The Kindred

by L. L. Foster

  Gaby clenched her jaw, despising indecision as much as she did vulnerability.

  Maybe she should just curl up on the porch. God knew she’d slept in worse places. Then she and Luther could sort things out in the—

  Her thoughts shattered as the front door opened and Luther filled the space. He stared right at her as if he’d known, as if . . . he’d been watching and waiting for her.

  Gaby’s sharply inhaled breath burned her lungs.

  The sudden furious pounding of her heart made her sway.

  Even from the street, with only the faintest yellow glow of a streetlamp that barely reached him, she could see that Luther wore nothing more than unsnapped jeans. He didn’t shiver in the cold breeze that ruffled his already untidy hair.

  It didn’t take a paladin’s acute vision or limitless intuition to read his dark mood. Relief, rage, and something so much softer, all churned the bright aura limning his powerful, seductive, and comforting presence.

  For an indeterminate amount of time they remained that way, separated by space but connected just the same, each unwilling to make the first move. The longer Gaby delayed, the more she hurt. Not the pain of a devout calling, but pain from sharp need, a need she’d seldom experienced before Luther had forced his way into her melancholic life.

  A need she had long ago denied existed.

  “Fuck it.” Gaby took one step, then another. Her heartbeat and the racing of her pulse sent a cacophonous echoing through her brain. Each step grew harder, faster—and she saw an infinitesimal relaxing of Luther’s broad shoulders.

  The closer she got to him, the more she convinced herself that she had more reason to be disgruntled than he did.

  Hadn’t he left her high and dry earlier that day, after getting her all hot and bothered? Sure he had to work. She understood that.

  But knowing he might have to leave, he’d still gotten her primed to experience new depths of sensuality—and then he’d walked away from her.

  Because of her anger, he’d left her with a promise, a carnal tease about intimate matters to be completed.

  And, by God, she would demand he fulfill that promise tonight.

  Carried forward by resentment, Gaby bypassed the walkway and stomped over the dew-wet lawn. A stiff, cool breeze moved through the heavy branches of the trees in his front yard, shaking loose raindrops to dampen her hair and skin.

  Gaby didn’t feel the chill.

  Focused only on Luther, her gaze locked on his, she marched up the porch steps and to the open doorway where he waited with crossed arms and copious macho attitude.

  Close enough that their breaths mingled, she stopped. He stood there in austere inflexibility, his brown-eyed gaze locking onto hers with such strong, conflicted feeling that her knees went rubbery.

  Today, she had been forced to kill two beautiful animals.

  Today, she had seen misery in a young girl’s face and learned the intended fate of an innocent child.

  All in all, it’d been a super-sucky day.

  Gaby didn’t want Luther to start chastising her. She didn’t want to argue with him. The past few hours had been so fraught with fears and disappointments that she wanted only the unique, opulent contentment he could give.

  He didn’t reach for her, but so fucking what?

  She was used to taking matters into her own hands. And this time, she would do so . . . literally.

  Luther felt every punching beat of his heart as forcefully as he felt Gaby’s resolve.

  But resolve to do what?

  His lungs labored for air, but a pressure on his chest kept the deep breath at bay.

  “I came home,” she told him with her chin in the air and a sour tone of accusation.

  His chest grew so tight that speaking proved impossible, so he only nodded.

  Then Gaby grabbed his crotch.

  That got his air moving in a strangling inhalation. His arms fell to his sides, his stomach knotted.

  She put her mouth to his throat. “No games, Luther. No lectures or long inquisition. I need you. I need everything you promised.” She bit him, but then soothed the sting of her sharp teeth with the damp stroke of her tongue. “In all my twenty-one years, you’re the only person who’s ever made me forget the ugliness.”

  Leaning back, she demanded from him with glittering blue eyes, her features already shifting in that anomalous and hotly appealing way of hers.

  “Help me forget, Luther. Right now.”

  A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind; with Gaby’s propensity for finding the goriest of evil, anything might have occurred. He needed to know details; he needed to talk with her.

  But that thought was obliterated by the anxious way her slender fingers cuddled his length through the denim of his jeans. When her breath hitched he was so lost that he didn’t know if he’d ever find his way back.

  Scooping one arm beneath her small derriere, Luther lifted her up and against him. Their mouths met, hungry, demanding, frenzied with pent-up need.

  He moved them both into the house and kicked the door shut, then shoved Gaby against it to kiss her harder, deeper. Her long legs wrapped around his waist and she sank her fingertips into his shoulders.

  Keeping his mouth on hers, he used one hand to shove her shirt up, to get to her small, firm breasts. She freed her mouth with a harsh groan.

  Arching into him, she said, “Let’s get naked.”

  Oh God, the things she did to him.

  Luther fought for control. He wanted to make love to her gently, to show her how much she mattered to him, to show her all the pleasure to be had between them.

  But she bit his chin, his jaw. “Naked, Luther. Now. Don’t make me fight with you.”

  A reluctant smile worked through the lust. Yeah, Gaby would probably wrestle him to the ground if she didn’t get her way. “No problem.”

  He loosened her left leg from around his hip and helped her to stand. Before she’d even gotten both feet on the ground, he pulled her shirt up to expose her naked breasts while she unfastened that damned sheath and let her knife drop to the floor with a clatter.

  Using his foot, Luther kicked it to the side. Keeping his gaze glued to her now-taut nipples, he went to work on the snap at her waistband.

  But Gaby was just as busy undressing him, and before he could do more than shove her jeans down her hips, she had his cock in her hands. Staring down at him, she licked her lips and groaned.

  He lost whatever semblance of a rational, reasonable man he’d ever possessed. It had been too long, and there’d been far too much between them for him to hold back any longer.

  Again locking her against the door, Luther put a foot to the bunched material of her jeans and stepped down, shoving them to her ankles. He used his knee to open her thighs as far apart as possible. It wasn’t much, given that she was practically hobbled, but he’d make do.

  Gaby grabbed his ass and pulled him closer, saying in a low, thrumming growl, over and over again, “Yes.”

  Raging need had such a stranglehold on Luther, he couldn’t see straight. Blind lust drove him as he cupped one hand under her bottom to lift her enough to align their bodies. With his other hand he guided himself to her, and found her hot, slippery wet, so damn ready.

  “I’m sorry, babe.” Grasping her hips with both hands, he drove forward with a hard thrust that buried him completely and lifted her toes from the floor.

  Going stiff, Gaby sucked in a sharp, startled breath that froze Luther—until she let the breath out in shuddering, purring pleasure. Against the restriction of her jeans, she brought her knees up to clasp around his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Sinuous and sexy, she squirmed, trying to get more of him.

  Her heavy-lidded gaze met his. Her eyes were smoky, intense, the shape more defined with her arousal.

  Slowly, she stared down at his mouth and demanded, “Again.”

  Luther gave up. He took her mouth even as he pulled out, only to hammer back into her ag
ain. Like a cat, she curled closer, hugging herself all around him.

  Knowing he battered her but accepting that she loved it, that she was every bit as turned-on as he was, he found a hard, thrusting rhythm that soon had them both on the brink.

  How could he have thought, even for a second, that Gaby would be any other way?

  She went through life full-force, without constraint or modesty. She didn’t know half measures, had no grasp of social propriety.

  For most of her life she’d been without friends, without understanding, without a single caring touch.

  Luther vowed to show her the individual satisfaction of tenderness, and lovemaking.

  Later.

  For now, Gaby demanded a hard fuck, and that worked just fine for him.

  “Hold on to me,” he told her through clenched teeth. He wanted to touch her breasts, and more. He wanted to learn every inch of her.

  “Yeah, okay,” she agreed around panting breaths. She pressed her head back against the door and pushed her hips forward, matching his rhythm the best she could in their awkward positioning.

  When Luther felt the near-painful grip that secured her hold on him, he took one hand from her backside and, using only his fingertips, teased over her stiffened nipples.

  Her lips parted on a fractured moan.

  Luther saw her through a haze of carnality and . . . much, much more. “You are so incredibly sexy, Gabrielle Cody.”

  Maybe because, even now, she couldn’t accept a compliment, Gaby kissed him hard again, making it impossible for him to talk to her.

  Luther didn’t mind.

  He had the snug clasp of her body on his cock, her mouth sucking at his tongue, and her hands holding him like she’d never let him go. No other man had touched her like this.

  No other man ever would.

  And that thought pushed him so close to the edge that he was grateful when he felt Gaby’s climax erupting.

  Tangling her fingers in his hair, arching her back, she moaned low and long. He bent his head and caught a nipple in his teeth—and she came.

  Her reaction was so strong, she damn near toppled them both. Luther flattened one hand on the door behind her head and braced his legs apart to support them both. While his own release boiled up he watched her face, saw all the small nuances as her features shifted, sharpened, and finally softened again.

  There was no other woman like Gaby.

  And there’d be no other woman for him.

  Secure in Luther’s embrace, Gaby rested her head on his sweaty shoulder and tried to assimilate everything that had just occurred. He was still a part of her, still inside her, but not so much now.

  She felt the trembling in Luther’s arms, his legs, but she didn’t care.

  He wouldn’t falter. Not Luther.

  Not ever.

  A tsunami of overwhelming euphoria had swept away all remnants of her arrant anxiety. The monstrous depravity of the world remained, but now, somehow, it didn’t cut so deeply into her peace of mind.

  Opening her eyes just enough to see Luther’s jaw, Gaby whispered in extreme understatement, “Not bad, cop.”

  He turned his head a little and pressed the most tender of kisses to her temple.

  Just that, nothing more, but it nearly flattened Gaby.

  Because she rested on him like a needy woman. Because she liked it so much.

  Because she . . . loved it.

  Her heart ached with tremendous trepidation. She wanted Luther to always kiss her like that, with so much unspoken meaning. Never before had she loved anything or anyone.

  But that kiss . . .

  It amped the euphoria right back up there. Not physically, but emotionally. Phenomenal bliss filled her near to bursting.

  So unlike her and her normal state of mind.

  It occurred to Gaby that she no longer knew herself. She wasn’t a woman who partook of physical pleasure with abandon.

  She wasn’t a woman who allowed others to soothe her.

  She didn’t even let others touch her.

  With her insight into the evil that existed all around her, and her never-ending duty to extirpate it, she wasn’t a happy woman. Ever.

  How could she be? Her understanding of societal monstrosities refuted any thoughts toward true happiness.

  And yet, right now, peacefulness permeated her being.

  Oh God, it was a scary thing to feel this level of happiness.

  Fear got its ugly fangs in her. If she changed for Luther, who would she be? What would she be?

  “Shh,” he said ever so softly. “Don’t go there, baby. Not yet. I need a few minutes to recoup before we get started on all that.”

  All what? Eyes widening, heart pumping fast and hard, Gaby wondered if he’d somehow read her mind. Did he know her internal struggle, the demons that plagued her, that left her weak and ineffectual?

  Tense with apprehension, she asked, “What are you talking about?”

  He released an exaggerated, grievous sigh. “So there’s to be no respite, huh? You won’t even let me wallow in the languor a few minutes more?”

  Having had no idea what the hell he meant, his nonsense grated on Gaby. The rush of irritation helped her to regain herself.

  She went full force with familiar bitchiness. “Stop the bullshit, Luther.” She pushed at his shoulders. “And let me go.”

  If anything, he snuggled her closer, cuddling her butt and breathing in as if smelling her, her skin and her hair. “Why would I want to do that?”

  Lots of reasons presented themselves to Gaby’s beleaguered mind, but she said only, “I’m . . . wet.” She could feel a certain stickiness on her thighs that wasn’t altogether unpleasant as much as very unfamiliar.

  “Yeah.” As if that pleased Luther, his voice deepened. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder in a slow, open-mouthed kiss. “Wet with you,” he whispered, “and wet with me.”

  Why stickiness turned him on, Gaby didn’t know. “You’re being weird, Luther.”

  He sighed again. “I can’t believe I forgot to cover up.”

  “Cover up?”

  “I didn’t use a condom, Gaby.” He leaned away from her and gave her a look rife with affection and sincere apology. “I took risks with you, and I’m sorry.”

  She started to ask, “What risk?” when Luther’s gaze went to her arm. She followed his line of vision and saw that blood had seeped through the bandage and sleeve of her stolen sweatshirt.

  Shit.

  Tensing, he stepped back and obliterated their intimate connection. It was the oddest thing, as if losing him left a void in her heart as well as her body. Gaby wanted him back. All of him.

  But she’d be fucked before she admitted that to him.

  To her surprise, he didn’t say a word about her arm. Instead, he wrestled her shirt off over her head and looked at her upper body. She hadn’t realized that her tussle with the drug dealers had left behind a few bruises.

  Luther, damn him, managed to locate each and every one.

  Naked except for her jeans and panties around her ankles, Gaby crossed her arms beneath her breasts and leaned back on the door. No way would she let him discomfort her with his scrutiny.

  Jaw tight, Luther hitched up his jeans and raised the zipper. He didn’t bother with the snap before going to one knee and clasping her calf. “Lift your foot out.”

  Gaby huffed in confusion. “I can undress myself, you know.”

  He looked up at her. “We just had sex, Gaby. Afford me a few gentlemanly courtesies, please.”

  How dumb. “Fine. Whatever. For you.” Now she felt horribly inelegant. Not that there’d ever been a single elegant thing about her anyway. “But I don’t need that nonsense.”

  “I do.” Luther went about relieving her of the rest of her clothes.

  He even took his time folding her jeans and sweatshirt and hanging them over his arm. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  Maybe for more sex? Gaby had no argument against that. “Okay. But first
things first.” She locked the front door, even secured the deadbolt, and then retrieved her knife in the sheath. “You need better locks on your house.”

  He didn’t argue. “I’ll get a security system.”

  His quick compliance wrought a questioning glance, but he wore no real expression at all. “When?”

  “I’ll make some calls tomorrow.” He gestured up the stairs. “Now let’s go.”

  Confused by his complaisance, she started up the stairs. “I need a quick shower first.”

  Closer than she’d realized, his breath touched her nape when he said, “I was thinking more about a bath.”

  “A bath?” She stopped, and Luther bumped into her.

  His hands went to her waist. “I don’t yet know how badly your arm is hurt, but given how you shrug off near death, I’m assuming the necessity for a bandage means it’s significant.”

  “Not really.” To chase off the lethargy, Gaby took the rest of the stairs two at a time. At the top step, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Got grazed by a bullet, that’s all.”

  She went on down the hall and into the bathroom before she realized Luther hadn’t followed. Wondering what kept him, she started back out just as he came stomping in, and they nearly collided.

  Gripping her shoulders in an iron hold, Luther took deep breaths that flared his nostrils and brought a flush to his face.

  Rolling her eyes, Gaby pulled free of him and began unwrapping the bandage. “Get a grip, Luther, it’s not all that. And I’m a quick healer, if you remember. In a few days it’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t look appeased, but Gaby paid no mind to his fast-shifting mood. “In fact, I plan to get a tattoo around it to hide any scar that might be left behind. I was told that normally a person has to wait at least a year for that, but I’ll convince the tattoo artist otherwise, no problem there.”

  He smashed a finger to her mouth.

  Not a good thing to do to a person like her. Gaby no sooner had that thought than she was struck with the realization that there were no other people like her.

  She swatted Luther’s hand away with an overdose of irritation. “Don’t push it, cop.”