by Jo Raven
He topped it off, watching her eyes. “Do you want to go out tonight? The good nightclubs are just opening their doors.”
She laughed at him, but the wine was going to her head. She felt buzzy. “From the ankles down, you look like The Mummy.”
“And you don’t find that sexy?”
“Only vampires are sexy. Not mummies.”
“If you have much more of this champagne, you might change your mind.”
This was it.
Elfie took a big, deliberate gulp of champagne, walked around the table, and grabbed the champagne bottle that was still mostly full. “Yep, I changed my mind. Mummies are sexy. Let’s go.”
He looked up at her, and a lazy smile stretched his full lips. He stood, reaching for her hand, and Elfie was relieved that he was limping a lot less with the gauze taped on his feet.
She took a few steps toward the bedroom, but Tryp’s arms snaked around her from behind. He lifted her, cradling her back and under her knees, and kissed her, just a whisper of his lips on hers. Elfie touched his smooth cheeks. He must have shaved when he had showered.
“Your feet?” she asked.
“I can’t even feel them. I can only feel you in my arms.” He carried her to the bed and laid her down among the pillows before climbing in and stretching out beside her. His long legs dangled off the end of the bed.
“You’re okay with staying in?” she asked.
“I think it’s a great idea.” He kissed her again. “The dancing was just an excuse to have you in my arms. I think the guy holding a gun to my head tonight made me reevaluate things.”
“Me, too.” She rolled on her side, pressing her body against his. “Make love to me.”
His breath hitched. “Why now?”
She dragged her leg over his, feeling the rough denim seam on the inside of her thigh. “I almost was raped today.”
Tryp’s hand tightened on her hip, and his lips thinned. “I was trying to get back to you. I was in time. I would have gotten you out, though you did a great job burning the temple down.”
“I know. You came back, and you were there and you saved me. I know. But Kumen wanted me because I was a virgin. And my step-father always made a big deal out of the fact that I was a virgin. When I was nine, he took me to a virginity cotillion, and I pledged my virginity to him. I signed a paper, and he gave me a diamond purity ring. I was nine.”
Tryp closed his eyes. “That’s twisted, and you saw what I’m used to.”
“Freaks and pervs are attracted to virginity. And I don’t want those kind of men even thinking about me anymore.”
He caressed her, down her side. “I can protect you. I’ll protect you from all of them. This isn’t a decision to make out of fear.”
“It isn’t fear now. I have been afraid, every minute, for so long of what will happen. I was afraid that they’re right, that I’ll be less valuable somehow, that I’ll lose something. I’ve been burying myself in cargo pants and shapeless tee shirts and threatening any guy who gets physically close to me with explosives.”
He smiled a little and shifted his weight to press his body closer to hers. “It’s effective.”
“I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to move past it. I want to prove to myself that it’s not losing anything. It’s adding. It’s adding a part of life that I haven’t explored because I was afraid, but now I want to add it to my life. I want to add you to my life. No matter what else happens between us in the future, I want to have this with you. I want you.”
Tryp slid his hand around behind her back and pressed, tightening their bodies against each other. The tight blue skirt rode up Elfie’s thigh, and his warmth crept through her dress. “Your first time should be with someone you love, not some dirty rocker.”
She searched his dark eyes. This was one last moment that she could hold hope in her heart, but she had to know. “Did you mean what you said when that guy was taking you away?”
Tryp swallowed hard, like he was breaking up a lump in his throat. “Every word. When Teancum dragged me off, I was trying to look at you so that I could think about you when he shot me.”
“When I thought you were dead, I wanted to die, too.”
He stroked her face with his knuckles. “I would never want that. I wanted you to survive, and get out, and live.”
“I felt like I was dying. It seemed so wrong that the whole world didn’t curl up and die. I love you, Tryfon.”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.
Held so tightly to him, the shampoo’s herbal scent from his damp curls filled her nose, and she dipped her head to kiss his neck. A shock wave fluttered through his body wedged between her arms and legs.
She whispered into his ear, “Make love to me.”
He groaned into her neck and pushed her over on her back, kissing her mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips again, touching hers, and he kissed her deeper. His hands roamed her body, stroking first her arms and thighs, then curving around her breasts. He rolled her to him and found the zipper up the back of her dress, released it, then slipped the straps down her arms and ran his lips over her shoulders.
She arched into him, and he pushed her against the long, hard muscles of his body. He hadn’t done this before, this rough pressing, probably because he had been holding himself back.
Her heart pounded through her body, and she gasped every time he grabbed her body against his, or his teeth raked the skin on her shoulder, or he pressed his thigh between her legs and her body flushed with desire.
He pushed her dress down her body and drew it off her legs, leaving her bare except for panties. His eyes brightened when he looked at her skin. He stripped his shirt off, baring his rippled torso and bands of strong muscle, and all that glorious tattoo ink, and gathered her against his hot skin.
Elfie held tight to him, kissing him back, running her lips and hands over him, and feeling his skin all along herself.
He used his whole body to press her backward onto the bed and rolled above her, his dark eyes locked on hers the whole time.
As his body blotted out the lights, Elfie sucked air in, but she was not the same little girl who was afraid when her step-father stood over her bed, not after burning down the temple, escaping the cult, and rescuing Sariah. Elfie ran her hands over Tryp’s broad shoulders, feeling his powerful muscles contract under her palms when he moved. This was Tryfon. This was now. Nothing else mattered.
“I love you,” she whispered, holding him.
Tryp drew back, and the light touched her face. Passion glazed his dark eyes, and his skin was flushed. He said, “Let’s get married.”
Elfie’s held onto his shoulders because the bed tilted under her. “I—what?”
“Let’s get married,” he said.
“We can’t!” Blood rushed in her body, and her heart raced.
“Why not?”
“Because!”
“You don’t want to get married?” he asked, concern dawning in his eyes.
“Yes, but—”
He grinned. “Then what?”
“Well, my last wedding didn’t go so well.”
“We’ll buy rings at the shops downstairs. I’ll buy you anything you want. Something huge that a rock star’s wife would wear.”
“The ring isn’t the important part.”
“The important part is that we love each other,” he said. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have a family with you.”
“Tryp, look, we’ve just been through a traumatic situation. You’ve just seen all those guys you grew up with and all those kids, and it’s messed with your head.”
“I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I feel better than I have for so long. It’s like that rifle vacuumed all the darkness and crazy out of my head, and I know what I really want for the first time, and I want you. I want us to be together. We do everything great together.”
“Like what?” She hoped she didn’t sound too sa
rcastic because she was interested in his answer.
He grinned. “Pick up women in bars.”
She rolled her eyes. “We so totally failed at that. We didn’t get you laid even once.”
“But we had a great time. And I took a beautiful blonde back to my hotel room both times. It was my fault that I didn’t seal the deal.”
“I don’t count,” she said.
“You count. You’ve always counted to me.”
She settled her arms more firmly around his neck. “Come on. Make love to me.”
Tryp sat up, his dark eyes glittering, and swirled the covers around his waist. “Not until we’re married.”
“What!” She sat up and crammed a pillow to her chest, covering herself.
Tryp said, “If you love me, you’ll wait.”
“I beg your pardon!”
“I’m saving myself.”
“Since when? You are so totally the biggest manwhore—”
“Heavenly Father spoke to me and granted me a second virginity.”
“This is patently the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard and pretty creepy considering what we’re been through today.”
He tucked the bedspread securely around his waist, but he laid down beside her. “I love you, Elfie. When you’re with me, I don’t feel alone. I have been so alone since I was fourteen, and I want us to always be together, not just tonight, not just this tour, but forever. Let’s get married. Please, marry me.”
“Really?” She sat back, studying the earnestness in his dark eyes. “You’re serious?”
“It literally took someone pointing a gun at my head to wake me up, but I meant every word that I said to Kumen and when they were dragging me away. Any man would be lucky to marry you. I want to be that guy, and I want you to be my wife. Every time I look at you, all I can think is mine, and I want to growl at other men.”
“It’s all so sudden.”
“Let’s go buy rings. Let’s get a license. Let’s get you a dress and me, a suit. Let’s get married.”
The pillow against Elfie’s chest calmed the shaking in her body. “I thought you were kidding.”
“I’m not kidding. We’re in Las Vegas. We can be married in a few hours.” The dead calm in his dark eyes convinced her like nothing else.
She couldn’t seem to draw a breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He grinned. “This time, we’ll save the pyrotechnics for the wedding night.”
Elif Tilsi
Tryp called the concierge to get them a cab. He’d had at least half that bottle of champagne and, tolerance aside, wouldn’t take even a small chance with driving.
“Can I ask you a favor?” Tryp asked the concierge.
“Of course,” the man on the phone said.
“Is your wedding chapel free tonight?”
“Let me check.” He paused. “Yes. One of our chapels is free tonight.”
“Great. Can we reserve it from, like, midnight until three? And could you get us a minister?”
“That long of a service, sir?”
“We’ve got to get the license. I’m not sure when we’ll be back.”
“I’ll have someone waiting for you. Would you like anything else?”
“Flowers,” Tryp said. “White roses. A bouquet for her. And a thing for me, that thing that you pin on your suit.”
“A boutonniere.”
“Yeah. And bunches of roses all over the chapel. Hundreds of them. And those little white Christmas lights. And candles. Lots of candles. Hundreds. She likes fire.”
“We’ll have it ready for you. Congratulations.”
Tryp grinned. “Thank you.”
The marriage license bureau stayed open until midnight, so they hit there first. When Elfie presented her driver’s license, the lady said, “Elif Tilsi, that’s a lovely name. I get to see so many interesting and beautiful names, working here.”
Elif. Elfie. Now it made sense. Tryp smiled.
“My dad was Turkish,” Elfie said, “even though he was blond like me.”
So many things he had left to discover about her. He had his whole life to find them all out. He wrapped one arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
Elfie leaned against him, her warm, fragile body pressed against his side, and Tryp stroked her golden hair, loose and swaying in the breeze of the air conditioning like a fire goddess.
He handed the lady his driver’s license, and she read off his name, “Tryfon Diavolos Areleous. Oo-oh. Diavolos. Are you devilish?”
He smiled a dark, evil smile and lowered his voice. “I’m the Prince of Fire.”
Elfie looked up at him, startled, but grinning.
Yeah, she was a pyro.
White Roses and Fire
Elfie’s head spun while they picked out rings, and Tryp wouldn’t even let her ask the jeweler how much they cost.
He scrutinized the forty-some choices of men’s rings at the store, all stuffed into a velvet case, and finally called Elfie over to help him choose a wide band, wire-like ridges running around it so it looked sort of industrial, but very manly. The silvery platinum would match the steel chains he wore around his wrists at shows.
And then it was Elfie’s turn, and she stared at all the pretty rocks that glittered and cast laser sparks like the box was full of fire.
“Which one do you like?” Tryp asked.
“I don’t know.” So many. So, so many. All flashing at her.
“So buy two or three, and you can switch them out.”
“That’s weird! But only one would be the real band when we said our vows, anyway.”
“Nah, I’ll just hold all of them and stick them on all at once. Buy seven of them. Then you can have one for each day of the week.”
Okay, so he was teasing her. She grinned at him, and he laughed and tucked her under his arm again.
One ring in the corner caught her eye. Wavy gold X’s crisscrossed around the band, and diamonds studded the spaces between, above, and below the arms. “I like that one.”
Tryp craned his head to look at it. “The bent X’s look like fire,” he said. “It’s perfect. Don’t you want an engagement ring, though? One of the big ones?”
She shook her head. “I like that one.”
He slid his hand down her back from her shoulders to her waist, and Elfie leaned into him.
They separated to buy her dress and his suit, since he didn’t have another one beyond the suit that was lying in pieces across the Utah desert. Elfie found a sleek white dress that looked absolutely nothing like the swollen monstrosity that Sariah had brought to her. The yawning shop assistant found her some platform high heels that made hemming it unnecessary.
Good God, she was going to do this. She was going to marry him.
It had been a really wild day.
A tremor of nerves in her heart was squashed when she saw Tryp, carrying a garment bag but wearing his jeans and black tee shirt. Those gorgeous tattoos swarmed over his arms, and he was smiling a huge smile just for her.
He trotted over. “Got everything?”
“Yeah. I guess I already did my hair and make-up.”
“And I already shaved. Let’s go to the chapel.”
She had to give the rock star one last chance to back out before he did something stupid and married the roadie. “You’re sure about this? Really?”
Tryp caught her around the waist with his free arm and pulled her against him. His lean, muscular chest was firm under her palm, and she licked her lips.
He said, “I am more sure about this than anything else in my whole life. We belong together, my fire goddess.”
“I always thought of myself as a pyromaniac.”
“No, that was magic, when you threw fireballs and chased them all out of the temple, and then you burned it down.”
“It wasn’t all that great. I could have done it safely if I’d had an hour to set up, special effects bases, and a proper ignition board—”
He kissed her, and his mouth c
aressing her lips made her forget what she was protesting.
They rode the elevator upstairs to the chapel, her small hand in his strong one the whole way, and changed into their wedding outfits in separate dressing rooms in the chapel.
A man knocked on the door of Elfie’s changing room. “We’re ready for you, whenever you’re ready.”
Elfie took one last glance at herself in the wide mirror. Her gold-blond hair brought out the gold thread woven through the slim ivory gown, and she did kind of look like a fire goddess.
The guy handed her a bouquet of white roses, and she smiled at the symbol of purity for two virgins—one of them recently minted—marrying, and he opened the door to the chapel for her to walk down the aisle.
Tryp stood at the altar, darkly handsome and wearing a black suit and tie, as devilish as his middle name, amid thousands of white roses and candles, all glowing with fire.
She couldn’t have dreamed of anything more perfect.
Adding Something
Elfie giggled and Tryp chuckled as they ran back to their hotel room. She said, “I can’t believe we did that. It was so fast. It was, like, less than three hours!”
He laughed as he swiped the keycard through the reader. “It was fast, but it’s right. We shouldn’t wait when it’s right.”
“Maybe we should have waited,” she said, realization dawning. “Maybe we should have invited people.”
“Oh, fuck,” Tryp said, his eyes widening. “I’m in deep shit. Xan, Gloria, and Jonas are going to be pissed that I didn’t invite them, and some other guys from high school.” He shoved their door open.
“I should really call my mother, but I haven’t even talked to her for more than two years, so maybe not. Rock, now he’s going to kill me. And Mitch and Burnsie and Ironass and the other guys—”
She was spinning, and the wall slammed her back. Tryp grabbed her, lifted her up, and kissed her hard, his lips demanding. He opened his mouth and she matched him.
Oh, this time was going to be different, and Elfie focused on the thought that she was adding something to her life, not losing what men lusted after.