The Darkest Surrender (Hqn)
Page 21
“Then I was delusional. And really, really dumb. I’m very sorry for that.” The truth, all of it. He’d only thought he’d wanted Haidee in a romantic sense, had gotten snagged by the challenge of winning the heart of an enemy.
After he’d won her, he would have walked away from her without any regrets. Easy. Kaia, though, he’d treated abominably—maybe because he’d sensed, deep down, that he would not be able to walk away from her so easily.
“I like you. A lot.”
Her chin lifted, that too-delightful stubborn streak kicking in. “But I slept with Paris and you can never forget that.”
He had pushed that fact in her face over and over again, hadn’t he? Stupid of him. While the knowledge had bothered him before—because yeah, he’d been a little jealous and hurt himself since she’d picked Paris first—it seemed insignificant right now.
How many women had Strider been with over the years? How many after Kaia had declared herself to him? Any one of those women could have been a friend of hers.
“News flash,” he said, hoping to soothe the hurt he’d caused, “half the people in this room have slept with Paris.”
Hope bloomed, the gold consuming her eyes, overshadowing even the silver, only to swiftly wither and die. “You’ll never be able to get over it. Not really. Not with me.”
Okay, a little damage control was in order. “Allow me to iron this out completely. Am I jealous? Yes. Are you going to do it again? Hell, no. Not if you like him breathing. Am I worried about our first time because of him? Yes. What if I’m not as good? But do I cast stones about what happened? No. You’re talking to a borderline man-whore, Kaia. Like I really have room to judge.”
“You’re jealous?” The lustrous gleam of her skin suddenly peeked past her makeup as her body temperature rose.
His heart galloped into an unsteady rhythm and his mouth watered. A taste, soon, very soon. He had to have one. “Yes. And here’s another news flash.” His words were slightly slurred, as if he were drunk on desire. “I’m possessive. That’s not going to change.”
“I don’t want that to change. I like that about you.”
“Good.” The few times he’d tried the relationship thing, that possessiveness of his had gotten old, fast.
“And I—” She frowned, the gleam dimming just as her hope had. “You’re just saying all of this because you expect me to win the Paring Rod for you.”
Wrong as she was, he deserved the doubt, he really did. Plus, he couldn’t stop a wave of guilt from sweeping through him. No matter what he next said, no matter whether she believed him now, she would think he’d lied when he actually did steal that damn Rod.
Worry later. “Does the Rod have sexy red hair and a body that wraps around me just right?”
Her sexy lips puckered. “No.”
So kissable… “Then I’m pretty sure I like you for being you. I mean, what’s not to like?”
“True,” she said, but she didn’t relax against him. “I am pretty awesome.”
“Better than pretty.”
“I know. And no one can ever convince me otherwise. No matter how hard he tries.” A direct hit, reminding him of all the times he’d pricked at her pride to save himself from craving her.
Not that it had ever worked.
Defeat perked up and Strider gave him a mental shove into a darkened corner. He didn’t want the demon’s interference right now. This was between him and Kaia.
“I’m sorry I ever said otherwise,” he added sincerely. “Clearly I was suffering from some kind of brain injury.”
“I suspected.” Her expression softened, but still she didn’t cave. “So what do you like about me besides my amazing hair and body? Because last time we talked about this, you said I was too much trouble. You said I challenged you at every turn and you didn’t want the hassle of dealing with me.”
“Are you going to throw everything I’ve ever said in my face each time we argue?”
“Absolutely.” She admitted it freely, with no hesitation.
“Okay. Just checking.” And here was a shocker. He liked that. You had to use every weapon at your disposal to win a fight, and she wielded his past stupidity like a razor. She cut him with it, at the same time teaching him how to soothe her wounds.
“Well?”
“You are a challenge at every turn, there’s no denying that.” She stiffened, and he hurried on. “But I’m finding that I don’t mind.”
Anger flashed, a stormy silver with no hint of gold. “You don’t mind? Well, aren’t I a lucky girl? If one of your past girlfriends ever told you that you have a way with words, she was lying.”
Kaia unhooked her ankles and dropped her legs. He didn’t release her, though. He hefted her back up, forcing her to remain in place. Flush against him, rubbing just right without stimulating too much.
“Look,” he said. “You amuse the hell out of me. You excite me. And I’m finding that what I thought I wouldn’t like about you is actually my favorite part. Besides, I know I’m no picnic in the park, either.”
She’d begun to soften. At the last little bit, she flashed her pearly whites in a grimace. “You’re just digging a deeper hole, you big moron.”
“Come on, baby doll.” He spread his fingers, covering more ground as he angled toward the greatest roller-coaster ride on earth. “I’m new at being a consort. Give me some wiggle room.”
Yeah, he knew it was funny that he was asking for emotional wiggle room when he wouldn’t let her move physically, but come on. He was a guy. This was par for the course. But then she realized what he said and froze, not even seeming to breathe.
Suddenly utter vulnerability radiated from her. “Is that an admission that you’re mine?” she asked.
Was it? “Yes,” he said as realization struck. “For the next few weeks I’ll be the best damn consort you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. After that, I can’t promise. I’ve never done the long haul, forever thing. We’ll have to reevaluate, see how we feel.”
A thought short-circuited his brain. What if she couldn’t forgive him for stealing the Rod? What if that act proved to be more than “almost anything”? There would be no reevaluation because she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. They would be over, done.
A sense of urgency overtook him. He had to get her to agree to have him, all of him, now. That way, later, she would have a harder time shoving him out of her life.
Not that he would want to stick around. As he’d told her, he’d never done the long haul thing before. A few months, but never more than that. And yet, just then he couldn’t imagine not wanting Kaia. Just then he despised the thought of being without her. So, yeah, he had to get her to agree.
“Give me a chance,” he beseeched. “Please.”
Win? Defeat said.
Go back to your corner.
In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that the music had changed, the tempo harder, faster, but he refused to accelerate the slow grind he had going with Kaia.
Her shoulders sagged, but rather than stomp away in disappointment because he hadn’t agreed to stay forever, she flattened her hands on his chest and whispered, “That’s not good enough. I wish it were, but…”
“For now, it’s all I can offer.” He cupped her jaw, forcing her attention to remain on his face. “I do know that I hate the thought of you with anyone else. I know you’re the only woman I desire.”
She started nibbling on her bottom lip again, and he almost, almost, replaced her teeth with his own. But not yet. Not until she agreed.
“What changed your mind?” she asked. “I mean, it certainly wasn’t my mad street fighting skills since I crashed and burned at Tag.”
His stomach churned as an image of her blazed through his mind. Her body limp and covered with blood. Her face swollen, her limbs mangled. Never again, he thought darkly. He would protect her.
Win?
No trying to shove Defeat away. In that regard, yes. He would accept any challenge.
His chest constricted, a pang of some unknown emotion lancing through him. “I remember, baby doll, and I never thanked you. I’m sorry for that.”
“Well, thank-you or not, I’m not doing that again. I’m not throwing a fight for you.” So gently said.
“I’m glad.” Her sense of pride was as intense as his own. She hated losing, and while she didn’t experience physical pain when she failed, she did experience a shitload of mental anguish.
Her own people called her Kaia the Disappointment, for gods’ sake. Because of that, she always strove to prove herself worthy. He realized that now. Knew it was the reason she’d challenged him to begin with. She’d wanted to prove she was good enough for him. And the fact that she’d purposely lost demonstrated just how deeply she desired him. He realized that, too.
As if she had anything to prove.
Still. How had he repaid her? He’d dumped on her, time and time again. Shame exploded through him, a bomb he’d built all by himself. Well, no more dumping. As long as they were together, he would treat her with the care and concern she deserved.
“You’re glad?” She blinked at him, her warm, sweet breath trekking over his neck. His pulse leapt up to meet every exhalation. “But if I beat you at anything, you’ll hurt.”
“So you’ll kiss me and make me better. Right?”
Her nails dug past his shirt and into skin. “I—I—don’t know what to say.”
“Say you won’t purposely challenge me to something I can’t hope to win.”
A moment passed in silence as she considered his words. “I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise. Sometimes you bring out the worst in me.”
Ha! He brought out the best in her. No ego check necessary. The truth was the truth, no matter how you sliced it. “Either way, we’ll work it out.”
“Yes, we’ll work—” Slowly her eyes narrowed, her nails sinking deeper into his flesh. “Well, well. Finally I meet Mr. Agreeable. Are you buttering me up like a breakfast muffin just so I won’t hurt Haidee?”
So suspicious, but that was the nature of the beast. They were very similar in that respect. “You can hurt her if you still want to hurt her, but then Amun will be pissed and he’ll attack me. I’ll have to hurt him.”
“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “I like Amun, so I won’t hurt Haidee.”
“Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth. She liked Amun?
She retracted one set of claws and flicked her hair over one shoulder. “So what do you like about me? You never said. Feel free to get wildly descriptive and maybe throw in some poetry. Or one of those limericks you mentioned.”
Gonna make him work for it, huh? Even though she’d already decided to give him what he wanted. All the privileges of a consort, the uncertain future be damned. Oh, she hadn’t said so yet, but then, she didn’t have to. He knew. She was here, in his arms, demanding he romance her.
Typical Kaia. Never a dull moment, but a ton of fun. More than that, she had very nearly mastered the art of pleasing Defeat, offering little challenges here and there to feed him. Challenges Strider could win, no problem.
Win.
See? She’d done it again; she’d challenged him at something easy. But would he take this victory home with poetry? Gods, no. “Well, let’s see,” he began huskily. “I like your smart mouth. I like your pouty mouth. I like your potty mouth. I like your whiny mouth. I like your shrieking mouth. I like—”
“My mouth,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes. Eyes bright with arousal. She wiggled against his shaft, rubbing him perfectly, just the way he liked. “Tell me why.”
“No. I’ll show you why.” He moved one of his hands to her nape and urged her the rest of the way forward. Their lips met, opened, and their tongues thrust together. She tasted like mint and cherry, and he decided that was his new favorite flavor.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her claws digging into his scalp. Desire pumped through his veins, pure, undiluted, blinding him to everything else. To the people around them, the circumstances, the consequences. He held fire in his arms and he desperately wanted to be burned.
And he wanted to burn her. Burn his essence into every part of her, reshaping her into his woman. Everyone who looked at her, neared her, would know who she belonged to.
Mine, she’s mine. Damn, she excited him. Their tongues dueled, even that a battle. Such a delicious battle. He dominated, claiming her mouth as his territory. He felt her nipples harden against his chest and wanted to tweak them. Wanted his fingers between her legs, deep inside her, thrusting over and over again.
“Strider,” she rasped.
“Baby doll.”
“Don’t stop.”
Won, Defeat said on a sigh, shooting more of that pleasure through him and driving his need even higher.
Strider walked her forward, every jarring step rubbing her more firmly against him. When he reached the nearest table, he leaned down, swiped his arm across the beer bottles littering the surface and distantly heard them shatter on the floor. He pressed Kaia against the wood.
He wanted to do things to her. Bad things. No, good things, he told himself. He had to do good things to her. Had to be her best. But maybe he’d push her for a few of those bad things, make her take everything he had to give, make her beg, need him, crave him like a drug.
“Woohoo! Yeah, baby, yeah!” Anya, the minor goddess of Anarchy, called, her voice dragging him kicking and screaming from the fog of desire. “Rip his clothes off, Kaia. Show us what he’s got!”
Strider straightened with a snarl, his gaze scanning, his mind buzzing. Destroy the crowd, return his mouth to Kaia’s. As he realized every single person in the bar was watching them, the heat inside him cooled. Some were watching with grins, some with exasperation, some—namely the humans—with lust.
The heat returned, but for an entirely different reason. Fury, so much fury, overshadowed his own lust. He didn’t like anyone seeing Kaia like this, lost and needy, eager for him. He couldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow it.
He grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet, smoothing her dress for her. His motions were stiff, jerky. How could he have forgotten their audience, even for a second? Someone could have attacked him. Defeated him. How could he have forgotten what would happen to him if he failed to be Kaia’s best? Her best kiss. Her best lay. He’d be ruined, too weak to be effective and no use to her during the coming confrontations.
Although…he wasn’t on his knees, overcome by pain, so he’d clearly been her best kiss. Again. The knowledge puffed his chest with pride. Of course he’d been the best, and—ego check.
He had better things to do than praise his own magnificence. Like let the guys train her for the next battle the way they’d promised to do, and then haul her back to the motel.
Won, won, won, Defeat said on a sigh, more of that pleasure consuming him.
I never doubted it. He scowled at his friends. “Enough playing around,” he snapped, then returned his attention to Kaia. “Get the boys and go out back. Do what I brought you here to do.”
Thick red lashes lifted, a curtain rising over a screen of surprise. “You’re not coming with me?”
“No.” He gave her a little push. “Now go.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TO STRIDER’S CONSTERNATION, they never made it outside.
As his friends downed their drinks in a hurry—no drop left behind and all that—the front doors swung open and a black-haired beauty strutted into the bar. Lavender eyes searched the bar…and landed on Kaia. Red lips curled into a satisfied grin.
Strider stiffened. Shit. Wasn’t that just his luck. Sabin’s mission was now superfluous, which meant there’d be no hunting, no stealing tonight. The Eagleshields had landed.
&nb
sp; Kaia cursed under her breath. “Just my luck. Juliette the Nag You Until You Kill Yourself Eradicator is here.”
The woman’s consort wasn’t far behind. Strider hadn’t seen him at Tag, had just assumed the guy was off somewhere guarding the Paring Rod, and now he experienced a beat of surprise as the bastard stepped into the bar, expression smug and superior, as if he owned all he surveyed. There was no sign of the artifact. What did he have? Multiple, heavily armed Harpies flanking him. His guards?
During orientation, the hulking giant had sported chains. Now Strider noticed that he sported tattoos. Links had been etched into the flesh around his neck and wrists. Most likely, if he removed his boots, Strider would see ink around his ankles, too.
The tattoos looked red, swollen and fresh, and Strider would have bet his left nut they’d been added only this morning.
Why keep so dangerous a guy around, huh? Kaia had said Harpies could forgive their consorts for almost anything, but come on. The man had murdered other Harpies. Surely that was worse than, say, stealing a priceless artifact from an enemy.
Within seconds, Strider’s friends had lined up beside him, forming a wall of menace. They had no idea what was going on—except, maybe, for Amun—but they knew him well. Knew when he was gearing up to fight. Hell, they knew an enemy when they spotted one.
Win!
No combative words had yet been spoken, but even Defeat had sensed the threat. Consider it done. With pleasure.
The man—or whatever he was—caught sight of Kaia. Obsidian eyes swirled hypnotically. He was bare-chested, and his pectorals jumped. Because he was imagining Kaia’s hands on him? Strider tensed. Mine. And I don’t share. Ever.
“Let’s kidnap Juliette’s followers and threaten to release them if she doesn’t do what we want,” Kaia whispered to him.
“Wait. What? Threaten to release them?”
“They’re so horrible, getting them back would be the punishment.”
He fought a grin.
“Now, let’s zip this convo up and let momma work.” She cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders. “Well, well,” Kaia said, casual yet loud enough to be heard by one and all this time. “Is it my birthday already?”