The past wouldn’t change, and today proved her damned sexual attraction to this man wouldn’t either. Neither mattered though, not compared to the importance of reclaiming the ring. It was what Fallon had been telling her today, and the message at last had made it through. “I was there on Guild business. A situation has developed, and we need your help. I want you to work with me on an assignment.”
Not Happy was an understatement if his darkening countenance was anything to go by. Esh’s fingers stretched wide before curling in a loose fist and with measured movements he stepped away from the wall, began circling her little apartment. “Five years not a word, but once I’m a useful thug, all is set aside and you’ll bother with me again? Did you bring a leash as well?” He was still walking, still too calm.
The flinch that struck her body hit hard, as hard as if he’d laid hands on her. That tiny piece of guilt she’d pushed far back in her emotions wiggled free now, reveling in its moment. No matter the justification for leaving or the importance of the mission that had driven her to see him again, it was the truth. Before the break-in at headquarters and her subsequent assignment, she…well, she’d always thought about Esh and kept up with his exploits through the grapevine, things not even the anger could get her to stop. But going to see him, approach him? No. Before the break-in, that part of her life had been dead. “If anyone else could be here, I would never have brought this back in your life.”
Esh’s voice was mocking. “But of course, out of all the Guild, you are the only one who could come, and the fact that the woman I loved needs my help isn’t a manipulation to get me to agree.”
Loved broke through her, her body flinching at the past tense. Unbidden, images rushed through her – a first kiss when it had been pouring rain, Esh’s mouth so soft on hers when nothing else of him could ever be described as soft. Looking up from a book only to find his face inches away, and his smile saying he’d been there for some time, only she hadn’t noticed. A ten-year-old boy glaring at a gang of bullies as he stood over a seven-year-old girl, protecting her and making her safe in a way her brother could never quite manage.
She shoved them away, brought her mind to the present. That was over, and only what happened next mattered. “We both know it is, though given our history, I told them not to count on it being an effective one.” She held up her hand to stop the words he began to voice. “No, let’s not go over it again. Let me tell you the job, and we go from there.”
He spun on his heel and went to the kitchen, finding her stash of whiskey in an upper cabinet on the first try. Much as she wanted a drink herself, she said nothing as he belted back a shot. Once done, he licked his lips, and she could almost feel those lips on her neck, traveling downward as his teeth came and nipped along the path.
Nalah turned away before he caught her staring. Not good to give him any ammunition. From behind her, he spoke. “Okay, clear your conscience.”
She did her best to keep any emotion out of her voice. “The Guild has discovered Beylor has purchased a very important magical artifact, one the Guild wants to get into our possession. Word is he doesn’t realize what it is or the power it possesses, so the main focus is to get it back before Beylor finds out what it does.”
“The Underground Tour. You want me to get you in,” Esh said, grim humor in his voice.
Grateful she didn’t have to explain further, Nalah fell silent to allow Esh to work it out in his own head. In the underworld of cage fighting, the Underground Tour was legend, the match all fighters dreamed of. Only a few ever made it, and Beylor, the operator of the Tour, was by turns revered and feared by most.
Except Esh didn’t have any interest, though he received an invite for each Tour. I’m not a dog to bark on command. He never trusted it, and as he once told her, he wouldn’t be part of anything where he couldn’t see all the pieces in play. And if anything was shrouded, it was the Tour.
The fact that his continued refusal made him a legend and had people coming from all over to both fight him and see him was an unexpected side effect.
After long moments he spoke again. “Why can’t the Guild show up and force the return?”
She turned to face him. He was still holding the glass, giving it the occasional slow spin so the liquid arced and rolled within the cup. “Too many things are in play. Politics, for one. The Tour draws a lot of important people. Beyond that, Beylor is slippery. The Guild has bits and pieces of information, but they’ve never been able to get enough to pin a location down until after the Tour has moved.”
“No wizards can magically find him? That much power in one place – don’t know how it could be missed.”
“Not that simple. The theory is Beylor operates the Tour in what are known as blackout zones. No magic works in or escapes those areas.”
He cocked his head in question, ready to learn more, like always. While Esh had never read on his own, he’d brought her every book he got his hands on – though how he got them she never asked. And at night, he’d listen for hours as she discussed whatever she’d learned that day. “He protects himself by sticking to areas where magic is useless and he’s surrounded by fighters and warriors. Man’s not stupid.” He drained the glass and set it on the counter before coming to stand in front of her. Anew, desire shaped itself low in her stomach as the scent of sweat and leather and that something that came to be labeled Esh in her mind hit her, but Nalah dug deep and refused to back away. She wouldn’t concede any ground to him. “Why are they sending you, outside of the very important reason they’re hoping you’ll convince me to get you to the Tour? Did you turn into a master thief while you were away? Because if you aren’t, can’t see how you going matters.”
And here it was, the moment she’d been dreading. Laying herself bare in front of the one man she wanted to be shielded from. “Remember when I was a kid and always talked about feeling things? We thought maybe I had some magic in me but I never passed any tests and we decided that wasn’t the case.”
“Yeah, except for that old fortune-teller. She always said you were in contact with the spirit world. I don’t know how the hell anyone took her seriously when she smelled like a bar.” And for one moment he smiled, open and free and emotionally intimate, and it was the three of them again, making a scruff of their neck escape and laughing about it once danger had passed, and the jolt that passed through her chest when Esh turned that smiling gaze to her.
“Well, anyway,” she said, not responding to his smile, breaking the moment, and his face settled back into harsh lines, though he didn’t back away. “I can’t cast magic – I’m not a wizard, that’s true – but I can sense magic, and I can break it. I can unwind it, reverse the spells, make it like they never existed. It’s known as being a Magic Breaker.”
Esh’s eyebrows rose, though no other signs of hesitant disbelief appeared on his face. Considering she’d never heard of Magic Breakers until the Guild entered her life, she wouldn’t have blamed him if he laughed outright at the thought. “You can’t cast spells?”
“Nope,” she said, popping the p at the end.
“But if you come to a house that has a magical lock on the door…”
“I can open it, twist the handle and go right on in. It’s amazing how many people will lock up their houses with layers of magic but not use a ten-dollar deadbolt.”
Esh crossed his arms over his chest and breathed deep, as if settling everything he’d learned inside him. “So the Guild thinks Beylor, what, lives in one of these magic-free zones you were talking about and they expect you to walk in and grab this piece of jewelry?”
He looked skeptical, and she didn’t blame him. “Not quite. I’m not going to be alone. There’s a thief I’ll be meeting there. I need to find the item, and they’re going to steal it.”
His hands went to his hips and he widened his stance, and damned if she was going to admit the dominating aura did anything to her insides, because like hell she’d ever give him that type of ammunition. “If they got
a thief, why do they need you?”
“Beylor is known for making multiple fakes of his valuables. Multiple fakes in multiple vaults, so I’m needed to lead my contact to the correct item.”
“And it’s got to be you because you’re a Magic Breaker?”
“Exactly. A wizard would be useless, but what I’m able to do isn’t the same, so I’ll be able to function.”
His stance was still aggressive, those large hands resting on trim hips. “That’s all well and good, but you’re not a warrior. Beylor’ll have an army of thugs wandering around.”
“I’ll deal with it.”
Wrong thing to say, because he went from calm to pissed, veins in his neck raising beneath the skin. “Like fuck you’ll deal with it! You think I’ll let you just walk into that shit? Beylor has access to the best fighters, and none of them would have a second thought about hurting a woman.”
Ten minutes after walking in the door, and he thought he had the right to an opinion? Like hell. “What makes you think you have any say in my life? I’ve been doing just fine.”
“And if I don’t help you?” he challenged.
“Then there’s plan B,” she responded, flinging her hands up in frustration. “They might have determined this to be the best plan, but I guarantee they’ll have someone else I can travel with. I don’t need your help.”
She turned, but his fingers wrapped around her upper arm stopped her from leaving. She twisted to face him but didn’t get a chance to speak before he claimed her mouth, his lips on hers and his tongue demanding entrance.
Familiar yet new. So many times he’d done this, evoked fire in her body, flames that started low in her belly and spread to engulf her whole body. He dominated her, taking possession with his mouth, forcing her to receive pleasure as he deemed to give it.
Only white existed in her thoughts. She was all feeling, all senses. His touch, the calloused hand rough and tender as it slid along her back. His scent, sweat from the match still on his skin, woodsmoke, and the musky male undertone that was pure Esh.
Nalah’s hands were weak, trembling, as she pushed at him, breaking free enough to whisper, “We can’t. Esh.”
He groaned as she said his name and retook her mouth, a languid conquest where he drew out sighs and groans from her against her will.
It was his hands sliding down to cup her ass that brought back damned reality to the forefront. This time her push against him was harder and caught him off guard, enough that she was able to escape.
The clench of his jaw and the heavy breathing told of bringing himself under control.
They studied each other for several moments. He would do this in the cage, this focused deconstruction, those few moments before the match started, and Nalah would swear that these were the moments he was most dangerous. The fights might be more spectacular, but this was where Esh figured out his enemy – how they were weak, how to strike, how to break.
Yes, anyone with sense would fear him most in these moments.
And never let it be said Nalah didn’t have sense.
When his body relaxed, that was when Nalah’s guard went up. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll accept my leash and take you to the Tour.” And just as she was about to breathe out in relief, he added, “With conditions.”
Of course there were. “What conditions?”
Esh crossed his arms over his chest in a way that stretched his T-shirt over his chest, every muscle defined under the cotton, and her mouth watered a little. “The only reason a fighter would bring a woman was if she was his, so for the duration of the Tour, you’re mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I said.”
He was arrogance personified standing there, and damned if that wasn’t a good look on him, the bastard. “Pretend I’m stupid and spell it out.”
His eyes burned as they raked over her body, as strong as a physical caress, and the sensations that hadn’t dimmed since their kiss burned brighter. “No fucking,” he said. “I’m not going to fuck you until you beg me. Everything else, that’s allowed.”
“Everything else?” she asked in spite of a very dry mouth, needing and dreading clarity for that statement.
“My mouth on yours,” he started, and began to walk toward her, slow and steady, winding and hypnotizing like a snake before it strikes. “My palms trailing over your breasts. Teeth biting into your skin, marking you for everyone to see. My cock rubbing over your ass. Tongue on your clit, and my fingers deep inside you as you come all. Over. Me.”
He was in front of her now, their gazes locked, both breathing heavy. “That’s what you agree to give me if I do this. From now until you get your item, you stay by my side, and I have the freedom to claim you as mine.”
Chapter Five
‡
“You know who you called.”
Beeeep
“Warm and fuzzy as always.”
Throat clearing.
“I want to be clear, since you left so fast last night. While I get I have to pretend to be yours, what you said isn’t going to happen. Yeah, for realism some things…yeah. But ummm…not like you said. You and I aren’t there.”
Pause.
“Just want to be clear.”
Click.
He had to bring the motorcycle.
All sleek chrome and purring engine, and there Esh sat, the king of his world. His legs were splayed to keep the bike steady, the tight jeans a nice showcase for what lay underneath, highlighting both muscles and length. Over his T-shirt? A worn leather jacket that was near enough a second skin, buttery soft and inviting. The urge to stroke it – stroke him – was as sharp as ever.
“I don’t like motorcycles anymore. Death traps, you know.” Her resistance was token, but she couldn’t climb behind him without the attempt.
“Get on,” he replied. The problem was she’d never had any older women in her life to advise her as she was growing up. Older women would give out good advice, like never tell a man who wanted to get into your pants that motorcycles and black leather made your thighs tremble, and your biggest fantasy was sex on top of one.
After hearing things like that, men tended to use that sort of information against you.
She could do this. One leg over, scoot back as far as possible, hold onto Esh with only her hands. Simple.
Except the moment her butt hit the seat Esh reached behind him and curled his hands under her thighs, pulling her forward until she was flush against him, breasts and belly against his broad back, her thighs spread wide to cradle his hips.
The gasp couldn’t be stopped any more than breathing could be stopped, her arms reaching around him, and then the motor gunned. She held tight as the bike took off.
The wind made conversation impossible. In jagged bits her body began to relax, to settle into both Esh and the bike. The vibrations of the bike rumbled through her skin. Esh’s back protected her from the worst of the whipping wind, and she burrowed into him, pressing closer to move with the bike, relaxing into the turns and absorbing the bumps in the road.
The sun was warm as it beat down on them, a nice complement to the bite of the wind. There was nothing like the freedom of a bike, pushed close behind your man. He wasn’t her man, not anymore, but a moment, just a moment, she could disappear into memory and enjoy.
After almost an hour of travel, he pulled onto a side road that led deep into a wooded area. “I think serial killer movies start this way,” Nalah said, loud enough to be heard over the engine.
“Yeah, but I’m around. You should be more scared for them.”
Stupid comeback, but the smile curled her lips anyway, and she ducked her head and placed it against his back as if there was a chance he could see it.
They came to a large clearing filled with mostly motorcycles and beat up trucks. The spacing was haphazard, leaving Esh to park in a loose circle of racing bikes.
Nalah pushed off, and as soon as both feet hit ground her trembling thigh muscles refused t
o support her weight and her legs buckled. Only Esh’s quick reflexes stopped her from falling against the motorcycle.
“It’s been awhile,” she said as warmth bloomed in her face and she avoided his eyes. Nice thing being darker-skinned was blushes were a lot harder to see, but Esh was close enough that if he was observant, he’d notice it – and Esh was nothing if not observant.
“I’m not going to complain knowing that,” he said, voice low and tone possessive, the same one he’d used when he’d told Jac they were leaving and she wouldn’t be back until morning. Her stupid brother had only smirked and said to have fun.
Thoughts of her brother brought her into the present, dissipated the blush and made sure the only reason her thighs trembled was because of the reality of riding the bike and nothing to do with the man in front of her. She met his eyes now, and whatever he saw had his mouth thinning, had him giving a small nod and grabbing her elbow for support only as they walked a small path through more trees to what she assumed was the fighters gathering area.
Steps one, two and three, they were enveloped by trees, but with step four a large gathering area opened up. A rough guess would place the number of people before them at about a hundred or so. So far all of them were human and the vast majority were men. They moved forward and joined the group.
Esh’s palm was a brand where it lay on the small of her back. Men only had to glance at it and then at Esh before they averted their eyes from her and became interested in other sights.
Women took it more as a challenge. More than one looked at the hand, looked at her, and then smirked before they gazed at Esh with half-lidded eyes and pouty lips. And any fantasy she had about ripping off those fake lips? It had nothing to do with Esh. It was because they were being rude.
Entwined Realms Volume One Page 33