Act of Brotherhood_Paranormal Security and Intelligence_PSI-Ops an Immortal Ops World Novel

by Mandy M. Roth

  He didn’t want to take it slower. He wanted to take her then and there, but she needed time to adjust, and he’d give her the time she required. His wolf would just have to cool its jets.

  At the thought of having to delay gratification, his wolf made its protest known by making Garth’s eyes change again. He closed them once more.

  Nicolette gasped and stiffened in his arms.

  Shit.

  “That is the second time tonight I thought I saw something with your eyes that can’t be real,” she said, touching under his right eye. “The first time was when you were in the square.”

  She’d caught the other loss of control too? With a shaky breath, he looked at her, praying the amber of his wolf’s eyes had receded. He was too worked up to tell.

  A question formed on her brow. “Weird. They’re the sexiest green I’ve ever seen, but I swear to you that when the light catches them just right, they look amber. Then again, I could be totally nuts.”

  She was anything but crazy.

  Divulging the truth of who and what he was couldn’t happen, but Garth wanted it to. He didn’t want secrets between himself and this woman. He wanted open communication.

  Never before had he wanted to lay all his secrets bare before a woman he was about to bed—or any woman, for that matter. Yet he wanted to do just that now. He wanted to explain that he wasn’t human, that his eyes changing color wasn’t a play of light or her imagination.

  Opening that door of truth was a bad idea, and he knew it. He knew that once the horse was out of the barn, putting it back wouldn’t be easy—not without the help of a vampire or a Fae to mind-wipe her. What if she panicked? What if she thought he was crazy? Worse yet, what if she ran to the media about it all?

  A target would be painted on her. There were certain factions in the supernatural world who wouldn’t bat an eye at eliminating a bothersome human. Especially one who knew the truth about them.

  His wolf snarled within him.

  She was not to be touched. Ever!

  “Garth?” she asked, hesitation in her voice.

  Pressing his lips to her forehead, he relaxed and hugged her quickly before releasing her. “Time to get what you claim were cupcakes off us.”

  She laughed softly and nodded. “Follow me.”

  He did. She led him through the house and then stopped at a half bath that was built to fit under the staircase. Thankfully, the old home had high ceilings, or Garth would have had to add remembering to duck on his long list of things he needed to do. Avoid pinning her to the floor and fucking her senseless. Don’t shift in front of her.

  “You can wash up in here. There are washcloths on the shelf under the sink. My roommate and I have a friend who occasionally stays over on the pull-out sofa. He leaves clothes here all the time. You’re about the same size. I’ll get you one of his T-shirts.”

  It was then Garth caught the scent of another woman within the home. He’d been so captivated by the succulent smell of Nicolette that he hadn’t bothered to notice any others. That should have been alarming. As a shifter male, it was natural for him to notice lingering scents. His only focus had been on Nicolette.

  While the other woman’s smell was pleasant, it didn’t make him want to fuck until he couldn’t fuck anymore, like Nicolette’s scent did. “You mentioned your roommate is on a trip?”

  “For business, yes,” said Nicolette as she stepped back. “Or else she’d be here demanding fingerprints from you and a full background check. Then she’d want you to get naked, so she could rate you before telling me to take you to my room and not let you out again. She’s both wild and overprotective. Interesting mix. I’m never sure if I’m going to get scolded or possibly arrested when something involves her.”

  Garth was very open to being locked in her bedroom for eternity. He’d tie himself to her bed if she simply hinted at it being an option. He chuckled and pulled his T-shirt up and over his head. He washed his arms and hands thoroughly, getting the smeared cupcake off himself. He used the hand towel to dry himself and when he turned, he found Nicolette hadn’t budged.

  She was staring intensely at his torso. For a second, he assumed she was checking him out. He wasn’t a shy man, and he knew what his body looked like. He also knew women had always seemed taken with it, with him.

  But Nicolette’s expression wasn’t one of lust, it was of sadness.

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  Confused, he followed her gaze to the scar that ran from his upper right chest down to his lower left side. It was thinner than it used to be, and time had left it faded to the point he often forgot he had it. He had many others, but that one was by far the worst. A fair number of tattoos covered most of them. He kept his tattoos confined to his chest and back, for now. All of them had something to do with Norse mythology. After all, that was the religion he’d been born into and grew up practicing.

  Garth opened his mouth to give the standard response he’d handed to countless people over the centuries. The one where he told them he’d sustained an injury in battle. That wasn’t what fell out. The truth did.

  “My father gave me the scar. My brother was standing next to me. When the blow was delivered, it was my brother who was first struck. Though, he was cut on the face, nearly losing his eye in the process.” Garth touched his face where Grid’s scar was. “And the blade of the sword continued downwards at an angle, across me.”

  “Blade? Sword?” she asked, edging closer to him. “Your father sliced open you and your brother?”

  He offered a curt nod, unsure how to express his feelings on the matter. They were something he’d buried long ago.

  She cupped her mouth and teared up. “Tell me he was locked away.”

  A snort came from Garth. “No. But in the end, justice was delivered.”

  Her hand found the start of his scar. She leaned and pressed a kiss to it before glancing up at him with moist blue eyes. Nicolette drew back from him quickly and swallowed hard, her fingers trailing away from his skin slowly.

  He caught her hand in his and their gazes collided. Whatever was happening between them was powerful. It made him want to act out of character, say things he wouldn’t say to others.

  “I was going to get you one of Cody’s shirts,” she said.

  Garth stiffened at the mention of the man’s name. “And Cody would be the friend that spends time here?”

  She smiled. “Yep. He crashes on the pull-out sofa when he’s in town.”

  Inhaling deep, Garth tried to pick up on the smell of the male but came away empty. If it had been some time since the man had been in the home, it would lessen his scent. And the damn cinnamon, cloves, and vanilla that lingered in the air continued to confuse his wolf senses. There was no reason to be jealous about another man when it came to Nicolette. After all, it wasn’t as if Garth and the woman were an item or anything. Each of them was free to see and do what they wanted.

  His gut clenched at the idea of Nicolette being touched by another man.

  Stop it. She’s just a random woman.

  He couldn’t be certain, but it felt as if his wolf actually laughed at his denial. That couldn’t be good. But he was right: she was a woman he’d happened to walk into on the street. It could have been any woman. It just happened to be this one. Had he slammed into a different woman, he’d have more than likely wanted to ravish her as well. It was the shit Auberi gave him. It had to be.

  Even as the thoughts filtered through his head, Garth knew deep down that something felt off. He remembered the four women in the tight, short skirts. Yes, he’d found them attractive and had entertained having some fun with them, but this was different. He didn’t want to merely have some fun with Nicolette. He wanted to devour her sexually and emotionally. He wanted to see her face when he brought her to culmination, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close afterwards.

  The fact he wanted there to be an afterwards spoke volumes.

  He’d been a bac
helor all his life and never planned to change his bad boy ways. Sure, he wasn’t quite the playboy his friend Malik had been before mating, but Garth was no slouch. In all his years, he’d never once longed for something more with a woman.

  Something real.

  He wanted that with the woman standing near him currently. It didn’t help to see her genuine heartache for what his father had done. There was no pity in her gaze as she looked upon him. Just kindness.

  Nicolette made a move to leave the area, but he caught her hand. “I don’t need another shirt right this second.”

  He wanted her to remain close to him. It was then he noticed he was caressing her wrist with his thumb. He tugged gently on her hand and she came to him. He lifted her hand and kissed each of her knuckles, one by one, his gaze never leaving hers.

  She closed her eyes briefly, and then stepped away from him all the same, leaving a sense of longing remaining in him. He knew why she’d done it. She felt overwhelmed too. That meant the pull went both ways.

  Nicolette headed down a short hallway to the kitchen. He followed behind her, leaving his shirt in the bathroom. Nicolette stretched upwards near the refrigerator and it took Garth a second to realize she was trying to get a bottle of wine from the rack built above the appliance. He moved up behind her, his body crowding hers, and he reached up. Bending, he put his lips to her ear. “What do you want?”

  She melted against him and the scent of her arousal nearly shattered his already feeble self-control. “You. Erm, a merlot. Do you like wine?”

  “I do,” he said, a smile touching his lips as he stayed close to her. He selected a merlot from the rack, but he lowered it leisurely, savoring the moment and the closeness he had to Nicolette.

  Her hand found his upper thigh and she squeezed, pulling him closer. Garth set the bottle of wine on the counter and put his hands on Nicolette’s hips. “Tell me where your opener is, and I’ll handle this while you get cleaned up.”

  “Huh?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. She blinked and then gasped. “Oh, right. Cupcakes. Clean up. I knew there was something I was going to do. In my defense, you feel really good right there.”

  He chortled and rubbed against her backside, his dick pushing at the confines of his jeans. When she swayed her hips just right, it was his turn to get lost in the moment. He groaned and jerked her to him tighter. He growled against her ear lightly. “You should go now.”

  She nodded but didn’t move.

  “Nicolette.”

  “Do you feel it?” she asked, squeezing his thigh more. “The heat?”

  “Yes,” he managed, only barely in control of himself. This woman was going to be his undoing. He took a step back, knowing someone had to be the voice of reason. That or they both needed to be naked, stat.

  Either would work.

  Chapter Nine

  Nicolette had to fight to tear her gaze from Garth’s chiseled body. She’d thought the guy in the scary movie who could turn into a wolf had been hot. Now that she’d seen Garth without his shirt on, she realized the other guy wasn’t really all that.

  The guy before her was all that and more.

  Much more.

  She nearly bit her fist at the sight of him shirtless. The phrase “wet-panty material” made a whole lot more sense to her now than it had before. There wasn’t a spot on the man that didn’t seem to be honed to perfection. A myriad of tattoos covered his chest and abdomen. She looked harder at one of the tattoos and tipped her head, trying to make sense of it. When she realized it was a hammer like the god Thor was said to have, she grinned. There was hope she really would get a real live Viking naked very soon.

  Garth cleared his throat and Nicolette’s cheeks heated.

  “Sorry. I was admiring your, um, tattoos. I’m going to get cleaned up. I’ll be right back.” She got the wine bottle opener out of the drawer and practically threw it at the man before scurrying out of the kitchen and through the living room. She grabbed her cell phone on the way up the stairs and called Clara at once before she’d hit the landing.

  Clara answered on the third ring. “What’s shakin’ bacon?”

  “I’m pretty sure I brought a Viking god that I just met home with me to have sex. That was after I cupcaked him.”

  Dead silence greeted her.

  It ticked on for a few seconds as Nicolette yanked her cupcake-covered T-shirt off and tossed it onto her bathroom floor. “Are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m trying to figure out if I had a brain aneurysm or if I heard you right,” returned Clara.

  “Clara!” Nicolette squeaked. “I need your advice right now.”

  “On what part? The bringing-home-a-guy-to-have-sex-with or the Viking-cake bit?”

  “Not a Viking cake. A Viking covered in cake—erm, cupcake,” stressed Nicolette.

  “Okay then. I heard that right the first time,” answered Clara. “I leave you alone for like a day and you’ve already brought a stranger home with you. Girl, for real. An ounce of self-preservation goes a long way.”

  “He doesn’t feel dangerous to me,” Nicolette said softly as she rifled through her dresser drawer for another T-shirt.

  Clara sighed loudly. “On a good note, your gut is pretty much never wrong. On another good note, if he’s covered in the cupcakes you ordered for your class, there’s a higher-than-average chance the cupcakes will kill him, and that would mean he’d be too dead to be a threat to you.”

  “Not funny,” snapped Nicolette before huffing and grabbing her go-to favorite T-shirt from high school. She pulled it on and then eased her hair from the back of it. “Am I nuts? I really want this guy in a dirty, dirty way.”

  Clara laughed. “It’s about time you wanted a guy that way, but could you wait until I’m in the same country, so someone is close in the event your gut is wrong? Call your uncle and let him know you have someone there.”

  “What do you mean in the same country? You told me you were flying to Colorado.”

  Clara cleared her throat. “Oh yes. I meant another state. Sorry. I’m still stunned by you announcing you brought a man home with you.”

  Nicolette stilled. “Hold on, did you suggest I call my uncle and tell him I’m having a random hook up with a guy I barely know?”

  Clara snorted. “When you put it that way, no. Maybe phrase it different.”

  “The minute I have a boy in the house leaves my mouth, my uncle will descend upon this place. You know how he is,” said Nicolette.

  “I do. And I know why he is the way he is,” she said before taking a deep breath. “Question. If you’re on the phone with me, where is the Viking-Cupcake Dude? Tell me you didn’t forget about him like you forgot about opening the window and not closing the door.”

  A line of French curses came from her. She’d forgotten Garth was downstairs waiting on her which was ironic seeing as how she’d called Clara in the first place to talk about the man.

  “You never used to be this bad. What’s been up with you lately?”

  “No idea but I have to go.”

  “Text me sex updates. And I’d advise that you refrain from licking any of that cupcake off his body. It could be hazardous to your health,” said Clara with a laugh.

  Nicolette hung up on her friend and put her phone in her back pocket. She then did her best to wash away any remaining cupcake residue from her arms, hands, and the ends of her hair. It was greasier than it should be, and she began to wonder if Garth was right. Had he saved the children from certain demise by ruining their treat?

  She stepped back from the bathroom sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror. A stranger stared back. A wild woman who was about to go downstairs and do something totally out of character.

  A slow smile spread over Nicolette’s face.

  About time.

  Another thought hit her, and she lifted her Viking T-shirt to see what bra she had on. She then peeked down the front of her jeans, wondering if her panties and bra matched. As luck would have it,
they did. And they were a set that was actually sexy, unlike a number of her panties that had inspirational phrases on them. She’d found a great sale on the under items and had bought the place out. She loved the positive messages.

  Clara took every chance she could to threaten to burn them. Apparently, they were anything but sexy to men.

  The set she was in now had been a gift from Clara, so they’d work perfectly. She breathed into her hand next, making sure she didn’t have offensive breath. Sinking to a new low, she lifted her arms and sniffed her pits. With all the colliding into hot hunks and speed walking from the square, she wanted to be sure she didn’t smell like sweat.

  She didn’t.

  She looked in the mirror. “Clara, I’m glad you’re not here. You’d never let me live this down.”

  With mustered courage, Nicolette left her bathroom and glanced out the window as she heard something that sounded like thunder in the distance. She went to the window to ensure it was closed tight and then tried to lock it—only to find the lock was broken. Had it always been that way?

  She couldn’t remember. She’d never had a need to lock it before. Her gaze drifted to the back corner of the yard, and she paused when she saw the back lights were burnt out again. The things went through light bulbs like they were going out of style.

  Something else to add to the list.

  Satisfied that if a storm came, rain wouldn’t get in, she backed away from the window and headed downstairs again. She found Garth in the living room, looking at framed photos that adorned the mantel above the fireplace.

  He glanced back at her—and then quirked a brow at the sight of her shirt. “What is that?”

  She tugged at the shirt. “If you tell me it’s hideous, I’ll make you leave. It’s my favorite T-shirt. I’ve had it for years and I already told you I have a thing for Vikings. It’s old, but it’s perfect for me. Vintage.”

  “Kind of like I am.” He brought his glass of wine to his lips and looked to be doing his best to avoid laughing.