five minutes ago,” I whispered back.
In the dim light, I barely saw the way he touched his finger to his lips, or the mischievous sheen in those dark eyes. But I grinned in response.
The two of us slipped through the house. I still felt weak-kneed from that orgasm, and I was surprised—but nicely so—when Nick took my hand in his. He walked just in front of me, and his broad shoulders felt protective. Agnes padded behind us, her feet silent when normally her claws would click against the floor.
When we passed the canvas hanging on the wall, Nick turned back. As he whispered, I could see the magic wrapped around his words, like silver smoke gliding between his lips and my ear. This whisper couldn’t be overheard.
“Hayes and Case won’t shut up about the witch’s daughter. Apparently, they both fell in love with her in high school.”
The words struck me hard, but Nick was already turning around, pulling me behind him when I would have stopped dead otherwise. For the first time, I realized I was getting out of the frying pan that was my mother’s house, and into the fire of my lies. How the hell was I going to explain to them why I came in here, without telling them that I was Fiona?
Maybe I should just tell them the truth. They both fell in love with her. God, those words destroyed me and gave me life all at once. What the hell would they think?
When Nick eased the back door open, I held my breath. I couldn’t help but be convinced we were about to be caught.
Instead, the two of us stepped out into the cool, clear night air. Agnes padded out onto the porch, and I closed the door.
Nick glanced down at me and winked. He was still holding my hand. As we crossed the porch then broke into a run, crossing the dew-soaked grass, he kept holding on.
7
Case
“Look.” Hayes nudged me.
I’d been working the case as I sat in the passenger seat of the car, waiting for Fiona to come back out. I’d wanted to go in after her when the bitch-witch arrived, but Nick convinced us that discretion was the better part of valor. With his magic, he could follow Fiona in and mak
e sure she was safe, get her out and away from her mother.
But I didn’t like discretion much. Not when Fi was in danger.
When I looked up, I was relieved to see Fiona running across the lawn toward us. Her short black skirt was blown around her thighs, and her reddish-blonde hair was wild around her face. She looked adorable.
She was also holding Nick’s hand.
I straightened slightly, folding the laptop lid down. “What is happening there?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Hayes said. “We always said, if we got a second chance, we’d share her.”
“We’d share her,” I said, gesturing between Hayes and me. “The two hopeless idiots who fell for the same girl.”
“Nick’s like a brother now.”
“That doesn’t help,” I growled. I shook my head. “I’m sure he just grabbed her hand to help her walk.”
So help me God, if he fucked around with her and didn’t care about her and hurt her, I would tear him apart. It didn’t matter how much we’d been through together.
“To help her walk,” Hayes repeated, his voice lazy and languid. He didn’t have to call attention to how ridiculous that was. I already knew I’d said something goddamn stupid.
“You going to start the car so we can get out of here?” I asked.
“No,” Hayes said. When he got out of the car, I cursed and got out too.
Fiona came to a stop by the hood. Her breasts heaved in that skimpy dress, and she pressed one of her hands across her chest. Nick rested his hand on her shoulder, comforting her as she tried to catch her breath. My cock throbbed just looking at her. I wanted to shove Nick into the bushes and wrap Fiona in my arms. I took a deep breath and realized for the first time how tight my chest had felt when she was in danger.
“There’s a drug lab in the basement.” Nick reached into his jacket pocket, and when he extended his hand, it looked like it was empty until I saw a small purple pill. “I wonder where else she’s manufacturing this stuff.”
“We’ll follow her and find out,” Hayes said. “We can take turns on the stake-out.”
His eyes swiveled to me. His expression was fixedly neutral, which meant Hayes was up to something.
“Nick and I will take first watch,” Hayes said. “You take her back to her house, make sure she’s safe. I worry the witch will track her down.”
“I can take care of myself,” Fiona said stiffly.
“No doubt,” Hayes said. “But humor me. Otherwise I’ll worry about you the whole time.”
“Why the hell would you worry about me?” Fiona met his eyes, and there was cool challenge in them. There was still a hitch to her chest as if she couldn’t quite calm down.
Hayes took a step toward her, into her personal space, and slid a finger under her chin. He tilted her face up to his, looking into her eyes just as intently, although his expression wasn’t challenging like hers. It was fond.
“Why the hell do you think?” he asked, and then he pressed his lips to hers.
I glanced away. Fucking her together was one thing—a great thing—but this kiss was intimate.
I couldn’t get away from the sounds though. She gasped as his lips meet hers. Her hands went to his shoulders as she kissed him back. I turned away, heading back toward her truck.
Nick followed me. “Take care of her.”
I met his eyes over the hood. “What’s going on with you, Nick?”
He hesitated. Then he shrugged those massive shoulders. “I like her.”
“You like her,” I repeated. “You met her tonight.”
“I know. I didn’t say I fucking love her, I’ll still be obsessing over her ten years from now.” His voice was low enough not to carry back to Fiona and Hayes in the midst of their distracting make-out session. “But I like her.”
“All right,” I said. “Then let’s keep her alive.”
An hour later, Fiona turned the wheel hard right, and I bounced against the seatbelt. The truck jounced over rough gravel.
“Welcome to my home.” As she put the car into park, headlights illuminated a small house; it looked run-down and homey at once, sheltered by wild-growing honeysuckle and lilac bushes.
Agnes leaned over my shoulder and licked my cheek. I leaned away, but I couldn’t help grinning. The dog remembered me. Even though she, like her owner, was wearing a new skin. It was strange to pretend.
“What’s the dog’s name?” As soon as I asked, I regretted it. Fiona wouldn’t tell me the truth, and I hated for her to lie to me.
Fiona threw her car door open, twisting in her seat, and I had a funny feeling she was happy she didn’t have to meet my eyes. “I didn’t name her.”
My lips lifted slightly. Yeah, that was true; Agnes was Agnes long before either of us was born.
When Fiona unlocked her front door, I slipped my 9mm out of the shoulder holster under my jacket. She glanced up at me, her eyes widening at the sight of the gun.
“Is that necessary?” she asked.
“I’m here to make sure you’re safe,” I said gruffly. Although that was not the only reason I wanted to be here. Fi was pretending to be someone else. And yet, things felt natural and easy between us.
Except for the lie, that was. The lie shimmered like a tension in the air, forcing me to keep pretending that I saw that fake-perfect face she wore.
Fi’d always been perfect for me just the way she was. The scar that was vivid across her face now didn’t change that. Her blue eyes were bright in contrast to the red that washed across her jaw and one cheek. A finger-width scar ran all the way up to the side of her eye, where the edge of her eyebrow had been lost to the strawberry-colored mark.
She stared up at me like she saw something in how I looked at her. There was something about her parted lips and wide eyes that made me feel far more than I should.
I shouldered the front door wide open and went in quickly, clearing the living room. I went room to room, making sure her small house was safe. The kitchen was tucked behind the living room, and down the small hall was a bedroom and a bathroom. Her bedroom was painted gray. Big silver-framed photos of flowers hung over her bed. It was because of the flowers that I realized there were no other photos; there wasn’t a single photo of her old face or her new one. There was a pile of paperbacks on her bedside table and a dent in the lilac-colored duvet, even though she’d obviously made her bed this morning; Agnes slept here. I pulled open her nightstand drawer, curious, letting the gun drop to my side. I didn’t see condoms.
Deeply devoted to her dog and to reading romance novels. No sign of a lover. But I was willing to bet she wanted one. Or two or three.
By the time I came back to the living room, holstering my weapon, she was busy at the stove. “Enjoy your tour?” she asked, her voice cheeky.
“I’d like a closer tour of your bedroom.” My voice came out husky. She looked up at me, and I added, “I’m exhausted.”
Her shoulders relaxed just slightly. This girl was so tense. She shouldn’t be nervous around me.
“Are you hungry? I thought I’d just make something real quick. Some bacon and eggs. I never had dinner after leaving work…”
“It’s four in the morning.”
“I keep strange hours.”
I leaned against the wall in the kitchen. “And strange company. Yeah, I could eat.”
Her face colored, although the blush only touched one cheek. “I don’t normally… act like that. Like earlier tonight.”
“No? What was special this time?”
I should stop pushing. But part of me wanted to know what was really going on in her head.
She shook her head.
“So why did you go into that witch’s house?” I asked.
“Oh.” Her lips parted in surprise. She waited to turn her back to me before she rattled off her lie. “I’ve met her before. She wanted to sell drugs through my bar. Like you guys noticed, I know a lot of people. It’s the perfect supply hub for supernatural drugs. I told her no, but
she made me nervous, so I learned everything I could about her. That’s why I knew where her house was.”
I closed the distance between us, resting my hands on the edge of the counter to either side of her body. I felt her stiffen, but despite herself, her ass pressed back against my hips, as if she was seeking evidence of my desire for her.
“Why would you do something stupid like go after her instead of talking to us?”
“This is my town,” she said briskly, although the assured tone she used didn’t fit with the way her heart was hammering in her chest. “You two always move on, don’t you?”
I cocked my head to one side. “Two?”
She snapped the knob for the stove, shutting down the burner. Then she twisted around in my arms, quick and lithe, and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“The two of you that I got to know so well earlier,” she said.
She was so quick on her feet that I could almost believe her.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why’d you turn off the stove?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?” she countered, right before she bobbed up on her toes and pressed her lips against mine.
It was a sneak-kiss, so quickly did she jump up, but I was always ready when it came to her. I wrapped my arm around her lower back, holding her tightly to me, and kissed her back.
The two of us stumbled through her house, trading kisses. Her hands trailed up my abs, sliding under my shirt. She paused, frowning, and ran one finger over the ridges of my abs. I raised an eyebrow again.
“That is incredible,” she said, and I had to grin.
“Do you really think so?” There in the hallway outside her bedroom, I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. Then I was topless in front of her. I knew what she saw. My broad shoulders, chest and arms were covered in tattoos—runes that helped protect me from the bad things we hunted. The width of my pecs gave way to a narrow waist, defined abs. In my job, if you didn’t work out, you might just get eaten by a Werewolf. It was good motivation to stick to your New Year’s resolutions.
Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection Page 137