Sophie squelched her train of thought. Allowing it a foothold would get her nowhere but lost in a black hole of guilt. She came here to unwind, not think about her sick mother or dead brother, or Chay. Definitely not Chay.
“Whatcha drinking?” He pointed to the amber liquid in her squat glass.
She drained the tumbler, enjoyed the smooth burn at the back of her throat and the warmth racing to her stomach. It was the warmest she’d been since she’d tucked her mother into bed and slipped out of the house. “Whiskey. Not the Hibiki I wanted, but it will do.”
His brow rose. “Japanese brand.” He impressed her with his knowledge of the exclusive label, then he ruined it by adding, “What? American whiskey not good enough for you?” His self-deprecating chuckle eased the hackles that immediately rose.
“You know what…let’s get out of here before your mouth prevents your dick from getting laid tonight.”
A broad grin cracked his face. “Let’s get out of here, then.”
Sophie slid off the stool. She wasn’t drunk. One glass of whiskey had served to mellow her angst and blunt the sharp edge of pain. This random hookup was a clearheaded decision she would take at face value and search no deeper. She chose this bar because of the bright, airy atmosphere with its soaring ceilings and low chandeliers. Now, as she made her way to the exit, a dark corner caught her attention. Her steps faltered as she noted the area next to a lamp throwing off light that the shadows clinging to it shouldn’t exist.
“You change your mind?” he said close to her ear, his hand resting intimately on the small of her back.
“Um. No. Not at all.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into his side as they made their way to the exit. One dark corner wouldn’t derail her night of oblivion. “Get in.” She didn’t give him an option as she unlocked and slid into her rental car.
The engine rolled over by the time he closed the passenger door. “Your place or mine? I don’t live far.”
“Hotel room.” She hadn’t canceled her reservation at the Sheraton. Two rights got her to the highway.
“I thought you weren’t a local?” he said when she merged into traffic.
“I’m not…I mean. I was. I moved to Detroit a few years ago.”
“Yeah? What brought you back south? Vacation?”
How much to share? How deep to go with a one-night stand? You know, fuck it. I won’t see him again after tonight. “My brother is dead, and my mother is dying, so no, no vacation.”
There was a long stretch of silence, then he said, “Man, I’m really sorry.” Sincerity echoed in his voice.
She kept her eyes on the road.
“Hey. If you just want to go someplace and talk.”
“Talk? I’m not taking you to my hotel room to talk.” Ten minutes later, she parked. Nerves stretched tighter than piano wire, she climbed out of the car and studied the half-filled lot. Light beat back the night, illuminating the area so that no square inch of the lot remained dark. Yet she searched for that random patch of misplaced Ink as Ronnie followed her to the entrance, through the lobby, to the elevator, and her room. One swipe of the keycard and they entered.
Her stomach fluttered at the sight of the king-sized bed. Good or bad, she couldn’t tell and didn’t care. She shucked off her purse and wasted no more time thinking. She fisted his shirt and brought him to her. He tasted of beer and a breath mint. Not a bad mix. His lips were soft, nice, his touch gentle on her hips. He neither pulled her to him nor pushed her away. He accepted her taking the lead. She appreciated his restraint, as if he understood the edge her emotions balanced upon.
Restraint wasn’t what she needed. She needed the blinding, slate cleaning bliss only passion could bring. She needed an orgasm not brought on by her own fingers but by someone fucking the common sense right out of her. She needed her brain off and her pussy filled. No thinking about mistakes she couldn’t fix, a past she couldn’t alter, and the guilt that would never cease.
And she needed all of that now before the pain and guilt chewed what remained of her heart and split her soul.
However, she wouldn’t get it from him because there was no magic arching between them. No spark in her blood. No combustion in her soul. Not even a fucking tingle anywhere on her body.
She wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t. Sweet oblivion, that’s what she needed to erase the horror her life had evolved into.
“Hey.”
Sophie hadn’t noticed that his hands had moved from her hips to push at her shoulders. So lost in her head, she hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped kissing.
“This isn’t working for me and I know it’s not working for you. So, I’m gonna be a gentleman and leave.” He walked around her to the notepad and pen laying on the nightstand. He scribbled something and headed for the exit. “I like you. I would love spending a few hours with you, but I’m a firm believer in doing what’s right. You’re grieving. A few hours spent on meaningless sex with a stranger isn’t gonna help you in the morning.”
She had no response because he’d just laid her shit bare. She stumbled back until she collided with the bed, plopping her ass onto the mattress. Her eyes closed under their own steam as if they’d seen enough and couldn’t handle any more of the world and her BS.
“I lost my best friend last year. He was as close as any brother could be. Still, I can’t guess what you’re going through.”
She’d lost her brother, her best friend, the only family she’d ever know and probably the only man she’d ever love.
Sophie lifted her head and peered at him through the curtain of her hair. “You’re a good guy, Ronnie.”
He shrugged and gave her a sheepish, aww shucks, ma’am glance. “I have two sisters. If you’re up to it, give me a call tomorrow and I’ll take you to dinner.”
Though she knew she wouldn’t take him up on the offer, she nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do that.”
The door closed with a gentle thud behind Ronnie. An unknown scream crawled up the back of her throat. She grabbed one of the pillows and bit into it. That didn’t stop the scream, just prolonged it, made it go on forever.
Chapter Twenty
Few times in Chay’s immortal life had he experienced true fury. In those handful of events he remembered the distinct feeling of lava in the pit of his stomach. The result was cataclysmic, not for the world around him, but for himself. The first time was when he fell, following some misguided notion of loyalty over duty. The second time caused the deep rift between his UnHallowed—Kush, Riél, Gadreel, Bane, Gideon, Rimmon, and Ioath—and the rest of the UnHallowed. The last time—hours ago.
He drained Gadreel’s energy right of his body. The only reason he stopped was because of the shadows. On one level the thought disturbed him. On a secondary level, he was sorry he didn’t finish it. He would like to think he wouldn’t have ended Gadreel. He’d like to think he would’ve stopped on his own and left him in the shadows to recover.
Yeah, he’d like to think that. However, the truth was more complicated. He couldn’t stop. If it weren’t for the shadows, he would’ve ended Gadreel. The former Archangel of Weapons would’ve died with a whimper instead of dying in a blaze of glory as he’d always envisioned.
All of this strolled through his head as he watched Sophie walk out of the bar with a man. Nitrogen flowing under his skin. Cold fire burned its way through his gut. He stood there, shadows cloaking him inside the bar, then the parking lot as she drove away, and finally when she entered the hotel with the same walking excrement.
Every possessive craving he’d sworn he didn’t have surged to the forefront. Especially when she looked into the shadows, and though she didn’t realize it, locked eyes with him.
The pain in her soul reflected in the deepening blue of her irises and her inky pupils. They reached out to him as they always had. Always would. Silently, he begged her to come to him, take one step and he would sweep her away. One clue she wanted him to take away her pain and the human who risked his life b
y touching her.
Instead, she’d left.
I should leave. The single rational thought spurred the shadows to crawl up his body and pull him out of the Sheraton parking lot, even though he had no destination in mind.
That was a lie. Proven when the shadows spit him out on the fifth floor of the hotel after claiming a third of the hallway. Human thoughts streamed into his head. The thoughts of all on the fifth floor, no…the entire hotel cluttered his mind. Their needs, desires, lusts, and hates slammed into his brain and brought him to his knees. This power was new, then again when he fell, humans were a new species with a population of three.
The pain was too much to bear. He shut all the links down, blocking the voices competing with his own, until he was once again, alone. He pushed to his feet, weary as if he’d fought five rounds against Kush, Zed, and Riél, and hadn’t come out the victor. Suddenly, Sophie was there. He could see her three doors down, through the drywall, hear her sobs, see her tears. She was crying, slumped on the bed as the man she’d brought here exited her room.
Chay lunged for the human’s throat. He slammed the guy into the wall before his scream caught air. “What did you do to her?” he demanded in a voice pulled from the graveyard. Wide-eyed the human wheezed something incoherent.
“Your death is here. Answer the question and I will make it fast.” More wheezing. The sane part of Chay’s brain realized the human needed O2. Too bad. Chay ripped through the human’s mind. With ruthless precision, Chay plucked out the memory of the human’s encounter with Sophie and found…nothing.
Her barroom hookup wasn’t the cause of her tears. In fact, he’d treated her with kindness, with respect, deferring to her unspoken grief and not his desire to get laid. However, he’d touched her, kissed her, lusted after her. None were a killing offense by human standards, which didn’t alleviate Chay’s desire to rip the human apart.
A sliver of sense broke through Chay’s fury. For a human, the guy was decent. For that, he didn’t deserve to die. He eased up on the guy’s throat, allowing the man a few precious sips of air. He knitted the man’s brain back together and said, “Leave. Forget you ever met a woman named Sophie. Forget you even went to a bar tonight. Nod.”
Dick for the night’s head bobbled like one of those plastic toys on a dashboard.
Chay released the guy and spared a moment to watch him stumble to the elevator. A sob reached him. He moved to her door, readied to ghost through the cheap wood and… What? Have her flay the skin from his ass for continuing to stalk her.
Explaining it was for her own good would be hollow, even to his own ears. Fuck! Chay’s hands curled into fists. Sophie had enough on her plate without knowing the Reaper warned of her coming death. A death that would not occur.
He could see her lying in a ball at the foot of the king-sized bed. Going inside would break what little trust she had left in him, but he couldn’t stand outside her door seeing her in pain and listening to her suffer. So, he did the only thing he could.
He knocked.
Startled, he saw her jerk as if struck. “Um. One second.” She scrubbed her face in the comforter, then rushed to the bathroom. He tracked her movements. A quick splash of water on her face washed her tears away and brought a bit of color to her pale cheeks. “Coming.” She rushed to the door and didn’t ask who it was before she opened it.
Chay braced for her wrath, prepared to take everything she dished out without a word of protest. Her lips parted on a gasp and she stepped back, in fear? To flee? His chest tightened in hopeless agony, yet he stood his ground. He had a lot of things to say, repeat really.
Emotions danced across her face. First surprise, a flash of anger, which settled into deep sadness. Even in grief, she was lovely, from her pert nose, cupid’s bow lips, the slight upsweep of her round, cornflower blue eyes, to the dimples denting her cheeks.
Say something, he ordered his stalled brain. “I like your hair.” It wasn’t a lie. He always preferred her natural color.
Was that a smile? He couldn’t be sure because she lowered her chin and her hair shielded her from a closer inspection. Damn it. He’d fucked things up again. “I do. You could be bald and I’d still love it because I…” The sudden lump at the back of his throat stopped him from spilling his guts all over her. She had more than enough on her plate and didn’t need him adding to it. “Sophie—”
His apology was lost in the feel of her hand fisting his shirt, while the other stroked from his chest to his throat, then wrapped around his neck. She brought him to her with a raw desperate melding of their lips that set his grace on fire. Her lips were soft, so damn soft. He moaned, and her tongue slid into his mouth. She was sweet, pure sugar on his tongue. Holy hell! How had he resisted her for two whole years?
He knew it would be like this with her, explosive, but…the person in his arms wasn’t Sophie. This was her grief taking ownership of her, not her passion for him driving her to take what she wanted.
This was wrong. He knew it was wrong, even as his cock banged against his zipper. He had to stop her. Had to find the will to stop her. He broke their kiss and cupped her cheeks to keep her from latching back on. He had a whole list of rational things to say, the same things he’d planned on saying when she opened the door, if only he could remember what they were.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and damn it, he wasn’t prepared for the unshed tears glistening. Kryptonite. He had no defense against her tears. What little will he had folded like a cheap tent in a tornado.
Voice low, sultry, she begged, “Please, Chay. I need you.” Sophie rubbed her curves against his cock as her voice, and desire dragged him into a snare he didn’t want to escape.
His will in tatters, Chay snapped. He gathered her hard, his hands on her ass, and brought her in tight. She wrapped her arms around him and climbed up his body. He helped her as he plundered her mouth with ruthless thrusts of his tongue, letting her know exactly where this was headed—her laid bare, screaming his name with him buried inside her. He cleared the threshold of the room and kicked the door closed behind hm.
His stride ate up the distance between the door and the bed until he dropped his ass at the foot with Sophie straddling him. Her skirt hiked up, exposing a mile of skin. He couldn’t see her legs and all that skin, so his hands painted a vivid picture as he trailed down to her ankles and back up to the curve of her ass. Sophie fit herself to him with a slow grind, her core over his trapped cock.
If he had any intention of putting the brakes on this runaway freight train, it went the way of ice on hot asphalt as she dry humped the shit outta him.
She kissed him, hard and fast, twisting her tongue along his and sucking. One hand slipped under his shirt, on his skin. His head dropped back, and he groaned at the sharp stab of ecstasy as her hand raced over his skin, touching…touching…
Her nails scraped his nipples. Ah, hell. Chay lost his power to think. Her fingers threaded his hair to yank his head further back and allow her to lick up his neck. She nipped his jaw and soothed the sting with a barely there kiss, then claimed his mouth in another torrid assault. Her tongue snaked into his mouth in a sensual, primal dance. Claimed him as if she’d always known he was hers. Damn, if that weren’t the truth.
He gripped her hips, pulled her in tight, pelvis to pelvis. She sucked on his tongue and moaned. “I want you. Now, Chay. Right now.”
In one move, he flipped her under him and took over the kissing, the tonguing, the touching. One hand cupped her head, turning her the way he wanted, deepening the kiss. The other hand stroked from her calf to her thigh, caressed the area where thigh meets ass before he fingered the lacy trim of her panties.
Sophie gasped, stilled, and parted her thighs. She hissed something that got lost in the lust roaring through his brain. Her hips rocked, encouraging his fingers to make their way to the front of her body.
She worked his shirt up to his pecs and worked her fingers over the ridges of his abs and chest. Her warm, rough palms r
an back and forth over his nipples. He growled his approval into her mouth as she tweaked both, his cock jerking with each twist.
Chay swept the back of his hand against her core, felt the damp heat, saw her eyes widen, her irises dilate, and her lips part on a long pant. He yanked the wet strip of satin keeping him at bay, slipped a finger under the edge, and touched bare skin.
Oh, fuck! She was cleanly shaven. He pulled out of her embrace and slid down the length of her body. The skirt went up around her waist. The panties didn’t survive. He ripped the offending material away.
And paused to drink in the stunning sight. She was wet and pink and oh so damn pretty. No, perfect. This was an altar he would gladly pray at, upon, inside, three sixty-five, twenty-four seven.
Propped on her elbows, she watched him watching her. Their gazes locked, and he settled between her legs. She was smooth and slick from her wetness, and breathtakingly beautiful. He wanted in. Wanted her legs spread. Wanted his cock buried.
And he would, after he had a taste.
He went in, his tongue collecting all her sweetness on a long, slow lick. Her back bowed and one of her hands fisted his hair, keeping him in place—as if he had anywhere else to be. Her taste on his tongue was bliss, a narcotic sent from heaven for him alone. Starved for more, he palmed her firm ass and feasted on her tender flesh. She writhed, moaned, cried out as he brought her to a swift release. He needed another one to quench his thirst, just one more then he’d let his dick join the party.
Chay clamped his hands on the inside of her soft thighs and spread her wider. He sucked and licked, plunged his tongue into her hot core with all the pent-up aggression that’d stewed since she walked into Lusted. He looked up at her, watched her cup her breasts through her blouse and knead the twin mounds. He reached up and knocked one of her hands away. Her breasts and her pussy belonged to him to play with.
Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4) Page 14